| |
Thud! Whack! Thud! Whack!
Michelle rolled over and focused on a rough beam in the ceiling. Her body felt heavy, as if she had been sleeping for days.
Thud! Whack!
What was that? She pulled on her boots and winced as she hobbled to the door. Her ankle was still tender from last night.
She stepped outside and squinted in the bright sun. Luther stood in the center of the yard, clutching an ax in one hand. He set a piece of wood on a stump and brought the ax down hard. Whack. The split log fell to the ground with a thud.
Luther bent to pick up the wood. “You sleep all right?” he asked, wiping sweat off his brow with the back of his hand.
“Yes. I was exhausted. I wasn’t able to get much rest on the coach. What time is it?”
He glanced at the sky. “About eleven.”
“Eleven? I slept so long? How do you know what time it is? You don’t have a clock.”
“I know by the sun.”
“Don’t you need a sundial for that?”
“I wouldn’t know what to do with one of those,” Luther replied, then set up another piece of wood.
Michelle bit her bottom lip. Luther’s voice had a hard edge to it. She could tell he was still angry about last night.
“I’ll be finished in a few minutes, then I’ll put your trunks on the cart.” Luther swung the ax down. Whack. Thud. He kicked the split pieces aside and placed another chunk of wood on the stump.
“What for?”
Luther paused with the ax held in mid-stroke over his shoulder. His green eyes locked onto hers. “To take you back to town.”
She limped closer to him. “Town?”
“Yeah, town. Where you wanted to go last night. I thought about this for most of the night and part of this morning. I’m sorry this didn’t work out between us. I know I’m not good enough for you. Hell, you knew it right off without even giving me a chance.”
Luther shrugged. “A delicate woman like you belongs in a fancy house and not held prisoner in a filthy shack on top of a mountain. This was a big mistake.” Luther sank the ax into the stump and wiped his hands on his buckskin pants. “I’ll let you decide what you want to do now. If you’d rather live in town, Jed’s all alone. He’d take ya.”
“Jed? The fat man from the store? He’s horrible. You don’t know how he leered at me when I went in there.”
“I can imagine,” Luther said, then headed toward the cabin.
“Luther, wait.” She limped across the yard after him. Luther wasn’t serious, was he? He wouldn’t turn her over to that lecherous beast, would he? If he did, she knew what would happen to her.
“I thought about things, too,” she said. “Please forgive me for how I acted. I was upset.”
After Luther had fallen asleep in front of the fire, she had crawled into bed and lay awake, thinking. Luther had been good to her. What harm could come from pretending to be his wife for a week or two? She could rest up and decide what to do about heading west.
“I’m sorry about last night. I thought you were going to... do things.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I was scared,” she admitted in a low whisper.
He turned to her. “I told you I wasn’t gonna mess with you. There was no reason to act like a madwoman and run off.”
“How could I believe you? You wanted to get in bed with me. We’re supposed to be husband and wife. I know what that means. I know men have... urges. I’ve never...” She shook her head. “This is all new to me. I’ve never been in bed with a man in my life. How could I trust you wouldn’t force me? I just met you.”
“Because I gave you my word, and I told you I don’t lie, that’s how. I know we’re strangers, and living here isn’t what you expected, but I promise I won’t hurt you.” He frowned. “You know, I only go into town once every few months. You were damn lucky you caught me yesterday. If you hadn’t...”
He shrugged, then continued. “Well, who knows what mighta happened to you. I’ll take you back to town if you wanna go, Michelle, but if I do, we’re done. Or you can live with me for the next month or so and try to work this out. It’s your choice.”
She touched Luther’s tanned, muscular forearm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to expect. I don’t want to go back to town. I want to stay with you. Can we start over?”
“Fine, but I don’t wanna hear any more nonsense about runnin’ off.” Luther walked behind the cabin and she trailed after him. “I got chores to do, but first I’ll fetch your bath water. I already emptied out the tub.”
“Even though you thought I’d leave? You still cleaned it out for me?”
“I said I would. I keep my word.” He picked a metal washtub off the ground and carried it around the cabin.
After the way she had acted last night, she was surprised that Luther was being considerate. No other man had ever gone out of his way for her before, and that went double for Roger. After being on the run for so long, it was hard to trust anyone. Guilt washed over her, and she felt a pang of sadness for the way she had treated Luther. How could she make it up to him?
“Thank you, Luther. It’s awful nice of you,” she said in her sweetest voice.
