![]() ...all MSR all the time.. |
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Old Growth Forest Chapter 9 (Revised) Neither of us moved. My heart was pounding wildly in my chest as my eyes strained to see his face. "I didn't mean to scare you." His voice was quiet. "Who--who are you?" I stammered. "My name is Jack." He took a small step toward me. The way he was treating me seemed familiar; similar to my hostage negotiation training. "What are you doing here?" I tried to keep my voice steady. "I'm not allowed inside," he explained. "Yes, we *are* full, but I didn't know Eben was letting people sleep out here." As I was speaking, I heard the door of the boarding house open and then close again. Both Jack and I turned our heads toward the open barn door. "So I told him he could just do that." Eben's voice held some mirth. "And you walked away?" Mulder sounded surprised. "The way I see it, you got to strike while the iron's hot. If a man waits too long, everybody and his brother will..." Eben stopped speaking when he stepped into the barn. His lantern was bright enough to cast some light into the aisle. Jack was no longer in the shadows. I was astounded to see the familiar high cheekbones and sparkling dark eyes of the people we'd first encountered here. His clothes were similar to what Eben and Mulder were wearing. Now I could see he had moccasins on his feet and his long black hair had been pulled back into a ponytail. "Jack!" Eben sounded pleased to see him. "I been expecting you, but you're a bit early aren't you? Payday ain't for another couple of days yet." Mulder and I had learned the men were paid monthly. Rosaline insisted they pay for each month's room and board in advance. If she didn't, some of them wouldn't have enough money left to meet their obligations at the end of the month. "Drinking and gambling when they have mouths to feed at home." I remembered her shaking her head in disgust when she explained the arrangement to me. "I was hoping to buy some supplies too. I heard there's a merchant going to be opening soon." Jack's voice drew me back into the conversation. "Very soon, if he agrees to my price," Eben chuckled. "Mulder and I might have to build around him, but I think he'd do best to get his business going. I heard there's more than one on his way out here to try his hand at a general store." "Excuse me," I interrupted, "but I should get these eggs inside. Rosaline will be wondering what's keeping me." "Forgive my manners, Mrs. Mulder," Eben apologized, "this here's Jack. He always shows up around payday and fleeces the boys." "Nobody makes them gamble, Mr. Peck," Jack defended himself, "and you know I don't cheat. If they'd learn not to mix liquor with their cards, maybe they'd do better." "Nice to meet you, Jack," I nodded and began to head back to the house. "The pleasure's all mine, Mrs. Mulder." He smiled at me. "Do me a favor and tell Rosaline that Jack's here," Eben requested as I walked past. "I will," I agreed. Before I'd made it inside again I heard them continue their conversation. I couldn't make out what they were saying, but from the way they were laughing, it was obviously very funny. As soon as I set foot in the kitchen Rosaline noticed something was wrong, "What's the matter, Dana? You're trembling." I told her how Jack had startled me in the barn. What I didn't understand was why I was still shaking. In all my years working on the x-files, I'd been in far riskier situations that hadn't affected me this much. While we were cooking breakfast, Rosaline told me she would set aside some food for Jack and we could take it to him in the barn. "Why can't he eat in here?" I knew the answer, but I couldn't leave it alone. Rosaline sighed, "Dana, we've been through this before. You know the men would object." "But why can't he eat in the kitchen with us?" I tried to sound innocent as I placed some toast into the warming oven. Rosaline started to say something, but changed her mind. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her eyes flick over at me. She pursed her lips as she picked up her tray of condiments. I didn't say anything else--it was her decision to make. It wasn't until Mulder was serving the porridge that she finally answered me. "I suppose he can eat with us, but he'll have to pay more." "Of course," I tried to keep my face solemn; I didn't want it to look like I was gloating. Breakfast turned out to be very entertaining. Jack was quite a character and full of stories. As we ate, he regaled us with a story of how'd he'd spent an entire night being chased through the woods by a wolf when he was 15. "I'd wandered away from the camp, following the call of a hoot owl when I heard a wolf howl behind me. I took off running, but couldn't get away. I could hear the wolf crashing through the undergrowth right behind me. I thought about climbing a tree, but I knew the wolf would catch me if I slowed down at all. Finally, when I could run no more, I collapsed into a heap, waiting for the wolf to bite. When nothing happened, I lifted