by Susan Bliler
Chapter 13
Three days passed without much change. Cindy cooked and stayed in the cabin, and RedKnife disappeared each night, but returned to spend his days watching her cook or helping clean and restock firewood.
Getting a little stir crazy, Cindy showered the morning of the fourth day and exited her room clad in jeans, socks, and a loose sweater.
RedKnife was already stoking a fire in the hearth.
“Morning.”
“Good morning,” he responded, turning to look at her.
“So.” She clapped her hands together in front of herself. “Any word from Monroe? Is he coming to question me? Or is it okay for me to go home?”
RedKnife assured her that he’d spoken with Monroe, but that was it, nothing else had happened. She thought Monroe would either believe her or come and question her himself. Neither had happened.
“But…but that doesn’t make sense.” Her eyes crinkled in confusion. “I mean, I understand if he was worried about me being a… a spy, why he wouldn’t want me at StoneCrow, but why hasn’t he come here?”
“He doesn’t know we’re here.”
“Wait.” She help up a hand. “You said he sent you to retrieve me.”
“He did.”
“But he doesn’t know we’re here?”
“I failed to deliver you. We’ve been hiding out here. Monroe doesn’t know where we are.”
She felt dread in the pit of her stomach. “But…why?”
“I wanted to get answers for myself.”
“Because I helped you with that missing rancher?” Her anxiety only grew when he dipped his head, looking repentant.
“RedKnife?” She took a tentative step toward him.
Straightening his shoulders, he looked her straight in the eye. “I gave Monroe the initial intel on what I thought was your disloyalty. I heard you speaking of it, and I assumed it was true. I believed you were a Walker enemy.”
It took a moment for her brain to catch up and process what he’d just said. “You!” Cindy shot at him accusatorily. “You’re the reason Monroe thinks I’m a traitor?” Betrayal bit hard. “Why?” She nearly shrieked. “Why would you do that to me?”
“I heard you speaking with Cody.” He took a step toward her, but she quickly retreated.
“How? When?”
“In the parking lot, the day you found….”
“I wanna go home!”
RedKnife’s brow furrowed. Damn. She was angry, and he wanted to tell her that he’d been the dog she’d taken in, but now clearly wasn’t the time.
“I’M LEAVING!” Cindy yelled as she turned and hurried to the bedroom and jerked a dresser drawer open. Yanking articles out, she carelessly tossed them on the bed as she fought back tears. Stilling, she stared at the drawer.
“Cindy?”
“Don’t get that gentle, pleady tone with me. If you’re looking for a crybaby, you’ve got the wrong girl.” Her bravado nearly shattered when a tear slipped free and she swiped at it angrily. Fucking men! She slammed the drawer closed, realizing they weren’t even her belongings.
“I can’t let you go.”
“Right.” She whirled on him. “You can’t let me go, but you won’t take me to Monroe so I can clear my own name.” She shook her head. “You’re the reason he thinks I’m his enemy.” Her eyes burned with fury as she glared at him. “Why can’t I go?” She crossed arms over her chest and waited.
“You just…can’t.”
“You’re not protecting me by keeping me here. You’re keeping me prisoner, same as Monroe would. You’re no better than him.” She turned her back on him. “Just leave.”
When she didn’t hear him move, she scowled at him over her shoulder. Another wave of angry tears flooded her eyes. “I thought you didn’t like it inside. Leave!”
And he did. With a barely audible click of the door, she was left alone.
***
By the next morning, Cindy’s anger hadn’t faded any. Although, she did feel slight guilt at RedKnife spending the night out in the cold, it wasn’t enough to diminish her ire.
During the restless night, she’d formulated a plan. He refused to let her leave, but that didn’t mean she had to stay. She wasn’t a Montana girl, but navigating her way out of the snowy mountains couldn’t be that hard. Could it? Decided, she hurried to her room and quickly changed. One pair of thermal pants and shirt went on under her jeans and long sleeve flannel shirt. She pulled on two pair of socks and laced on the hiking boots RedKnife had provided for her. Racing to the closet she pulled free her heavy coat, wrapped a scarf around her neck and stuffed her head into a beanie.
