LeClerc 03 - Wild Savage Heart Read online

  At dinner that evening, Hawk carefully laid out the schedule of which things should be done first and which could wait. Neither Molly or Adam disagreed with him, after all, this was the reason they needed him. However, when the cabin came at the bottom of the list, Molly couldn’t help questioning it.

  “Is there a dead tree around here?” she asked innocently.

  “There’s a lot of dead trees, Molly mine. Why?”

  “I just wondered if there was one big enough for us to live in. With all the work that needs to be done it sounds like it’ll be next summer before we get to the cabin.”

  “You’ll have your cabin before winter,” Hawk promised quietly. “It won’t be fancy but it’ll keep the snow off you.”

  “That’s all I need!” Molly replied cheerfully. “Now, if you’ll be so kind as to fix some more of that God-awful-smelling stuff, I’ll go take a bath.”

  They worked from sunup to sundown every day, quitting only when darkness made it dangerous for them to continue. A natural clearing on a level portion of the hill seemed the perfect spot to locate the garden. Adam walked behind one of the oxen pulling the plow while Hawk hitched up the other one to remove larger rocks and the stumps of a few trees they had cut down.

  Molly’s job was to remove the numerous small rocks from the plowed-up dirt and stack them neatly for later use. The first couple of days were filled with pain and physical exhaustion. She was unaware that her strength was slowly increasing. But then one evening she found that she was tired but not extremely so. A feeling of pride and accomplishment filled her at the knowledge that she could be a help rather than a hindrance to Adam.

  Even the evenings were far from idle. Hawk’s lessons began again. He had Adam chop down a few hickory saplings and make handles for the shovel and ax heads they had brought from Charleston. Molly’s job was to clear the smaller branches from small chestnut trees that Hawk intended to use as fence rails for the corral.

  Hawk began to make some of the tools that would be necessary when actual building began. He carefully shaped handles for hammers, hatchets and adzes, axlike tools with a curved blade, used for shaping and smoothing a plank.

  The number of tools Hawk created amazed Molly. She had thought that only an ax would be necessary to build their cabin. Patiently, as they all worked on their assigned chores. Hawk explained what each tool was and how it worked. Most of the iron tool heads had been purchased in Charleston without handles to help lighten the load in the wagon.

  “How do you know so much about tools?” Molly asked as she laid aside one small fence log and reached for another. “I don’t remember anyone ever mentioning that Indians did a lot of woodworking.”

  “Actually, Mrs. Royse,” Hawk replied quietly, “before they moved further west to escape the destruction of whites, my people built permanent settlements with log homes and big gardens.” He was quiet for several long minutes as he thought of the stories told to him by Linsey and Luc of the place where he had been born but which he had never seen. “Now my people are more nomadic and their homes aren’t built for permanence as they once were.

  “However, you are correct, I didn’t learn woodworking from them. My stepfather is proficient with woodworker’s tools. Some of the pieces of furniture he has built are true works of art. He put those tools in my hands when I was a small child and taught me how to use them.”

  For the first time in their acquaintance, Molly thought of the difficulties Hawk had faced as a child. “It must have been confusing for you, being raised by white step-parents and Indian parents.”

  “Not until I ventured into the city,” Hawk answered. “I thought it was quite natural to have two sets of parents who lived such disparate lives.

  “I would spend months living with Linsey and Luc, sleeping in a feather bed, learning to read and write and how to live as a white man. Then my father would come for me and I’d return to his village and spend months sleeping under the stars, learning to hunt and track, hearing the stories told by the old ones of a way of life that would never be again.

  “Don’t feel sorry for me, Mrs. Royse,” his voice softened as he correctly interpreted the sympathy in her voice. “I had the best of both worlds. Every child should be raised in such a manner, for surely his life would be richer for knowing how others live.” Molly realized she had learned more about Hawk in the last few minutes than she had known in all the months before. His love and pride for both of his families was clearly evident in his voice and she was almost envious that her childhood had not been the same.

  Once the garden was plowed, the men began the process of building the corral while Molly planted. Corn, squash, peas and several different kinds of beans were sown in neat parallel rows. When the last seeds were in the ground, Molly sighed with satisfaction. With, the grace of God and a little rain, they’d have plenty of food to see them through the winter.

  The garden and the corral were both finished the same day, but Hawk, instead of allowing them to rest, insisted they start the next project, and then the next, working methodically until finally the day arrived when they began felling trees for the cabin.

  As the two men chopped down one tree after another it became Molly’s job to clean it of its branches. She quickly grew adept with the small hand ax and even managed the larger one when necessary.

  Once the log was cleaned of its branches they cut it to the correct length, which Hawk told them was called “bucking the log.” Next, to protect the log from insect infestation and rot, Hawk made a slit down one side of the log and, using a stick he had sharpened to a blunt chisel point, he stripped the bark from the log. Most of it came off in one piece and was carefully laid aside to be used later as roofing material.

  Whenever possible they used the strength of the oxen to pull the logs to the location of the cabin. However, the thickly wooded area sometimes made that impractical. Molly marvelled at the raw strength of the two men as they attached cant hooks to opposite ends of the huge logs and carried them into a clearing where the ox would finish hauling them out.

