Huckleberry Lake

by Catherine Anderson

  He jerked the tree limb back level with his shoulder as if it were a baseball bat and ran toward them, yelling until the muscles along each side of his throat burned. The wolves scattered. Wyatt took a wild swing and hit one of them. Domino charged in like a black-and-white ghost in the darkness and tangled briefly with a wild dog four times his size. It was the wolf that broke away and ran with its tail tucked between its legs. Not Dom. And Wyatt had never felt such a surge of pride in his life.

  “Good boy!” he cried, running over to the dog with tears in his eyes. He gathered Domino into his arms for a quick hug. “You are awesome!”

  Then Wyatt remembered Erin and doubled back to eat up the distance between them with strides so long that the muscles of his groin panged. Erin left the rifle lying on the ground and rose to her knees. Wyatt did a home base slide on his own knees as he braked. When their bodies collided, he grabbed her in his arms, locked his muscles tight, and cried, “Are you all right? Did they hurt you? Answer me, damn it!”

  Only she couldn’t. He felt the vibration of her voice. It moved through his tightly clenched arms and into his chest. But he couldn’t hear a word she said. He set her slightly away from him. In the faint moonlight, he could see her precious face, but there wasn’t enough illumination for him to read her lips. He began to run his hands over her, feeling for any sign of dampness to indicate she was bleeding. And suddenly she grabbed his wrists, shoved his arms back, and then drew his hands to her chest. He felt her fingers moving. And then she thumped herself between her breasts. He realized she was telling him something in ASL. “I’m okay.”

  Wyatt felt as if all his bones dissolved. He grabbed her again, so relieved that tears came to his eyes.

  She pulled away and scrambled to her feet. He followed her to the horses. She moved in on Barbwire. He saw her arm come up and knew that she’d put her hand on the rump of the mule to let him know she was there. For the second time in just as many minutes, Wyatt felt fiercely proud. While he’d been watching her work with Firecracker day after day, she’d become one hell of a horsewoman. He moved forward.

  “Erin, did they get to him?” he asked. “Answer me.”

  She turned and began signing with her hands against his chest. Wyatt couldn’t quite get what she was saying. In ASL, the signs weren’t confined to only hand and finger movement; they included gestures, and it was next to impossible for him to catch everything in the darkness. In that moment, he felt as impotent as an old man and every bit as useless. Maybe he was more useless. Even old men weren’t stone deaf. They could at least hear part of what was said to them.

  Finally Wyatt was able to interpret Erin’s hand motions enough to know that one wolf had gotten to Barbwire and they needed to check him for injuries.

  “We need a light,” he said, staring down at Erin’s face, which shone in the darkness like a gray oval. “Let’s go get a lantern. We can’t do anything for him without being able to see.”

  He grabbed her arm and pulled her along beside him as they ran toward their temporary tent. When they got there, Wyatt dove through the loose flap, swatted his palms all over the earthen floor, and found both their lanterns perched side by side at the top of their sleeping bags. He snatched them up and ran hunched over to get back outside. He thrust one lamp at Erin, and together they started back toward the horses. Wyatt made a quick detour to grab the first aid kit. He’d removed it from a pack almost immediately last night, and the white plastic case glowed in the darkness like a bluish-white beacon.

  When they reached the horses, Erin held her lantern high so Wyatt could see Barbwire, but the sphere of light allowed him to examine only parts of the mule at a time. Wyatt found one long gash on his right hindquarter. It didn’t run deep. The animal was barely bleeding. What had happened was obvious. Barbwire, unable to run because he was tied to the highline, had been attacked. But something had stopped the wolf from doing any more damage.

  Wyatt fixed his gaze on Erin. Holding her light high above her head, she was bathed in bluish illumination and resembled a ragtag angel dressed in dirty jeans and a limp T-shirt. Her countenance was an indistinct blur of shadow and gray planes, but Wyatt wasn’t frustrated by the darkness. He had memorized every line of her face.

