Into the Wilderness
Page 123
"But what happened?" she repeated. "Did Richard prevail?"
Nathaniel lifted her chin with one crooked finger and ran his thumb along her lower lip. The shock of this, the pressure of his thumb, reverberated through her and her breath caught in her throat.
"Not the way he hoped," he said. "But it ain't over yet, I'm sorry to say.
"But—”
“We could talk about this," Nathaniel interrupted her, his thumb at the corner of her mouth, pressing lightly. "Now or later. There's other things on my mind, at the moment. But if you're set on talking—"
His breath was warm on her face. She blinked at him, paralyzed.
"Aye." He smiled. "I thought so." And he pulled her up to him and kissed her, a slow, thorough kiss, all Nathaniel, his heat and his mouth and the driving intensity of him. Elizabeth opened to him and kissed him back, her fists clenching on his back.
When he pulled away from her, he wasn't smiling anymore.
"I was worried."
"What were you worried about?" he asked in a low voice, kissing the corner of her mouth. "You knew I'd come back to you, now, didn't you?"
She swallowed hard, nodded.
"Good." He grinned. They stood looking at each other, his hands holding her by the upper arms.
"We should go up and see Robbie," she said. "He'll be happy to see you, too.
"Aye," said Nathaniel. "But not so happy as I am to have you in front of me again." He looked up the beech tree.
"You thinkin' of telling me what you're doing climbing trees, Boots?"
This made Elizabeth remember. "There was a bear," she said. "With some curiosity about me.
"That much I can believe," he said, his eyelids lowering. He pulled her to him again and this time she didn't protest. There was nothing in her but his nearness and wanting him. He supported her weight, for she could not, and he kissed her until she was gasping with it.
He was trembling himself when they broke the kiss.
"Let's get these things up to Robbie," he said hoarsely. "We can do it in one trip if you help."
"I was supposed to bring fish." She glanced over her shoulder to the river. It had begun to drizzle.
"Not this afternoon," said Nathaniel. "There's other business to attend to."
* * *
Robbie was about to go out to check his trap lines, but he stayed a while to greet Nathaniel.
"It's good tae see ye, man," he said for perhaps the fourth time, clapping Nathaniel on the shoulder. "I was wonderin' if we'd end oop goin' doonriver after ye. But we managed, didn't we, lassie, we managed and then some. She's a fine wee lassie, Nathaniel, and a unco braw one, make nae mistake."
"I haven't," Nathaniel agreed, and laughed out loud to see Elizabeth blush with this, her pleasure at having him back again and teasing her. The urge to put his hands on her was almost too strong to deny. As much as he liked Robbie and wanted to talk to the man, he wished him away to his trap lines.
"Before I gae," Robbie said, as if he had read Nathaniel's mind—a thought probably not too far from the truth, he realized, for not much escaped the old soldier—"There's sum thing ye need tae ken. Jack Lingo's been up in this part o' the bush."
Nathaniel turned quickly, raised an eyebrow. "There's nothing new about that."
"Sae you've nae fear o' the man. Well, I dinna like the awd whoreson prowlin' aboot, no' when there's a bonnie young guidwife here and in ma care."
Nathaniel thought for a moment. He could walk out with Robbie, to talk. It wouldn't take long. He looked at his wife where she knelt by the fire, tending to the contents of the cook pot. She blushed and looked away, and his blood leapt at that, at what she was thinking, for it was clear on her face. Even Robbie could see it, for he blushed brighter than she did.
"Did you speak to him?" Nathaniel asked. "No. But there's sign o' him, and a lot o' it. And Dutch Ton wi' him."
Elizabeth looked up at the mention of this name.
"I know him," she said. "Dutch Ton."
The men looked surprised, and so she told them the story of the letter from his sister. Robbie laughed until the tears leaked down his face.
"Wha' a daft storyteller Axel is," he said finally. Then he shook his head and stood. "Dinna fash yersel', Nathaniel. I doubt they've mair on their sma' minds than usual. And ye'll be safe come night, in the caves.
"Is there more to tell?" Nathaniel asked, glancing over at Elizabeth.
"Naethin' that canna bide a while." He was pulling at his roundabout, checking his bullet pouch, touching the hatchet and the knife thrust into his belt in a thoughtful way. Then he picked up his traps.
"I wilna be back afore mornin'. I mun walk my far traps, an' there's nae avoidin' it. But it comes tae me," he added, dropping his gaze and clearing his throat. "I doubt ye'll miss me."
"But I will," Elizabeth said quite sincerely, coming forward. She smelled of wood smoke and her own musk, and Nathaniel reached out and put his hand on her, pulled her in to him. She came willingly, and stood there tucked into his side. They took leave of Robbie, and Nathaniel was pleased to see that she was genuinely fond of the man. It was the right thing to have done, sending her here. Given the goings—on in Albany. He grimaced a little at the thought of the conversation they must have. But not now, not this afternoon, not even tonight.
