Winter Love Part 16

"I'd better get the h.e.l.l out of here before I beat him to a pulp," Fletch muttered to himself and yanked his jacket off the wall. He opened the store and got a bottle of whiskey, and left.

When Hunter asked Agnes to dance, she accepted, though it was obvious she was a little nervous about it. Holding her loosely, keeping several inches between them, Hunter was surprised how well she danced, how light she was on her feet as he swung her around the room. He thought how very pretty she would be with a few pounds of weight added to her small frame. He talked quietly to her as one would a frightened deer. He spoke of their long, hard winter and complimented her on how nicely her children behaved. Once he even coaxed a shy, timid smile from her.

When the set was over, Hunter led Agnes back to where Laura was waiting and thanked her graciously for the dance. When he and Laura were back on the dance floor, he said, "Did you know that Agnes is from Georgia?"

"No, I didn't I was of the opinion she was from the South, though, from her soft speech, the way she talks."

"She's so frail looking it makes a man want to take care of her."

"Maybe some men would feel that way, but certainly her dead husband didn't. He treated her shamefully."

"That beast should have been shot minutes after he was born," Hunter gritted through his teeth. Agnes danced with Hunter twice more but refused the other men who tried again to get her to dance with them.

When the party broke up at midnight and Agnes began gathering her brood, Hunter walked over to her. "I'll walk you and the children home." When she demurred, he said forcefully, "It's not safe for you and the young ones to be walking alone in the woods."

Laura, along with others, lifted an eyebrow when Hunter escorted Agnes and her family through the door. Most of the women asked each other what did that handsome Southerner see in skinny Agnes Morse? They didn't know, as Laura knew, that Hunter had recognized a kindred spirit in Agnes's beautiful, haunted eyes. They both had wounds that went deep into their souls.

Everyone trooped out of the tavern, and Laura said good night to Maida and Justine and walked the short distance home. She found Jolie asleep in her cradle and Bertha asleep in the rocker. She gently shook the madam awake.

"How was the party?" Bertha asked at the end of a wide yawn. "Did you have a good time?"

"It was a fine get-together. Taylor enjoyed himself, visiting with his friends again."

"What about you? Did you have a good time?"

"Oh yes. Hunter and I danced a lot." Bertha said no more. Laura's tone had told her what she wanted to know. The young woman would have preferred to stay home.

Later, lying in bed, Laura wondered why Fletch had left the party so early, and why he hadn't danced with anyone. Milly was there, dancing with any man who asked her. Had that made him angry? Jealous?

Before Laura fell asleep she hoped that Milly gave him the same pain he had given her when he called their daughter a b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

Chapter Sixteen.

Laura turned the calendar to February. The new year was a month old. She sighed. She couldn't see that her life would be any different in the new year than it had been before. She would still be married to Pa, each day slipping into another, nothing changing.

The years ahead looked very bleak. She would always stand on the sideline, watching the changes that would come into her friends' lives as they raised their children, wives and husbands working together, loving each other, making love at night.

None of that was in her future, Laura thought gloomily, carrying her cup of coffee to the window and looking out on the white world. Laura Thomas would raise her child alone, her little daughter most likely being shunned as her mother was. She had no doubt that most of the people in Big Pine looked on Jolie as Fletch did. A b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

Laura saw Daniel leave the store and was reminded that she was supposed to visit Maida that afternoon. Maida certainly had a lot to look forward to. Her girlish figure had a small protrusion in the stomach now. And though she claimed she had never felt better, Daniel watched over her like a mother wolf with one pup.

Laura's mood lightened somewhat when she saw Little Fox trotting up the path to the cabin. He showed up two or three times a week to visit and to eat cookies. Yesterday she had baked his favorites, oatmeal and raisin.

Little Fox paused on the porch to stroke Brave's head and talk to him in Indian language. Laura had learned only recently that the wolf dog had belonged to him before she had taken him. She had felt badly and offered to return the animal to him.

Little Fox had shaken his head and said, "He is better off with you. Here he has a dry place to sleep and plenty to eat. I will come visit him if you don't mind."

