Dan stood on the top of the rise looking down at the cabin he had built with his own hands. Beyond it was the fort he had raised. Two trips on the path to and from them and still he had seen no sign of his wife or his Indian friend. He knew he should wait until morning before searching again. In the daylight he might find a sign he had overlooked in the dark - though most likely the pounding rain had washed them all away.
If there was anything to wash away.
He sighed and shook his head. That Thompkins woman's words were like a slow poison. He knew Rebecca. Knew Mingo too - and trusted them both. Still, the last thing she had said kept echoing in his head.
'If you were ever home, you'd have seen it yourself and been able to stop it. Now it's too late.'
Had he neglected Becky? Had he been so bent on building a future for her that he had forgotten to pay attention to her along the way?
Genuinely struck to the core, Daniel Boone turned back towards the trees and began to walk the path for the third time.
"Mingo, no."
"Rebecca, I thought we had been over this territory before. You are shivering. And there is nothing else here to keep you warm."
She stared at him. "But it's not...."
"Proper?" He sighed. "One would think you were the one who had been raised in the aristocracy. I thought the sort of person who chose to settle on the frontier was the sort who dared to break the rules."
Rebecca bit her lip. She was still troubled by her momentary lapse. "Mingo, I don't know...."
"Well, I do. I will not return you to Daniel with pneumonia." When she still didn't give him permission, he added, "Think of your children then. You would not want them to be motherless?"
That did it. She nodded her head once quickly.
Mingo masked the smile in his eyes as he sat down beside her. He opened his arms and waited. "Rebecca?"
She sighed and then shifted towards him, stiffening as he encircled her with his arms. Then, as the warmth of his body began to course into hers, she gave in and laid her head on his shoulder.
"Is that better?"
She nodded and murmured, "Mm hmm. Much."
For some time they remained still, listening to the rain as it pounded outside the cave. The light was beginning to break and a new day was dawning.
Finally she stirred. "Mingo?"
"Yes."
"Do you ever wonder about the choices you made in your life?"
The Cherokee laughed. "Look at me, Rebecca. Once I dined with nobles and sat at king's tables. Now I wear feathers and carry a whip, run with mule skinners and trappers, and share my supper with natives in breech-cloths who sleep beneath the stars. I wonder every day," he sighed and shifted, "but I have no regrets."
"No? That's nice...."
There was something in her voice. Something different. It startled him. "Do you?"
She shifted her head so her long red hair fell softly across his vest and looked towards the cave mouth. "Sometimes...."
"Rebecca?"
"Sometimes I wonder. What would it have been like if I had married someone different; a gentleman perhaps, with a fine house and fine clothes? With a carriage to take me to town, and to dances and balls." She sighed and moved closer to him. "I wonder sometimes what it would be like to let my children out of my sight without fear. And to not feel this empty pit in my stomach every time my husband goes out the door, wondering if he will come in it again." Her voice was soft. "If I will ever see him again."
The tall native remained silent.
"I wonder, sometimes, what it would be like to be married to a man who listened to me - really listened." She yawned. "Like you do."
Mingo drew a deep breath. "I am not so different from Daniel."
"Oh, yes, you are." She glanced up at him, blinking languidly as sleep sought to overtake her. "Dan is all fire and action. You are like cool water. And water that runs deep."
He shifted suddenly and pulled a little away from her.
That woke her a bit. "Mingo?"
"Nothing, Rebecca. Just a kink in my arm. Go to sleep."
As she returned her head to his shoulder, he frowned.
It was the first time that day he had lied.
Morning had come and still there was no sign. And what was worse, the Reverend Martins had joined him with several of the men from the settlement. They were looking ugly. He could just imagine what the nosey spinster had told their wives, and their wives had told them.
"Now hold on," he began in answer to their angry shouts. "I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation for this. Maybe they got lost - "
"A Cherokee? In the woods atween his home and yours? You know better'n that Dan." Matt Lewis said.
