Christine Dorsey - [MacQuaid 02] (30 page)

Logan couldn’t help thinking of his own daughter as he looked in on her. “The lass seems to grow longer every day.”

“I know.” Caroline’s smile was full of pride. She nodded toward the winged chair to her right. “Can you sit with me awhile?”

For a moment, after he settled into the chair, spreading his long legging-clad legs toward the fire, neither spoke. Caroline kept her eyes lowered as she stitched the hem of a small hunting shirt. “For Kalanu,” she finally said, holding the fabric up by the shoulders. “He’s another of my brood that seems to sprout like a weed. ’Tis an endless task keeping him in clothing that fits.”

Despite her words she folded the fabric in her lap, then looked up at him with her full attention. “I’ve wondered when you would come for a talk.”

Logan blinked. “How did you know I would?” Hell, he hadn’t even known until he found himself tapping on her bedroom door.

“Call it intuition.” She shrugged. “Or perhaps ’tis because I’ve noticed how restless you are.”

“I’m always restless.”

“Then it must be the way you look at Rachel that made me think you might need someone to talk to. Where is she by the by?”

“With Kalanu and Mary. They’re playing with Alkini. I fear she’ll want to take your children with her when she leaves.”

Her smile disappeared. “Are you leaving? Wolf and I hoped you might spend the winter at least. Or stay always. A third of Seven Pines belongs to you.”

“I’d thought to go to Charles Town. To see James for myself.”

“’Tis that the only reason you’re going?”

Somewhat surprised Logan glanced up from his study of the briskly burning logs. “Aye.” He let out his breath. “Nay. I’d thought perhaps to talk with a physician while I was there.”

She leaned forward, resting her fingers on his sleeve. “You aren’t ill, are you?”

Logan patted her hand as he shook his head. She was a sweet woman, this wife of his brother. Even the first time he met her, when he was so drunk and torn up with guilt that he could barely stand, he’d thought her lovely. The years had only made her more so.

“Then what?”

“Rachel... says things.” He leaned back, his head pressed into the chair. “Strange things.”

“We’ve talked.” He shifted, meeting her eyes as she continued. “About her... past.”

“Then you know about the court of King George? And Queen Charlotte’s wide mouth? And that the king’s brother is enamored of her?

“Enamored of Rachel?” Caroline folded her hands. “She didn’t mention that. But then, I don’t suppose she would now.”

“Now? Caroline, don’t you know not a word of this is true? She couldn’t possibly be all those things she said.”

“Why not? ’Tis it so hard to comprehend that a woman of noble birth would come to the American frontier?” Her laugh was infectious.

“I haven’t forgotten who you are, Your Ladyship.”

“Was.” Caroline patted the cotton of her apron. “Now I am the wife of an Indian agent and the mother of his children.” She didn’t say how content she was with her life. She didn’t have to. Her face shone with it.

“Did Rachel tell you how she came to be on my mountain?”

“No.” Caroline rocked back. “I don’t believe she did. Is it an interesting story?”

“I haven’t the vaguest notion.”

“Well, tell me then and I’ll decide.”

“I don’t
know
how she came to be there. One moment I was alone.” He snapped his fingers. “The next she was there, pushing me off the edge.”

When she said nothing, Logan sat up straighter. “I know what you’re thinking. That it’s me who’s daft. That I’m imagining things because of the drink.”

“Logan...”

“Don’t think I didn’t wonder the same thing. I was drunk when she showed up, true.”

“I’ve always worried so about you.” Her hand was on his arm again.

“I’m telling you, Caroline, ’twas not the rum. I’ve given it up... or at least I’m trying.” Logan paused. “She says she’s an angel. An angel come to save me. To save my life.” There, he’d said it. He’d told another human being about Rachel, hoping for some sort of logical explanation. Or at least an idea of what he was to do.

