by Gini Rifkin
“You’re not going anywhere without me.”
Brother or no brother, alarm shot through him at the thought of her taking off without him. He had to say something to convince her to stay, yet he really had no right to ask her to wait for him. No right to these grand new feelings and the overwhelming need to protect and care for her.
“Besides, you’re wrong. If you leave me behind it would be very bad for my recovery.” A lame excuse, and unkind of him to play upon her sympathy—but anything to buy him some time. He couldn’t imagine waking up to find Blind Deer gone for good. Couldn’t imagine living in a world without her.
“We’re partners now. And partners don’t turn their backs on one another.” The words came out sounding all riled up as the fear of losing her turned to anger. “You didn’t abandon me when I got hurt. Don’t deny me the right of seeing you safely to the Green.”
Her expression sobered even more, and she gazed into his eyes as if divining the true intent behind his words. “We will go together then, McCauley. But not tomorrow. In a few days. If we leave in haste and you sicken on the trail, you are too big for me to carry in a cradleboard.” She gave a little chuckle at her own humor.
Blind Deer wasn’t inclined to making jokes. Despite her sadness, seeing her brother had brought a new aspect to her personality. Maybe from remembering how life used to be.
“All right then.” He nodded in agreement, and the reprieve left him lightheaded. “We’ll go in two days.”
Standing beside the bed, she put a hand on his shoulder, encouraging him to sit on the edge.
“You must rest now. I will start a fire, and soon we will have roast goose.”
Still facing her, Kade let the blanket fall from around his shoulders to his lap. Before she could turn away, he reached out, placing his hands around her waist. She offered him no resistance as he drew her closer, immobilizing her between his still covered thighs. Leaning forward he lay his cheek against the front of her soft buckskin dress—and against her soft tempting woman’s body.
When she ran her fingers through his hair, cradling him closer, a powerful yearning took control of him—he couldn’t think, only feel, and he reveled in the gentle rise and fall of her chest and the quickening beat of her heart.
“You have recovered more than you let on, McCauley.” A breathless quality wrapped around her words. “Perhaps a ploy to draw me unsuspecting to your bed.”
“No.” He drew back and eased his hold on her. “I’ll not trick you into sharing my blankets.” Besides, he wanted their first time together to be his best effort, proving the magnitude of his love—and his prowess. Just imagining their bodies united in love set off a collection of body aches overshadowing the need in other parts of his body. Nothing was gonna happen tonight.
“Go cook.” The words came out gruffly, and remaining seated, he gently pushed her away. “Go, before I change my mind and really give myself a relapse.” He tried to be content watching Blind Deer prepare their meal, but he hungered for her, not for food.
“Where’s Maggie?” Suddenly, he remembered he hadn’t seen her in what seemed like days.
As Blind Deer bent to add more wood to the fire, she froze mid-motion. Recovering, she finished the task in silence. Standing tall, and dusting the bits of wood from her hands, she turned to face him. Her serious demeanor, and the hurt look in her eyes, had him grabbing the edge of the bed with both hands.
“Is Maggie hurt? What happened?”
“You were dying Kade. We were both starving. All the elk Tucket left was ruined by a greedy wolverine, and except for catching one small fish, my eyes failed me, and I failed you. Try as I did, I couldn’t find us any food. There was nothing left to eat—nothing. Do you understand? You were fading. And I despaired. Not thinking straight, I thought Maggie our only hope.”
By the grace of the Almighty, had she killed Maggie? Kade lurched upright, one hand instinctively clutching the blanket in place. Had she fed him his own dog? His stomach revolted as the vision took hold. He knew of tribes who ate dog, but he would have rather died than eat Maggie.
“You mean she’s dead?” He braced for the answer.
“Oh no, Kade. I could not kill her. At the last minute I fired to one side, hitting a tree, but the noise and betrayal scared her away. I think she is nearby. I left her a scrap of food after we had the ducks which Nikota left for us. I am sorry, Kade. I miss dog too.”
“She’ll come back.” Relief flooded his senses, and he slumped back onto the edge of the bed. “She’s been known to go roaming on occasion.”
To have considered using Maggie for food, Blind Deer must have been half out of her mind, just like he’d been most of the time. He knew she’d grown fond of the big dog. He tried to imagine her torment deciding between killing the dog and watching him grow weaker, maybe dying.
“You shouldn’t have been left here alone to fend for yourself. It’s my fault you had to go through this.”
“Do not blame yourself. If anyone is a failure it is I. Living with the white man has made me soft. I thought I could survive in the old ways, but I cannot. With each passing day, I realize more and more how much I have changed. I tried hard to remember the teachings from my childhood, but I have forgotten the little things. And lots of little things make a big thing. I must go back and try to help my tribe, but I do not feel like one of them, and I cannot go back East either. I belong nowhere, with no future. I have failed.”
There was anger in her voice.
Kade tugged lightly on one arm until she glanced at him. “I remember quite a bit of what you told me as you sat by my bedside. You gave me a glimpse of your soul, and what I saw there was beautiful—despite all the ugliness you’ve seen. You’re not a failure. If anything, you’re a testimony to what good you found in either group.”
