He could not bring himself to say it. He didn’t need to.
“You enjoyed it.”
“I didna delight in her pain. I didna delight in takin’ her when I kent it wasna what she truly wanted. But, och, aye—I enjoyed her.”
He hadn’t been able to help it. She’d been wet and so very tight, the feel of her sweet quim driving him mad. When he’d come, the pleasure had shaken him apart.
“You are a man and in your prime, Connor.” Joseph cut off a small piece of salt pork and popped it into his mouth, talking while he chewed. “You could not help but enjoy being inside her. You blame yourself, but you did not force her into marriage. Do you think Katakwa would have been as careful of her as you were?”
The very thought of that whoreson with his hands upon her made bile rise in the back of Connor’s throat. “Nay.”
“Then know that you have done all you could for her as a warrior and a man and set it from your thoughts.”
If only he could.
“You didna see the pain on her face or find her blood on your thighs or stand outside the lodge while she washed herself and listen to the sound of her weeping.”
“No, but if I had, I would think more on the suffering I’d spared her and less on the pain I could not prevent.”
Connor gave a noncommittal “humph.”
“We have graver matters to consider.” Joseph took a handful of dried leaves from the small pile beside him, then crushed them in his fist, put them in a tin cup, and poured hot water on top of them. “I believe Katakwa’s men intend to ambush us after we are away from the village.”
“I thought they might. We’ll need to pick up their sign and find a way around them as soon as we’re clear of the village sentries.”
It would not be easy. Katakwa’s men had had all night to plan. They knew the landscape better than Connor and Joseph, for this was their home and hunting grounds. They would know
that Connor and Joseph suspected them, and they would work hard to conceal their movements.
Joseph poked at the ashes, testing the ash cakes. “If we can reach the lake to the northeast by sunset, we can escape them.”
But it was a long and tiring journey to the lake.
“This willna be easy on the lass.”
“Then you’d best prepare her. She is not free until we are safely away.” Joseph picked up the tin cup and handed it to Connor. “It is ready.”
Connor looked at the steeping leaves. “Are you certain you’ve done it right? I dinnae wish to make her ill.”
“Hot water on a fistful of dried and crumbled dogbane leaves.” Joseph put several slices of fried salt pork on a plate together with four hot ash cakes. “That’s what Rebecca always tells the women of our village to do—a cup of dogbane tea each time they join with a man.”
Rebecca was Joseph’s sister and a skilled midwife. She’d helped Iain’s wife, Annie, through the births of both of her bairns, and she’d aided Amalie with the birth of the twins. Morgan credited her with saving Amalie’s life and those of their sons.
“Should Lady Sarah eat the leaves?”
“No, she should just drink the tea.” Joseph handed him the plate and began to prepare another. “Now go before your breakfast gets cold. I’ve my own woman to see to this morning.”
Connor knew Joseph was speaking of Turtle Eggs, the woman who’d warned them of the extra sentries yesterday. “Do you believe we can trust her?”
Joseph grinned. “When a woman opens herself to a man as she did to me last night, he can see into her heart. Aye, we can trust her.”
Not sure if he had faith in Joseph’s method for gauging trustworthiness, Connor frowned. “Are you certain ’twas you plyin’ her for secrets last night and not the other way around? What have you been tellin’ her?”
Joseph’s grin widened. “I know how and when to use my tongue when I’m with a woman—and when to hold it.”
Connor glared at him. “When do you ever hold your tongue?”
Joseph got to his feet, the second tin plate in hand. “See that Sarah drinks every drop of that tea. And then, brother, we must talk.”
* * *
S
arah had just finished combing her hair when Connor called to her from outside the door. “May I come in, my lady?”
Not sure what she should be doing, she sat on the bed platform and folded her hands in her lap. “Yes.”
He nudged the door aside with his shoulder and entered holding a tin cup in one hand and a battered tin plate in the other, the scents of salt pork entering with him. He handed her the cup. “Drink this. Have a care. ’Tis hot.”
Sarah held the cup carefully by its handle and looked inside to see leaves floating in green water. She sniffed it, wrinkled her nose at the odd smell.