my head to see what was going on. Much to my surprise, I found my father standing over me, shaking his head. He said to me: 'Son, if you are going to be in the forest after dark, you must be prepared to deal with what's out there. You must also remember that you will never win any battles unless you know your enemy; learn to face your foes.' "From then on I was never without my knife. Now I always face my enemies head-on." While the men were having a second cup of coffee, Eben asked Jack if he'd like to help with the store building. Saying he'd never turn down a paying job, Jack accepted readily. Later that morning as I was churning the butter and Rosaline was heating up the wash water, she turned to me with a slight smile on her face. "I guess Jack's not too bad." "He's a good story-teller," I nodded, figuring an I-told-you-so wouldn't be the best route. "He certainly is," she laughed, "I was on the edge of my seat." The rest of the day sped by. When Mulder and I retired to our room, I was ready to curl up in his arms and go to sleep even though it was fairly early. He, however, was almost bursting to tell me something. "Jack knows us." Mulder was on the bed wearing nothing but a crooked little grin. "What?" I was still struggling out of my mounds of underwear. "He knew your first name was Dana," he was watching me undress, lying on his side, propped up on his elbow. "Eben must have told him," I pulled my shift over my head. "Nope, and he pronounced your name Day-na," Mulder grinned. "He did?" My eyes widened as I undid my corset. "How did he know?" Finally naked, I crawled into bed with him. Even though I was tired my body responded immediately when his arms slipped around me. "He just came from the village," Mulder whispered before he pressed his lips against mine. "No," I gasped through our kiss. "Mmm hmm," he chuckled. "And they mentioned us?" I placed soft kisses along his jaw. "And Jack wasn't sure if the stories were true until he saw you. I was surprised when he wanted to know my first name," he continued in between sucking lightly on my neck. "How is everyone? Did he say?" I'd forgotten my plan to go right to sleep. My hands were skimming over his back toward his ass. The work Mulder was doing seemed to be having a beneficial effect on his already lean frame; his muscles were becoming even more defined. "That feels good," he breathed as I let my hand wander over his thigh. "Everyone is fine, and I think I've solved the Wanik mystery." His hand had found its way to my breast. My hips jerked forward when he tugged on my nipple. "Really! Jack and Wanik?" My hand left his thigh and closed around his erection. He drew a long slow breath as I began to stroke him gently. "God, Scully." His voice had grown hoarse. "Jack says Wanik won't agree to marry him unless he moves to the village permanently." Abandoning my breast, Mulder's hand drifted down over my belly. Wantonly, I adjusted my legs to give him free access. My hips jumped again at his touch. "Why doesn't he? Doesn't he love her?" I wondered breathily as my thumb grazed over the head of his cock. I discovered a bead of his natural lubricant--it served to make him even silkier. "From the far away look in his eyes when he talked about her, I'm sure he loves her, Scully," his words were punctuated by sharp intakes of breath as I continued to caress him. "Then why doesn't he--" I stopped in mid-question when Mulder eased two fingers into me and gasped when his thumb brushed against my clit. "He makes his living by trading between the Indians and white people," Mulder's breathing was so labored he could barely get more than two words out at a time, "he'd have to give that up." His fingers were on the verge of sending me over the edge. When he withdrew his hand, I whimpered in protest. "I want to be inside of you when you come--it feels so incredible," he explained as he gently rolled me to my back. "Then you'd better hurry," I warned him breathlessly. His mouth covered mine and my hands went to his hair in a vain attempt to pull him closer. When I felt his cock begin to slide into me, I moaned into his mouth. Making a growling noise at the back of his throat, he plunged his tongue deeper into my mouth. Once he was completely inside of me, he no longer took things slowly. Our foreplay had brought us so close, we shared shuddering orgasms after only a few of his powerful thrusts. The narcotic effect of my climax, in combination with the fact that I was already very tired, made me forget the conversation we'd been having. Instead, I drifted blissfully to sleep in Mulder's arms. Over the course of the following week Mulder learned more and more about Jack and his connection to the Fox Indians, as well as the answers to some questions that had been plaguing us. Every night, as we lay in each other's arms, Mulder would tell me what he'd learned that day. Jack was a Sauk Indian. His people now lived in Indian Territory, which I thought was modern-day Kansas. He'd come back to Wisconsin Territory because of all of the stories his