Linnet gasped at the sight of him, his maleness alarming to her and she drew back from him, but he did not seem to notice as he quickly lay beside her again. In spite of her fear of the unknown, she responded quickly to his touch, to his breath in her ear, his teeth on her earlobe. He pulled her to him, his arms strong, his skin touching hers, so hot, so cool, so alive, vibrating almost. His kisses changed as his passion increased and she met that desire, tasting the skin of his neck with her teeth, so firm, so smooth.
He pulled her beneath him and the weight of him startled her, his strong, hard thighs touching her smooth, soft round ones, the dark skin of his chest touching her breasts, catching them between their bodies, and the feelings that flooded her!
At his first probing touch, her eyes opened and she tried to move away from him.
“Linnet?” he questioned in bewilderment.
“No,” she whispered desperately.
He pulled her back to him and brought his mouth down on hers forcefully. All thought of protest was gone until the first sharp pain, the hurt that caused the idea of love to flee her mind. He held her face in his hands.
“Linnet, I didn’t know. I didn’t know. Please, look at me.”
The pain had subsided some as he lay still and she opened her eyes to him. It was Devon, her Devon, and she wanted to please him. She managed a small smile and he kissed her again as he seemed to fight some inner agony.
“I…cannot…,” he whispered, and began to move. He still hurt her, but she saw the pleasure in his face, the almost ethereal look as his eyes closed and his lips parted. He collapsed on her quickly, roughly drew her to him and slept almost immediately.
Linnet lay still under his heavy arm, thinking how she wished the kissing had not stopped, for her hunger for him was not in the least assuaged. She lifted a bit and looked at the long, smooth muscles of his back and her lips wanted to touch him. How many times had she seen that skin and wanted to touch it?
He slept heavily and did not waken when she slipped from under his arm. She did not hesitate as she pressed her lips against the back of his neck, hidden and secret under black curls. His hair smelled of smoke and the strong, rich Kentucky earth. She ran her teeth along the back neck muscle, marveling at the power there, the power she held over him—the power to give him pleasure.
She felt him stir beneath her as if he came out of a stupor, but he did not turn. She began to forget who she was, no longer remembered the strict upbringing of an English nanny, the many words of “a lady doesn’t do that!” She was a woman, alone in a quiet place, and the man she loved lay beneath her, dark and warm and untouched, and months of looking had made her insatiable in her desire to touch him.
She put her hands on the round, hard muscles of his shoulders and slid her sensitive fingers along his arms until she lay on top of him, then lifted again, the sensitive tips of her breasts against his skin. She kissed him then, over the entire back of him, her hungry fingers and mouth caressing and exploring, curious, interested, excited.
“Lord, Linnet! I can’t stand any more. Come here.” He grabbed her arms and pulled her beside him and he felt her stiffen again. “I won’t hurt you again. Trust me.”
She did trust him, the trust he had asked for and received so long ago in the crude Indian hut, the trust she had since withdrawn, but now she returned it to him, with forgiveness and overflowing love. He did not hurt her again, and this time she understood the culmination of her desire. He moved slowly, carefully, until he saw that she too wanted him. She pulled at him, her fingers biting into his arms, and she moved with him, together, towering, soaring, building, and exploding as one. They lay together, entangled, wet, sated, and slept.
Devon woke first and silently, trying not to look at Linnet, sunlight drenching her lovely body, as he dressed and walked away from her. He’d had what he wanted, she’d at last repaid him for saving her and now she could have Cord, or any other man she wanted.
Without thinking about where he was going, he turned north toward his Shawnee grandfather’s. He needed time to think.
The young man who walked into the Shawnee village with a freshly killed deer across his shoulder was greeted with great affection and no little noise. The women took the deer from him and he made his way directly to the large, round wigwam of his great-grandfather. The old man’s face was a spider’s web of wrinkles, and they rearranged as he smiled up at his tall, lean grandson.
“The white man’s ways have made you soft,” he greeted the boy.
