Two
Tess stared into the heathen's obsidian eyes, wondering if this was where she would die. After her miraculous escape from the Mohawk, would she now lose her life here in the middle of the wilderness? Would her family ever know what had become of her? Would Abby still stand by the door of their mother's cottage waiting for word from the sister who promised she would send for her?
Tess couldn't get over the intensity of the hooded black eyes that met and held her frightened gaze. He made a sound deep in his throat, a soothing sound, as if she was some frightened animal he was trying to calm.
Despite the weight of his body pressing against hers and the grip he held on her wrists, something told her he wasn't going to hurt her. She didn't know if it was the tone of his voice, or the expression on his face, but she sensed she needn't be afraid.
In a calculated leap of faith, she relaxed beneath him. He immediately let go of her wrists.
She watched him cautiously as he climbed off her and offered one bronze hand to help her to her feet. Ignoring his hand, she jumped up, pushing down the wet skirt of her shift, now clinging to her thigh. She was still panting from the exertion of the swim and the run through the forest. Her breasts heaved beneath the filmy wet cotton of her shift's bodice. "The . . . the shot from the shore. You . . . you shot the one swimming after me, didn't you?"
He nodded. He was staring at her with a strange look on his face. He wasn't smiling, yet he seemed like he was smiling inside. He nodded. "Kohon."
She eyed him, still a little unsure of her own judgment. It immediately struck her that the Indian was a handsome man in an exotic way. He was barely a breath taller than Tess with a finely chiseled frame and a strikingly angular face. His hair was a sheet of ebony, his skin the color of sun-kissed red soil. Dressed scantily in a leather breech-cloth that looked like an apron and a sleeveless vest ornamented with seashells, the hides did little to cover his muscular physique. He had the broadest, most well-defined bare shoulders she'd ever seen on a man.
"Why would you . . . why would you kill one of your own?" she questioned. "They . . . they'll track you down. They'll skin you." She took a deep breath, adding softly, "I saw them do it."
The Indian's eyes narrowed, silently giving witness to his lack of fear. "Mohawk." He spat in the dirt as if the word was distasteful. "They are not one of my own. They are enemy to The People."
The other Indian in the forest then came through the brush. Tess took a step back. Was she really standing here in her wet underclothes talking to a hostile? "Who are The People you speak of?"
He shifted his musket to his other hand and touched his chest with a closed fist. "We are Lenape, my brother and I."
She looked past him to the other red man who stood there, looking at her. There was a resemblance between the men in their aquiline noses and high, broad cheekbones. "Brothers? You two are brothers?"
"I am called Wee-ee-yox-qua. My brother is Takooko."
His voice fascinated her. His English was so husky and foreign, yet comforting. She hadn't heard any English but her own since Jocelyn died. "We-ox what?" Her breath was coming more evenly now. "What does it mean?"
He laughed. "I am called the Raven to those who speak my name."
"Raven," she echoed softly. The name fit. He was dark and mysterious. His hair was as black and shiny as a raven's wing. "I . . . I'm sorry I cut you, Raven." She pointed to the bloody knife wound on his forearm. It looked deep, and might well require stitches to close it. "I . . . You scared me. I thought you were one of them," she said, still not entirely certain he wasn't.
Raven didn't even look at his bloody arm. "I think this man is lucky you did not strike at my heart or I would be dead. You are a brave woman she-whose-name-I-do-not-know." He was smiling at her now, a gentle smile meant to ease her fear.
"Tess," she answered softly. "I'm called Tess."
"Tess . . ." He said her name as no one ever had before. "Tess . . ." he repeated trying out the word on the tip of his tongue. "What does it mean—Tess? "
She smiled. "It doesn't mean a thing. Just a name my mum liked. She—"
The sound of movement in the direction of the river suddenly caught their attention. Tess felt a hasty rise of panic in her chest. "He'll kill me if he catches me," she said as much to herself as the two men. "He killed Jocelyn." Unconsciously she brushed her hand over her head thinking of Jocelyn's blonde scalp that hung from Broken Tooth's belt. "He'll kill me."
