LeClerc 01 - Autumn Ecstasy Page 5

  When the fire was burning brightly, he removed his heavy, ice-coated deerhide coat. The stew he had made before he left still hung on the hook beside the fireplace, and he moved the pot and its frozen contents toward the heat. His body cried out for sleep while his belly complained of hunger. He would wait until the food was warm, eat and then sleep until the storm abated.

  As he stood near the fire, Luc realized he had carried the animal carcasses inside with him. He knew he should take the time to clean them, but his tired body refused to make any unnecessary movements. Picking them up from the floor where he had dropped them, he carried them to the door and placed them outside the cabin. More than likely some animal would find them before he woke, but at the moment he did not begrudge losing them. The fight to get home had consumed his considerable strength to a point that he wanted only to rest.

  The stew came to a bubbling boil, its aroma filling the cabin. When he found his cup and plate on the table instead of the shelf, he filled them, but his gaze continuously scanned the room. Someone had been in his cabin during his absence, someone who either did not know how to start a fire or had waited until the ashes were almost dead before adding more wood. It was not unusual for a traveler to seek shelter in someone else’s cabin. It was unusual for that person to have moved on during a blizzard.

  When his stomach was pleasantly full, he carefully added more logs to the blazing fire and turned toward the bed and its tumble of furs and blankets. The far side of the cabin lay in shadowed darkness, but already the heat was beginning to warm it. The ice coating his clothing began to melt, making the garments wet and heavy. Chilled by the dampness, he removed them as he crossed the room, falling nude into the bed. The furs warmed his body, the heat radiating from his shoulders to the tips of his toes.

  With a contented sigh, grateful to have survived in spite of his own stupidity, Luc rolled from his side to his back. His hand lay on something in the bed beside him … something soft, warm.

  Something alive.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Run! Run! He’s getting closer. Ground’s uneven, mustn’t fall. Tripping. A tree root?

  Snake!

  No! No!

  Zeke! … can’t move . . . can’t breathe. . . .

  “Shet up, girlie, or Zeke’ll have ta hug ya to deaf.”

  Behind him… an Indian! Garishly painted, moving without sound … reaching for Zeke’s scraggly hair. A feathered tomahawk slicing through the air.

  A grisly tool of death aimed for his head.

  Scream!

  Scream of death.

  Luc turned his head, his alert gaze searching for his knife. It lay where he had left it, on the table in the center of the room — another foolish error in judgement that he had no time to berate himself for at the moment. He could depend only on his own strength and a surprise attack.

  Exhaustion forgotten, Luc whipped back the concealing furs, turned and threw himself on top of his intruder. He straddled the body beneath his and pulled the arms above the head.

  Linsey’s nightmare turned to harsh reality as the breath exploded from her lungs. She struggled against his immense weight, trying to free her hands from his hold.

  Luc judged that his captive’s strength fell far short of his own, and in the flickering light he let his gaze roam. His eyes widened in amazement, and his hold slackened. A woman!

  “Mon dieu,” he whispered in the French of his childhood. ”What are you doing in my bed, little one?”

  Too frightened to hear him, Linsey knew that she must fight for her life. A man, too large to be Zeke, was holding her down. That he spoke both English and French did not register in her mind. To her he had to be the thing she most feared … an Indian.

  Taking advantage of the momentary easing of his hold, Linsey freed one hand and raked it down his chest. She twisted and turned, her hair streaming out around her, flipping over her face so that she could not see her captor.

  Too startled to respond quickly, Luc looked down at his chest and the ragged trails of blood made by her fingernails. He grunted when her closed fist landed with surprising force in the center of his stomach. Grabbing her wildly flailing arm, he pulled it back with the other one above her head. The heaving of her slender body hardly moved his, and he leisurely studied her.

  Even in the murky light it would have been impossible for him not to notice her hair. It was magnificent: a summer sunset of reds and golds; autumn leaves in the glory of full color; tarnished copper promising untold beauty. He searched for a description and could not find it. Her hair was a little of each and yet none.