The young man self-consciously ran his hand over his hard, flat stomach and then grinned as he sat before his grandfather. “I ask permission to stay with my Shawnee brothers for a while.”
The old man nodded and took a long clay pipe from the wall of the dwelling. “You are welcome. You know that. There is something which troubles you?” He looked across the pipe bowl.
“It’s nothing that time won’t heal.”
The old man paused a moment and stared, his black eyes like tiny glass beads. “It is a woman who does this to you,” he said calmly.
The man’s head came up sharply, and the old man chuckled, a dry sound.
“I have not always been as I am now. I was young once also. You may stay and try to forget or remember this woman.”
“My grandfather is very wise.” He took the pipe from the long, thin, dry fingers and they smoked together, needing no more words.
When Linnet woke and found herself alone, it was almost as if she’d expected to find him gone. Obviously his hatred and jealousy of Cord were more than any feelings he had for her.
Quietly, she rode back to Sweetbriar.
Six weeks later, Devon had not returned, and Linnet was sure she was pregnant. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do and wondered if the people of Sweetbriar would still care about her if she bore an illegitimate child.
Corinne made her decision for her. The girl, in tears, came to Linnet and begged her to tell where Mac was. She cried harder, sneaking looks at Linnet through her wet fingers when Linnet said she had no idea where Devon was.
Corinne dramatically confessed she carried Mac’s child and he had to marry her.
Linnet began to laugh so hysterically that Corinne fled the little cabin.
In the morning, Linnet began to pack her few belongings and she asked some traders at Mac’s store if they could help her travel east. They told her of some settlers who would be traveling through day after tomorrow.
Chapter Eleven
“I HEAR YOU’RE LEAVIN’ TOMORROW,” AGNES said, her face rigid.
“Yes, I am.” Linnet answered her in the same tone.
The two women stared at one another, neither flinching. Agnes spoke first. “You’re a fool, you know.”
“I know nothing of the sort.” Linnet brought a long-handled axe down on a piece of wood.
Agnes took the axe from her. “You can maybe fool the others but you ain’t foolin’ me.”
“Agnes, please excuse me. I’ve told you before that I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“About you and Mac.”
“Mac? Oh yes, I believe I have met the man, but I don’t recall much else, certainly not enough to make us a pair.”
Agnes grabbed Linnet’s upper arms. “What’s he done to you to make you this way?”
“No one has done anything to me that I did not ask for. I am returning to the East where I belong. I refuse to remain here and wait for a selfish, pigheaded man to return and laugh at me.”
“There’s more to a man than bein’ just what you have all picked out.”
“And what possibly could be more?” Linnet asked sarcastically.
“There’s a feelin’ that’s left when you’re tired after all day washin’ diapers for a man’s kids, when you’re sick and he holds the pan to catch your heavin’s. And there’s a feelin’ for a man that makes you forgive him when he does ever’thin’ wrong, when he says and does mean things he don’t intend. And that feelin’ is love, somethin’ I think y
ou know a right smart about.”
“But you’re wrong, Agnes,” Linnet said quietly. “I know nothing about love. All I know about is a childish hero worship for a man who isn’t capable of any feelings but anger and hostility. Do you expect me to go on chasing after a man like that? I might have once, but no more. There are things, unforgivable things, between us.”
“You can’t tell me about no high-falutin’ hero worship. I know what I seen, and I’ll tell you again that you’re a fool. Go to him now, go tell him that you love him.”
Linnet’s eyes lit into an amused twinkle, but it was not a pretty expression. “But you don’t understand, Agnes. I did tell him. I told him that I loved him in the best way I could, but he just frankly doesn’t care. So now, if you’ll excuse me, I must start preparing supper.” She walked past Agnes, and for once the big woman was speechless.
The morning came all too soon and Linnet could hear the sounds of people outside her cabin, the wagons rolling into place. She gave one last look about the little room. Whatever happened in her life from now on would be without Devon Macalister. The four carvings still stood in their places on the mantel. No, she wouldn’t take them with her. That part of her life was over. She walked toward them, touching the dark wood one last time, and then she sighed and scooped the four of them into her small bundle of clothing. No matter what, she justified herself, she could always sell them.