Raven reached out and took her trembling hand in his. It was a big hand, warm and secure. "The Mohawk will not take a life. Not today. Come, my brother and I, we disappear into the forest like the wind. We see but cannot be seen."
Tess didn't understand what he meant. Though he did speak English, some of his words were so heavily accented that she had to listen carefully to follow his meaning. Disappear like the wind? Didn't he understand that the Mohawk were coming after her? But when he tugged on her hand, she followed.
Back in the canoe she had prayed to God for a miracle. Was this man her miracle?
Raven and his brother led her deeper into the forest. Tess ran between them, pulling up her tattered, wet shift to run, her corset discarded days ago. This was no time for modesty. Her life was still at stake. The strange thing was that the two men didn't seem to notice that she was practically nude.
Through the forest they ran, the men making no sound as their moccasins touched the scattered leaves and soft soil at their feet. The pungent scent of rotting leaves and damp moss filled her nostrils. The ancient trees above her head formed a canopy, blocking out much of the sunlight as they went deeper into the forest.
Tess heard the Mohawk behind them. They thrashed in the brush, beating the trees violently in search of her. And then she heard the angry guttural tones that warned her of Broken Tooth's nearing presence. But as she and the brothers ran, the voices quieted, becoming more distant.
Tess was soon winded. She was breathing heavily and despite the coolness of the forest on her damp skin, sweat beaded above her upper lip.
The brothers made turns in the woods, left then right, then right again. No words passed between them and yet they seemed to know what the other was thinking. They seemed to Tess more like two wild animals in sync with their surroundings than two men.
Just when Tess feared she could keep up no longer, the brothers rounded a patch of tangled green briars and sank down into a carpet of moss. Raven brought one finger to his lips, signaling for her to keep silent. He rested one hand reassuringly on her arm.
For what seemed an eternity Tess sat there on the moss between the two brothers, hearing nothing, seeing nothing but the flitter of birds and the sway of the tree limbs above them. Then he appeared. Out of the dense foliage came Broken Tooth and one of the other Mohawk from the canoe.
Tess drew in a ragged breath, her veins running icy with fear. If he saw her, he would surely kill her. He would torture as he had tortured Jocelyn and then he would murder her. Tess didn't want to die. She'd fought too hard these last three days to lose her life now. She had to survive for Jocelyn, for Abby . . . for herself.
Raven squeezed her arm gently. Broken Tooth walked past them not an arm's length from Tess's bare, skinned knee. She looked at the faces of the two Lenape brothers. They were unafraid. It was like a game to them. They honestly thought they were invisible!
Mad savages . . . Father in heaven, she thought. I've been rescued by mad savages.
Broken Tooth stopped and slowly scanned the woods around him. Tess could feel her body trembling with fear. Raven's arm settled on her shoulder. She didn't know how it had gotten there; it was just there.
Broken Tooth grunted something in his guttural tongue. He was so close that Tess could see the rotting flesh on the fresh scalps on his belt, and yet he apparently couldn't see her.
Were she and the brothers truly invisible?
After a moment, Broken Tooth turned around, again speaking to the other Mohawk. The two savages walked away, back in the direction of the Susquehanna.
For a long time Tess just sat there in the bed of leaves in the greenbriar thicket, following the men's lead. They remained still and silent until the sound of the Mohawk was long gone.
Tess turned her head to look at Raven. When her gaze met his, he lowered his arm from her shoulder. "Thank you," she whispered. Her gaze wandered to Takooko and back to Raven. "Thank you for helping me. I don't know why you did it, or how, but—"
Raven sliced the air with a quick movement of his hand. "For thanks there is no need." His face hardened. "Mohawk have no right to take women. Not our women, not the women of the white-hairs."
"White-hairs?"
He touched his crown of shining black hair. "White-hairs."
"The wigs." She laughed softly, a little surprised by the sound of her own voice. An hour ago she thought she would never laugh again. "You're talking about the wigs the Englishmen wear." She nodded thoughtfully. "White-hairs."
