The Tarnished Necklace. Trish Inc. DuffinЧитать онлайн книгу.
through his hair. “Most of Sundance doesn’t like me because of my having an Indian for a wife. Now I know they will dislike me even more for courting one very popular young lady. Also I can see the tongues wagging if I court you so soon after losing Chenoa.”
Maria looked into his face and saw he was serious.
“Or, we can simply continue going for walks, without the formality,” Peter ventured after a long pause before again reaching for her hand. Under Maria’s fingertips she could feel his cooler hand encompassing hers.
“Actually, I like your idea Peter,” she said, gazing up at him, a warm open look on her face.
They both stood there, fingers entwined for a few seconds, unsure what to do next.
Peter smiled and nodded. “I like that idea as well.” The meadow’s sounds filled in the silence. The zithering of insects, trilling of birds and the splash of a fish in the lake were the only sounds to be heard. “I guess we should get you back home,” he murmured, unwilling to break the moment but realising they should go home.
Maria sighed. She could hear the reluctance in his voice and felt the same way. He was correct though, it wouldn’t do to be away for so long. Her parents had been very generous giving her this time alone, but it wouldn’t be right to take advantage of their generosity.
He pulled her towards him. She became encircled in his arms, her face pressed against his chest and a soft kiss was planted on her forehead. He then released her to pull on his wet footwear while she picked up the picnic basket and blankets.
The two of them started back across the meadow, Maria’s skirt brushed the wild flowers and sent up a small flurry of minute insects as she moved. Peter shortened his stride to keep step with her. His left hand held hers and he glanced down to her. She was looking over to a tall elm to her left, giving him the opportunity to gaze at her face, hair, soft neck and slim body. He briefly stooped down and picked a wild flower. She turned and he deftly slid the single bloom into her hair. She looked up at him, this time not being so embarrassed. Her eyes moved from his damp wavy hair, over his face and down to his tanned neck. The damp shirt stuck to his shoulders and chest, outlining his solid build. She put her fingers on his chest and stood on her tiptoes to claim a sweet kiss before pulling away. The rest of the walk home was in silence. Each was taken with what had happened and didn’t want to detract the moment with words. The feeling of their hands entwined bombarded their senses. They detoured to his house where he put the blankets, fish and fishing gear in the porch before continuing on towards her house. Maria spoke first, “I don’t want to say goodbye.”
He could see the look on her face, it mirrored his own. He cupped her face in his hand, stroking her jaw with his thumb. “Don’t worry,” he whispered, “I’ll see you soon.” At that he gently squeezed her fingers before she turned towards her home. Peter stood there, watching her until she reached the bend in the road. He gave her a wave and she continued out of sight.
As Maria neared home she knew that her face was glowing with joy. The lingering touch of his lips still lay on hers. She could still feel the touch of his hand on hers. Not wanting to give anything away she busied herself with a mundane task, but her mind continued to relive what had just happened.
Chapter 12 Whisky And Jealousy.
Jasper was a little suspicious that Maria wouldn’t be making a sick call. He had persuaded his friends to join him as he sat near her home to see if she was indeed visiting her friend. Jasper had the use of his father’s wagon and the men had spent the afternoon lolling in it. They were hidden behind a stand of trees and discussed his situation with a few bottles of whisky to keep them company. His ire was initially raised when he saw Maria and Peter head over to his home and then further into his property. The four men had then waited. After an age there was a frantic nudging of ribs and some drunken shushing as they watched the couple return to the turnoff. The way those two moved together spoke volumes. They were holding hands and the way her body gently touched his, the way she craned her neck back to look up at him and their soft voices made it abundantly clear that this imposter was reneging on his promise to step back. At one stage Jasper expected them to kiss and he choked back his rage. Maria took far too long to say goodbye and those lingering looks were almost impossible to watch. Finally she dragged herself away.
Jasper waited until she was safely out of sight and shook off the restraining arms. “That’s it, let’s go,” he snarled. The four young men lurched forward, eager for a fight. Alcohol was surging through them and restraint was obliterated. They didn’t feel the same passion as Jasper but this was going to provide a bit of excitement on an otherwise dull day.
Peter was close to his house when he heard their approach. He turned around to face the young men and didn’t flinch as they got closer. Two of them were still clutching the whisky bottles and the smell of alcohol wafted towards him on the breeze. Jasper walked up to him, voice tight with anger and fumes hitting Peter in the face. “I thought we had an agreement in regards to Miss Scott,” he snarled and, before Peter had time to react, Jasper pulled back his arm and delivered a painful blow to Peter’s stomach. He doubled over and grabbed Jasper’s hand before he had time to pull it back. He couldn’t summon any words to his lips as the wind had been knocked out of him. Instead he simply head butted Jasper, neatly breaking his nose. Jasper’s nose suddenly flooded with blood and his three friends took that as the call to battle.
Peter’s shoulder took the second hit and a punch in the kidneys made him throw Jasper around into his adversary, sending both of them tumbling sideways.
Peter twirled and ducked as another fist came his way and he managed to get another punch in that was going to cause a superbly bruised stomach.
He spun around to find the fourth assailant but it was too late. Something solid crashed against his head and he fell to the ground only to have a fine layer of dust kicked in his eyes. His hair was grabbed by someone and three punishing blows were landed in his face.
Peter dove forward, sending his adversary backwards and down a small bank. Both men rolled, quickly followed by the other three men. Two of them grabbed Peter’s arms and yanked him painfully upright, kicking him in the back of the knees to force him into a kneeling position.
He rolled violently sideways attempting to unlock their hold, his eyes still blinded by the dust. One man screamed in pain as Peter’s body slammed into his legs and sent him sprawling over a large stone, cleanly snapping the shin in two. His face skidded along the ground and then a boot kicked him in the back. He rolled over trying to regain his feet but was kicked in the ribs. The pain was horrendous and he doubled over gasping in pain.
Kicks and blows rained on him from every angle and he curled up into a foetal position. His brain was beginning to fog over and his last coherent thought was ‘I’m going to die.’
Jasper’s friends pulled him back. Peter’s body lay prone on the ground. Crimson puddles started forming before being soaked into the dust. Damien lay in agony on the ground, sobbing and vomiting in pain with his shattered leg lying at an unusual angle. Jasper had numerous cuts and bruises to his face, his knuckles grazed and his nose swelling and oozing blood. The men looked down at their prey, chests heaving with excitement and from the heat of the fight. They scooped Damien up under his arms and dragged him, screaming, all the way to the wagon they had travelled in. He was unceremoniously pulled on, the men attempting to stifle his screams for fear of being heard and they departed, nearly suffocating him to drown out his howling.
Peter lay there, deeply unconscious.
Maria was in the yard trying to calm down her still flushed face when she heard the screaming coming from behind the small rise and she glanced over. Susan and Andrew had been sitting on the porch, Andrew just beginning to doze off when they too heard the screaming. They both arose, meeting Maria in the yard and quickly making their way along the path. The screaming stopped and then started again. Andrew rushed in and grabbed his rifle. “Joanne, stay inside and look after your sisters,” he commanded before rushing up the road towards his wife and daughter who had bunched up their skirts and were running.
A wagon rattled furiously