She opened the door to Lyttle Emerson’s knock.
“It’s time to go, Lynna. The people of Sweetbriar have come to say good-bye,” he said sadly.
Linnet stepped outside and saw they waited for her. She went first to Wilma and Floyd Tucker, their four children standing quietly beside them.
“We’re gonna miss you,” Wilma began, throwing her arms around Linnet. “Thanks so much for goin’ after Jessie that time.”
Linnet turned away to hide her tears.
Floyd shook her hand, his face solemn. Jonathan, Caroline, and Mary Lynn smiled at her and said they were sorry she was leaving. Linnet knelt in front of Jessie and he held out his hand to her.
“I thought you might like it. Ain’t much, just a rock, but it’s got a hole in it.”
“Thank you, Jessie,” she said, her eyes too blurred to see. Jessie shrugged and walked away.
Esther Stark hugged her and thanked her for helping deliver the baby, Lincoln, and the four twins cried and begged her to stay. The Emerson family was the hardest. Lonnie was indignant, saying he had saved her life and she had no right to leave without his say-so.
Agnes nearly crushed her in a vigorous hug. “You ’member what I told you. You’ll always be welcome in Sweetbriar.”
Linnet shook Lyttle’s hand. The tears were running down her cheeks. She had never before realized how happy she had been in Sweetbriar until now.
At a distance stood Doll and Gaylon, no laughter in their eyes. More tears came as she thought of never seeing these two men again, hearing their teasing, their baiting of Devon. She stopped by the wagon, a few feet from the men, and dropped them the lowest, most elaborate curtsy she could manage—a curtsy for kings.
Lyttle stood ready and helped her onto the wagon seat and she never looked back.
Chapter Twelve
Sweetbriar, Kentucky—April, 1787
THE TRAPPER SLUNG THE BUNDLES OF FURS ONTO the counter and went to the fireplace to warm his hands. This was the first time he’d been to Sweetbriar in nearly two years and it had changed a lot. The settlement had nearly doubled in size, and he didn’t know very many of the people anymore. He wondered where Mac and Gaylon were and that old man who usually sat in front of the fire, Doll was his name. The trapper looked around the store and realized it had changed, too. Mac usually kept it pretty clean or made sure Gaylon did, but now it looked as if a couple of bears had spent the winter in the place.
Zeke sat down and stretched his long legs toward the fire. Maybe it had somethin’ to do with that little gal he’d seen in the Squire’s town. He was surprised when he’d seen her there, playin’ with a bunch of kids, some no taller’n her. He’d been surprised because the other time he’d seen her she’d been livin’ in Sweetbriar and was causin’ a whole lot of problems amongst the men.
Zeke had to smile as he remembered Mac sulkin’ after the girl, watchin’ her all the time and then pretendin’ not to look at her. He, Zeke, had been the same way when he was Mac’s age, but, thank the Lord, Molly had had enough sense to see through him. She’d had to use her big belly to drag him to the altar, and he’d been pretty mean to her for a while afterward, but she straightened him out, and he’d been the happiest man alive for ten years. He didn’t like to remember Molly’s death and his drinkin’ and finally how he’d sent the kids east and set out for the woods.
Zeke shook his head as he cleared away the ugly thoughts and went back to the early years with Molly. Mac was just like him—scared to death of what he felt for the girl. It does somethin’ to a man to love somebody so much, because then he gives up too much of himself.
The door opened and Gaylon entered, his shoulders drooping, looking much older than the last time Zeke had seen him. “Mornin’, Gaylon,” the trapper called.
Gaylon stared. “Who are you?”
“You ’member me, Zeke Hawkins. I brung you some furs.”
“Hmph!” The old man hardly looked at the furs.
“What’s the matter around here?” Zeke asked. “Where’s Mac and where’s that old man used to sit by the fire all the time?”
Gaylon looked up in surprise. “You ain’t been here in a while. Things is different now. Now we got a devil runnin’ the Macalister store. Don’t allow nothin’ but work.” He spat a healthy black wad of tobacco juice on the floor.
