Wilderness Trail of Love (American Wilderness Series Romance Book 1) Page 7

  It seemed everyone had the same question for him. “Yes. I already made up my mind that I wanted to go. I think this is something my father would have wanted for me. And I hoped you would too.”

  “When did you plan to talk to me about upsetting our whole world? I don’t care what your father wanted.”

  “But I do,” he said simply. He swallowed his frustration. “And I care about what you want too.”

  Stephen decided to try to calm her. “You’re correct, of course. With all of our futures at stake, we must decide this with great care. There will be only one chance to make the right decision.” He took her hand and squeezed it. He could tell she was a long way from committing to leave. There was little conviction in her grip.

  He let go of her hand and started to pace again, but then stopped abruptly and faced her. “I want your happiness Jane—more than my own. You mean everything to me.”

  “Then think about this. We have been so happy here. It would be a terrible sacrifice to leave our home, everything we have worked so hard to build. It might not be much, but it’s ours.”

  He set his jaw and moved closer to her. “Our forefathers made sacrifices and endured misfortunes to come to the New World. They didn’t seek ease and comforts in coming here. They expected hardships and discouragements. I don’t think they did it just for themselves. They did it for us. They faced exactly the same choice we face, stay or go. They let God’s will guide them.”

  She threw her hands in the air and looked up. “How does anyone really know what God’s will is?”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. He considered her question for a moment, and then said, “I do know that we’re not here to just exist—to just get by. We’re here to accomplish what He puts in our hearts, even if it’s difficult. I think those sparks, those ideas that give us hope, that make us want to open a new door, come from Him. If we don’t accomplish anything, why are we even here? We must always try, even though we won’t always succeed. I know I would rather die trying, than die without ever having tried.”

  She appeared confused.

  “Kentucky offers a chance for a better life. Don’t we owe that to our daughters?” Worn out by their argument and lack of sleep, he collapsed in his favorite chair and yanked off his boots. He noted he would need to see the cobbler for a sturdy new pair before they left for Kentucky. “You’ve been through an ordeal and might not want to think about this now. But at least consider how much opportunity lies out there waiting for us before you make up your mind.”

  Jane didn’t respond. Instead, she fetched a pot of coffee from the stove and poured them both a cup. “Stephen, if it were just us, I wouldn’t hesitate. This is not about what’s right or wrong—it’s about choosing between two rights.” She stomped back to the kitchen to resume cooking for the moment.

  He hoped the streaming brew would refresh him, while he pondered what she had said about two rights.

  Jane’s head spun with dozens of questions, a myriad of doubts. What if we get there and he can’t find the kind of land he wants? What if the good land is already taken? How will we even know where to look? What if Stephen gets hurt or worse, dies?

  So many emotions thrashed around inside her head she could not think clearly. Her serene world had disappeared. The future approached like a thundering crashing avalanche, not the soft powdery flurry she’d grown used to. It was too fast and too much. She couldn’t keep up.

  Her confusion sent her to the verge of panic. Tears welled in her eyes. She didn’t want her world to change. She wanted everything to stay the way it was.

  She threw down her biscuit dough and stalked over to stand in front of Stephen. “Damn it, we need to just stay here. You will never convince me that even the best pastureland would be worth putting our girls in jeopardy. And you’ll never convince me that we need to leave to stay safe.”

  “Jane, there’s a new home for us out there somewhere. Trust that He will keep us all safe on our journey.”

  “I trust that He will keep us safe here.” She stomped her foot. “This is beyond impossible. I won’t do it!” she yelled. “We can’t leave our home.”

  “We can and we will.” His voice was uncompromising, yet gentle.

  The straightforward statement deflated her. She groaned and sat down at the table, nearly unable to stand with the weight of what her husband was asking of her. She knew Stephen’s heart—he was just trying to keep them all safe. But at what cost?

