Lord of the Wilderness Page 13

  Joshua leaned over her, guiding her hands and pulling with her. “Move with the rhythm,” he spoke huskily into her ear. She colored fiercely and stiffened with the near naked man pressed up against her. A band closed around her chest, held her lungs in a viselike grip and refused her breath.

  She responded to Joshua’s slow, steady instruction, her body throbbing.

  She couldn’t see where his eyes traveled but rather felt his heated appraisal. When she stretched the paddle farther, his biceps stroked her arms like a second sinuous skin. When his lips touched the lobe of her ear, she closed her eyes on a moan.

  Heat encased her hand. She looked down at Joshua’s hand covering hers and his warm breath tickled a frond of hair on her cheek. A warning voice in her head told her to pay attention.

  “Steady, Juliet. Remember, we’re in this together.”

  Soon she adapted, keeping the canoe from wobbling, and working in tandem with Two Eagles, guiding with his paddle to correct any mistakes she caused.

  Every so often, they spotted Indian villages a little inland. The fields were not plowed, yet rich black earth was piled up on hills two feet high, placed a long step apart. The hills were in rows and the women advanced, planting in the top of hills and singing. Not like the fields planted in England with horse and plow.

  “They are planting the three sisters,” Joshua said to her.

  “Three sisters?”

  “Corn, beans and squash. It will see them through the winter starving period when game is scarce.”

  “What are they singing?”

  “They are singing to both the Great Spirit, Hä-wen-ne-yu and to Grandfather Hé-no, the Thunder God. They thank the Great Spirit from the world and all that is good. He made the corn and the plants of the earth to grow, to blossom, and bear fruit. To the Thunder God, they ask for rain to wash the earth, and to slake the thirst of the corn, beans and squash.”

  “Life is so simple and meaningful,” Juliet said. Joshua chuckled, and she turned to look behind her. He reclined against the pile of furs “What is so humorous?”

  His hands were folded behind his head. “The days hum sweetly when I have enough bees to do my work.”

  Juliet back-paddled, flinging up a spray of frigid water over him and offsetting Two Eagles. “How is that for the sting of a bee?”

  He sputtered from the icy water, and she glanced again over her shoulder. He smiled at her, his whole smile, wiping away every bit of seriousness, a blatant male smile, sensual, confident and devastating. Her breath caught, and for one heart-stopping moment, she couldn’t breathe. She’d never experienced such a force. She inhaled sharply, her insides quickening deep in her belly.

  She swung around to face the front of the canoe, her body suddenly a white-hot, pulsating blaze rivaling the sun in intensity. Maybe it was the leftover exhilaration from the heat generated between them when he pressed his body behind her in teaching her how to paddle. Or maybe it was her mind playing cruel tricks on her. After everything she’d been through with the massacre, captivity, and the escape, her mind had turned to mush.

  She ought to think of her future. Secretly, while an indentured servant, she’d endeavored to send her cousin, Colonel Faulkner, a letter through a trapper. The man wasn’t the most reliable, and she wondered if her cousin ever received her message. For now, getting to Fort Oswego and meeting up with her cousin was paramount. He’d return her to England with Mary, to civilization and sanity.

  But what would her cousin say about her indenture? Would he give her the support she needed or turn his back on her like her uncle in England? Without resources, money or power, or family backing her, who was to say they might fall prey to someone like Baron Bearsted again?

  Juliet quit paddling to give her aching arms a rest, allowing the current to move them forward, her thoughts grim with the uncertainties of her future. Was what she had gone through in England not more brutal than the honest savagery of this new world?

  Chapter Fourteen

  The squealing yips coyotes came from the hills. Two Eagles sat at attention. Joshua scanned the shore. His first thoughts were of Juliet and Mary’s safety. The smell of smoke and burnt flesh fouled the air.

  “Strange, coyotes are only heard at night,” Juliet said. Joshua could see she was tenser than she wanted to reveal and with good reason. When she turned to look at him, he gave her a reassuring smile.

  Two Indians in breechclouts and a white man emerged from a line of trees, waved at them. A kastoweh was bound round their foreheads, two eagle feathers up and one down. Oneida. Two Eagles lifted his paddle in greeting, and Joshua maneuvered the canoe to the shore. The Indians stepped into the water and pulled their bow up on the banks. A dugout to the left of them was packed.