“You’re my wife. It’s my job to take care of you. Don’t worry about me peekin’. I’ll be out here splitting wood. I won’t come in until you open the door.”
* * *
MICHELLE SAT IN THE three-foot metal washtub with her knees bent close to her chest. It had been two weeks since her last bath. The water was hot, a little too hot, but it made her ankle feel better. She let the steaming water soak off the layers of grease and sweat coating her skin, then washed with the last piece of lavender-scented soap she had brought from home.
Home. Despite everything she had been through, she would rather die than go home. Maybe everyone in Kingston already thought she was dead. How long would Roger keep looking for her? A year? Five?
She got out of the tub and wrapped herself in a thin, scratchy towel. The chilly air felt sinfully refreshing against her skin, and her nipples perked to attention. She knelt in front of the tub and let down her hair. She wanted to wash it in clean water, but that would require calling in Luther to empty the tub. It might be best to leave him alone for a while. He still seemed annoyed with her. She’d heard the rhythmic sound of the ax chopping through wood for most of her bath.
Her mind wandered as she washed her hair. Did her parents miss her or worry about her? What would they think if they could see her now, living in the wilderness and “married” to Luther?
Her impending marriage to Roger had been a pre-arranged business deal, a farce. She chuckled. It was almost like this “marriage” to Luther. Neither had a chance of surviving, but despite his rugged and wild lifestyle, Luther treated her much better than “civilized” Roger did.
Whenever she was with Roger, he told her when she could speak, what to eat, what to wear, and where she could and couldn’t go. He controlled every move she made, and if she disobeyed, she was punished. She pushed the memories of Roger and her old life aside. It was best not to dwell on it. Remembering the past only upset her.
Michelle dried off and dressed in the last of her clean clothes. She tried to smooth her wrinkled gray skirt and crumpled pink and white gingham top. At home, she wouldn’t have left the house looking like this. But it was ridiculous to worry about her appearance here. Who would see her? She left her wet hair loose and opened the cabin door.
Luther was sitting on the stump in the yard, whittling a piece of wood. “All finished?”
“Yes. I’d like to hang up the towel to dry.”
“I strung a line out back. I’ll show ya.” Luther stood. “Then we’ll take a walk.”
“Walk?” She fingered her hair, uncertain. “My head’s wet. I shouldn’t be outside. I need my bonnet.”
“Don’t cover up your hair. It’s such a pretty color. It’ll dry faster if you let the sun get to it. Besides, I wanna show you the rest of the place.”
“There’s more?”
Luther took the wet towel from her as they walked behind the cabin. He hung the towel over a rope stretched between two trees. “I want you to see for yourself if you like it here. There’s no use tryin’ to force things on you. I ain’t that type,” he said as he sauntered down a path leading into the woods.
She hiked behind Luther along a dirt trail. He seemed to be in a better mood now. Maybe they could start over and put their argument behind them.
“You know anything about wild animals?”
“No.”
“You’ll learn. For now, you see any kinda critter out here in these woods, you know what to do?”
“Run?”
“Hell no, you don’t run. Runnin’ up here will get ya hurt or killed quicker than anything. Didn’t you learn that last night?” He frowned. “You stay still, real still, and don’t move. Something might sniff at you, but it will generally pass. Running’s gonna make whatever it is chase ya. It’ll think you’re food and fun to catch.”
Luther swept his long black hair behind his shoulders. “And never, ever, run from a bear. They gallop faster than horses and they like to chase things before they eat ’em.” He resumed walking. “We’ll go to the ridge. You can see the whole mountain from there.”
She followed Luther as he veered off into the woods. He held a low branch aside so she could pass under it. “Your ankle bothering you?”
“No, it’s better. Thanks for being concerned.” The trees here were denser and closer together. Budding branches hung in her face, and she ducked under them while trying to keep her skirts from getting tangled in the brush. Luther halted abruptly, and she bumped against his wide back. A tingle zapped up her spine, and her pulse flared.
Luther bent his head close to hers. “You the type to scream, or are you a sensible woman?” he whispered as he stared into the clearing.
“Why?” She craned her neck and tried to see what had captured Luther’s attention. The only thing she saw were tree branches.
Luther wrapped his arm around her waist and rested his other hand on her shoulder. She flinched under his touch, then relaxed as a gentle heat spread through her lower body.
“I ain’t gettin’ fresh. Look.” Luther made a high-pitched bird noise, and the tree boughs fifteen feet away shifted. He whistled again. The “branches” rose ten feet in the air followed by a massive head, a thick brown body, and long legs.