Takooko rose, slinging his bow over his shoulder. He was not as tall as Raven, but equally handsome. "Enough of your flirting, brother," he said in the Lenape tongue. "The Mohawk have gone, but that doesn't mean they will not be back. We must take ourselves far from this land. Quickly."
Raven rose. "You worry like our old great-grandmother, Takooko. The man-eaters are long gone." He indicated Tess with a glance. "She is tired, and afraid, and hungry. Her feet are bloody from her journey. We should find a safe place to set camp and give her time to rest."
Tess stayed where she was on the ground, watching the two men as they spoke back and forth in their language. Were they arguing?
"Camp!" Takooko scoffed. "It's barely afternoon. Do you forget that we travel home to our people with news from the Clan Gathering?"
"Half a day will make no difference in the decision our village must make. The woman must rest. She's been through a great ordeal. A woman so brave deserves our attention, Takooko."
Takooko looked down at the white-skinned woman. She'd slipped off one of her English moccasins and was rubbing her bloody blistered heel. "And then what, brother? What do we do with her when she's fed and rested?"
Without answering, Raven turned to Tess. "We will rest for the night, but not here," he said in English. "Here we are too close to the great river."
"And the Mohawk," she said shakily.
He shook his head. "No. They are gone, the ones who took you. They will not harm you." He touched his bare chest with his fist. "This man has given his word to you."
Tess sat there on the mossy ground looking up at the Indian. He wanted her to go with them. Running with them away from the Mohawk was one thing. She'd had no time to consider her actions. She'd just run. But going with these Indians now, that was another thing. Could she trust them? Why would she?
"Thank . . . thank you for your help, but you can go now. You don't have to stay. I . . . I'll go on alone from here."
Raven crouched at her feet. "You cannot stay here alone, Tess."
The way he spoke her name made her uncomfortable. His voice sounded so intimate. Like he knew her. "I'll be all right. I got myself this far, didn't I?"
"I will not hurt you. My brother will not hurt you."
"You want me to come with you." She watched the expression on his face. "Where are you going to take me? How do I know you're no different than them?"
"You know we are different because they took you from your home. This man will take you to the place you call home."
Takooko made a noise.
Tess rose up on her knees in front of Raven so that she was eye-level with him. Home? Would he really take her home to her uncle's? "You would do that?" she asked softly, feeling a lump rise in her throat. "You would take me back?"
"You were a brave woman to jump from the canoe and swim. You were a smart woman to see your chance and take it. I will take a brave, smart woman home to her people."
Tess closed her hand over her mouth to stifle a sob of what, she didn't know. Relief? Gratitude? She couldn't believe that this black-haired, red-skinned man would help her. She couldn't believe she was really going to be alright.
Raven reached out and caught a stray lock of her damp red hair and pushed it behind her ear. It was a simple gesture, but it moved Tess deeply. No one had ever been gentle to her, not even her mum, not even when Tess was little. Born the third of a dozen living children, Tess had been dealt a harsh hand from the beginning. For years she had toiled in her mother's tiny cottage caring for little ones, cleaning, and working their meager garden. Then, after her arrival in the Maryland colony she had worked harder than any slave in her uncle's fancy house.
"I . . . I don't know where we are. The Mohawk dragged us around in circles raiding. I don't know how to tell you where I live, not exactly," she said softly.
"We will find your home," he promised. He rose and offered her his hand, palm up. "Come."
She took his hand and heaved herself up off the ground. It wasn't until she sat down that she realized how tired she was or how badly her feet ached. She swayed a little and he steadied her.
"I will carry you."
"No." She pushed his hand away, blinking as she struggled to get her balance. "I'll walk myself."
"You would be light in my arms."
She took one unsteady step and then another, chuckling. "I doubt you lifted a woman with hips as ample as mine."
"Your body is attractive to this man."
She passed him, his compliment making her feel a little uneasy. Need she fear for her virtue among these men, too? She was convinced that the only reason the Mohawk hadn't used her body was that they must have guessed she was still a virgin, and so they had held more sinister plans for her.
