Dorothy Garlock - [Wabash River] (30 page)

Later, when the three women were alone, Liberty stripped and washed the river mud from her body and hair. She was sore, but some of it was from the work in the garden, she reasoned. Amy had brought in a nightdress from the chest in the wagon where she was keeping her clothes, but Liberty sent her back for a dress and clean pantalets. She didn’t intend to spend the rest of the day in bed being waited on. Willa had washed the mud from her shoes and set them beside the hearth to dry, so she put on a pair of Jubal’s heavy stockings.

“Farr wanted you to stay in bed. He likes you a lot, Libby.” Amy dropped Liberty’s muddy clothes down in the bucket they had used to wash her hair. “Phew! That slimy old river mud stinks.”

“He was concerned.” Liberty fervently wished that what her sister said was true.

“It was more than that. You’re his
wife,
for goodness sake! When I told him, he took off like a . . . scalded cat.”

Willa giggled. “When did you ever see a scalded cat?”

“She’s never seen one.” Liberty talked without knowing what she was saying. The thought that perhaps Farr was fond of her sent her pulse skittering. “She was probably looking to see where Rain was and didn’t even see Farr leave.” She was toweling her hair and pushed it back out of her face so she could see her sister’s.

“I wasn’t any such thing,” Amy protested heatedly, but she grinned saucily at Liberty and tossed the hair back over her shoulder. She had been primping more of late, Liberty observed, leaving her hair loose and trying to act more grown up.

“I suppose you didn’t even know he was there,” Willa teased.

“Of course I knew he was there, just like you know every time Colby comes near.” Amy stood with her hands on her hips, smiling at Willa’s red face. “I got you that time, Willa.”

Amy, more than anyone, had been able to break through Willa’s shyness, and the two girls had a real affection for each other. When the women were alone Willa was as open and talkative as any young girl her age, but when the men came in she found it difficult to enter the conversation. Not so Amy. She did enough talking for all of them.

Liberty sat in the rocking chair, her hair spread in a shining mass over her shoulders. For the first time in many years she felt as if she were home and among people who cared for her. Her eyes rested on the pine cupboard, the neatly made bunks, the table with the cloth spread over the necessaries in the center. One of Farr’s buckskin shirts hung from a peg on the wall, and Juicy’s pipe and tobacco were on the mantle next to the clock. This was where she wanted to spend the rest of her life, and maybe someday she and Farr—

She tried not to think that Farr’s concern for her was any greater than he would have had for anyone. Although when he was carrying her, she had the feeling that it was lovingly and that he had held her closer to him than necessary. But no, she reasoned. She was tired and weepy and imagining it.

Evening came. The men didn’t come up from the sawyer camp until almost dark, and supper was eaten by candlelight. As soon as Farr came in he asked Liberty how she was feeling, then sat quietly and listened while Colby teased her about being a silver fish.

“I’ve never known a woman who could swim.”

“Why shouldn’t a woman swim?” Liberty countered in a hoarse voice. “I think everyone should know how. You never know when you’ll be thrown out of a boat or have to cross a river. My mother learned when she was a little girl, and she could outswim her brothers.”

“Did she teach you?”

“No. My uncle did when I was very young. I grew up not being afraid of the water.”

“It was lucky for Tecumapese that you did.”

“You should have sent Amy for me,” Farr said. “The river is treacherous when it’s high.”

“There was no time,” Liberty said simply.

“Is the baby all right?” Amy looked directly across the table at Rain.

There was silence. Everyone waited for Rain to speak, but he continued to eat and ignored the question.

“Well, are you going to tell us or are you going to wait till you fill your hollow legs?” Colby asked and forked a piece of meat from the platter onto his plate.

“Tell you what?”

“If the baby is all right, and what did Sugar Tree say about Tecumseh’s sister?”

“I guess the baby’s all right, and she told Mr. Washington to go kill a chicken.” Rain continued to eat, his eyes on his plate.

“Why did she tell him to kill a chicken?” Amy asked.

“To put on Tecumapese’s foot.” Rain glared across the table with a disgusted look on his face.

“What for?”

“To draw out the poison.” Rain spoke as if he couldn’t believe she didn’t know why a dead chicken was put on a sore foot.

“How was I to know? Smarty.”