Stepping out onto the porch as she donned her leather gloves, she half expected RedKnife to be standing there scowling at her. To her relief, he wasn’t.
Her feet disappeared into the snow with her first step off the porch, and she was glad she’d opted for two pairs of socks. The snow was still falling, but the sun was trying to force its way through. It made for an odd combination of blinding snow covered landscape with just enough bite to the air to remind her that Montana winters could be fatal.
A few steps away from the cabin, and still no sign of RedKnife. Really? Could it be this easy? Part of her was self-deprecating that she hadn’t attempted to just walk off sooner.
After another dozen or so steps and no RedKnife, she shrugged and set off at a steady pace. About a mile from the cabin, Cindy’s gait was full of confidence. RedKnife hadn’t caught her, and she was far enough away now that she doubted he’d be able to track her, even if he wanted. The snow hadn’t stopped, which meant that her tracks leading away from the cabin surely were covered over. The hiking was hard. Snow was past her knees in some places, and her pants were quickly beginning to soak through, which meant she needed to get off the mountain before nightfall. The knowledge was enough to have her quickening her pace and forging through the demanding thirst that called her an idiot for not bringing a canteen or any food.
Hours later, fear was riding her hard. She was exhausted, she was starving, and she was dying of thirst. She knew how survivors lost at sea felt. It was torturous to be surrounded by snow knowing that all she needed to do was bend down, grab a handful, and shove it into her mouth. Yet, she couldn’t. She’d seen enough episodes of I Shouldn’t Be Alive to know better than to eat the snow. It’d lower her body temperature and… Her eyes darted to the sky. Fuck! The sun was setting fast. Too fast. Still surrounded by thick forest, she knew she was nowhere near getting to any town, let alone out of the mountains. Worse, not only had the falling snow covered her tracks and prevented RedKnife from following her, but what she had hours earlier thought of as a blessing was now a curse. Turning to look back, she saw that she couldn’t back track to the cabin either. She was lost. Alone in the snowy mountains, just like all the idiots she’d watched on that damn survival TV show. The one where they’d barely survived, and hadn’t done so without frost bite claiming toes, fingers, or in some cases whole feet. The memory was enough to have her forging on, wiggling her frozen toes in her boots in an attempt to get her circulation going.
Chapter 14
Twenty minutes later, Cindy was standing with her head pressed into a tree as she fought to catch her breath. She was exhausted, and her bones and muscles ached for a break. Stupidly, she’d caved and had eaten two handfuls of snow, and now she was freezing. FREE-ZING! Her teeth chattered and her body shook hard, whether from exertion, hunger, thirst, or cold, or a combination of everything, she wasn’t sure. She figured it was cold, because her mind kept straying to thoughts of the warm fire in RedKnife’s cabin. Compounding matters was the fact that her hips were aching. No, aching didn’t cut it. With each step she took, it felt like someone was stabbing her in the right hip flexor. She figured it was from lifting her short legs so high to clear the snow. She’d compensated by relying heavily on her left leg, but now that hip flexor was starting to hurt too. She was in bad shape, and she knew she wasn’t going to make it out. Already
, the slope to her right was cast into darkness. She could still see because the sun hadn’t set on her side of the mountain, but it wouldn’t be long now. She wanted to cry out her frustration, but what good would that do? Leaning dejectedly against a tree wasn’t going to help either. She needed to decide whether to keep going, try to find her way back to the cabin, or hunker down and try to assemble some form of shelter for the night.
A noise jerked her attention around, and her eyes locked on RedKnife. Relief swamped her, and she couldn’t stop the whimper that left her lips. Still, she clung to the tree.
When RedKnife spoke, his voice was surprisingly gentle, absent of any reproach. “It’ll be dark soon.”
Cindy merely nodded.
RedKnife eyed the sky. “Getting colder too.”
Cindy was about to nod again when a noise in the distance stopped her. Her eyes cut to RedKnife, and she could see in his face that he’d heard it too. Her mind shuffled rapidly, trying to place the sound that was so out of place in their current setting. It wasn’t an animal, not a tree falling, not a frozen creek struggling to survive the cold. No. It was the sound of…a vehicle! She was close to a road! Well, not close, really, as the sound was pretty distant, but she was certain she could make it.