That was what he wanted. What he got was an uneasy feeling that he’d betrayed Rachel. As if he’d shared something intimate meant only for the two of them. Even though it was Caroline, sweet, understanding Caroline, that he told, Logan regretted his admission.

Logan pushed out of his chair pacing toward the bed and back, feeling suddenly confined by the four walls. Wishing he were back atop his mountain, a jug of rum by his side.

“Forget I said anything.” He faced her and shrugged. “That is if you can forget. As I said, you probably think ’tis me who’s daft.”

“I think no such thing. Logan, sit down, you’re going to wake Liz.”

“I better see if Wolf needs any help.”

“He doesn’t.” Caroline reached up toward her brother-in-law. “Or if he does, ’tis not as important as listening to what I have to say. Which sounds very conceited on my part I admit, but do listen.”

She took a deep breath when he finally lighted, albeit on the edge of the plaid cushion. “My brother Ned.” She paused. “You met him at Fort Prince George, though you may not recall.”

“I remember him.” Hard drink hadn’t washed everything from his mind.

“Good. Anyway, after that he returned to England to school. Later, when he came back to Carolina we spent a great deal of time together, talking. He told me of the gossip from England. Court gossip mostly. I was busy with Kalanu and missing Wolf terribly and listening gave me something to occupy myself.”

“You needn’t apologize for gossiping, Caroline.”

“No, I don’t suppose I do.” She laughed. “But sometimes it does seem a poor use of one’s time. Though in this case I might make an exception.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Only that he told me about a Lady Rachel Elliott. Ned did. She was young and golden-haired and there had been a horrific scandal.

“With Rachel?”

“No. I don’t recall all the details. I do wish Ned were here. But it was something to do with her parents... her mother. She’d run off with her lover I believe. Anyway, Ned said the daughter—Rachel—was the undisputed beauty of the court.”

“But what would that woman be doing here...?” Logan shook his head. “She could be anyone. Hell, Rachel could have heard the same stories your brother did.”

“Perhaps, but if you want my opinion—”

“What is my wife trying to make you do?” Wolf pushed open the door, filling its frame with his tall body. The smile he gave his wife softened his words. Before she could answer he was across the room, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “How is our new baby daughter this fine day?”

“See for yourself, I hear her stirring.” While her husband bent over the cradle, Caroline gave his brother a telling look.

Logan only shrugged.

When Wolf handed his now lustily crying child to her mother, Logan decided to take his leave, promising to think on what Caroline had said.

“What did you tell my brother?” Wolf bent forward to kiss the tip of her nose, then watched as Caroline loosened her shift. The hungry child latched on to her nipple as Wolf traced a line of pale blue veins on her breast.

“’Twas nothing really.” She smiled up at him. “Though I do believe your brother is in love.”

Wolf folded his long frame into the seat Logan had used. “With Rachel, I presume.”

“Why yes. And you needn’t act so smug as if I told you something you already knew.”

“Then I will not say it is so.”

Caroline cupped Liz’s small head, then glanced up to see her husband’s sensual smile. “How did you know? Logan said he was but escorting her to Charles Town when they arrived. And they seem to barely speak to one another. How
did
you know.”

“Because I have noted the way he looks at her when he thinks no one sees. I know that look well,” he explained. “It is the way my eyes caress you.”

Heat spread through her like sun-warmed honey. It was true what he said. Caroline felt Wolf’s love every time he glanced her way. When she reached out her hand to him he left his seat, moving forward and kneeling in front of her.

“I do not think I could have lived had you died.” His hands hugged her thighs while his head dropped to her lap.

Caroline choked down a sob. One hand fell to his head and she wove her fingers through the rough silk texture of his black hair. “You would survive Wolf because you are a strong man. Because your people need you. Our children need you.”

His face lifted. “Do not ever leave me.”

“I will be with you always, Wolf. As you are with me.”

~ ~ ~

“What happened to the beautiful princess next, Rachel?”

