Bebe

by Phelps, Darla

  Ben stopped. She could feel him trembling at her back, and yet he went no further.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, and his hand withdrew from her and from between her legs. The absence of his touch left behind a waking ache, but he only pulled her coat closed again anyway. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. It’s okay. Go to sleep.”

  Raw need, low and throbbing, pulsed deep inside her. She opened her eyes, staring glazed and confused into the fire. Greg still had his back to them. So did Matt now as well. She found Will staring at her though. His hot and hungry eyes held her every bit as pinned as Ben’s arm around her waist. In the dim glow of the banked fire, she could see the front of his blanket moving slightly, as if he were rubbing his stomach, short, shallow up and down motions.

  “Close your eyes,” Ben told her, caressing her hair back from her face. She could smell herself on his fingers. “I promise, nobody’s going to force you. Not even me. Close your eyes.”

  So Bebe did. She shut out the cave, the fire and Will’s hungry stare. The restless wanting inside her refusing to be ignored as easily.

  “Go to sleep,” Ben whispered, laying one last caressing kiss to the nape of her neck before he settled himself to simply hold her.

  Eventually, she did.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The Sickness Returns

  The hide across the entrance of the cave didn’t entirely block the dawning daylight, but it did keep the cavern washed in shadow dark enough for Bebe to oversleep. It took Ben’s hand on her shoulder gently shaking her awake before her eyelids fluttered open.

  “Good morning, beautiful,” he said and smiled at her. “We’ve got a long and busy day ahead of us. Best get to it.”

  Groaning, already exhausted, Bebe closed her eyes again and tried to go back to sleep. Ben continued to shake her shoulder until, finally, reluctantly, she shrugged his hand away and rolled into a sitting position.

  She felt awful: a little nauseated, a little sweaty, stiff and sore all the way into her joints. Both feet were swollen and throbbed horribly, and that was before she put any weight on them. Ignoring Ben’s open hand, she crawled to the nearest wall and gripped the rocks. It took three attempts before she could heave herself upright, and the instant she managed it, the pressure of standing very quickly became a crippling agony.

  “You okay?” Ben asked, his half-amused smile fading somewhat as she limped a few steps along the cave wall.

  Bebe nodded.

  He didn’t look like he believed her, but he didn’t press the issue either. “Would you like to visit our spacious, five-star luxury bathroom?”

  Leaning heavily against the rocks, she took another limping step towards the hide-covered door. Sighing, not feeling very well at all, Bebe nodded again.

  “Want me to carry you?”

  Every step was pure torture, sending shocks of burning pain radiating up through the soles of her feet and into the muscles and bones of her legs. To be carried would have been a blessing, and yet Bebe shook her head and struggled toward the rock entrance on her own.

  “We’ll change those bandages when we get back then,” Ben said, motioning to Matt.

  “I can take her,” Will said, and stood up from where he’d been warming his hands by the fire.

  “You can get breakfast started,” the old man told him. Collecting two spears from the pile leaning against the rocks by the entry, Matt handed one to Ben as he walked past them. He glanced at Bebe, and then at her feet, only to avert his attention to whatever he could see once he peeled the hide back from the wall and looked outside.

  “Looks clear,” Matt grunted as Ben hunkered down next to him to peek out the other side. “Wolves helped themselves to dinner, though. We should have buried it when we had the chance. We’ll need to hunt again.”

  “We can worry about it once we’re moved. Right now, all I want to do is get out of here before that big fucker chews himself free.” Ben patted his shoulder, then glanced back over his shoulder at Bebe. “Stay with me, honey.”

  Bebe hobbled slowly towards him, her legs already shaking. She hoped the bathroom wasn’t far.

  The humans’ cave was embedded in the hillside in the basin of a shallow valley. Ben and Matt ventured outside first, their dark eyes constantly scanning beyond the sparse curtain of trees to the far snow- and rock-covered ridges that surrounded them on all sides. When he was satisfied that they were alone, Ben reached back through the hide and motioned for Bebe to follow.

