He had swallowed enough smoke to make him dizzy and had fallen off Dakota twice. The second time, Anne slid off with him, and he knew he couldn’t get her back on. He had cracked three ribs. “But I didn’t even feel it then. I just knew we had to head for cover.”
He had taken the saddles and bridles off the horses, turned them loose, and dragged Anne down the slope into the shallow cave. “I figured if the fire hit us we were goners. If not, someone would be along sooner or later to get us out of there.”
Kara felt tears well up in her eyes. She turned away and tossed the empty paper cup in the trash can. Every time she thought about how close Colin and Anne had come to death, she lost it. She had come to realize just how much they both meant to her—Colin maybe more than she wanted to admit.
Greg and Ryan pushed past her on their way out the door. “See ya at home.”
Bud Davis slapped his hat on his head and shook Dad’s hand. “I think I’ll head on out too, Harley. You just let me know if there’s anything more I can do.”
Kara caught the look the men exchanged and realized her suspicions had been right. Mr. Davis had been shepherding Greg.
Dad’s words confirmed her thoughts. “I can’t thank you enough, Bud. Lord willing, we won’t be needing you for a while.”
Mr. Davis squeezed her shoulder as he left. “You have a fine family here, Wakara. You take care now.”
Dad was helping Colin to his feet. “Okay, okay, I’m ready,” Colin was saying.
He grinned at Kara, then straightened and looked at her dad, his face more serious than she had ever seen it.
“I’ve got exactly two weeks to get well. The youth group at church is busing it to Bend for the football game. Thought I’d tag along and keep Wakara company,” he said quietly. “If that’s okay with you.”
TIA SQUEALED. “JUST LIKE THAT?”
“Shh!” Kara nodded, laughing. “Yeah. Colin said it just like that. You should have seen the look on Dad’s face. I thought he was going to say no. Then he smiles and says, ‘Well, son, it’s fine with me, but you’d better clear it with the boss.’
“At first I thought he meant Anne, but he was looking right at me. I was so embarrassed I could have died.”
“Whoo,” Tia shouted, “I am totally impressed. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me before!”
“When? Between Colin and Anne, we’ve been at the hospital every day, then I had to get Ryan ready to start school. I haven’t seen you long enough to say hi, let alone tell you about a football game.”
Tia threw her an exasperated look. “Whatever.” She whirled around and walked backwards. “Whooee, wait ’til Amber and Heather find out.”
Kara snagged an apple from the tree at the end of the driveway and snapped the stem off with her teeth. “Find out what? It’s not like we’re going on a real date. Besides, Mr. and Mrs. Andrews will be along.”
Tia groaned and picked an apple for herself. “Mr. and Mrs. Eagle Eye.”
Kara laughed. “It’s okay. Colin won’t be able to do much more than sit and cheer. His ribs are still taped.”
It was only the second week in September, but already the weather had changed. The trees were turning color and Kara’s boots crunched over a few red-amber leaves scattered across the gravel road from the bus stop to the ranch.
“Look.” She pointed to a trail of smoke that spiraled upward from the chimney. “Anne must be here. Dad sent Colin after her this morning before he took off for the lodge.”
After her short stay in the hospital, Dad announced Anne was coming to the ranch to stay.
“We need her, Sugar Bear. This way you can concentrate on school, and Ryan can have someone here when he gets home.”
Kara had to admit she was glad. It would be nice to not always have to be the one in charge.
Dad and Greg had been back and forth from Lariat to Eagle Lodge several times since the fire. Dad had said this morning that they were almost finished with the repairs. Well, except for the barn, which, according to Colin, would take a six-man crew and a hunk of money to restore. Dad wasn’t sure it was worth it.
Kara stopped to take off her boots, and Tia beat her to the kitchen. Anne was sitting at the white oak table peeling apples. Her bare toes were sticking out of the walking cast she had propped on a chair.
Tia’s eyes lit up. “Pie?”
“Applesauce. Wash your hands, please. First cocoa, then you help.”
Kara washed, then went to the stove and poured the hot chocolate into heavy ceramic mugs. She set a cup in front of Anne. “Are you sure you should be doing this? Tia and I could handle it.”
“I am fine. It is time I go back to work.”
It was strange to see Anne in their kitchen using Mom’s best paring knife. A month ago Kara would have resented it, accused her of trying to take Mom’s place.
Tia was digging through a cardboard box on the other end of the table. “Hey, looks like your dad brought back some of your stuff.”
Anne nodded. “He brought Ryan’s things too. You will need to clean them. Everything will do except some of the clothes.”
Kara groaned. Anne was right. Her denim skirt and white silk blouse looked like they’d been rolled in the fireplace.
Tia held up a red cotton shirt and a pair of cutoffs. “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with these.” She grinned and wrinkled her nose, “If you don’t mind smelling like Smokey the Bear.”
They sorted the clothes into piles—one for the trash bin and one for the washing machine. Then Kara lifted two chunks of newspaper from the bottom of the box.
She unwrapped the smallest first. Her mother’s face smiled at her out of the tarnished silver frame. Tia turned away, and Anne’s head bent over the growing pile of apple skins.
Oh, Mom, I miss you so much. We’ve had a pretty rough year. She grabbed a cloth from the linen drawer and dug some silver polish out of the cleaning closet.
Tia opened the other package. “Hey, cool. Your great-grandfather’s drawing. It’s fine, see? Not even a smudge.” She looked from the portrait to Kara, then Anne. “I don’t know. If your great-grandmother was Nez Perce, she sure doesn’t look like Anne. Neither do you. Maybe she was from the Yana people.”
Kara took the picture and set it on the counter next to her mother’s. She tried to imagine her ancestor with short, curly hair and green-blue eyes. Impossible.
“Does it still bother you?” Anne’s quiet question startled her.
“I don’t think so. At least not as much. But I’d still like to find out for sure someday.”
To tell the truth, she hadn’t thought about it since before the fire. Was the first Wakara Nez Perce like Great-grandfather had thought, or Yana, which would explain her name? Somehow it didn’t matter as much as it used to.
“She’s the same person either way. And so am I. But I’m still going to read your father’s book. I’d really like to know more about the Yana people.”
Anne only nodded, but Wakara was sure she saw a gleam of approval behind her smile.
Linda Shands is a prolific writer of magazine articles and the author of four adult novels and one nonfiction book. She loves the Oregon wilderness and lives in the small town of Cottage Grove with her husband, a cat, two horses, and twin golden retrievers.
Wild Fire Page 14