Page 16 of Wild Sweet Wilderness (Missouri #1)

The dark clouds overhead were rolling away. A few stars appeared in the evening sky. Fully dressed in his dry clothes, Simon stepped around his horse’s rump and viewed the scene of dripping trees and rain-washed hills and valleys. He looked back. Berry was sleeping soundly. Her smooth skin glistened in the soft gloom. Once more, pleasurable sensations started to build. She looked so desirable that he turned away quickly so as not to be tempted to lie down beside her and take her in his arms. There were a few things he needed to know before he could settle down for the night.

Taking his rifle, ammunition, and powder bag, he started toward a hill about a hundred yards away to survey the area. He doubted that the two braves would come after them. They each had a horse, he reasoned with calm logic. It wasn’t likely they would risk death to get a mount for their squaws.

He stood for a long while studying the landscape. To the west, a river of water was running through a wash that had been dry when they crossed over it. Water stood in the low spots, and all around the ground was littered with twigs and leaves torn from the trees by the wind. He silently thanked God that the rain had not come a day sooner. If it had, he would never have been able to trail Berry and the Indians, and she would have been lost to him forever.

Satisfied that they were in no immediate danger, Simon went back to the cave, lay down beside Berry, and pulled her into his arms.

* * *

All day they rode through the rain-soaked wilderness, skirting the flooded lowlands. The course they followed was rugged with fallen trees and choked with underbrush. Simon walked most of the time. Berry, wearing his shirt and riding the horse, tried to shield her bare legs and feet from the sting of the brush they passed. The soreness between her legs was uncomfortable, but she never complained; she was far too happy to complain about anything. Simon, her man, strode confidently ahead, leading the horse with one hand, the rifle held firmly in the other.

The sky was blue gray; the sun, unobscured by floating clouds, poured down its heat. Small animals scattered as Simon and Berry approached, and birds which had been singing merrily took to the wing. Deep forest surrounded them and Berry wondered how Simon knew which way to go.

They reached the riverbank just after sunset. Simon lifted her down from the horse and kissed her lustily before setting her away from him.

“I’ve wanted to do that all day.”

“There’s no reason that I know of why you couldn’t’ve,”

she replied saucily.

“Is lovin’ only for nighttime?”

He whacked her on the backside. He was more jolly, more exuberant than Berry had ever imagined he could be. His dark hair was wet with sweat and his chest and shoulders gleamed with it. His dark eyes were warm and amiable, his wide, full mouth smiling. There was a boyish charm about him now that seemed entirely out of keeping with the serious, silent man she first met.

“Hungry?”

“How can you ask? My stomach has been slapping the heck out of my backbone all day.”

“How about fish for supper?”

“Fish? How’ll you catch it? Do we dare risk a fire?”

“I figure it’s safe enough if we keep it small.”

He unsaddled the horse and led him to water before he staked him in a grassy patch near their campsite.

“Star will let us know if anyone is about,”

he said while he sharpened one end of a branch he’d cut from a small tree.

“He hears every sound. He can see and hear better than a man, and being mountain bred he’s got a strong instinct to survive. That makes him naturally spooky.”

He finished whittling and held out the crude spear.

“Let’s go see if it works.”

Berry stood on the bank while Simon took off his moccasins and rolled up the legs of his buckskins. He stepped carefully into the water and moved upstream holding the spear aloft. He edged close to the bank, waited, then brought down the spear with a powerful motion. There was a mighty splash, followed by Simon’s triumphant whoop. He held aloft a large, silvery fish impaled on the spear. He flung spear and fish up onto the bank and came out of the water.

“That bugger must weigh ten pounds!”

He was as happy and excited as a small boy.

“I learned that trick from Light. It works every time,”

he explained happily.

Berry let out a burst of joyous laughter.

“Oh, Simon! I like your face when you laugh!”

His eyes twinkled at her.

“I’m glad. It’s the only face I have.”

She laughed again and whirled around, her arms above her head. Simon thought she looked like a picture he’d seen of a wood nymph. Her hair was kinky-curly from the damp air. Her lips and cheeks were pink. His shirt came to the middle of her thighs, and the white shift she wore beneath it came to slightly below her knees. Her feet were bare and dirty, but she was lovely—and she was his.

