Hidden Worlds

by Kristie Cook

  “Now, who’s the liar?” River’s smile turned deadly. “You need to purge the foreign food from your system before it poisons you.”

  Jonathan was glad he wasn’t the one pissing her off.

  Eli ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe an extreme cleanse isn’t necessary. He’s been here for over twenty-four hours with no symptoms of illness, correct?”

  Jonathan wanted to bury his fist in Eli’s nose. “It’s strange how that part just slipped your mind when I was the only one purging, huh buddy?”

  “Watch your tone with me, outsider. You have no idea who I am.”

  “Sure I do. You’re the guy that can’t hold onto his own knife.” Jonathan kept Eli in his peripheral vision as he spoke to River. “I still don’t trust him. He could slip something extra into my dose.”

  River smiled. “Once he’s brewed the emetic, Eli isn’t touching it. I’ll pour and serve each dose.”

  It wasn’t ideal, but Jonathan trusted River. “How long is this going to take?”

  Eli wiped the back of his hand over his brow. “Eight hours, but it’ll feel like two weeks.”

  ***

  After two hours of projectile vomiting into a bucket, Jonathan thought he was dying. He dry heaved for another hour before he could swallow the snow River kept trying to spoon down his throat. It took another three hours before he managed to keep any of it down. By then he would have welcomed death. He was too weak to sit up. Between bouts of puking he slept on the floor, curled up around his bucket. His only consolation was that Eli was every bit as sick as he was and twice as vocal. He whined like a little girl and demanded River wash his bucket out every time he so much as spit in it.

  When it was finally over, Jonathan crawled into bed and collapsed. River brought him a cup of chamomile tea then slid in behind him and supported his head and shoulders while he sipped it. She leaned in close and whispered, “Thank you for going along with this.”

  Jonathan nodded, then closed his eyes. When he opened them again, sunlight streaming in through the single window by the door blinded him. He sat up and shielded his eyes. Eli was dressed and seated at the small table in front of the stove. There was no sign of River.

  Jonathan crawled out of bed and checked the upper bunks. The middle one was unmade, but empty. “Where’s River?”

  “Hunting.”

  Jonathan jammed his feet into his boots and headed towards the door without tying them. He grabbed his coat off the peg on the wall and pulled his glove out of the pocket.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Eli took a sip from his steaming cup.

  “To help her.”

  “How? By scaring off the game?”

  Whatever was in Eli’s cup smelled so good it made Jonathan’s mouth water. “Is that soup?”

  Eli stared at Jonathan over the rim of his cup as he drained it. He smacked his lips then nodded at the other cup on the table. “That one’s for you.”

  The aroma kicked Jonathan’s salivary glands into overdrive, but there was no way he was going to drink anything Eli offered. “No, thanks.”

  “What’s the matter, outsider? Is your palate too sensitive for venison broth?”

  “I’m not hungry.” Jonathan’s stomach growled in denial, but for all he knew, the broth could be full of rat poison.

  Eli grinned and picked up the cup. “Well, if you don’t want it …” He took a sip then sighed with obvious pleasure as he set the cup back on the table. “I’ve been awake for hours. If I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead.”

  He had a point.

  Jonathan tossed his coat onto his bed then fetched the cup off the table. He took a sip and rolled it around on his tongue then drained the cup. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Why do you keep calling me ‘outsider?’ I was born and raised in Leadville.”

  “You have no idea how far away that is.”

  The trailhead where Jonathan had parked his car was at least sixty miles from his destroyed campsite. He’d hiked another fifteen looking for shelter before he ran into the mountain lion. He’d been so disoriented with hypothermia he had no idea how far he and River had hiked—or in what direction. “It’s not more than a hundred miles...is it?”

  “Why? Are you thinking about running away?” Eli’s eyes flashed a brighter shade of blue. “You better be sure you can succeed before you try, because if you leave during my watch, I’ll hunt you down and carve you into bite-sized pieces and feed you to the crows. Do you understand?”