“Humpt!” Juicy cleared his throat loudly. “If’n the squaw’s Tecumapese, she be Tecumseh’s favorite sister. How are ya agoin’ to get her up to Prophetstown, Farr?”

“I’m taking her,” Rain said before Farr could speak. “I told her we’d go as soon as she can ride.”

“I think you should take her, Rain. John Spotted Elk is there by now. You’ve been wanting to see him.” Farr looked at young Rain and thought that with the training John had given him, he was as capable as any man he knew.

“Who’s John Spotted Elk?” Amy was not to be put off by a shake of Liberty’s head.

“He’s a Shawnee who raised Rain.” Farr spoke when he saw that Rain wasn’t going to.

Rain lifted his dark eyes to Amy’s. They were as cold as ice. “An
Indian.
A greasy, dirty, good-for-nothing redskin who has the gall to want to keep his own land.” He spoke bitterly, and afterward there was a sudden quiet.

“Humpt! Now, take me,” Juicy said matter-of-factly, “I ain’t got me no use a’tall fer them triplet brothers of Tecumseh’s. They ain’t worth the powder to blow ’em up, but I’d stake my life on Tecumseh’s word, if’n he give it.”

“I’m not askin’ for any favors.” Rain spoke in the same bitter tone and looked from one man to the other.

“We don’t expect you to.” Farr sat back and eyed his young friend, then stood. “Tecumseh will do what he thinks will help his cause despite any friendship with us, and we’ll do the same. He’ll expect us to. When you’re finished, Rain, come into the storeroom. There are a few things I’d like to send to John.”

The other men soon followed Farr into the storeroom, and the women began their nightly routine. Amy washed the children and got them ready for bed while Willa and Liberty cleaned up after the meal. Willa had taken over the milking and churned in the evening while Liberty set a pan of bread to rise. Between the three of them the work went fast.

As the time to retire drew nearer Liberty began to feel a little fluttering sensation in her stomach. Today a closer bond had been forged between her and Farr and she wanted to be alone so she could think about it.

The far-off twinkling stars were the only light in the sky when Liberty stepped out of the cabin and went to the wagon. These last days of May were warm, but the night breeze was cool. She shivered, crawled into the wagon, took her nightdress from the chest and fumbled with the buttons on her dress. She undressed hurriedly, then removed the pins from her hair and ran her fingers through the heavy masses. She usually brushed it before she went to bed, but tonight she had left her hairbrush in the cabin.

She snuggled down into the thick straw pallet and pulled the blanket up over her. She turned on her side and stared into a darkness no more confusing than her own thoughts.
Farr.
Farr saying that he liked carrying her. Farr telling her they would be home soon. Farr taking off her shoes. It was strange, she thought painfully, that she hadn’t realized how lonely she had been until she met Farr. But how could she have missed what she didn’t know? A few short weeks ago she had not known such a man as Farr existed. Now he was woven into the fabric of her life, making her aware of his every move, making her love him. Her mind stumbled over the word.
Love.
What did she know of loving a man? Did thinking of him during every waking moment mean she loved him?
Farr. Farr. Farr.
Tears of frustrtion and confusion trickled down from between her closed eyelids.

She awakened suddenly.

“Libby? Are you all right?”

“Farr . . .” Drowsy with sleep, his name came softly from her lips even as her hands reached for him.

“You called out. Were you dreaming?”

She remembered now. The dream had been lovely. Farr was kissing her. His lips were warm as they explored her mouth, her eyes, her throat. He was holding her, whispering loving words. The dream was so deeply real she didn’t hesitate to reach for him now. Her hand came to rest at the back of his neck and then his arms, gentle but firm, closed around her.

“Libby?” Her arm tightened about his neck and he buried his face in her hair. “Oh, God, every night has been torture! I’ve wanted to reach for you, hold you and kiss you for days.” His voice was choked with the harsh sound of desire.

“Hold me. Kiss me, Farr . . .” A flood of sweet tenderness washed over her and she turned her face up to him, longing to kiss his lips with a sweet, lingering softness.

His lips covered hers and he murmured between kisses, “I want to hold you . . . I need your softness, your woman smell, your . . . warm hands on me. Libby, Libby, it’s been so long, so lonely.”