The door burst open, and Mac entered the store in a rush. Zeke gasped at the sight of him. He’d lost a lot of weight, his eyes were sunken as if he hadn’t slept in days, and his hair and clothes were dirty. “Mac.” Zeke stepped forward, his hand extended. “It’s been a long time.”
The tall, dark young man ignored him and went to the counter. “You bring these furs?”
“Yes,” Zeke answered hesitantly.
Mac turned to Gaylon. “How come you ain’t got ’em counted yet?”
Gaylon spat again, the juice barely missing Mac’s foot. “Ain’t had time. You so all-fired in a hurry, you do it. I got other things to do.”
“I’m sure they’re real important,” Mac snarled as Gaylon slammed the door.
Zeke moved away from the counter. Whatever had happened to Mac in the last two years, he certainly didn’t like. “Mind if I stay around here for a few days?”
“Do what you like,” the dark man answered. “I got no claim on you.”
“I know.” Zeke tried to sound pleasant.
The door opened, and a tall, big-boned woman entered.
“What do you want, Agnes?” Mac snapped.
“None of your bad temper, I can tell you,” the woman returned. “I come over to look at the cloth that just come in.”
“You know where it is,” he said disinterestedly.
Agnes ignored him and then saw the trapper. “Why, Mr. Hawkins! We haven’t seen you in Sweetbriar in a long time.”
He removed his fur cap and smiled. “I’m pleased you remember me. I been farther north, around Spring Lick for a while now, near two years.”
“Spring Lick? Ain’t that where they’re doin’ all that talk about Kentucky bein’ made a state?”
“Some of it’s goin’ on there. They got a man there name of Squire Talbot what thinks he’s gonna be the first governor.”
“Governor! You hear that, Mac? Kentucky’s gonna have its own governor.”
Mac ignored her.
“Well, Mr. Hawkins—”
“Zeke.”
She smiled. “Zeke, I sure would like to hear all your news. Why don’t you come to my house for supper?”
Zeke grinned. “That’s the best offer I’ve had in months. I sure miss a woman’s c
ookin’. In fact, that’s somethin’ like what I was just gonna ask Mac ’fore you come in.”
Mac lifted his head. “I don’t run no free kitchen for ever’ trapper comes through here.”
“No, it’s not that, it’s my rheumatism. These spring rains bring it on worse and worse, and sleepin’ on the ground don’t help it none.”
Mac slammed the ledger shut. “You’re welcome to sleep on the floor here anytime.”
“I wouldn’t want to put you out none, but when I was ridin’ in, I saw an empty cabin in the clearin’ and I wondered if’n I might stay there.”
“No!” Mac fairly shouted.
Zeke looked in puzzlement to Agnes, and she glared at Mac. “I’m afraid we’re keepin’ that cabin like it is so we can all remember some people’s ignorance,” she said.
Mac returned her stare. “You find what you need, Agnes? I got other things to do than stand around here all day.”
Zeke stepped between the two people. “Look, I didn’t mean to start nothin’. I know ever’body was right fond of that little lady who used to live there, but since she ain’t comin’ back, I thought—”
Agnes whirled on him. “What makes you so sure she ain’t comin’ back?”
“Well, ’cause I seen her.” Zeke felt like a bolt of lightning couldn’t have affected the two people more.
Agnes recovered first. “Where’d you see her?” she asked quietly.
Zeke looked away from the staring Mac. “She’s been livin’ in Spring Lick for over a year now. Come out on a wagon with some missionaries last spring, about this time, I guess. She’s the schoolteacher at Spring Lick.” Zeke chuckled. “She may be little but she’s sure got them kids under her thumb. I seen her out playin’ with ’em many a time but as soon as she tells ’em to get back inside the schoolhouse, they go and, funny thing is, about half of them kids is bigger’n her.”
Agnes laughed. “That’s Linnet all right. She’s sure got a way about her. But why’s she in Spring Lick? She left here to go to Boston or some such place.”