  An artist would despair never finding the shades and hues to paint it on canvas.

  Her face was molded with delicate features, a tiny, slightly upturned nose and a light dusting of freckles across her cheeks. He longed to see the color of her eyes beneath the finely arched brows. His gaze drifted lower, to the creamy skin of her full breasts. Her chest rose and fell rapidly from her struggles, and he felt himself hardening as he dwelt on the tender buds peeking through the strands of long hair. He wanted to put his lips on them and sample their sweetness. Lower still was her narrow waist, gently rounded hips and flat stomach. His manhood throbbed with a life of its own when he realized it was nestled against the soft curls of her femininity.

  “Tukwahkee Sh’kotai, Autumn Fire,” he whispered in Shawnee, his voice harsh with sudden longing. “Are you a gift from some god to warm my long, cold winter nights?”

  Linsey heard his voice, and her fear intensified, nearing the breaking point. She no longer doubted that he was an Indian. The terrible tortures her cousin had hinted at were about to befall her. She stiffened, searching beyond her terror for hidden strength. If he planned to torture her, she might not be able to hide pain, but he would never see her fear.

  Luc gasped when she opened her eyes … green eyes, sparkling with the vibrant color of emeralds or new leaves of spring. Again he was left wanting a description.

  Linsey’s defiant gaze saw hair as blue-black as a raven’s wing, without the slightest hint of a curl. His face was hidden by the murky shadows, unveiled in the flickering light. Distorted by slopes and ridges where none should have been. A demonic specter created from the fires of hell.

  Her scream splintered the silence. It echoed through the tiny cabin, reverberating off the walls. She screamed like one who had been touched by the burning hand of the devil.

  “Easy, little one.” His deeply husky voice was quietly soothing. “Do not struggle so hard. You will harm yourself.”

  There were many questions that needed an answer, but he knew that first he must reassure the girl, for he was well aware of the effect of his appearance on most people the first time they saw him.

  “Shhh.” He smoothed the silky mass of tangled hair from her face as Linsey struggled to free herself from his hold. Fearing she would injure herself while thrashing around, Luc held her firmly and talked quietly until she began to show signs of tiring.

  “You grow weary of this struggle, eh, petite ange?” He cupped her cheek within his massive hand, rubbing her soft skin with his work-roughened thumb. He gritted his teeth when her breasts heaved against his chest, their pointed tips seeming to burn into his flesh. His stomach rested in the hollow of hers, and the throbbing hardness of his loins ground against her thigh, needlessly reminding him how long it had been since he’d shared his bed with a woman. He knew most men would take her in spite of her terror, perhaps deriving greater pleasure because of it. But it was not his way. He would find no satisfaction in rape.

  Beneath him Linsey strained for each breath. Her eyes were tightly closed. She did not need to open them to remember the horror of the face above her. It was a nightmare visage, the thing mothers spoke of to threaten misbehaving children.

  When her struggles stilled, Luc eased his hold, supporting himself on his elbow. “I am going to let you go, but I’m not moving far away, only to the other side of the bed.”

  Prepared for any sudden
movement from her, he lifted up and rolled off her smooth body. He regretted the necessity of covering her obvious charms even as he pulled one of the furs over her.

  Linsey grabbed the fur as if it would provide her the protection of a suit of armor. She wondered if her fear had heightened her imagination. Maybe he wasn’t as horrible as she thought. She slowly opened her eyes and found herself staring into eyes as black as night.

  “Hello,” Luc said quietly, aware of the fear clouding her face.

  “Hello,” Linsey replied inanely, wanting to look at his face but too frightened to move her gaze from his.

  “I’m going to get up and add more wood to the fire.” Earlier he had prepared it for the night, but it was the only excuse he could find to leave the bed. And leave it he must before his lust overpowered his good intentions.

  At Linsey’s nod, he swiftly rolled over and stood. Dragging a fur with him, he wrapped it around his nude body as he walked across the room.