It seemed hours before the fish was cooked, then cooled enough so they could eat it. The meat was juicy and succulent. They agreed that it was quite the best they’d ever eaten. Being so hungry had something to do with it, they admitted laughingly. They put aside a portion of the fish for morning and went down to the river. Standing in the shallows, they washed their hands, splashed their faces, and smiled at each other.

Simon spread a blanket on the grass beneath the boughs of a tree. Berry sat down and tried to comb some of the tangles from her hair with her fingers.

“I thought the Mississippi flowed north and south. I’m sure we traveled west. How can this be the river when we’re still so far from home?”

Simon lay propped on one elbow and watched her. The fire had long since gone out. Through the branches of the trees the stars glittered brightly. Berry’s face was a white blur, but he knew every feature, every line. There’s never been a woman like her, he thought with quickening pride; she’s beautiful and spunky beyond all reason. He couldn’t stop looking at her and could just barely concentrate on what she was saying. She was his to care for, to keep safe. It would be hard now to consider a future without her.

“Simon?”

“Sorry, sweet girl. I was daydreaming. You asked about the river? Just beyond the point where the Missouri flows into the Mississippi it makes a deep bend and curves toward the northwest. A few miles farther it makes another bend going south and then northwest again. I’ve never been that far west, so I headed northeast, knowing sooner or later we would reach the river and could follow it home. We reached it a little sooner than I thought we would.”

“If we had a raft we could float down the river.”

Simon chuckled softly at her logic.

“It’s not as simple as that. That river has a mind of its own. We’d have no way to steer a raft. Besides, Star wouldn’t stand for it. He hates to even cross on the ferry.”

“How long will it take us to get home?”

“Three, maybe four days. It depends on how often we stop—how much dallyin’ we do. . . .”

His hand reached out to caress her ankle and calf. A teasing grin played on his wide mouth, and wild, sweet enchantment rippled through her veins.

“I like being with you, Simon. I’d rather be with you than anyone in the world.”

She moved closer to him and drew his head down onto her lap. Her fingers combed his hair, then trailed down the side of his face.

“I thought I’d never see you again.”

Her voice was strained, as though she was trying not to cry.

“The ugly one wanted to kill me! It seems so strange that they found me when the rest of their party was so far west.”

“They could’ve come down the Missouri to sell some furs. It’s hard to tell about roving renegades.”

Berry felt compelled to talk about the time she had spent with the Indians.

“I suspected they could understand English, so one night I named everyone I could think of. I said, ‘Simon Witcher will come for me.’ I mentioned Fain, Mr. Pike, Mr. Lisa, and I even told them I was the daughter of Mr. Chouteau. They didn’t seem to pay much attention until I mentioned the scout called Light. Then the ugly one hit me and tied me up.”

“Every Indian in the territory along the rivers knows about Light. He’s friend to some tribes and a deadly enemy to others. Oh, Lord, sweetheart! There’s so many ifs I don’t want to think about them. If it had rained a day sooner. If I hadn’t come back to Fain’s when I did. If I’d not found you . . .”

His hand gripped hers so tightly that it was painful.

“Why did you leave Fain’s that morning . . . without a word?”

she asked quietly after a heavy silence.

“What do you mean ‘without a word’? We talked for hours the night before. I told you then that we’d wed and I’d take you to my homestead. There were things I had to do in Saint Louis. It only took me seventeen days.”

“Only seventeen days!”

she sputtered.

“And I suppose you thought I’d be right there waiting when you decided to come back to get me.”

“You’re damn right I did! I was madder than hell when you wasn’t.”

“Only mad?”

she asked, her voice tight.

“Mad and scared! So scared I thought I’d lose my supper. Don’t ever pull a stunt like that again. When I tell you to stay put, you stay put!”

“Then you care for me after all. You’ve never said so.”

“I don’t go to Saint Louis to fetch home a cow, chickens, goods to make curtains and dresses, and a bake oven for every woman that crosses the river,”

he said with exaggerated patience.

“You went to get those things for me . . . for us?”

“For us, you mule-headed little baggage!”

He moved over and drew her down beside him. His arms snatched her up against him and pillowed her head on his shoulder.

“I haven’t called you a mule’s ass lately,”

she said between giggles and snuggled her face against his rough-haired chest.

“True,”

he said and chuckled.

“Do you suppose you’re learnin’ some manners?”

“I got enough manners. What I need is a bath.”

“We’ll find a stream tomorrow and we’ll both bathe. It’s too dangerous to bathe in the river—too many sinkholes.”

