Hunter’s Moon Page 9

  Sarie stared absently at her folded hands, and Mike didn't know if she was thinking about Darcey or her new career. He nudged her elbow. "You'll make a lot of money, Sarie. You can help your maw and the youngin's have a better life. And this woman, Molly, she'll be kind to you. She'll treat you just."

  She looked up at him and asked, "Will you come there to see me sometime?"

  When he answered bitterly that he was a regular customer there, his answer seemed to convince her. "I'll go, Mike," she murmured. "I think I'd kill myself before I'd come up here again."

  Mike reached across the table and patted her shoulder awkwardly. "I think you made a good decision, Sarie. I'm sorry I couldn't come up with something better. But that bastard out there hasn't left anything else for you."

  He paused a minute in thought. "The truth be known, I don't think it's a bad way to earn a livin'. All of Molly's girls seem to like it fine."

  "I'll do my best to please, Mike, but I been thinkin' maybe I'm not good-lookin' enough for that kind of work."

  Mike leaned back and studied her face and figure seriously and objectively. Her features were pleasant and her shape wasn't bad, he decided. In fact, many men liked their women on the plump side. "Sarie, you'll do fine. Looks ain't that important anyhow. The main thing is how you treat a man . . . and perform. I ain't got no worries about your performin'. But you could loosen up a little and do more talkin'."

  Before Sarie could answer, Jake entered the hut and ordered her to bed.

  At last a day came that was warm, with water dripping off the hovel's roof. The snow was finally beginning to melt. Mike sighed. He must soon return to the settlement. He listened to the steady drip, drip, and his mind traveled back there, and to Darcey. He wondered if she and Jarvis were married yet and repressed a groan at the idea. He still wasn't ready to face that possibility.

  His big worry now was that he wouldn't be able to keep his hands off her should he meet her alone some day. That she might be his brother's wife would mean nothing to him, he feared.

  When patches of green began to show through the snow, Mike knew he could no longer put off the journey. Early one morning, he said to Sarie, "Get your things together and pack some grub."

  Not completely convinced that Mike could just take her and go, she looked at him, her face a mixture of fear and gladness. "Is this it?" she quavered. "Are we goin' now?"

  Noting the wariness in her eyes, Mike questioned, "Are you havin' second thoughts, Sarie?"

  Without hesitation, she exclaimed, "Oh, no, Mike. I would go anywhere in the world with you."

  "All right then. Wipe that worried look off your face."

  Mike began to gather his gear, and as he worked, he found himself whistling softly. The time he had waited for all winter was finally here. Today he was going to beat the brutal Jake to a pulp. He could hardly wait to feel his fists sinking into the soft face and fat belly. He pulled tight the straps on the deerhide pouch and tossed it against the door. Then with a catlike tread, he walked over to the bed. A mirthless smile came over his lips as he spoke. "I'm leavin' today, Jake." He waited a moment, then added, "I'm takin' Sarie with me."

  Jake jerked up on an elbow and stared owlish at him. When his whiskey-soaked brain fully took in Mike's meaning, he roared like a maddened bull. He bounded out of the bed, his body slightly bent. With his arms hanging loosely, he started around the bed, his pig eyes glaring.

  Sarie in fear and nervousness, giggled. Jake looked like an overfed ape to her. But the giggle choked off and only stark fear remained when Jake lunged toward her. "The hell she's going with you," he yelled. She stays here another month. That's the deal I got with her Maw."

  His reaching fingers had merely brushed the material of Sarie's sleeve as she jumped behind Mike. And when Jake came close to reach around him, Mike, grinning like a devil, thrust out a hand and grabbed a handful of dirty underwear. Holding him forcibly, he stared at the quivering mass in contempt. "Jake, you no good bastard," he ground out. "I'm gonna beat the livin' hell out of you."

  The fat man wilted like a blade of grass under a summer sun.

  A savage fist swung out, driving deep into the pit of Jake's fat paunch. A grunt of air went whooshing out of his mouth, and he sank to his knees. But when he began to fall forward, the same punishing fist caught him full in the mouth and pushed him back again. Mike hit him again, and blood and teeth splattered the hearth. A fugitive smile twitched at Sarie's lips as she watched Mike strike her uncle again and again.