Laura had managed to keep a straight face, knowing that his visit would be mainly an excuse to eat some cookies. She wore a welcoming smile when she opened the door at his knock. Her smile was returned; then the teen-ager went to the table and sat down in the chair he always used. She placed milk and cookies before him, and, his eyes s.h.i.+ning like polished black beads, Little Fox helped himself.

The young Indian was a bright lad and Laura always enjoyed his company. After politely asking about his family, she brought up a subject they often discussed-the Isle Royale in Lake Superior.

In one of the long talks they'd had while b.u.t.terfly was recovering from the flu, the Indian woman had described the island. "It has a serene beauty about it," she said; "calm and peaceful, with the water lapping at its sh.o.r.es. There's an old log cabin almost hidden by the tall pines that grow around it. A trapper built it many years ago. No one knows what happened to him, but it is believed that he was killed by wolves one winter."

"When the boys of the village reach a certain age, they are sent alone to the island to test their courage, to become men."

Laura had often thought of that place after that, especially on days when she was sunk in a gloom of despair, longing to get away from the disdainful looks and the whispers that went on behind her back. But most of all she thought of escaping the contempt in Fletcher's eyes every time she came near him, the scorch of hot desire from his dark eyes as they skimmed over her body.

Laura gave herself a mental shake and came back to the present as Little Fox was saying, "Come spring I will be going alone to the island. I will spend a month there, living off the land. I will kill rabbits and quail to eat, and when I grow tired of meat I will fish for perch and ba.s.s. In between I will lie in the sun and listen to the songs of robins and meadowlarks and bluebirds as I meditate."

"What about wolves? Don't they frighten you?"

"A little. Of course I will always have to be on the alert for them."

As Little Fox talked on about the small piece of land in the same glowing terms b.u.t.terfly had used, there grew in Laura the determination that when the lad went there next spring, she would go with him. She would have to follow him secretly, though, for no doubt he wouldn't want her with him. The rule was that he had to live alone on the island.

As Little Fox continued to talk and eat cookies, half-formed plans grew in Laura's mind. She would ride the mare, of course. Jolie was getting too big to carry any distance. And for their protection she would take a pistol and a rifle and the dog. Once they arrived at the island they would have shelter in the old cabin.

When the cookie plate was empty, Little Fox said it was time he left. "I am going hunting with my father," he said proudly. When Laura closed the door behind him, she wrapped Jolie in a heavy blanket and hurried along to Maida's cabin, her feet crunching crisply in the snow, her nose puffing little clouds of white vapor.

Maida swung open the door as soon as Laura stepped up on the porch. "You're late," she said. "I thought you weren't coming." When Laura stepped inside, Maida took Jolie so that her mother could take off her jacket.

"Little Fox stopped by," Laura said, hurrying over to the fire as Maida unwrapped Jolie and sat her in the high chair that had been purchased for her own baby that was on its way. "We got to talking about Isle Royale, and time got away from me."

Giving Jolie a string of colorful wooden beads to play with, she asked, "Where is Isle Royale?"

"A place where the Indians go from time to time. Little Fox has gone there many times to hunt and fish with his father." As Laura sat down at the well-scrubbed table, something told her not to mention that the boy would be going there in the spring. When she left Big Pine she didn't want anyone to suspect where she had gone.

"You'll never guess who came to visit me yesterday," Maida said after she had poured coffee and sliced a piece of apple pie for both of them.

"Big Bertha," Laura guessed.

Maida shook her head. "Agues Morse."

"I can't believe it," Laura said. "I think it's wonderful that she is coming out of her sh.e.l.l and getting to finally know her neighbors. What did you talk about?"

"Oh, I don't know. Just things like you and I talk about. Cooking, sewing, and of course the weather." She laughed shortly. "n.o.body ever talks long without mentioning that. She sure is sour on men. Every time a man was mentioned, her face got all stony looking."

"Yes," Laura agreed. "I'm afraid Agnes will never get over the way George treated her. She'll probably go to her grave never letting a man touch her intimately again."

"It's a shame, too. She could use the help of a man, trying to raise all those children by herself."

