Candace McCarthy (13 page)

“What did Black Hawk say?” Amelia asked upon Daniel’s return late that afternoon.

“He’s sent out his men to scout the area.”

They sat at the dining table in the main room of the cabin. Amelia was snapping some beans that Jack had brought over for them. Daniel had pulled up the chair across from her, and she was conscious of his continued study of her.

“How soon before we hear?”

“I honestly don’t know. We’re dealing with the Ojibwa, not the Americans. You can’t rush them. As soon as Black Hawk learns something, he’ll let us know.”

“But that could be days, couldn’t it?”

Daniel inclined his head. “Weeks actually.”

“Weeks!” she exclaimed.

“More like days, but I can’t promise you that.”

Amelia’s spirits plummeted. Her eyes filled, and she turned away.

“Amelia—” She felt his touch on her arm. She jerked away, unwilling at that moment to be comforted.

“My father is missing, Daniel,” she said. “It’s hard not to be upset, and it’s even harder not to be able to do something to find him.”

“Oh, but something is being done. Black Hawk’s Ojibwa scouts are on the trail. They’re excellent trackers,
better than any white man I’ve ever known. If your father is nearby, then Black Hawk will find him. If not, then Black Hawk will help us search. In any event, Black Hawk will find your father in the end.”

She felt mildly appeased. “You think so?”

“Yes, I do.” Daniel looked about the cabin. “Susie all right?”

She nodded.

“What did the two of you do today?”

“I laundered clothes, and Susie ran around the house, playing Indians.” Given what the child had suffered when she was three, Amelia was amazed that Susie could play such a game without evoking bad memories.

“Seeing Black Hawk made her think of her Indian friends,” Daniel guessed.

Amelia smiled. “I suppose so. She seems quite fond of Black Hawk, too. If she hadn’t come out of her room when she did, I might have brained your Ojibwa friend.”

“Brained?” A twinkle of amusement lit up his blue eyes.

“I would have hit him over the head with my teacup.”

Laughter erupted from his throat; the low musical sound made her tingle. Amelia knew that she was staring at him, but she’d never heard such a hearty laugh from him. It affected all of her senses. If she hadn’t fallen in love with him before now, hearing his laughter would have clinched it. She couldn’t stop her own grin or her laughter that followed.

“What do we do now?” she asked after their shared laughter had died down.

“Tomorrow I go back to work. I have several commissions I need to get done.”

“So I’m just to wait?” She scowled with frustration.

Daniel eyed the woman before him, understanding how
she felt. “I know it’ll be hard, but it’s the best thing. I’m sure Black Hawk will get back to us in a couple of days. Until then, we wait and stay close to the house in case the Sioux take it into their heads to visit us.”

“Do you think that’s likely?” she asked, sounding worried.

“It’s possible, but as for likely, I just don’t know. The Sioux and I are not exactly friends.”

“I see.”

Did she? he wondered. She looked lovely today. Since she’d come to stay, she’d taken to wearing her hair unbound, a style that was much more fetching than the pinned-up knot she’d previously worn at her crown. For the first time in four days, Amelia wore something different than the gown she’d come to him in. When he’d left the mission yesterday morning, he’d brought back some of her personal belongings. When he’d given them to her, she’d been delighted. He didn’t tell her that he’d found the infirmary in shambles with most of her father’s medicines tossed or destroyed, nor would he tell her the destruction had continued into the Dempseys’ living quarters in the back rooms. He’d accepted her thanks with a nod, glad to see her smile.

She’d made use of the change in clothes. Instead of the green-striped garment she had on the day before, she had donned a simple gown of blue calico with a scooped collar and lace along the neck edging and the hem of its short sleeves. With her hair down and her feet bare, she looked like a different woman from the city creature who’d come to the trading post with her physician father.

“Is something wrong?” she asked. She continued to snap beans, placing the ends in a pile off to her left side and the precious bean piece in a bowl to her right.

Daniel realized that he’d been caught staring at her.
Gawking would be more like it, he thought with self-reproach. “No, nothing’s wrong.” He made himself shift his gaze toward the doors to the back rooms. “Where’s Susie?”

