Trapper's Moon

by Gini Rifkin

  “All alone? Out here?”

  “It seemed like a good idea at the time. But Sir Reginald’s protests soon proved well founded, and I realized the true danger and foolishness of my decision when the English devils captured me.”

  She sounded defensive, but the words Kade bit back were of surprise, not admonishment. Heaven above, she was an independent creature. Most men wouldn’t come this far west alone. Despite her poor judgment he had to admire her courage and tenacity.

  “So, what was at the camp you came across before this Lord fellow took sick?

  “Nothing good. Only bits of trade cloth and rotted leather, and tipi rings surrounded by scorched earth and bones. The place I once knew was gone except for the memories. That is why I must keep searching elsewhere.”

  “I’m sorry. Maybe Tucket and I can help you after we do our trading.”

  She gave a slight smile and rose to put food on a third plate. Sunlight filtered in around her, adding a sparkle to the dust motes swirling in the air by the hearth. The halo of light surrounding her prompted fanciful thoughts. Maybe Blind Deer was some kind of Indian princess.

  A fun notion to consider, but in his heart he knew such ideas, like his finding a wintertime love, were wishful thinking, and that never got him anywhere except behind in his chores.

  “After rendezvous, you could partner up with us.”

  “Finding my people is all I care about. Nothing else matters.” Her sharp words took him by surprise, along with her dead serious expression. Was she trying to say she had no place for him or anybody else in her life?

  Figuring more talk would do no good and lead to frustration, Kade gulped down the last of his food. “I better go help Tucket.”

  He set his tin plate near the hearth and grabbed the one Blind Deer made up for the older man. “Thank you again for breakfast. I’ll deliver this for you.”

  Fearing she might change her mind about going with them, he left the cabin quickly before another word could be spoken by either one of them. At least she would be with them for a few more weeks, even though with her own purpose in mind, and not because she sought his company.

  He lost no time heading for the sanctity of the corral and Tucket’s familiar face, but after several steps, he slowed his pace to ease his injured foot. His conversation with Blind Deer left him unsettled. On the one hand he felt glad she was coming, on the other downhearted knowing she’d eventually seek a path bound to take her far away from him. Disappointment had him scowling at the realization.

  “Here’s your breakfast.” His thoughts far away, he handed off the food to Tucket. “How are the mules?”

  “They look better than you.” Tucket gave Kade the once over. “You off your feed or somethin’?”

  “Somethin’.” Kade glanced back at the cabin.

  It didn’t take his friend long to figure out the cause of his distress.

  “She sure be a comely addition to the cabin.” Tucket nodded with a sideways glance at Kade. “Cooks good too. I was afraid she’d be feedin’ us nothing but Mandan stew or succotash, but other than these here flapjacks, she ain’t cooked the same thing twice since we’ve been here.”

  “I asked her to go with us to rendezvous. That okay with you?” Kade supposed he should have checked with Tucket before making the offer.

  “Sure, Kade. It’ll save me the torture of havin’ only your face to look at all the way there.”

  Even his partner’s playful jibe didn’t shake Kade from his thoughts. Rather than retaliating with a remark of his own, he wandered over to the heap of firewood needing to be split. Balancing a large piece of aspen on the chopping stump, he swung the big axe up and over his head. The downward blow seemed to shake the surrounding earth.

  He guessed it was just not meant to be. But then why had his path crossed Blind Deer’s with such fire and wonderment only to strike off in another direction so quickly? Thinking of her being gone made him feel lonely, not a doin’ which often plagued him. And he already had enough on his mind.

  So many things in life depended on timing—and mountain man luck. Even reaching the site in the valley of the Green took proper planning. If they left too early, they might be caught in a late spring storm. If they tarried, they would miss the opening days of trading. Late-comers couldn’t bargain, they took whatever they could get, and he and Tucket had worked too hard for these hides not to get the best price.

