Wolf Dance

by Wolfdance(Lit)

  As suddenly as he had started, he stopped, backing away from her. "I can’t, Laura," he whispered in a hoarse voice. Laura’s eyes once again filled with pain and confusion. She turned away from him to straighten her clothing. Searching the ground until she found the flashlight, she switched it on and began walking toward the road.

  A moment later she heard him follow her, but she said nothing to acknowledge his presence. It seemed an eternity before they reached the road.

  His voice stopped her before she could get into her car. "Laura ... I’m sorry. I should never have touched you, not this time nor ever," he continued in a soft, pleading voice.

  "I find it impossible to resist you, but there are reasons why we can never be together that way." He grasped her arm and turned her to face him.

  "I’m sure you have your reasons and I’m just as sure I’ll survive." Her words were cold in an attempt to hide the hurt that threatened to tear out her heart.

  "Try and understand, it’s not that I don’t want you," he pleaded.

  She just nodded.

  Justin continued to hold her arm, his grip tightening. He stared at her until she thought for sure she would once again lose herself in the depths of desire that stirred within his eyes.

  "You should never be in the woods at night. It's very dangerous," he warned.

  Laura waited to see if he would provide further explanation, but none was forthcoming.

  "Would you like me to follow you home?" he asked.

  It was not until then that she took notice of his bike behind her car. "No, that won’t be necessary, but I'd like to know your last name." Laura intended to discover what his mystery was.

  He smiled, taking her small hand in his. "Gray Eagle."

  "Well, goodbye, Justin Gray Eagle." She pulled her hand from his grasp.

  "Goodbye, tehila." He brought a hand up to brush the hair away from her face.

  Laura left as quickly as she could, hoping he had not known the full extent of his affect on her. Her eyes filled with angry tears and her heart with bitter pain. Never had rejection cut quite so deeply.

  Chapter Five

  A sharp pounding pierced through Laura’s unconscious mind, waking her from the hazy dream. But the mist was too inviting ... pulling her under, seducing her with its numbing peace. Again the insistent pounding broke though, yanking her back to consciousness.

  Leaving the warmth of her bed was nothing short of torture. The lack of sufficient heat magnified the morning chill. Still half-asleep, Laura wrapped up in her robe and stumbled to the front door.

  Sheriff Moss had just raised his hand to knock again when Laura opened the door. "Ma’am," Paul greeted her with a smile.

  "Hello, Sheriff." Laura made a feeble attempt to return his smile, but her still sleeping body refused to respond.

  "May I come in?" His blue eyes danced with good-natured humor.

  "Yes, of course." Laura blushed. Embarrassed by her own lack of manners, she stepped aside to allow him entrance.

  Laura led him toward the kitchen. "Would you like a cup of coffee, Sheriff?" she asked while in the process of putting a pot on to cook.

  "Yes, that sounds great. And by the way, my name is Paul," he told her as he was taking a seat at the kitchen table.

  "Well, Sheriff Paul...." she had turned away from the stove to face him. "You’re out and about early this morning." A smile touched her lips.

  He caught on to the fact that she wasn’t real thrilled about being woken up at eight o’clock on a Saturday morning. "Sorry about waking you, Miss Ellison, but this is the first free moment I’ve had in the last couple of days. Figured I'd better get out here and get this taken care of before something else comes up."

  "That’s fine, as long as something is being done." Laura rubbed at her tired eyes. "If you’ll excuse me a moment, I need to dress."

  "No problem, and I am sorry."

  Laura dressed quickly in a white sun dress and then ran a brush through her hair. When she was finished, she reached under her bed and pulled out the mangled briefcase. Returning to the kitchen, Laura placed it on the table in front of the sheriff.

  His eyes traveled from her to the object in front of him, and without comment he picked it up to examine it. After a few moments he looked up at her.

  "Where did you say you found this?" he asked.

  "About halfway between here and Beaver Creek, in the woods."

  "And how did you happen to be out there to find it?"

  Laura explained how it had happened. When she finished she noticed that he was eyeing her skeptically.

  After a moment he smiled. "I don’t think this is anything significant. It was torn up by an animal, that’s clear enough."

  Laura wrinkled her forehead. "Are you sure?"

  "Yeah, too messy to be anything else."

  "What about all his clothes?" Laura persisted.

  "Where are they?" he questioned.

  "Next to the couch ... in the living room. I boxed them up so that I could have room for my own clothes." She was pointing toward the other room.

  "Mind if I take a look ... while you are pouring us some of that coffee?"

  "Okay." Laura took two cups from the cupboard and filled them with the steaming brown liquid. She placed the cups on the table and waited for his return.

  Before long he came back into the kitchen wearing a baffled expression. After taking a small drink of his coffee, he told her, "I’ll have to agree with you about Mitchell, there does seem to be something wrong there."

  Laura smiled. "What’s changed your mind, Sheriff?"

  "I shouldn’t really confide any of the details of our investigation, but I can tell you this much. Not even his family in New Mexico has heard from him since his disappearance."

  "We already knew that much--that’s one of the reasons I was sent here in the first place," she informed him.

