Dorothy Garlock - [Annie Lash 03] Read online

  Maggie shook her head vigorously, and he clasped her to him again and held her for a long, quiet moment.

  “Oui, chérie. You are very much a woman, ma petite.” His voice quivered with tender emotion. She stood quietly while his hands moved over her, brushing the dirt and leaves from her skirt and hair. He put his hands on her shoulders and held her away from him so he could examine her face. Anger gleamed in his dark eyes.

  “I would kill him again and again.”

  She lifted a hand and her fingers traced the frown that drew his brows together and softly stroked the hair over his ears.

  “I’m a’right now, Light.” Her crooning voice had a soothing effect on his anger.

  “How did you know that I was coming this way?”

  She smiled, but only one side of her swollen mouth moved. She lifted her shoulders in a shrug.

  “I called t’ ya, Light. I knew ya’d come.”

  “You were waiting for me to come to you,” he repeated softly and tenderly kissed the injured side of her soft, red mouth. “It is enough to know for now. Mon Dieu, my sweet pet! I must guard you well, my jewel. You have become most precious to me!” He cupped her face between his palms and kissed her again and again, finding the broken flesh and licking it with his tongue.

  “Does it make ya happy t’ be with me, Light?”

  “Very happy, my pretty one.”

  She laughed a soft, trilling, happy sound that echoed like music in his ears. Her arms tightened around him, hugging him. At that moment a great swell of joy washed the torment from his soul. When he held her away from him so that he could look down into her face, it was with gentle firmness.

  “Do not be so foolish again, my sprite,” he scolded gently. “When you are alone, you must not get so near a man that he can pounce on you.”

  “He hurt the horse, Light.”

  Her palm was against his face. He turned his lips into it. She smiled, holding his eyes with hers until his dark features relaxed. She loved this quiet man who moved so silently through the forest, constantly vigilant. Though his copper skin and straight black hair that grew well-back from his forehead revealed his Indian heritage, his endearments were often French words, his accent ever-present.

  “Come, my sweet pet,” he said softly. “We must go from this place. I have first the painful duty of telling my friend that I have killed his half-brother. Then we must go tell your papa that I’m taking you with me to my mountain.”

  “Yore mountain? Where’s it at, Light?”

  “To the west, chérie. I’ve seen it in my dreams—a shining mountain where the trees grow tall, and clear rippling streams sparkle in the sunlight. At night the stars are so close you can almost reach out and touch them. It’s a virgin land of peace and quiet, unsullied by man. I want to go to my mountain, build a stout cabin and live out my life there.”

  “Ya’ll take me with ya, Light? I want t’ go where I can sing an’ dance and folks won’t think me strange. I want t’ go where no man can find me but you, Light.” Maggie stood on her toes and kissed his cheek.

  Light looked down at her for a long while. He had been irresistibly drawn to the fey girl since first he had seen her traveling with her family on the Missouri River. Light had grown accustomed to a solitary life. He had fought against loving another woman, but the little woods sprite had crept into his heart. When he gazed into her eyes, it seemed to him that she was looking into his soul and he into hers. It was unthinkable to him that a man, any man, should capture her and break her spirit. He must protect her forever.

  “You are my woman, ma petite,” he said, and the words were a pledge. “Come. We first go to Jefferson, then to your papa.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Isn’t that Light coming in on Jason’s horse?” Jefferson asked and moved out away from the house.

  Jefferson’s friend, Will Murdock, narrowed his eyes and watched the riders approach. Light rode Jason’s horse and Maggie sat astride the spotted mare that Light favored. Will observed Jefferson’s set face and felt a premonition of trouble.

  Light rode up within a few feet of them. He tossed the reins to Will, slid down, and reached up to lift Maggie from his mare. He turned and looked Jefferson in the eye.

  “I have killed your half-brother.”

  Both men stared at him with astonishment. Light stood with his feet spread, his body rigid. His piercing black eyes held Jefferson’s. Maggie stood close to him, both hands clasped around his upper arm, looking up into his face.