  Jonathan nodded. He understood alright. If he escaped while River was gone, Eli would be in trouble, not her. He didn’t want anyone to be brutally punished, not even Eli, but Jonathan wasn’t the one that made up the rules. He wasn’t the one threatening to feed people to the birds either.

  “Why do you hate me so much? You don’t even know me.”

  Eli leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Because recruits are a pain in the ass and I have enough to worry about without taking on more responsibilities. I don’t need any more distractions.”

  “I’m River’s recruit, so I’m her distraction, not yours.”

  “River’s problems become my problems the instant we’re married.”

  Jonathan’s mouth fell open. He snapped it shut then leaned against the wall, trying to look as if Eli’s announcement hadn’t just knocked the wind out of him. “So you’re what? Engaged?”

  “Betrothed.”

  Why did that bother him so much? And why hadn’t River mentioned she was betrothed when she was quizzing Jonathan about his relationship status. He’d assumed her silence on the subject meant she was single. Actually, he’d assumed it meant she was interested. Yeah, right. Sure, he and River had shared a couple of tender moments. She’d taken better care of him during the purge than she had Eli, but that didn’t mean anything. Eli’s whining was so annoying it would have driven off his own mother.

  “When will River be back?” Jonathan sighed then cracked his neck, as if he were bored.

  “Not until dark. She loves hunting.”

  Perfect. “If she gets a deer, how’s she going to get it back here? Did she borrow your horse?”

  “I doubt she’ll bag a deer in one day, but if she does, she’ll field dress it and bring back the best cuts, leaving the rest for the wolves.”

  Fantastic. “Until I saw that black wolf in my family’s mine, I had no idea there were wolves in Colorado.” Jonathan stretched and yawned and moved a little closer to Eli.

  Eli narrowed his eyes. “Knocking a wolf out with a rock was nothing but pure, dumb luck. So was disarming me.”

  Jonathan reached forward as if he were going to set his cup on the table, then slammed his elbow into Eli’s temple.

  Eli’s eyes rolled up into his head.

  “How’s that for pure, dumb luck?” Jonathan propped him back up then unlaced Eli’s boots and used the rawhide laces to bind his hands and feet to the chair.

  It took him a lot longer to do it with one hand, but at least he got it done. Eli wasn’t going anywhere until River came back and untied him. By then, Jonathan would be long gone.

  He put his coat on, fastened the toggles and slipped his hand into his glove. River had taken care of Eli’s horse during their purge so he had no problem finding the barn. He just followed her tracks.

  Jonathan hadn’t been on a horse in years, but knew how to ride. He and Franklin spent every summer between their sixth and fourteenth birthdays on Granddad McKnight’s horse ranch...until mixed martial arts took over their lives.

  Jonathan’s confidence plummeted when he didn’t find a saddle in the barn. He didn’t find a bridle either, just a hackamore. This was going to be more challenging than he thought. But there was no going back. Not after knocking Eli out and tying him up.

  At least the horse looked friendly.

  Jonathan had heard Eli and River refer to the gelding as Old Red, so he called him by name then walked up to him and let him sn
iff his face. Jonathan was in a hurry, but a little time spent getting acquainted could be the difference between getting away, or getting thrown.

  It was hard to determine the horse’s breed. He stood about fifteen hands and had the muscular body of a quarter horse; but with a curly coat and a dread-locked mane. Jonathan had never seen a horse quite like this one.

  Red twitched his ears forward and blew steam out his nose. He didn’t object when Jonathan slipped the hackamore on, or ran his hand over his back.

  “I think you and I are going to get along just fine.”

  Jonathan wrapped his hand in the horse’s mane and tried to swing onto his back.

  Red laid his ears flat against his neck and shied sideways.

  “Oh come on!” Granddad McKnight had taught Jonathan to approach a horse from his “near” or left side and to always mount from that side as well. He didn’t know why it was such a big deal, but some horses refused to let a rider mount from the right. Apparently, Red was one of those horses.

  But no saddle meant no stirrups and no left hand meant he couldn’t grab onto Red’s mane. He tried to mount from the right a few more times, but Red got even more agitated.

