Frontier Highlander Vow of Love (American Wilderness Series Romance Book 4) (23 page)

“Just keep telling her he will be soon. I’ll go tell your father to get the doctor.”

“Tell him to hurry,” Kelly said as William slipped out the door. She thought a lot of the good doctor. Doc McDowell completed his medical training in Scotland. He’d told her once that Edinburgh was a mecca for medical students from all over the world. But he also accepted many Indian and African healing methods and believed the plants of nature provided remedies for nearly every human sickness. He practiced medicine in Danville two weeks a month and two weeks in Boonesborough. Kelly prayed the doctor was still in Boonesborough. He would know what to do.

She went back to Artis and took the cloth from her forehead. “Bear will be here soon, I’m sure.” She dipped the cloth in fresh water, wrung it out, and put it back on Artis’ forehead. “You have a bit of a fever, but this cool cloth will make you feel better.”

“Kelly,” Artis said, gripping Kelly’s hand. “Steller may have killed Bear.” Tears welled up in Artis’ eyes and slid down the side of her face and into her hair.

“You mustn’t think like that. I know Bear. He’s a fierce warrior. Steller doesn’t stand a chance against him.”

“And I know Steller. He’s vicious and capable of the worst kind of atrocities. Kelly, he killed my dear sweet mother,” she said, her voice breaking.

“I know Artis. Bear told me. And I am so sorry. But please try not to think about that now. You must save your strength so you will be feeling better when Bear gets back.”

Tears still flowed from Artis eyes. She covered her face with her hands, as though she were hiding her sadness. Then Artis’ shoulders quaked as her weeping grew harder.

Kelly just sat next to her on the bed, letting Artis weep. Sometimes it was better to let all the sorrow out. Artis was clearly still grieving for all her losses.

Artis’ hands clenched into fists and she pounded the bed on each side of her. “I brought that evil man to ye. He could have killed ye and yer wee daughter. And he may kill Bear. Please forgive me.” She turned pleading eyes toward Kelly.

“There’s nothing to forgive, dear one,” Kelly said. “You didn’t bring him here. His own hatred did.”

“I know why he hates me. It’s because I would na marry him. I spurned him. That’s why he killed my mother.” She buried her tear-stained face in the crux of her bent arm.

“And you are worried that he will kill Bear too?”

Artis pulled her arm down and gazed up at Kelly, her expression one of deep wretchedness. “Aye.”

Kelly could see a war of emotions—grief, anger, and worry—raging
within Artis. Her face was blotchy and red with both rage and fever. She had to get Artis to calm down.

“Here blow your nose.” Kelly gave her a cloth. “Do you remember Philippians 4:8?”

Artis nodded that she did, but didn’t say anything.

“…whatever is lovely…think about such things,”
Kelly quoted.

Artis blew her nose, and after she took a few deep breaths, she seemed less agitated.

“Good, now I want you to drink some more of this broth and then sleep.” She held the cup up to Artis’ parched lips once again and after two swallows, she laid her head down. “I’ve sent for the doctor. He’ll know what to do about your fever.”

“Bear, Bear, please come back to me!” Artis bit her lip and squeezed her eyes, as though she were trying to hold in her emotions.

“He will. I promise,” Kelly said.

“How can ye promise?”

“Because I know the Wyllie brothers. Someday, I’ll tell you how they rescued me and later how they saved the people of Boonesborough from some dreadfully bad men. They’re brave unyielding men, well used to fighting for their family. He’ll fight for you Artis.”

“With a strong hand,” Artis said, wistfully. “Our clan’s motto.”

“I saw Bear proudly wearing your clan badge at the ball. Did you give it to him?”

“Aye, I did. And he gave me a luckenbooth—the symbol of love and union between two people. Where is it?” Her eyes widened in panic.

“Be easy, it’s right here.” Kelly retrieved the beautiful brooch from a side table and handed it to Artis.

She clutched it against her palm, and laid that fist upon her heart as she closed her still wet lashes and fell asleep once again.

