Katelyn smiled. He didn't speak his affection for her often, but when he did, he made her tingle with pleasure. "Just wait, soon you'll grow lazy and fat just . . . "
"Shhhh!" Tipaakke held up a hand, freezing in his steps. "Do not move," he commanded. "Listen."
Her heart beat pounded with terror at the sound of his voice. What was wrong? What was he talking about? A few months ago she would have voiced her thoughts, but now she listened intently.
At first she heard nothing, but then a terrifying noise filled her eardrums, a great booming resounding through the trees. The ice . . . it was moving.
"Listen, move quietly to the bank," Tipaakke instructed, sliding his feet slowly to the left. "Do not speak. The ice is giving way."
Carefully, the two made their way to the bank, listening to the moaning ice, watching as crack after crack appeared.
At the instant that Katelyn thought she was safe, the earth beneath her gave way with one great splintering swoosh. Instinctively, she grabbed for the overhanging branches above, managing to gain a hold as her feet hit the icy water.
Tipaakke reacted without thinking, throwing his body at hers, forcing her onto the bank. Katelyn screamed as she watched him fall behind her, his head striking the ice as he went down.
For a moment, she didn't breath. If she had, she knew he would have slipped into the frigid darkness forever. But then, as the creaking ceased, she pulled herself the rest of the way onto the bank, ignoring the cold, wet pain that seeped at her legs.
She stared down at Fox. He lay motionless, his body half in the water, half out. His head rested in a spreading puddle of congealing blood, but his chest still rose and fell.
What am I going to do, her mind screamed. How am I going to get him up here? If I try to get down to him, the ice is liable to give in and we'll both drown. Frantically she looked around. She had to find a way to get him up to her. His body lay close to the bank's edge. Maybe she could pull him up.
First, Katelyn eased herself down the bank again, but she soon realized she didn't have the strength to hold on to her support branch and pulled him up the bank. She'd never be able to budge him that way.
Back on solid ground, she stared down at Tipaakke's still body. There had to be a way! He told her there was always a way when you wanted something badly enough. Hopping up and down to bring the circulation back to her feet, Katelyn's mind raced. She had to think of something fast. Did she risk the chance and run to Joe for help? No, if the wound didn't kill him, he would freeze to death before they got back. No, she had to save him and she had to do it alone.
Then something caught her eye. Still on Tipaakke's arm was his bag. Of course! There had to be something in there she could use to tie around him and pull him up! Dumping her own bag onto the frozen ground, she threw the packages of sugar and tea aside. There at the bottom was a snare string!
Anxiously, Katelyn got to her feet, untying the knots in the string. It was short and thin; it might cut into his flesh, but it would do. Now she had to find the strength to pull him up.
Jumping up and down a few more times to ward off the numbing cold of her wet feet, she lowered herself down the bank again. Balancing carefully, she reached for his arm. On the third swing she caught it and tied the string around it. Tying the other end around her waist, Katelyn began to pull herself up by the hanging branches. Slowly, with tugging and sweat, she made her way up with Tipaakke's body sliding behind her. As she reached the top and began to pull him up the slight bank, she blessed him over and over again for being a small man. If he'd been much taller than she, she'd never have been able to get him up. Still, it was an effort every inch of the way to move his dead weight. She called to him again and again, saying his name, talking to him, but he never flinched.
Finally, Katelyn flung herself onto the ground, her breath coming in short pants. Once she began to breath more easily, she got up again, knowing she had to keep moving if she was going to keep herself from freezing. Calmly, she walked into the woods and pulled her knife from its sheath. Sawing at a small limb, she worked on it until it came down. Though she had only about a mile to walk, she couldn't pull by his arms that far. But if she could cradle him in the branches and pull the limb, his weight would be dispersed and easier to move.
Methodically, Katelyn worked, stopping only to jump up and down long enough to restore the circulation to her deadening limbs. When she got his body rolled onto the branch and positioned correctly, she tied him on with the snare string. She could have used his string as well, but his bag had been lost in the water.