  "From here on out, it’s strictly police business. You’d be better off to stay out of it. Safer too--just in case there is foul play involved." His tone of voice was like that of a parent lecturing a child.

  "In that case, I wish you luck with your investigation, Sheriff." Laura’s smile was strained. His arrogance grated on her nerves. And of course she had no intention of staying out of the investigation.

  Paul finished the last of his coffee and then stood to leave. "Well, thank you very much, Miss Ellison. I'm sure things will turn out just fine."

  "Yes, I'm sure they will." She was not so much agreeing with him, as trying to convince herself.

  "In the living room." He pointed toward the box. "I will have to take that with me."

  "It’s all yours." She smiled.

  After he picked up the box, Laura opened the door for him. On the porch he stopped and turned around. "Another thing, Miss Ellison. The Wildlife people said that they have had other reports, so do be careful."

  "Yes, I will ... thank you."

  Standing at the door, she watched him leave. Though the man could be quite irritating at times, Laura realized that she had been glad for the company.

  Back in the kitchen, she poured herself another cup of coffee and took it out on the porch. It was such a beautiful morning and she didn't want to waste it inside with the gloominess of the cabin.

  The sun penetrated the shimmering leaves of the tall aspens, bathing the purple and red wildflowers in golden light. A hummingbird flew past, missing her head by mere inches. Laura sighed, reclining on one of the two chairs that sat on the cabin’s porch. She had to wonder how a place of such beauty could feel so desolate and lonely.

  Laura smiled to herself, realizing that she was still feeling bad because of the events of last night. Thinking of Justin brought the scene clearly into focus and with it bittersweet pain. Laura shook her head. She was feeling the fool. Every time she found herself in his arms, she let herself turn to soft putty.

  She was not a woman of the world, but she did have some idea about how it all worked. Kenny had been her first, and she his. To
gether they had experienced the pleasures of the flesh. Their love had been a sweet, innocent love--a memory to always treasure.

  So why had she reacted so violently to his touch? It was so different from Kenny, so intense. She could still see the smoldering passion in his eyes. She felt her body responding to just the memory of his touch.

  Laura closed her eyes, attempting to bring her feelings under control. It was lust, that’s all, she tried to reassure herself. The one thing she was certain of--she wouldn't let herself come under Justin Gray Eagle’s spell again. Laura could only hope that there wouldn't be a situation where her new resolve would be tested.

  Draining the last of her coffee, it dawned on her that she had been sitting out here for nearly an hour and still had no idea of what to do with her time today. She finally decided that she would take a look at the logging camp and maybe do some exploring. Laura went inside to pack a picnic, thinking it would be nice to stop somewhere for lunch.

  Laura made up her mind to start in Brantic City. Exploring on foot gave her a chance to get a closer look at some of the interesting old buildings. Laura started down the road on foot, but before long the road ended at a cemetery. Curiosity drew her through the wrought-iron gates. She noted the overgrown weeds and thought of how sad it was that no caretaker kept the place nice for those who had passed on. Many of the headstones were weather beaten and in different stages of decay.

  Laura stepped carefully through the thick weeds, trying to read as many of the headstones as she could. For some reason, an odd sense of discomfort settled over her.

  Abruptly, she was hit with the certainty that she was being watched. A shiver traveled up her spine. This was all it took to persuade Laura that the time had definitely come to leave.

  While walking back to her car, Laura tried to pinpoint what exactly it had been about the graves that had iced her nerves. It was not until she had gotten in and started the engine that it hit her. The dates on the headstones, most of them had died so young.

  She thought about it for a moment, then smiled when another realization came to her. Dying young was not so unusual in the old west. It could have been small pox, Indians, any number of things. Laura laughed. She had spooked herself again with her overactive imagination.

  Laura made a u-turn and headed north. Just before coming to the saloon she spotted a sign pointing north in the direction of the Sweet Water Mine. Taking the road, she was determined to find out as much as she could about the area. The road began a sharp incline, but she soon came to a turn-off that led to the mine.

  From the car, she could make out an array of mining equipment scattered through the gulch. Deciding to walk the steep road which led to the mine, Laura’s eyes searched the gulch. There seemed to be no one in sight. Though it appeared to be a working mine, it was completely deserted.

  "Hello! Anyone here?" she called out.

  Nothing ... The only answer she received was the eerie sound of the wind.

  Nearing the mine’s entrance, she again called into the darkness. "Is anyone here?" Her voice echoed through the endless tunnels.

  A voice boomed from behind her. "Hey there, little gal. Don’t you know you’re trespassing?"

  His yelling caught her off guard, startling her. Laura cut short a scream when she recognized who it was. The old miner who she had met on the day of her arrival stood close behind her.

  "Oh Lord! You scared me nearly to death." Laura laughed nervously.

  His stare was hard and full of suspicion.

  "I’m sorry, but I didn’t see a sign posted," she tried to explain.

  "Makes no difference. You go snooping around someone’s mine, you’re liable to get shot."

  "I said I was sorry," Laura apologized once again.

  "You’d be that gal that works for those clear-cut fools."

  Laura nodded an affirmation.

  "Well, you’d best be getting on your way." He turned away from her and spit a wad of tobacco into the dry dirt.

