Whispering Hills of Love (American Wilderness Series Romance Book 3) (30 page)

Lastly, William retrieved the tomahawk that nearly struck Kelly from the brave’s outstretched hand. It could come in handy someday. He stared down at the Indian’s back wound, still oozing dark blood. The little lead ball wedged somewhere within this brave gave Kelly enough time to draw and aim her pistol, saving Kelly from a horrific death. He would never forget the image of the brave raising his deadly weapon with the intent to slay his beloved wife. He shook his head wanting to rid himself of the chilling vision.

As he stuck the hatchet in his belt, he peered over at her, the sight of her soothing to his frayed mind. He watched as she grabbed the sack of stolen apples and then picked up a native’s bow and a quiver filled with arrows. Then she found another full quiver, and put both across her back. He shook his head, not surprised at his plucky wife. Evidently, she intended to learn how to use a bow and arrow.

With the forest raining leaves down around them, Merrill carried his daughter, and they all ate apples in companionable silence as they marched side-by-side back toward the resting horses. Riley trailed behind, his tail wagging. After just a few bites from her apple, Hannah laid her head on her father’s shoulder.

William suspected the child would be asleep before they even reached their mounts.

His prediction proved right. William gently took Hannah from her father and after Merrill mounted, he handed the sleeping girl
up to him. “Hopefully, she’ll sleep until we reach home,” William said.

“She’s done in, as I’m sure you both are too,” Merrill said as they settled into their saddles. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am for your help.”

“It’s Kelly you should thank,” William said. “I’m just doing my job, but it was her wits that allowed us to find your daughter. And her bravery surprised even me.” He turned to face Kelly. “How on earth did you manage to kill that brave that followed you?”

“That nasty fellow was the one who hurt Riley when the Indians raided our home. I was so mad at him I was beside myself. I think he intended to kill Riley and take him with them. So I traded my shawl for Riley, sticking it through the portal. When he snuck up behind me on the trail, I shot my pistol at him. But since I was horseback, my aim was off and I missed. When he reached out to pull me off my horse, I had to do something. I was desperate. I remembered I had the tomahawk Sam gave me and how he once foiled an attacker by stopping suddenly and hurling his hatchet backwards.” She described what she’d done and then added boldly, “I just pretended I was Captain Sam for a moment.”

William chuckled. That didn’t surprise William. He’d done the same thing a time or two. His warrior brother was an admirable hero for a reason. On their long journey to Kentucky, they had all learned a lot from Sam. “I can’t wait to tell Sam what you did,” William said, smiling broadly. “I’m enormously proud of you wife.” The strong woman he always knew she was deep down inside her had emerged fully. “But please try not to put yourself in such jeopardy again though. I swear my heart would not be up to the strain.”

He nearly lost her twice. Three if you counted her father
taking her back. The events she went through would have tried the mettle of even the bravest of souls. But she had kept her head and found her courage, refusing to be defeated, no matter what obstacles she faced. And Kelly proved that strength was not limited to the men in their family.

He couldn’t be more proud of her. But still, he couldn’t help the scolding look he gave her.

She raised her chin and stared in his direction. “I know I took a terrible chance. But I wouldn’t have gone after them if weren’t for Hannah. William, if you could have heard her pitiful cries, you would understand why I did what I did. It broke my heart when they rode off with her. I just had to help her. I came up with a plan and just carried it out.”

“You were very strong today Kelly,” William told her.

“You never know how strong you can be until being strong is the only option you have,” Kelly replied.

After riding a couple of miles, they reached the spot where the dead Indian lay with the tomahawk in his chest. William was leading two of the horses he’d given Merrill, so Kelly jumped off Ginger, put her boot up against the dead man’s hip, leaned over, and retrieved her hatchet. “I might need this again,” she said, looking up at William.

“Lord, I hope not,” William said, shaking his head. He knew there was something special about Kelly from the very beginning. But he had no idea then just how special she was. His heart swelled with pride for his strong brave wife. She would do well on the frontier.

“Hannah’s mother and I will be forever grateful for your bravery Mrs. Wyllie. And I promise you, when our daughter is
older, she will learn of your courage and how much our family owes you,” Merrill said, his voice cracking and filled with deep gratitude.