“Oh.” Rachel tore her eyes away from Logan and focused back on Mary. She was sitting in the parlor telling the children a story when she glanced up to see Logan watching her.

How long he’d been there she didn’t know, but his presence was flustering. Especially when he’d done his best to make certain their paths didn’t cross since the night they made love.

“Let me see. Oh, yes, she lived happily ever after.”

“But you said she was given the task of saving the mean old giant’s life. Did she do it?”

Rachel didn’t dare look up at Logan. Leave it to Kalanu to recall that her story had stopped suddenly and to remember what she had said. Rachel shot the boy an exasperated glance. He sat on the floor at her feet, Henry cuddled at his side while his younger sister wriggled into her seat of honor on Rachel’s lap.

“Don’t you remember, Rachel?” Mary piped in.

“Of course I do.” She tried not to notice as Logan walked into the room, seating himself on one of the straight chairs by the window. “She saved his life when he... he fell into the creek. You see, the giant couldn’t swim. He simply floundered about, unable to save himself, till the princess—”

“The beautiful Princess,” Mary reminded.

“Yes, the beautiful Princess threw herself into the raging water.”

“I thought perhaps she might toss him a rope.”

Rachel did look at Logan when he spoke. Her lips thinned. “No, she dove into the rushing torrent.”

“It would appear the Princess is brave as well as beautiful.”

“She is.”

Mary’s head was turning from side to side as she tried to follow the conversation between Logan and Rachel. “Do you know this story too, Uncle Logan?”

“He thinks he does, Mary.” Rachel smiled down at the child. “But he doesn’t.”

“Why don’t you know it Uncle Logan?”

“Actually, I know more than the Princess gives me credit for.”

“Who’s the Princess?” Her dark eyes looked from one to the other.

“He means Rachel. You’re such a baby.”

“Am not.”

“Are, too.”

“Kalanu. Mary. That will be enough,” Rachel said firmly. “Perhaps you should both go upstairs for a while. Just don’t wake Alkini.”

“But you promised to tell us the story about the talking dog.”

“And I shall.” Rachel ignored Logan’s groan. “After you rest for a bit.”

“I’m too old for a nap.”

“Then Kalanu, you may read to your sister until she falls asleep.”

After the children left the parlor, Logan stood. “Talking dogs, Your Highness. I thought you had more sense than to tell that to those children.”

“They were stories, Logan.”

“As I’ve known from the beginning.”

Pushing from her chair Rachel strode to the door, pausing only when he called her Your Highness again. She whirled around. “I told you I am not a princess.”

“Nevertheless, we are leaving in two days for Charles Town.”

“As soon as you trust yourself you will know how to live.”

— Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

She neither knew how to saddle a horse... nor showed any inclination to learn.

Logan didn’t know why that should surprise him. Getting any labor from her was a struggle from the start. She simply assumed someone else would do it for her.

Hardly the type of woman he would choose for a wife... even if he wished for one. Which he most certainly did not. Except... what was he going to do with her?

He glanced toward her as they rode along the path leading east from Fort William Henry... and caught her studying him, her blue eyes intent. It was morning. The air was cool. Frost still speckled the wild strawberries and yarrow.

“I don’t know why you should be angry.”

Logan simply arched a dark brow and looked away.

“How was I to know he was a friend of yours?” she persisted, though she knew it better to simply change the subject. Or continue on in silence as they had since leaving the fort.

His head jerked around, spearing her with his sea-green eyes. “What you’re not to be doing is accosting everyone who approaches me.”

“He had a gun.” Rachel lifted her chin. “And I call crushing you in his arms more than simply approaching.”

“’Tis but a typical greeting for Simon.”

Rachel sighed. She knew that now. She’d even been subjected to one of the mountain man’s hugs after Logan introduced them. Which was after he peeled her off Simon’s back. And made some awkward attempt to explain her actions.

Which weren’t that outlandish at all, given the circumstances.