My Savage Heart (The MacQuaid Brothers) Page 13

  She no longer thought at all.

  Caroline registered what he was doing as if it happened to another. His fumbling attempts to open the flap on his breeches. The way he jerked up her shift. And still the overwhelming weight of his body.

  “Damn it, girl, do something!”

  The angered intensity of his words brought Caroline back to reality with a thud. She suddenly realized that the pain she’d expected... the pain of his entry... had yet to occur.

  With an animal-like growl he rolled off her. His movements jerky, he grabbed his shriveled manhood, pulling and squeezing the flaccid flesh. The sounds he made disgusted her, as did the spittle drooling from his mouth. But it wasn’t until he glanced up, his eyes meeting hers that she understood the significance of his dysfunction.

  The blow came so quickly, Caroline had no time to prepare herself. Pain exploded along the side of her face, and she tasted her own blood. Before she could move, he hit her again.

  “Damn your uppity ways,” he yelled. “See what you’ve done!”

  But Caroline could see nothing through the red haze of suffering. She raised her arms, deflecting his next blow, which only enraged him. He couldn’t seem to coordinate the stream of obscenities he spewed her way with striking her. And right now he appeared more prone to vent his anger with words.

  Caroline rolled away from him as hard as she could. She fell from the bed, landing on the wood floor with a thud. But she ignored the agony in her hip as she scrambled to her feet. She sensed more than saw him lunge after her. He managed to catch a ragged edge of her shift, and Caroline heard the fabric rend. But it didn’t change her focus.

  The top drawer.

  The pulls were slippery, and Caroline realized dispassionately that it was her own blood that made them so. She yanked, pulling the drawer open as he hobbled toward her. Her hands were frantic now, digging through the cotton shifts and stockings. She almost gave up to run from the room when her fingers folded around the carved bone handle.

  The expression on his face when she whipped around, the blade of Wolf’s knife pointed toward his bloated midsection was almost comedic. He managed to retrieve his crutch and stood braced against it now, his anger tempered with caution.

  “Give me that knife, girl.”

  “Get away from me.” It was heavy and her arm trembled with the effort to hold it steady.

  “You’re going to go getting someone hurt with that thing.” His eyes narrowed.

  “Get back.” Caroline gave a quick jab, and he did move, though not as fast and far as she wished. “Out of my room.”

  “Now aren’t you forgetting this is my house, girl? And you’re my wife.”

  “That doesn’t mean I shall take this... this...” Caroline blinked back the tears.

  “Now I admit I might have been a little hard on you.” The knife seemed to have sobered him some.

  “If you ever strike me again, I’ll kill you. I swear I will.”

  “Now you’re going and talking like one of those savages. Is that where you got the knife? Did my boy give that thing to you?”

  Yes, she wanted to scream at him. He gave me this and he gave me much more. But she didn’t. Because his next words left her nearly speechless.

  “I guess that fancy English lawyer didn’t tell you everything.” His eyes narrowed. “There’s only one way Seven Pines or anything else will ever be yours.” He hobbled closer. “You must bear me a son.”

  Blood pounded in Caroline’s head. “You... you already have sons.”

  “Phew,” he snorted. “My first didn’t have sense enough to stay clear of a losing cause. The second hasn’t the stomach to run a business. And we both know what Wolf is.”

  “Get out of here now.”

  At first she thought he wasn’t going to comply. He stood still a moment looking at her, his hateful light eyes expressionless. Then he maneuvered himself around. Caroline stood her ground, watching until he disappeared through the doorway. Cautiously she crept forward, waiting till she heard his crutch on the stairs before shutting and locking the door.

  She forced herself not to think as she placed the knife on the commode beside the candle. Then with unsteady hands she splashed water into the porcelain bowl. After stripping off the torn shift, she used it to clean her face. The water stung; and in the washbowl, it became a coppery red. Moving slowly to the dresser, she removed a clean shift and pulled it over her head, then collapsed onto the bed.