“It’s a tea the lasses of Joseph’s village take when they dinnae wish to conceive.”
Sarah felt the blood drain from her head, leaving her almost dizzy. She stared at the cup, then up at Connor. “Conceive?”
Connor set the plate of food down and came closer, a concerned frown on his face. “You ken that a man’s seed spilled inside a woman is what gets her wi’ child, aye? We cannae keep what happened here secret if your belly begins to swell.”
Sarah hadn’t thought about that frightening possibility.
“I know that, Major. I…forgot.” There’d been so much else on her mind. “I did not know it was possible to prevent conception.”
Surely, such a thing was against the will of God. Then again, the Almighty did not mean for women to be ravished or forced to wed against their will.
“What is in it?”
“Dogbane. It willna hurt you. Drink.”
While he watched, she brought the cup to her lips and drank, swallowing the bitter liquid in sips so as not to burn her tongue. When she had finished, he took the cup from her, and sat before the fire, reaching for the plate.
“Come and eat.” He motioned to the floor beside him. “You must be hungry. You barely ate a bite last night.”
She
was
hungry. She sat beside him and looked about for a fork or knife, but saw no utensils of any kind.
“We eat wi’ our hands, lass. They’ll wash up fine afterward.”
She followed his example, reaching first for an ash-covered cake made of ground corn, the grainy bread still warm.
She tried to brush the ashes away with her hand, but when Connor ignored the ashes and ate his cake whole, she gave up and took a bite. Only then did she realize how hungry she was. She hadn’t had a proper meal since breakfast the day she was taken captive, and she found herself eating as quickly as she could.
“Easy, lass. If you eat too fast you’ll make yourself sick. Besides, there’s more where that came from if you’re still hungry when this is gone.”
Ashamed at her lapse in manners, Sarah sat up straighter, wiped the crumbs from her lips with greasy fingers, and chewed more slowly.
“Now I’ve gone and made you feel bad.” He chuckled. “You’re hungry. Eat. I’m no’ tryin’ to find fault wi’ your manners. I just want your breakfast to stay in your belly.”
Sarah ate more slowly, a heavy silence filling the lodge. How did one behave after sharing a night like last night? She didn’t know. She knew only that she was mindful of Connor in a way she’d never been mindful of anyone—every movement he made, the timbre of his voice, the now familiar scent of his skin.
After the food was gone, Connor asked her whether she wanted more to eat. When she told him she was satisfied, he offered her fresh, cold water from his water skin, the moment strangely intimate as he held it to her lips, pouring it into her mouth while she tilted her head back and drank.
He wiped droplets of water off her chin with his thumb, his touch sending frissons of awareness through her, her body responding unexpectedly to his familiar warmth.
Startled by her own reaction, she drew back, her gaze colliding with his.
He studied her for a moment, the emotion in the deep blue of his eyes unreadable. Then he got to his feet and sat on a bed platform on the other side of the lodge, a muscle working in his jaw. “We must talk, my lady. I’ve much to tell you ere we leave the village.”
Sarah listened, disbelief warring with rage as he explained how Katakwa’s men would likely seek to ambush them once they’d left the village. “But we’ve done all their chief demanded. Surely she—”
Connor held up his hand to quiet her. “Granny Clear Water will take no part in any attack. She cannot. She has shared food with us, smoked the pipe with us, eaten a wedding feast with us.
But Katakwa’s warriors are free men and can do as they choose. They will seek to avenge their war chief.”
It made no sense to Sarah. After all they had both suffered, why couldn’t they be allowed to leave in peace? “You won that fight. You spared his life when you could have taken it.”
“The fight was between me and Katakwa. His men made no vows. Make no mistake, my lady. The moment we pass beyond hearing of the village, we shall be in grave danger. I must ask you to obey me wi’out question. Joseph and I will do all we can to protect you, but we need you to be strong, aye?”
Sarah felt her chin come up. Did he think her weak? “I may be a woman and neither as strong nor courageous as you, Major, but after last night, I should hope you know that I will endure whatever I must to reach home again.”
Emotion in his eyes grew sharp—and was gone. He rose, his face impassive. “Then let us prepare for the journey.”