“Over at Jack’s,” Amelia replied. “She was anxious to get out of the house, so when Jack called with these beans and asked for her, I figured it was all right to let her go.”

They were alone in the house, Daniel thought, pleased with the idea.

No, I must not act on this. She is vulnerable and hurt. She doesn’t care for me. She s just grateful for the rescue and my help in the search for her father.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked.

“No, I said I’d handle the search—”

“I meant in your shop,” she said with a flicker of annoyance in her gaze. She hated to be reminded how helpless she was, he thought.

“You want to help me in the smithy?”

She set down a bean and steadily held his gaze. “Am I not capable of being of some assistance?”

Daniel blinked. This woman was forever surprising him. “Well, of course, you are,” he said. “I just didn’t think you’d want to is all.”

“I’m always open to learning new things.”

He arched an eyebrow. “And one of those things is to work at the forge?”

Looking haughty, much like she’d appeared that first day, she regally inclined her head. Her expression seemed to challenge him.

“Fine,” he said with a smile. “If you’re willing to help, then I’m eager for the assistance.” He allowed himself the luxury of boldly running his gaze over her. “I hope you have something better to wear in the shop than that.”

She frowned. “What’s wrong with my gown?”

“Nothing,” he assured her, “if you’re visiting a neighbor or working in the house, but around the forge fire— no. You’ll need something more practical for that.”

“Practical?” She looked doubtful. “I’m not sure I have anything practical in my wardrobe.” She paused. “You know what I have. Will any of those garments do?”

He shook his head. “ ‘Fraid not. I’ll check with Jack to see if he has anything more appropriate.”

“And what would be appropriate for the shop?” She must have read his mind, because suddenly her eyes widened. “Trousers? You want me to wear trousers?”

“Does the notion bother you?”

“No, no,” she quickly reassured him. “If Jack has a pair of trousers that will fit me, I’ll be happy to wear them in the shop.”

“Good.” Daniel pushed back his chair and stood. “There’s a lot waiting for us to do.” He didn’t point out that a great deal of his commission work came from the mission and the missing and dead who would have no use for the items now. He planned to fill every one of his orders in case the owners were found alive. The items for the dead he’d use in trade if no else needed them.

She couldn’t take it anymore. Not hearing or knowing anything upset her deeply. Lying in bed at night, Amelia stared at the rafters in her bedchamber. Two days had passed since Daniel had visited Black Hawk, two days and no sign of Daniel’s Ojibwa friends.

She rolled onto her stomach and pounded her pillow in frustration. Living this close to Daniel, feeling the tension, the attraction, and fighting her feelings with her every breath was wearing on her nerves.

Not that he’d done or said anything to hurt her. She
scowled and flung herself onto her back again. On the contrary, Daniel had been solicitous and polite, allowing her time alone, while not pressing her when they were

together.

Which is why this is all so difficult!
she thought.

They’d sailed along fine, two crewmen on a ship cruising calm waters, sharing the same house, the same dinner table, as if they were friends and comrades and nothing more. But the physical ache was there; at least, it was for her. She attempted to hide it; yet, all the while she was afraid he’d see … not only that she was sexually drawn to him, but emotionally as well. The last thing she needed was for Daniel to realize the extent of her love for him. It would be too humiliating if he knew. He had lost a wife and at times appeared to be grieving for her still. Other times, it seemed that his wife had caused him nothing but anguish. She couldn’t figure out just what he was feeling, and if she was confused, she could imagine how mixed-up he felt.

He hadn’t touched her in the last two days, and she was glad. His gaze on her seemed like a physical caress, which was difficult to ignore. She was scared that if he touched her, she would instantly melt and beg him to love her.

Amelia hugged herself with her arms. She had to get away. The thought upset her, but then so did the battle going on inside her mind.

She sat up, swung her legs off the bed, and quickly, silently, pulled off her nightwear. She would go to the mission. She had to talk with the Reverend Whitely. He might have remembered something by now—or perhaps Will had.

Daniel wouldn’t be happy with her, she knew, but she
had to go. She didn’t think she’d be in danger—not if she was careful to stay hidden as she went.