  “No sense taking her all the way out to the pits,” Matt said, as Bebe, step after painful step, joined them. “Won’t hurt anything if she pees right here since we’re not staying.”

  “That’s what I was thinking, too,” Ben agreed, glancing back over his shoulder once to make sure neither Will or Greg were watching them from behind the flap. “I just want to get far enough to avoid any prying eyes.”

  They circled around the side of the cave, following the curving hillside until Ben felt sure they would not be spied upon. Ducking to see through the trees, with one last sweeping glance up at the surrounding ridges of eroded rock, he then spread his arms and gestured with his spear at the few trees and nearly leaf-barren bushes close by.

  “Pick your stall, honey,” he told her. “The plumbing’s for shit, but the view’s damn near unbeatable.”

  Bebe spent nearly a full minute silently regretting that she’d ever thought anything ill of Tral’s tiny bathroom back at the station house. Shoulders sagging, she hobbled to the nearest tree. It provided more substantial support as she struggled to squat low enough to avoid urinating on her clothes, but not so low that she dipped her fanny in the ice and snow. It also provided a shield between herself and the two humans. Now and then, as she went about the business of undressing, relieving, and re-dressing herself, she stole suspicious glimpses around the trunk at them. While she never found them actually, deliberately staring at her, their eyes were never still. They scanned the landscape continuously.

  After that, it was meat again for breakfast before the men broke camp. With militant precision, Matt organized the younger men to pack everything that might immediately be needed once they reached their new wintering den, and those items were rolled into bundles to be carried via rope straps upon their backs. The largest and strongest among them, Ben heaved the wolf-ravaged remains of their previous kill onto his shoulders. The only thing Bebe was expected to carry was herself.

  “Think you can manage?” Ben asked. “It’s at least four miles between here and the southern ridge.”

  Though weary and growing more so by the minute, Bebe nodded. She had no idea how far a mile was, but four didn’t sound like so very many.

  “I can carry her,” Will offered helpfully. He came to stand with them at the mouth of the cave, and Bebe turned a dubious eye from all that snow, crusted across the top with a thin layer of sun-sparkling ice. In particular, she stared at his narrow shoulders and somewhat still boyishly immature frame.

  Will flexed one arm, a gesture difficult to see considering the thickness of his fur coat. “I’m stronger than I look. Feel. Come on,” he cajoled when she hesitated. “Put your hand on my arm and feel.”

  Hot, hurt and tired, Bebe reluctantly placed her hand upon his forearm.

  “No, up here,” he said, gesturing above his elbow.

  She moved her hand to where he indicated, feeling the slight pulsing bulge of muscle as he flexed again.

  “See that?” he asked her, and grinned. “That’s solid rock, baby. Know what else is solid rock?” He waggled his eyebrows at her and then did a funny rapid-flicking thing with the tip of his tongue, startling Bebe so much that she not only released him, but stumbled back a step and almost fell into Ben.

  Ben quickly caught her, his large hand planting itself on the small of her back to arrest her fall. “Start walking,” he told Will, not in the slightest bit impressed.

  The younger man obediently headed outside, grinning back at her over one furry shoulder.
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br />   “Stay close to me or Matt,” Ben told her. “We’ll help you as much as we can.”

  Wilting just a bit, Bebe stared out across that impossible sea of white, wondering if Tral had worked his way free of the ropes yet. Was he looking for her? More importantly, was he still angry? Probably. She’d still be angry, if she was him. She’d probably be so mad that she’d not want anything more to do with a troublemaker like herself.

  The whiteness began to blur as her eyes filled up with tears. She swiped at them with the back of one hand, wishing she knew the way back to the station. For that matter, she wished she had the strength to get there on her own. And she really wished that she’d never opened the door for Ben in the first place.

  But she had opened it, and these were the consequences.