  “He’s okay,” he told her. “We should probably disinfect the wound, though.” He glanced toward the trees, which were cloaked in blackness. “Did you shoot any of them?”

  “No. I aimed high, hoping to just scare them off. That’s what you said to do.”

  After they flooded the shallow slash on Barbwire’s haunch with disinfectant, they walked the highline, checking on every horse. Wyatt talked, but he didn’t know if Erin replied. And he suddenly felt like he was five years old again, a little deaf boy who wanted a drink of water or something to eat and had difficulty communicating his needs to the adults around him.

  * * *

  * * *

  When they finally returned to the campfire, which burned brightly only about fifty feet from the highline, they both collapsed on the ground beside each other, Wyatt from exhaustion after running around half of the lake, and Erin with relief. Erin knew why Wyatt was drained. She assumed he knew her reasons for feeling just as exhausted. Being terrified and trying to fend off a pack of wolves had been one of the most harrowing experiences of her life, far worse than the time a crazy guy in Seattle had held his wife hostage at gunpoint. Every officer on the scene had been afraid the husband might open fire on them at any moment, and Erin had been just as afraid as all her colleagues.

  The skirmish with the wolves had been even worse. At least back in King County, Erin had known where the man with the gun was, and she’d been able to determine from what direction a bullet might come. With the wolves, she’d been surrounded, and an attack could have come from any angle.

  “You okay?” Wyatt asked.

  Firelight illuminating her face, she turned toward him and said, “Just shaken up. It’ll be a while before I can relax and go to sleep.” She drew her shoulders up in a shrug. “I didn’t live near wilderness areas as a kid like you did. I love it up here.” She gestured at the darkness that surrounded them like impenetrable walls. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s beautiful. But the most dangerous dog I ever encountered in King County was a miniature schnauzer with an attitude problem. Those wolves are gigantic, and as regal as they look in photographs, there’s nothing inspiring about them when they move in on you drooling with hunger.” She lifted her loosely cupped hands. “And I’m still upset about our quarrel. Well, not a quarrel, really. I can’t argue that what I did was right. I can only beg for your forgiveness, and I do that tongue in cheek, because I would be furious if you’d done the same thing to me.”

  * * *

  * * *

  Wyatt’s outrage had been snuffed out the moment he’d seen Erin run back into the firelight with a rifle. Instead of walking off his anger, he’d been forced to run if off. Now, he felt calm, as if all his emotions had been deadened. Well, not all his emotions. He still loved Erin. In fact, he was now aware of how deeply his affection for her ran. When he’d believed she might be injured or even killed, all his peripheral feelings had boiled away like steam from a stewpot, and he was left with only an intense love for someone he could never be with. Not if he truly loved her. And he did.

  “Actually, Erin, when I look at it rationally, I have to admit that I might have done the same thing.” He took a deep breath. “And now, in retrospect, I’m glad you read the transcripts. You saw for yourself that I’m not a safe bet when it comes to intimacy. And after tonight, you know that when the circumstances aren’t just right, I’m unable even to protect you. You need a better man than I am.”

  “What makes you think I need to be protected?”

  “Don’t get all bent out of shape and let your father take part in this conversation.” He set his jaw and held her gaze. “Away from the fire, there was no light. For a few minutes ther
e, I was both blind and deaf. I had no idea where you were, and if it hadn’t been for Domino coming to get me, I would have been tearing around out here, looking for you in all the wrong places. You could have been killed.”

  “Looking at that rationally, I’m an expert marksman and was just as capable of fending off a pack of wolves as you would have been.” She jutted her chin at him. “And my saying that has nothing to do with my former hang-ups about measuring up to or outshining any man, including you. It’s a matter of fact.”

  “Your former hang-ups?”