parents had told him about how beautiful it was. He'd heard rumors from other bands that there was a group of renegade Fox Indians living north of what had become Madison. Long before the Fox Indians were evicted from their land in Iowa, this band left in the dead of night and, travelling only in the dark, made their way back to Wisconsin Territory. The Indian agents never noticed the decline in numbers, or if they did it was never made public. It was Namid's grandfather that led the group back to Wisconsin and they had lived here undetected for three generations. The construction of Madison, however, was closer to their village than they were comfortable with. So they were planning to move northwest in the spring to escape discovery. Most of the European accoutrements we'd seen at the village were a result of their dealings with Jack. He would trade their furs for things like cookware, utensils, flour and beads. This arrangement helped the Fox Indians remain hidden. They weren't the only band who traded through him. Apparently most bands found it easier to deal with him than trying to communicate in a language few could even speak. With Jack's help, Mulder and Eben finished the store building quickly. Mr. Whitaker, the merchant who had been interested in it, agreed to Eben's price. Then Jack and Mulder made some extra money by helping Mr. Whitaker move in his stock. Jack helped all day, and Mulder helped whenever he had time away from his chores. It took two days to get it all unpacked. One of the cartons hadn't survived the journey in the wagon, and some of its contents had become damaged and weren't fit for sale, so Mr. Whitaker had given them to Mulder. It turned out to be two fancy boxes of perfumed soap. He gave them both to me, but I decided to share them with Rosaline. After supper the very night that Mulder presented me with the soap, I decided to have a bath. Rosaline was bemused by the fact that Mulder and I bathed every other day. She and Eben only bathed on Saturday nights, but she'd said since she didn't have to carry the bath water around, it made no difference to her. I didn't tell her that I would have preferred to bathe every day. It was a tremendous amount of work to heat up all of that water, lug it upstairs, and then carry the tub back downstairs again to dump out the water. So Mulder and I had decided every other day would have to do. The following morning was Saturday and I felt miserable. I didn't know if I was going to be able to face the barn. "Aren't you feeling well, Dana?" Rosaline was concerned as soon as she saw me. "My stomach is just a little upset. I'm sure it's nothing," I assured her. "I'll make you a piece of toast--you sit," she removed one of the stove lids. "I'll be fine," I waved her off. "Sit," she repeated in a firm voice. Meekly, I sat down and waited for her to make the toast. The last thing I wanted with the way my stomach was feeling, was food. But I didn't think Rosaline would give me a choice. I was glad I hadn't voiced my doubts, because the dry toast did make me feel better and I wasn't in the mood for crow. My stomach was fine for the rest of the day, so I assumed I'd just been over-hungry. Sunday morning, however, I was feeling just as ill. After I ate another piece of dry toast, I was fine again. When I returned from collecting the eggs and we were making breakfast, Rosaline turned to me with a knowing smile on her face, "How far gone are you?" "I beg your pardon," I could feel my brow furrowing. "How far along are you?" She rephrased her question. When I realized what she was asking, I almost told her it wasn't possible until I remembered that I still hadn't started my period. I was two and half weeks late. My hand flew to my mouth. "I couldn't be," my voice was shaking. "Did you think you were barren?" Her voice was gentle. She would have assumed that Mulder and I had been married for years and I let her think that. I could only nod; I was afraid I would burst into tears if I spoke. "God has decided to bless you," she smiled. I nodded again, smiling this time; my eyes brimming with tears. "Does your husband suspect?" She put a hand on my shoulder. I shook my head. "Will he be happy about it?" "Oh, yes," I assured her quickly, my voice clouded with emotion, "Happier than you can possibly imagine." When Mulder and Eben came back from the barn, Rosaline dragged her bewildered husband into the dining hall, claiming she needed his help. Mulder watched them go with a puzzled look on his face. "What was that all about?" "She wanted to give us a minute," I explained. He raised his eyebrows and waited for me to continue. "Well, I still don't quite believe it myself, but with all of the symptoms I've been having..." I couldn't actually say the words. I watched as Mulder's expression changed from confusion to one of understanding. "You're pregnant!" His smile lit up his face. "I'm not positive--my period is late and my stomach has been upset, but it could be something else, Mulder. We shouldn't get our hopes up. I don't see how it