LeClerc 03 - Wild Savage Heart Page 3

  Molly had walked slowly, savoring the sights and smells of the shops. She was in no rush to return home, so that by the time she had finished her shopping a summer storm was brewing, turning the sky to black, as a fierce wind blew threateningly.

  As Molly rounded a corner the wind caught her bonnet, pulling it from her head. She tried to catch it, losing her grip on her full basket. Watching her bonnet blow away, Molly contended with her scattered items and fought to maintain her dignity as the gale played with her skirts.

  Her savior came in the form of a young man with laughing blue eyes who returned her hat to her and helped to gather up her things. He carefully kept his eyes averted when the wind raised her skirt nearly to her knees.

  Hailing a hackney, Adam Royse escorted Molly to her home. Nearly every morning after that fateful meeting, Adam would be in the vicinity when Molly went shopping. It was only later that he confessed that their continued meetings were by design rather than accident.

  And those meetings led to this, Molly thought contentedly as she swayed with the movements of the wagon. They spent the remainder of the afternoon nibbling on the sweet berries and talking about the past and the future, in the way of all new lovers.

  Since it was not quite spring, darkness still came early and a chill filled the air. When Nathan did not return, Adam began looking for a place to spend the night. They had been following a river most of the day, so searching for water was not a problem.

  He finally found a place slightly off the trail where the trees thinned, allowing adequate room for the wagon. While Molly stretched, and gathered firewood, Adam unhitched the team. It was a chore that he was still unfamiliar with and therefore did rather slowly. By the time he was finished, Molly had cleared a spot for the fire, as she had seen Nathan do the night before.

  Building and lighting the fire wasn’t quite as simple as Nathan had made it look, but Molly persevered, smiling with delight when a feeble flame began to lick at the kindling.

  “What’s for dinner, wife?” Adam asked as he approached the frail fire. His blue eyes sparkled with delight that they had managed to set up camp by themselves. He knew he had a lot to learn before he could comfortably provide for Molly in their new home. But this was the beginning and already he knew more than he had known only a week ago.

  Flopping down on the ground beside her, he watched as Molly slowly fed small sticks to the greedily growing flame. “You kill it, I’ll cook it,” she replied with a grin.

  She jumped in startled surprise as two rabbit carcasses were dropped on the ground beside her.

  “I killed them. You cook them.”

  She turned her eyes from the repulsive remains and met the challenge in the night-dark gaze that taunted her and seemed to find her lacking in every way.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “You have to clean them before you can cook them.” Hawk nodded toward the rabbits.

  “At home I often helped our cook prepare our meals,” Molly said defensively, “I admit to lacking the ability to clean a carcass, however, I am willing to learn.”

  Glancing quickly at the dead animals, Molly raised her chin and met his detached gaze. She wouldn’t let this civilized savage see her revulsion. As she climbed to her feet she wondered if Nathan was as civilized as Adam liked to believe. It seemed to her that the further they traveled from town the more his veneer of culture slipped from his shoulders.

  She nearly bit through the side of her cheek as she bent over and picked up the rabbits by their fuzzy hind legs. She kept telling herself they were just like the plucked chickens she would sometimes carry home from market when their cook had been too busy to clean one of their own that they kept for that purpose. But the chickens had claws and skin on their legs, not this soft fur. And the chickens didn’t have long, soft ears that flopped gently against her skirt.

  “I’ll clean them, Molly,” Adam volunteered. “You get the fire going and you can cook them when I get back.”

  It was so tempting to hand them over to Adam but one look at Nathan’s face was all it took to reject that idea. She wouldn’t give him proof, so early in their journey, that she was useless.

  “No, Adam, cooking is my job. You and Mr. Hawk have enough to do without adding that chore to your list.” She smiled bravely at her husband, then she turned and headed toward the river, the rabbits held at arm’s length from her body. “Keep the fire going, please. I’ll be back.”