  Joshua and Two Eagles clasped the men’s hands. “Good to see you, Hadawako and Sheauga.”

  The white-haired man, in filthy homespun hobbled toward them, his face, crinkled like parchment and his eyes, bloodshot from crying. “Damn those Tory troops and damn those Mohawks. They wiped out my family. My dear Bessie of twenty years. They took my grain, plundered my house, destroyed my furniture, killed my livestock. I was working over the mountain at my mill when Hadawako came to warn me. I saw the smoke and ran, but by the time I arrived everything was gone.”

  He spat. “My beautiful Bessie, violated and scalped by those savages. My oldest son tried to defend the family but they pushed a lance through him, scalped him. No one deserves to die that way.”

  Juliet gasped.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” said Joshua. “I wish there was something I could have done. What will you do now?”

  “There’s nothing left for me here other than their graves. This was her favorite view of the river. Now she will have it eternally.” He pointed to the nine crosses on mounded patches of earth. “I’m traveling to Albany to live with my brother.”

  Joshua slipped easily into the Oneida tongue, spoke rapidly to Hadawako and Sheauga. “You must warn the forts and settlers to the south. Captain Snapes and Colonel Butler are gathering for a big battle. What happened here,” he angled his head to the graves, “is a sample.”

  Hadawako and Sheauga pivoted and melted into the forests.

  Joshua exhaled. His message would get through and hopefully in time. “We must leave this place.”

  The old man pushed his canoe into the river and vanished ahead of them.

  Juliet had observed the back and forth exchange, of flying hand gestures, anger and determination. Whatever had been discussed, Joshua seemed pleased with the results.

  She gazed at the forest that had swallowed up Hadawako and Sheauga. Then she asked, “What did you say to them that they left so quickly?”

  He tensed for a second. “I sent a message.”

  “To whom?”

  “Get in the canoe.”

  She sat purposely facing him.

  He pushed them into the river, hopped in the stern, his answer too long in coming.

  “It is insignificant.”

  He held the paddle too tight like when he curled his hand around the fork at Hayes’ dinner party. “What did you them?”

  He rearranged the gear and stretched out his long legs, sandwiching hers. “Winter might come early this year.”

  She snorted with his falsehood, his strong thighs holding her hostage. “To resign an intense conversation to seasonal predictions is laughable. What are you hiding? At the very least, I’d hoped you’d have them warn the Colonists of Captain Snapes and Onontio’s planned attacks.”

  Joshua’s movements were slow, cautious. “Your cousin, Colonel Faulkner would consider the caution treasonous. What would he have to say concerning your Patriot loyalties?”

  His question came with a deeper meaning, approaching her in a roundabout fashion like a trout circling bait. “After what I witnessed on the Hayes’ farm…I want no one to suffer violence, Patriot or Loyalist.”

  He probed her with his gaze. “What kind of man is your cousin?” />
  Again, another inquiry loaded with innuendo. “I’ve met him once when he was home from the Colonies. He stayed for two weeks and went back, spending years away from home and his family. I can tell you of his son, Edmund. He was the one relative who was ever kind to me. As children, we played hunt the hare for hours in the garden. If Colonel Faulkner is anything like his son, he is of good temperament.”

  The nine fresh graves and the man’s loss of his family triggered a jarring memory of Edmund. When his mother called, he wanted to remain hidden, becoming fearful. Strange. If her mother was alive, she’d want to be with her.

  Not to forget Joshua’s ambiguousness, she leaned back, at ease and in control, and laughed aloud, her laughter echoing over the river. “I am going to learn the language so I won’t have to hear of wintry predictions.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Two Eagles spoke to them patiently in his language, pointing out objects and repeating their Indian names over and over. He gestures were meaningful, marking each word with a specific tonal melody. What Juliet found frustrating was changing the melody changed the word. Mastering the rising and falling pitch proved maddening whereas Mary followed his words closely, picking up the language with ease.

  “Odéka’, eñgade´gat,” said Juliet, practicing some of the Iroquoian words. “I said, spoon, I make a spoon.”

