Red Bird's Song (21 page)

He smiled crookedly. “You're giving me relations left and right, dear heart. Come, little bird,” he said to the baby. “Let's find your mama."

Charity turned back to the fire. Ladling a bowl of broth, she sipped the hot liquid and gazed at the rain drumming the leaves piled on the ground. How could Wicomechee find his way in this fog, let alone hunt?

"Charity,” a low voice called softly from behind her.

She spun around to see Rob Buchanan half-hidden in the shadows back against the rock wall. When had he made his way there? She'd glimpsed him earlier with a different gathering.

"Will you bring me some broth?” he asked.

She hesitated. Outhowwa and Wicomechee had been quite clear about there being no contact between them.

"Please. The others haven't come yet."

"I suppose it couldn't hurt.” Dipping the ladle into the kettle, she refilled her own bowl and carried it to him.

He smiled and reached for it with unbound wrists. “I thank you most kindly."

"You are most kindly welcome. I best go now."

"Wait. Bide awhile and speak with me."

She darted a glance around the encampment. Muga had his back turned to her and Colin was preoccupied with Emma.

"No one's paying us any mind just now,” Rob said.

"Very well. For a bit."

He brightened and patted a spot near him. “Sit here."

She lowered herself uneasily onto the layer of dry leaves.

"I'm supping in grand style with you by my side.” Lifting the bowl to his lips, he swallowed hungrily. He gulped a final swallow and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “By heaven, I needed that. You had a hand in the soup making?"

She nodded. Little physical evidence of the beating remained on Rob's face. He was the youthful image of his good-hearted father, attractive in a rugged way and intelligent, but his ordeal was fresh in her mind.

"You're not tied. Does Outhowwa leave you unbound now?"

"During the day. I'm trussed up again at night."

"I'm glad you have some freedom."

"He usually sees to it I'm guarded. I reckon no one thinks me fool enough to run out into this storm.” He smiled. “I would, only I've a far more pleasant occupation just now.” he smiled.

Her cheeks warmed at the open appreciation in his hazel eyes. “Do you still think to escape?” she whispered.

"First chance I get."

"Don't take the risk. Your punishment would be severe if you're retaken."

"Afraid you might have to come to my rescue again?"

"I doubt I would be successful. Outhowwa has scant fondness for me, though he seems to like you well enough."

Rob shrugged his wide shoulders. “He doesn't abuse me."

"You are fortunate he wants to adopt you."

Two warriors ducked under the generous overhang beyond Muga. She recognized the white deer tail decorating Hoskasa's scalp lock. Limp rabbit ears protruded from the bulging haversack he'd taken from a fallen Highlander in battle.

"The hunters are returning. I better go."

Rob closed his hand over her arm. “Wait. Wicomechee's not among them, nor Outhowwa. I haven't had the chance to thank you for what you did. I owe you my life."

She hovered nervously beside him. “I was grateful to be of service, but Mister Dickson really made the difference."

"Those few minutes you bought me before his arrival were vital. ‘Twas very brave of you, Charity. I feel terrible you were punished."

"My suffering was little in comparison to yours."

He set the bowl down and clasped her hand. “I would spare you all manner of suffering, were it in my power. If we hadn't been taken captive, you might well be my betrothed."

She tried to pull back without drawing attention. “Rob, you mustn't. If Mechee sees us—"

"Mechee? Is that what you call him?"

"Easier to say. He'll be furious."

Rob kept tenacious hold of her. “Hear me out. I've been longing to speak with you."

She couldn't escape him without creating a scene. “Be quick. Please."

He reached out his other hand and tucked a tendril behind her ear. The familiarity of his touch only increased her discomfort. “I adore you, Charity, and have for ages. You must know the strength of my regard."

"Yes.” She prayed no one else would notice.

"You fled the last time I came calling, remember?"

"How can I forget? You tried to kiss me."

His lips curved in a wry smile. “And off you went like a startled doe. Still, I was willing to be patient and win you. Even now, I've not lost hope. Promise you will wait for me."

His ardent regard heaped on her like hot coals. “Oh, Rob. I can't promise."

"Listen, our recovery may be more possible than you think. An army under the command of Colonel Bouquet is marching on the Shawnee and their Delaware allies."

