Frontier Gift of Love (American Wilderness Series Romance Book 5) (6 page)

“Then we’ll just have to ask Sam to do it,” William suggested, laughing.

Bear chuckled. “For yer sake, I will na tell him ye said that. By the way, yer new deputy seems impressive.”

“Thank God he came to me looking for a position. I was beginning to run myself ragged trying to keep up with all my duties here in town and at home. Kelly keeps both her father and me busy. There’s nary a spare moment for amusement anymore.”

“Nonetheless, ye would na trade yer life with Kelly at Whispering Hills for anythin’ would ye?”

“Nope. I’ve never been so content.”

“I feel the same.” Bear stood to leave. “Do na forget to introduce Wallace to Lucky McGintey. He might need the old man’s sage advice. No one knows Boonesborough as well as Lucky.” Both Bear and William considered the aging hunter and long-time companion of Daniel Boone to be a good friend. More than once, Lucky’s luck had rubbed off on them.

“That’s an excellent suggestion,” William said.

“Before I leave for home, I’ll find Lucky and ask him to keep an eye on both our places and feed the stock for us while we’re gone. I do na think he’ll mind.”

“We can show our appreciation with a nice bottle of brandy when we get back,” William suggested.

“Aye, the old boy would like that.”

“Bear, promise me you’ll stay safe on your journey.” From his sun-toughened face, William leveled concerned eyes on Bear.

“Aye. That I will do. Ye do the same.”

Chapter 4

Wyllie Cattle Farm, Kentucky, Friday, 16 December, 1799

S
tephen Wyllie’ s chest swelled with pride as he surveyed his herd of cattle. When they left New Hampshire more than two years ago, he brought an outstanding young bull and his two best heifers with him. The bull had bred both twice since then, and between them, the cows delivered a bull and three heifers. Now, as they huddled near him, their middles appeared swollen with a calf once again. He had also bought several dozen more cows at a good price from a man who decided to leave Kentucky in a hurry and move to the Ohio territory. Although not as good as the stock that Stephen brought to Kentucky, the new cows all dropped nice calves as well.

Why anyone would want to move further north eluded him. It was cold enough in Kentucky. He buttoned his coat and tied his woolen scarf more snugly around his neck. But the weather here was far better than New Hampshire, where each winter many of his cows froze to death or nearly starved.

He would have to acquire more heifers soon to grow his herd as quickly as he wanted to. Moments ago, Colonel Logan, accompanied by four men from the fort, purchased ten young bulls from him—intending to use the best one for breeding and the other nine to supply winter beef for Fort Logan.

“I have to get back to the fort,” Logan told him. “These men will bring the bulls back.”

“Thank you, Colonel Logan,” Stephen said, looking up at the man, grateful for his first significant sale of cattle.

As Logan rode away, the four men said their goodbyes and then herded the bulls toward the trail to the fort. Stephen wished the bulls had been born heifers, because then he could have kept them. But a herd this size only needed one good bull. And Boone, named in honor of Kentucky’s most valiant man, already proved his worth by keeping all of Stephen’s cows bred.

Growing tired of waiting on Stephen to feed them, the highest ranking cows—the two he’d brought from his meager farm in New Hampshire—started mooing and bellowing loudly. They had long since become like pets and he reached out and scratched the wiry hair on their foreheads. “Hungry ladies? I know, it’s not easy finding grass under this snow.”

After he fed grain to all his stock and farm animals, and oats to his prize horse George, the offspring of Stephen’s last stallion of the same name and Jane’s mare, he headed toward the house. The snow crunched beneath Stephen’s worn boots until he stopped at the wood pile to the right of the porch and loaded his arms with firewood. After he entered the large cabin he tugged off the muddy wet boots, leaving them by the door, and sat the logs down by the stone hearth. The brightly blazing fire, along with the kitchen hearth, provided the home’s only warmth and he made sure to keep both well supplied with good-sized logs. He didn’t want to risk either Jane or his daughters getting sick from a chill.

“Coffee, Stephen?” Jane called from the kitchen.

“Please, my hands could use some warming up,” he answered.