  Finding a conveniently large rock beside the water Molly laid the rabbits on it and then realized she had come away without a knife. One appeared almost magically just as she turned to go back to camp.

  “Thank you,” she said graciously, reaching for the knife. Molly studied the animals and wondered where to begin. “Thank you, little rabbit, for sacrificing your life for us,” she mumbled to the body. “I know you were innocently enjoying your life and I am sorry it is you who must provide nourishment for our hunger.”

  Hawk was startled by her words to the animal. It was common for the Indians to pray for forgiveness to animal spirits but he had never heard of a white person, particularly a white woman, doing so. He wondered if it was a calculated move on her part to win his sympathy so that he would take over the chore she so obviously abhorred.

  Perhaps it was that short prayer that changed his mind. Maybe it was the bewildered way Molly studied the rabbit. Whatever the reason, Hawk took his knife from its sheath on his thigh and moved up beside her. He had intended to let her clean the animal without guidance, now he would show her.

  Without a word to her, Hawk began to clean one of the rabbits. He worked slowly, waiting for her to follow each step as he did it. He bit back a grin as her face took on a green hue at the grisly job. His admiration for her moved up several notches when she completed the chore without a word of complaint.

  Molly looked at her carcass and compared it to Hawk’s. He had removed the fur in one neat piece while she had clumps of matted fur scattered all around the rock where they worked. Her rabbit had nicks and gouges, his was clean and smooth.

  “Guess it takes practice,” she mumbled as she knelt and washed the rabbit.

  “You did good.”

  Never had such limited praise meant more. Molly grinned and washed the blood from her hands. While she finished cleaning up both herself and the rabbit, Hawk buried the remains. He rolled his skin, intending to start the cleaning process later that night. He couldn’t help wondering what her reaction would be when she saw him beginning the tanning process.

  They walked companionably back to camp, Molly carrying her cleaned rabbit with a grip much firmer than the one she had used earlier.

  “I did good!” Molly exclaimed to Adam, holding up her pitiful-looking rabbit.

  “I’m real proud of you, honey.” Adam kissed her quickly. “However it wasn’t necessary for you to do such a chore.” He looked at Hawk, his eyes conveying his message. “From here on out I’ll clean the game.”

  “She has to learn,” Hawk said quietly.

  “Not something like that, she doesn’t.”

  “Too much protection could kill her. Do you want her to starve if the day should come when she finds need to provide for herself?”

  Adam’s eyes narrowed. “She’s been gently raised. She’ll learn, but you don’t need to force everything on her at once.”

  “You both have a lot to learn and a short time to do it in.” Hawk’s voice didn’t portray the irritation he felt at Adam’s overprotective attitude. “It’s not going to be easy for either of you. And at times some of the chores are going to be downright unpleasant. She either learns now when I’m here to teach her or she learns the hard way later. The decision is yours.” Molly stood between the two determined men and would have stamped her foot if it would have done any good. The leaf-covered ground would have absorbed any sound, however, probably doing nothing but hurting her foot. But she’d had enough of them discussing her as if she wasn’t there.

  “If you two are finished planning my fut
ure instruction, I’d like to get these rabbits cooking. I’m hungry.” Actually, after cleaning the animals, eating was the last thing Molly wanted to do. She wondered if she’d ever want to eat again!

  Molly watched closely as Hawk made a quick spit out of a couple of hardy sticks. He spread the fire out so that it was wide enough to cook both of the rabbits.

  “Fill the coffeepot with water,” he instructed.

  Adam stood to the side, the only signs of his agitation were his white-knuckled fists hanging at his side. When Molly returned from the river with the water she knew words had been spoken between the two men. Adam was working with controlled intensity, preparing their sleeping place. Nathan appeared calm and relaxed but Molly observed the pulsating muscle in his sculptured jaw.

  Hawk poured some of the water into two other pots, then added coffee to the remaining water and set it on some hot coals to boil.