  Joshua shook his head and laughed. “You said, ‘fire. I make a fire.’”

  “It is all for naught. Attempting the words is like running through a patch of thorn trees and catching unpronounceable syllables on every barb.”

  Juliet heard the roar first. They arrived into a basin, carved between two forests, framed by jagged escarpments of slate. Crystal cold water streamed over a mountain shelf, creating the most magnificent waterfall she had ever seen. A silver mist rose with a rainbow half the size of the falls and she inhaled the damp woodland scent of ferns, mosses and wild mint.

  Joshua steered the canoe to shore. “We’ll make camp.

  Julie wondered if they would ever make it to Fort Oswego. She was anxious to get there and seek help from her cousin. England yawned and the so quiet saneness of her little cottage called to her. Foxglove and lilies growing by a stone fence, and bread pudding, and her books. She blew a tendril of hair from her eyes. Was he delaying their arrival?

  “You are to learn how to shoot a gun, and I hope with a fair degree at accuracy.”

  She loaded the gun as he had instructed her before.

  “Good.”

  He stood behind her. A solid wall of muscle and sinew pressed against her back. She sucked in a shallow breath as he helped her lift the rifle.

  “You must have the butt end pressed to your arm or the recoil will give you a heck of a bruise.” He pulled her closer as he pushed the gun into her shoulder. When he leaned over and sighted down the barrel with her, pleasant shivers traveled up her spine with the brush of his beard against the softness of her cheek. His hand came to rest at her waist.

  “Fire.”

  She sighted and pulled the trigger the recoil causing her to fall backward. He caught her and steadied the gun in her arms. His heartbreaking grin and the sultry heat radiating from his body made her mouth dry.

  “What did I shoot?” she said, breathless.

  Joshua threw back his head and laughed. “A leaf.”

  Her shoulders sank. “A leaf?”

  “We’ll spend some time practicing. You’ll learn quickly.”

  After firing several more rounds and improving, he pulled her through the woods, identifying plants he learned from Two Eagles. “This is willow bark. Boil a tea. It is good to reduce fevers. Over there is knitbone, good for broken bones. Elderberry juice made from crushed elderberries is good for stomach complaint.”

  “When walking as you are now, you are a clear giveaway for men tracking you. Walk on stones to leave no footprint.” He broke off a branch and swept it over the area they had tread. “This will hide your trail.”

  “You are very experienced.”

  “You never know when such knowledge will save your life.” He smoothed the hair back from her face, and she leaned into him. He dropped his hand and gestured back to camp.

  How long could she keep up the charade? Day by day her attraction to Joshua grew. To pretend she did not have feelings for him was torture. How many times had she cautioned herself to stop staring at him? He’d only dismiss her affection.

  The intimacy of sleeping side by side had her thinking the impossible and a curl of desire grew inside her. They had brushed shoulders from time to time when putting up and taking down the camp. Other than that, they had kept their relationship familial. But it did not keep her from wishing things were different.

  Two Eagles had snared two rabbits, and one hung from a tree. He took some dried leaves from a deerskin pouch, lit them and, waving his hands with an upward motion, ushered the smoke to the rabbit.

  Her mouth watered and her stomach gnawed. Delaying a meal of roasted rabbit when she was starving? “What is he doing?” said Juliet.

  Joshua threw stacks wood down. “Animals have souls that are alike in their nature to the soul of human beings, yet they are more powerful. The hunter prays to the soul of the animal he kills and explains why he killed it. The souls of friendly animals help man, if man has been courteous, and he prays to the deceased animal’s spirit to enter him. The animal is taken for the body and is not stripped of the soul.”

  “Oh.” Juliet found the culture strange yet what Two Eagles performed was beautiful.

  “I was brought up to believe animals are beasts of burden for our use,” said Mary.

  Joshua angled his head. “I will translate your belief to Two Eagles.”

  While Joshua translated, Two Eagles narrowed his eyes on Mary, speaking rapidly while Joshua translated.

