Blackbird (11 page)

CHAPTER TWELVE

ADAHYA saw the anger and fear in Katherine’s eyes, and he looked away.  He had scared her again, just what he had vowed not to do.

He was a monster in her eyes.  And he hated Knox more than ever now.  He tried not to be jealous of Knox, but at times all he wanted to do was kill the man.  Katherine was in love with this Joshua.  He saw it in her eyes every time she spoke of him.  He wondered again if she had given herself to Knox.  She must have had some reason why she defended him so aggressively.

He was tired.  Tired of fighting with her.  Tired of wishing things could be different with her.  With the world.  So tired.

He kissed her then, and to his surprise, she did not strike him.  Instead, a slow sigh escaped her, and she kissed him back.  His moved his lips gently over hers, testing, seeking.  She opened her mouth to him, taking him inside.  He felt her hands upon his chest, then his shoulders, then around his neck. He pulled her close, slowly leaning into her until she was lying on her back in the tall grass.  The wildflowers enveloped them as he pressed his body against the length of her.

Months of shame suddenly melted away.  If only Katherine would love him, give herself to him right here in the meadow without fear or restraint, she would erase the pain Song had left with him.  She would ease the fear he felt so often because his future was so insecure.

This white woman was so different from Song.  Katherine stood for everything he was against, yet he wanted nothing more than to be with her, to have her see him as a man not a monster.  If he could do that then everything would be all right.  It would not matter what side of the war they were on or that his family hated her.

With great restraint, he broke the kiss.  She had come close to despising him today, and he could not risk going further.  Still refusing to leave sanctuary of her arms, he lie against her and listened to the gentle breeze and forest birds around them.  He buried his face in her neck, taking in the ever growing familiarity of her scent.  One of her hands was still in his hair.  The other stroked the back of his neck.  He closed his eyes and sighed.  Song had never touched him so tenderly.  No one had.

She could make him forget everything so easily.  She could make the pain go away.

* * *

KATHERINE opened her eyes.  Unconsciously, she had been winding her fingers through his hair and massaging the back of his neck.  She had not noticed until now how heavy he was lying against her.  She had forgotten that she hated him.

Anger and confusion rose again as he rolled off her and pulled her back into a sitting position.  Her god did not mean for her to lie with him.  It was a sin in His eyes, she was sure of it.  Nevertheless, she could not get the thought out of her head.  She could just let this man make love to her here in the tall grass, in this beautiful sacred place, and no one would ever have to know.  It would be something beautiful that she would keep forever in her heart, and when Joshua sought reason and admitted his love for her.

Her thoughts shocked her.  She did not know if Joshua would ever love her.  Loneliness and homesickness, both familiar friends to her now, filled her heart.  She looked at Adahya, suddenly afraid he had read her thoughts, but he was nonchalantly talking about taking her fishing.

Loneliness quickly transformed to guilt.  Adahya spoke as if she would always be a part of his life.  She would escape first chance she got, and just like Song, she would be gone.

Only she would be the one to leave him with hard feelings.  Song had died, but Katherine would be leaving him of her own free will.  She wondered if he would come to hate her or if her abandonment would hurt him more than Song’s death had.  Adahya did not deserve that.  He deserved a woman who would love and take care of him and give him children.

But that woman was not her.  Katherine belonged to another world.  To another man.  To Joshua.

She listened to him tell her of his childhood, of his brothers and the short time they had spent with their father.  Katherine recalled all the things she had lost:  Mama, the mission, her friends Thomas and Robert.  And Joshua.  And now her freedom.

If only she could convince Adahya to take her back to the mission to get her belongings.  Joshua had to be back from Albany by now.  He would save her from this Indian.  He would kill Adahya, and she would be free.

But would Joshua really save her?  He did not even own a gun.  And she really did not want Adahya to die.

Katherine sighed.  Her situation seemed hopeless.  Still she had no choice but to try to persuade him into taking her back.

He was untangling some sort of fishing net.

“Adahya,” she interrupted his endless chattering about fishing.  “I need to ask you something.”

“What?”

“I need you to do something for me.”  She paused, watching his expression.  He raised an eyebrow, already skeptical.  “I need you to take me back to the mission to--”

“No!”

“But just to--”

“Your place is with me!”

“You’re not listening to me!” she cut him off, feeling both weak and vulnerable against his anger.  Tears of frustration threatened to spill.

He gripped her shoulders hard enough to bruise.  “Hear my words, Katherine.  Your old life is dead now.”

“I won’t listen to you!”

“You belong to Adahya!”

