Water Woman said. âBut Louisa told me that Zach cannot keep his hands off her. They lay together almost every night.â
âThe boy is a satyr!â Shakespeare declared. âAnd what is she doing telling you that? Donât you females keep secrets?â
âNo.â
About to take a bite of the string beans, Shakespeare paused. âWait. You havenât told anyone about our bed time, have you?â
âWhat little there is to tell.â
Shakespeare burst into laughter. He laughed so hard he nearly stabbed himself with the fork. When at last he could catch his breath, he beamed at her and said, âThat was your finest ever.â
âThank you.â
âBut letâs get this settled once and for all. If I were thirty you would not object to me going after this thing. Heck, if I were fifty you wouldnât squawk.â
âHave you looked in a mirror lately? You are neither thirty nor fifty. Nor even sixty.â
âWhite hairs do not a simpleton make, wench. I will thank you to treat me with a little more respect.â
Blue Water Woman sighed. Setting down her cup, she rose and came around the table. âI only brought this up because I care.â Bending, she embraced him, resting her cheek on his shoulder. âWere I to lose you, my life would be empty.â
Shakespeare fidgeted in his chair. âHow do you expect me to stay angry with you?â
Blue Water Woman kissed him on the cheek. âI donât.â
âDamn your feminine wiles.â
âI love you, too.â
They kissed again, longer and passionately. When Blue Water Woman pulled away, Shakespeare pushed back his chair and stood.
âI need some air.â
âI am sorry I care so much, Carcajou.â
âIt is my soul that calls upon my name,â Shakespeare softly quoted. âHow silver-sweet sound loversâ tongues by night, like softest music to attending ears.â He smiled and went out, remembering to take his rifle from beside the door. The cool evening air was a welcome relief from the flush of ardor. Overhead, stars had blossomed.
Shakespeare walked to the lake and gazed out over the dark waters. He thought of the thing in the depths, and more of the lines he had read countless times tripped from his troubled lips. âThere is special providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, âtis not to come. If it be not to come, it will be now. If it be not now, yet it will come. The readiness is all.âHe stopped, and scowled. âThereâs the rub. I am not ready. I would savor her until the end of time if I could.â
The crunch of a step brought Shakespeare around with his Hawken rising. The tall, broad-shouldered figure strolling toward him showed white teeth in a warm smile.
âI thought I saw you out here,â Nate King said.
âHoratio!â Shakespeare delightedly exclaimed, using his pet name for the man he loved as a son. He clapped Nate on the arm. âYou are a balm to these tired eyes.â
âI just got back from Bentâs Fort,â Nate related. âI brought the sugar and flour the women wanted and enough powder to last us all for the next year.â
âYou just got back, you say?â Shakespeare asked. It was a ten-day ride to the trading post and another ten days to return. âHow is it you are over here talking to me instead of treating that adorable wife of yours to your company?â
âWinona just told me that you plan to try and catch the creature in the lake.â
âOh, hell,â Shakespeare said.
âWhat is the matter?â
âI am not a dunce. My wife has been talking to your wife and now she sends you to do their handiwork.â Shakespeare kicked a stone, and it rolled into the water. âFemales! They cut off our heads with a gilded axe and smile as they deliver the killing stroke.â
âWas that the Bard?â
âSomewhat,â Shakespeare