"You know what seemed odd," Laura said thoughtfully. "Agnes turned down several men who invited her to dance, then danced three times with Hunter."

"What struck everyone as odd was that she let him walk her and her brood home. What do you make of that?"

"I think it was because Hunter didn't scare her. He has a gentleness about him that makes women trust him."

"I've noticed that about him." Maida nodded. "That would appeal to Agnes, never having had any kindness from that awful George. The poor woman must be starved for affection."

Laura was about to agree when Jolie began to fuss and rubbed her eyes. She stood up and reached for her jacket. "She's ready for her nap, and I might as well take her home and put her to bed. If I don't, she'll raise a racket that all the neighbors can hear."

"I'll walk with you," Maida said as Laura wrapped her irritable daughter back into the blanket. "I need to pick up a few things at the store."

They had walked but a short distance when a feminine voice called out Maida's name. "What does that gossip want?" Maida muttered as they both turned their heads to watch Martha Louden hurrying toward them.

Ignoring Laura as though she were one of the snow-covered stumps scattered about the area, Martha smiled at Maida and said, "I just wanted to remind you that tomorrow we're to meet at the church hall to work on the quilt we ladies are makin' for poor Agnes."

A frown etching her forehead, Maida said shortly, "I remember," then hurried after Laura, who had walked on ahead. Martha stared after her, indignation in her stance as she stood with her hands on her hips. She turned around so fast to head back to her cabin, she slipped on the icy snow and sat down hard. As she struggled to her feet, gales of laughter trilled from the throats of Big Bertha's girls who had just stepped outside to take a short, brisk walk.

Her chin in the air, Martha moved on down the path, walking as quickly as she dared on the frozen snow, the sound of the wh.o.r.es' amus.e.m.e.nt following her.

"I can't stand that old b.i.t.c.h." Maida's eyes snapped angrily when she caught up with Laura. "She's mean and spiteful. Justine told me that Martha's got it in for you because she wanted to land Taylor herself And I think it's just awful that she isn't helping out with her nephews and nieces. The only reason she's helping with the quilt is so she can hear the latest gossip."

"Of which I'm the prime subject, I'm sure," Laura said bitterly.

"Your name is not mentioned when Justine and I are there," Maida declared. "The first time ole Louden started to bad-mouth you, Justine and I jumped all over her. Justine pointed out to her that if Taylor ever got wind of anyone talking bad about you, he'd probably refuse to let them in his store. I'll bet there's very little talk going on about you these days."

Amus.e.m.e.nt sparkled in the young wife's eyes. "It's a thirty-mile trip to the next village and fur post. There'd be some mighty angry husbands if they had to make that trip very often. Especially when they learned why Taylor wouldn't sell them anything."

"Maybe I'm not their favorite topic anymore, but I'm sure there's a few of them that get together and rip me up the back. Their att.i.tude toward me hasn't changed." Laura smiled warmly at her young friend. "Thank you, Maida, for standing up for me."

Maida smiled back. "It gave me a lot of pleasure to tear into that old biddy," she said as they came to the path that branched off toward the Thomas cabin. They said good-bye, Laura hurrying home and Maida going on to the store, walking carefully so as not to slip on patches of ice.

Chapter Seventeen.

February and March pa.s.sed in much the same way as the months before them, cold and snowy and gloomy. It was now a week into April, and except for scattered patches that still hung on in shaded spots, the snow had melted. The paths that meandered around stumps that dotted the area were now ankle-deep quagmires. Women were constantly nagging husbands and children to wipe their feet before entering the cabin. Big Bertha made her customers take off their boots before entering her establishment.

Stands of birch were sprouting new leaves the size of a squirrel's ear, and the willows along the lake were putting on a soft misty green. The trappers had brought in their traps and hung them up until the first frost of the next season.

All of Big Pine had taken a new lease on life.