  Then there were the supply wagons from back East. They would take the familiar route up the North Platte, thence up the Sweetwater and over South Pass. They traveled on luck, too, as well as on knowhow. And even with Fitzpatrick and Sublette’s experience, and Moses “Black” Harris leading them, who knew if they would make it there? Between bad weather, accidents, and hostiles, there was great potential for trouble betwixt the Missouri and the rendezvous site.

  ****

  Kade kept at the backbreaking work for over an hour.

  Tucket continued to examine the mules, picking hooves, and checking eyes for signs of problems, and ears for signs of ticks. Then he inspected their tack and gear.

  By mid-morning there was enough wood chopped to keep a fort-full of soldiers warm for an entire winter. Finally, ready for a break, Kade stood amid the splintered mound of aspen.

  As he wiped the sweat from his face with the sleeve of his shirt, he noticed Blind Deer heading into the woods, a basket in her arms. What did she go to gather? Probably still too early for any berries to be ripe up here. Unable to resist, he abandoned the axe and headed in the same direction.

  Carefully picking her way over the uneven footing, she seemed to find the easiest course through the trees and rocky terrain. Reaching a large cottonwood, she stopped to gather moss from the north side. So, this was the purpose of her excursion. Sheet after sheet, she carefully chose then placed each piece in the bottom of the basket. She did not take all from any one tree, and she did not take any from some. Like a curious sparrow, she scrutinized every trunk before beginning her harvest.

  Moseying along, she talked and clucked to the birds, rabbits, and squirrels. They did not scurry from her path as they did from his—they more or less made way for her passage. When it seemed she had a goodly supply of the moss, Blind Deer turned her attention to picking other plants, ones Kade would have dismissed as weeds. She chose and gathered them with the same thoughtfulness and care assuring him they were of a more worthy nature.

  It didn’t appear she was going to wander much farther, and feeling guilty for secretly watching her, he decided to return to the cabin. She should be safe enough, and Maggie would warn him if anything was amiss.

  Just as he turned to leave, Blind Deer set her basket aside and stretched out on a hillside of grass dotted with the first meadow flowers. The sunlight trimmed everything in gold, and he soaked in each detail, making sure the image would never fade. Next season when the wind howled and the snow blew fierce, this remembrance would warm his heart.

  He longed to lie beside her, just to talk or share the silence, but he couldn’t bring himself to intrude upon her solitude. If she had wanted his company, she would have asked. After watching a few moments longer, he slipped away.

  As he finished stacking the wood he’d split, Blind Deer returned. She took the basket into the cabin and came back with a tin cup of fresh water. “I see you have been working very hard today.” She offered him the drink, making sure not to stand too closely.

  “It’s good for the soul.” A lie of course, as his soul felt anything but good. In fact, it felt troubled as it never had before. He took the water from her, drinking non-stop, not even pausing for a breath.

  “How’s the arm healing?” He set the cup down on an upturned barrel and tried to think of something more to say to keep her at his side.

  “Soon it will be as it once was. There is no permanent injury.”

  “I’m sure glad to hear that. You know it was an accident, right? I would never hurt you on purpose.”

  “I believe you, McCaul
ey.”

  He took a step closer. When she didn’t tense up or shy away, he reached out and touched the flower tucked behind her left ear. She smelled fresh and spicy, like a sage prairie in early fall.

  Emboldened, he slid his fingers from the flower to her hair, daring to touch the thick braid looped over her shoulder. She smiled at him, tentatively, sweetly, and a wave of longing flashed through him, almost bringing him to his knees. She seemed unaware of the effect she had upon him.

  When he lowered his arm to his side, she retrieved the blossom, cradling it in her hand. “I should not have picked it. Now it will die all the sooner for having served my vanity.”

  “Maybe it rejoices,” Kade countered, “finding the sacrifice of little consequence. Maybe it feels even more special because you chose it above all the other flowers covering the hillside.”

  “How did you know I found it on the hill?” Her demeanor swiftly changed, but she didn’t take a step backward.

