Wild legacy (31 page)

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Authors: Phoebe Conn,Copyright Paperback Collection (Library of Congress) DLC

BOOK: Wild legacy
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Falcon nodded as Campbell continued to compliment him and praise their success. Faint from loss of blood, he was glad to be on the winning side, but he was a long way from home, and that was where he wanted to be.

Belle was helping her mother tend her herb garden when she heard Falcon speak her name. Elated that he had returned home, she looked around, expecting to find him coming her way, but he was nowhere in sight. "Did you hear someone call my name just now?" she asked her mother.

Arielle was harvesting the comfrey she had planted last spring. She would dry both the leaves and roots for medicines. She straightened up and scanned the yard. Dominique was standing near Belle, and looked equally perplexed. "No. Could it have been a bird, or the wind?"

There were birds in the nearby cottonwoods, but Belle had never heard any with calls of a single tone which would mimic her name. There was a gentle breeze, but again, it did not have a masculine sound. "No. It was Falcon. He called to me very clearly, as though he had some urgent need." When her mother and sister exchanged a worried glance, Belle was provoked with them both.

"I did hear him. I swear I did. His voice was as clear as yours, Mother. I don't understand why he isn't here."

Arielle set her scissors and basket aside and came to her daughter. "I believe you. Falcon loves you dearly, and no

matter how far away he might be, he must surely be thinking of you. Even if his words echoed only in your mind, his thoughts were surely with you."

Having no further interest in the herbs, Belle crossed to the bench at the edge of the garden and sat down. "I don't believe this is a good omen," she murmured fretfully.

Arielle quickly joined Belle on the bench. "Please. Do not worry when there is no need."

"No need?" Belle had already dipped into her mother's store of dried raspberry leaves to brew a tea that eased the nausea she experienced upon waking. She believed she might have become pregnant the first time she had slept with Falcon in August. It was now October. The fact that she and Falcon were not legally wed was a small problem, however.

"Falcon has had time to return to the fighting," she reminded her mother. "When so many others have been killed—"

"Stop it!" Arielle ordered emphatically. "You must not allow that thought to even enter your mind. Falcon is the most skilled of soldiers. He is well, as he always is. Don't doubt that."

Dominique walked over to them, but she did not look nearly as confident as their mother. "Have you ever heard Father's voice when he wasn't near?" she asked.

Arielle gestured helplessly. "No. But I have heard of people hearing the voices of their loved ones when they could not possibly be heard. It could be a very good omen, cherie. Falcon may be on his way home again, and thinking of how much he wants to see you. Or perhaps it was merely a vivid memory that touched you suddenly."

Belle shook her head. "I was thinking of how much I still had to learn from you about herbs, not about Falcon. It wasn't a sound I just conjured up. It simply happened as naturally as he speaks to me when he's here. That's why it startled me so not to find him nearby."

Dominique sat down beside Belle. "Let's view this as a

good thing," she proposed. "I wish I had someone thinking of me as often as Falcon must dwell on thoughts of you."

"Half the Virginia militia must dream of you," Belle mused aloud.

"Belle!" Arielle scolded.

Dominique laughed. "No. She's right, Mother. At one time or another, I do believe a great many of the men serving with Virginia's militia have called on me. I should have kept count. Well, no matter. I think it's sweet that you heard Falcon speak your name. Make a note of the date, and when he comes home, ask him what he was doing today. I imagine you'll find he was lost in thoughts of you."

Belle longed to believe that. "I suppose that could be true."

Arielle leaned close to kiss her daughter's cheek. "Of course it is true. Come help me finish in the garden, and we'll go inside and make lemonade."

"No. I think I'll go down to the stable and check on Nails. With Falcon gone, he's undoubtedly feeling neglected." Without waiting for her mother's permission, Belle rose and started off toward the stable.

Arielle turned to watch her go. "I do not like this," she whispered to Dominique. She reached for her daughter's hand. "Say a prayer with me for Falcon. I do not want Belle to lose him when he is so precious to her."