RedKnife’s eyes flashed, and she knew the second he realized that the sound had registered with her. He lifted a hand and pointed a finger over her shoulder. “Road’s that way. If you think you can make it… go.”
Balling her shaking hands into tight fists, she pushed off the tree with a renewed determination. She stepped away from RedKnife, and her soul screamed ‘NOOOO!’
I can do this! She tried to convince herself. I can make it! A few steps in, she was clenching her jaw to keep from crying out at the pain in her hips. The small break hadn’t helped either. Instead, it seemed in the few short minutes that she’d rested against the tree, her muscles had atrophied. She had nothing left in the tank, and she was weak as a damn kitten.
Stopping at the nearest tree, she fell into it, bumping her shoulder hard as she let it take her full weight. Exhaustion tugged at her and her belly tightened, no longer growling its demand for nourishment and water. She could practically feel her body feeding off itself, though that was ridiculous as it had only been a day. One long, miserable, arctic, exhausting day.
Her head fell forward, eyes closed, her forehead pressing against the tree. When she lifted her head and opened her eyes, she found she was lower. Her legs had given out, and she was squatting in the snow, her hips still throbbing an incessant whine at her idiocy. Behind her, RedKnife asked gently, “Gonna make it?”
Hell no! But she didn’t want to admit it. She didn’t want to admit defeat, but it was an absolute. Even if the road were ten feet from her, she had nothing left. Her eyelids drooped, and she couldn’t believe that her body was actually trying to literally shut down. Why wouldn’t it listen to her logic? She couldn’t rest here. Rest meant vulnerability, and vulnerability in Montana’s harsh mountains meant death. Still, she struggled to open her eyes.
“Cindy?”
She licked her chapped lips and went straight for the heart of the matter. She was shocked to hear the quiver in her voice when she begged, “D-don’t let him kill me.”
She was pulled away from the tree and blessedly warm arms enveloped her, pulling her into the impossible breadth of RedKnife’s chest. His frame shielded some of the wind, and his embrace felt so safe that her body went lax as if to say, ‘Okay, we’re good people. Let’s shut it down.’
With the last of her strength, Cindy fisted a gloved hand into RedKnife’s jacket. She wanted to snort at the absurdity of it. Here she was, freezing to death in a pile of clothes and he was traipsing the mountain in jeans and a thin jacket.
“No one is going to kill you, Cindy. No one is going to touch you.”
She couldn’t help but lift pleading eyes. “Swear it.” She had no right to ask, but she was about to trust him to ensure she survived the night on the frozen mountainside. And, if Monroe wanted her dead, how easy it would be for RedKnife to simply walk away right now and let her freeze to death by falling into the peaceful slumber that was no longer tugging at her, but jerking full force.
Full black eyes narrowed on hers, and angry brows speared down seconds before RedKnife finally spoke. “I vow to you, on my honor as a Walker…as the Skin Walker, that no man, no beast, and no act of nature will bring harm to you while I still draw breath.”
She wanted to thank him. She wanted to ask him how they were going to get back to the cabin. She wanted a lot of things, but what she got was darkness as her eyelids fell and exhaustion consumed her.
***
Cindy woke sweating profusely. It was hot. Too damn hot! She didn’t know where she was, and as she lay in the darkness, she struggled to recall the previous night. Her trek through the bitterly cold mountains came back in a flash, and her heart thundered to life. Where am I? She was lying on something soft, warm and alive, so that counted for something. Her hand snaked out, to be met by emptiness. As it was too dark to see, she lifted her hand higher and felt above her. Nothing. Slowly, she sat up, moaning at the pain it caused. Her hand dropped to her right hip, trying to massage the pain away, but stilled when she realized she wasn’t wearing pants. Her hand met bare skin and she quickly moved the hand higher, relieved to feel her panties still in place. Both hands skimmed her arms and chest. No coat, no flannel shirt, no bra. All she felt was what seemed to be a soft T-shirt.