  “Now don’t get riled.” He placed what he hoped was a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “I saw you leaving, and I didn’t know how far you were going. I was worried about you. I only followed at a distance, and only watched you for a short while.”

  “You were worried about my welfare?”

  Kade nodded. She seemed to believe him but not understand why.

  “Thank you for not intruding.” Her smile returned. “It was a peaceful moment—without fear. It has been a long time since I felt one with the land.” The shoulder he touched relaxed. The soft buckskin beneath his fingers still held the warmth of the sun.

  Could they be more different from one another? Blind Deer came from two worlds, and his seemed different from both of hers. Lately, there appeared to be an overabundance of worlds, the people in them ready to war with one another at the least incentive.

  Everything was getting too complicated.

  He leaned forward intent on kissing those lips he’d been dreaming about—there was nothing complicated about that. She placed both hands on his chest as if to hold him back. His enthusiasm plummeted. Then she slipped her arms around his neck, as if seeking more to be held rather than kissed.

  Beneath the soft buckskin dress, Blind Deer’s unbound breasts pressed flat against his chest, firing hot emotions. This time the heat did not come from the sun. He wanted to pick her up, carry her to the cabin, and make love to her. Knowing such a move would be unseemly of him, and frightening to her, he overcame the pounding urgency.

  Yet unwilling to let her go without a little taste, he drew back slightly and kissed her, short and feather-light. “I’ve wanted to do that for an awfully long time.”

  “It is good you are of a persistent nature, McCauley.”

  Their lips met again, this time longer, harder, more ardently. When her closeness became too big of a temptation, urging him to take more than he felt she would be willing to give, he eased her away, slowly removing her arms from around his neck. Her shy smile indicated he’d done the right thing. Side by side, shoulder to shoulder, they walked back to the cabin—if not as true friends, at least as companions—this in itself marked a big step in their relationship.

  Too bad once they arrived at rendezvous, he would lose her forever.

  ****

  The next few days scurried by like rabbits on the run.

  McCauley didn’t kiss her again, but the closeness she felt, and the occasional touching of hands as they went about their daily lives was a gift. These special moments reclaimed once lost memories of contentment and hope—feelings she missed and wanted to know again. She felt whole rather than made up of two pieces held together by determination and circumstance. But McCauley was a distraction and finding her family or what had become of them had to come first.

  ****

  The day of their departure broke gently and sunny, so the feeling of sorrow in leaving the little cabin came as a surprise to Blind Deer. Twisting around, she glanced back at the weathered structure and listing porch. The windows were shuttered, and no smoke drifted from the crooked chimney. The cabin seemed sad too.

  She watched and watched, until the view became a blur. She would remember it like that—soft and welcoming, no harsh details or imperfections to mar her memory of the days spent there with McCauley. Facing forward, she decided sometimes bad vision took the sharp edges off the world, making it a place of comfort rather than a place of struggle.

  After several miles, Kade slowed their pace, and a feeling of unrest overtook her emotions, but glancing from side to side, she saw no sign of man nor beast. Traveling now in their new order, insisted upon by the men, Tucket brought up the rear of their caravan. He kept at the same easy pace but sat more erect.

  Snorting and balking, Kade’s mule abruptly halted, the whites of its eyes flashing.

  Tucket rode up alongside of her and handed off the leads of the pack mules and horses, then he headed for Kade.

  Maggie barked, her hackles raised.

  “What the devil’s got into these critters?” Tucket reined in next to Kade.

  “Darned if I know. I don’t see one thing out of the ordinary. Haven’t crossed any tracks or sign.

  “I don’t smell nothin’.” Tucket put his nose to the wind and gave another few good sniffs.

  Kade dismounted and unsheathed his Kentucky longrifle from its beaded buckskin case. “Stay here with Blind Deer and keep your eyes open.” He glanced around, his free hand on the Charleville pistol hooked to his belt. “Could be more Hudson’s Bay boys about in these parts. I’ll walk on up ahead and reconnoiter a bit. Better keep Maggie back too.” Armed with the firearms and knife, Kade silently picked a path through the tall grass.