  The sheets smelled of her husband. With her remaining strength, Caroline rose and stripped them. Afterward she lay on the bare mattress. The tears came then, hot and heavy, burning their way across her torn skin.

  Pounding at the door woke her with a start. She moaned aloud as she reached for the knife only to let her hand fall when she heard Sadayi’s voice.

  “Caroline. Caroline, are you all right?”

  “Yes.” Her voice sounded strained. “Please stop all the noise.” It was morning. She could see light through the one eye she could slit open. “Don’t wake Mary.”

  “She’s already awake,” Sadayi began when Caroline finally opened the door. When she saw Caroline, her eyes widened. “She sent me to find out why you didn’t come this morning,” she continued calmly. It wasn’t until she pushed through the door, closing and locking it that she put her arm around Caroline’s shoulders. “What happened to you?”

  Caroline just shook her head and tried to move from the awkward embrace.

  “It was the inadu?” When Caroline looked up questioningly Sadayi continued. “It means snake. It is the Cherokee name for Robert MacQuaid.”

  Despite her discomfort, Caroline took some degree of pleasure in hearing her husband referred to that way. But she shook her head again and moved toward the chair. “I don’t want Mary to know. She has enough to—”

  “She’s stronger than you think.” Sadayi pulled clean sheets from the wardrobe. “At the moment she’s a lot stronger than you.” She snapped the sheet across the bed.

  “Just tell her I’m not feeling well,” Caroline whispered as Sadayi led her back to bed. Certainly no lie. She felt awful.

  Caroline didn’t even realize the Cherokee woman had gone till she returned to the room. She carried a bucket of water and after emptying the bowl into the chamber pot, filled it again. From around her neck she took a leather pouch. Opening it, she produced a pinch of brown powder.

  “What are you doing?”

  “This will make the swelling go down,” Sadayi said as she stirred the herbs into the water.

  The cool liquid soothed as she blotted it onto Caroline’s skin.

  “Do you hurt anyplace else?”

  “My hip.” Caroline didn’t protest as Sadayi lifted her shift. When she heard the older woman’s tsking sound, she closed her eyes. “I... I may be with child,” she said, and felt Sadayi’s stare on her. “Is there...? Do you think the baby is hurt?”

  The Cherokee woman’s examination was brief. When she finished, she pulled the shift down and the blanket up.

  “There is no blood. But I can help you purge the child from your body.”

  “No.” Caroline’s arms folded protectively across her stomach. “Don’t hurt my child.”

  Sadayi said nothing as she stirred something into a tin cup. “Drink,” she commanded, lifting Caroline’s shoulders.

  “This won’t—”

  She shook her head. “It will only make you stronger.”

  Caroline stayed in her room for a sennight with only Sadayi to care for her. The Cherokee tonic did seem to make her stronger and the mixture she put on Caroline’s face helped heal the cuts. But she still looked as if she’d been beaten.

  “Which is exactly what happened to you,” Sadayi said in disgust, as Caroline turned away from the mirror.

  Caroline ignored her words. “But I suppose I shall have to face Mary sometime.”

  “She’s planning to get up and come to you.”

  “Even though you told her she might catch my fever
?”

  “She is concerned.”

  Caroline took a deep breath and nodded. Sadayi and Walini had concocted the story that Caroline was suffering from a fever to explain her keeping to her bed. Robert had neither questioned the excuse nor inquired about her health. His lack of concern meant nothing to Caroline. She still slept with the knife beside her bed in case he returned.

  The time alone had given her the opportunity to think. Her first reaction was to flee, as far and as fast as she could. Anything to rid herself of Robert MacQuaid. And if there were only herself to consider she would. But there was Edward... Mary... her baby.

  Caroline smoothed her skirts and glanced toward Sadayi. “I suppose I’m ready.”

  “My heavens, what happened to you?” Mary sat in bed leaning against pillows when Caroline entered her room.

  “I’ve been ill.” Caroline lingered by the door, staying in its shadows as much as possible. “It isn’t a good idea for me to get too close.”