C
onnor checked the lacings on his leggings and moccasins to make certain they were tight and strong. Out here a broken lacing could cost a man his life. He glanced over to where Lady Sarah knelt packing strips of jerked venison into a leather pouch, then he turned to Joseph and spoke in Mahican. “I want you to stay close to the lady. It distresses her to be near me.”
He thought back to this morning when he’d wiped drops of water off her chin with his thumb. She’d jerked back from him as if he’d burned her. And then, when he’d told her what they would face on their journey home…
After last night, I should hope you know that I will endure whatever I must to reach home again.
He didn’t blame her for her feelings. Aye, he had spared her the suffering Katakwa would have inflicted upon her, and he’d been as gentle as any man could have been, but in the end it was he who’d done the deed. She’d said she did not hate him, but that did not mean she felt at ease around him.
Joseph looked up from his musket, which he had just finished cleaning. “She knows you better. She trusts you. But if that is what you want—”
“It is.” Connor grabbed a few less important things from his pack—a spare hunting knife, a bit of chocolate, a small pot of vermilion—and started toward the door.
“Where are you going?” Joseph called after him.
“To trade for a tunic for the lady. She’ll need something more than my shirt to keep her warm.”
They left just before midday. Grannie Clear Water tried to escort them to the south side of the village to the trail Katakwa had used when he’d arrived with Lady Sarah. But Connor and Joseph had no intention of being guided into a well-prepared ambush. Instead, they headed due east, Connor savoring the look of vexation in Grannie Clear Water’s eyes.
“Why do we leave by this path?” Lady Sarah asked, clearly sensing the confusion of the villagers around them.
Joseph, in keeping with Connor’s request, answered her. “A war party lies in wait for us not far to the south of here. By heading first to the east and then to the north toward Fort Edward instead of south toward Albany, we avoid the trap and give ourselves some time. Katakwa’s men will circle back and pick up our trail, but by then we hope to be far ahead of them.”
It wasn’t a flawless plan. Katakwa’s men knew the land far better than he and Joseph. They might guess their path, given that Fort Edward served as headquarters for the Rangers. Or they might catch up more quickly than Connor anticipated. Regardless, there were few alternatives.
If only you truly were chi bai, laddie.
He would give them all wings, and they would fly away, free as birds. But God had seen fit to give them legs, not wings, and leagues of cold, dark forest lay between them and safety.
They moved into the shadows of the trees, the sounds of the village gradually fading behind them, a few young boys running alongside them, laughing and shouting to one another, showing one another how brave they were by touching Connor, the man who had defeated their war chief. Then, rosy-cheeked and out of breath, the boys turned back.
Connor glanced over his shoulder at Lady Sarah, who’d fallen in behind him. “In the forest, we walk side by side to prevent one shot from killing two. Walk between me and Joseph that we might better protect you.”
And the forest closed in around them.
He felt his senses sharpen. His gaze searched the trees, watching for any movement—a branch that bobbed out of time with the breeze, a flash of color, the subtle shifting of dappled shadows that were not shadows but painted men. His ears
were alert for anything out of the ordinary—the warning cries of birds startled from their perches, the snap of a twig, the whisper of an incoming arrow, unnatural silence. Even his sense of smell grew more acute out here where odors often warned of danger—the stink of a lurking bear, the scent of food cooking on an enemy’s cook fire…
Or the lingering scent of wood smoke on a man’s skin and clothing.
It was the latter that gave away the first sentry they encountered. The lad had probably come straight into the forest after breaking his fast at his mother’s hearth. He had concealed himself in a thicket off to their left.
“Can you tell us the best path to take east?” Joseph called to him in Shawnee, clearly having caught his scent, too.
A young man slowly stood, his face painted in black and white to mimic the shadows, his eyes spitting fire at having been discovered so easily. “You don’t want to go east. You need to go south.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Connor saw Lady Sarah edge closer to him. “We willna let him harm you, lass.”
Joseph answered the sentry in Shawnee, motioning eastward with a jerk of his head. “We go east to the river, where we will make a canoe and then take the river south.”