  “Yes, former hang-ups. I’m almost over that, Wyatt. Being at the ranch—no, being around you and working with Firecracker has changed me. My father no longer has a hold over me. Surely you’ve noticed the difference.” She bent her knees and hugged them to her chest. “I no longer feel a frantic need to prove anything to anyone. Maybe the broken little girl inside me will rear her ugly head every once in a while. I sure do see the broken little boy within you showing his face tonight. But I’ll never allow that little girl to control me again.”

  Wyatt bristled. “What the hell does that mean? My broken little boy grew up and faced reality a long time ago.”

  “His view of reality. Oh, yeah. You faced his version and accepted it. Right? You’re so glad to be deaf now that you’re feeling giddy. You’re not broken anymore. Nothing about you needs to be fixed now. You’ve come to feel at peace with your disability. The only problem is, by accepting it, you’ve taken your own measure, found yourself lacking, and are running from life.”

  “Oh, wow,” he said. “The bullshit is getting so deep it’s up to my eyebrows.”

  “Exactly. Who can see clearly through a bunch of bullshit? Only it’s bullshit of your own making that’s blinding you, not mine.” She reached over and tapped his shoulder lightly. “Did you feel that?”

  Wyatt didn’t understand the point she was trying to make. “Of course I felt it.”

  “Point made!” She glared up at him. “For a man who’s an expert at communicating in ASL, you’re incredibly dense when it comes to the possibility of other signs of communication working well for you!” Her chin jutted forward again. “Let’s say that a tap on your shoulder means ‘Stop!’ Nice and easy for you to understand, even in the dark! But your little boy can’t go there, because he’s still broken, and his brokenness harmed someone. Instead of facing what happened and making sure it can never occur again, you’re running from ever being with a woman again.”

  Wyatt pushed to his feet. “I couldn’t set up stupid tap signals with that woman because she didn’t know I was deaf. And what’s that got to do with what happened with the wolves tonight? I was useless.”

  “You weren’t useless. You grabbed the first weapon you could get your hands on, and when you found me, you charged into a pack of wolves, swinging. And, by the way, I do know you’re deaf. Tap signals wouldn’t be a big deal for us to set up. We could create our own special sign language for when we’re making love, but you won’t even consider the possibility!”

  Wyatt turned and stalked off into the darkness. He needed to get away from Erin, fast. Tap signals? For just a moment, his heart had leaped with wild hope only to crash at his feet when reality sank in again. What did she think, that certain numbers of taps could signify different messages? One for stop. Two for don’t touch me. Three for that hurts. Did she think a guy could count when he was having sex? Wyatt had heard of men mentally reciting baseball stats to avoid premature ejaculation or just to perform longer, but that was a tactic to dampen their ardor and deal with a bedroom failing. Definitely not a pleasure enhancer. He could almost picture himself staring stupidly into the darkness, trying to remember what the hell three taps were supposed to mean.

  And he had to keep his head on straight about what had happened tonight. He’d been upset and hadn’t sensed the presence of the wolves until it had been almost too late. He’d made it around the lake in time, but if it hadn’t been for Domino, he wouldn’t have found Erin soon enough to help drive off the wolves. And even then, the only weapon he’d had was a big stick when anyone with half a brain would have been carrying a rifle.

  He felt both exhausted and heartsick when he returned to the fire and found Erin still sitting near the flames as if he’d only taken a break from their conversation. He didn’t want to talk anymore. He didn’t even want to be near her. Why test his willpower when he didn’t have to?

  He hunkered by the fire and stared into the flames. One good thing about being deaf was his ability to shut other people out by simply not looking at them. He was still congratulating himself on that when a pine cone hit him on the shoulder. He glanced up to find Erin grinning at him.

  “Give me this week,” she said. “I’ll never ask for anything more, only this week, Wyatt. If I haven’t changed your mind by the time we leave this mountain lake, I’ll cut my losses and accept that there can never be anything more between us.” When he said nothing, she added, “Think of it as a dare. Maybe even a double dare. Throw caution to the wind and just make love with me. If it’s awful, the cure for that is simple. We just won’t do it again. What do you say?”