  Slowly, day after day, log by log, the pile grew. It was visible proof of their labors but Molly grew impatient for the actual construction to begin.

  “Breakfast!” Molly yelled to the two men who were immersed in conversation at the site they had selected for the cabin. Even so early in the morning the day promised to be a hot one, she thought as she wiped at the perspiration dotting her brow.

  “Today’s the day, Molly mine,’ Adam said with a grin as he took the plate from her hands and kissed the end of her upturned nose.

  “The day for what?” She handed Hawk a plate filled with food and turned to fix one for herself. “The day we begin your new home!”

  Molly’s eyes grew wide with excitement as she looked from one man to the other. After all the days of backbreaking work, of hands sticky with sap and splinters deeply embedded in tender flesh, after long days of promise that the effort would bear results, she couldn’t believe that it was at long last time to begin the cabin.

  “Really? Are you sure? When do we begin? What can I do?” Excitement rippled through her voice and she nearly danced with the impatience to begin.

  “You can sit down and eat your breakfast,” Adam said sternly, his twinkling eyes belying the forbidding scowl.

  “I can eat breakfast anytime,” she replied with a wide smile. “Let’s start building our house.”

  “Eat, Molly, or two hours from now you’ll faint due to hunger.” He took his own advice and began eating. “The cabin will take weeks to complete so there’s no reason to hurry.”

  While Molly rushed to clean up the breakfast dishes, Adam and Hawk began laying out the actual position of the cabin. They decided that the windowless back of the structure would face north to provide some protection from winter winds. Even though hostile Indians were no longer considered a problem in the area, Hawk suggested that they build in the open rather than under a strand of trees. It would provide Adam with an unhampered vie
w of the ground surrounding his home and anyone bent on mischief would be unable to sneak up on them.

  “What can I do?” Molly asked with excitement as she walked up to the site.

  “Stay out of the way,” Hawk replied firmly.

  Molly placed her hands on her hips and had to force herself not to stamp her foot in vexation. After weeks of waiting to begin construction, she wanted to do something, anything!

  “I don’t want to stay out of the way, I want to help!”

  “Molly mine,” Adam said quietly, “staying out of our way will help.”

  “That’s no help.”

  Hawk looked at her and knew she would continue to plague them unless he set her to a chore. His eyes searched the area looking for something for her to do that would keep her busy and out of their way. He spied the immense pile of bark and knew he’d found the answer.

  “You can begin cutting the roofing shingles,” he said as he walked toward the pile of bark. She nearly danced with excitement as she walked beside him, and Hawk had to hide a grin. She acted like a small child who’d been given a special treat.

  “Cut each piece about fifteen inches long.” He took a heavy knife and cut through the tough bark.

  “Then lay it as flat as you can. When you have a good-sized stack of cut pieces, find something heavy to lay on them so that they’ll dry flat.”

  He handed her the knife and waited for her to begin. “Any questions?” he asked, surprised by her noticeable hesitation. She had never refused or complained about any chore he had given her, in fact his respect and admiration for her had grown because of her willingness to attempt anything.

  “Just one … how long is fifteen inches?”

  He should have known she wasn’t refusing to work, he thought with a chuckle as he looked around for a stick. He broke it to the proper length and handed it to her to use as a guide. He waited until she had completed one shingle and he nodded approval. With the pile of bark nearly as high and wide as he was tall, Hawk knew Molly would be busy for days!

  The bark-shingle roofing would only be temporary, needing to be replaced within a year or two, but Hawk wanted the cabin itself to stand for as long as Adam and Molly needed it. He knew that they could build a cabin in only a few days but because of that desire for permanence he chose building methods that would take longer but would hold up to the passage of time.

  Adam looked up from his task and watched as Molly struggled to master her new chore. The long sleeves of her linen dress were neatly rolled up past her elbows, and several buttons on the high-necked garment were loose to catch the slightest breeze. She had braided her golden hair and swirled the resulting rope around her head.

  The sun had turned her skin to the color of rich, sweet honey, bringing out a wealth of freckles on her nose and cheeks. As he watched he saw her tongue peek out from between her lips as she concentrated on mastering her new task.

  Adam’s gaze traveled to Hawk and he saw on that stoic countenance an expression that disappeared as quickly as it came. Adam knew he would have missed it had he not been watching at that precise moment.

  The expression that Adam had glimpsed so briefly had brought a gentleness to Hawk’s face that Adam had never witnessed before. He wondered if Hawk even realized that he was in love with Molly.

  He felt a fleeting sadness for his friend, followed immediately by immense pride in his wife. Sadness that Hawk would never know the reality of being loved by Molly and pride that she had given all of her love to Adam.

  Adam felt no distress at the knowledge. He knew beyond any doubt that his wife loved him with such intensity that she was incapable of seeing any other man.

  Hawk walked back to the cabin site, shaking his head with amusement. The job was going to take her days to complete, and he had no doubt that each shingle would be cut to the same size and then neatly stacked in bundles. Right now she had to concentrate fiercely on each piece she cut, but he knew it was only a matter of time before she mastered the chore.