could possibly be true, but..." As I was speaking, Mulder closed the distance between us, gathered me into his arms and kissed me softly. "I guess we'll know for sure in a couple of months. As for how, I can think of some reasons why you might be suddenly fertile, Scully," he whispered. "Aside from Omiga's potion?" I grinned. "Yeah, aside from that," his voice was gentle, but serious. The joy drained out of me when I saw the look in his eyes. "I know you haven't thought about this, but when you had that chip put back into your neck, did it occur to you that it might heal more than your cancer?" The idea sent a chill through me. He was right; it hadn't occurred to me and it was certainly a possibility, although I'd never been sure if it was the chip that cured my cancer. I also wasn't sure it hadn't, hence the reason it was still in my neck. "There's another possibility I can think of." His voice had grown cold, making me fear what he was about to say. "What is it, Mulder? It's something you don't like the thought of obviously." "Your missing time--when you went with Spender." His words hit me like a punch in the stomach. The thought of that man doing anything to me while I was unconscious made me nauseous. Then I recalled the strange conversation we'd had while we were driving. "He knew I was in love with you," I'd never mentioned that aspect of the conversation to Mulder. "He said that?" Mulder's face was a mixture of surprise and confusion. "Why would he care about that?" "Why would he care about my fertility?" I countered. "I don't want to think about that," his voice was hard. "I can't begin to fathom that man's motives," Mulder hugged me even harder, "but his motives are hardly relevant anymore." The days passed into weeks; August had faded into September, and fall would officially arrive in a week. The days were still quite warm, although it did cool down at night. More and more people streamed into Madison. Jack stayed on to help Mulder and Eben expand the boarding house. They couldn't keep up with the demand, even though the Madison Hotel was now open too. A young Polish couple named Harkleroad had moved into one of the new single rooms. The woman, Anna, began to work with Rosaline and me while her husband was busy establishing his butcher shop. Even with Anna's help we were having a hard time keeping up with all of the work. Over time it had become very apparent that I was indeed pregnant. To Mulder's delight my breasts had gotten bigger. They were a little tender, but when he gently squeezed and caressed them, the tenderness would disappear. My morning queasiness continued, but a piece of dry toast right away seemed to keep it at bay. Any time that I had to think was spent on what life was going to be like for our little family. I'd been very happy living with Namid's tribe. Here, we were so busy, I had little time to think about whether I was happy or not. It wasn't that life was easy in the village, but it was certainly easier. I definitely felt a stronger connection to those people than I felt here. I couldn't help remembering Hillary Clinton's book called 'It Takes a Village to Raise a Child'. When I first heard that, I'd thought it was sort of naive. After seeing the way everyone helped with the children, I couldn't help thinking Namid's village would be a better environment for Mulder and me to raise our child. Mulder was shocked, to say the least, when I finally told him what I was thinking. "You want to go back?" He repeated my words. "I do. I was happier there, weren't you?" "Yes, but what about the baby?" "What about it? There are far more experienced midwives there, and I do know I thing or two myself. Shall I mention Omiga?" I'd anticipated his concerns, so I was prepared. "Okay, I'll give you that, but I don't like the idea of having you live in a wigwam all winter when you're pregnant," he voiced his concerns. "The women in the village seem to manage just fine and..." I held up my hand to stop him from interrupting. "If you're that worried, couldn't you and Jack build a small log house for us? You know how now, right?" "How long have you been thinking about this?" "A while," I shrugged. "So it seems," he chuckled. "What about Rosaline and Eben?" "I've thought about that too. I'm sure they won't understand, but we wouldn't be leaving them short. Eben is finished the building he wanted to do this year, and Rosaline will have Anna's help." "There *are* new people showing up every day, so there will be no shortage of people looking for work. I heard that there are almost 600 people living here now." "So we can go?" I tried to reign in my glee. "I'll talk to Jack. If he agrees to come with us to help build a house, we can go. Okay?" he consented. "Okay," I nodded. Mulder later told me Jack had agreed immediately. He'd been planning to leave soon to take winter supplies to the village anyway. "Jack also said I would need a gun," he informed me somberly. "Why? We managed without one before," I contradicted. "We'll need it to protect ourselves from bears and