Daniel swallowed the unreasonable fears he had been battling the whole night. He was exhausted, having gone thirty hours with very little sleep, and his mind was playing tricks on him. "You all know Becky. Your wives are friends of hers. "How can you - "
"It ain't your woman we're questionin'. It's that savage. You shouldn't have ever brung him here, Dan. They ain't to be trusted."
"You think Mingo took Becky?" He didn't know whether to be appalled or relieved. At least Mrs. Thompkins' venom hadn't infected all of them.
"That's right, took her against her will." The man before him paused and looked at his fellows. "Least ways, that's the most reasonable explanation...." His voice trailed off as he avoided Dan's eyes.
Yet.
"Rebecca?"
The redhead started and sat up. She had been laying by herself with Mingo's thick buckskin jacket over her. The tall native stood by the cave entrance. A small fire was burning near her feet. She smiled and held out her hands. "Mingo, how?"
"The sun is up. Once I could see, I was able to locate a few dry leaves and twigs deep within a crevice inside the cave mouth. My flint was dry and so was the bit of fabric from your petticoats...."
"And food!" She noticed a roasted rabbit laying near the fire. Then she smiled. "I am usually doing this for you."
"Turn about is fair play, Rebecca. I have already eaten. Please...."
She shifted and moaned as she reached forward.
"Rebecca. Stay where you are. I was forgetting. Here." He crossed to the fire and pulled the shoulder of the rabbit free and handed it to her. Then he crouched and looked into her eyes. "How are you?"
She took a nibble and then rested the joint on her skirt. "Not very hungry after all." She hesitated and then added quietly, "About last night. You know I love Dan...?"
"With all your heart and soul." He smiled. "Yes."
"It's just...."
He touched her hand briefly. "We all dream what it would be like to walk in another's shoes - or moccasins."
She laughed. "Yes...."
"I have thought, from time to time, what it would be like to be your husband." He paused and then quickly rephrased the sentence. "To be like Dan, married, with a wife and a family."
"You would make a good husband, Mingo. Caring. Considerate." She frowned. "Why aren't you married?"
"Rebecca." The tall native rose to his feet. "I don't like the look in your eye...."
"Have you seen that new girl in town? The one living with the Petersons?"
"Rebecca..."
"She was educated in England..." At his look, she laughed gently. "Well, she was...."
"Thank you, no. I have had more than my fill of intelligent women and their conversation for quite some time to come." He offered her his hand. "Do you think you can stand?"
She drew a deep breath. "I can try."
"I checked your leg. Its healing nicely," he remarked as he helped her to her feet. "There is no infection."
"Thank goodness." She smiled at him and then gasped as her head began to spin. "Oh dear...."
He reached out to steady her. "You haven't had enough food."
"I can't eat. I'm too worried about Dan and the children - "
" - being worried about you."
Becky nodded. "I'd like to go home."
"If you will just give me a moment to gather my things, I will pick you up again - "
"Mingo! You don't mean to carry me all the way back to the cabin after all...."
"Do you have any another suggestions?" He glanced at her. "I assure you I am open to any that have merit."
Becky thought a moment. Then she sighed. "Not really...."
"Well then, milady...." He secured his rifle over his shoulder and opened his arms. "Your coach awaits."
Dan found it hard to contain himself. He had spied something at last. Near the edge of the road there were distinct marks in the mud; one, if not two sets of feet had struck it hard and slid to the bottom of the ravine. The most likely explanation was that someone had fallen and someone else had gone to rescue them.
Dan narrowed his green eyes as he fingered the tracks and sighed. Now if he had just been alone.
The big man pivoted slowly, wondering what sort of punishment Jehovah would mete out to him for leading a reverend and a bunch of 'righteous' men down the wrong path.
"So, Mr. Boone. Did you find anything?"
Dan tipped his coonskin cap back and shook his head. "I think I am going to have to admit you were right, Reverend...."
The preacher's narrow face was smug. "Yes, Mr. Boone?"
The frontiersman raised his voice so his neighbors would just happen to overhear. "About one thing. Becky and Mingo must not have come back this way. I think we are just going to have to go on lookin' until we find them."
The Reverend Martins eyed him suspiciously. "From what I have heard about you, Mr. Boone, you are not a man to give up this easily. This does not sound like you."