Not long ago she would have rejoiced at these tidings. Now, a weight sank in her middle. “Your father spoke of it."

Rob nodded eagerly. “The Indians are beaten down from years of war. Without French aid it's likely they'll be forced to seek terms of peace, the Colonel's terms. If this happens, I'm confident he will demand the return of captives."

Her throat tightened. “All?"

Rob's sandy brows drew together. “Yes."

"Even if they don't want to go back?” she forced out.

"What in God's name are you talking about? Oh, you mean your cousin, Emma Estelle?"

"Not only her."

"Who, then? Does James want to play at being an Indian?"

There was nothing for it other than to speak plainly. “I couldn't bear to leave Mechee."

Rob looked at her in the same manner his shocked father had. “Good Lord. You truly care for this warrior?"

She nodded.

He blew out his breath. “I saw Wicomechee with his arm around you. Made me madder than a baited bull, but I thought you were feigning affection to appease him."

Her constricted throat made speech difficult. “Mechee is unlike anyone, and any other warrior."

Rob ran agitated fingers through his hair. “It's unexpected, yet understandable, I suppose. Wicomechee's not bad for a warrior, and you are dependent on him for your very survival. But he's Shawnee, Charity. You belong with your own kind. Don't you want to go home?"

His wounded question pierced the ache way down in her heart. “I fear I shall never see the valley again."

"
Our
valley. We grew up there together. I know I could make you happy if I had the chance."

She lowered her eyes from the appeal in his. “Perhaps you could have, once. I was afraid to give you that chance."

"It's not too late."

"It is. I'm promised to Mechee."

"How so?"

"As his wife, with Outhowwa's blessing."

"Hell. Has Wicomechee consummated this union?"

She glanced up and answered haltingly. “Not if that means what I think it does. But he will."

A red flush colored the fading bruises on Rob's cheeks. “And there's little I can do to prevent him, damn him,” he muttered. “That thieving son of a bitch."

She'd rarely heard such coarse language in her life and never from Rob. She shrank back.

"Sorry.” He reined in his tongue and cupped one hand to her cheek. “Even if Wicomechee has claimed you, I swear I'll find a way to get you back. If Colonel Bouquet doesn't succeed in his quest, I know my father will go to any length to gain our freedom. In time, you'll forget this warrior. The regard you bear him is only a fleeting infatuation."

"How can you say that? You don't know how I feel."

"I've known you since we were children.” He circled an arm around her waist, further entrapping her. “You're just confused, not thinking clearly. I'll teach you to love me."

"Please, Rob. You're endangering us both. Let me go."

"I haven't so much as spoken to you in weeks. I am not turning you loose to run back to him."

Her stomach churned. “I'll find a way to speak with you again."

"They'll keep us apart."

"Release me. I beg you."

"So sweetly you plead. Have you pleaded with him?"

"I've asked Mechee not to consummate our union yet, as you called it,” she said, stumbling over the unfamiliar term.

"At least that's a step in the right direction. If he's as noble as you say he is, he will respect your wishes."

"It's not that I don't care for him. I'm frightened."

Rob clinched her tightly. “You bloody well should be. Keep the savage at bay, Charity. Give me a chance."

She didn't dare struggle and arouse suspicion. “We're going to be in so much trouble. Especially you. Let me go."

"Kiss me first."

She couldn't believe her ears. “Are you mad?"

"With love."

"Shhhh. Don't speak so."

"Can't be helped. Allow me the kiss I was denied before, and you are as free as a captive can be."

"Do you promise?"

He smiled. “Of course."

Apprehension pounded in her chest and nearly choked her. “All right. On the cheek, mind."

"Oh, no.” Gripping her chin in one hand, he brought her lips forcefully to his.

Wicomechee ducked under the stone, wet through and discouraged, but the broth smelled savory and his spirits lifted a little as he slid his hunting pouch to the leaf-covered earth; it held only three small rabbits.

James bounded up from beside the fire and caught his sodden sleeve. “Play cards with us."

"Not now, small one.” Wicomechee ladled the hot liquid into a bowl, grateful for the sustenance awaiting him.