panthers. We'll --" "Panthers?" I interrupted. "You must be joking." "Nope. Apparently the woods are full of them and if they're hungry, they have no compunctions about going after humans, especially children," his voice was ominous. "Oh," I sat down limply on the bed. I'd been pacing around the room as I waited to hear what Mulder had to say. "And we'll need it for food. We'll need fresh meat in the winter. We can't expect Namid's band to support us and I certainly won't be able to do it with a bow and arrow," he pointed out. "So that's it," I felt tears welling up in my eyes. "We can't afford a gun." "Slow down, Scully," Mulder sat down beside me and pulled me onto his lap. "We can still go. I think we'll be able to afford everything in two weeks." "Two weeks?" I sniffed and blinked rapidly. "I talked to Whitaker and he's agreed to sell me a Hawken's rifle for what it would cost me in St. Louis -- twenty-five dollars," Mulder began to explain. "Twenty-five dollars!" my jaw dropped. "That's almost all of our money." "I know. And it'll cost me another five for the powder, bullet mold and the other accessories I'll need." "Then how can we possibly afford to go?" I slumped against him with a sigh. "It won't be easy," he gave me a squeeze, "but I think we can do it." "How?" I was at a loss. "I've only saved a dollar from doing laundry on the side." "I've never mentioned it to you before, but quite a few of the men have asked me if you'd be willing to do some sewing for them. I told them you didn't have time. We'll need to buy needles and thread anyway, so I thought maybe in the evenings you could do that. It would cost them a dollar to buy a shirt at Whitaker's. If you charge them 25 cents to fix their shirts, we'd be able to make quite a bit of money." "25 cents! That's highway robbery, Mulder. I know for a fact that the fabric is only about 5 cents a yard. It would only cost about 10 cents to make a whole new shirt," I was flabbergasted. "True, but who's going to do the sewing? There aren't enough women here. It's cheaper than buying a new one at Whitaker's. I also told them the shirts would have to be clean before you'd work on them," he winked at me. I couldn't stand to be near most of the men. Even Mulder reeked before he used the washstand in our room. Rosaline and I hated washing the men's shirts, but we knew at least they'd smell better for a day or two. "So I'll be making money there too?" I chuckled. "That's the general idea," he smiled. "That still doesn't seem like it would be enough money for everything we need," I chewed on my lip. "I'm going to be doing some work in the evenings too," Mulder raised his eyebrows at me. "Whitaker wants me to build some inside walls and seal the outside walls and the roof. He won't have time before it snows." "We'll never see each other," I complained. "Maybe we shouldn't do this." "It'll only take two weeks, Scully. My work with Whitaker will buy all of our essentials. I'm working in trade. He's happy with that. The supplies cost him far less then he's selling them for and he can't get anyone else to help him right now. Everyone is too busy working on the capital. With the money you make, we can buys ourselves some frills," he grinned. "I think you're right. We'll work ourselves to death, just to scrape by here. If two weeks of working from dawn to dusk will get us out of here, I say we should do it," his eyes were shining. "I love you," I hugged him tightly. Initially I thought that Mulder was against this idea, but now he seemed to be as excited as I was. With all of the work we were doing, the time practically flew by. Over the next two weeks Mulder bought everything we thought we would need; tools to build the house, blankets, flour, cornmeal, salt pork, sugar, dried fruit, baking soda, cream of tartar, dried beans, candles, and matches. Although it would be heavy to haul, Mulder and I agreed that we would need a washtub. I also reminded him to get some fabric for baby clothes and diapers, knitting needles and wool. We got lye soap for the clothes and plain soap for us--the flowery soap was nice, but it would be impractical in our new home. We still had the cooking pots and utensils from our trip down, but Mulder bought some plates and cutlery, and utensils like scissors and a whisk. I also asked him to buy some paper and pen and ink; I had decided to start keeping a diary. Fortunately for us, Reverend Foster had received another missionary barrel and Mulder and I were able to find winter coats that fit us. If the good Reverend hadn't taken us under his wing, we would have had to spend an enormous amount of money on coats. In the tiny amount of spare time I had left, I worked furiously knitting hats, mittens and scarves. With some of our extra cash, Mulder bought a ladies' magazine from Mr. Whitaker that had patterns in it -- otherwise I would have been lost. On the Saturday before we were about to go, it suddenly occurred to me that we needed to bring gifts back with us. When Mulder came back for lunch I wrote out a list for him. It was