Claimed on the Frontier (7 page)

I’ll not allow?
I frowned, but listened as he continued.

“But there were some young fry on up ahead. Maybe you can join them? There may’ve even been a dog or two.” Matthew’s face lit up as he raced ahead. Aaron’s eyes remained fixed on the road ahead of us, but his voice dipped low as he spoke to me.

“Matthew loves dogs,” he said.


Oh?”

“He’d love one himself, and little does he know that he will have one when we arrive at our new home.”

There it was again.

Our home.

“How did you manage that?” I asked.

“A neighbor had a litter of puppies, and my mother claimed one for our own. He’s a regular hunting dog, but will make a great companion for Matthew. They took ‘im before Matthew knew, and if all goes as planned, Matthew’ll have his dog.”

“He’ll love that,” I murmured.

“Aye.” Aaron nodded.

“He seems afraid of you, you know,” I said, “and maybe he’ll see you’re not
really
terrifying.” The moment the words left my mouth, I wanted to snatch them back and eat them.
Why
had I said something so untoward? I cowered as Aaron turned slowly toward me, his eyes dark and foreboding. Why,
why
did I always have to speak out of turn? I swallowed, fingering the edge of my apron and deciding that silence was the best way for me to proceed. If I didn’t open my mouth, perhaps I wouldn’t say something foolish again.

“Terrifyin’, is it?” he asked. I said nothing, fixing my eyes straight ahead. “You think he thinks I’m terrifyin’?”

I shrugged, hoping if I didn’t respond he would just drop the subject already.

“Girl, look at me.”

With a sigh, I obeyed. To my surprise, his gaze had softened somewhat. “Do you really think he fears me?”

I nodded. “Yes, sir,” I responded. “He’s mentioned to me that you swing a mean switch, and when you come near, he stands straighter and never teases or jests. Yes. He’s scared of you.”

Pursing his lips, he grasped the reins tightly and seemed to be mulling things over before he spoke again.

“Might do
some
people on this wagon good to be terrified of me,” he muttered. I flushed, remembering the unyielding feel of his palm on my backside. Was I terrified of him? Well, no. As easily as I could remember how he punished me, I could conjure up his soft voice when I was hanging laundry, asking me if I was all right, the way he’d handed me a thick blanket the night before when a chill fell, telling me to tuck it in tightly so I didn’t catch a chill.

“Why is that?” I asked. “Do you really want him to fear you? Why would anyone want to be feared?”

Aaron’s eyes darkened as he spoke for his brother.

“Do you fear a waterfall, Pearl?”

I nodded. “Well, yes, sir,” I said.

“It is beautiful, and water is life-givin’, but powerful, no?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you fear the heat of a fire?”

“Of course,” I whispered.

“Both fire and water are life-givin’. Yet when not respected, they can easily harm us.” He paused. “You ought to know this lesson, girl.”

I felt a faint flush creep along my neck. “Yes, sir,” I whispered.

“Fear of those in authority can be healthy,” Aaron continued. “There are different types of fear. Real trepidation that stems from a concern for one’s well-bein’ is not always healthy. But fear that manifests itself in respect for authority can be a safeguard, and in many circumstances, should be valued. Sought even.”

I pondered his words.

Part of me
did
fear him. But beneath his stern exterior, I knew there was a tender man who loved deeply. He’d only been so strict with me because he feared for my safety. There was much to think on, and I mulled this all over as we finished the rest of the day’s journey in silence.

 

* * *

 

“We need water for dinner,” shouted out a young girl not much older than myself. She turned to me and smiled. “Care to join me?”

Aaron spoke out before I could answer. “Thank you, but Pearl stays here.”

Was I to be tied to him, then, as punishment for my earlier misdeed? I frowned at him, but when he turned to me, he fixed me with one of his gazes that made me close my mouth. It appeared I
would
be bound to stay by his side, then, until further notice.

“Am I not to leave your side?” I asked, doing my level best to keep my head about me, and not speak out of turn.

“Not this evenin’,” he said stoutly, but as he brushed the horse, his voice softened as he spoke to me. “Jonas and I had a talk. Seems there are three young men who’ve had their eye on you since we joined the caravan. The only way anyone knows you are spoken for is if you stay by my side. So stay by my side, you will.”