"One soul sharing two bodies, I believe she said." Dominique bowed her head and prayed that her cousin was as well as when she had last seen him. Her thoughts swiftly strayed to Etienne, and she added his name. As she and her mother finished working in the garden, she grew increasingly concerned that Falcon had called to Belle for a reason, and that it could not possibly have been good.

Belle walked through the stable, but Nails's stall was empty and she went on outside to the paddock, where she found the beautiful stallion in a highly agitated state. One

of the stableboys was seated on the top rail watching him. "What's gotten into Nails?" she called to him.

The boy scrambled down off the rail and removed his hat. "That I don't know, Miss Belle. He just started kicking up an awful fuss in his stall, so I brought him out here, but he's no happier."

Belle rested her arms on the top rail. She called to Nails and the horse trotted over to her, but then tossed his silky white mane and trotted away. "He misses Falcon as badly as the rest of us."

"That may very well be true, Miss Belle, but what shall we do with him if he won't calm down?"

"If he looks as though he might jump the fence, call Hunter. He'll know how to handle him."

Belle considered going to look for Hunter herself, but if hearing the call of a loved one meant something sinister to the Seneca, she would rather not know it. Apparently calmed by her presence, Nails slowed his restless circling and came back to her. She reached out to pat his neck and recalled the nights she and Falcon had ridden him into the forest outside Camden. She wondered what other secrets the stallion might be privy to.

"I wish you could talk," she told him. "I'm sure your opinions would be unique to say the least, and undoubtedly valuable. As it is, we shall have to be content with no more than a nuzzle and a pat. Leave him out in the paddock for a while," she called to the stableboy. "Perhaps he was simply bored."

"Yes, Miss Belle. I'll do that."

Belle pushed away from the paddock and walked back through the stable. This time she stopped to visit a moment with Ladybug, who was passing the afternoon in lazy contentment. She then went on to the river and sat down on the grassy slope to watch the water surge past in rollicking waves. She missed Falcon more each day, and had even

taken to visiting his room in the evening before she went to bed.

There was a bow and arrows he had made as a child lying on the desk. She remembered that each time Hunter had taken him off into the woods to teach him something new, he had come running home to show her what he had learned. He had always been so proud of his skills—and it had been an endless source of wonderful games for her. What a strange pair they must have been, an Indian boy in buckskins and a little blond girl in ribbon and lace.

Belle hugged her knees as she began to cry. She had never known a world without Falcon, and she couldn't bear to think he might have called to her with his dying breath.

Etienne demanded a wagon taken from Ferguson's troops, hitched his bay and Smoke to it, and started off for home the morning after the battle. Along with Falcon, he had three other wounded, but there was little he could offer in the way of care. One man had been shot in the arm, another in the foot, while the third had been slashed by a Loyalist making a bayonet charge. Falcon was the most seriously wounded, but also the one most familiar with the terrain. Etienne relied upon him to set their course.

With three spare horses, Etienne was able to switch teams often, but fording the Catawba River taxed the strength of both man and beast. Wet and weary, they swung wide around Charlotte to avoid British patrols. Then Etienne began angling northeast as they crossed the Pee Dee River, but with better than three hundred miles to cover before they reached Williamsburg, he never drew an easy breath. The man with the injured foot offered what help he could, while the fellow with one good arm did, too, but Etienne watched Falcon and the other man grow progressively weaker.

William Campbell had given them what provisions he

could spare, and Etienne caught fish when he could, but he had a difficult time convincing his ailing companions to eat more than a few bites at each meal. There were days they went without fresh water, and others when Etienne had to get down from the wagon to lead the horses through the swamps. He lost count of the days on the hellish journey, and cried with his passengers when they at last passed into Virginia.

While Belle heard no more voices, she awoke each dawn burdened with a sense of foreboding that kept her from enjoying any part of the day. Rather than accomplish any useful tasks, she wandered the plantation in aimless circles. She could not concentrate on the print in books, nor work on embroidery. She tried fishing, but missed Falcon so badly she never put her hook in the water.