  Jefferson looked steadily at the expressionless, dark face of the man who had been more like a brother to him than his own kin. It took a while for the import of the words to hit Jefferson.

  Jason was dead!

  Light had killed him!

  “I know you, Light,” Jefferson said slowly. “You wouldn’t have killed him without a powerful reason.”

  “I killed him while he lay on top of my woman. I did not know who he was when I threw the knife. Had I known, I would still have thrown it.” A rush of fury reddened Light’s face. “But I knew who he was when I cut his throat,” he said quietly, despite the anger that washed back over him.

  “He was forcing himself on . . . Maggie?” Jefferson’s gaze went to the girl. She turned her face to him. It was swollen and bruised, her lip cut and bleeding still. He knew what Light said was true without seeing any further evidence. Light did not lie!

  “I was on my way here when I heard her whistle. He was forcing his way into her.” Light’s voice shook with rage.

  Maggie took his hand and rubbed his arm soothingly. He looked down at her, his face softening. He placed his hand behind her head and drew her to him.

  “I’m sorry,” Jefferson said slowly. “I didn’t know that side of Jason.”

  “He lies yonder, on the trail to St. Charles. I would not soil my hands to bring him to you.”

  “I understand.” After a silent moment, Jefferson heaved a big sigh. “I’ll go tell his wife. Then we’ll go get him.”

  “I’ll hitch up the wagon.” Will walked away, leading Jason’s horse.

  “I will tell the madame,” Light said.

  “No, my friend. I’ll do it. Jason has not been a good husband and father. Callie is a free woman now.” Jefferson laid his hand on Light’s shoulder. “Will and I feel that now that Hartley is dead the investigation of Burr is over. Tom Jefferson left a purse with me to pass on to you when we completed our mission. What are your plans, Light?”

  “I’m going west and I’m taking Maggie.”

  “It will be a dangerous journey.”

  “Oui.” Light sprang onto the back of his horse and pulled Maggie up behind him.

  “Will we see you before you go?”

  “Oui,” Light said again, and rode away.

  * * *

  The sun sent streaks of light fanning up from the eastern horizon when Light arrived at the Gentry homestead riding his horse and leading a small mare. His flintlock was under his arm, a tomahawk hung from his belt and the handle of a long hunting knife protruded from the top of his left legging above his moccasin. His hair was tied at his nape, and he wore a flat-crowned, round-brimmed leather hat.

  Wearing a newly sewn doeskin shirt, leather britches and moccasins, Maggie waited in the yard beside her parents clutching a bundle tied with a thin thong.

  After greeting the Gentrys, Light motioned Maggie’s father, Orlan, to one side.

  “It still be yore notion t’ go clear t’ the mountains?” Orlan asked, although he knew the answer. He had spent several hours talking with the scout about his plans.

  “Oui. I am a man of the forest, m’sieur.”

  “’Pears t’ be plenty a woods ’tween here and there. Plenty a Indians too.”

  “That is true. Are you thinking that Maggie would be safer or happier here, m’sieur, where she is scorned by women and lusted after by men who would dishonor her?”

  “No,” Orlan admitted sadly and wondered why God had given him this specia
l child.

  “I will love her and protect her with my life, m’sieur. I do swear it to you.”

  “Will you wed her?”

  “We will speak our vows.”

  From where she stood beside her mother, Maggie watched anxiously. When his conversation with Light was over, her father came to her and put his hand on her shoulder. He cleared his throat before he spoke.

  “If it still be in yore mind t’ go with Light, ya have my blessin’. He’ll be a good husband to ya. He do swear it. Me and yore ma be knowin’ it ain’t yore fault ya ain’t had no easy time with folks. Go from here to a new land”—the words stuck in his throat—“an’ . . . God be with ya.”

  “Thank ya, Pa.” Maggie kissed his cheek.

  “Mind yore man now, daughter.”

  “I will, Pa. I’m Light’s woman. I go where Light goes. Don’t fret for me, Ma,” she kissed her mother’s cheek. “He’ll keep me safe. I’ll be happy.”