  Mary brushed away that explanation with a wave of her hand. “Your face? It’s bruised and—”

  “Oh that.” Caroline managed to laugh as she absently touched her still tender cheek and lip. “’Tis the silliest thing. I fell from my bed while trying to get up. ’Twas when the fever was at its worst.”

  Whether or not Mary believed her, she said nothing to dispute it. That was not the case with Wolf.

  He appeared as before, when she least expected him. Caroline had been out of her room for days, working alongside Sadayi and Walini preparing Seven Pines for the coming winter. During those pleasantly chilly days, Caroline began to feel better. She was healing. She rarely saw Robert. He stayed to the parlor and his room, never venturing outside. Sadayi reported that his leg was worse, but Caroline felt no pity. Her main concern was that one day he would denounce her child as a bastard. But for the moment she didn’t know what she could do about that.

  So it was that, early one morning in October, Wolf found her walking along the creek. The sun was barely risen and an ethereal mist hung close to the ground, swirling about her skirts with each step. Overhead a hawk circled, and Caroline glanced up to follow his progress.

  “Don’t you realize how easily you could be captured out here by yourself?”

  Caroline whirled around at the sound of his voice. She’d been thinking of him and wondered if her mind had conjured him up. But he was flesh and blood... and wet. The pewtery light reflected off beads of water that clung to his unbound hair, his naked chest.

  Caroline’s breath caught at the sight of him. He was dressed only in a breechcloth and leggings; and though she shivered beneath her brocaded gown and shawl, he seemed unaffected by the early morning chill. She’d seen him like this before, on their trip to the frontier. It was his custom to rise early and bathe in the nearest water. Apparently it didn’t matter how cold that water might be. “What... what are you doing here?” He tilted his head and Caroline watched a drop of water from his hair slide down the smooth bronzed skin of his chest to disappear into the leather thong at his waist.

  He opened his mouth to answer, and Caroline was drawn to step closer... out of the willow shadows that shielded her. Wolf’s expression darkened, and he closed the space between them in three long strides. “When did he do this to you?”

  “I... I don’t know what you mean?” Caroline had come to think of her face as presentable. The cuts were nearly healed, and the bruises no more than a slight yellow tinge.

  “Don’t lie to me, Caroline.” Wolf cupped her shoulders, turning her face into the sun now exploding over the treetops.

  “I fell. The fever made me disoriented,” she began, but her words of denial died when he gave her a shake.

  “You sound like Alkini, my mother, protecting him. Lying.” He dropped his hands and turned away abruptly. “I should kill the bastard.”

  “No!” Caroline grabbed his arm. It was hard; and despite the sheen of water, she felt the heat of his skin radiate through her body. “Don’t you see, you can’t do that.”

  His head whipped around, dark eyes burning into her with their intensity, but he said nothing.

  Caroline swallowed and tried to speak rationally. “If you... hurt him, it will be you who suffers.”

  “And you?”

  Ashamed by what she must admit, Caroline’s lashes fluttered shut. “Yes. I shall suffer, too.”

  He grunted and twisted away, but Caroline did not let him retreat. Gathering her skirts, she ran ahead, blocking his way. “It is not what you think. I care nothing for him, but he is still my husband. We are joined by God.”

  “My people believe that a man and woman stay together because it is their choice. If the woman no longer wishes to stay, she returns to her family.”

  If only it were that simple. Caroline took a deep breath and allowed her eyes to meet his. “I have no family in England, but a brother who cannot provide for me,” she told him honestly. “My family is now here. Mary and you... even Robert.”

  He stared at her so long, Caroline thought he would say nothing. She yearned to wrap her arms around his strong body and make him understand. Tell him everything, all her reasons, but she knew better than that.

  “When I was older, after she died, I heard that he had beaten my mother. But I thought it was because she was Cherokee.” He shook his head and looked out across the creek. “I never thought he would do this to you.” But you should have, a small voice within him said. What did you imagine he would do when he discovered she was not a virgin?

  “’Tisn’t your fault. And you needn’t worry. It shan’t happen again.”