Stephen yanked off his coat and scarf and hung them near the door. He walked up behind Jane in the kitchen and tugged her against his chest. Her body would warm him far sooner than the coffee. “Did you miss me?” He pushed her long curly red hair aside, to give him access to her neck, and gently nibbled there before planting a kiss or two. Her skin felt almost hot
against his cold lips. And, as usual, the sweet taste of her stirred his blood.

“I did miss you, as always,” she said.

Whenever he came in from chores, even if he was working just yards away, Jane often said she missed him. Their souls were so connected, they were two halves of one whole. Whenever separated, it left each of them feeling an emptiness that nothing else could fill.

“My lips are cold,” he told her and turned her around to face him. He pressed his mouth against hers, enjoying her warmth and luscious taste.

“You’re making me more than miss you,” she purred when he finally released her lips. “Wait till I get you under the covers tonight.”

“How does it feel to be kissed by a cattle baron?”

“Did you sell some?” she asked excitedly. Her green eyes sparkled with excitement.

“Indeed. Not only did he buy the ten bulls at a nice profit for us, Colonel Logan wants me to supply the fort’s beef for the entire next year!”

“Truly! Oh Stephen, you’re doing what you always wanted to do.”

“It’s what
we
were destined to do together—build a better life for our children—why we made such a perilous journey and sacrificed so much getting here.”

Their eyes met, remembering, and Jane drew in a slow deep breath.

Stephen cleared his throat, not wanting to spoil the happy moment. “And, the Colonel said he’d speak to the commander at Fort Harrod and suggest that I supply their beef as well. With all the militia stationed at both forts, they’re unable to keep up with their need for fresh beef. I’ll be able to sell all the beef I can raise.”

A soft loving curve touched Jane’s lips. “That’s wonderful news!”

“I want to buy the girls a nice Christmas present,” Stephen whispered. “We can make a quick trip to the shops at Fort Logan or Harrodsburg if you prefer.”

“Fort Logan, it’s closer and this time of year the weather might turn bad.” She handed him the coffee sweetened with an enormous smile on her pretty face. “Presents would make them both so happy, Stephen. It’s been a long time since they received any new toys. I was worried Father Christmas wasn’t coming this year.”

“Of course he is! But after we buy the gifts and necessities, I’m going to reinvest the rest of the funds into buying more cows. I’ll need to increase my herd size to be able to keep up with the needs of both forts.”

“I agree.”

“And I decided I am going to enter George in that Twelfth Day race in Harrodsburg in January. The purse is substantial and it could mean buying all the cows we’ll need.”

“Stephen, are you sure George is ready? He’s so young and still a little green. There will be stiff competition coming from all over Kentucky. Probably some attending from Virginia horse farms as well.”

“I’ve trained him every day since he was old enough to ride and he’s come along quite well. He’s a magnificent stallion. Maybe even better than his father was, and you know how much I loved him. He’s as graceful as a dancer and as powerful as an English war horse. And he has a big heart, Jane. He’ll do anything I ask of him.”

“Unlike me?” Amusement flickered in her eyes.

“Well, now that you mention it…”

She swatted him with a towel and he ducked. She enjoyed their gentle sparring as much as he did.

“Father, is it Christmas yet?” Polly asked, suddenly appearing in the kitchen with her big sister Martha right behind her.

“No, Polly, Christmas isn’t for a while yet,” he answered patiently.

“Why do you keep asking the same question?” Martha scolded.

“Because I love Christmas.”

Martha sighed heavily. “I love Christmas too. But loving it won’t make
it come any faster,” she declared.

Martha, their ten-year-old daughter, tended to think much like her mother. She looked like her too. Her wild curls refused taming and her green eyes could blaze with the same temper Jane displayed—often quick to anger and just as quick to cool.

Polly, his seven-year-old, looked like him—her dark hair flowed from a center part and she had blue eyes. Also like him, she was slow to rile. Although when something finally made her mad, the whole world knew about it. And she wouldn’t forgive until she was good and ready.

But he couldn’t complain. Both girls were generally well behaved. Most important of all, they were healthy. That meant everything to him.

“Would you please read Bear’s letter to us again?” Polly asked her mother.

Although the girls could both read well, they preferred for Jane to read Bear’s letters aloud. With a good deal of Scots blood in her too, Jane could imitate Bear’s Scottish brogue perfectly.