  Jonathan moved to the left side and tried to vault on, using his stump for leverage, but Red didn’t like that either. He bucked and kicked for a good five seconds. Jonathan was lucky he didn’t get trampled.

  He led Red outside so he could walk him around and settle him down before trying again.

  A fallen tree behind the barn gave Jonathan an idea. He used it like a stepping stool and climbed on from the left. Red barely twitched—until Jonathan leaned forward and gently pressed the heels of his boots against Red’s sides.

  Years of gymnastics and martial arts training was the only reason Jonathan didn’t fall off. His summers in Montana hadn’t prepared him for riding bareback.

  The first sixty seconds were sheer terror. But when Jonathan quit trying to anticipate the rhythm of Old Red’s gait and just let his body react naturally, it was much easier. Once the cabin was out of sight, he headed northeast. He let Red pick his own pace, which turned out to be a smooth, brisk, mile-eating walk.

  Jonathan had no idea how to get home, but he’d started out in the Sawatch Mountain Wilderness. If he kept traveling northeast, he’d eventually hit Highway 24.

  He’d gone about five miles when a high-pitched whistle shattered the morning silence. Jonathan froze. Red stopped and turned his head towards the sound. Another whistle, long and low, had him trotting towards the forest. Jonathan tried to turn him the other way, but Red refused to cooperate.

  River stepped out of the shadows. She held her bow by her side, an arrow already on the string. “What are you doing on Eli’s horse?”

  “I borrowed it.”

  “Why? Is Eli okay?” Concern wrinkled her brow.

  A flash of irrational jealousy loosened Jonathan’s tongue. “Your betrothed will wake up with a headache and a very bad attitude, but he’s fine.”

  In less time than it took to blink, River had her bow up, the string pulled back against the side of her face and an arrow pointed at Jonathan’s pounding heart.

  He’d expected her to be pissed, but he hadn’t expected her to shoot him. “Lower your weapon.”

  She glared at him. “Are you trying to leave?”

  Jonathan wanted to dig his heels into Red and make a run for it … but those stories about ninjas dodging arrows were highly exaggerated. “I got tired of listening to your betrothed’s empty threats and decided it was time to go home.”

  River slackened the string, but kept the arrow pointed at Jonathan’s heart. “I’m not betrothed.”

  Jonathan shrugged, faking a disinterested attitude. “It sounds like you and Eli need to discuss the status of your relationship.”

  River lowered her bow and walked towards Jonathan. She grabbed Red’s reins. “I ran into a patrol about two hours ago. If they see you out here, alone, on Eli’s horse, they’ll know you’re trying to escape and shoot you on sight.”

  “I’ll take my chances.”

  River’s eyes glistened. “I risked my life to save yours.”

  “And I fought a mountain lion to save yours. We’re even.”

  “Did you forget? If you get caught; I’ll be punished.”

  “Why do you think I waited until you left for the day? I escaped on Eli’s watch so it wouldn’t be your fault.”

  “You’re my recruit. Everything you do is my fault! If you lose something, I have to replace it. If you break something, I have to fix it. If you commit a crime, I have to share your punishment.”

  “How are they going to know I’m your recruit? I’m on Eli’s horse.”

  “I told the men on patrol that I had a new recruit. Besides, I would never let someone else take my punishment.”

  “Not even an ‘arrogant jackass?’”

  River shook her head.

  Jonathan couldn’t help but admire her ethics. “What’s the punishment for escaping?”

  “Death.”

  A cold stone of dread settled in Jonathan’s stomach. “How long will you be responsible for my actions?”

  “Forever.”

  ***

  The stone in Jonathan’s stomach shattered into a thousand shards, cutting him to the core. There was no way in hell he would buy his freedom with River’s death. He needed a new plan.

  He needed to take her with him. His blood warmed as he thought about racing across the high mountain mesa with River pressed against his back. That shouldn’t be so appealing. What was it about this wild woman that had him so hot and bothered?

