Dorothy Garlock - [Annie Lash 01] (29 page)

“I thought the Mississippi flowed north and south. I’m sure we traveled west. How can this be the river when we’re still so far from home?”

Simon lay propped on one elbow and watched her. The fire had long since gone out. Through the branches of the trees the stars glittered brightly. Berry’s face was a white blur, but he knew every feature, every line. There’s never been a woman like her, he thought with quickening pride; she’s beautiful and spunky beyond all reason. He couldn’t stop looking at her and could just barely concentrate on what she was saying. She was his to care for, to keep safe. It would be hard now to consider a future without her.

“Simon?”

“Sorry, sweet girl. I was daydreaming. You asked about the river? Just beyond the point where the Missouri flows into the Mississippi it makes a deep bend and curves toward the northwest. A few miles farther it makes another bend going south and then northwest again. I’ve never been that far west, so I headed northeast, knowing sooner or later we would reach the river and could follow it home. We reached it a little sooner than I thought we would.”

“If we had a raft we could float down the river.”

Simon chuckled softly at her logic. “It’s not as simple as that. That river has a mind of its own. We’d have no way to steer a raft. Besides, Star wouldn’t stand for it. He hates to even cross on the ferry.”

“How long will it take us to get home?”

“Three, maybe four days. It depends on how often we stop—how much dallyin’ we do. . . .” His hand reached out to caress her ankle and calf. A teasing grin played on his wide mouth, and wild, sweet enchantment rippled through her veins.

“I like being with you, Simon. I’d rather be with you than anyone in the world.” She moved closer to him and drew his head down onto her lap. Her fingers combed his hair, then trailed down the side of his face. “I thought I’d never see you again.” Her voice was strained, as though she was trying not to cry. “The ugly one wanted to kill me! It seems so strange that they found me when the rest of their party was so far west.”

“They could’ve come down the Missouri to sell some furs. It’s hard to tell about roving renegades.”

Berry felt compelled to talk about the time she had spent with the Indians. “I suspected they could understand English, so one night I named everyone I could think of. I said, ‘Simon Witcher will come for me.’ I mentioned Fain, Mr. Pike, Mr. Lisa, and I even told them I was the daughter of Mr. Chouteau. They didn’t seem to pay much attention until I mentioned the scout called Light. Then the ugly one hit me and tied me up.”

“Every Indian in the territory along the rivers knows about Light. He’s friend to some tribes and a deadly enemy to others. Oh, Lord, sweetheart! There’s so many
ifs
I don’t want to think about them.
If
it had rained a day sooner.
If
I hadn’t come back to Fain’s when I did.
If
I’d not found you . . .” His hand gripped hers so tightly that it was painful.

“Why did you leave Fain’s that morning . . . without a word?” she asked quietly after a heavy silence.

“What do you mean ‘without a word’? We talked for hours the night before. I told you then that we’d wed and I’d take you to my homestead. There were things I had to do in Saint Louis. It only took me seventeen days.”

“Only seventeen days!” she sputtered. “And I suppose you thought I’d be right there waiting when you decided to come back to get me.”

“You’re damn right I did! I was madder than hell when you wasn’t.”

“Only mad?” she asked, her voice tight.

“Mad and scared! So scared I thought I’d lose my supper. Don’t ever pull a stunt like that again. When I tell you to stay put, you stay put!”

“Then you care for me after all. You’ve never said so.”

“I don’t go to Saint Louis to fetch home a cow, chickens, goods to make curtains and dresses, and a bake oven for every woman that crosses the river,” he said with exaggerated patience.

“You went to get those things for me . . . for us?”

“For us, you mule-headed little baggage!” He moved over and drew her down beside him. His arms snatched her up against him and pillowed her head on his shoulder.

“I haven’t called you a mule’s ass lately,” she said between giggles and snuggled her face against his rough-haired chest.

“True,” he said and chuckled. “Do you suppose you’re learnin’ some manners?”

“I got enough manners. What I need is a bath.”

“We’ll find a stream tomorrow and we’ll both bathe. It’s too dangerous to bathe in the river—too many sinkholes.”