  His chest heaving, Mike dropped his fists and got to his feet. After he had rested a second, he reached down and grabbed the half-conscious man by the collar and dragged him to a chair. Slamming him into it, he stood over him, panting. "Listen to me, you lousy son-of-a-bitch," he gasped. "If you ever bother this woman again, I'll find you, and I'll beat you to death."

  Jake was a beaten man and nodded his head in mute agreement.

  While Sarie finished packing her few clothes and gathered some food in a pack, Mike washed his cut and bruised hands. A smile of satisfaction spread over his face. "I ain't felt this good in a long time," he said to Sarie.

  Also, now that he had made the first move toward home, there was a tingling excitement in his chest, and he was anxious to get away. He admitted to himself that he was on fire to see the lovely Darcey again—to possess her if he could.

  Sarie was finished and they were ready to leave. Mike scanned Sarie's appearance briefly and was pleased with her. There was no resemblance between this woman and the one he had seen on his arrival. He needn't be ashamed to ask Molly to take her on.

  Mike opened the door and gave Jake one last look. He sat with bowed head, a far cry from the man who had once ruled supreme over Sarie. Mike nodded his head, satisfied.

  But not so was the case with Sarie. Although Mike had pounded him unmercifully, she would not feel completely revenged until she got in her own licks at the man who had nearly ruined her.

  On silent feet she moved to where he sat. He was groaning softly as he explored his bloodied mouth for broken teeth. She stared at him intently for a moment, then spat on his head. He jerked erect with an angry gleam in his eye, and without warning she lifted her booted foot high and brought its sharp heel down between his legs.

  Jake's mouth snapped open, and his agonized scream mingled with Mike's roaring laughter.

  "From the sound of them nuts crackin', Jake, I don't think you'll be lookin' for a woman soon," Mike managed to choke out.

  Still laughing uproariously, Mike led Sarie out the door, the cursing voice of Jake faintly floating after them.

  They swung into the forest and headed south. Mike grinned down at the figure who strode so jauntily at his side. "You know, Sarie, you've got a little bitch in you, after all."

  She grinned back at him. It was the first time in her life she had ever hit back. She liked the feeling and decided that she would do it more often.

  The long trip lay in front of them, and they stretched their legs in long easy strides.

  On the fourth day out, Mike began recognizing landmarks, and one late afternoon, he knocked on Molly's door.

  A big, flashy woman wearing her trade on her face opened the door. "Mike Delaney," she greeted him loudly and warmly. "Where have you been all winter, you big ugly devil?" She pumped his hand up and down. "My girl's sure been gettin' a rest with you gone. That is until your brother Jarvis shows up."

  Mike tried to hide his surprise. "Is Jarvis still comin' around?"

  "Yeah, he still comes around. Not as often as he did. But often enough, accordin' to the girls. What makes you ask?"

  "Oh, I don't know. I thought he might be married by now."

  "No, not yet. I hear he's courtin' a young widow though. Hear she's a real knockout.

  "The whole settlement is wonderin' what Meg Johnson is gonna do about it. She's got her belly full again, I guess you know?"

  Over the drone of Molly's chatter, a song ran through Mike's mind. "She's not married, sh
e's not married."

  He felt someone tug at his elbow and looked down.

  "Who is your friend, Mike? I usually don't have women visitors," Molly laughed.

  Mike laughed with her. "This is Sarie, Molly. I was hopin' you'd take her on, give her a job."

  Molly studied him, skepticism in her eyes. Was he serious? She answered him carefully. "I got a cook and a maid, Mike. You know that."

  "I don't mean that kind of work, Molly. I mean work like the other girls do."

  Molly grinned. "I wasn't sure." She walked over to Sarie and began studying her as though she was a mare on the selling block. She ran her fingers lightly over Sarie's breasts and buttocks to test for firmness. Sarie blushed and Molly laughed. "Just want to make sure you're not burned out, Sarie," she said gently.

  "She's real good, Molly," Mike interrupted. "I spent most of the winter with her, and I ain't had any better."