  "Excuse me, sir, but what is your name?"

  "Name’s Hughes ... Dewey Hughes." The old man’s voice was as rough as sandpaper.

  "Is there any way I can ask you a few questions?"

  "Nope." He made no attempt to hide his obvious distrust.

  "One of our employees by the name of Dan Mitchell has disappeared. Do you have any idea what might have happened to him?" Her voice remained polite, in spite of his rude behavior.

  "Lady, you don’t listen very well do you? I done told you I don’t have anything to say."

  "Mr. Hughes, I'm sorry to intrude on you like this, but there is something very wrong around here. There is a man missing. Doesn’t that mean anything to you people?" Laura was unable to keep her irritation from coming through in her voice.

  "Miss, it isn’t any of my affair, and if you had any smarts you’d skin on out of here yourself," he warned.

  Thinking it best to change the subject for now, she pushed on. "I was looking around the graveyard in Brantic City today and I noticed a lot of people around here died at a young age. Do you know why?"

  "Well ... I’m not all that old Missy, but it’s been said that a lot of those people that lay in that cemetery were put there by the Indians."

  That is when it dawned on her what else had troubled her about the graves. "It seems to me that several of those graves were put there in the Twentieth-century. That couldn’t have been the Indians. When you walk through that cemetery, you get the idea that Brantic City became a ghost town as a result of its residence dying rather than relocating."

  His eyes held the mischievous gleam of someone who is keeping a secret that they find very amusing. "I’ll bet your Mr. Mitchell could answer your questions, and if you keep going the way you are you just might get the chance to ask him about it." His cackling laughter followed him as he started toward some outbuildings.

  "Hey, if you know anything about his disappearance it would be best if you talk to me about it. If you don’t tell me, you’ll just have to talk to the police," Laura yelled after him.

  He made no effort to respond, but kept walking. The old fart was probably just a nut, she concluded. Laura started back to her car, thinking it would probably be best to let the police handle it anyway. As soon as they got the cutting well underway she was going home.

  Doubling back through Brantic City she passed the field office and noticed that Jessup didn’t look to be anywhere around. Continuing on, she turned up toward Beaver Creek. A chill rippled through her as she drove by the Beaver Creek Cemetery. It occurred to her that it held relatively few graves compared to the one in Brantic City.

  Maybe it was the Indians after all? Laura pondered the possibility.

  The logging camp consisted of three travel trailers, two tents and a portable outhouse. Laura parked her car next to an old green army jeep. It was the only vehicle in camp.

  Laura tried knocking at one of the trailers, but no one answered. Where was everyone?

  This place was really starting to give her the creeps. Laura had just started to walk to a tan and white trailer when someone called out from its open window.

  "Who’s out there messing around?" The male voice was rough and Laura thought just a little slurred.

  "Laura Ellison, from the office. Where is everyone?" she called back.

  The small door opened to reveal a thin, lanky looking man with a long beard. He stood in the doorway in nothing but boxers as he casually assessed her.

  Embarrassed, Laura averted her eyes. This brought on the man’s crude laughter.

  "Everyone went to town for the weekend, that is, everyone but me."

  "Do you happen to know where Clyde Jessup is today?" Laura looked away.

  "With them, I'd guess."

  Laura started to walk away, but the sound of his voice stopped her. "Hey! If you are looking for some company, I could sure use some myself." His eyes roamed up and down her, leaving no room to mistake his meaning.

  "No thanks, I'd rather be by myself." Laura
sent him a cold smile.

  The man muttered something under his breath which Laura was sure had been an obscenity.

  She drove away without a glance behind her. Not having anything else to do today, she decided to see how far the road went before it circled back to Brantic City. Jessup had mentioned something about an old cavalry fort up this way. Maybe she would stop there and do some sketching while she had lunch.

  The road twisted and turned for miles before she spotted something in a clearing off to the left. Here she saw the road which led to the fort, at least what passed for a road.

  Leaving the truck running, she got out to examine the log building. The structure was badly deteriorating and crumbling away. A touch of disappointment stirred within her. She had been hoping for something a little more picturesque.

  At least it looked like a pleasant place to have lunch, Laura thought as she killed the Bronco’s engine. Taking out the basket that she had packed for lunch, she went in search of a good place to sit.

  Finding a shady spot, she sat in the grass and opened the basket. Laura had not realized until now how famished she was. It must be several hours past lunch. The sun was already sinking low in the horizon.

  Laura felt much better after her lunch of bread and cheese. She washed down the last bite with a gulp of apple juice and decided there was still enough daylight left to do some exploring. Laura circled began to walk a circle around the building. The rancid smell of mildew and rot caused her to bring her hand up in an attempt block the scent.

  Coming across what had once been a door, she peered inside. Darkness cloaked the interior of the building. Laura now wished that she had thought of bringing the flashlight. Knowing there could be a number of different critters hiding in the darkness, Laura decided to wait until she had some source of light before venturing inside.

  She continued her examination of the building’s exterior. In many places the weeds grew at least to her waist. This tended to slow her progress. Laura’s foot kicked something that sounded like metal and she bent down to see what it was.