  Was he right? She wanted to trust her husband. But change was frightening. She brought her fingers to her lips and slowly rubbed her mouth, a habit she had when worried.

  Stephen just wasn’t thinking clearly. This whole incident with Bomazeen had shaken him to his core. A trip to Kentucky would sound like a convenient way to escape that problem. He probably imagined them riding through the woods, side-by-side, sleeping together under the stars. She wasn’t so sure. This was where she wanted to sleep with her husband. She had her babies in that bed. She was happy here, so content.

  Until Bomazeen. She closed her eyes and shuddered.

  Could she forget the horror that took place here? Would the girls remember the terror he inflicted every time they passed through the room? Would the devil come back for her? Or, heaven forbid, Martha? She had to admit, the thought terrified her.

  Maybe she should leave this house. Make new memories in a new home in another place. A place safely away from Bomazeen.

  She glanced at Stephen. His eyes held the same hopeful spark she had seen in them when he came back from the barn. He was looking at the future, while she still clung to the past, desperate to hold on to it. Was it time for her to look toward the future too?

  Would he do this anyway, no matter how much she objected? No, he loved her too much. But her husband’s ambition, if thwarted, would make him a man who would always wonder what might have been.

  A man’s life had to have a grander purpose than to just feed himself and his family.

  Maybe, she could at least consider his proposal. Maybe it was wrong for her to doubt him.

  “If I agree to this, and I’m still not sure I can, it will be against my better judgment. I will not do it because we are running from danger. But it will be for our future—yours, mine, and the girls,” Jane said guardedly.

  Stephen face brightened at once. “Keeping you safe is my future. I have no future, in the west or anywhere, if you’re not a part of it. I know we can make a better future for our family there.”

  She sucked in a breath. “I can’t believe you are truly ready to do this.”

  He came closer to her, looking down at her intensely, and took her hands in his. “It is overwhelming to think about,” he said, his voice conveying excitement. “It will not only change our lives, but the lives of our daughters and all those who’ll come after us. New Hampshire won’t be home to our descendants. I want to create a future they will benefit from. Someday, they’ll know we did this, and be grateful that we did it. I hope they will love the land as I do. This is going to be a great country someday; maybe even go beyond Kentucky. By God, we might even go beyond Kentucky.”

  Her blood froze at his words.

  Jane could only stare at him, wondering if she could even go beyond her doubts.

  CHAPTER 10

  With Sam and Bear there to keep a vigilant watch, Stephen felt he could get away for a short while to talk to his other brothers. He wanted to speak to all three together if he could, so he decided to get John first and then go into Barrington where Edward and William both lived.

  While he rode, Stephen thought about his discussion with Jane. He marveled at her keen mind. Having her as his wife and confidant was his greatest blessing, but her stubbornness went beyond bearable sometimes. And she called him pigheaded. Sam had promised to talk to her while he was gone. Perhaps he could make her understand how important this was for all of them and how serious a threat Bomazeen really was.

  He arrived to find John saddling his sorrel mount and Little
John’s old grey pony. John’s steed stood nearly 16 hands high to accommodate its owner’s long legs. The horse’s copper-red mane and tail sparkled in the morning sun reminding him of Jane’s hair. He would do whatever it took to protect that lovely head of hair.

  “Where you headed?” he asked John, without dismounting or greeting them.

  “Good morning to you as well,” John said, smiling. “We’re going to Barrington to check the progress of the new schoolhouse. I want to be sure the carpenters and masons are following my plans correctly.” He threw his saddle over a blanket and adjusted its weight on the horse’s back.

  An excellent builder, John had designed and built several area homes, bridges and churches. Currently, John was working on Barrington’s first schoolhouse, something the town was sorely missing.

  But today, Stephen’s mind was not on his daughters’ education, but their future.

  “Figure out who can take over for you. We’re leaving for Kentucky,” he said.