  Bowing her head, she took that first painful step and slipped in the snow, very nearly falling flat on her butt. Both Ben and Matt caught opposite arms, heaving her promptly upright again. She hadn’t even realized the old man was behind her. She hadn’t realized she was crying now, either.

  Matt snorted, shaking his head as he looked at her. She knew that look, that tightening around his mouth and grim staring eyes. She was being a burden again. Bowing her head, Bebe swallowed her misery and pain and made herself start walking.

  But it never got any easier. There were things in the snow, buried sticks and vines that tried to trip her, jagged rocks that jabbed through her boots and bandages and into the bottoms of her aching feet. She quickly came to hate the snow. It was wet, it was cold, and it was evil. And they had to walk in it for what felt like forever. Just trudging up that first hill to get out of the valley was both morally and physically exhausting. Before Bebe reached the top, her sweat soaked the interior of Tral’s coat and she was breathing heavily. The cold of every gasp hurt her throat and lungs. They hadn’t even put the old cave completely behind them before she collapsed to kneel in the snow and rest.

  “Come on,” Ben encouraged her. “We’ve got a ways to go yet before we can do that.”

  “Hell, we only just got started,” Will scoffed from a little ahead of them, but she noticed he was breathing heavily too. Of course, he was lugging two fur rolls of supplies, several spears and a bulky hide satchel that looked to be quite heavy.

  This time when Ben offered her a hand, she took it and he pulled her back onto her feet. She didn’t want to cause them any more trouble than she already had. She’d caused too much for Ma’am and Sir, and then again for Tral, and look what happened. Although Ben was walking slower than the others in an effort to keep pace with her limping steps, already she was falling behind him. It hurt so much, but she tried to hurry and catch up. If she was too much trouble for the humans, they might leave her behind, and although she never wanted to be with them in the first place, she was frightened of being left alone. Where would she go then? She couldn’t start a fire or kill her own strange-tasting meat. She was utterly useless.

  Walking through a blinding veil of tears, she tripped over a snow-hidden length of stick. This time she went down face-first, landing in a big, soft, wet splat on her belly and sinking in up to her waist. She got snow in the sleeves of Tral’s coat, in the tops of her boots and in the waist of her trousers before she finally managed to struggle back onto her throbbing feet. Within steps, however, she fell again, and Ben ended up dropping that carcass of meat into the snow to come back and get her.

  “It’s okay,” he said, pausing to wipe the stinging tears from her cold face before offering her his broad back. “Come on. Alley-oop.”

  This time, Bebe didn’t bother refusing. Grateful for the chance to rest, she wrapped her arms around his neck and let him hoist her up piggyback-style. Strong as he was, by the time they reached the low ground opening that was to be their new winter home, Ben was puffing and panting every bit as hard as she had been.

  It wasn’t even a real cave, just an opening in the rock not much larger than Tral’s station house. She had to get down on her knees in the snow and crawl through the small opening. Roots poked through cracks in the rock and dangled like hair from a ceiling that was only mere feet above her head. At least it was dry, although it was still every bit as cold as it had been outside. Bebe hugged herself, shivering as she looked around. It was breezy, too. Or maybe that was just her imagination, tricking her into thinking she could still feel the gentle brush of the outside wind. She was so tired now, and she hurt so much. She found an out of the way corner and collapsed into it, wet inside her clothes and shaking.

  Ben scouted back into the meager depths of the smaller cave. Using his spear, he jabbed twice at the ceiling and was rewarded by a slight shower of snow and a thin beam of daylight. Brushing snow from his face, he peered up at it a moment. “Perfect,” he said, and came back to the front. “Let’s get a fire started.”

  Greg remained with her long after the others dropped their burdens against one wall and then began the long, laborious trek back through the icy snow to fetch the remainder of their supplies. Even Ben abandoned her, returning to the meat he’d left behind.

  “I’m trusting you,” he told Greg before he left. “Don’t make me regret it.”