Spoken for?

I was spoken for?

“Yes, sir,” I murmured.

We both turned as a happy squeal a few yards off caught our attention. Jonas had water dripping off his hair and beard, and a young, pretty woman with her hair under a bonnet was running from him, holding an empty bucket in her hand. She waddled, as she was clearly heavy with child. I smiled. She skirted the edge of the wagon, being smaller than he, and he pretended to chase after her, but in a quick maneuver that caught her off guard, he went the other way, and he easily caught her in his arms. She protested and he landed a teasing swat to her skirt-clad bottom, which made her squeal even louder. The young boys further up cat-called, but Jonas ignored them, planting a kiss on the forehead of his pretty young bride.

Aaron smiled as he turned toward me. I didn’t know if it was his excitement in almost nearing our destination, or the contagious joyful energy of the young couple ahead of us.

“Come sit with me by the fire?” he asked.

Me? I actually turned to look over my shoulder. Was there another, prettier young lady standing behind me? Samuel had lit the fire and gone off by himself for a bit as he was wont to do, and Matthew was still off with the young boys, so it was just the two of us alone at camp.

“I’m talkin’ to you, girl,” he said. His eyes grew stern, yet twinkled in the way that I knew he wasn’t angry with me. “You said I wasn’t really terrifyin’. So, what is it then, Pearl? Are you frightened of me?”


No, sir,” I said, but I knew it wasn’t entirely true. I likely was, at least in some small measure. I was afraid of disappointing him. I was afraid of causing him displeasure, and I was most certainly afraid of earning another punishment. But truly fear him? No.

How could I fear the only person I’d ever known who made me feel safe?

“Then come,” he said softly.

There were people milling about, and we had no privacy, but most would assume we were a married couple.

I wanted him to kiss me.

He sat on an overturned log, his large legs stretched out in front of him. I had the strange and overwhelming desire to sit by his feet. I wanted to sit cross-legged, like a little girl, in front of him while his large hand smoothed my hair. I wanted to rest my head against his knee and feel his strength. I was taken aback by the power of my strange desire, and clumsily sat beside him. We sat in comfortable silence by the fire for a time, and I enjoyed the sound of the thrum and crackle of the flames licking at the wood. It felt nice to sit by the fire after a long day, and I couldn’t help but think eagerly of getting to the established homestead. I longed to stretch my aching limbs upon a real bed.

“You once told me you don’t read,” he said.

I nodded.

“Do you want to?”

I looked at him curiously. “Sir?”

“My mother was a schoolteacher back in her day,” he explained. “And I know a thing or two about readin’ myself.”

My eyes went back to the fire, and I marveled at my opportunity. I’d always wanted to read, but it seemed at my age and lot in life, it was a hopeless endeavor. I frowned as I thought of all Aaron’s family had done for me thus far.

“You look troubled,” he said. “What have I said that’s troublin’ you?”

“Oh, no, sir,” I said. “I’m eager to learn to read, and excited about the possibilities.”

He nodded. “Very good.”

“It’s just that… sometimes I wonder how I can repay you for the kindness you’ve shown me.”

He smiled softly, and we sat in silence by the fire some time longer.

I don’t know when I fell asleep, but I was vaguely aware of his deep voice and his hand shaking my shoulder. I startled awake, embarrassed to find my head had fallen against his shoulder. How long he let me stay that way, I didn’t know, but I felt my cheeks flame with embarrassment.

“Come, now,” he said. “It’s early yet, but best get you to bed if you’re dozin’ by the fire.”

For some reason, it was unnerving being woken up like this. My neck hurt from the awkward position, and I felt irritable. I frowned as I sat up. No. No, I would not be sent to bed like a child. I was a full grown woman, and he wasn’t going to tell me what to do.

Frowning, I crossed my arms across my chest.

“I’m fine, thank you,” I said. “I’ll go to bed when I see fit.” I didn’t look at him, but could feel him stiffen beside me.

“Pearl,” he said, warning.

“No,” I said stubbornly.

What would he do, then? Pick me up and carry me to the wagon? Let him then! I would not go willingly. I hated falling asleep and being woken up, and the little rest seemed to stoke my fire and make me more ornery than ever. I didn’t know what I expected him to do. Raise his voice, maybe. Physically bring me to bed himself? Leave me to grouse by the fire?