  Linsey carefully kept him in view. She studied his profile as he knelt at the fire. The light from the golden flame danced over a classically sculptured, symmetrically beautiful face. She shook her head slightly, wondering at her imagination. There was no hint of the grotesque countenance she had thought she had seen earlier. In fact, his features were perfect, almost too perfect to be real. The fur draped over his shoulders seemed to accentuate their size, and she realized he was one of the largest men she had ever seen.

  Deciding to use his distraction to her advantage, Linsey carefully wrapped a blanket around herself and stood. She knew he would return to the bed once he was satisfied with the fire, and she did not want their next confrontation to occur there. Keeping the table between herself and him, she slowly sat down in a chair. It was laughable to think that the sturdy table would provide any defense should he decide to attack, but it was the only obstacle she could set in his path.

  A large knife lay on the edge of the table, and Linsey’s eyes moved from it to the man and back again. She could use it as a weapon. Maybe, if she were lucky, she could provide herself with some protection. Her hand reached hesitantly toward it.

  “I mean you no harm, Autumn Fire,” he said quietly over his shoulder. “But if the knife makes you feel safer, hold on to it.”

  His back was toward her, and she wondered how he could have known she was reaching for the knife. As he turned, she raised startled eyes to his, and she saw the gentleness in his gaze, a slight smile tugging at the comers of his lips.

  There was no mystery in his knowledge of her actions, only years of learning from his Shawnee friends. Luc could have told her that he had been aware of her every move since she had climbed out of bed. He had heard her wrap the blanket around herself and the quiet sound of her steps as she crossed the room. There had been total silence when she reached the table, and he had remembered the knife at the same instant a slight rustling told him she was reaching for it.

  Linsey grabbed for the knife when he stood abruptly. Her blanket slipped, and she struggled to hold it in place with one hand while keeping the knife pointed at him with the other.

  Luc’s smile was one of gentle amusement. “Forget your nudity in battle,” he advised softly. “There is no place for modesty when the life you are fighting to save is your own.”

  He turned away from the fire, and Linsey gasped, for the moment forgetting her struggles. It had not been her imagination. The flames seemed to flare, brightening the room. If one side of his face had been a thing of rare beauty, this side was flawed.

  “It is only a face, little one. Skin and bone, scars earned in battle. It can not harm you.”

  His voice penetrated her mesmerized stare. As her eyes met his, she found that she wanted to erase his look of understanding. She wanted to apologize for staring so rudely, but not as much as she wanted to turn and run from the cabin so that she never had to see him again.

  “I’m sorry,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper.

  “For what? For the scars? You were little more than a child when they happened, and I have come to accept them. For staring?” He shrugged lightly. “If I met me walking down a trail, I too would forget the lessons of my mother; I would stare,”

  “Does it hurt?” Linsey cringed mentally when she heard herself ask.

  “Only when I frighten little children.” Luc rubbed the side of his face in question. “It’s been known to frighten some adults, too.”

  “You’re the Bear.” It was a statement.

  “Some call me that. I was named Luc LeClerc. You may call me whichever you wish.”

  “I think always you are a little of both, but sometimes more one than the other.” Linsey stated with perceptive cognition.

  “Each of us is more than one person; we are the echo of many.” He walked to the bed, pushed the furs away and sat down. Leaning back and stretching his big body, Luc sighed. It had been a long day; it would be a while yet before he could find sleep.

  “The bed is big enough for both of us and much warmer than the table.”

  “No!” Linsey’s hold on the knife tightened.

  He shrugged and rolled to his side. The scarred half of his face was in full view, and she averted her eyes from it.

  “How did you find my cabin? Why are you alone? Where is your family?”

  He did not seem as threatening when he was lying down, and Linsey eased the hold on the knife. She snuggled beneath the blanket and became aware of the chill in the air. Pulling her bare feet up beneath her, she told him briefly of her kidnapping and of Kaleb buying her from Jeb and Zeke.

  “He said to tell you he no longer owes you anything.”