“Whatever strength I had today came from God,” Kelly said, lifting her gaze heavenward.

“Then we will thank God as well,” Merrill replied.

“I believe we all need to thank Him,” William said.

CHAPTER 30

U
nder a canopy of glittering stars, William and Kelly—cold, hungry, and weary—finally arrived at the cabin. She looked so drowsy, he insisted she just go into the cabin and lie down while he took care of the horses. When he finished, he warmed some corn cakes and made bacon and coffee.

When the food was ready, he reluctantly woke her to eat a bite and then helped her to a chair at the table.

As they ate, his eyes searched her pale face, reaching into her thoughts. Unusually pensive, something occupied her keen mind. He understood she was too tired to talk, but something else lingered behind her eyes and weak smile. Was she reluctant now to stay at the cabin alone? He couldn’t blame her.

In truth, that concerned him too. Women on the frontier often managed the homestead or fought bravely to defend their homes while their husbands worked, hunted, or served in the militia. But could he leave Kelly alone, while he tended to his duties, to fend for herself? The possibility of further threats to her safety made his stomach clench.

He decided to wait a day or so, until she was well-rested, to
broach the subject.

The next morning, before leaving, he made sure Kelly’s rifle and pistol were loaded and he left one of his two pistols with her as well. He would buy another and more powder and ball when he got to town. He’d been wanting one of the new Ketland brass barrel smooth bore pistols anyway.

After a lingering kiss, he reluctantly left Kelly and hurried into town, wondering how Colonel Byrd and his men fared at Fort Logan. He hoped that by now, they’d reached the fort safely and somehow averted a major battle.

With the militia gone, Boonesborough stood unprotected. He would have to do something about that. He urged Smoke to a canter and soon neared the fort. As the morning sun lit the scarred battlements and blood-stained walls of the fortress, he remembered the many brave men and women who fought for a place in the wilderness and a new future for their families. It astonished him that in a land so vast men could not seem to find a way to live together peacefully.

Opening his office door, he found Deputy Mitchell already there organizing some of their paperwork. Still a pimpled face young man, the deputy wasn’t experienced enough yet to handle serious situations, but his dedication and willingness to learn made up for his lack of grit. The office smelled of wood, ink, and the grease Mitchell used on his shiny black hair.

Mitchell looked up, holding a turkey quill in his ink-stained hand. “Sheriff Wyllie,” the Deputy greeted enthusiastically and stood, “you’ve returned safely!”

“It was an arduous, but successful mission. We all escaped harm and recovered the little girl. She’s now safe at home.”

“That’s wonderful news. We were all hoping for such a positive outcome.” Mitchell pointed to the paper sitting on his small writing desk. “I was just registering a complaint about another stolen pig.”

One more stolen pig. Somewhere out there, there was a hog thief he needed to catch. Deciding to let the stolen animal wait, William asked, “How many men do we have guarding the fort?”

“Well none. As you know, they all left with the Colonel.”

He thought through the men he’d grown to know well since arriving in Boonesborough. The only one he could think of who might be able to advise him was Lucky. “Deputy, go find Lucky McGintey, if he’s not out hunting, and let him know I need his counsel here.” As a long hunter and lifelong companion of Daniel Boone, McGintey knew more about Kentucky than just about anybody. And as William’s closest friend, he could trust what Lucky had to say.

Mitchell turned to leave and William called after him. “And ask Tom Wolfe to come as well if he is able.”

The land speculator had a good knowledge of the latest political developments and native issues facing Kentucky. William would just have to ignore, for the time being, how Wolfe and his heartless mother had treated Kelly. He rolled his eyes at himself, realizing he wasn’t being fair. Mrs. Wolfe was just looking out for her grandchildren. He needed to forget what happened. The important thing was that Kelly was well now and, thanks be to God, safe.

While he waited for McGintey and Wolfe, William paced restlessly about the room. He thought about his brothers and the rest of their family and worried that Indians might be threatening their homes as well. He desperately wanted to go to them to be
sure they were all right or to help them if they were facing trouble. But now he had Kelly to think of too. He couldn’t risk taking her into an area where hostilities might be developing. They would just have to wait to visit his family in the spring.