Nathaniel lifted her chin with one crooked finger and ran his thumb along her lower lip. The shock of this, the pressure of his thumb, reverberated through her and her breath caught in her throat.
"Not the way he hoped," he said. "But it ain't over yet, I'm sorry to say.
"But—”
“We could talk about this," Nathaniel interrupted her, his thumb at the corner of her mouth, pressing lightly. "Now or later. There's other things on my mind, at the moment. But if you're set on talking—"
His breath was warm on her face. She blinked at him, paralyzed.
"Aye." He smiled. "I thought so." And he pulled her up to him and kissed her, a slow, thorough kiss, all Nathaniel, his heat and his mouth and the driving intensity of him. Elizabeth opened to him and kissed him back, her fists clenching on his back.
When he pulled away from her, he wasn't smiling anymore.
"I was worried."
"What were you worried about?" he asked in a low voice, kissing the corner of her mouth. "You knew I'd come back to you, now, didn't you?"
She swallowed hard, nodded.
"Good." He grinned. They stood looking at each other, his hands holding her by the upper arms.
"We should go up and see Robbie," she said. "He'll be happy to see you, too.
"Aye," said Nathaniel. "But not so happy as I am to have you in front of me again." He looked up the beech tree.
"You thinkin' of telling me what you're doing climbing trees, Boots?"
This made Elizabeth remember. "There was a bear," she said. "With some curiosity about me.
"That much I can believe," he said, his eyelids lowering. He pulled her to him again and this time she didn't protest. There was nothing in her but his nearness and wanting him. He supported her weight, for she could not, and he kissed her until she was gasping with it.
He was trembling himself when they broke the kiss.
"Let's get these things up to Robbie," he said hoarsely. "We can do it in one trip if you help."
"I was supposed to bring fish." She glanced over her shoulder to the river. It had begun to drizzle.
"Not this afternoon," said Nathaniel. "There's other business to attend to."
* * *
Robbie was about to go out to check his trap lines, but he stayed a while to greet Nathaniel.
"It's good tae see ye, man," he said for perhaps the fourth time, clapping Nathaniel on the shoulder. "I was wonderin' if we'd end oop goin' doonriver after ye. But we managed, didn't we, lassie, we managed and then some. She's a fine wee lassie, Nathaniel, and a unco braw one, make nae mistake."
"I haven't," Nathaniel agreed, and laughed out loud to see Elizabeth blush with this, her pleasure at having him back again and teasing her. The urge to put his hands on her was almost too strong to deny. As much as he liked Robbie and wanted to talk to the man, he wished him away to his trap lines.
"Before I gae," Robbie said, as if he had read Nathaniel's mind—a thought probably not too far from the truth, he realized, for not much escaped the old soldier—"There's sum thing ye need tae ken. Jack Lingo's been up in this part o' the bush."
Nathaniel turned quickly, raised an eyebrow. "There's nothing new about that."
"Sae you've nae fear o' the man. Well, I dinna like the awd whoreson prowlin' aboot, no' when there's a bonnie young guidwife here and in ma care."
Nathaniel thought for a moment. He could walk out with Robbie, to talk. It wouldn't take long. He looked at his wife where she knelt by the fire, tending to the contents of the cook pot. She blushed and looked away, and his blood leapt at that, at what she was thinking, for it was clear on her face. Even Robbie could see it, for he blushed brighter than she did.
"Did you speak to him?" Nathaniel asked. "No. But there's sign o' him, and a lot o' it. And Dutch Ton wi' him."
Elizabeth looked up at the mention of this name.
"I know him," she said. "Dutch Ton."
The men looked surprised, and so she told them the story of the letter from his sister. Robbie laughed until the tears leaked down his face.
"Wha' a daft storyteller Axel is," he said finally. Then he shook his head and stood. "Dinna fash yersel', Nathaniel. I doubt they've mair on their sma' minds than usual. And ye'll be safe come night, in the caves.
"Is there more to tell?" Nathaniel asked, glancing over at Elizabeth.
"Naethin' that canna bide a while." He was pulling at his roundabout, checking his bullet pouch, touching the hatchet and the knife thrust into his belt in a thoughtful way. Then he picked up his traps.
"I wilna be back afore mornin'. I mun walk my far traps, an' there's nae avoidin' it. But it comes tae me," he added, dropping his gaze and clearing his throat. "I doubt ye'll miss me."
"But I will," Elizabeth said quite sincerely, coming forward. She smelled of wood smoke and her own musk, and Nathaniel reached out and put his hand on her, pulled her in to him. She came willingly, and stood there tucked into his side. They took leave of Robbie, and Nathaniel was pleased to see that she was genuinely fond of the man. It was the right thing to have done, sending her here. Given the goings—on in Albany. He grimaced a little at the thought of the conversation they must have. But not now, not this afternoon, not even tonight.
