Frontier Gift of Love (American Wilderness Series Romance Book 5) (22 page)

“Nothing would give me greater pleasure right now. But, there’s more
to this story than their pack of smooth lies.” He needed these two to find out what it was. He vowed to learn who sent these two, and why they were so desperate to get Sam to sign over his land. But now was not the time or place.

“Kelly, give your pistol to Jane, and then get Nicole and put her on the wagon seat with you,” William said.

Kelly promptly did as he asked, wrapping their daughter protectively in a blanket and snuggling Nicole in her arms.

After Jane held the weapon, he told her and Rory, “Keep your weapons on them while I tie ‘em up. Don’t hesitate to kill them if they make a move.”

He pulled some rope from his saddle bag and spent the next few minutes securely tying their hands behind the two men. Then he let the back gate to the wagon down and told them, “Get in.”

As soon as the two managed to squirm themselves into the back, William tied their feet together too.

“But what if we need to relieve ourselves?” Crowell asked.

“That’s exactly how they got Garvin to untie them. They said they needed to relieve themselves!” Jane declared as she rode up next to the back of the wagon.

“You will just have to wet yourselves,” William replied. “You already stink like a pair of skunks anyway.”

At that, Riley, who was still in the back of the wagon, growled, lifted his leg and sprinkled first one and then the other.

Dixon and Crowell both stared at the dog in disbelief.

Riley’s opinion of the two kidnappers made them all burst into laughter, despite the seriousness of the situation.

Chapter 21

S
houting woke Catherine from her rest. “Now what?” she said aloud. She sat up as quickly as she could manage and put her pregnancy-swollen feet into her house slippers. It was Sam’s voice. What was wrong? She opened the door to the bedroom and hurriedly made her way to the front room.

“Damn it!” Sam swore as he paced.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Wyllie,” Garvin said. “I wanted to tell you before the children came inside. They were scared witless. Martha wouldn’t even untie us because that man said he would kill her mother if she did.”

“Sorry? You four men not only let your prisoners escape, you let them steal Jane away! How could you be so irresponsible?” Sam demanded heatedly. “If she dies at their hands, I’ll....” He stopped speaking when Catherine entered the room.

“What’s happened to Jane?” Catherine asked, not believing what she’d just heard.

Artis, Mrs. Wrigley, and Miss Henk rushed in and stood by watching anxiously too.

“The prisoners have escaped and taken Jane hostage,” Sam answered, his voice hot. “Stephen and Bear went after them. Our four men brought the children back.”

The cook and the housekeeper both gasped and Artis stepped closer to Catherine and laid a hand on her arm.

“The children?” Catherine asked Garvin.

“They’re unharmed,” he answered. “Just cold and scared.”

Holding his undersized rifle in one hand, Little John opened the door and let Martha in. She carried her brother Samuel with some difficulty. Still crying, Polly followed Martha inside.

“Ye must be Martha,” Artis said. “I’m Bear’s new wife, Artis. Let me help ye and take yer brother. The lad looks heavy.”

Martha nodded but didn’t say anything.

Artis took Samuel from Martha and then both girls ran to Catherine’s outstretched arms and hugged her.

Catherine embraced them and kissed the tops of their heads as she held them close. She looked over at Little John, who stood nearby, and motioned him to her as well.

Artis sat down with baby Samuel in her lap. The rosy-cheeked little boy grabbed a fistful of her long wavy tresses with his chubby hands.

As Catherine hugged and kissed the girls and Little John, she couldn’t help but watch Samuel. He looked so sweet sitting there playing with Artis’ hair. Would she be able to hold her own son soon?
Please, God
.

Catherine returned her attention to the girls who still held onto her hands.

“They took my mother,” Polly cried, gazing up at Catherine with tear-filled eyes.

“That wicked man pointed a gun at her head,” Martha told Sam. “I was so frightened.”

“That bastard!” Sam swore. He stood there fuming while Miss Henk helped the children out of their coats, hats, and scarves. As she freed them of their heavy woolen coverings, he gave each of them a big hug.

Sam began to pace. Catherine could clearly see how troubled he was. Jane’s life was at risk. And so were Stephen and Bear’s. She could almost see Sam’s mind racing. He wanted to go with his men to help with Jane’s rescue. But he wouldn’t leave her no matter how hard she tried to persuade him to go.