  “Animals assist us and act as potent spirit guides. One time my enemy wished to kill me. They blistered my feet with hot coals and forced me to run a great distance. When I tired, they tied me up. I called upon my brothers, the toad, the bat, the mouse and the nighthawk. The toad applied a salve to my feet and I was cured. The bat distracted my enemy by flying round. The mouse climbed the tree and gnawed off the cords. The nighthawk reported my enemy’s whereabouts as I made my escape.”

  Mary flopped on the ground, arranging her skirts around her. “Absurd.”

  “Two Eagles says nothing more ridiculous than Jonah being swallowed by a whale,” said Joshua.

  Mary rolled her eyes and snapped sticks in a pile to build a fire. Two Eagles broke out laughing, and Mary twisted her head around. “That is the first time I’ve heard you laugh. It’s rather nice.”

  He pointed for Mary to clean the rabbit. She shook her head no. He folded his arms in front of him and spoke quickly. Mary stared at him mutinously, refusing to budge. Clearly his manner spoke he would not start the fire until Mary cleaned the rabbit.

  “What did Two Eagles say?” said Juliet, puzzling over Mary’s antagonistic attitude toward Two Eagles, especially when her friend cuddled up to the one she called “savage” every night. Two Eagles’ tolerance was admirable.

  Joshua said, “‘When one has worked hard and is hungry, the food will lie well on the tongue.’ It is a war of wills.”

  Mary’s hunger overcame her and, soon she was gutting and skinning the rabbit with Two Eagles’ gestures. Mary, ever wary of the Indian, watched Two Eagles arrange a circle of stones, scooping out a piece of earth, making a hole in the middle. Over the hole he laid thin, dry grasses and twigs, arranging them in neat order.

  He picked up a fire-drill and placed the lower point of the shaft upon a piece of dry wood. He drew the bow against the drill numerous times until a spark lit the dry grasses. He blew it into a flame and fed it with additional tinder, following with larger branches. He thrust a sharp stick through the rabbit’s body to roast, and then stared at Mary with a thirst of a man who had found a nugget of gold and knew he had found a mountain of the treasure. “I·sé
uni stelist owískla u·kwé atnutolyaé óshes onúhkwis. I•se haw• akwa•wʌ́ kháleˀ yaˀtáuteˀ ˀnikuhlatsatste haw• akwa•wʌ́.” You make me laugh white woman with hair of gold honey. You belong to me and always will belong to me.

  “I’m going to collect Indian turnips growing downstream to add to our meal,” said Joshua.

  “Wait. What did Two Eagles say?” said Mary.

  Joshua whipped aside a maple branch, plunged down a path to the river, and said over his shoulder, “He is hungry.”

  “Men only think of their stomachs,” Mary huffed, and, at that moment, gazed longingly at Two Eagles. “I’ve never met such a man. All the bogey man stories I’ve been told are ridiculous.”

  “Am I hearing you might like him?” said Juliet.

  “He stands very straight and tall. His nose is long, his forehead high, his mouth wide. His eyes are bright and piercing. I’m struck by his noble appearance.”

  Juliet gaped. Trying to begin to identify the nuances of her friend’s contrary mind was like scraping her shoe on a star and hanging upside down from the moon.

  “It’s—I at no time was aware an Indian could look so fine, so wise and so good. He certainly is a fine specimen of a man.” Mary stood, practically swooned on her feet, and then departed into the forests.

  Juliet snapped her gaze to Two Eagles and captured a hint of a smile. Did Two Eagles understand more than he let on?

  Mary screamed. Juliet jumped to her feet and dashed down a slender animal path. Two Eagles swept past her, leaping over fallen trees, thickets of bush engulfing him, and disappearing far ahead of her. Were there other Indians? Bear? If anything happened to her friend…

  A stitch stabbed her side, and she staggered to catch her breath. How many times had she told Mary not to travel far from the campsite? She tunneled through the overgrowth, scampered over rocks, slipped on mosses, falling, her hands scraped across slate.

  Beyond the framing of trees, she saw Two Eagles poised, signaling Mary to cease her shrieks. A seven-foot diamond patterned reptile with keeled rough scales, coiled on a rock, hissing at Mary, its head up, blue tongue darting in and out. The tail rattled a lethal warning. The jaws opened revealing long white fangs ready to strike.