  Then he was gone. Disappeared. Swallowed up by the earth.

  Blind Deer urged her horse forward.

  “You stay put.” Tucket’s quick forceful command cut her efforts short. “And mind the animals.” His dark expression added the unspoken don’t argue.

  As she worked to control the horses and pack animals, Tucket dismounted and eased forward. Whining, Maggie followed at his heels.

  “Please, let him be all right. Smile your protection down upon him.” In desperation, she directed her whispered plea to the Great Spirit of her childhood, as well as the white God her mother believed in.

  Chapter Seven

  Kade couldn’t move. He rested flat on his stomach, head to one side, dirt packed around his body. It felt like half a mountain was heaped on his backside. At least he could breathe—barely. The hood of his woolen capote had flopped forward over his face, keeping all but a sprinkling of the dirt from entering his mouth and nose.

  What in hellfire had happened?

  His right hand grasped what felt like a rotting hide, and the ferocious smell surrounding him did not encourage him to take a deep breath—even if he could. He moved his left leg—a large stone bit into his anklebone. Other than that, it felt undamaged. He did the same on the right. Searing pain followed. He couldn’t remember ever feelin’ a hurt that bad. Then he flexed his shoulders. Here was agony equal or greater.

  The pain came in waves, crashing through his body from top to bottom. As he forced his muscles to relax, the weight of the earth and the confines of the space began to take its toll. His pulse raced, and he gritted his teeth, terrified at not being able to move.

  Anger momentarily blotted out the overwhelming fear. Is this how things worked? He’d finally scraped together a little money, thought this might be the best season of his life, and now it could be his last. And then there was Blind Deer, a woman who piqued his interest, one he wanted to know better, get closer to. In kaleidoscope fashion, one dreadful picture after another rampaged through Kade’s mind—plunging him into a full blown panic. What if he made it through only to live forever a stoved-in crippled?

  The muffled sound of Tucket’s voice and Maggie’s barking penetrated the dark tomb, bolstering his spirits and snapping his thoughts back to the present. They would get him out. His breathing slowed, and to ease his
soul he grasped at the most comforting notion he could think of—Blind Deer, so beautiful among the meadow of flowers. And what about the kiss they’d shared, innocent yet charged with hope as well as the desire for more.

  Usually thoughts of Blind Deer sent his body and mind into a tailspin, encouraging him to do and say things he’d never even considered before. Now the vision quieted his fears, and he smiled, not minding the taste of dirt in his mouth.

  The sound of earth and rock tumbling downward gave little warning before more weight crushed in on him—the helpless sensation rushed back full force.

  An odd roaring noise filled his head, and a tingling started in his hands and feet, creeping upward along his limbs. He felt weightless as if floating in water. Is this how the beaver felt when they drowned in his traps? A great sorrow welled up in him. He’d never looked at things from their point of view. Never dwelled upon what happened between setting the trap and stretching the hide.

  The blackness thickened, covering him with an almost sympathetic embrace. His lungs screamed for air, his body screamed for freedom, his brain simply screamed.

  ****

  Watching as Tucket gingerly approached the dark abyss, Blind Deer inched her horse and the string of animals as close as she dared.

  Unafraid when it came to helping his friend, Tucket went right to the edge, risking himself in an attempt to see how bad-off Kade might be. When he stared down into the rift and swore an oath strong enough to uncurl buffalo hair, her worst fears were realized.

  Maggie barked and whined and paced along the jagged lip of the hole. Cut off from her master, coyote/dog seemed confused as well as frightened.

  The horses and mules, less jumpy now, gave Blind Deer incentive to dismount and tie them securely to a section of nearby trees. Then ignoring Tucket’s order to stay put, she edged toward the rift.

  Still hovering on the edge, Tucket motioned her back with one hand. “Hold on there, missy. Don’t come any closer.”

  “How bad is it? Does he live?”