  She watched as Hawk poured some corn meal into the dutch oven then added wild onion and enough water to make a smooth batter. He placed the heavy pan in a bed of coals and covered the lid with hot ashes.

  Earlier in the day Hawk had found and picked some mushrooms and wild mustard. He combined them with more onions and put them on the fire to cook. He instructed Molly on how to watch the food so that it didn’t burn, then he left her to finish their meai.

  From the corner of her vision Molly watched as Hawk unrolled the rabbit fur. He made a frame from four pieces of wood then stretched the fur on the frame. Rather than being repelled, as he had thought she’d be, she was watching with fascination as he sat in the light of the fire and began the long cleaning process. His movements were surprisingly graceful as he freed the remaining flesh from the hide.

  When Hawk realized she was truly interested he explained the process of tanning a hide to her. Her nose wrinkled femininely at the mention of some of the steps, particularly when he talked about making a mixture of brains and urine.

  Hawk watched for her reaction and for the first time he smiled at Molly. His black eyes twinkled, his white teeth sparkled and dimples appeared as deep creases beside his mouth.

  Molly caught her breath at the male beauty in his face. She instantly saw the reason why so many women were fascinated by him. The smile changed his face from controlled ruthlessness to savage magnetism. He was the epitome of male beauty and perfection.

  Molly forced her eyes away from him, feeling swamped by her attraction to him. She looked at Adam, and her guilt escalated. She was newly married to a man she loved and adored and yet she was attracted to her husband’s friend.

  Molly was too young and inexperienced to know that marriage did not create blindness to the physical attractiveness of other men. She had yet to learn that there was nothing immoral in appreciating that beauty and so she suffered an unnecessary guilt.

  “I’ll show you how to make beaver-tail soup one night,” Hawk commented casually. “The meat of the beaver isn’t to my liking, but the tail is sweet and tender.”

  “Uck!” was her only comment. Checking the cooking food, Molly decided it was ready and she called both men to eat. Still not sure that she was hungry, Molly placed small helpings of each item on her tin plate. She closed her eyes and forced herself not to remember the soft, furry body as she bit into the rabbit.

  “It’s good!” she exclaimed in surprise. She took another bite. She met Adam’s gaze and smiled with pride. “Someday, I’ll do this all by myself. But as much as I hate to admit it, I think we do need the instruction Mr. Hawk is willing to give us.”

  Her eyes twinkled as she thought of the lessons her husband had taught her last night. Later she would tell Adam that there was definitely one place where he needed no instruction.

  The journey west became a series of everyday lessons for both Molly and Adam. Hawk was evervigilant in his determination to teach both of them as much as possible as quickly as possible. He deliberately avoided passing through towns or stopping at way stations. Not only was he trying to outwit Charles Gallagher, but he knew Molly and Adam both needed as much time as he could give them to learn the hardships of frontier life. Nearly everything they did was a lesson, and his opinion of Molly slowly changed.

  In the weeks of travel he had never heard her express one word of complaint. She handled her share of the chores and even laughed at herself and at her lack of expertise. But he noticed that once she was shown how to do something, Molly worked diligently until that particular chore became natural.

  He brought in different game each night — deer, quail, even the promised beaver tail — and showed her the different methods to clean and cook them. Her nose still wrinkled as she gutted the animals, bringing a smile to his stern expression.

  And she never failed to thank the animal spirit for its sacrifice.

  Adam also learned everything Hawk could teach him. And he no longer argued against Molly’s learning some of the more unpleasant aspects of frontier living. He acknowledged that their very existence might someday depend on her knowledge.

  For Molly it was one long, glorious adventure. She maintained a distance from Hawk, still infatuated by his beauty and repelled by the savage intensity that increased the further they moved away from civilization.

  As she had anticipated, the morning came when Hawk no longer curbed his hair with a thong. It hung to his shoulders, a glossy blue-black proclamation of his heritage, held back from his facfe by a band of red cotton fabric around his forehead.