When he was situated, she grabbed the limb and started off in the direction of Joe's cabin. The going was slow over the snow because she had to go around stumps and fallen trees, but she made her way, further and further from the place in the river where they fell in.
When Katelyn felt like she couldn't walk another step, she took two more and then she stopped to rest. Again and again she pulled for a few minutes and then rested, then pulled again. Once or twice a groan escaped from Tipaakke's lips, but other than that he said nothing and never attempted to move.
When it became almost too dark to see, Katelyn realized she could pull Tipaakke no further. She was too tired and too numb with cold. Her mind was beginning to work more slowly, her eyes playing tricks on her. Pulling Tipaakke under a tree for protection, she yanked off a layer of semidry skins and covered him up. Then she started out in the direction of the smell of smoke. She knew Joe's cabin couldn't be far.
When Katelyn reached the small lean-to, she was barely coherent. Leaning against the crude door, she banged with a fist.
"Who is it?" a gruff voice called from within.
"Joe? Joe, help. Tipaakke's fallen in the river, his . . . "
The door swung open and a small man appeared. "Fox has what? Where is he?" Grabbing her arm, he pulled her into the warmth of the cabin.
Katelyn pointed out the door. "Not far back, I can show you. Fell in the river." Her head rolled with exhaustion.
"No. You stay here. My Lena'll take care of you." The dark-haired man reached for a heavy woolen cloak near the door.
"Come, poor girl," a soft voice plied. "Come near the fire, you're half frozen."
Through her eyelashes Katelyn saw the dim outline of a dark-faced woman with a bright cloth tied around her head. The room was so warm, she wanted to just melt in its dim light. But, she had to get back to Tipaakke; she had to help Joe.
"No, stay here. My Joe'll find him. Follow your tracks in the snow." She spoke in a strange way, her words oddly accented.
In a dream-like state, Katelyn moved to the bright fire, allowing the strange dark woman to pull the layers of skins from her shoulders.
"Hush, baby-child," the woman murmured. "Ol' Lena's here now, she'll take care of you."
Without much insistence, Katelyn lay down on the dry mat the woman offered in front of the fireplace. After that, she drifted into a heavy, dreamless sleep.
Sometime in the middle of the night, Katelyn woke. For a moment she didn't know where she was, but then memories of the ice and Tipaakke's fall flooded her muddled mind. Bolting upright, she glanced around the tiny cabin. With relief, she spotted Tipaakke only a few paces from her. Getting on her knees, she crawled to where he lay and peered down at his face.
He lay flat on his back, his head bandaged with a strip of clean white cloth. His chest rose and fell evenly. For a moment Katelyn debated whether or not she would try and wake him. Was he still unconscious? How long had she slept? She peered across the fire-lit room at the two figures sleeping in the narrow built-in bed. Cooking Joe and Lena wouldn't have gone to sleep if he hadn't been all right, would they? She looked back at Tipaakke's calm face. The light of the fire highlighted his high cheekbones and bronze skin. She reached out to brush his cheek with the palm of her hand. Tomorrow will be soon enough to know his fate, she decided, laying her head on his chest. Tonight he's in Manito's hands.
Tipaakke's brain stirred as he felt a w
ave of consciousness flow through his veins. His mind flickered with pictures of the river bed he and Katelyn had walked on, the deafening sound of the cracking ice. As he forced his head to clear, he realized an image was forming. It was orange, red, and brown all at once and its scent enveloped him. Then he realized his eyes were open. He was seeing something! Slowly the image came into focus as he lay quietly giving it time. His head pounded until it echoed and the bright light of the room pierced him from all sides; but, he forced his eyelids to remain open. He raised a hand slowly to run it through Katelyn's hair. It was hair! The hair he saw!
Tipaakke smiled at his blessed luck, keeping his eyes fixed on her magical hair. It was even more beautiful than he'd remembered with its autumn browns and golds and brilliant streaks of light and dark. He wound a bright strand round and round his finger in disbelief. Was this really happening? Had his sight returned, or was he walking in the dream world? He recalled his fall on the ice and the great crack that had sounded in his head before darkness overtook him. Maybe he was not alive at all . . . .