He swallowed and glanced around for Charity. Usually he found her eyes seeking his and then she came up to him with that wary yet wanting look in her face. Even though she'd been hesitant ever since he'd killed Paxton and frightened her half to death, he hoped maybe this evening he could take her aside and speak with her alone, maybe even—

He halted in mid-sip and almost dropped the bowl. She sat back in the shadows caught in Rob Buchanan's embrace, his greedy mouth pressing hers. What in blazes was going on, as Waupee would say? And for how long?

The panther inside Wicomechee rose up on all fours, its fur bristling. He fastened his furious stare on the bold Long Knife. “Take this,” he said, and handed the remaining broth to James with icy calm. “Stay well back."

Leaving the bewildered child, Wicomechee advanced on the pair, his voice a hiss. “You dare make love to my woman?"

Charity lurched, gasping, in Rob's hold. He broke off his kiss, though not his grip on her, and shot an unrepentant look at Wicomechee. “Charity was promised to me by her guardian. Until you stole her."

Wicomechee only just held back a feral cry. “Her guardian lies dead. You wish to join him?"

"Mechee—no.” Charity struggled to pull away from Rob.

"Will you hide behind her, Long Knife? Let go of my wife."

Rob freed Charity and sprang to his feet. “She should be mine, damn you, Wicomechee!"

He'd surely kill this foolish man before he drew another breath.

Charity seized Wicomechee's arm as if to restrain him. “Don't—please."

He could tear free from a grizzly the way he felt, but stayed his hand with the calm that comes before a storm. “Have you the strength to take her from me, Rob Buchanan?"

The Long Knife halted, his mouth hanging open as he considered his challenge. “You mean fight only you?"

He gave the barest nod.

"Fine. Let's fight it out,” Rob agreed.

Like a panther, Wicomechee waited for the right moment to tear into his adversary.

Charity lifted her white face to his, liquid eyes pleading. “No. He hasn't a chance."

Rob crossed both arms over his chest and cast her an indignant look. “I've a chance, Charity, if they don't all pile on me."

Wicomechee burned him with a scornful glance and swept one hand at the other braves. “I do not require their aid to deal with you."

"Do you intend making this a fair fight? I am unarmed."

"Waupee will hold my weapons.” Wicomechee pried Charity from his arm and thrust her at Muga. “Wait there, Red Bird.” The big warrior gripped her shoulder in obvious confusion.

His English brother pushed through curious onlookers. “What in the world?"

Wicomechee took the musket from his shoulder, the knife and tomahawk from his waist and handed them to him. “I will teach this Long Knife to keep his hands and lips from my woman."

Waupee rounded on the defiant captive. “Rob—you idiot. You actually kissed her?"

He faced him unashamedly. “She was entrusted to me by John McLeod. I've more right to her than Wicomechee does."

"Well, I'm standing beside one incensed warrior who doesn't agree. Confound it, Buchanan. How many times do I have to save your ass?"

Rob jutted out his jaw. “I did not request your aid."

"You would if you had any sense."

"I'm not afraid to fight him."

Waupee raked back his hair. “You should be. Oh, hell. Learn the hard way."

"Rob, offer Mechee an apology,” Charity implored him.

He shook his head.

"No matter,” Wicomechee said. “I will accept none,"

Waupee paced between them. “Don't be too hard on this rash pup,
NiSawsawh
. I promised his father and brother I'd look after him."

"I gave no such promise."

"Be reasonable. Outhowwa won't want you ripping him up."

"I'm no pup, Mister Dickson,” Rob intruded. “Neither of us is armed, and we're about the same size. Why are you so certain I'll lose?"

"I've seen Wicomechee fight."

Charity reached out to him. “Mechee, listen to me."

He brushed her aside with scarcely a glance. What Rob had done was inexcusable, but she never should have allowed him the tiniest opening.

Waupee drew her back. “Come here James, Lily."

Braves stood aside, prepared to enjoy the clash. Charity waited in marked dread. “It's all my fault."

"Hardly. Buchanan asked for this,” Waupee said.

And Wicomechee had had enough. She cried out as he drove his fist into Rob's jaw with the speed of a panther springing from the trees.

His head jerked back and he reeled, blood running down his chin.

Waupee gave a low whistle. “That was quite a wallop."