“Warm yourselves by the fire children,” Mrs. Wrigley told them kindly. “Everything will be all right. We’ll have some warm milk and cookies for you in no time.”

The girls and Little John all sat down cross-legged on the rug near the fireplace. “She makes the best cookies,” Little John whispered to them.

Harry, Matthew, and James started bringing in the family’s belongings and quietly set everything near the front door. They tried to leave but then stopped abruptly at the sound of Sam’s heated voice.

“You three, over here,” Sam barked.

The three hands turned to face Sam, their faces apprehensive. Garvin had remained frozen in front of Sam, hat in hand, but he spoke up for the group. “Mr. Wyllie, I can’t express how sorry we all are. But Dixon fooled us, and then he stole the weapon and the next thing we knew Crowell had us all hogtied.”

“On second thought, let’s go outside,” Sam grumbled, and then stormed toward the door. The four men followed him onto the porch.

Catherine suspected Sam didn’t want the men to say anything in front of Martha and Polly that might scare the girls. His wrath would also likely make him prone to swearing.

After the men left, Catherine sat down in Sam’s chair which was closer to the children. “I am so sorry this happened girls. But if I know Stephen and Bear, they will soon return with your mother.”

“They better,” Martha said, her lip quivering and green eyes intense.

Catherine could see that the ten-year-old was more angry than afraid.

“They will,” Little John said.

“How do you know?” Polly asked. A tear trickled down her cold-reddened cheek. The opposite of her sister, she was more afraid than angry.

“I know your father. And I know Uncle Bear. They’re brave and strong. They won’t let a couple of bad men hurt your mother,” he answered.

“I agree,” Catherine said.

Sam threw the door open so hard it banged against the wall and the youngsters all jumped. He shook his head as he closed the door. “I’m sorry children. I didn’t mean to do that. I’m just so angry at those two men for taking Jane.”

“I’m mad too!” Martha declared.

“Aye, ‘tis infuriating!” Artis agreed.

“Catherine, I’m sending our four hands after Stephen and Bear. Perhaps they will be able to help, then they can proceed on to Fort Harrod as planned. As soon as they get fresh horses saddled, they’re leaving.”

“I hope you weren’t too hard on your men, Sam,” Catherine said.

“No. Dixon is a conniving bastard and as slippery as an eel.”

“Indeed,” she agreed. “And just as repulsive.”

“How are you feeling?” Sam asked her.

“Much better now,” she said and smiled.

“Glad to hear it,” he told her.

Sam stood in front of the children. “Martha, Polly, I don’t want you to worry too much. Your father and Bear will bring your mother back. I know my brothers, and those two weasels don’t stand a chance.”

“That’s exactly what I told them when you were outside,” Little John said.

“And you’re both right,” Catherine said, giving Martha’s shoulder a pat.

Sam knelt, gripped Polly’s hand, and gently squeezed it. “I’m going to go hurry my men along. I would go too, but I need to stay to take care of
Catherine and guard all of you. You’re safe here, I promise.”

“Thank you, Uncle Sam,” Polly said with a sniffle.

“My brothers will be back with your mother before you know it.” Sam stood and turned his eyes toward Catherine. “I going to do some work outside. Send Artis to get me if you need me.” He leaned over, gave her a kiss on the forehead, and left carrying his long rifle and pistols.

Catherine needed a way to entertain the children and keep them distracted from the ordeal their mother was experiencing. “Children, what do you say, should we ask your Aunt Artis to tell us all about her home in Scotland?” Catherine asked. “We’ve learned a little about Scotland from Bear, but I’m sure Artis could tell us even more and we can all get to know her better.”

Artis’ face lit up at the mention of her former home. She glanced over at Catherine and smiled. Then a hint of sadness filled her eyes for a moment or two before she shook her head and it disappeared.

Sometime while Artis was visiting, Catherine wanted to learn what had caused such melancholy to appear in the woman’s striking green eyes. Her strong profile and proud bearing held an inherent strength that she suspected was a result of some suffering, yet Artis appeared gentle, serenely wise, and stunningly beautiful.

“Would you, Aunt Artis, please?” Little John asked.

“Aye, but I must warn ye. I might scare ye with my descriptions of loch monsters and dragons on the moor,” Artis said, making her eyes wide.

