LeClerc 03 - Wild Savage Heart (23 page)

“Well, actually, I’m …”

“Ain’t none of yore business, Ma,” Abel interrupted.

“Certainly it is!”

“Ain’t!”

“I’m not going back to my family!” Molly interrupted before the argument could get out of hand.

“Then just what will you be adoin’?” Mabel asked, her nose tuned for juicy gossip she could pass on to her new neighbors once they were settled.

“Ma, I’m awarnin’ ya, mine yore own business.”

“I’ll be traveling north with Mr. Hawk.”

“Yore goin’ into the wilderness with an Injun?” Abel asked before his wife had a chance. “Now, ma’am, I cain’t be lettin you do such a thing.”

“Yore right, Pa. She’ll live here with us ‘til we can find her a nice, upstanding man to marry.”

“You have got to be kidding,” Molly muttered but she was ignored by the two people who had suddenly invaded her life.

“It’ll be tight, but we can squeeze a bed in fer her in the corner near the fireplace. That way she can keep it going at night when it’s really cold. And she can help me with the young’uns when she ain’t doing the wash or cooking.”

“I can use her help fer plantin’ come spring,” Abel replied, nodding his head in agreement with everything his wife said. “Well, it’s settled then, we’ll move in here and she can stay until we find her a husband. Get the young’uns off their butts. Tell ‘em to start unloadin’ the wagon.”

“Wait a minute,” Molly said firmly as they moved toward the door. “Don’t hurry to unload that wagon. Nothing is settled.”

“Why, dear, I know yore upset with the passin’ of yore husband,” Mabel said kindly. “Don’t you worry about a thing, we’re here now and we’ll take good care of you.”

“Listen very carefully,” Molly replied, carefully enunciating each word as she fought a valiant battle with her temper. “This place is for sale. I do not now nor will I ever, intend to live here with you. I will not cook, wash and tend your children while you search for a husband for me. I do not need a husband!”

“Why course you do, deary.” Mabel moved toward Molly as if intending to take the younger woman into her embrace. “I know you are heartbroken by the death of your husband, but we’ll open our home to you for a while.”

Molly backed away from the woman. “If you aren’t interested in buying my cabin and land then I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

“Yore tellin’ us to git?” Abel asked with bewilderment. “Woman, you must be outta yore mind iffen you think yore goin’ to go off with an Injun!” Unseen by the three combatants, Hawk slipped silently inside the door. He stood with his arms folded across his powerful chest and listened. His expression became forbiddingly severe as he began to understand the argument, but he noticed with pride that Molly wasn’t giving an inch to the meddlesome couple.

“Mr. Harris, it is none of your business what I do or do not do.” Molly narrowed her eyes at the two. “Are you interested in buying or not.”

“Just how long has it been since your husband died?” Mabel asked bluntly.

“My husband was killed less than a month after we moved here, approximately five months ago.” Molly waited, knowing exactly what was coming next.

“You mean you been living alone since then?”

“I have not been alone.”

The implication was not lost on the two people. Mabel stuttered, Abel muttered and Molly waited. It was a short wait.

“You’ve lived here, in sin, with that Injun!”

“It’s indecent. I thought you were a grieving widow!”

“That Indian,” Molly stated firmly, “is a fullblooded Shawnee with more generosity in his little finger than both of you have in your whole bodies.

He is honest to a fault, caring about others and will go out of his way to help a friend. Without him I wouldn’t have this cabin or the food in it. He cared for me without asking for reward when my husband died. He not only knows the true meaning of friendship but practices it.

“Before too much longer he will be my husband.” She placed her hand on her stomach and knew a moment too great to resist. “He will be the father of my child.” She patted her tummy so that they couldn’t mistake her meaning.

“Wicked!” Mabel said, scandalized to the bottoms of her feet, but making a mental note of everything that had been said. This was too good to take a chance on forgetting any of it. Surely her new neighbors would be appalled when they heard the truth. And she firmly intended to make sure they heard the truth.

Molly finally looked up and saw Hawk at.the door. Never before had his look been quite as intimidating, but she could have sworn that she saw humor dancing in his black eyes.

“I am sorry that I can no longer help you. I find that I must lie down and rest. A woman in my condition tires easily. Now, if you’re still interested in buying my place, you will have to discuss it with Mr. Hawk.” She nodded in his direction and noticed Mabel’s face whiten. “He is not my hired hand. He is, however, my solicitor and has full power to make any arrangements necessary to transfer the title into your hands.”

Molly turned her back on the couple and listened to their mutterings as they made their way out of the cabin. She sat on the edge of the bed and rested her head against the wall. True to her words, she did feel exhausted but she knew that her pregnancy had nothing to do with it. She wondered how anyone could be so unfairly prejudiced against someone simply because of his race.

She closed her eyes and gave in to the fatigue. She could hear Hawk’s deep voice through the open door but made no attempt to understand his words. She knew he was well able to handle the situation. She unknowingly slid into a light sleep as the sound of his voice eased her tension.

“Molly.” Hawk gently stroked the soft skin of her neck and studied the smooth lines of her face. He had felt an anger greater than any he’d ever known, when he’d listened to the Harris’s degradation of her. He knew now exactly how savage he could become. Whenever Molly was threatened in any way, he all too easily reverted to the brutality of his ancestors.

“Are they gone?” Molly open her eyes to gaze sleepily into his.

“No, they’re going to spend the night camped in the pasture.”

“Small-minded, stupid dimwits,” she murmured as she stood and stretched.

Hawk bit back a grin. “They aren’t too pleased with us spending another night here but I told them you needed a good night’s sleep and we’d be leaving at first light.”