  Light flung a blanket over the mare’s back and lifted Maggie to sit astride. He tied her bundle to a burden strap he had slipped beneath the horse’s belly. Taking the reins of Maggie’s horse, he mounted his own and they rode away from the homestead.

  Maggie turned for a last look at her parents. Her eyes were aglow, her lips curved in a happy smile. She waved and called to them.

  “Good-bye, Ma. Good-bye, Pa. ’Bye! ’Bye!”

  * * *

  The day was balmy with light breezes rustling the leaves of the tall forest. White pine, hemlock and oak towered two hundred feet high. Subdued sunlight struck the woodland floor of dense matted leaves. A marten slunk through the brush ahead of them, momentarily pausing to bare its sharp teeth. A cathedral silence surrounded them on all sides, broken only by the crackle of twigs under the hooves of their horses.

  Maggie was wildly, ecstatically happy. Her heart sang. She puckered her lips to whistle a merry tune. It was as if this were the first day of her life. She had only existed until now. She and her man were going into the vast wilderness beyond the great river. The unknown held no terrors for her . . . because she was with Light.

  She was going home to Light’s Mountain.

  He turned and smiled.

  The sun beamed down when they came to a break in the forest. The breeze brushed her face and stirred the brim of the straw hat her mother had insisted that she wear. She breathed deeply of the green, sweet-scented grass, the towering trees and the muddy smell of the river.

  They stopped on a bluff and looked toward the west where they could see the path the great Missouri River had sliced from the wilderness. It was noon, the top of the day. Maggie slid from her horse, and she and Light walked to the edge of the bluff. He turned her toward him and looked earnestly down into her upturned expectant face.

  “I brought you to this godly place to exchange our vows, chérie. I told your papa we would marry. Here I will pledge my love. It will be more sacred to me than if we stood before a man of God.”

  “We marry here, Light?”

  “Yes, chérie. Is it your wish that we go to St. Charles and find a priest?”

  “No. Let us marry here.”

  Light took off her hat and his and tossed them to the ground. He placed her hand over his heart and looked earnestly into her eyes.

  “I, Baptiste Lightbody, take you, Maggie Gentry, to be my wife. I swear to honor and cherish and protect you for as long as I live.” He looked up toward the heavens. “God be my witness.”

  While Maggie listened to the words her face was solemn and her eyes reflected the seriousness of the moment. She had known since first she saw him that this moment would come. He was her heart, her soul, her mate.

  “Does it mean I’m truly yore woman? Like Ma and Pa?”

  “Yes, my precious pet. I have vowed to love and protect you. You and I will be as one. We will be together for as long as we live.”

  “Forever an’ ever,” she said solemnly. “I promise all that ya did, Light. I promise t’ honor and obey ya and be a good wife.” She looked up at the heavens as he had done. “God be my witness.”

  They looked into each other’s eyes, the small girl and the dark scout, and spoke their vows as solemnly as if they were truly in a great cathedral.

  He held her close. “From this day forward, chérie, for as long as we live we will never be apart.”

  “Never be apart,” she echoed.

  Her arms moved up and around his neck. He held her firmly to him and kissed her reverently. She looked up at him with such adoration that he was suddenly fearful in his happiness that something would happen to snatch her from him. He would do everything in his power to keep this precious treasure, this wonderful small creature who was now his wife, safe from all harm.

  “Will we sleep together, Light?”

  “Oui, my love. Every night.”

  “I’ll like that.” She snuggled closer in his arms.

  “We’ll eat our wedding dinner here.” His smile altered the usually grave lines of his face. “Annie Lash sent pie.”

  Maggie clapped her hands. “And Ma packed hard-cooked eggs and corn pone and maple sugar sweets.”

  * * *

  The first two nights he and his bride were together, Light only caressed her and kissed her, holding his trembling desire in check lest he frighten her.

  Maggie loved being close to him. Each time his arms reached for her, she gladly went into them, delighting in the shelter of his wiry, warm body. Never, never had she felt so safe and so complete as here in their private world.