Her gaze fell on the new pair of trousers she’d gotten from Jack. She was glad she had them; it would help her travel without skirts or petticoats to hamper her way.

She dressed in a shirt—another acquisition from Keller’s—then donned the trousers and her black-leather boots.

Her fingers settled on the doorknob; she hesitated before carefully turning the knob. To her relief, the door opened quietly, and she was able to slip into the great room where there was little light. Her eyes were adjusted to the dark, so she was able to find her way to the outside door without mishap.

That door squeaked slightly as it opened, and she froze, listening to see if anyone had stirred at the sound. There was no noise but the
tick-tick
of the clock on the mantel. Putting aside her doubts, Amelia left the cabin with a pounding heart and hurried along the edge of the forest road toward the mission.

Daniel woke up with a start. He lay in his own perspiration, listening to his thundering heartbeat, and thought about the nightmare he’d just had. It had been a tangle of dreams, all of them frightening, with each segment featuring someone he’d loved or cared about.

There was Pamela, fleeing to escape him. His best friend James sat beside her in the carriage that careened over a cliff, sending the vehicle with two screaming occupants hurtling into the air and falling until the rocks below cradled their broken, bleeding bodies.
Which is strange, because their vehicle hit a tree.
In the dream, he’d heard a baby’s wail as Pamela had been thrown, the
cry of her unborn child—James’s baby, the baby he’d called his own.

Just as quickly as that image faded, another one came, more terrifying than the last. This one featured Jane and Susie and the band of Indians who’d attacked them. He saw Jane being tied up and beaten, heard Susie screaming for the bad men to leave her mother alone. He saw an Indian reaching for the little girl, saw Susie scurry under her mother’s bed. The Indian started after her, but a sharp word from another brave had him abandoning his chase, and Susie was left alone to weep and cry out for her mother.

After that, the images had become more confused. He saw Jack’s face and Amelia’s. He heard Rebb’s voice, but the man who’d spoken didn’t look anything like Rebb. Then, suddenly, he’d heard the wild cries of Indians on the attack. Oddly enough, it was the fur trapper Kertell who led them on their bloody massacre at the mission.

He woke up when Amelia appeared a tortured victim of Kertell and the Sioux Indians. Then, James Beck, his former best friend, was there, and he was laughing wickedly as he joined the others, where he stroked Amelia’s face, fondled her breasts, and slapped her when she cried out and struggled.

This last part of the dream was more disturbing, more terrifying than the rest of the nightmare.
It’s because of Amelia,
he thought. He was falling for her hard, and he was scared that she’d be hurt or killed, and he’d lose his heart and his soul.

“Amelia,” he whispered. He had to see her, know for himself that she was all right. He rose naked from his bed and pulled on a pair of breeches. If she was awake, he didn’t want to offend her sensibilities. She had kissed him like she’d known passion before, but her behavior
afterward, her shy glances, the tide of red that swept her cheeks said she was an innocent.

He tread carefully as he moved to check on Susie first. He smiled and felt some of his concern ease. She looked so peaceful, like an angel with her hair of spun gold and her smooth baby like skin. He didn’t approach the bed. He didn’t want to wake her, for fear she’d be unable to go back to sleep. He closed the door and moved on to Amelia’s room. Holding his breath for a heartbeat, he reached for the doorknob and found that the door hadn’t been shut tight. He leaned his weight against the door and pushed, then stepped inside her room. He knew the bedchamber but wasn’t as familiar with the layout of the furniture, for he’d built and furnished the room for Jane—in the event he ever found her … so she’d have a home to come to, a lovely room that would help banish the memories of four long years’ nights of hell.

In here, he couldn’t easily find his way, and there was not enough light to help him. He moved slowly, inch by inch, heading toward the bed—or so he hoped.

He released a sigh of relief as his knee touched the end of Amelia’s bed. He paused to listen for the sound of her breathing. She must be a quiet sleeper, he decided, for she didn’t make a noise.

Drawn by her image in his mind and the need to touch her, to reassure himself of her safety, Daniel followed the width of her bed, then moved down its length. He stopped and reached into the dark to find her, but came up with nothing but a tangle of bedcovers.