She took a breath to scream, and Luther clamped his hand over her mouth. “Shh, he’s harmless. He’ll move on. We disturbed his nap, that’s all. He’ll leave in a minute.” As if the beast understood, it pushed its way through the thicket and vanished into the woods.
Luther uncovered her mouth. “Come on.” He clasped her hand as they continued walking.
She looked back to see where the creature had been sleeping. What if she had stumbled on that thing last night? Her knees trembled, and she squeezed Luther’s hand harder. Holding onto him gave her a feeling of safety and security. His wide, rough hand felt comforting. He didn’t crush her palm, or drag her behind him, like Roger used to.
After several minutes, Luther stopped and released her hand. “I bet they don’t have them back east,” he said as he leaned against a maple tree.
“I’ve never seen anything like that before. What was it?”
“A moose.”
“It was huge.”
“Medium-sized for a male. Don’t worry, we won’t run into him again. You feel up to walking more?”
“Yes. It’s nice out here.”
Luther led her through the trees to where three flat rocks sloped downward to a cliff edge. He hopped onto one of the giant rocks and walked to the farthest edge.
She watched him stroll along the cliff. For all his good qualities, Luther had peculiar habits and acted a bit strange. “What are you doing?”
“A friend of mine leaves messages here. I leave some back.”
“Oh.” She didn’t ask for details. What sort of friends did Luther have in the woods?
Michelle wiped dirt off the rock closest to the trail and sat on the warm stone. She kept her feet planted on the ground. The last thing she wanted was to start sliding toward the cliff.
Luther lay down on a rock close to the edge of the drop. He lay stretched out ten feet from the edge of a mountain and didn’t seem to care. “Aren’t you afraid to fall?” she asked.
“Nope.” He folded his arms behind his head. “No need to be afraid up here as long as you’re careful. You start running off like a fool, then you got reason to concern yourself.” He chuckled. “Besides, falling don’t hurt. Landing does.”
Michelle laughed and relaxed as the sun warmed her face. She fluffed her hair with her hands and listened to the birds chirping in the trees. After two weeks on the stagecoach breathing in nothing but dust and dirt, it felt good to sit in the sun. At home, she used to go to the park every afternoon and read. Were the yellow tulips and pink hyacinths blooming in her garden now?
She heard Luther shift and glanced at him. He was watching her. “You still scared?”
“The moose won’t follow us, will it?”
“Nah.” Luther propped himself onto his elbows. “They don’t bother folks much unless you mess with ’em in rutting season, or get near their babies.” Luther picked up a stick and broke it into pieces.
“What’s rutting season?”
Luther smirked. “Mating. We’ll be coming into that in another month or so. Animals act funny. You’ll see.”
“Are there really bears and wolves here, or did you say that to scare me last night?”
Luther arched an eyebrow. “I told ya, I don’t lie. Sure are bears, foxes, wolves, coyotes, and bobcats. Snakes, too. I don’t suppose you ever fired a gun?”
“No. But I saw one up close once.” The memory of Roger pointing his silver pistol at her flashed in front of her eyes.
“One day I’ll show you how to use my shotgun. It could come in handy.”
She nodded. Luther seemed like he wanted to talk, so she braved another question. “How do you get money to buy things in town? Where do you work?”
“You don’t know?”
She shook her head, afraid to admit she knew nothing at all about him.
“I’m a trapper and a trader. See this?” He gestured at his sleeve. “I made this myself, bagged the doe, tanned the hide, and made the breeches, moccasins, everything. That bed you slept in last night, I made that in autumn and carved it most of the winter. Was it comfortable enough for ya?”
“Yes.” She smiled. “It felt good to stretch out in a real bed after being on the coach for so long.”
“Goose and duck feathers and straw. Same for the pillows.”
A breeze blew a lock of hair in front of her eyes and she brushed it away. “Were you making something by the fire last night? I’ve never seen a man sew before. It’s supposed to be woman’s work.”
Luther laughed. “If I had to wait for a woman to take care of me, I’d have been long dead by now. Woman’s work,” he scoffed. “Ain’t no such thing as far as I’m concerned. Work’s gotta get done, and it doesn’t matter if it’s done by a man or a woman. You know how to sew?”
“Yes, but I’m terrible at it. Everything comes out crooked. I tried to make a dress once, but it was hopeless. I’m a good cook, though,” she added.