  “You are right about that.” With those words, Wolf turned and strode toward the house.

  It took Caroline a moment to realize what he was about, but when she did, she hurried after him. “What are you going to do?” There was a knife handle, carved like the one he’d given her, sticking out of his leggings, and a tomahawk stuck in the thong about his waist. “No, no. You can’t kill him.” She lunged for his arm, but he stepped out of her reach and quickened his pace.

  “I have no intention of making you a widow,” he said, his tone full of contempt. “You may keep your precious husband.”

  “But...” Caroline hesitated only a moment before following Wolf into the house. He burst into the first floor bedroom without knocking, crossed the room and grabbed an obviously startled Robert.

  “What the hell?” Robert struggled, but Wolf held him firmly by his bunched-up nightshirt.

  “Hell is where you’ll be if you take a hand to her again. Do you understand me, old man?”

  Robert’s grizzled head swung around, and his gaze caught Caroline. “What’s she been telling you?”

  “Nothing.” Caroline moved into the room. “I didn’t tell him anything.” She didn’t want Wolf to know why Robert beat her. It was best he not think she and her husband had never consummated their marriage. It was best if no one knew that.

  “She didn’t have to say a word.” Wolf shook the whiskey-bloated body, trying hard to control his desire to wrap his hands around the flabby neck. “I recognized your handiwork.”

  Robert groaned and reached for his leg when Wolf lifted him higher.

  “Stop it!” Caroline rushed into the room. It smelled of sour whiskey and an even sourer body. “It won’t happen again,” she insisted, but neither man paid her any heed.

  Wolf smoothly transferred his burden to one hand. With the other he whipped out the tomahawk, holding it threateningly above Robert’s head. “I have no doubts it will not happen again.” His voice grew lower. “And do you know why?”

  Robert’s response was little more than a squeak.

  “Because if you do, I shall return and sever the top of your head with this.” The honed blade glistened in the first rays of sun shining through the window as he twisted it meaningfully in his palm.

  Robert’s pale eyes bulged, but Wolf took little pleasure in his fear, except where it emphasized his point. With no care for his
leg, Wolf dropped the old man back on his mattress. He fell with a flop.

  Turning, Wolf replaced the tomahawk, then strode by a startled Caroline. He was out the door and nearly into the surrounding pine forest when he heard her call his name. Wishing he could continue as if the trees had absorbed her words, Wolf stopped. She came running to his side.

  Caroline’s first impulse was to scream at him for confronting Robert. But when she reached him, she couldn’t waste time on that. He’d done what he thought he must, and she was grateful for his concern.

  “Where are you going?” It suddenly seemed more important to know that than to chastise him.

  “To the Overhill Towns. It is what I came to tell you. Most of the Middle and Lower Town Headmen have agreed to speak with the governor. I carry their message to the mountains.”

  “That’s good, isn’t it?”

  A ghost of a smile flirted with his sensual lips as he raised his hand to cup her cheek. “Yes, Caroline, that is good. Perhaps we can lessen the chances of war between my people and the English.”

  Then as if he remembered who he was... and who she was, he let his hand fall to his side. “It is still no reason to take foolish chances. Stay close to the house, Caroline.”

  She took a deep breath and nodded. Though she knew there was no choice, she didn’t want him to leave. But he seemed to know reality better than she.

  “Go in to your husband now,” he said, before turning and jogging toward the woods.

  Caroline watched him till he disappeared among the trees, and then she reentered the house. But she didn’t go to Robert. Instead, she slowly climbed the stairs to her room. Once inside she locked the door and allowed the impassioned tears to fall.

  Nine

  The screams woke her with a start. No, not screams. Shrieks. Wild savage shrieks that had Caroline’s heart pounding and skin crawling before her body jackknifed up.

  Her first instinct was to grab for the knife on the commode. The knife Wolf had given her. The handle felt solid cradled in her hand, anchoring her when all her other senses were scattered. Who or what was making that terrible noise? She jumped from bed, running to the window. Outside, the night glowed a red-orange, grotesque reflections dancing on the walls.