My Savage Heart (The MacQuaid Brothers) Page 19

  “Keep pushing, Mary. I can see the baby.” Caroline leaned forward to give her friend’s arm a reassuring pat. “You’re doing a wonderful job.” Though she doubted Mary could hear her murmured words over the sounds she made as she pushed with all her strength, Caroline found them comforting. Besides, maybe Mary did realize what she said, and maybe it would keep her trying a little longer.

  Because her strength was ebbing. “Come Mary. You can’t stop now. You’ve a baby to birth.” The cry that tore through Mary’s slight body raised the hair on Caroline’s nape. It also exposed the baby’s head. “Just a little bit more. There,” Caroline gasped as the slippery baby slid into her hands. Tears sprang to her eyes, but it was with a laugh that she turned to Wolf when he came bursting through the door.

  “It’s a girl.” Caroline carried the tiny crying child around to the side of the bed. “Mary you have a daughter.” But there was no glad adulation. As if she’d done all she possibly could, Mary lay quiet, her head resting listlessly upon the pillow. Her breathing was shallow, and no amount of calling her name would awaken her.

  “Raff, come here.” He was by her side before she’d finished her sentence, and Caroline turned, handing the squirming infant toward him.

  “You want me to hold her?” His tone indicated he thought she’d lost her mind.

  But Caroline just nodded toward the swaddling of linen laid out on the chest. “Fetch that and hurry,” she said and he seemed to understand that there was no choice. The baby fit comfortably in his out-stretched hands.

  While he stood beside the bed, Caroline worked quickly on Mary, pressing the afterbirth from her body and tying off the cord. Occasionally she glanced at Mary, hoping to see some improvement in her color and breathing. There was none. Wolf did look better though, less like he would swoon onto the floor.

  “Is she supposed to be this small?” he asked when Caroline wrapped the tiny body snugly in the toweling.

  “I don’t think so. But she was born too early.” Even with her small size, the baby seemed better off than her mother. Caroline handed the wrapped bundle back to the tall man and dipped a scrap of cloth in the bucket by the bed. The water was barely tepid, but that was better than hot she decided as she wiped it gently across Mary’s face.

  Not knowing exactly what to do, Wolf started pacing, holding the baby out in front of him as if she were made of glass. He was aware of Caroline leaning over the bed, crooning to his sister-in-law, and wished there was something he could do to help, but was almost afraid to take his eyes off the tiny blood-smeared baby cradled in his hands. He wanted to ask if she was cut or something but figured Caroline would know if something needed to be done... at least he hoped she would.

  He was wondering where he’d left his musket when Caroline called him to the bed. The baby wasn’t whimpering anymore, and Wolf was glad he didn’t have to hand a crying baby over to her mother when he noticed Mary was awake.

  “Let me hold her.” Mary’s voice was weak. Caroline took the infant, laying her carefully on Mary’s chest. The wisp of a smile that lifted Mary’s lips was gone almost before Wolf saw it, but he couldn’t help responding in kind. It wasn’t till he noted the serious expression wrinkling Caroline’s brows that he sobered.

  But Caroline went on talking in that soft, low way she had, telling Mary how beautiful her daughter was and how proud she should be.

  It wasn’t till he left the room to look for his musket, thinking he must have left it in the parlor, that he guessed anything was wrong.

  Caroline was bent over the bed, cleaning Mary... finally using the water he’d heated and reheated... so he was surprised when she followed him into the hallway, shutting the door behind her.

  The only light came from the single candle he’d lit in the parlor, but it showed him enough of Caroline’s expression to see her distress. “What is it?”

  “I’m concerned about Mary.” Caroline wrapped her arms tightly about her waist and walked to the window. Outside the moonlight silvered the oak leaves that clung stubbornly to the limbs despite the cold air. She watched a raccoon scurry across the clearing before turning back to Wolf. He stood silently by the fireplace. “She’s so weak.”

  “Perhaps she’s tired,” he responded with a lift of his brow. “You’re exhausted yourself, aren’t you?”