  John stopped, and looked up at him. “Why so soon? I thought we were still making up our minds. And if we decided to go, I didn’t think we were leaving until early summer, after the heavy spring rains. I can’t just leave the school half done.”

  “Finish saddling. We’ll talk in Barrington with Edward and William,” he answered.

  “All right. There’s some coffee left, if you’re interested,” John offered as he grabbed the girth strap and gave it a tug.

  “I just want to get to Barrington. Let’s go!”

  John glared back at him.

  Stephen softened his tone. He didn’t mind being abrupt, but he did not want to be rude. “Please hurry.”

  Within minutes, the horses and pony carried them at a steady trot, down the winding valley trail to Barrington. A crisp morning breeze carrying the scent of spring wafted against his face and he inhaled deeply.

  “What’s the rush Uncle?” Little John asked.

  “You’ll see soon enough.” His mind raced, filling with the numerous tasks to take care of before they could leave. They would have to sell their properties or turn them over to someone to rent. He would auction most of his livestock. They would need six months’ worth of key supplies, plenty of ammunition and guns, extra horses and a roomy wagon. By the time he reached Barrington, he had many of the details already worked out in his head.

  He tugged George to a stop in front of William’s house. The simple two-room dwelling was suitable for an unmarried man. William kept it neat, but it lacked the warmth of a woman’s touch. What would his life be like if he didn’t have Jane?

  When no one answered Stephen’s rap on the door, they let themselves in and found William still sound asleep, lying face down, wearing only his linen underdrawers.

  Little John marched over to the bedside. “Wake up Uncle Will. Uncle Stephen needs to talk to you.”

  William raised his head, grunted, and managed a weak smile at his nephew.

  “What are you doing still asleep when the morning’s half over?” Stephen asked. “I swear the only reason you wanted to be sheriff was to keep yourself out of real work.”

  “And out of jail,” John said. “Probably figured if he was sheriff, he couldn’t get arrested.”

  “Excellent point,” Stephen said, looking over at John.

  “Had a long night,” William said, swinging his long legs over the side of the bed and slowly pushing himself up. “First there were two young ladies that needed some company and then these trappers started trying to snare my lovely ladies. I had to set them straight. They’re probably sore around the jaw this morning.” He pushed his long hair out of his face with both hands.

  “You look a little roughed up yourself,” John said. “But that’s not unusual for you.”

  “Well, there were three of them,” William said.

  “Get dressed. We’re going to talk to Edward about the move to Kentucky,” Stephen ordered.

  “I’m not going anywhere without some coffee,” William said, pulling on his breeches. Stephen handed him his shirt. “You can have coffee at Edward’s. Get dressed.”

  “I’ll saddle your horse,” John said as he strode out.

  Stephen stepped a few feet away, but not out of earshot.

  Little John remained nearby watching his Uncle dress.

  “He’s wound up tighter than a new watch,” William told Little John. “I just need to throw some water on my face. Can you hand me my cravat?”

  “Sure and here are your leggings and boots,” Little John replied. “I think Uncle Stephen wants to tell you something important.”

  “Indeed, I do,” Stephen said.

  “Let’s go see what’s got him so worked up,” William said, grabbing his pistol and powder.

  The ride to Edward’s handsome house was just across the town, so within minutes, they gathered around the home’s highly polished dining table. Edward’s wife and children had gone to the butcher’s shop so they had the big house to themselves.

  As Edward got cups and poured coffee, Stephen watched Little John climb onto his father’s lap. At five years of age, the boy liked sitting on his father’s knee. Like John, he would be tall, already a head taller than other boys his age. His strawberry blond hair hung as straight as a ruler and framed a cherub sweet face. Perhaps because he was motherless, all four uncles gave Little John an abundance of attention and love.

  “Where’s Sam?” Edward asked. “If we need to talk, he should be here too.”

  “I’ll explain,” Stephen said, then proceeded to fill in his three brothers. Little John also listened quietly and attentively, his eyes growing wide when he learned that Bomazeen had nearly taken his Aunt and cousin.