He lifted her face and covered her mouth with his. It was a long, leisurely kiss, exquisitely tender and full of sweetness. He leaned over her, his lips savoring hers while his hand moved inside the neck of the shirt and gently massaged her breast beneath her thin shift. Then he raised his head and looked into her eyes. His soft chuckles fanned warm breath on her wet lips.

“It might take us a week to get home,”

he threatened.

“Home to your place or Fain’s?”

“Mine. We reach it before we get to Fain’s. I figure we can stay overnight, then go on down and let Rachel know you’re safe. We’ll get our cow and a few other things I hauled up from the warehouse.”

He paused to kiss her.

“I shoulda had Silas marry us when he wed Fain and Rachel. I thought about it, but didn’t know how it would set with you. You seemed mighty stuck on Fish.”

“Stuck on Fish?”

she repeated. Then a little devil with horns prodded her to say, “He is handsome, and he’s got such good manners. I just never thought about him being stuck on me,”

she lied.

“Do you suppose that’s why he danced with me and taught me the words to ‘Yankee Doodle’?”

“He’s not the man for you,”

Simon said, his tone a growl, mentally kicking himself for mentioning the man’s name.

“Why not? He told me about his home back east. He said I’d be a belle. . . .”

“I’ll tell you why not!”

Roughly his hands gripped her arms and pulled them up to encircle his neck. His face was inches from hers. She could hear the click of his teeth when he snapped his jaws shut.

“Because you belong to me, by God! Even if you didn’t, a weak-kneed sissy britches like him wouldn’t be able to handle you. You’d be leading him around by the nose in no time at all. You need a man who’ll make you toe the line.”

“Make me . . . toe the line?”

She tried to pull her arms from around his neck and push him away from her, but he held them and forced her to stay still.

“I’ll not be any man’s slave, Simon Witcher! My pa was like that: Do this, do that! I hated him! I thought we’d share things . . . be like Fain and Rachel.”

“And we will, as long as you don’t go running off on another wild goose chase. When it comes to the matter of taking sensible precautions, you’ll listen to me. Is that clear?”

“I only wanted to find my pa’s land,”

Berry said stubbornly.

“Don’t mention that goddamn land again!”

He was almost shouting.

“Are you going to hold this against me for the rest of my life?”

“No, darlin’ girl.”

His voice softened.

“I can’t go through the hell again of not knowing if you’re dead or alive, or . . . what’s happening to you.”

“Ahhh . . . Simon, love . . .”

Her mood changed instantly. She pulled his face down and covered his chin with kisses.

“You do care for me! Why can’t you say it?”

“Are the words so important?”

“To me they are. I thought you didn’t care for me. When you went away and left me, I thought you had been just talkin’ . . . funnin’, like men do. I had no words to cling to.”

“All right. I care for you. I’ve never cared for anyone before, except for the woman who took care of me when I was young. I have to get used to that feeling. So don’t be throwing up Fish’s fancy manners to me. I’m not a man to be teased.”

He rolled onto his side and drew her to him.

“Now hush up talkin’.”

“There’s only one way to stop me,”

she whispered happily.

They kissed until they both were moist with urgency. Berry tingled and came alight when his hands moved up under her shift. She pulled away from him, shrugged out of his heavy shirt, then nestled against him. Wherever he put his hands on her, that place grew warm. His hands on her thigh made her body ache with pleasure, familiar pleasure, calling for more.

She knew how to kiss him now. Her lips were soft and moist, her tongue reaching for his. His hand beneath her shift found her quick and wet to his fingers. He unfastened his buckskins, slipped them down, and slid over her. She opened to receive him, flesh sliding hot and sweet along his extended masculinity. Her pubic hair was silky as he entered, penetrating her carefully, conscious of the soreness she must feel from their previous couplings.

“Oh, Simon . . . you don’t have to be gentle,”

she begged and pressed on his buttocks. He had entered her only partially and the ache of pleasure was farther inside. She felt him hot and throbbing, as she was. She arched frantically, urging him on. A fierce life burst within her, the strong hard prodding of his body setting off a clamor of vibrating waves. They kissed and moved together, joined in hungry flesh. She felt him hard and deep inside her body. He shuddered, and the hot splash of his seed awakened a soft explosion from her own body. They lay entwined, flesh glued together by the sweat of their loving.

“Did I hurt you?”

Simon’s breath came in ragged gasps and he moved away, but only a little.