Changes had taken place in the Thomas cabin also. Jolie, nearly ten months old, had grown out of her infant clothes, and it seemed to Laura that she spent half her time sewing new ones for her. She was crawling now and getting into everything she could reach. Laura expected her to start walking any day. For the past two weeks the little blond-haired beauty had been pulling herself up to chairs and walking around them as her chubby fingers hung on to the seat. b.u.t.terfly had made her a beautiful pair of moccasins, b.u.t.ter soft and bead-trimmed. It was difficult for her mother to keep them on her little feet, she was so fascinated with the colorful beadwork and wanted to play with them.

Jolie had trained easily to her own little chamber pot and now took her meals with her mother. She sat in the same high chair that Laura had used before her, banging on the tray with her small fists if food wasn't promptly put into her rosebud of a mouth. She had a small vocabulary: mama, eat, wawa, and dada. Ironically, she used the last word for both Taylor and Fletch.

It gave Laura great satisfaction to hear her daughter refer to Fletch as dada. She never corrected her. Although he became very fl.u.s.tered when called that endearing name, when Jolie reached her arms to him to be held, Fletch never hesitated to take her.

Laura smiled wryly as she stood in the open doorway looking out on the bright spring morning. She and Fletch had exchanged bitter words a couple weeks ago. Not that that was unusual for them, but this had been their worst to date.

One morning, shortly after breakfast, her stomach had felt unsettled and she had visited the privy. She was on her way back to the cabin when without warning bile rose in her throat and she bent over, losing her morning meal. She had finished and was leaning weakly against a tree when Fletch spoke from a few feet behind her.

"You're in a family way again, aren't you?" he asked, his voice tight with accusation.

It was on Laura's tongue to deny his words, knowing that she had just finished her menses. Then she had thought, Why bother? After all, she didn't care what he thought of her. Time would prove him wrong.

She looked him full in the face and said defiantly, "Yes, I am."

Fletch sucked in his breath, his face going a shade paler. "By the same b.a.s.t.a.r.d, I suppose," he finally spoke.

Laura knew he was referring to Hunter, and turning her face away from him so that he wouldn't see the amus.e.m.e.nt in her eyes, she answered, "Yes, by the same b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

There was a moment of tense silence; then Fletch rasped, "This is going to break Pa's heart, you know." When Laura made no response, he swallowed a couple times, then asked dully, "Why don't you set aside your marriage to Pa and marry the man who has fathered two children on you? You can't go on hurting people this way."

"I suppose when you say people you're referring to Pa. I can't imagine that I'd hurt anyone else. At any rate, I have no desire to marry Jolie's father. Something happened between us that showed me he isn't the type of man I'd care to share my life with."

"Look," Fletch began, but before he could continue, Daniel walked out of the woods and joined them. Laura smiled at the big man and grabbed the opportunity to get away from Fletch and into the house.

Laura sighed as she picked up the broom to sweep the kitchen floor. This coming Sunday she would begin the trip that would take her away from the hurt and pain she had suffered ever since her marriage to Pa. Yesterday when Little Fox visited her he had said with s.h.i.+ning eyes that he would start his big adventure on that day. She had casually questioned him about the hour he would leave his village and how he planned to cross the lake to get to the island.

"I'll be leaving at first light," he had answered. "And it will be a simple matter to get to the island. My people keep several canoes hidden in the reeds along the narrowest and shallowest stretch of the lake."

Several times Laura had weakened in her de-termination to leave the security of the home she had grown up in. She had no idea what awaited her on that lonely strip of land. She asked herself if a woman, alone with a baby, could make it. Could she live the simple life the Indians did?

"I'll have to," she told herself each time doubts a.s.sailed her. She could no longer endure being gossiped about, snubbed by most of Big Pine's female population.

But how she dreaded the good-byes to those who had stood by her through it all. They wouldn't know, of course, that she was wis.h.i.+ng them farewell, and they would be very upset at her disappearance.

And Pa. Although it was a coward's way, she was leaving him a note. He deserved an explanation. It's time I get his lunch ready, she thought when the clock struck the half hour.

Slipping an ap.r.o.n over her head, she wrapped the ties around her waist twice. She had lost a lot of weight the past couple weeks. She'd had so much on her mind that she had lost her appet.i.te and her sleep was restless. Some mornings she awakened as tired as she had been on retiring.