  Luc nodded his understanding. “I saved him from the Iroquois. You are the paying of a debt.”

  “I don’t want to be payment for a debt!” She stood and began pacing the room, one hand clutching the blanket at her neck, the other firmly holding the knife. “I want to return to Philadelphia. I must see about Elizabeth.” Linsey stared into the flames of the fire, her thoughts hundreds of miles away from the cabin in the wilderness.

  “I will take you home.”

  “When? Tomorrow?” Excitement rushed through her, and her eyes sparkled happily.

  Luc grinned at her obvious excitement. “Come spring.”

  “Spring?” Linsey sputtered in agitation. “I can’t wait until spring! That’s months away!”

  Rolling to his back and folding his hands beneath his head, Luc closed his eyes. “Spend tonight outside. In the morning we will again talk of this trip.”

  “Are you crazy? There’s a blizzard going on out there!”

  “True. And by tomorrow the snow will be hip deep.” He turned his head and opened his eyes. “With adequate preparations I could survive. Could you?”

  “I could try,” she insisted stubbornly.

  “We’d get halfway between the cabin and nowhere, and you would give up. I would then have to make the decision of whether to leave you to freeze to death or to try carrying you back here. You are a little thing, Autumn Fire, but I think in the snow you would quickly become very heavy.”

  “You arrogant, stubborn — you’re so sure I couldn’t make it. I’ll have you know the trip getting here wasn’t easy, but I made it.” Linsey straightened her shoulders and raised her chin by several inches, trying to find dignity while wrapped in a blanket. “And my name is not Autumn Fire! It is Linsey Marie MacAdams!”

  “You floated downriver in weather warmer than it will be again until spring. Now we have snow; soon the river will freeze solid. We would have to walk; … it would be foolish to even consider making the trip now.” A slight smile crossed his face as he looked at her hair shining with a life of its own and at her emerald eyes spitting more flames than the fire behind her. “You are Autumn Fire. The Indians change their names as the person changes. Autumn, the ending of a life cycle, shouted gloriously in colors unmatched by man, as if nature defies anyone to take her for granted.

  The fire in you is just beneath t
he surface, flaming brightly for short moments before it hides again, “Tonight you are Autumn Fire. Tomorrow? We will see.”

  “Comparing me to something that is dying, no matter how beautiful, is not a compliment!5’ she huffed. “I will pay you to take me home.”

  “Ah, but autumn does not just fade away. It fights desperately until the very end. Even now there are snow-covered leaves clinging to the trees. Nothing can match the beauty of those leaves in full color. So, Autumn Fire, spend the night outside. We will discuss your trip in the morning.”

  Linsey paced nervously around the room, the knife dangling uselessly from her fingers as it waved back and forth in agitation.

  “Do not drop the knife; it is sharp and would easily remove your toes from your foot.” Luc broke the silence, startling Linsey from her thoughts. “Come to bed. Tomorrow will come soon enough and find the solution for your dilemma. I am tired and would like to sleep this night.”

  “Bed?” Linsey clenched the knife tightly, careful to hold it away from her body. “You can’t expect us to share the same bed!”

  “It is the only one I have, but it is big enough for both of us.”

  “A gentleman would offer me sole use of the only bed.”

  “My father was a gentleman; I am not.”

  “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me!”

  Luc chuckled. “Ain jel ee thah, I am too weary to fight you with words. Sleep where you will, but the bed is more comfortable.”

  “I shall be perfectly all right in a chair,” Linsey stated haughtily, sitting down abruptly.

  “As you wish.” Luc yawned, stretched and grabbed a few of the furs, tossing them in her direction. “Good night.”

  She couldn’t believe he was calmly going to go to sleep. Did he really expect her to spend the night sitting up in a chair? Linsey looked at the bundle lying on the floor halfway between the bed and the table. She walked over to it, picked it up and carried it back. The table! It would be hard, and even as small as she was, her feet would still hang over the end; but it was better than trying to sit up all night. She spread one of the thick furs on the table and used a chair to climb up on her make-shift bed.