“No! Oh, no. I like doin’ this, Simon. I like lovin’ with you.”

She was still adrift in a hazy world of pleasure.

“I was afraid you might be too sore . . . after last night, and riding all day,”

he said and lifted himself out of her.

“It’s wonderful how we fit together. Don’t you think God did a good job when he thought this up?”

Simon chuckled. She was a constant delight.

“Settle down and get some sleep,”

he murmured.

Berry turned over and insinuated herself into the curve of his body, tucking herself snugly so that her bottom pressed against his lower abdomen. Simon wrapped her in his arms and smiled into the darkness. He held a world of treasure in his arms.

* * *

On the evening of the fourth day they came out of the forest and onto land that had been cleared for planting. They were home—this was Simon’s land.

During the journey they had not seen another human being. They had crossed over swiftly moving streams that poured into the great river and traversed trails that writhed like snakes beneath giant trees like sentinels that threatened to block out the sky. They had carefully skirted a she-bear and her cubs and shivered at the sound of a cougar’s scream.

They had not gone hungry on the trip, due to Simon’s proficiency with his makeshift spear and to the wild berries, plums, and pears that grew jungle-like along the riverbank. While she was with Simon, there was never a time when Berry was afraid. He guided them surely and confidently through terrain that took them at times far from the river, as he chose the path through the tangle of trees, vines, and brush. Berry never questioned his ability to get them home safely. She obeyed his every order. He taught her to be watchful while in the forest and more so when traveling through open terrain.

In the evenings they bathed when possible, ate their meal, and made love. It seemed to Berry that she was living in paradise—that they were the only two people on the face of the earth. Now that it was over, she didn’t know if she was sorry or glad.

Simon led her up the course of a little stream that cascaded sparkling from the crest of a bluff. They came out on an open prairie that extended across a wide plateau overlooking the river. The rich prairie rolled gently away to the edge of the forest. The carpet of waving grass parted to frame the clear blue of the stream that meandered pleasantly across the meadow before plunging over the escarpment to disappear into the bottomland. Nestled against the backdrop of tall cedars was the homestead. Simon’s home site was doubly blessed with the gracious fertility of valley land and a hilltop view.

Simon had built his cabin on a bluff overlooking the river. It wasn’t a high bluff, but high enough, he explained, that they wouldn’t need to worry about the river flooding and washing them away. The cabin was small—about half the size of Fain’s double cabin. There was a lean-to shed and a split-rail enclosure for the animals. That was all. Berry tried not to be disappointed.

“I haven’t spent much time here,”

Simon explained and lifted her off the horse.

“Lardy and I made just enough improvements so I could hold the land. I plan to build a house to the left there among the oaks. I want to put up a barn large enough to hold a winter’s supply of hay, and a smokehouse, and build a landing down on the river.”

Berry stood with her bare toes nestled in the loose dirt and looked at the forlorn cabin.

“Who stays here while you’re gone?”

“Lardy is here some of the time. If we both leave, we nail the door shut. Indians come by every so often and steal food, but that’s to be expected. They don’t figure it’s stealing.”

Simon led Star toward the lean-to and Berry went around to the cabin door. She was surprised to see that it was standing open, hanging crazily from one iron-forged hinge. She was puzzled and disappointed. She hadn’t expected the cabin to be as well cared for as Fain’s, but she hadn’t expected it to be so dilapidated, either. The door moved easily when she pushed on it.

She stood in the doorway because she couldn’t go farther into the cabin for the debris that littered the floor. The place looked like a pigsty! Berry’s nose twitched with distaste as repugnant odors wafted from the room. A hunk of raw, spoiled meat, covered with buzzing flies, lay on the table. Cooking and eating utensils were scattered on the floor along with the contents of a wardrobe that stood beside the window, its doors hanging open, the inside looking like empty, gaping cavities. The straw-filled mattress lay half-on, half-off the bunk.

“What the hell!”

Simon crowded past her and stood among his scattered possessions. He cursed again. Everything in the cabin bespoke savage destruction. Battered utensils lay near the fireplace, the mantel wiped clean of candles and books. Simon’s coal-oil reading lamp lay shattered on the floor.

“Do Indians always make such a mess when they come to steal food?”

Simon picked up a knife, plunged it into the rotten meat, carried it out into the yard, and flung it away from the house. He came back with a bucket of water.