Light suddenly filtered through the dark, and she was shocked to discover she was back at the cabin, back in her room.
RedKnife entered and dropped onto the edge of the bed, pushing her back into the pillows and placing a cool cloth on her forehead, smoothing it down her cheek to her neck. It felt wonderful.
“RedKnife? How did we get back here?”
“I carried you.”
Her voice was laced with disbelief. “Carried me? It was….miles!”
“Shhhh,” he crooned.
But she didn’t want to shush, she had too many questions. The first of which was why it was so damn hot. “I’m…,” she licked her lips and swallowed, taking stock for the first time. Yes, she was warm. Well, hot actually, but she was also achy and sore. Her head was pounding, and her belly was back to rumbling, but she had no desire to eat.
“Here.” RedKnife lifted a glass from the bedside table to her lips. “Drink.” He held the glass for her while she did as he asked.
The cool liquid felt good, and she drank deeply before pushing his hand away to ask, “Why is it so hot?” She went to shove the blankets off her legs, but RedKnife stopped her.
“You’re sick.”
Sick? The pounding head, achy muscles, and hunger with no desire to eat finally made sense. But still… “Can you open a window?”
“You have a fever, Cindy. You hiked too far and got sweaty, then you’d stop and rest. You couldn’t feel it because you were overworked, but it was too cold for your body to be coated in moisture out there. Your clothes were soaked.” He turned and eyed her room. “It’s actually still pretty chilly in here.” He replaced the glass on her side table and stood. “I’m going to stoke the fire, then you’re going to eat something.”
She didn’t hear anything after ‘Your clothes were soaked.’ She wanted to ask where her clothes were, but didn’t want to draw attention to the fact that she knew he’d undressed her.
When he turned to grab a pile of logs she tensed. Fire? Is he out of his mind? “Please no more fire.”
Ignoring her, he bent to the hearth and began loading logs onto the low flames that already kindled in the hearth. “It’s not the room that’s hot. It’s you.”
She lifted a hand to her forehead and wasn’t surprised that it came back moist. She was sweating. “Shouldn’t you be trying to cool me down?”
He chuffed a laugh. “It’s thirty below outside, and while I’ve got the heaters running full blast, I’d still say it’s only high sixties in t
his room. It’s cold. Trust me.”
Trust me. The words pulled her back to the mountain, just before she’d passed out. RedKnife’s vow. He’d sworn to keep her safe, and he had. For that alone she had to trust him. But, honestly? That wasn’t why she did. He was a good man. He’d been nothing but forthright and attentive since he’d kidnapped her… Listen to yourself! She scolded herself. He’s been good to you since he kidnapped you? She shook her head. Okay, she was ill and she was coming down with Stockholm syndrome. Great!
RedKnife got the fire roaring and then disappeared from the room. He returned shortly with a tray that held a steaming bowl of something and a large glass of orange juice. Neither item snagged Cindy’s attention like the bottle of ibuprofen. She needed some relief from the damn headache that plagued her.
RedKnife settled the tray over her lap and was lifting the bowl when she asked. “Ibuprofen first? Please.”
He grabbed the bottle and dumped a handful into his palm. “How many should you take?”
“I have a headache,” she responded, eyeing him expectantly. Instead of dumping most of the pills back into the bottle, he stared at her. “Umm, two.”
As he cupped his hand to drop most of the pills back into the mouth of the container, Cindy asked. “You don’t take ibuprofen?”
“I don’t need to.”
Delicate brows hiked as she accepted the two pills. “What? You’ve never had a headache?”
She was drinking juice from the glass he held to her lips when he responded. “No. Skin Walkers are immune to illness. I’ve never had a headache or been ill a day in my life.”
She was shocked, and had to force his hand to pull the juice from her lips. “Really? What about injuries? I know you get hurt. No one is immune to cuts, or bruises.”
“We heal quickly.”
“Wow!” Was all she could say. Thinking on it though, it made sense. He seemed too worried about her fever, which compelled her to speak. “It’s just a fever, RedKnife. It should break soon.”