  If the days were a glorious adventure, the nights were unsurpassed in sensual bliss. Adam spent hours teaching her the pleasures of making love. Molly would have been mortified to the tips of her toes if she had known that Hawk slept far away from them each night, not because of a desire to give them privacy, but rather because he couldn’t tolerate hearing Adam’s sounds of satisfaction.

  The flat land of the coast quickly turned into rolling hills. Thick pine trees gave way to huge oak, birch and chestnut trees that blocked the sky from view. In the far distance the smoky blue mountains reigned supreme on the horizon. Their destination was within sight, still separated from them by weeks of hard travel.

  Soon after lunch Hawk called a halt. The farther they travelled the rougher the trail became. As he had known would happen, the spring rains made holes, then hid them in harmless-looking puddles. After falling into a particularly deep hole, one of the wheels on the wagon needed some work. They made camp in a spot surrounded by giant trees more beautiful than any Molly had ever seen before.

  Deciding to take advantage of the stop and the warm sunshine overhead, Molly gathered up some of their dirty clothes. They’d had nearly constant rain for the last week, which had made it impossible for her to wash anything and get it dry. She hoped there might be enough daylight left to dry most of the things, and the few that remained damp could be spread out in the morning to dry inside the wagon.

  As usual they camped within walking distance of a stream. It was crystal clear, deeper in the middle than on the banks. Humming cheerfully, Molly washed the shirts, skirts and pants she had carried to the river with her.

  After she finished with the last piece of clothing and draped it over a bush to dry, Molly sighed with tired satisfaction. Pushing her hair from her damp forehead, she looked at the water that enticingly invited her to cool off in its silver depths.

  She looked back toward camp and knew that she was out of sight of the two men working on the wagon. No longer resisting the siren call of the rippling current, Molly stripped to her drawers and chemise. She would have liked to remove all of her clothes but without the protection of walls she couldn’t overcome her innate modesty. She pulled the pins from her hair, shaking her head and letting the honey-colored mass fall to her waist.

  Molly slipped into the stream until she was waistdeep. The water enfolded her in its promised coolness. She ducked beneath the surface and wished she had soap to wash her hair. It hadn’t felt or looked clean since they had left Charleston.

  Surfacing, she wiped the moistur
e from her eyes. And froze. A water snake glided on the smooth surface not more than a foot from her. Its body was nearly as big around as her forearm and its mouth was open, showing her the cottony interior that gave it its name. Beady eyes looked unblinkingly into hers as it turned its head back and forth, its tongue tasting her scent on the wind. Inch-long fangs dangled threateningly.

  Too terrified to move or to even scream for help, Molly stood and watched as it swayed hypnotically in the gently moving water. She tried desperately to call for help but she could only manage a soft squeak. But in her mind, Molly screamed repeatedly for Adam, or even Hawk, to come to her rescue.

  Hawk strained to lift the wagon the fraction of an inch necessary for Adam to slip the wheel back into place. He had removed his shirt because of the heat, and his sleek skin shone shiny with sweat over his muscular chest and shoulders.

  Adam slid the wheel into place as a scream of terror thundered through Hawk’s head, nearly driving him to his knees. Instinctively he reached for the rifle propped against a tree and took off at a dead run for the river.

  Adam watched in bewildered amazement as his friend ran from the campsite. More out of curiosity than out of real concern, Adam followed him, wondering why Hawk had suddenly stopped working on the wagon, grabbed his rifle and ran.

  Molly never took her eyes from the snake but was aware when Hawk arrived at the bank. The roar of the rifle deafened her hearing as the snake’s body exploded in front of her eyes. She watched as the current carried it downstream. And still she couldn’t move.

  “You are safe now,” Hawk murmured quietly from the bank just as Adam reached his side. “Come on out.”

  She couldn’t move. Molly tried to force her legs to carry her toward the promised safety of the voice on the bank but she was frozen by fear.