He lifted her face and covered her mouth with his. It was a long, leisurely kiss, exquisitely tender and full of sweetness. He leaned over her, his lips savoring hers while his hand moved inside the neck of the shirt and gently massaged her breast beneath her thin shift. Then he raised his head and looked into her eyes. His soft chuckles fanned warm breath on her wet lips.

“It might take us a week to get home,” he threatened.

“Home to your place or Fain’s?”

“Mine. We reach it before we get to Fain’s. I figure we can stay overnight, then go on down and let Rachel know you’re safe. We’ll get our cow and a few other things I hauled up from the warehouse.” He paused to kiss her. “I shoulda had Silas marry us when he wed Fain and Rachel. I thought about it, but didn’t know how it would set with you. You seemed mighty stuck on Fish.”

“Stuck on Fish?” she repeated. Then a little devil with horns prodded her to say, “He is handsome, and he’s got such good manners. I just never thought about him being stuck on me,” she lied. “Do you suppose that’s why he danced with me and taught me the words to ‘Yankee Doodle’?”

“He’s not the man for you,” Simon said, his tone a growl, mentally kicking himself for mentioning the man’s name.

“Why not? He told me about his home back east. He said I’d be a belle. . . .”

“I’ll tell you
why not!
” Roughly his hands gripped her arms and pulled them up to encircle his neck. His face was inches from hers. She could hear the click of his teeth when he snapped his jaws shut. “Because you belong to me, by God! Even if you didn’t, a weak-kneed sissy britches like him wouldn’t be able to handle you. You’d be leading him around by the nose in no time at all. You need a man who’ll make you toe the line.”

“Make me . . . toe the line?” She tried to pull her arms from around his neck and push him away from her, but he held them and forced her to stay still. “I’ll not be any man’s slave, Simon Witcher! My pa was like that:
Do this, do that!
I hated him! I thought we’d share things . . . be like Fain and Rachel.”

“And we will, as long as you don’t go running off on another wild goose chase. When it comes to the matter of taking sensible precautions, you’ll listen to me. Is that clear?”

“I only wanted to find my pa’s land,” Berry said stubbornly.

“Don’t mention that goddamn land again!” He was almost shouting.

“Are you going to hold this against me for the rest of my life?”

“No, darlin’ girl.” His voice softened. “I can’t go through the hell again of not knowing if you’re dead or alive, or . . . what’s happening to you.”

“Ahhh . . . Simon, love . . .” Her mood changed instantly. She pulled his face down and covered his chin with kisses. “You do care for me! Why can’t you say it?”

“Are the words so important?”

“To me they are. I thought you didn’t care for me. When you went away and left me, I thought you had been just talkin’ . . . funnin’, like men do. I had no words to cling to.”

“All right. I care for you. I’ve never cared for anyone before, except for the woman who took care of me when I was young. I have to get used to that feeling. So don’t be throwing up Fish’s fancy manners to me. I’m not a man to be teased.” He rolled onto his side and drew her to him. “Now hush up talkin’.”

“There’s only one way to stop me,” she whispered happily.

They kissed until they both were moist with urgency. Berry tingled and came alight when his hands moved up under her shift. She pulled away from him, shrugged out of his heavy shirt, then nestled against him. Wherever he put his hands on her, that place grew warm. His hands on her thigh made her body ache with pleasure, familiar pleasure, calling for more.

She knew how to kiss him now. Her lips were soft and moist, her tongue reaching for his. His hand beneath her shift found her quick and wet to his fingers. He unfastened his buckskins, slipped them down, and slid over her. She opened to receive him, flesh sliding hot and sweet along his extended masculinity. Her pubic hair was silky as he entered, penetrating her carefully, conscious of the soreness she must feel from their previous couplings.

“Oh, Simon . . . you don’t have to be gentle,” she begged and pressed on his buttocks. He had entered her only partially and the ache of pleasure was farther inside. She felt him hot and throbbing, as she was. She arched frantically, urging him on. A fierce life burst within her, the strong hard prodding of his body setting off a clamor of vibrating waves. They kissed and moved together, joined in hungry flesh. She felt him hard and deep inside her body. He shuddered, and the hot splash of his seed awakened a soft explosion from her own body. They lay entwined, flesh glued together by the sweat of their loving.