Tess fell in behind Takooko, following him closely. Raven walked behind her. The two brothers spoke to each other in their tongue occasionally, but mostly they walked in silence.
As they walked south, Tess concentrated on putting one aching foot in front of the other. Her good kidskin slippers were ruined. It was true they were Jocelyn's hand-me-downs, and a size too small, but they had been the best pair of shoes she'd ever owned. The shoes she had once been so proud of were now ripped, muddied, soggy, and stained with her own blood. The too-tight slippers had rubbed open sores on her heels and on the tops of her feet.
Twice Tess stumbled and both times Raven helped her to her feet. He again offered to carry her, but when she refused a second time, he didn't ask again. He seemed to respect her need to do this on her own.
Tess didn't know how long they walked. She lost all track of time and direction. But the shadows had lengthened and a cool breeze was beginning to filter through the trees when Takooko finally came to a halt beside a slow moving stream.
"Here," Takooko declared in English.
"This man thought you would walk us home tonight," Raven chided.
Despite her exhaustion, Tess smiled. Her Indian had a sense of humor. Her Indian? Since when had Raven become her Indian?
Raven rested his musket against a tree and began to gather wood for a fire. Tess sank down in the leaves, propping her back against a tree trunk. Thank goodness the brothers had stopped. Tess feared she couldn't have gone much further.
With flint and steel taken from a small quilled pouch Raven wore on his hip, he started a fire. He gave her a wooden bowl of fresh cold water from the stream and then offered her a small leather bag.
"Pemmican," he told her. "Eat."
Inside the bag was a wet brown mixture. Tess grimaced.
"Eat," Raven repeated. "It is dried berries and meat."
Tess took a tiny pinch of the foul-looking concoction and hesitantly nibbled at it. The taste was odd, but not bad. She took a bigger pinch. The mixture was pungent and chewy. She was so starved that at this point she guessed she could eat anything. She crammed a handful into her mouth, then another.
Chewing, she looked up to see Raven watching her. He nodded and she turned her attention back to the pemmican. When she had eaten her fill and drank from the bowl again, she sat back against the tree trunk again and stretched out her long legs. With her eyes half-closed, she watched the two brothers across the campfire.
They spoke their own language to each other, obviously used to each other's company. As Tess watched them, listening to their strange sing-song speech, she marveled at how well the two brothers got along. Tess and her siblings had never had such a relationship. Except, of course, for Abby.
Tess smiled at the thought of her younger sister. Abby had the most beautiful straight blonde hair, so unlike Tess's unruly red waves, and her eyes, her eyes were as blue as the ocean Tess had crossed to reach the American colonies, not mud brown like her own. Abby was petite and attractive . . . she was also deaf and called dumb because she didn't speak.
Of course she spoke to Tess. The two of them over the years had developed a language of their own using hand signals. The others had refused to learn them. Even Mum said it was a waste of time. After Father had died in the mill accident, Mum said most things were a waste of time.
Tess's heart wrenched as she recalled the day she'd left the little village of Hopsbirth to sail across the sea to live with Uncle Albert. How Abby had sobbed. . . . She'd tugged at her big sister's skirts signing again and again, Don't leave me, don't leave me.
Tess had carefully pushed her hands away and made a vow to send for Abby as soon as she was able. "I'll marry a rich man," she'd signed as she spoke. "And you'll come across the great ocean to live with me and we'll eat gooseberry pie morning, noon, and night." Abby had always loved gooseberry.
Tears running down her cheeks, Abby had signed, Swear, swear you won't leave me here forever.
Tess had crossed her heart and then with a quick peck on Abby's cheek, she had run to catch the wagon that would take her to the docks.
Tess shivered. The sun had set and now she felt cold. She hugged herself for warmth, brushing her bare arms which now were covered in goose pimples.
Raven appeared at her side, offering her his sleeveless leather vest with the seashell ornaments. Tess shook her head. "No. You'll be cold without it. I'm all right."