a good thing he'd suggested that we do the extra work, because we spent every last penny. Jack stashed everything in the hayloft. If Eben happened to stumble across it, he would say that it was the supplies he was planning to trade with the Indians. Since we'd decided to leave very early on the morning of October 23, Jack and Mulder spent all of their spare time on Sunday out in the woods building two travois--Jack already had one of his own. After supper Jack went back and retrieved them, and after we'd gone upstairs Jack would pack them. We were all going to be carrying backpacks, too. I was going to carry the fabric and the blankets, and some of the food. Mulder and Jack were going to splitthe heavier things between them. It had taken me two days of arguing to talk Mulder into agreeing to let me pull a travois. He'd even been hesitant to let me carry a backpack, but I'd managed to convince him that pregnant did not mean sick and this would probably be easier than the work I'd been doing with Rosaline. Before we went to sleep, I decided to write Rosaline a letter. Strangely enough, I wasn't even sure if she could read, but I couldn't leave without saying anything. I thanked her for everything she'd done for Mulder and me, but told her that we'd decided to return to Chicago. I explained that since we'd managed to conceive a child, I wanted to be able to share it with my family and I hadn't told her because I didn't want her to try to talk me out of it. In the stillness of the very early morning, Jack sneaked up to our room and woke us. He left us to let us dress and we changed back into our deerskin clothes. I made the bed and left the note for Rosaline on the washstand. After creeping down the stairs, we quietly left the boarding house. Jack was waiting for us outside with the packs and travois. We shrugged into the packs quickly and wordlessly. It wasn't until we'd crossed that first bridge that brought us into Madison that we finally spoke. "I see you're wearing the vest Namid gave you," Jack was the first to speak. "He told me about that." "I was very honored," Mulder told him earnestly. "You should be," Jack nodded. "Until now, that vest has only been worn by the chiefs of Namid's tribe. His great-grandfather was the first to wear it." "What do the stars mean?" Mulder inquired. "They represent the starlit journey the Fox Indians took from Iowa back to here. The vest was made when they got back here, to commemorate that journey." Since we were all dragging travois, I didn't have to worry about the pace. We stopped early on the first day because of the time that we'd left, but after that we walked as long as the sun shone. As we got closer to the village, I grew more and more excited. I was more sure than ever I'd made the right decision. I couldn't wait to see Omiga and Wanik, and Namid and Migisi and all of the other friends we'd made. Since the journey to Madison had taken 5 days, we thought it would take six to get back, taking into account Apram's original pace and our heavier load. But by late afternoon on the sixth day, we'd only made it back to the spot where Mulder and I had built the lean-to. I could barely get to sleep that night, as exhausted as I was, knowing that we'd make it to the village the next day. We left as soon as the sun was up, having only some leftover bannock for breakfast. Jack seemed as anxious as Mulder and I were about getting back to the village. I guessed that he was anxious to see Wanik. When we'd left Madison the forest had been alight with fall colors. Now the brilliant reds and oranges were beginning to fade, giving the woods a washed out look. "Do you know the name of this river?" Jack made conversation as we walked. "No," Mulder and I answered together. "It's called the Fox River...even the white men call it that," Jack's voice seemed a little distant. "Even they know who's home it really is." Neither of us said anything. What could we say? Our opinions would change nothing. Our opinions would not change the fact that in less than 50 years Wisconsin would no longer be the frontier. In 50 years people would be leaving Wisconsin to go even further west, forcing the already displaced natives to live in the most inhospitable parts of the country. It wasn't long before I knew we were getting close to the village. The landmarks were so familiar it felt like I was going home. My heart began to swell with delight. I could barely contain my excitement. When we got to the last corner, I was surprised that I couldn't smell any smoke or hear any voices. I knew something was wrong when Jack dropped his travois with a thud. He turned back to look at Mulder, his eyes wide and still. I was still a few feet behind them and I couldn't see past them. "What's wrong?" I set my travois down and ran to Mulder's side. When I looked into the clearing, I gasped and tears began to fill my eyes immediately. It was completely empty. All that remained was the worn ground and the blackened circles from the fires.
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