  Caroline’s laugh was self-deprecating. “She certainly has a right to be worse off than me.” Her gaze sought again the peace and beauty of the outside. “I just wish I knew more about caring for her.”

  “You did fine.”

  The words were spoken low and close. Caroline hadn’t heard him move, but now when she looked around he was right behind her, looming over her. His nearness was disconcerting enough to make her twist back toward the window. Her head dropped forward till what was left of her topknot brushed against the chilled pane.

  “Mary was lucky to have you here.” Wolf resisted the urge to taste the delicate curve of her exposed neck.

  “I didn’t know what to do. If she wouldn’t have told me...” Caroline let the rest of that thought go unsaid.

  “But she did tell you,”

  With that she looked around at him, her blue eyes serious. “I think you were right when you saw me in Charles Town. I don’t belong here.”

  “What made you come to that conclusion?”

  He hadn’t actually taken a step away from her, it only seemed as if he had. “Oddly enough it wasn’t the attack, or even being kept prisoner.”

  “What then?”

  Caroline took a deep breath. “Knowing that Mary might die... and I wasn’t able to save her.”

  “Don’t you think you’re taking a lot on yourself?”

  “’Tis an odd thing for you to say.” When he raised his brow quizzically, she continued. “You seem to think you’re responsible for keeping peace between the Cherokee and the English.”

  His grin was brief. “We are not discussing me. It is you who seem to have some mistaken notion that you are not suited for this place.”

  “I’m only accepting what you’ve known from the first.”

  “I was wrong.”

  “What?” Caroline’s face tilted up toward his.

  “I mistook your fragile appearance as an indication you had little inner strength. It was an error on my part.”

  “Why do I feel this apology does not come easy for you.”

  The smile lasted longer this time. It transformed his face. Still breathtakingly handsome, he didn’t appear so fierce. “I have made many mistakes, Caroline.”

  Was one of them making love with her? Caroline turned toward the window before she was tempted to ask. Her eyes drifted shut when she felt his hand cup her shoulder.

  “I will take a look outside. When I return, I shall sit with Mary awhile so you can rest.”

  Caroline could still feel the warmth of his touch after she watched him skirt the clearing and disappear into the shadowy forest. Only then did she return to the downstairs bedroom.

  Mary’s fever came on the third day.

  The night before as Caroline walked the fretting baby back and forth across the parlor, Wolf had asked when she thought Mary and the baby could be moved. He was anxious to see them safely behind the log walls of Fort Prince George.

  “I don’t know,” Caroline had snapped, then stopped in the middle of the rug and turned to him. It wasn’t his fault Mary showed no improvement. Or that the baby seemed to whimper all the time. But he knew as well as she that Mary couldn’t travel. She could barely make it out of bed to attend to her private needs.

  Without saying a word, he’d stepped forward and took the tiny bundle from her arms. The infant didn’t stop fussing but at least Caroline could sit down. She was so tired of late, and knowing the reason didn’t help.

  She had apologized for her tone. He had accepted with a nod of his head. And they’d decided to discuss the possibility in the morning.

  Caroline had set up a pallet in the room Mary used. She slept lightly,
listening as a mother would for any sounds the baby made. Mary had named the child Colleen for Logan’s mother. When Colleen fussed, Caroline rose, and after changing her diaper, carried her to Mary to nurse.

  Those were the only times Mary seemed to have any energy. She’d bring her hand up to rub the baby’s fuzzy head and croon to her softly.

  “She really is beautiful,” Mary would whisper to Caroline. “She’s like her father.”

  Caroline always agreed, telling Mary how wonderful the small child was, and how happy Logan would be when he came home. And all the while she worried that Mary didn’t seem to improve, and the baby only suckled halfheartedly.

  But this morning, Mary didn’t say anything. Dawn was just beginning to lighten the sky outside, though she’d heard Wolf leave the house for his morning swim before Colleen started whimpering.

  “Mary,” Caroline said as she rocked the fussing baby in her arms. “Your daughter is hungry.”