“Are you through studying your lessons?” Jane asked the two.

“Yes,” they both answered at once.

“All of them? The Primer? Speller? Mathematics? Your history lesson?”

“Yes!” Martha answered. “The history lesson was the best part.”

“I liked the rhymes in the Primer,” Polly said.

“What’s the rhyme for the letter T?” Stephen quizzed.

“Time cuts down all, both great and small,” Polly answered right away.

Sad, but true, Stephen thought.

“Then I will read the letter. Let’s get you both a big cup of warm milk and then go sit at the table and I’ll read it,” Jane said. “Do you want a little sugar in your milk?”

Now that was a silly question. Had she ever known her daughters to
say no to sweetened milk? Come to think of it, it sounded pretty good to Stephen too. “I’ll have one too, please,” he told Jane, holding up his empty coffee cup.

“I’ll make one especially for you,” Jane said. She winked, smiled sensuously, and lightly fingered the tendrils of hair on his cheek before taking the mug from his hand.

Just that slight caress made the rest of his body ache, craving her touch.

Jane was obviously in a mood to celebrate. Stephen was too. He’d leave the real celebration for tonight. For now, he’d rest a while and enjoy the company of his family. But then he needed to get back to his fence building. He wanted to get the new fence built before the ground became too frozen to dig.

They all took their usual seats around the pine slab table. Jane brought the milk on a tray. After serving their daughters, she handed him his favorite mug and he took a sip and grinned at the taste of the milk flavored with sugar and rum.

Jane held her glass up and toasted. “To many more sales of fat cattle.”

“And to many more years of happiness with my family,” Stephen added.

“Amen,” Jane said. “Now where did I put that letter?” She went to the secretary against the wall and pulled down the cover. “Ah, here it is.”

After plucking the letter from its envelope, she began,
“Dearest Family, ‘Tis is my great pleasure to inform ye that my new bride, Artis, and I will be coming to visit for Christmas. We plan to leave with William’s family on December 21 and should arrive during the late evening of the 22
^nd
weather permitting. Of course, we will bring presents for all the children…”

Polly let out a squeal and clapped her hands even though she’d already heard the letter four or five times.

Jane smiled down at her and then continued,
“…and celebratory beverages for the adults. I can’t wait for ye to meet Artis—she’s the most
wonderful woman in the world. And the most beautiful
.

We will meet ye at Sam and Catherine’s place and celebrate the best Christmas ever
.

Until then, we send our love
,

Bear”

The letter made Stephen miss his huge brother. He was more like a blood brother than an adopted one and he thought of him just as he did his other brothers. Like Jane, he was anxious to meet Artis.

Stephen hoped their journey from Boonesborough to Sam’s would be a safe one. The wilderness was fraught with risks and danger. Ruthless men were most often the source of threats, but the frontier held other perils as well. He glanced over at the black wolf skin laying at the foot of his favorite chair. The wolf nearly took his life on their long journey to Kentucky. It was just one of the many hazards he, Jane, and the rest of their family faced as they sought the rich lands opening up in the new state of Kentucky.

Samuel’s cries brought Stephen’s attention back. “I’ll get him,” he volunteered and stood. He headed for their bedroom to retrieve his son.

“So, you’ve woken from your nap and you’re ready to take on the world are you?” He checked to be sure Samuel’s cloth was still clean. Thankfully, it was.

He gave the two-year-old a hug, enjoying the sweet scent Samuel always seemed to give off after a nap. Stephen carried his son into the front room.

Still waking up, Samuel yawned, clutching his favorite toy—a stuffed horse—in his chubby hands. Stephen sat down and kept his son in his lap, sitting him astride his leg.

“Samuel, want some milk?” Polly asked. She held her pewter goblet up to her brother’s lips and he sucked in a few sips, still working on how to drink from a cup.

Samuel pointed a finger at Stephen’s face. “Pa,” he told his sister.

Martha and Polly both giggled. “We know his name Samuel,” Martha said. “We call him Father, not Pa. It’s more dignified.”

Stephen and Jane both grinned. Their precocious daughter must have learned the word dignified in a recent lesson.

“Pa,” Samuel said again, looking up at Stephen.