Whenever Dominique, her mother, or her aunt tried to engage her in conversation, her attention would drift to the point that she could not follow along. They all excused her distracted behavior as natural with the man she loved away, but Belle knew it wasn't normal at all. Her intuition told her something was terribly wrong, and sick with dread, she watched the road and waited for the message she was terrified would come.

When Etienne at last drove the wagon into the yard, Belle was the first one out the door. Had Etienne not been smiling, she would never have made it to him, but he quickly turned to show her he had brought Falcon home. "They all need help," he told her, and swung down to the ground. In another minute, he was pushed aside as everyone came pouring out of the house.

Exhausted, he walked around to the side of the house to the well, pulled his shirt off over his head, and after bringing up a bucket of water, drew it aside and poured it over his head and shoulders. The well was covered, and two benches

connected the posts supporting the roof. He sat down on one and put his head in his hands. He was so tired he felt sick clear through, but he had gotten everyone to the Barclays' alive, and that meant more to him than he could have ever explained.

Dominique had seen Etienne wander off and did not think of him again until she was certain Falcon was alive. Her cousin was pale and weak, but he was strong enough to hug Belle and that was enough to cheer them all. As for the other three men, they had to be helped from the wagon as well, but asked only to rest on the steps where they could see the James River and then give thanks that they had made it home.

With sad memories of the hospital at Camden suddenly strong, Dominique offered to find Etienne and hurriedly fled. When she rounded the corner of the house and found him seated at the well she first thought he was in tears and hesitated to disturb him. Then she noticed the long scar that sliced across his right shoulder blade. It made him so much more human somehow to know he really had been wounded, and she gathered her courage and approached him.

Etienne looked up, his green eyes bloodshot from the glare of the trail and lack of sleep. "I did my best," he apologized. "I know they're all sick, but at least they're alive."

There was no hint of criticism in Dominique's eyes, only an expression of deep concern. She reached out to caress his damp curls. "And you?"

"I don't think I could have made it another mile." He closed his eyes and sighed softly. "Just let me sit here a few days, and I'll be fine."

Dominique had no intention of granting such a foolish request, but rather than urge him to his feet and coax him inside, she sat down beside him. She was wearing the same pale peach muslin gown she had worn on their ghastly tour of the curing barn, and she hoped he would not remember the gown, or that day. "How did you get the scar on your back?" she asked.

Etienne tilted his head back against the post. "A British soldier tried to run me through with his bayonet, but the blade bounced off the bone. I spun around and, well, you do not want to know exactly what I did, but a soldier ought not to be stabbed in the back."

"No. You're right. That was cowardly. I can't tell you how grateful everyone is to have Falcon home safe with us. Belle hasn't been herself for a couple of weeks. When was Falcon hurt?"

"It was October 7, at King's Mountain. We left for home the next day." He rubbed his hand across his chin, apologized for the stubble, and then shrugged. "Well, none of us looks his best, but at least you know I usually look better than this."

"I think you probably saved my cousin's life so I'll not complain." In truth, she liked him much better now that he had lost his cocky smirk. As for the beard that shadowed his cheeks, it reminded her too much of Sean's. She ran her hand down Etienne's arm and laced her fingers in his.

"Falcon's already been taken to his room. We'll make up beds for the others in the sitting room tonight so they don't have to climb the stairs, and tomorrow we'll see that they reach their homes. You're welcome to use Beau's room for as long as you wish."

She had a delicate hand and long, tapered nails. Her skin was the pale gold of rich cream, and his deeply tanned. Etienne studied the contrast in their skin tones and thought it a sign of how far apart they truly were. "No. I could not use Beau's room," he argued.

"Why not? He'll not be back for months so you'll not be inconveniencing him."

"No. It would not be right."

He was staring off toward the garden, and Dominique did not understand his objection. "Well, if you won't use his room, there's a guest room on the third floor that would be equally comfortable."

"I am too tired to climb the stairs," Etienne offered with his first hint of a smile.

Dominique released his hand and slid her arm around his waist. "Come with me. I'll help you."

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