  Mary’s moan sent shivers down Caroline’s spine. Quickly she put the baby back in the hickory cradle that had been her father’s. This brought a louder wail from the child, but Caroline paid no mind as she leaned over the bed. Mary’s skin was hot and dry to the touch. Burning.

  Not knowing what else to do, Caroline rushed to the pitcher on the commode, but it was empty. The pail was gone, but she couldn’t wait for Wolf to finish bathing and come back with more water.

  “I have to go to the river,” she announced though neither of the room’s other occupants seemed to understand or care. “I’ll be right back.”

  With that, she picked up her skirts and ran for the back door. The trees stood out in bold relief against the paler sky and the ground was covered with a light frost that made her slippered feet slide. But she kept running toward the river.

  A sound caught her attention to the right, and she ran toward it thinking it was Wolf returning from his swim. “It’s Mary,” she called. “She has the fever. I need—”

  The word water was drowned out by her gasp as she ran into the arms of a dark-skinned savage.

  Thirteen

  An involuntary scream tore from her body as naked arms clasped around her. Instinctively, Caroline knew it was hopeless to fight. Her assailant towered over her; and though his body didn’t feel as hard as Wolf s, he was easily stronger than she.

  But Caroline wasn’t the same woman who might have swooned at such an onslaught months ago. She struggled with all her might, scratching and slapping, biting, till she’d worked her right hand free of his grasp. Wriggling, she managed to turn herself slightly. Then she clawed at her skirts, her heart pounding in her ears.

  When her fingers found the slit in her overskirt a bubble of excitement forced aside some of her panic. The pistol butt felt smooth as her hand clasped around it. With all her strength she tried to angle the weapon toward the man who continued to hold her up against him. She couldn’t manage to pull the gun from her pocket, but that didn’t matter. She would blow a hole through her skirts to kill her attacker. If she could only point the pistol toward him.

  “What the hell...?”

  Caroline was too caught up in her struggle to notice anything until she was unceremoniously dropped to the hard ground. Pain shot through her shoulder, and she could feel the air whoosh from her body, but her arm was free. Free to aim the pistol.

  A hand clasped around hers, skirts and all, an instant before she pulled the trigger.

  Sobbing, she tried to free her hand, but it was useless. The grip on her was unyielding.

  “Caroline!”

  Her head jerked up. She saw Wolf leaning over her, his black hair wet and slicked back from his face, and she cried out with relief... then fear. Couldn’t he see the danger?

  But he seemed unconcerned as he knelt beside her. His wet arm snaked around her shoulder though he didn’t loosen his grip on her hand. “It’s all right, Caroline,” he said.

  “But—” Her explanation to him that there was an Indian, bent on harming them was interrupted by a string of low, guttural words that she didn’t understand. She whipped her head around to see the Indian who attacked her looming above Wolf and her. Fear shot through her again, but to her dismay, Wolf laughed. She could feel the vibrations through her body as he pulled her to her feet.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked as he carefully extracted the pistol from her grasp, then pulling it from its hiding place in the folds of her skirt. She thought he might aim it at the tall imposing Indian, but he merely let it hang by his side while his finger combed pine needles from her tangled hair.

  More guttural words came from the stranger, and this time he held his hand out toward Wolf who examined it with a shake of his head.

  “What is he saying?” Caroline demanded. Perhaps Wolf acted as if there was nothing to fear, but he hadn’t been accosted by this fearsome-looking Indian. “And why are you just standing there?”

  “He says you are a wildcat.” Wolf’s eyes held hers for a moment.

  “Me?” Caroline’s chin jutted up with indignation. “Ask him why he attacked me!”

  More words from the Indian.

  “He seems to feel it was you who attacked him.” Wolf leaned forward giving the Indian’s finger a cursory examination, making a tsking sound with his mouth as he did. “Gulegi wonders why the white woman found it necessary to bite him.”

  The amusement in Wolf’s dark eyes annoyed her. If this Indian was a friend, she had no way of knowing it. Besides he didn’t exactly step from the path and introduce himself. And she didn’t appreciate Wolf making light of her fear. Her heart still pounded like the drums she’d heard in the Indian town. Caroline stepped from Wolf’s loose embrace, flinging curls back from her face as she did. “He attacked me,” she stated calmly, staring straight at her assailant. “I was running to find you—” Oh my God? How could she have forgotten?