  “I won’t,” Greg promised, and he took that promise seriously. He barely looked at her and yet at the same time seemed so intensely aware of her presence as he moved through the new cave, picking up stray rocks and hacking at any roots long enough to be a nuisance. Huddled in a corner, Bebe did her best to stay out of his way while he worked around her. Wet inside her clothes and miserable, she watched him build a ring of stones and then use sparks from their previous fire, carried here in a careful wrap of coals and hollow bone, to build a new one.

  “You’ll warm up in a minute,” he promised, sneaking quick glances at her from out beneath the shaggy brown shield of his bangs. He didn’t say anything more, he simply busied himself rummaging from bundle to sack, pulling out weapons and stacking them near the entryway, tacking the old hide up across the new entryway to help keep out the wind, and unrolling beds anywhere the ground was flat enough to hazard sleeping upon.

  Eventually, Ben returned with the half-gnawed meat carcass. “We need to get this stored or the wolves are going to get what’s left. Find a good place and start digging.”

  “The ground’s hard as stone!” Greg protested.

  “Needs to be done or we could all go hungry,” Ben said unsympathetically. “Get digging.”

  Swearing first, Greg then sighed. Running a hand through his hair, he looked at her first and then dutifully headed outside, leaving Bebe and Ben alone.

  “How’s the feet?” Ben came towards her slowly. He stretched his back, trying to rub a kink from his shoulders before lowering himself to one knee in front of her.

  Bound within her boots, she could barely wiggle her toes, they hurt so much and burned like fire. “Fine,” she lied.

  “Sure they are.” He motioned her to extend her legs. “You’re wet. You must have got half the snow in the valley trapped in your leggings with you. You should have said something.”

  Concern about wet clothes, however, took an instant back seat to the bloody condition of the bandages as he untied and removed each boot in turn. A foul smell permeated the air. Without a word, he unwrapped her wounds, and the look on his face turned grim as the blood and pus-encrusted layer of hide finally came away and he saw the full extent of the damage.

  It all felt so much better now that nothing touched her feet. The pressure eased, and so did the throbbing. The cooler air caressed her hot skin, diminishing the pain until it was hardly more than a faint ache. “Fine,” Bebe said, closing her eyes in relief.

  That relief did not last long.

  Ben set a bowl of snow into the fire to melt and then washed her feet as best he could, but everywhere he touched hurt first in searing white-hot flashes, and then burned molten and unrelentingly deep inside her flesh. The ache consumed her, pulsing up through her legs and hips until she could feel it throbbing all the way into her guts.
In every part of her. In the backs of her teeth. Even in the roots of her hair.

  Throwing out the first bowl of foul wash water, Ben melted more snow and washed her feet again.

  Groaning and hissing in pain, she grabbed at her own legs just to keep from slapping his hands. It was a relief when the torment finally ended and at last he re-wrapped her feet in clean hide strips. He removed her wet clothes, all except for Tral’s coat which she refused to let him take, and hung them on spears near the fire to dry.

  “Try and rest.” Ben said as he wrapped her in a warm blanket. He gave her leg a gentle pat, but there was a worried look on his face when he turned to throw the bloody bandages on the fire.

  Small as the new cave was, that one small fire was more than sufficient to heat even the far back corners. Before Matt and Will had returned from their second trip, Bebe had warmed to the point of discomfort. Shoving the blanket aside, she unfastened Tral’s coat to peel the damp halves apart in an effort to cool herself. And when still she continued to sweat, eventually she took it off completely, leaving it as a shield between her bare back and the rough earthen cave wall.

  Busy unpacking, Ben didn’t notice, but Will did. A short few minutes later, he crawled through the entry flap, pushing two sacks ahead of him and pulling in another from behind. He froze when he saw her.

  “Holy shit,” he said, low and marveling as he stared at her breasts.

  “Move your ass,” Matt grumbled from behind him.