No, this was life; he knew it! The air smelled of life. It tasted like life! Slowly he dared to move his eyes. Laying in his arms was Katelyn. Her face rested on his bare chest, her pale body curled at his side. Had her skin always been of such a luminescent ivory hue? He reached to stroke a bare hip tentatively. Her flesh was smooth and warm beneath his touch. It was the flesh he had come to know and worship but had never seen more than a glimpse of. Heavenly Father she was sweet!
Katelyn stirred at Tipaakke's touch, then her eyes flew open and she sat up. "Fox." She stared into his silky, dark eyes. A smile played on his familiar lips. For a moment she was confused. He looked the same, yet different. Then her jaw dropped. "You can see! You can see!"
Tipaakke nodded, the smile forming into a grin. "I see, my dove."
Katelyn stared, still in shock. "How? Why?" Words tumbled from her mouth, but she gave him no chance to reply. "The knock on the head . . . it must have . . . you must have . . . " She leaned to press kisses to his face. "Why didn't you wake me?"
He ran his finger along her bare shoulder. "I was busy looking at you." He ran the finger over her lips.
"Does your head hurt?" She laid her head on the blood-stained bandage.
"It hurts. My eyes hurt; but, I see." His voice filled the air with a soft hum. "All of my sight has returned except for a few shadows on this eye." He pointed to the left.
Katelyn dropped her head back on his chest, squeezing him tight with her arms. "I can't believe it! I can't believe you can see. I thought the Shaman said you would never see again."
"He didn't know. An injury to the head is a strange thing. The white man's bullet is still in my head. It must have moved."
"I don't care," she cried joyfully. You can see." She looked up to see Lena and Joe rising. "He can see!"
Lena broke into a grin. "This is good. I make us our morning meal, and our friend will see his cakes and honey."
Cooking Joe heaved up the suspenders on his woolen breeches and came to them. "So my friend, Fox, sees again. I knew you would."
Katelyn shrank beneath the wool blanket she was wrapped in, trying to conceal her nakedness. "Could I have clothes, Lena?"
Lena handed her the doeskin dress Katelyn had worn the day before. "It was damp, but Lena dry it and make it soft again." She turned to Joe. "You get out of here and let this Kate-lyn get her dress on. You get water and more wood." The small, dark woman gave her husband a shove on the back. "That Joe," she shook her head, "he got no sense sometimes." Shaking her head, she went to her pantry shelves and began banging pots and moving jars of flour and honey onto the table.
Pulling her dress over her head, Katelyn got to her feet. "So are you going to get up and have some of Lena's cakes and honey or are you going to lay there all day?" She prodded Tipaakke's arm playfully with her bare foot.
He grabbed her foot with a quick sweep of his hand, forcing her to balance on the other. "Take care, Katie-girl. We'll have no more of your silly games now. The Fox's sight has returned. Now he will teach you how to be the proper squaw." Still holding her foot, he propped himself up on one elbow. "You must learn from Lena. She knows how to care for her man, and she knows her place."
Lena laughed, throwing up a dark hand covered in flour. "Our men, they talk so much," she shook a finger, "but they know who honeys their bread."
Katelyn stared down at Tipaakke with sparkling brown eyes. "Are you going to let me go or am I going to stand on one foot all day?" She knew by the look on his face that he was amazed that she had kept her balance so long. He had taught her to control her body, and control it well.
"I think I will let you go." He released her foot, tucking his hands behind his head. "But only because I wish to, not because my squaw tells me."
Katelyn looked down at his striking bronze face. This was a game they'd played all winter. He did things for her because she asked, but always made it a point of telling her he did it because he chose to, not because she wished it. These redmen were a strange lot, Katelyn decided, going over to Lena. "I haven't thanked you for helping us," she told the black woman, leaning over to stare into the bowl.
"No need to thank. You did it all. My Joe, he didn't have to bring our friend far. You are a smart girl." She dripped melted fat into the mixing bowl. "Those fancy breeches saved him from freezing. If he had only worn moccasins as he used to, my Joe says he would have lost toes, maybe flesh." She stirred the mixture with a hand-carved spoon, then lifted it to shake in Tipaakke's direction. "You are a lucky man, Tipaakke Oopus to have this smart girl. She save your life."