"Well, it isn't everyday a man's wife disappears with his best friend." He continued on in the same vein. "You know?"
"This heathen is your 'best' friend?"
"I'd say so. At least, up until now." That last line made him squirm a bit. He knew he was adding fuel to the fire, but he needed desperately to get rid of them. Later on he would find a way to put it out, once and for all. "Reverend Martins, can we speak man to man?" He inclined his head toward the half dozen settlers who were pretending not to listen. "Apart from the others?"
The reverend nodded. "Certainly, Mr. Boone."
They moved to the side of the trail and stopped beneath an old oak tree which was dripping with the remnants of the night's storm. Dan placed his hand on the man's black coat. "Now I ain't sayin' I believe anythin' bad about Mingo or Becky. But I haven't been home as much as I might, and I can see her doin' this to sort of spite me."
"Spite you, Mr. Boone...."
Dan pursed his lips and tilted his head. "Well, Becky is Irish, you know? By blood. When the mood suits her, that woman could go up against a polecat and scare it back a month of Sundays." He drew closer to the preacher and lowered his voice. "Now, what I need from you, Reverend, is a little help. I'd like to send those boys on towards the west and find my wife by myself."
"But Mr. Boone...."
"She is my responsibility, after all." His eyebrows arced. "Isn't that what the Good Book says?"
"Well, yes...."
Dan moved even closer. "And if I have to deal with something.... Shouldn't that be between me and her? Or me and Mingo?"
The gray-haired man thought a moment. "I suppose so."
"Well, Reverend. What I am going to do is tell those men the signs all point away from the fort. Then I want you to take charge."
"And what are you going to do?"
"Fall back as soon as I can without being noticed, and search these woods."
"You are not asking me to lie. Are you, Mr. Boone?"
"No, Reverend." Dan wrapped his fingers around Tick Licker and smiled. "Just to keep your mouth shut."
Mingo paused to draw a breath. He had been walking steadily for nearly an hour, carrying Rebecca. All around them the woods were waking. The sun was streaming down and the day was actually growing warm.
"Where are we?" the redhead asked.
"Near where you fell. The cave I took you to was actually in the opposite direction from the settlement, but I knew it was there, and so I made for it rather than hunting a closer one in the rain."
She lifted her arms from his neck. "You can put me down now."
"Rebecca, no...."
"Let me try to walk. You look exhausted."
The tall Cherokee sighed. He was exhausted. He hadn't eaten much or slept for nearly thirty-six hours. "No. I can continue...."
"Mingo. Now." She used the stern voice she was often forced to employ with her headstrong son. "You do remember what you told Israel?"
The raven-haired man laughed. "I surrender. This is one battle I cannot possibly win. The enemy is entirely too disarming."
Swinging her down, he gently planted her feet on the wet earth and then watched as she put her weight on her injured leg. She glanced at him and then bit her lip and paled. A moment late she started to fall. Mingo reached out for her and lost his balance in the soggy grass, and the two of them landed in a jumbled heap on the ground.
"Well," a familiar voice remarked casually, "perhaps there is somethin' to those rumors after all."
The two looked up with a start.
"Dan!"
Daniel Boone grinned at his disheveled wife. Her hair was tumbling in matted clusters about her face. Her white skin was smeared with mud, and his favorite blue dress was ripped so her petticoats were showing.
He had never seen anything so beautiful in his life.
He nodded to his Cherokee friend who was busy trying to extricate himself from under her.
"Mingo."
"Daniel..." The tall native cleared his throat. "Rebecca fell. We had to seek shelter for the night. This is not...."
Dan held up his hand. "No need for explanations between friends." Then he noticed the blood smeared on Mingo's hands and vest. "You hurt, Mingo?"
He followed his stare. "Not this time," he said, "it's Rebecca. She has injured her leg."
The big man's face had had a playful smile plastered on it, but he sobered instantly when he heard she had been hurt. He strode to his wife's side and, handing his rifle to his friend, tenderly lifted her skirts to look at her expertly bandaged wound. After a moment, he reached out and touched her cheek. "Becky, are you all right?"