  Molly's smile was amused. "Probably wore her out, too."

  He grinned at her good-naturedly, and she continued, "God knows you've had enough women to know a good one when you've bedded her."

  She stopped her inspection and stood with her arms folded across her large bosom. She was silent for a moment, then turned to Mike. "You know, Mike, what pleases you might not please the next man. But I'll give her a chance. There's gonna be a big party tonight, and if she gets on with the men, I'll keep her permanent."

  "Fair enough, Molly. You won't be sorry, I promise you." As an afterthought, he added, "Maybe I'll stay on for the party."

  "You're welcome to come, Mike, but you can't use Sarie. I want the other men's opinion of her."

  Mike tilted his head and looked at Molly from the corner of his eyes. "Maybe I'll spend the night with you."

  Molly roared. "Oh, no, you don't. I'm too old for your antics."

  Sarie's head swiveled back and forth between them, her confusion growing. Their frank, open talk made her uneasy. She wondered if this was what Mike meant when he told her to open up and talk more. She was afraid she would never be able to join in such give-and-take.

  Jake and Mike were the only men she had ever known intimately, and they had always gotten right down to business. There had been no easy talk and laughter between them.

  Molly tapped her on the shoulder. "Come on, Sarie. I'll introduce you to the other girls and find you something fancy to wear tonight. Then you'd better try to get a couple hours' rest. It's gonna be a busy night."

  She followed Molly down a long hall, a hall that she was to walk many times.

  Mike sighed in relief and picked up his gear and rifle. He'd get on home, he guessed.

  CHAPTER 11

  Darcey lay in the feathery softness of the bed, her feet stretched to the hot bricks that Simon always put there. Downstairs the mantle clock struck twelve and she still lay awake. Most nights lately she had cried herself out, and only a dull ache remained.

  The knowledge that Mike loved another woman and that this woman was carrying his child was wearing her down.

  She vaguely remembered the walk home that night and how she tried to hide her tears from Jarvis. Surprisingly, it had been easy. Jarvis had been preoccupied, and she wondered what had filled his mind so. Now that she thought of it, he hadn't quibbled about leaving the party early, either. Well, no matter.

  A wolf's cry came faintly from off a hill, its broken howl piercing the stillness. Darcey turned her head into the pillow and whispered angrily, "Howl, damn you, howl. Always helling around leaving your seed where it doesn't belong."

  She arose late the next morning, unrested, and unrefreshed. Descending the stairs, she sat at the table and reached for the coffee pot. She ignored the hot breakfast that Cindy had waiting for her.

  Cindy, watching her with dark disapproval, sat down and poured a cup of coffee for herself. Sipping the hot liquid, she studied the pale haggard face. Something serious was bothering this girl whom she loved as her own. She made up her mind to get to the bottom of it.

  She laid a work-worn hand on Darcey's arm. "Darcey, Child, won't you tell me what's wrong? Me and Simon know that there's somethin' botherin' you bad."

  Belatedly, Darcey realized how her behavior had worried the two people who were so dear to her. "It isn't fair that they should have to fret about me," she scolded herself. "My suffering is a private thing, and I must keep it that way." She knew that she must begin to act in a normal manner from now on. She must somehow overcome this longing for Mike that always lurked in the background. If she didn't, she would surely be lost.

  Forcing a bright smile on her face and choosing her words carefully, she said, "Honestly, Cindy, there isn't anything wrong. It's just that I'm so tired of the snow and cold."

  From across the room, Simon made a statement that brought a bright smile to her face. "This weather is gonna come to an end soon. Durin' the night I heard the ice breakin' up along the river. That's a sure thing that spring is on its way."

  "Does it really mean that, Simon?" she asked. "You're just not saying that to pacify me?"

  When he smiled, she gave a low laugh and jumped up from the table. She flitted about the room, her thoughts flying to the coming of spring. Charlie had said that Mike would be gone all winter. That meant he'd be back in the spring when the snows melted.

  His dark, brooding face appeared before her. "Ah, to see him again," she thought. Then the memory of Meg came to torment her and she cried out silently, "What difference would it make if I should see him again? He'd only look at me with those cold, arrogant eyes and turn away."