“Oughta go take a bath in the stream just to watch the shocked look on their faces!” She unhooked a sack of com meal and slammed it onto the table.

“Wanted me to be their maid while they sat back and did nothing.” Unsatisfied by the thump of the bag, she grabbed a bowl and slammed it down.

Hawk waited to see if the clay bowl broke from her rough handling. A smile lingered in his eyes as he watched her work out her anger.

“She can sleep by the fire,” Molly mimicked as she looked for something else to slam around. “This place is sadly lacking in drawers!”

“Drawers? Why do you need a drawer?”

“So that I can slam it! When I get mad I like to slam drawers or doors or anything that makes a good, loud bang!”

“I’ll remember that.” Hawk let the smile slide from his eyes to his mouth. “If you start slamming things around I’ll know that you’re mad.”

“I’d appreciate something to slam!”

“I’ll make sure there are several doors, drawers and window shutters available.”

“They’re idiots,” Molly stated, changing the subject.

Hawk lost all signs of humor. “You’ll face many people like that if you become my wife, sweet Molly. They profess to be good Christians but most don’t practice what they preach.” He folded his arms across his chest, his face stern and intimidating. “They will make your life hell because you have an Indian husband and half-breed children.”

Molly placed her hands on her hips and matched him expression for expression. “If they don’t like it then they can go suck skunkweed!”

-

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The breeze was a softly whispered melody drifting through the trees. It offered a sweet invitation to linger awhile, to decipher the mysteries of nature readily revealed in its song to anyone willing to listen. Leaves, some still green, others showing red, orange or vibrant yellow, quivered with a mellow crinkling rustle.

On a hill beneath the trees, within sight and sound of the gently rippling stream, the lovingly carved wooden cross showed signs of weathering. Someday, after time and the elements had been at work, it would no longer be there to mark the solitary grave.

Molly knelt and spoke quietly to the gentle memory of the man who had brought her to this place. With only a small amount of guilt she accepted the knowledge that, without her staying to tend the grave, time would soon eliminate all traces of the man buried there.

She rested her hand against her growing stomach.

She would never forget the man with the laughing blue eyes and gentle smile. She would have the most precious gift he could have left her, his child. Behind her, the noise of the Harris family as they took possession of their new home, vividly reminded her that she no longer belonged here.

She belonged with Hawk. To Hawk.

Whispering a final farewell, Molly stood and turned to face her future. Hawk’s black gaze burned with understanding as he offered his hand.

He would be gentle, she thought, but only when it suited him. His laugh, indeed his smile, would be so rare that each would be a gift to treasure. He would expect absolute trust. He would demand unwavering loyalty.

He could give arrogance a new meaning, she decided as she watched his eyes narrow. She thought of his ability to intimidate with a look, his boldness, his self-assurance that bordered on insolence.

She remembered his compassionate gentleness when she had been so lost and bewildered that she didn’t know which way to turn, the days when he had forced her to work through her grief, the nights when he’d held her to keep away the nightmares.

He would not be an easy man to live with — or to love. But he would never desert her or abuse her trust. He would protect her and provide a safety she had never felt before in her life. And he would love her child as his own.

And she loved him. She hadn’t intended it to happen. In fact, had she been asked, she would have said she could never love a man like him. But that was before he had allowed her to see the man he really was.

She knew there were many things about him she still didn’t know, but she trusted him above all else. Time would show her anything else that might be important for her to know, but it could never change the trust he had gained by his actions.

Chin up, shoulders squared, Molly met him more than halfway. The decision was made. Her life was now intertwined with his. She reached out until her hand rested in his.

“Be very sure,
nee ee kwai wah,”
he said firmly. “There will be no turning back.”

“I am sure, Hawk.” Molly’s confident voice confirmed her decision. She walked to her horse and waited for him to help her to mount. “When can I start learning Shawnee?” she asked with a small grin. “I want to know what you’re calling me.”

“Nee ee kwai wah,
my woman.” With the ease of a strong man, Hawk lifted her onto the saddle. He had insisted that she ride astride and that she wear trousers, decisions that Molly accepted without argument.

Adam’s trousers, altered for her shorter legs, fit snugly around her waist. They felt strange but she already enjoyed the freedom they allowed. She wondered if they would fit at all by the time they finished their journey. Every day the baby seemed to make his presence better known by adding inches to her middle.

Hawk mounted his horse and turned toward the north. Even though he had insisted on keeping their supplies to the minimun, the reins to a packhorse were tied to his saddle. This early in the journey the trail was v/ide enough for a wagon, making it possible for Molly to ride by his side. Later on they’d have to go single file, at times walking the horses through narrow passes.

“So,” she asked, resisting the urge to look back at the cabin one final time before it was out of sight. “Where are we headed?”

“Home.”

The arduous journey over the mountains was made easier because of the horses but it was still a long, tiring venture. Hawk allowed Molly to have plenty of time to rest during each day, stopping as soon as he saw any sign of fatigue. He knew it would add time to their trip but he estimated that they would still reach their destination long before the first snow. He hoped, after a few days on the trail, that she would be able to ride for longer stretches of time.

Each night, when they made camp, he insisted that she gather wood for the fire. She was unaware that the chore had been specifically assigned to her for the sole purpose of helping her muscles to stretch. Uncomplaining, Molly gathered several armloads of wood, moving easier by the time the chore was finished.

As long as the nights stayed clear, Hawk didn’t bother to put up any kind of shelter. He had a large oilcloth tied to the packhorse that he had brought just for the times when it rained. For himself, he could have found adequate shelter to wait out a storm. But Molly needed the protection the cloth would provide.