I felt his hand on my chin as he turned me to look at him. I was frowning, my eyes still blurry from sleep, and I avoided his eyes. But he placed a finger under my chin, lifting my face, and I couldn’t help but look at him. His honey-colored eyes were fierce, and my bravado failed me.

“Brave girl,” he murmured. “Comes with strangers to an unknown land and plows her way through. Risks everything at a chance at a new life.”

I swallowed as he continued, his finger still under my chin, my eyes trained on his.

His voice hardened. “And now you defy me, knowin’ you risk a thrashin’.”

I trembled, but though I did fear him, I also felt a twinge of something different, and primal. Here I was in the presence of a sturdy man, one who would not harm me in any way but rather do the opposite—dedicate himself to making sure I was safe and well cared for. He would not allow me to sabotage myself, but would decidedly ensure my obedience.

He leaned closer to me, so close his breath brushed my ear as he whispered, “Will you obey me, or must I aid you with the flat of my palm against your backside?”

I knew then that he
would
aid my obedience and I wouldn’t sit pretty for some time. I felt stripped of my annoyance.

“I’ll obey you, sir,” I whispered. He pulled back just a little, enough so that his eyes met mine, probing, and his lips were so close to mine, I felt as if it was his own breath I inhaled. He drew me to him, his hand pressed to the small of my back just seconds before his lips met mine. The sensation was quite different from anything I’d ever expected. My hips bucked, and he pulled me to standing so that he towered over me, his strong hands grasping my waist, holding me so that I felt him pressed against my front. The heat of his lips was on mine, and I felt a pulsing throb between my legs as one of his hands grazed the front of my dress. It was scandalous, what we were doing, but in the moment I did not care.

He finally pulled away. He leaned in and whispered in my ear.

“Obeyin’ me is a wise choice,” he said, but then what he said next brought warmth to my cheeks and to my limbs. His voice was husky. “I only have so much self-control, Pearl. I’ve exercised it in one area. If I were to take you across my knee, I’m not sure I’d have any self-control left to give.”

He spun me around and I squealed as his hand smacked my bottom, a farewell swat that renewed the flush in my cheeks.

He only had so much self-control…

Then my attraction to Aaron was not one-sided.

Chapter Five: Home

 

 

I awoke much later than I normally did. Whereas normally when I rose, the sun was just beginning to peek through the fibers of the canvas-covered wagon, when I opened my eyes, the white of the canvas fairly gleamed with light. The camp was alive around us, the sounds of clanking pans and
giddaps
to horses mingled with the sizzle of food being fried upon cast-iron skillets. I smiled because today marked a new day. The previous evening I’d as much as heard Aaron profess his growing fondness for me. And today, we would go home.

Home.

I’d never really had a place I’d called home. The place I lived with the Fitzgeralds was little more than a jail, an uncomfortable, loveless abode I hoped I’d never see again. The fear of what awaited us had me a bit nervous, though. Would Aaron’s mother like me? Would his sister-in-law? Where would I live?
Would
we make it, after all this time?

I dressed quickly, straightened my hair, and tidied up the back of the wagon.

God willing, tonight I would sleep with a proper roof over my head. Though I was never one to want for fancy things, I did so miss sleeping behind a door that latched, to say the least. And I was mighty sick of the same boring food we’d been eating for days upon days. Though I’d hated Mrs. Fitzgerald, I’d have gladly mucked the stalls in the barn or mended her dingy socks for even a crumb of her sourdough biscuits topped with butter or jam. I swallowed at the thought, suddenly realizing how hungry I was.

I lifted the edge of the canvas and righted myself, blinking in the broad daylight and to my surprise, the wagons around us were already beginning their rickety forward march toward Fort Hall. Heavens above, had he let me sleep the day away?

I looked around me quickly, noting that the boys had broken camp and neatly tied our belongings together, the pile of what would go inside the wagon waiting, no doubt, for me to wake.

“Pearl!” shouted Matthew. “Thank goodness you’re awake. I’s afraid I’d have to hold all the darn pots in my hand, and Aaron wouldn’t lemme wake ya!”

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