  “She’s something, isn’t she?” Adam said, his arms folded across the top of the handle of a shovel.

  “She’s something, but what?” Hawk asked with a chuckle. “I’ve never seen a woman quite like her.”

  “Hawk,” Adam’s voice grew serious as he looked at his long-time friend, “this seems like a good time to ask a favor.”

  “Ask.”

  Adam hesitated briefly, “If something happens to me will you see to it that Molly gets back to Charleston? Or if she doesn’t want to go there, then wherever she wants to go?”

  “You have a premonition of disaster?”

  “Nothing like that,” Adam replied with a grin. “I intend to hang around loving her until I’m an old, old man. But I want to know that if something does happen to me she’ll be safe.”

  “As you are my brother, so shall she be my sister,” Hawk stated quietly. “I’ll see to her.”

  With a nod of mutual understanding they turned and began leveling the ground where the cabin would stand.

  By the end of the day Molly had several small stacks of shingles, and the cabin’s foundation — sills and the first two rows of logs — had been set in place. Molly marvelled at the fit of the V-shaped notches on the logs. Hawk explained that the shape took a little longer to cut but it would help prevent water from pooling in the logs and causing rot.

  Standing inside the structure, Molly realized for the first time exactly how small her new home was to be. Measuring twenty feet by twenty feet, the square, one-room cabin would be smaller than the formal sitting room in her father’s mansion back in Charleston.

  But it would be filled with love, she vowed to herself, as the lovely, lifeless mansion had never been. It would be a home, never a showplace, and people would feel welcomed for themselves not for their position in society.

  Slowly, the cabin took shape and the piles of shingles grew, until the day came when all of the bark was cut and the last log was ready to be pulled into place.

  As the men prepared the final log for hoisting into place, Molly walked through the doorway cut in the logs. She could have looked out the sole window set near the doorway but it was unnecessary since the logs had yet to be chinked with mud, leaving her a variety of places to peek out from.

  “Come outside, Molly,” Adam chuckled as she peeked enticingly through the logs. “We’re about to raise the last log.”

  “Can I watch from in here?”

  “Nope, too dangerous. We could lose control of the log and it could land right on top of your little head.”

  She walked out of the cabin and moved around to the side to watch. There was still a lot of work to be done — chinking between the logs, a fireplace, the roof — but this last log marked the end of the first stage of construction.

  A huge log had been split and its sides smoothed to be used as a slide. Hawk and Adam each attached a rope to one end of a log, climbed to opposite sides of the cabin and then hoisted the log up the slide. It was hard, dangerous work and Molly would be glad when it was finished.

  The slides were placed so that the slope was as gradual as possible but the men both had to use every ounce of strength they possessed to pull the massive logs up the incline.

  “This is it, Molly!” Adam called from his side of the cabin. He sat with his legs wrapped around the top log, a position that helped stabilize him and prevent him from falling.

  “Get to it!” Molly called cheerfully. “I’ve got a big celebration supper just about cooked!”

  In deference to the summer heat, both men worked without shirts. Molly watched in appreciation of their effort to raise the log as muscles bunched and strained. Streams of sweat rippled down bodies that surged and swelled with exertion. Arms and shoulders tensed and stretched as they struggled with the weight of the log.

  Molly’s eyes were glued to Adam as she admired his slick, gleaming body. She felt a tightening of her body as she remembered his capable hands caressing her. Her nipples budded at the memory o
f his lips tugging and pulling against her breast. Wrapping her arms around her waist, Molly tried to control a surge of desire that flooded through her.

  As a team, the two men pulled on the rope that slowly guided the log into place. She admired what seemed to be perfect coordination between them.

  Molly’s breath caught in her throat when it appeared for a moment that Adam was losing his balance. She began to breathe easier when he righted himself but just as she released a sigh of relief he again started to fall.

  Unsuccessfully clawing and digging for purchase on the smooth-sided log, Adam plunged to the ground, landing with bone-jarring impact. Dazed and incapable of moving, he waited for the breath to return to his lungs. Only when he opened his eyes did he become aware of his dangerous situation. By then, it was too late.

  Far too late.

  Molly watched with horror as the huge log teetered briefly. She was unaware of Hawk’s towering struggle to halt its downward slide. But the strength and willpower of one man was not enough against the weight of the log as the rope tore through his grasping hands. She started running toward Adam even as the log plummeted onto his battered body.

  “Adam? Please, dear God, let him be all right,” she whispered as she knelt at his side. She pushed his hair back from his eyes, noting a darkening bruise on his forehead. She was unaware of Hawk lifting the log from Adam’s chest, his fear for his friend giving him the strength to fling it away with effortless ease.

  “Adam? Please, Adam?” she whispered, afraid beyond hope. She looked up as Hawk reached her, his chest heaving from his efforts.

  Hawk stared with growing dread at Adam. The huge log had landed in the center of Adam’s chest, destroying bone and muscle, crushing delicate tissue and leaving his chest cavity concave from its weight.

  Hawk’s gaze traveled slowly to Adam’s face, seeing the faint signs of life that he knew would soon flutter out like the delicate flame of a candle in the winds of a summer storm.