  “I say you’re nuts.” She had no idea how badly he wanted to take her up on the proposition. What guy alive could turn his nose up at an offer of a week’s vacation in the arms of a beautiful woman, with no strings attached? “And I say, no, thanks. You weren’t there that night. It was horrible, and I’ll never go there again. I care about you. I want you. Don’t think my refusal has anything to do with you or your desirability, because it doesn’t. This is only about me.”

  “No, Wyatt, this is about your fears. The truth is, what happened that night left you bleeding, and you’re too chicken to put yourself at risk again.” She scrambled to her feet and gazed down at him. “I’m going to bed. And just so you know, I’m not about to sleep alone in the other tent. If you try to bed down somewhere else, I’ll find you.”

  “The wolves won’t be back tonight. Maybe not ever. As a pack, they pick easy kills, and they know now that the horses are well guarded.”

  “Tell it to a tree. I’m not going to take any chances.”

  As she turned to walk away, he couldn’t resist saying, “But you’re willing to take chances on a guy like me?”

  He’d intended it as a dig, but she was smiling as she turned to face him again. “In a heartbeat,” she told him.

  After she vanished into the darkness, he remained by the fire. He was aware when a lantern came on inside the tent, and he tried his damnedest not to look in that direction, but his eyes felt like refrigerator magnets that couldn’t resist the draw of steel. She was undressing. Her silhouette was cast against the nylon wall of the tent. In stark detail, he could see the shape of her breasts, the slope of her ribs, the indentation of her waist, and the sexy flare of her hips. His mouth went as dry as a sun-bleached bone. He’d warned her about not using a light in the tent. It followed that she knew very well she was putting on a show and that he might be watching. The realization infuriated him, and he sprang to his feet.

  With both anger and need pushing him, he strode to the tent, swept aside the flap, and stepped inside. He’d intended to make a grand entrance and intimidate the hell out of her, but he’d forgotten this was a pup tent that didn’t allow him to stand erect. The space was also tiny, barely large enough for two people to sleep beside each other without spooning. His nose was level with hers, because unlike him, she was short enough to stand upright. She was still stark naked as well, and she made no attempt to cover any part of herself with her hands or arms. Wyatt could remember when she’d been mortified to have him see her in a tank top. He guessed maybe being at the ranch truly had helped her win the war with some of her demons. She definitely didn’t look embarrassed now. She stood with her shoulders back, a woman who knew she was beautiful and felt empowered.

  It aggravated the hell out of him.

 
“Are you sure this is what you want? Sex with a bad boy for a whole week? Because I can give you bad, Erin. Just say the word.”

  “What word would that be? I can think of only three: go for it.”

  Angry and aroused wasn’t a good combination of emotions for a man to have when a woman challenged him to take her. Wyatt snaked out a hand, grabbed her wrist, and jerked her toward him. Stooped over as he was, her breasts were available to him with a mere dip of his head, and he latched onto a nipple. He didn’t try to be gentle. He hoped to scare the sand out of her and make her think twice about daring a dangerous man to make love to her.

  Only she didn’t react as if he’d shocked her. Instead she ran her hands into his hair, made fists, and drew him closer. He felt her body arch toward him, and in that moment, his need of her wiped every shred of reluctance from his mind. Erin. She had perspired all day while working with him. Her nipple was as salty as a potato chip and tasted even better. He had to suckle the other one, and he felt the vibrations from her moans of pleasure. At least, he hoped those were moans of pleasure, because she’d pushed him to the snapping point. He couldn’t have stopped himself then if he had tried.

  Wyatt caught her behind the knees, scooped her into his arms, and all but fell with her onto their bedding, only narrowly missing Domino, who’d taken up squatting rights on his pillow. When he abandoned her breast to kiss her, she caught his face between her hands.

  “There are two ground rules,” she told him. “One tap means that I want you to stop. Two taps means I enjoy what you’re doing and don’t want you to stop. Are we clear on that?”