  For a sweet moment she remembered those hard eyes going soft as he looked at her, and a small voice whispered, "He doesn't love the dark woman."

  "Who exactly is the dark woman?" her mind demanded. She meant to find out. She would ask Clara. There was a downright uncompromising honesty about that good woman, and from her she would get the truth.

  She flung a shawl around her shoulders, and in a swirl of petticoats she was leaving and calling over her shoulder, "I won't be gone long."

  Clara greeted Darcey warmly when she knocked on the door a short time later. She helped her off with her wrap and led her to the warmth of the fire. "How are you feeling today, dear?"

  "I feel fine, Clara," she smiled and sat down and held her feet to the fire.

  Clara took a seat beside her. "I was afraid you were comin' down with somethin' last night, you looked so peaked."

  Darcey glanced around the room and was gratified that they were alone. It would be difficult to question Clara with the men here. Especially Jarvis. Something warned her that he wouldn't want her and Clara discussing the woman.

  She held her chilled fingers to the leaping flames and smiled at Clara. "Is it true that when the ice breaks up, spring is on its way?"

  "That's the first sign, Darcey. Then the sun gets a little warmer and shines a little longer. And after that the long rains begin, and soon it's nice and green again. I for one can hardly wait."

  "You and me both," Darcey sighed. "It's been a long winter."

  Clara looked puzzled. How could Darcey think the two months she had been here was a long time. A young girl, supposedly in love, shouldn't even notice the weather. For the first time it occurred to her that perhaps Darcey didn't love Jarvis.

  Quietly she asked, "Have you been lonely the last few months, dear?"

  "Well, no. Not lonely, really. Just edgy."

  "I see," Clara murmured, Darcey's words telling her a great deal.

  Clara had learned to love the wild and beautiful girl and had completely forgotten about her money. It was Darcey's strength and character that interested her now. She had hoped that it would rub off on Jarvis. Lord knew he was in need of both.

  An easy silence built between them. Darcey mused on how to broach the subject she had come to discuss. The direct way was the best way. She cleared her voice and began.

  "The night of your party, Clara, who was the dark woman with the old man? I didn't know either one of them."

&nb
sp; When Clara became noticeably nervous, Darcey was convinced that there was some mystery about Meg Johnson.

  Clara fidgeted with her apron, dreading the questions that were sure to follow. She was afraid that her answers would lead Darcey to the knowledge of Jarvis's relationship with Meg. Anxiously she wondered how much Jarvis had told Darcey about his and Meg's affair, how much she should reveal.

  She sighed raggedly. Let the chips fall where they would. If Darcey asked questions that were pertinent to her happiness, she would answer them truthfully.

  She turned to Darcey and answered, "That was Meg Johnson and her husband."

  For a second, Darcey thought that she hadn't heard correctly. Had Clara really said, "husband"?

  When Clara repeated her answer a singing exuberance swept over her. "Her husband? The man looked old enough to be her father."

  Clara gave a wry grin. "Yes, I guess Abe is old enough to be Meg's father."

  "I'm surprised that she is contented with a man so much older."

  "Huh. Contented," Clara retorted indignantly. "She has chased and laid with just about every man in these hills." She glanced at Darcey and added deliberately, "I'd say that she ain't missed any single man over twenty."

  Her face radiant, Darcey exclaimed, "Really, Clara?"

  Clara stared back at her, her mouth hanging open. "What ailed the girl? Didn't she know that she had practically told her right out that Jarvis was included in those men? She shook her head in confusion and continued to answer Darcey's leading questions.

  In the end, Darcey concluded that in all likelihood Jarvis had fathered Meg's baby. He had deliberately lied about Mike. But more important, she had learned much of Mike. She learned that he was a loner who loved the wilderness. That he was hard. He was fearless and drank too much. And in Clara's words, "Sometimes he gets meaner than a barrelful of snakes, and when he's drunk or mad, he's a man to be left alone."

  Although most of Clara's information was unfavorable about Mike, Darcey drank it in, her own wild nature in accord with his.

  They lapsed into silence again. The bright sun shone through a window, and the two women basked in its warmth, immersed in their thoughts.