“Well, different folks do different things better. I’ll give you sewing lessons if you want.” Luther rose and walked to the edge of the rock. “Wanna see over the cliff? You’re missing half the mountain sitting there.”
She stood and smoothed her skirt. “I suppose.”
Luther stepped to her side and held her hand. A tingling feeling flooded over her, and her heart beat faster as Luther guided her out onto the rocks.
A minute later, Luther looked into her eyes. “Will you answer a question for me?”
She met Luther’s gaze. Every so often, she got the feeling that he could see into her soul and he knew what she was thinking. “What would you like to know?”
“Tell me, Michelle, the truth now. How old are you?”
“How old do you think I am?” Still gripping Luther’s hand, she moved out to the middle rock. Her heart fluttered as they inched onto the stone closest to the cliff’s edge.
“I’m not sure, that’s why I’m asking.”
“Seventeen.”
“I do believe I asked for the truth.” He smirked. “I know you ain’t seventeen.”
She squared her shoulders. “How so?”
“If you were seventeen, you wouldn’t be all the way out in Michigan Territory as a stranger’s mail-order bride. You’d be back east married proper.” Luther licked his lips. “Besides, you’ve got more smarts than a seventeen-year-old, especially for a woman.”
She peered down. They stood on the edge of the steep-sloping rock. It dropped off and met the sky. A half-dead tree clung to the precipice. Its roots were exposed and stuck out of eroded patches of soil. Now was not the time to argue with Luther.
“I’m nineteen.” It was only a small lie.
“You sure?”
She peeked at Luther out of the corner of her eye. “Yes.”
“Ever been married before?”
“Of course not.” She tensed and eyed the cliff. The drop was steep and dangerous.
“Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna let ya get too close.” Luther wrapped his arm around her waist. “If you ever went off the edge, that’d be the end of you. But I’d never let you fall.”
She found herself relaxing in Luther’s grip. His thick forearm sent a warm, prickling heat through her. After a minute, she decided to ask a question that had been on her mind all day. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-six.”
“You seem older.”
“I do? Well, I guess living in the woods’ll do that to you.”
“No, I don’t mean you look older, I mean you act older. Something is different about you. You’re not like other men. You know things most people don’t.”
Luther smiled. “Well, Miss Me-chelle, I believe I’ll take that as a compliment. Look at the view, ain’t it pretty?”
The entire valley lay beneath them. There were no trees above, only sky and sun. From up here, it seemed like she stood on the top of the world. The scenery took her breath away. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful and untamed before.”
“It’s better at sunset in the summer,” Luther replied. “If I could paint pictures, I’d paint this one so I could remember it forever.”
Michelle stared out at the valley and settled against Luther’s chest. “I see why you come here. It’s peaceful.”
She liked the fact that Luther admired the beauty of nature. He had a soft spot for the outdoors and obviously appreciated being outside more than Roger ever did. Roger never wanted to be outside for long. It was always too hot, too cold, too rainy, or too sunny.
Luther readjusted his grip on her waist. Right now, she didn’t mind that he held her, in fact, it felt comforting. Long ago, she had learned that men had two ways of touching. The gentlemanly way of taking a woman’s hand as she got out of a carriage, and the harsh way they could hurt and bruise. Her instincts told her Luther was trustworthy. If she was standing here with Roger, she’d be terrified of getting thrown over the cliff.
“See that?” Luther pointed to a bird floating high in the clear blue sky. “It’s an eagle. Ever seen one before?”
Michelle quivered as Luther’s hot breath tickled the side of her neck. She glanced at the bird and then at Luther. He was staring at her again.
Luther cleared his throat. “There’s all kinds of birds here. I guess we’d better head home.” He released her. “I wanna show you the garden, smokehouse, and other things. We can come back tomorrow if you want. Maybe bring something to eat.”
“That’d be nice.”
“Good. I expect we’ll have a visitor soon. This week or next. Come on, I’ll show you the way home,” Luther said as he led her down the path.
Her mind whirled as she followed him. For a moment, she thought Luther was going to kiss her. She had tried to act casual about it, and pretend that she hadn’t noticed, but then Luther had pulled away.
Would he have kissed her? Had standing close to her with his hand on her waist given him lusty ideas? She bit her bottom lip. They barely knew each other, and yet, they were supposed to be man and wife. Would Luther want to kiss her later? What would she do if he tried?
