LeClerc 01 - Autumn Ecstasy (7 page)

Beneath him Linsey strained for each breath. Her eyes were tightly closed. She did not need to open them to remember the horror of the face above her. It was a nightmare visage, the thing mothers spoke of to threaten misbehaving children.

When her struggles stilled, Luc eased his hold, supporting himself on his elbow. “I am going to let you go, but I’m not moving far away, only to the other side of the bed.”

Prepared for any sudden movement from her, he lifted up and rolled off her smooth body. He regretted the necessity of covering her obvious charms even as he pulled one of the furs over her.

Linsey grabbed the fur as if it would provide her the protection of a suit of armor. She wondered if her fear had heightened her imagination. Maybe he wasn’t as horrible as she thought. She slowly opened her eyes and found herself staring into eyes as black as night.

“Hello,” Luc said quietly, aware of the fear clouding her face.

“Hello,” Linsey replied inanely, wanting to look at his face but too frightened to move her gaze from his.

“I’m going to get up and add more wood to the fire.” Earlier he had prepared it for the night, but it was the only excuse he could find to leave the bed. And leave it he must before his lust overpowered his good intentions.

At Linsey’s nod, he swiftly rolled over and stood. Dragging a fur with him, he wrapped it around his nude body as he walked across the room.

Linsey carefully kept him in view. She studied his profile as he knelt at the fire. The light from the golden flame danced over a classically sculptured, symmetrically beautiful face. She shook her head slightly, wondering at her imagination. There was no hint of the grotesque countenance she had thought she had seen earlier. In fact, his features were perfect, almost too perfect to be real. The fur draped over his shoulders seemed to accentuate their size, and she realized he was one of the largest men she had ever seen.

Deciding to use his distraction to her advantage, Linsey carefully wrapped a blanket around herself and stood. She knew he would return to the bed once he was satisfied with the fire, and she did not want their next confrontation to occur there. Keeping the table between herself and him, she slowly sat down in a chair. It was laughable to think that the sturdy table would provide any defense should he decide to attack, but it was the only obstacle she could set in his path.

A large knife lay on the edge of the table, and Linsey’s eyes moved from it to the man and back again. She could use it as a weapon. Maybe, if she were lucky, she could provide herself with some protection. Her hand reached hesitantly toward it.

“I mean you no harm, Autumn Fire,” he said quietly over his shoulder. “But if the knife makes you feel safer, hold on to it.”

His back was toward her, and she wondered how he could have known she was reaching for the knife. As he turned, she raised startled eyes to his, and she saw the gentleness in his gaze, a slight smile tugging at the comers of his lips.

There was no mystery in his knowledge of her actions, only years of learning from his Shawnee friends. Luc could have told her that he had been aware of her every move since she had climbed out of bed. He had heard her wrap the blanket around herself and the quiet sound of her steps as she crossed the room. There had been total silence when she reached the table, and he had remembered the knife at the same instant a slight rustling told him she was reaching for it.

Linsey grabbed for the knife when he stood abruptly. Her blanket slipped, and she struggled to hold it in place with one hand while keeping the knife pointed at him with the other.

Luc’s smile was one of gentle amusement. “Forget your nudity in battle,” he advised softly. “There is no place for modesty when the life you are fighting to save is your own.”

He turned away from the fire, and Linsey gasped, for the moment forgetting her struggles. It had not been her imagination. The flames seemed to flare, brightening the room. If one side of his face had been a thing of rare beauty, this side was flawed.

“It is only a face, little one. Skin and bone, scars earned in battle. It can not harm you.”

His voice penetrated her mesmerized stare. As her eyes met his, she found that she wanted to erase his look of understanding. She wanted to apologize for staring so rudely, but not as much as she wanted to turn and run from the cabin so that she never had to see him again.

“I’m sorry,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper.

“For what? For the scars? You were little more than a child when they happened, and I have come to accept them. For staring?” He shrugged lightly. “If I met me walking down a trail, I too would forget the lessons of my mother; I would stare,”

“Does it hurt?” Linsey cringed mentally when she heard herself ask.

“Only when I frighten little children.” Luc rubbed the side of his face in question. “It’s been known to frighten some adults, too.”

“You’re the Bear.” It was a statement.

“Some call me that. I was named Luc LeClerc. You may call me whichever you wish.”

“I think always you are a little of both, but sometimes more one than the other.” Linsey stated with perceptive cognition.

“Each of us is more than one person; we are the echo of many.” He walked to the bed, pushed the furs away and sat down. Leaning back and stretching his big body, Luc sighed. It had been a long day; it would be a while yet before he could find sleep.

“The bed is big enough for both of us and much warmer than the table.”

“No!” Linsey’s hold on the knife tightened.

He shrugged and rolled to his side. The scarred half of his face was in full view, and she averted her eyes from it.

“How did you find my cabin? Why are you alone? Where is your family?”

He did not seem as threatening when he was lying down, and Linsey eased the hold on the knife. She snuggled beneath the blanket and became aware of the chill in the air. Pulling her bare feet up beneath her, she told him briefly of her kidnapping and of Kaleb buying her from Jeb and Zeke.

“He said to tell you he no longer owes you anything.”

Luc nodded his understanding. “I saved him from the Iroquois. You are the paying of a debt.”

“I don’t want to be payment for a debt!” She stood and began pacing the room, one hand clutching the blanket at her neck, the other firmly holding the knife. “I want to return to Philadelphia. I must see about Elizabeth.” Linsey stared into the flames of the fire, her thoughts hundreds of miles away from the cabin in the wilderness.

“I will take you home.”

“When? Tomorrow?” Excitement rushed through her, and her eyes sparkled happily.