  Caroline clutched Wolf’s arm. “Mary has a fever. She’s burning up. I need water,” she yelled as she turned on her heel. Not waiting for his reply Caroline picked up her skirts and hurried back toward the house.

  Wolf said a few words to the man who was still examining his finger and followed. By the time he reached the bedroom, Caroline had scooped up the baby and held the crying infant to her shoulder. They approached the bed together.

  Wolf didn’t need to touch his brother’s wife to know she was feverish. Her skin looked parchment-thin and dry.

  Caroline shook her head slowly. “I need water,” she reminded. Caroline knew of no other way to bring her temperature down.

  “Gulegi is bringing it.”

  Moments later, true to his words, the burly Indian stomped into the room, carrying a pail of water. Caroline handed Colleen to Wolf and set about wiping Mary’s face with the cooling liquid. Mary moaned but still didn’t open her eyes.

  Wolf paced the room from the hearth to the opposite wall, trying to quiet the child. “She’s hungry,” Caroline said as she looked up. “But I don’t think Mary can feed her.”

  “Do you know what is wrong with her?”

  Tears of frustration sprang to Caroline’s eyes, but she blinked them back. “I don’t know.”

  Turning away from her Wolf spoke in a low tone to the Indian. Caroline watched as the strange Indian nodded, then left the room.

  “What did you say to him?” A movement outside the window caught her eye, and she saw the Indian lope across the clearing. He passed the tree where Robert was killed and faded into the forest.

  “I sent him to the village to fetch Sadayi.”

  “He is a friend of yours, isn’t he?” When Wolf nodded, Caroline looked away. “I nearly shot him.”

  “I am sorry he frightened you, but not every Cherokee is an enemy to you.” He patted the baby’s back with his large hand, and she whimpered in response.

  Now that she thought about it, Caroline admitted to herself that she probably did run into the stranger. And though he’d held onto her, he hadn’t hurt her. Still, after what she’d been through, and the v
igilance kept by Wolf, she had a right to be wary. “’Tis impossible for me to know the difference upon first glance,” she said before turning back to Mary.

  “I realize this has been difficult for you.”

  “More so for Mary, I would say.” Caroline didn’t turn when she spoke, but kept her hands busy blotting her friend’s face with the damp cloth. She could tell he was close to her. His scent surrounded her. Caroline tried not to allow that to affect her. But it did. Why could she not resist even the most subtle thing about him? Even when her concern for Mary was so great?

  At least she wasn’t the only female who couldn’t resist him. Baby Colleen, soothed into momentarily forgetting her hunger by his gentle touch, slept soundly against his shoulder.

  His naked shoulder.

  He’d come running from his swim in the river, dressed only in his loincloth, his bronzed skin shimmering with water. Would she ever be able to look at him and not be affected by his powerful body? Caroline forced such thoughts from her mind, but she didn’t glance around toward him. “I shall hold Colleen if you wish to put something else on. You must be chilled,” she added, hoping he’d think that was the reason she wanted him dressed.

  He made no comment, but she could hear him moving about the room, depositing the baby in her cradle, then returning to glance over her shoulder at Mary before leaving the room.

  She didn’t hear him return. Convinced that Mary felt a bit cooler, Caroline arched her back to relieve her aching muscles. She stiffened when she felt his hand upon her shoulder.

  “I will do that for a while.”

  When she glanced around, he nodded toward the pail by Caroline’s feet. He had pulled on a linen hunting shirt and tied back his hair, though it was still wet enough to dampen a V on his shirt. “I suppose I could use a rest.”

  “Only a change of tasks. I brought some watered-down gruel to feed Colleen.”

  “Can she eat that?” When Raff only shrugged, Caroline moved to the cradle. The baby was crying again, a weak, low keening that tore at Caroline’s heart. She thought of her own child nestled safely inside her body, and she held Colleen closer.