"Take it." He draped it over her shoulders. "Get warm and then give it back," he told her.
Tess had intended to immediately lift the vest off her shoulders and give it back, but the weight of the dry leather felt so good that she kept it on. Just a few minutes, she told herself.
Raven nodded, the barest smile on his face. Then he looked down at her feet. Tess hadn't taken off her slippers for fear her feet would swell so much that she wouldn't be able to get them back on in the morning.
He touched one slipper. Tess tried to pull away. "No. I'm all right."
He held her ankle. "You cannot walk with feet that hurt."
"They don't hurt, r-really." She winced as he pulled off the first slipper. "Please . . ." The second slipper scraped on the raw flesh of the top of her foot and she bit down on her lower lip to keep from crying out loud.
He brushed his palm across the sole of her foot. It was a strange feeling, a man's hand touching her like that. "Please," she said again, not really knowing what she meant.
"Lay back," he said. "I carry medicine in my bag that will take away the fever of pain."
With the slippers removed and the numbness from the too-tight slippers wearing off, her feet were beginning to throb. "All right," she sighed, too tired to fight him. "A little salve would help."
He got up and walked away, going to his leather bag on the far side of the fire. His brother eyed him. Raven pulled a wooden bowl from the fringed bag and a smaller bag, but instead of coming back to her, he disappeared into the darkness. He reappeared a minute later with water sloshing from the bowl.
Tess stiffened, sitting more upright. "I . . . I can do that," she said as he knelt at her feet, embarrassed. "Really. It's all right."
He pushed her hand aside. "Lay back, this man says, and let the powers heal you, Tess."
Tess felt awkward. The thought of letting a stranger, a red man, touch her so intimately was absurd, and yet when she felt the first splash of cool water and warmth of his hand, she was powerless. She rested her head back on the tree trunk, trying not to sigh loud enough for him to hear her.
Tess lay back and let him bathe her swollen, burning feet. The cool water seemed to take away the fire of the blisters and the steady warmth of his hands as they massaged the soles of her feet relaxed her muscles. Before Tess knew what had happened, she was drifting off to sleep.
Raven massaged her calves, rubbing gently to ease her muscles. He stroked her instep and heel, relieving the tension. He sprinkled herbs from his great-grandmother's medicine bag on her open sores and then wrapped her feet in two strips of soft leather he carried for bandages.
His work complete, Raven hated to let go of her. Of course he was only practicing the healing as any Lenape would have done. It was only her feet, but he had to admit he had enjoyed the physical contact. He had enjoyed the pleasure he had seen on her face.
He yearned to touch her elsewhere.
Raven stood suddenly and walked back across the campfire, leaving the white-skinned woman to sleep.
"Done with your lovemaking, brother?" Takooko asked with a chuckle. He passed his pipe to Raven.
Raven squatted at his brother's side and took a pull. He inhaled the sweet smoke of the Maryland tobacco mixed with herbs, letting it fill his lungs and make him dizzy. "Jackass," Raven answered in English.
Takooko frowned. "If you're so infatuated with her, why not take her as your wife? Catch two fish with one net. Our mother says it's time you marry and give her grandchildren. We haven't the time to take the white woman to her home. You hear her. She doesn't even know where home is."
"Go to sleep," Raven answered, laying down on his sleeping mat. "Tomorrow, the day will be long." Raven rolled onto his side, his back to his brother, giving him no chance to respond.
Raven stared into the fire watching the orange and red flames dance and lick at the wood. What was it about this white-skinned woman with hair of fire that disturbed him so? Why had she crossed his path now? Why at this place, at this moment in time? His great-grandmother always said nothing happened by accident. Nothing. All was in the great Manito, the Creator's plan, a plan set in the stars before the world began.
Raven sighed, closing his eyes. Grandmother had been old and superstitious. He would take the white woman to her home or to the town of white-hairs and then he would forget her. His fate was already set, a fate with no room for a woman. He soon would be War Chief to his people, and a man with no place in his life for a woman like his Tess.
His Tess. . . . When had she become his Tess?