  On the third night, as they lay on the grassy riverbank, Maggie rolled over and stared down into Light’s face in the gathering dark. As she traced his thick dark hair and his straight nose with her light fingers, his firm mouth relaxed and softened.

  “Don’t you want to mate with me?”

  “Oh, chérie. I didn’t know if you knew—”

  Maggie laughed. “’Course, I know. I’ve seen couplin’.”

  “Mon Dieu! Where?”

  “When we camped near St. Charles. A man an’ a woman were in the woods. She pulled up her skirt an’ he pulled down his britches. I watched them. I didn’t think I’d like it then. But now I want t’ be with ya like that.” She took his hand and placed it on her lower belly. “Do ya want t’ do that with me, Light?”

  “Sweet pet.” Light laughed. He turned her and leaned over to kiss her again and again.

  Eyes closed, Maggie felt herself in some kind of warm paradise without borders of time or space. Light stopped kissing her for a moment and, smiling tenderly, put a finger on her eyelids to open them so that he might look deeply into her eyes. She shook her head impatiently as passion seized her. She tightened her arm around his neck and pulled his lips back down to hers.

  Slowly he pulled off her britches and pulled up her shirt to bare her breasts. A tremor raced through him. He crushed her to him and kissed her deeply. His hand trembled as he cupped her breast and began caressing it slowly. Maggie’s hands traveled searchingly over his body. She felt the hardness between his legs and gasped. She held onto it, excited by its length and rigidity.

  Light groaned with pleasure and held her hand there even as, with his other hand, he touched and felt the moistness between her thighs. Knowing he could not wait much longer, he fumbled to unfasten the tie at his waist and release his aching, throbbing, elongated sex.

  Light covered her mouth with his when he plunged into her, and remained still. He waited until the shock of entry receded and he felt the tight sheath surrounding him relax. Maggie clung to him as a fire ignited in the pit of her stomach. She began to move and then found herself gasping with exquisite pleasure.

  For both the sweet agony became more and more intense, then peaked. Maggie whimpered. Light lurched suddenly and violently.

  They lay quietly with Light still inside her for several minutes. When he withdrew, he lay at her side with his arms around her.

  “I’m yores and yo’re mine, Light.”

  “Oui, my prec
ious pet. I am yours.”

  * * *

  They traveled for a week without seeing anyone. Then late one evening they met a party of Osage. Light identified himself and they were greeted warmly. Light explained to Maggie that the Osage had heard of him and that they knew his mother’s sister, Nowatha, the healer. That night they all sat around a fire and ate strips of venison, fish and boiled kernels of corn.

  The hunters were plainly puzzled when Light prepared the food and his squaw sat beside the fire. After the meal they smoked and spoke in a language Maggie didn’t understand. She curled up on a blanket and went to sleep.

  When she awoke, she and Light were alone once again. He had traded a bit of gunpowder and tobacco to the Osage for a bow and a quiver of arrows. They had given Light a black rawhide whip they had found when they came upon a mule skinner who had been killed by the Delaware.

  After a breakfast of tea and biscuits, Light showed Maggie how to snake the narrow strip of rawhide out behind her and how to bring it forward. He left her to practice while he broke camp and prepared the horses for their departure.

  “You must practice each day,” he told her gravely. “There may come a time when we will be set upon. You must know how to defend yourself.”

  Each evening during the following weeks Maggie practiced with the whip and the knife. Crack after crack sounded through the still forest air as she gradually learned how to control the long, writhing snake of rawhide, until she could use the tip with enough precision to snap off twigs and weeds and blossoms.

  “It is an extra weapon, chérie,” Light explained.

  Light taught her to use the bow and arrow, but she did not have the strength to send the arrow with force for any distance and his flintlock was too heavy for her to lift, let alone control. The gun was a colonial make called the “Kentucky rifle” and was four inches over five feet in length. Light was one of only a few men west of the big river who could manage to hit his target at two hundred yards. Even so, he would much rather use a knife, and some evenings he and Maggie entertained themselves with contests between the two of them.