She frowned at his expression. She could tell he was angry. "Dan?"
Mingo was puzzled as well. "It was a snake, Daniel. It frightened her and she fell from the path. There is no one to blame - "
"Oh, yes, there is." He stood with his wife in his arms. "A different kind of snake. But one whose poison is just as deadly."
"Daniel?"
"Let's get Becky somewhere warm. You and I have got a little plannin' to do."
"Miss Thompkins. Miss Thompkins?"
The cabin door opened slowly and a puzzled gray face appeared. The woman blinked. "Why, Mr. Boone? Whatever are you doing here? And at this hour of the morning?" She was still in her cap and gown and had obviously just risen from bed a short time before.
He had his coonskin cap in his hand and was looking contrite. "Well, Miss.... My wife has a powerful need to talk to you."
"You wife?" The spinster's eyes widened. "You mean you found her?"
"Well, yes."
"Was she with that heathen?"
Dan seemed to frown. "Well, yes and no. I'll let her tell you about that - you bein' another woman and all. It seems she'd spoken with you before....at one of the choir meetin's."
The woman nodded solemnly. "Yes."
Dan ran a hand through his thick hair and looked chagrinned. "I guess she decided to show me I was bein' a mite neglectful. Overlookin' her, you might say."
"This was all a prank, Mr. Boone?" The woman was a bit appalled.
He winked and replaced his cap. "Well, after all, Miss...she is Irish."
Miss Thompkins had insisted on taking a moment to throw her long coat about her nightgown, but Dan had refused to allow her time to change. Her gray hair was loose and unkempt and as they walked she hugged her Bible to her chest like a shield. Momentarily, she asked the tall man beside her, "Just exactly where is your wife, Mr. Boone? This is not the path to your cabin, is it?"
"Well, Miss. No, it isn't. I had to leave her at the Calloways. She's injured her leg and couldn't walk."
"Injured? Nothing that savage - "
"Now Miss, I know you have it in for Mingo for some reason," he countered, "and I ain't sayin' you haven't got a right to your feelins', but he really is a decent sort of fella."
"He's an Indian, Mr. Boone. The Good Book says, 'Be ye not unequally yoked together with unbelievers.' After all...."
Ignoring her, Dan held his hand up suddenly. "What was that?"
The woman paled. "What?"
"There. That bird. You hear it?"
She moved a tiny bit closer to him. "Isn't that just a bobwhite?"
"Well, Miss, I think not. Not here and at this time of day." He glanced sideways at her, hoping her wilderness training was as poor as her manners. "Might be one Cherokee or Shawnee calling to another one."
"Indians? Here? In the broad daylight?" Her voice squeaked.
"Yes, Miss." Dan took her hand and laid it on his arm. "Why don't you just stay right close to me and that way I can keep you safe from harm?"
The spinster looked up at him and nodded her thanks.
Dan looked ahead. They were almost at the fork.
Now, if Mingo was just on time.
"Do you mind if I sit down, Mr. Boone? I am quite worn out. Is it much farther to the Calloways?"
"Why no, Miss." Dan patted her hand. "How about this rock over here?" As he was leading her forward he heard the unmistakable sound of a bobwhite again, but this time the song was reversed from the normal order.
The woman jerked. "Is that another Indian?"
He frowned. "Well, it might be, Miss. Perhaps I had better - "
"I hear something, Mr. Boone. Someone is coming through the trees!"
"Yes, they are." He took hold of her waist and briefly met her eyes. Then he said in a loud voice, "We better get down. We wouldn't want anyone to see us."
A moment later the men from the settlement, led by the Reverend Martins, burst through the foliage and came to a dead stop.
Martha Potts was laying on the ground, in her nightgown, with her hair undone, underneath Daniel Boone.
"Miss Thompkins! Really!"
The woman's eyes went wide. Dan excused himself and stood up to face the other men. His eyes sought Mingo's. The Indian was lingering at the back of the crowd, his arms crossed; a disapproving expression on his face. He had felt it only right to tell him and Becky about the trouble the spinster had been brewing, and together they had concocted this scheme to see if they could get her to understand just how serious such unfounded accusations could be. Fortunately, it seemed, for once the settlers hadn't tried to string his friend up. He'd have to ask Mingo later how he convinced them he was telling the truth.