  “Will you go back to the quarantine cabin peacefully?”

  “Yeah.” Jonathan sighed. “But just so you know, Eli is going to try to kill me.”

  “What did you do to him?”

  “I knocked him out and tied him to a chair.”

  “You tied him up? With what?”

  “His boot laces.”

  River grinned. “He’s not going to kill you.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because if he does, I’ll tell everyone that he let a one-handed recruit disarm him and truss him up with his own boot laces.”

  River stuck her arrow in the leather quiver on her back then lengthened the strap and took it off. She unstrung her bow, slid it into an open-ended sheath attached to the quiver then tied it securely at both ends.

  The speed and fluidity of her movements reminded Jonathan of the weapons drills he used to do in the army.

  River handed the bundled archery set to him. Jonathan assumed she wanted him to hold it for her while she mounted the horse, but she just stood there and stared at him.

  “Do you need help putting it on?”

  “You want me to wear this?”

  River sighed and rolled her pretty, brown eyes. “It’s not a good idea to ride with a quiver full of arrows pressed against your belly.”

  “Why don’t you just hop on behind me?”

  “Red’s never been ridden double before. He might not like it. I’d rather have the reins, if you don’t mind.”

  Jonathan could guarantee that Red wouldn’t like it. He handed the reins to River then slid the quiver over his shoulder.

  River wrapped the reins around her hand then grabbed a fistful of Red’s mane. She reached for Jonathan with the other. “Give me a hand up.”

  Jonathan reached across his body with his right hand and leaned over. They wrapped their fingers around each other’s wrists, locking their grip. An electric charge zinged up his arm.

  River lifted her knee to her chest then extended her foot like a ballerina, resting her heel on Red’s back. Damn, the girl was flexible … and light as a feather. Jonathan pulled her onto Red’s back with a gentle tug then wrapped his arms around her tiny waist.

  Red tossed his head and reared up.

  “Hang on!”

  River pulled Red’s head around until his nose touched her knee. He dropped back to a
ll four feet, jarring every bone in Jonathan’s body, then spun around and pranced sideways.

  River cooed and patted Red until he settled down then urged him forward.

  Jonathan took advantage of their forced closeness and pressed his chest against River’s back. He pulled his hood off, then gently tugged River’s to the side. He lowered his head until his cheek brushed against hers.

  Her body trembled.

  His responded.

  Her voice was whisper quiet, breathless. “What are you doing?”

  His voice was so low, it rumbled in his chest. “Leave with me.”

  River jerked her shoulders forward and whipped her head around. She glared at Jonathan.

  Red swung his rear to the left then broke into a canter.

  River didn’t so much as blink. Her body seemed to be an extension of the horse’s. “I can never leave! Don’t ever mention such a thing again.”

  “Okay, okay … don’t freak out on me. It was just a suggestion.” He must have misread her reaction to the closeness of his body. Hope died but he refused to give up. If he couldn’t change her mind and persuade her to go willingly, he’d rescue her by force.

  “Such talk is treason; punishable by—”

  “Death. Yeah, I got that part. Don’t you people believe in jail?”

  “No.” She shook her head and faced forward.

  He was not expecting that. “So, every crime is punished with some sort of physical torture, dismemberment or death?”

  “We don’t have much crime.”

  “I’ll bet not.”

  When they got back to the quarantine cabin, River rode past it and headed straight for the barn. Getting off was a lot easier than getting on.

  River led Red into a stall then scooped a handful of oats out of an old-fashioned barrel and dumped it into a feed bag. Red stuck his nose in the sack before River even had the strap over his ears. She handed Jonathan a scrap of what looked like buffalo hide and patted Red’s neck. “Rub him down until he’s dry. I need to have a chat with Eli.”

  ***

  The sub-zero temperature amplified sounds. Bits and pieces of Eli and River’s argument floated through the air all the way to the horse shed. Not enough to follow the conversation, but Jonathan heard River call Eli an ‘arrogant jackass’ more than once. He grinned. “You tell him, girl.”