His mouth was sweet, his breath as cool as mint, his cheeks pleasantly rough against her face. His warm lips, at first tentative, became more demanding, and his long fingers entwined in her tousled hair to hold her to him. His mouth parted her lips, desperate in a search for fulfillment, and she clung to him, bonelessly melting into his hard body. Her skin tingled. Something deep within her stirred, bringing an ache to the nether regions between her legs. The kiss lasted endlessly as if they each found it impossible to end it. She moved restlessly closer to him, a hunger gnawing at her relentlessly.

So this was what it was like to kiss the man she loved! It was wonderful, she thought. The taste of him, the smell of him, the feel of him. She wanted to pull him inside her and keep him there forever.

His lips trailed down the side of her face to her throat. His heart was pounding violently against her soft breasts. He hadn’t meant for this to happen tonight. She was tired and sore after her ordeal in the river. but when she turned to him and touched him he hadn’t been able to help himself. Even as he was kissing her, a small voice in his head had told him to stop . . . that he would hurt her.

“Libby . . . I’ve got to know. I want you, but not unless you want me too. Do you . . . want me to leave you?” he whispered against her ear.

“Oh, please! Don’t leave me, now!” Whatever came, this night was hers. The thought that followed her words was so tangible in her mind that she didn’t know or care if she had voiced it. “Hold me, Farr. Hold me as if . . . you love me, just for tonight.”

His kisses came upon her mouth, warm, devouring, fierce with passion. Liberty closed her eyes as the bliss of his kisses swept her every nerve with intense pleasure. She heard his harsh breathing in her ear, the hoarsely whispered words of how he had longed to reach for her. She murmured that she had wanted him, had waited for him. He trembled violently and groaned a muted, strangled, incoherent sound. Yes, she wanted this! She wanted to give herself completely. This was more wonderful, more frightening than anything she had ever imagined mating with a lover would be.

She felt briefly alone and lonely when he left her to slip out of his buckskins, but soon he was back under the blanket with her, bare and warm and pulling her into every curve of his body. Her arms went up to hold him closer as he leaned over her, her body strained against his. He covered her face with quick kisses, releasing his pent-up desire with each touch of his lips. He drew back as if trying to see her face.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No! No, sweet man. It’s what I want.” Liberty placed her palms on each side of his face and gazed at him with the soft light of love in her eyes. “Tell me.” she whispered softly, “tell me what you want.”

“Take off the gown,” he breathed against her lips. “Come to me, all warm and soft and naked as the day you were born.”

“Yes, love. Anything . . . for you. . . .”

His hands gently but insistently tugged the gown up and over her head. When she was free of it. he sank down against her, the hard nipples on her firm breasts snuggling into the hair on his chest, her soft flat belly against the hardness of his, the down between her legs pressed firmly to his aching, throbbing, elongated sex.

“Ah . . . you feel so good, so smooth, so soft.”

Her lips moved along his cheek to find the corner of his mouth. He wanted to talk to her, but his lips could not seem to leave hers. He wanted to tell her how glad he was that she had come to his station, how pleased he was to have her for his wife. He wanted her to know that each night he had lain awake wanting her but was afraid she would receive him coldly, as if it were a duty. He wanted to say she was setting him on fire with desire for her, and he wanted to sleep with her in his arms every night for the rest of his life. But there was such a frenzied singing in his blood that grew so rapidly that the words beat against his brain and he never uttered them.

He rolled her on her back and pinned her with the length of his long body. Her head was caught in the crook of his arm and she couldn’t move—not that she wanted to be anywhere but where she was. The part of him that throbbed so aggressively against her soft down was large and strong like the rest of him. It was all so sweet, so right, so natural. Her inexperienced hands stroked his furry chest, slid along muscles that quivered at her touch and down to his taut buttocks. Involuntarily his pelvis flexed as her hands moved over his hipbones, and she felt his sharp intake of breath. He moved his head down to kiss her breast and to worry her nipples with his lips; his breathing came fast and irregularly; his heart thudded above her.

“Little sweet woman . . .” It was as if he couldn’t bear to linger another instant. He spread her thighs and lifted himself above her. She felt him large, hot and hard, pushing to slide into the warm cavern of her body. She became aware of a slow, gradual filling of that aching emptiness. He paused at the barrier that guarded her virginity, breathing raggedly. Then Liberty, afraid he would go no farther, pushed upward, seeking more of that glorious feeling. A sudden movement of his hips brought a pain-pleasure so intense that she cried out. “I had to . . . sweet little thing,” he whispered raggedly. “I didn’t know—”