Chapter 28

S
teller threw another log on his cook fire. He wasn’t too worried about one of those farmers deciding to chase after him. He’d seen the fear in Kelly’s eyes. She’d make sure they’d stay close to home to protect her. Just in case, though, he used dry wood because it burnt with little or no smoke. And after his long trek through the woods, they’d never find him here.

He’d shot the rabbits earlier and had them cooking over the fire for the last hour or so. His stomach growled and his mouth watered. The sizzling meat was almost done.

He wanted to cook himself a good meal because today he would start back toward Artis. He couldn’t wait to literally get his hands on her. He’d spent the three days getting here imagining ways to have his way with her. The thoughts fed his unrequited need for vengeance.

First, he would take her forcefully, shoving his rod into her, over and over, until her privy parts bled. He’d show her what kind of man he was—what she’d been missing all this time.

Then he would bugger her soul to hell.

He tugged one of the rabbits from above the fire and left the other to cook a little longer. He blew on the meat too cool it.

He’d almost enjoyed his three days in the Kentucky woods. At first,
the silence had been a little unsettling. So were the occasional howls of wolves and the shrill yapping of coyotes. But now, as he leaned against a big oak tree and pulled strips of the hot meat from the rabbit, he found the forest peaceful and calming to his soul.

Sometimes he wondered if he still had a soul. If he did, he was sure it was long ago condemned. Maybe someday he’d give up his wicked ways and start a new life. But not yet. He still had things he had to do that some would consider sinful or depraved. Gratifying his need for vengeance was all he had left of his life.

He licked one of his greasy fingers and then glanced up when he heard something off in the distance in front of him—a log cracking perhaps. It was probably just a forest animal. But he’d better check just to be sure. He tossed the meat aside onto his camp plate and quickly wiped most of the grease on his breeches.

He stood and reached for the long rifle he’d taken from Kelly, which was leaning next to him against a tree, but it slipped from his still oily hand and fell to the ground. He bent to pick it up.

“Stay down,” he heard a deep voice growl, from right behind him. “Move away from that rifle, but don’t straighten up.”

Startled, he started to reach for the rifle.

“If ye move that hand another inch, yer a dead man. Move away from that rifle. Now!”

Steller shuffled a few feet to his right.

“Now toss yer pistols—all of them—behind ye.”

He threw a flintlock behind him.

“The rest of them now! And be quick about it,” the voice demanded.

He flung one more.

“I said the rest, I will na ask ye again,” the man warned.

He pitched the other two and could hear the man picking them up and
sticking all four in a belt.

“Ye can stand erect now, but keep yer hands in the air. And turn so I can see yer slimy face.”

Steller turned slowly. Before him stood one of the biggest men he had ever seen—a heavily-armed hulk of a man. Not only did he have the pistols, he had a long rifle, at least two knives he could see, and a wicked looking hatchet.

Bloody hell! Where had this man come from? And why?
The man’s speech sounded as though he were from the Highlands too.

“My Highlander friend, ye are welcome to share my meal. Ye do na have to rob me,” he tried.

“I am na yer friend and I am na a robber.”

“Well then, may I have yer name?”

“No.”

The man just kept staring at him with narrowed flinty eyes. The face was a mask of carefully controlled rage, his ire revealed only by the muscle that clenched along his firm jaw. He held his head high and his massive shoulders back. He kept his stance wide and wore tall moccasins. No wonder he hadn’t heard this man sneak up on him. Moccasins were much quieter than boots.

Growing nervous, Steller swallowed, even though the man wasn’t holding one of the pistols in his hand. “As ye can see, I’m just a weary traveler, passin’ through Kentucky.”

“What is yer name weary traveler?” the man asked mockingly.

“It’s Patrick Steller,” he answered hastily, and then at once regretted giving the man his real name.

“Yer a long way from any of the main roads in Kentucky. Did ye get lost, Mister Steller?”

“Aye. But I think I’m headed in the right direction now.” He tried to
keep his tone light and friendly.

“Tis a fine animal ye have there. Where did ye get him? And what is the horse’s breedin’.”