  “I can’t believe you’re willing to take a journey this dangerous,” Edward said.

  “Staying here is a greater gamble. We all agree Bomazeen will come back for her. He specifically targeted her. How do we defend her against someone that cunning and evil? He’s some kind of supernatural fiend. It’s like trying to defend her against a damn ghost.”

  “On the trail, we’re more vulnerable to attack. What makes you think he won’t come after us?” William asked.

  “We can minimize risks if we travel in a group. We’re strong together. Sam, Bear, and you are all highly skilled with arms. John and I are competent shooters. We are virtually a small army. I’m confident we’ll be able to deal with potential threats—as long as we stay together.” He strode over to the window and peered out, already visualizing the group of them traveling west.

  Edward let out a long, audible breath. “A man like Sam might stay alive in Kentucky. But not you Stephen. If you lose your life or the lives of those you love, what have you gained? I understand wanting to pursue a dream, but dreams can quickly become nightmares.”

  Stephen snorted. He was more like Sam than Edward, that was a certainty. Maybe Edward didn’t understand because he couldn’t. Edward had always appreciated the creations of men more than the creations of God. The man just didn’t understand that land is the foundation of life itself. He turned away from the window and marched over to stand by Edward.

  “I’ve tried to make the best of my place. The winters here try both man and animal. I have seen my cows turn as hard as stone as they froze to death in roaring bitter winds. The rest are so poor by spring, they don’t breed back. Our horses have to paw through snow locked in ice trying to feed on dry withered grass. Beef and horses need good pastures to keep life in their bodies. I can’t sit here, like some bloody fool, waiting for granite to grow grass,” he said. He moved away from Edward and faced his other brothers.

  “I have just spent a month of back breaking labor clearing heavy timber and rocks off just one acre of my farm, toiled until my hands are raw and bleeding. And for what?” Stephen asked. “With every rock I throw in a pile, my life is slipping through my hands. I need to look beyond my own front door for a better life.”

  Edward examined his own well-manicured nails and the shiny gold ring he had purchase
d with his last month’s profits. His lucrative store was one of the region’s largest establishments and his mind for business ensured he didn’t have to bust his knuckles like his brothers.

  “Kentucky is indeed beyond your front door,” Edward scoffed, “more than a thousand miles beyond, half of it through raw wilderness.”

  Stephen turned away from his brothers to look out the window again, and studied the morning sky, cloudless and serene. “Imagine what it would be like—a wide valley, a slow, clear creek sparkling through it. Grass that grows green and thick even when God is tight with the rain. The climate’s mild and the land is so fertile the grass tickles the cows’ bellies.” But even as his soul reveled in this heavenly vision, his mind jerked him back to reality. He needed to get back to Jane. He turned back to face his brothers.

  “Edward, you can live in your grand house, and sell goods year after year. Or, you can come with us. You may die, or, you may experience the greatness of your life,” Stephen said.

  John spoke up. “Maybe Edward will experience the greatness of his life where he is. But we can’t let fear keep us here.”

  A quiet, pensive man, the builder in John loved nothing more than the music of hammers and saws. Stephen understood why John never completely recovered from losing his wife Diana in childbirth. A house full of reminders of her made it difficult to recover. Perhaps it would also make it easier for him to make the move. The most important reminder of Diana stood next to John, his little arm wrapped around his father’s elbow.

  “I feel God calling me to a new life. In a place as fresh as Kentucky, I know we’ll have opportunity and so will our sons,” John said. “I just need a few days to take care of my building projects and put my affairs in order.”

  “Damn it John, your son’s future is precisely what worries me,” Edward shouted. “The wilderness is unforgiving. Do you want Little John facing vicious heathens? Or some of the rough depraved white men of those frontier settlements? I’ve heard most of them acknowledge no superior on earth, and it’s a question if they do in heaven.”