“Did I hurt you?” Simon’s breath came in ragged gasps and he moved away, but only a little.

“No! Oh, no. I like doin’ this, Simon. I like lovin’ with you.” She was still adrift in a hazy world of pleasure.

“I was afraid you might be too sore . . . after last night, and riding all day,” he said and lifted himself out of her.

“It’s wonderful how we fit together. Don’t you think God did a good job when he thought this up?”

Simon chuckled. She was a constant delight. “Settle down and get some sleep,” he murmured.

Berry turned over and insinuated herself into the curve of his body, tucking herself snugly so that her bottom pressed against his lower abdomen. Simon wrapped her in his arms and smiled into the darkness. He held a world of treasure in his arms.

*    *    *

On the evening of the fourth day they came out of the forest and onto land that had been cleared for planting. They were home—this was Simon’s land.

During the journey they had not seen another human being. They had crossed over swiftly moving streams that poured into the great river and traversed trails that writhed like snakes beneath giant trees like sentinels that threatened to block out the sky. They had carefully skirted a she-bear and her cubs and shivered at the sound of a cougar’s scream.

They had not gone hungry on the trip, due to Simon’s proficiency with his makeshift spear and to the wild berries, plums, and pears that grew jungle-like along the riverbank. While she was with Simon, there was never a time when Berry was afraid. He guided them surely and confidently through terrain that took them at times far from the river, as he chose the path through the tangle of trees, vines, and brush. Berry never questioned his ability to get them home safely. She obeyed his every order. He taught her to be watchful while in the forest and more so when traveling through open terrain.

In the evenings they bathed when possible, ate their meal, and made love. It seemed to Berry that she was living in paradise—that they were the only two people on the face of the earth. Now that it was over, she didn’t know if she was sorry or glad.

Simon led her up the course of a little stream that cascaded sparkling from the crest of a bluff. They came out on an open prairie that extended across a wide plateau overlooking the river. The rich prairie rolled gently away to the edge of the forest. The carpet of waving grass parted to frame the clear blue of the stream that meandered pleasantly across the meadow before plunging over the escarpment to disappear into the bottomland. Nestled against the backdrop of tall cedars was the homestead. Simon’s home site was doubly blessed with the gracious fertility of valley land and a hilltop view.

Simon had built his cabin on a bluff overlooking the river. It wasn’t a high bluff, but high enough, he explained, that they wouldn’t need to worry about the river flooding and washing them away. The cabin was small—about half the size of Fain’s double cabin. There was a lean-to shed and a split-rail enclosure for the animals. That was all. Berry tried not to be disappointed.

“I haven’t spent much time here,” Simon explained and lifted her off the horse. “Lardy and I made just enough improvements so I could hold the land. I plan to build a house to the left there among the oaks. I want to put up a barn large enough to hold a winter’s supply of hay, and a smokehouse, and build a landing down on the river.”

Berry stood with her bare toes nestled in the loose dirt and looked at the forlorn cabin. “Who stays here while you’re gone?”

“Lardy is here some of the time. If we both leave, we nail the door shut. Indians come by every so often and steal food, but that’s to be expected. They don’t figure it’s stealing.”

Simon led Star toward the lean-to and Berry went around to the cabin door. She was surprised to see that it was standing open, hanging crazily from one iron-forged hinge. She was puzzled and disappointed. She hadn’t expected the cabin to be as well cared for as Fain’s, but she hadn’t expected it to be so dilapidated, either. The door moved easily when she pushed on it.

She stood in the doorway because she couldn’t go farther into the cabin for the debris that littered the floor. The place looked like a pigsty! Berry’s nose twitched with distaste as repugnant odors wafted from the room. A hunk of raw, spoiled meat, covered with buzzing flies, lay on the table. Cooking and eating utensils were scattered on the floor along with the contents of a wardrobe that stood beside the window, its doors hanging open, the inside looking like empty, gaping cavities. The straw-filled mattress lay half-on, half-off the bunk.

“What the hell!” Simon crowded past her and stood among his scattered possessions. He cursed again. Everything in the cabin bespoke savage destruction. Battered utensils lay near the fireplace, the mantel wiped clean of candles and books. Simon’s coal-oil reading lamp lay shattered on the floor.