Katherine brought her hand hard across his face.  He released her, and she stumbled to her feet.  Not caring where she was going, just as long as it was far away from him, she ran into the woods.  She ran fast.  Faster.  Faster until her lungs ached from want to rest.  Until she could no longer hear him shouting her name.  She stopped dead in her tracks.

She had no idea what it was.  But it was certainly something.  But what?

Only an ordinary tree stump, but a tomahawk had been embedded into the center of it.  In fact, it had been sunk into the stump so violently that the blade was completely buried in the tree.  Black beads adorned the handle, along with six white feathers that floated in the gentle breeze.  But the strangest thing was the color.  Red paint had been poured over the entire hatchet.  Even the feathers were bleeding with it.

In front of the stump, two branches were stuck in the ground.  Three strings of shells were suspended between them.  Feathers also adorned this display.

And red paint had been dumped over them too.

Katherine touched the shells.  This was some sort of monument.

But a monument to what?

Katherine looked back toward the direction in which she had come.  To her surprise, Adahya had not followed her.

He would know what this monument was for.

But she never wanted to see him again.

Night fell and still Adahya had not come for her, and she began to wonder if he had given up on her.  Her heart leapt at the prospect.  If he had, she would have to find her way back to the mission alone.  She could do it.  She would do it come first light.

Unsure of when she had fallen asleep, she awoke shivering at the base of the tree stump.  The sun had not been up long, for the dew still lay on the tops of her moccasins.

She looked down at them.  The red and green beadwork reminded her of Mama’s Christmas quilt which was back at the mission.  Homesickness struck her in a desperate, heart-wrenching wave, and she sobbed in loud, gasping hiccups until she was completely exhausted.

The shrill cry of a blue jay sounded in the distance.  She looked out over an ocean of dew-laden ferns.  Standing in the center of them, arms folded over his chest, was her captor. 

“I want Mama’s quilt,” she declared.

* * *

FOR a brief moment, Adahya wondered if she were losing her senses.  She just stared at him, her expression unreadable.  He had spent the night only a few yards from her sight.  The night of seduction he had allowed himself to hope for had been a disaster.

He had spent the night wondering what to do.  He and Katherine would probably never get along, he realized now, and he would be fooling himself to think otherwise.  Perhaps he should take her back to Knox.  He should do it today before he changed his mind.  He could take her as far as German Flats and leave her with a trader’s wife.  Someone there would see to it she got home safely.

Something similar to grief filled his heart.  He did not know when he had grown accustomed to this foul tempered, outspoken woman, and he wondered if her absence would hurt more than Song’s rejection had.

Wearing a lethal expression, Katherine took hold of the tomahawk’s handle tried to remove it from the stump.

“Do not touch that!”

She struggled with the hatchet until she was struggling for breath.

“Katherine, leave it alone.”  His voice boomed with an air of desperation. “It is not yours.”

No longer struggling, she looked down at the weapon and then at Adahya.  “It’s yours, isn’t it?”

“Not anymore.”

“You made this.”  She stepped closer to him.  “Why?”

The smell of black powder filled the air and smoke clouded the forest.

Someone shouted, “Indian!”

“I got him!” another voice echoed.  “Henry, I think I got him!”

* * *

IT was then that Katherine realized Adahya had hit ground beside her.

She dropped to her knees and scanned the area, but saw no one.  With her eyes burning from acrid smoke, she crawled to Adahya.  “Are you hurt?”

He pulled her down and covered her body with his.  “Shh!”

She tried to turn to look at him, but he held her immobile.  Footsteps moved past them.

“Where is he?” a man asked.

“It’s too quiet, Henry.  There’s more of them.  I can feel them watchin’ us.”

“Let’s get out of here!”

Running.  Footsteps fading into the brush. 

After several moments, Adahya stood and helped her up.

She made a complete circle, but the men were nowhere in sight.  “Who were they?”

“Trappers, most likely.”

Katherine looked in the direction the men had run.  They had tried to kill Adahya because he was an Indian.  They had not even known she was with him.

If they had, they surely would have helped her escape.

All she had to do was scream.  They could not have gone far.  They would hear her and come back for her.  Then take her back to the mission.

She took a step in their direction.

“How are you so certain they will not harm you?” he called to her.

She stopped and pondered what to do. 

Adahya stormed toward her and yanked her by the arm.

“Let go of me!” she cried.

“I am tired of your games.”  He jerked her back toward the meadow.  “If you wish to whore with trappers, I can just as easily pass you around my own village for entertainment.”

“You’ve been shot,” she said, seeing the blood on his shoulder.

He kept walking.

“Adahya, stop.  You’re bleeding.”