Luc grinned at her obvious excitement. “Come spring.”

“Spring?” Linsey sputtered in agitation. “I can’t wait until spring! That’s months away!”

Rolling to his back and folding his hands beneath his head, Luc closed his eyes. “Spend tonight outside. In the morning we will again talk of this trip.”

“Are you crazy? There’s a blizzard going on out there!”

“True. And by tomorrow the snow will be hip deep.” He turned his head and opened his eyes. “With adequate preparations I could survive. Could you?”

“I could try,” she insisted stubbornly.

“We’d get halfway between the cabin and nowhere, and you would give up. I would then have to make the decision of whether to leave you to freeze to death or to try carrying you back here. You are a little thing, Autumn Fire, but I think in the snow you would quickly become very heavy.”

“You arrogant, stubborn — you’re so sure I couldn’t make it. I’ll have you know the trip getting here wasn’t easy, but I made it.” Linsey straightened her shoulders and raised her chin by several inches, trying to find dignity while wrapped in a blanket. “And my name is not Autumn Fire! It is Linsey Marie MacAdams!”

“You floated downriver in weather warmer than it will be again until spring. Now we have snow; soon the river will freeze solid. We would have to walk; … it would be foolish to even consider making the trip now.” A slight smile crossed his face as he looked at her hair shining with a life of its own and at her emerald eyes spitting more flames than the fire behind her. “You are Autumn Fire. The Indians change their names as the person changes. Autumn, the ending of a life cycle, shouted gloriously in colors unmatched by man, as if nature defies anyone to take her for granted.

The fire in you is just beneath the surface, flaming brightly for short moments before it hides again, “Tonight you are Autumn Fire. Tomorrow? We will see.”

“Comparing me to something that is dying, no matter how beautiful, is not a compliment!5’ she huffed. “I will pay you to take me home.”

“Ah, but autumn does not just fade away. It fights desperately until the very end. Even now there are snow-covered leaves clinging to the trees. Nothing can match the beauty of those leaves in full color. So, Autumn Fire, spend the night outside. We will discuss your trip in the morning.”

Linsey paced nervously around the room, the knife dangling uselessly from her fingers as it waved back and forth in agitation.

“Do not drop the knife; it is sharp and would easily remove your toes from your foot.” Luc broke the silence, startling Linsey from her thoughts. “Come to bed. Tomorrow will come soon enough and find the solution for your dilemma. I am tired and would like to sleep this night.”

“Bed?” Linsey clenched the knife tightly, careful to hold it away from her body. “You can’t expect us to share the same bed!”

“It is the only one I have, but it is big enough for both of us.”

“A gentleman would offer me sole use of the only bed.”

“My father was a gentleman; I am not.”

“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me!”

Luc chuckled.
“Ain jel ee thah,
I am too weary to fight you with words. Sleep where you will, but the bed is more comfortable.”

“I shall be perfectly all right in a chair,” Linsey stated haughtily, sitting down abruptly.

“As you wish.” Luc yawned, stretched and grabbed a few of the furs, tossing them in her direction. “Good night.”

She couldn’t believe he was calmly going to go to sleep. Did he really expect her to spend the night sitting up in a chair? Linsey looked at the bundle lying on the floor halfway between the bed and the table. She walked over to it, picked it up and carried it back. The table! It would be hard, and even as small as she was, her feet would still hang over the end; but it was better than trying to sit up all night. She spread one of the thick furs on the table and used a chair to climb up on her make-shift bed.

“Take care that you don’t fall off. The floor is only dirt, but you will find it is very hard dirt.”

Linsey ignored him and settled herself for the night. The table was little wider than she, but it would do for tonight. It would have to. The only other choice was unthinkable! Tomorrow other arrangements would have to be made.

“What did you call me earlier?” she asked abruptly.
“Ain jel ee thdh?”

“What does that mean?”

“It is Shawnee and means ‘my angel.’ “

“I am not your angel!” she stated indignantly.

“Ah, but you are.” His deep voice flowed gently around her, enveloping her in a sound as soft as silk. “You are an angel with the fire of the devil beneath the surface.”

She refused — flatly refused — to give him the satisfaction of a reply. First he compared her to dead leaves, and now this. If he was looking for trouble, she’d be glad to give him all that he could handle … tomorrow. For now she would try to sleep.

Rolling to her side, knees bent so that her feet were under the coverings, Linsey clutched the knife and closed her eyes.

Sleep did not come instantly. She listened to the even breathing of the man across the room and slowly realized that her fear of him had vanished as quickly as it had come. His scars were dreadful, making him appear a demon, but he had seemed to make every effort to put her at her ease. She even felt an intangible sense of security knowing he was just across the room and would come instantly if she needed him.

The same situation would have been unthinkable in Philadelphia. Had she become a different person since she had left home? Could she now accept an intolerable situation as casually as she had once accepted new riding gloves? How could she find security with a terrifying stranger whose immense strength could easily break her in half?

The fire crackled as a log broke, sending sparks of light into the glowing embers. Outside the wind howled a reminder of it6 presence. Across the room Luc sneezed several times.

“God bless you,” she murmured, too softly for him to hear. After all, any angel would do the same.

“Thank you.”

Slowly opening her eyes, Linsey looked across the room, through the legs of the table, and watched the fire dance brightly. She could smell something cooking, and her stomach reminded her of its lack of nourishment. Snuggling deeper into the furs, she knew she would have to get up soon, but it felt so good to be warm and safe. And the bed was so soft.

Bed? Linsey sat up, her gaze roaming the small room. She was alone. Last night had not been a dream; the burning lire was proof enough of that. So where was her companion?