So that’s what this man was after. His horse. He was nothing more than a common horse thief. He couldn’t let this man take his horse and leave him stranded out here in the middle of bloody nowhere.

“He is a fine stallion. I bought him in Virginia,” he answered smoothly. He ignored the question about breeding. “But he can be a wee bit high headed, as most stallions are inclined to be. He still needs a lot of training to make him level headed. He’s pitched me more than once,” he lied.

“Tell me more about ye, Mister Steller.”

“Well, I am a respected lawyer in Virginia,” he lied. “But I am movin’ my practice to Kentucky—Louisville perhaps.”

“What is your legal opinion of habeas corpus?”

Steller had no idea what habeas corpus meant. “Och…ye must be hungry. Can I interest ye in some of my tasty rabbit?” He gestured toward the meat still sizzling on the fire.

Bear was enjoying his verbal torture of the man. He wanted to confirm what he knew in his heart—that this man was a deceiver. That his black heart spewed lies as easily as his lungs released a breath.

As a brother of William, he’d learned quite a lot over the years about the law, including that a writ of habeas corpus demands that a prisoner be taken before a court to determine whether the custodian has lawful authority to detain the prisoner. It had been common legal practice for hundreds of years.

“Ye did not answer my question about the meanin’ of habeas corpus. Tell me. Now!”

Steller stiffened and just stared at him, looking annoyed.

“And ye could not tell me the horse’s breeding,” Bear added in the same cool tone.

Infuriated now, the man’s lips tightened and his dark eyes heated.

Growing impatient, Bear took a step toward Steller. “Now ye’ve proved what I already believed. Yer a bloody liar. And a thief. And a murderer. Why did ye lie about being married to Artis?”

Shock registered on Steller’s face. Then mockery tainted his stare. “You have na idea what Artis’ past is. I do. I was there. How do ye know she’s
not
married to me?”

He squinted his eyes and gave Steller a penetrating glare. “Tell me the truth if ye do na wish to die this day.”

“I…” Steller stammered. His features contorted with hatred. The man’s overly bright eyes clawed at him with talons of anger as he yanked a long knife from his belt.

Bear withdrew his hatchet. “The truth!”

They stared at each other across a palatable cloud of contemptuous hostility.

Then a distant movement in the timber beyond Steller caught Bear’s eye. A black blur, no two black blurs were moving toward them through the forest shadows. While Bear snuck up from the west, they’d been stalking the campsite from the east.

Steller came at him at a charge, yelling with fury, and wielding the knife with wild rage.

Bear easily side-stepped and then pivoted a few feet away. He did not want to use his hatchet on Steller. Not yet anyway.

He would need it for the bears.

Chapter 29

T
he forest vibrated like thunder as the enormous black bears barreled toward them, their fear-provoking jaws agape.

The smell of the roasting rabbits must have drawn them.

Steller turned around at the ominous sound. “Bloody hell.”

Bear stuck the hatchet in his belt again.

Steller’s stallion squealed in panic, reared, tore his bridle off the tree branch, and ran off.

“Shoot them!” Steller screamed.

Bear already had the larger male in the sights of his long rifle, but the animal, running faster than a horse, unexpectedly plunged in Bear’s direction and the shot missed.

“Ye damn fool!” Steller swore. “Ye missed.”

The bears were closing the gap between them with astonishing speed.

Bear threw down the rifle, giving Steller a black look. He didn’t have time for fools or time to reload. He glanced over at the rifle Steller had knocked to the ground. He didn’t have time to reach it. “Are the pistols loaded?” he shouted.

“Yes! Give me one!”

For a split second, Bear considered it, but his distrust for Steller was so great he decided against it. He grabbed two pistols and aimed for the head of the closer smaller bear.

He realized the tiny balls of lead would do little to stop the massive bears. The female looked to be the size of two men put together. The gigantic male, lagging a few yards behind the female, was even bigger. But if he could manage to shoot at least one of the fearsome beasts in the head, that would improve their chances.