As the woman began to babble, he held out his hands. "Now hold on, just what do you seem to think is goin' on here, Reverend?"
"Well, Mr. Boone. We find you and an unmarried woman, alone in the wilderness, in a compromising position," he glanced back at the Indian, "when we know your wife has just been rescued...."
Dan ducked his head and glanced at the shaken woman. "Well, when you put it that way. I suppose it does look kinda suspicious...."
Mingo moved through the crowd. He came to stand beside his friend. "I can assure you there is nothing to this." He caught the woman's eye. "Daniel told me he was going to get Miss Thompkins so she could speak with Rebecca. You already know she is at the Calloway's. I am sure something happened to startle one or the other of them - something like a snake causing a woman to fall over a ledge or the threat of attack. Things are not always what they seem." He held her gaze; his own uncompromising. "We wouldn't want a woman's reputation ruined due to idle gossip and whispers.... Now would we, Miss Thompkins?"
The older woman had grown very pale. "No."
"I believe," Mingo continued as he moved to tower over her and touched his finger to the muddied black leather book she held, "that the Bible says in Psalms fifty-two that 'the tongue deviseth mischiefs, like a sharp razor, working deceitfully." He paused to draw a breath, lifting a dark eyebrow. "And there is another one - among many - Proverbs Eighteen: twenty-one. 'Death and life are in the power of the tongue, and they that love it shall eat the fruit thereof.' "
The woman looked up at him, amazed. "You know the Bible?"
"It is a very old acquaintance of mine, Miss Thompkins. As is its author."
"Well, it took a bit of convincing, Daniel, but once I was able to persuade them of the veracity of my tale and led them to the Calloway's cabin where they were able to speak to Rebecca, they put the rope away." Mingo's grin was only half-humorous.
"Imagine. That woman thinking you and I...." Becky's voice fell off as her husband shot her an amused look. They were back in their own home, but had left the children at the neighbors' for the rest of the day. Israel actually had not wanted to leave the Garver's. Their youngest daughter had taken his fancy. His father had laughed when he told her, saying they would have to drag the boy away. "Daniel Boone, what are you thinking?"
"Well, I was just thinkin', Becky, that if you was to run away with anyone - I'm glad you had the good sense to choose Mingo. Least wise I know he could take care of you." He paused. "Since you can't seem to take care of yourself."
"Ohhhh," she threw her knitting at him. "You! You...." Her blue eyes flashed and she turned to Mingo exasperated. "Do you see what I mean?"
The tall native simply smiled and began to excuse himself.
"See what you mean?" Dan looked from one to the other. "You been talkin' about me? The two of you?" He crossed his arms. "Now I ain't exactly sure as that's fair."
"Well, Daniel. You did get to have that delightful stroll with Miss Thompkins. And though I am certain it cannot compare to a night in the woods with your lovely wife.... Still, I am certain the conversation was most stimulating. Rebecca and I...." He stopped as he met her eyes and for a moment fell silent.
Dan looked from one of them to the other.
Mingo cleared his throat. "Rebecca and I were miserable and wet the entire night, and she did nothing but talk about how much she longed to be home." He crossed to the redhead and leaned down to plant a brotherly kiss on her hair. Then he looked at her husband. "Her heart is here, Daniel, in this house, in this place - with you. Never doubt that."
The big man stood and came to their side. He placed one hand on Mingo's shoulder and the other on his wife's. "Thanks for takin' care of her."
The Cherokee nodded. With one last glance at Rebecca, he headed out the door.
Dan watched him go and then closed it behind him. He turned and leaned on it, and crossing his arms, looked at his wife.
"What?" Her blue eyes narrowed. "Daniel Boone, what are you thinking?"
He came and knelt beside her, taking her hand in his. He gave her a long passionate kiss and then whispered....
"That next to you, trust is the most beautiful thing in the world."