“This isn’t the work of Indians,”

he said gratingly, and pulled the table out into the yard and splashed water over the top.

“This is the work of a goddamn river rat! An Indian wouldn’t leave meat. He’d cook it and take it with him.”

Berry found a pair of Simon’s boots and stepped into them so that she could walk in the room without fear of cutting her feet on the glass. From amid the debris she dragged an iron pot, filled it with water, and set it over a blaze to heat. Then she picked up the clothes and piled them on the bunk, and salvaged what she could from the wreckage on the floor before she swept it clean with the remnant of a broom she’d found in the corner.

Berry and Simon labored with water, lye soap, and mop until the room fairly gleamed with cleanliness. They proudly surveyed the results of their labor and admitted, smiling at each other, that they were ravenously hungry.

“What’s there to eat?”

Simon wiped the sweat from his face and neck on a shirt he had taken from the pile to be washed.

“The only thing that wasn’t spoiled was the cornmeal. I can make us some mush.”

She gave him an auspicious smile.

“I’ve got a jug of sorghum and a few other things hid away in the shed.”

His eyes caught hers and held them with conspiratorial laughter.

Berry had removed Simon’s shirt while she’d worked. She stood in her shift. It stuck to her wet young body, revealing uptilting breasts and a flat, firm belly. Her feet were bare, and loose strands of hair stuck to her wet cheeks. She was still so beautiful and desirable that, just from looking at her, Simon felt a stirring of his maleness.

“How about a bath?”

he said, and from the tone of his voice she knew what was on his mind.

“And after that . . . ?”

Her eyes twinkled into his after they lifted from the evidence of his arousal.

“We’ll eat.”

His eyes teased and his wide mouth stretched into a grin. He whacked her lustily on the backside.

Berry’s merry laughter rang out. This was the man she had dreamed about, the man she would spend her life with. They would laugh and love . . . tease and play. He was roughhewn and capable, yet considerate and tender. During the last few days he had shed much of the serious, protective coating he had worn like a shield to hide his lonely inner self. She loved him so much! Surely he loved her! He had to love her!

She snatched a shirt from the bunk and darted out the door.

“Last one in is a . . . mule’s ass!”

she shouted over her shoulder.

Simon caught up with her by the time she reached the stream and they went splashing into the water together, naked as the day they were born. He gave her a shove and she toppled back into the water, and like children they wrestled and splashed each other. She wrapped her arms around his knees, and he lost his footing and fell, then came up sputtering and coughing. With shrieks of protest she tried to evade his reaching arms. Roaring with the first uninhibited laughter she had heard from him, he grabbed her and ducked her under the water. Then he was kissing her furiously, as if he could never have his fill of her. They fell, but his lips continued to cover hers. He rose to his feet with her in his arms and carried her to the grassy bank.

When they made love it was unlike anything they had experienced before. It was a passionate, furious, explosive loving. They wrestled in sensuous abandonment until their agonizing spasms climaxed on a note of sheer incredulity, endured endlessly, then slowly eased. He held her tenderly, kissing her neck, her shoulders, and her nipples while minutes passed. Then he made love to her again—slowly, gently, giving himself to her with incredible tenderness.

This has to be love, Berry thought with a sense of desperation. This isn’t the animal coupling of male and female. She caressed his back, his shoulders, his buttocks. She rose to meet him, held him, and with every touch tried desperately to convey all the love she had for him.

They bathed again, dried each other’s bodies, and dressed. Darkness was beginning to fall as they walked arm in arm back to the cabin.

“Will we go to Fain’s tomorrow?”

“I think we should. Rachel was worried about you.”

“I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean for her to worry.”

They reached the door of the darkened cabin and Berry stepped up on the doorstone, turned, and put her arms around his neck. Their faces were on a level and she kissed his nose before setting her lips against his.

“Rachel was the only person I ever loved or even cared about after my mother died. Then I met you. I love you, Simon.”

“You do, huh?”

His arms tightened around her.

“Yes, I do!”

she said stoutly.

“You love me, too. Someday you’ll shout it! It’ll just come boiling out of you!”

He lifted her and swung her around before he set her back down on the doorstone.

“You’d better fix that mush,”

he said with a trace of huskiness.

“I’ve got to keep up my strength if I’m going to be doin’ all this lovin’.”

“Simon! You’re a . . . horny toad!”

She giggled helplessly, bit his neck, and danced away.