He couldn’t leave now anyway. With Colonel Byrd and the militia gone, it was up to him to ensure Boonesborough’s safety. He held a sacred trust, put in his hands by the townspeople and by Daniel Boone. He peered down at his hands, feeling the weight of that trust. Even if an attack on Boonesborough was unlikely, he couldn’t risk the lives of even one family. He had to get the town prepared. He would need to send runners to all the remote homesteads to warn them to be extra cautious. Fortunately, most people lived in town or close to town.

Perhaps his concerns were premature. From the rider’s description, the Indians had killed and scalped only one man. Maybe the natives would withdraw once Colonel Byrd and his men reached Fort Logan. But would the Indians realize the militia’s presence there meant Boonesborough stood vulnerable?

His deputy soon arrived with McGintey and Wolfe. The two were both already aware of the incident with the girl’s capture and the situation at Fort Logan. In Boonesborough, good news traveled fast, but bad news traveled even faster. William filled them in on the details of the girl’s rescue.

“The Shawnee don’t steal white women or children anymore,” McGintey said. “Big Eagle made a promise to Daniel Boone and that Chief at least keeps his word.”

“I suspected as much, but I’m glad to hear it from you,” William said. “So you think the child’s adductors were just a small band of native outlaws?” Like white settlers, there were unprincipled men among the natives as well. Unfortunately, more
often than not, their actions reflected negatively on all natives. William wondered why that wasn’t the case for wicked white men.

“That would be my opinion, humble though it is,” McGintey pronounced. “I could be wrong, but I don’t think we have anything to fear here.”

William turned to Wolfe. “What’s your opinion of the situation at Fort Logan?”

“Fort Logan has never fallen in an Indian attack. They have a secret tunnel from the fort to the springhouse, which covers the nearby spring. The fort’s occupants can obtain water, undetected, in time of siege. And by now, their winter stores of food would have already been laid up,” Wolfe explained. “The land around the fort has been cleared of all trees and growth so Indians have no cover. Even if they are under a serious attack, with the arrival of the militia, things should be well under control soon.”

William was relieved to hear that. “Lucky, how long do you think it will take the militia to get there and get back?”

“Well, Fort Logan lays quite a ways yonder. I’d say roughly 40 miles south. To get there they would go through Grant’s place and then Myres Mills’ place. Tell me, Deputy, were the militia all horseback when they left?”

“Yes,” Mitchell replied, “although some of their mounts didn’t look like they could cover more than twenty miles in a day, at best.”

“Well, that means about two days there and two days back,” Lucky concluded. “And if they spend a couple of days at the fort, they’ll be gone at least a week.”

“A week.” William repeated. “I’m concerned about leaving Boonesborough undefended for so long. I suggest we gather the
town men under the big elm and recruit volunteers to man the fort.” He suggested the location because the area under the big tree’s outstretched branches had served as Boonesborough’s outdoor meeting area for years.

“Sir, I don’t think that would be wise,” Wolfe disagreed, his bushy brows drawn together. “You are significantly overstepping your authority. The defense of the town is a function of the militia, not the sheriff.”

“I don’t give a damn whose responsibility it is, just as long as it’s taken care of. And I’m the man to see it done.”

“But it’s been years since our fort has been under attack. We have a treaty in place,” Wolfe persisted.

William placed his hands on his hips and widened his stance. “I agree, Sir, but I am prone to be cautious. Better to be prepared than caught unawares. And Indians are not the only potential threat on the frontier. You saw what those six unruly murdering buffalo hunters did to this town before my brothers and I finally stopped them. And there could be natural threats too, like wildfires spreading from the forest or the Kentucky River flooding the town again if we get a big rain. We need guards stationed in each of the blockhouses with their eyes open and their weapons loaded. Spread the word, noon, under the elm.”

“That should leave enough time to let everyone know,” Mitchell said. “I’ll get some help notifying all the outlying homesteads to be on guard.” The Deputy turned on his heel and strode to the door.