* * *
LUTHER STUDIED MICHELLE as she ate the rabbit dinner he had prepared for them. No matter how many times he told himself this wasn’t a dream, he still couldn’t believe Michelle was his wife.
He’d been leery about taking a risk with a mail-order bride. Who knew what might happen? He could have gotten a fat old widow, an immigrant who didn’t speak English, or, like Redfeather had warned him, Jed might have stolen his money and never mailed in the papers. But this time, the spirits had been with him, and his luck had held.
“Did you like the walk we took today?”
“Yes. The ridge is nice. You can see for miles.”
He watched Michelle brush her golden hair away from her face as she ate a spoonful of rice. Her large, round eyes were a beautiful dark brown fringed with long lashes, and her hair was the color of sunfired straw. He couldn’t help but notice her cheeks had gotten pink today.
“Good. I want you to like it here. I know it’s a lot different from where you came from.”
He drew a heart shape in the uneaten rice on his plate. Although they’d had trouble last night, Michelle seemed calmer today. He was glad she had apologized for what she had said. Either she trusted him now, or the thought of going to Jed was too much for her to bear. In all honesty, he never had any intention of turning this pretty young lady over to that monster.
He sipped his coffee. After giving it some thought, he realized that he had rushed things with her yesterday. He had naturally assumed that Michelle would accept and trust him. But they were strangers, and he needed to remember that dealing with decent women took time.
“You’ll get used to things out here. It’ll take a while, but I’ll teach you everything you need to know,” he said, leaning back in the chair.
Michelle had been right to be cautious. Why should she trust that he wouldn’t throw her down and ravage her? Most men would have taken their marital right before nightfall, and by force if necessary.
But touching her wasn’t too far from his thoughts. When they stood looking out over the cliff today, he had been tempted to kiss her. It had been ages since he’d lain with a woman, and just thinking about kissing Michelle got him riled up. What would happen when they were in bed tonight?
If he tried to kiss her, would she let him, or put up a fight? He knew she was a virgin, but had she ever been kissed before?
“I hope so. I’m not sure how to be a wife. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
He grinned. In time, he’d show her exactly what wives did for their husbands, but he had a more immediate problem. He wasn’t going to sleep on the floor again. Would Michelle get into bed and trust him not to touch her? Then again, did he trust himself not to touch her?
He caught her staring at him. How long had she been watching him? “What?”
“Nothing.”
He smirked. She had been thinking something. Deep water, this one. “I was wondering, you got any breeches in those trunks of yours?” He gestured at the unopened cases in the corner.
“Breeches? You might as well ask me how many times I’ve been to the moon. Men wear breeches, not women. It’s absurd.”
“Not if it’s cold out and a lady doesn’t want an unpleasant draft.” He said it to shock her. He liked to tease her to see how far he should go.
“Luther!”
He laughed. “I might make you a pair to wear when we’re in the woods. Then you won’t have to worry about keeping your skirts off the ground and tripping you. I noticed it was a concern of yours today.”
“I’ve never worn a pair of breeches. Where I’m from, it’s unheard of.”
“And where’s that place again?”
“Back east.”
“You know Michelle, you never told me exactly where that is.”
She sipped her coffee and shrugged.
He interpreted her silence as a warning to back off. “Well, I won’t press.” It had been a good day, and Michelle seemed happy. He didn’t want to set her off on another fit. “I’m gonna crawl into bed.”
“But—”
“But nothing. I’m tired. I was chopping and stacking wood all day.” He carried his plate to the fireplace and dumped his uneaten food back into the cooking pot. “It’s my bed. I’m sleeping in it.”
He leaned against the mantle and prayed this wouldn’t turn into a full-fledged screaming fight. “I won’t bother you, if that’s what you’re thinking. If you don’t trust me, then you can try the floor for the night.”
“The floor?”
He walked to the shelves. “Yeah, the floor, where you stuck me last night. Tomorrow I’ll start you on some chores, and you can help me out around here.” He took a bottle off the bottom shelf and poured himself half a glass of whiskey.
“But I’m not tired now.”
He gulped the drink to quell the fires surging through his lower body. What would he dream of tonight? Holding Michelle in his arms? Kissing her? Touching her? He shoved the wicked thoughts away. “Then find something to do. I got cards and a few books. You can unpack your trunks if you want.”
“You’re not going to sew?”
“Not tonight.” He crossed to the bed and yanked off his boots and socks, then slipped under the blankets. “Good night,” he said as he closed his eyes.
What seemed like seconds later, he was woken by a shrill scream.