Tipaakke pulled on the woolen breeches left for him by Joe and came to stand with the women. "I am lucky. I know this," he spoke huskily, reaching to tuck a tendril of hair behind her ear. "And when we sit down to your meal of honey and cakes, she will tell us just how she saved the Fox."
For three nights Tipaakke and Katelyn remained with Cooking Joe and Lena, enjoying their hospitality. Together the four ate and drank their fill, remaining in the cabin where they sat around the fire telling stories and talking about their pasts. Seeing Tipaakke among friends and listening to him tell tales of his childhood gave Katelyn great insight as to what kind of man he was and she left the cabin with a new respect for him. She was beginning to realize that she really was happy with him. She needed him and she loved him. He needed her. Maybe he would learn to love her.
Hand in hand Katelyn and Tipaakke left Joe and Lena on the fourth day and with light hearts they returned to their own cabin, traveling by land. The temperature was beginning to climb, and they knew spring would soon be upon them.
Chapter Nine
"Don't say that!" Katelyn flung. She took another step back, moving like a caged animal. Her world crumbling again. "Leave me alone! Don't touch me! I don't want to talk to you; I don't want to look at you!"
Tipaakke held his ground, reaching out impatiently with one hand. "What's wrong with you? You knew it would happen." He dropped his hand in exasperation.
She pushed back a lock of wildly tangled hair, narrowing her eyes. "It can't be . . . " A sob escaped her tightly compressed lips. "I can't be with child . . . "
"Katelyn." Tipaakke tried reasoning with her. "We've shared a mat for many moons. How long has it been since your last woman's time?"
She blushed a deep crimson. "How dare you ask me such a thing," she spit.
"How can you be so childish? I was a married man for many years. You think I don't know a woman's body?" He clenched his fist tightly, trying to control his anger. Everytime he thought things were going well between them, she went crazy again, and he was tired of it. Things between them had gone so well since his sight had returned that he was beginning to believe they really could live together in peace. And now there was this!
" It doesn't matter, a man shouldn't ask a woman a question like that." She took another step back.
Tipaakke swung around, banging his fist on the wooden table. "I h
ave had enough of this, Katelyn Locke!" He spun back around. "Do you know what's wrong with you? You're a child. You want to be treated like a woman, you want the pleasures of a woman, but you act like a babe on her mother's board."
"This is all your fault," she snapped. "Don't talk to me about being childish, because I don't want to hear about it. I wouldn't be in this mess if it weren't for you!"
Tipaakke curled his fingers until his fist was a ball and began to stalk her. "Yes, I took you from the coward who left you to die. Yes, I brought you here to care for me, but I never made you lie with me. Never." His voice had become deathly low.
Suddenly, Katelyn was frightened. Fox had never shouted at her like that. He never lost his temper. No matter how hard she pushed, he'd never let anger get the best of him. He had never been cruel like this.
"Tell me," Tipaakke threatened, moving closer. "Tell me how long it has been. I have had enough of your foolish games. The Fox does not play games."
"I can't be having a baby," she shook her head wildly, "only married women have children."
"Don't be daft, woman!" He grabbed her arm, yanking her closer. "Now tell me before I strike you."
Katelyn's face hardened, her mouth grew taunt with spite. "I hate you. You're nothing but an ignorant savage. You've ruined my life!" She raised a hand to hit him in the face, but Tipaakke's hand flew up to stop her.
"I do not believe in hitting women. I have never struck anyone in anger, but you tempt me." He spoke in the low, calm voice that infuriated her. "Don't you ever raise your hand to me again, do you understand?" He tightened his grip on her hand until she threatened to cry out.
"Let go of me," Katelyn warned. "I can't stand your touch."
"You want that Henry Coward to touch you? I've ruined your life you say. That man left you in the hands of the enemy. You would like that man who is no man to touch you?"
"Liar!" Katelyn spat.
"You want that murderer to run his hands over your breasts?"
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