Little John scooted a little closer to Artis’ knees.

The two girls turned to face Artis, appearing intrigued. It was good to see something on their young faces besides fear and sadness. Both girls were exceptionally pretty, but Martha had her mother’s fiery copper locks that curled in every direction. Her hair was in even greater disarray than normal, giving her a delightfully wild look. Polly appeared tired and mellow, unlike her typically high-spirited self.

“Bear told us that there are fairies in Scotland,” Martha said. “Is it
true?”

“Well, if Bear said it, then ‘tis true,” Artis said, giggling a little. She glanced at Catherine and winked.

“Your hair is so pretty,” Polly said, gazing up at Artis. “It’s like cinnamon and butter mixed together.”

Baby Samuel must have agreed because he still appeared fascinated by the fistful of Artis’ hair in his hand. Perhaps it was the unique color that captivated the child.

Artis grinned at Polly. “Thank ye, Polly. I like yer hair too, ye wee fey lass. ’Tis nearly as black as my bearskin blanket.”

“What’s fey mean?” Polly asked.

“It means ye remind me of a whimsical fairy yerself.”

“You have a bearskin?” Little John asked.

“Aye. Bear made it and ‘tis the warmest blanket I’ve ever had,” Artis answered.

“How’d he get it?” Martha asked.

“Well now, that’s a story Bear should tell. He tells it far better than I,” Artis said.

Mrs. Wrigley brought in a large tray filled to overflowing with bread and butter, cookies, biscuits and wild grape preserves, and assorted tarts. Miss Henk followed her in carrying a tray of mugs filled with steaming sweetened milk. She gave each child a small towel to eat on and they all grabbed an assortment of treats and then sat down again. Catherine was starving, as she nearly always was since the babe starting growing so fast. She took a slice of warm bread and slathered it with the preserves. Artis wanted only a shortbread cookie.

Mrs. Wrigley took baby Samuel from Artis saying she would feed him and see if his cloth needed changing. Samuel started crying as the cook carried him to the kitchen, evidently not wanting to leave Artis. Catherine couldn’t blame the boy. She looked like an angel with the firelight dancing
on her long hair.

“How cold does it get in Scotland?” Polly asked, chewing a tart. “As cold as here?”

“Oh, aye. Much worse. My grandfather and great-uncle told me of the worst winter ever. All the aged among us never remembered anythin’ like it. It happened in the year 1674, on twelve days in December. It was the most dire storm imaginable. At the beginnin’ of it, there were fierce storms and snow. Then a terrible wind from the east caused great loss of ships on the sea. And docked ships, large and small, were cast away like wee toys.”

“Then what happened?” Little John asked, already appearing enthralled.

“Then, a most harsh frost followed that covered the highlands and moors. The wee birds fell down from the air dead, frozen in flight. Even the big ravens died. The rats all froze in great numbers and later great piles of their bodies were found. Most of the sheep and cows died too. All the casks of ale froze and could not be drunk to warm the insides of the people. Even the contents of the chamber-pots froze solid.”

The children all giggled.

“’Tis true!” Artis declared. “After the terrible frost, it snowed for ten straight days and never once halted. The loch and all the fresh waters stayed frozen solid for two full months.”

“What’s a loch?” Polly asked.

“’Tis a vast and beautiful body of water,” Artis answered. “In Scotland we have many lochs. Their color is so blue and clear in the summer that they often made us want to weep from pure joy.”

“Joy can make you cry?” Polly asked. “I never had that happen.”

“Aye, it can. Happy tears fall when yer heart is so full of love it needs to let a wee bit of it out. I was that happy when I married Bear. I wept like a wee bairn,” Artis said. “Even Bear shed a tear or two of happiness.”

“Bear?” the children all asked at once, sounding skeptical.

Artis only smiled knowingly.

Catherine believed it. Bear seemed deeply in love. It thrilled her to know that he finally found his true love. He deserved happiness.

“I’m glad you married Bear,” Martha said.

“Me too,” Little John said. “But what about the monster in the lake? I mean loch.”

“Well now, here’s the strange story as told to many generations of Scotland’s children. I learned it as a young lass myself from my dear father. God rest his gentle soul.”

As Artis began, the animation in her voice was enchanting. The children all shifted a little closer. Even Catherine was pulled in by her charm.