Why couldn’t she see her worth, and a future together with him? If it meant following her rather than his own trail, he was willing to give it a try. He was willing to do anything—anything but give Blind Deer up. Somehow, he would make it his mission for the two of them to stay together.
Chapter Eleven
That night, Blind Deer stood barefoot and silent in the dark cabin, sleep eluding her. Kade’s slow, even breathing indicated he slumbered undisturbed.
He had made great strides today, and like he promised they would leave soon. They must, and her brother would travel with them. What would Nikota do after rendezvous? The HBC was enemy to her brother now too. They would all be on dangerous ground when they arrived there.
Gazing through the partially shuttered window, she stood transfixed by the netherworld delivered silently during the borrowed time found only in the deep of night. Everything within her view was peaceful and still, unlike the thoughts tearing through her mind.
Nikota’s tracking skills and good fortune had reunited them. She also believed it to be an answer to her many prayers to her ancestors. What a joy to see him again. He had been the best possible messenger but bearing the worst possible news.
A cloud passed over the moon, plunging the landscape into darkness, just as the shadow of concern dulled her bright feeling for Kade.
He was becoming too close to her.
During these last few days, they had shared many a tender touch and a few stolen kisses, the true emotion behind these innocent actions mounting to a fevered pitch. The rapture building between them was ripe, ready to flower into a passionate display she may not be able to resist.
Kade would soon be healed enough to approach her with a man’s yearning to match her own feminine desire. But surrendering to him physically would be a mistake. Giving him her heart would be an even bigger disaster. So many people she cherished had died, leaving her stricken by their loss. Besides, he was a man who cherished his freedom, and she must return with her brother to her people. Although the survivors were few, they were in great need of help—she would not turn her back on them. This meant she must be content with only Kade’s friendship, and not take or give a
nything greater.
To share one’s love the first time was a gift, to be given only once, never to be reclaimed. A precious gift to be treasured and remembered together for all the years to come. But after rendezvous, she must leave Kade. There would be no years to come. Yet what little they could share, if only for a short while, would become a good memory to help defeat the bad ones.
The sky cleared and moonlight streamed in through the window and tiny spaces in the wall where the chinking was missing.
“It’s a glorious night.”
She gasped in surprise at the sound of Kade’s voice. He drew near, his arms encircling her from behind. Held a willing captive, her heartbeat quickened. She pictured his broad chest and strong shoulders, and unable to resist, she leaned back, surrendering to his embrace.
He pressed gentle kisses to her arched neck, his hands gliding upward from her waist to her breasts—the thin nightshirt given to her at the Fort created only an imperceptible barrier. Desire fought reason and almost won. But he wasn’t hers to keep, and being with him would be dangerous as well as wonderful. What if she got with child? She could barely take care of herself.
His right hand trailed lower to the space between her legs, and thoughts of logic dissolved away when he groaned out her name and pressed closer from behind—his need and desire as obvious as her own. She knew this was wrong. It would make their parting of ways even more difficult.
“I cannot do what you silently ask of me. I’ve never been with a man. This is not my time.”
If only she had still been living with her tribe, wearing a virgin’s cape, announcing to all men her status—making such words unnecessary.
Kade stilled his movements, issuing a sound between a growl and a groan. She trembled, but not with anticipation. Mistrust reared its head, and for a moment she feared his reaction. Did her declaration anger him? Would he try to have her anyway?
He stood a little straighter, and the cool night air slipped between them. “Well we’re even on that score. I’ve never been with a man either.”
His attempt at humor quelled her fright. She felt guilty for thinking he would be so cruel as to force himself upon her. This time she expected the worst and found the best.
Remaining at her back and seeming to understand, he rested his hands upon her shoulders.
“I’m not giving up on us, Blind Deer. I can wait.”
When she turned her head to glance back at him, he kissed her cheek, and then reaching for one of her hands, he drew her closer to the window. “The moon is so big tonight it reminds me of a Trapper’s Moon.”
Blind Deer squinted up at the sky, and although she would never know the patterns formed by the twinkling bits of light, her shortcoming did not stifle her curiosity for the world around her.
“What exactly is a Trapper’s Moon?” She was glad they pursued a subject other than the history of her love life, or lack thereof. And she enjoyed hearing about anything to do with Saka’am, the moon.
“It comes in February, and it’s a formidable sight—big and bright, like a golden plum, ripe for the picking. A body feels he might reach out and touch it if he could but climb a bit higher up into the heavens. So bright does it shine, if the rivers are thawed, a trapper can walk his lines all night long using the light it gives off to show him the way.”
Blind Deer watched Kade’s face as he spoke. His strong profile and earnest expression revealed his great love for the land and the wilderness. A handsome and noble face, one she fancied she would have been content to grow old beside.
“Maybe we’ll see the next Trapper’s Moon together. Who knows?” He gave her hips a playful sideways bump with his. “Heck, we’ll see many a Trapper’s Moon, and the first snow in winter, and the wonder of the Northern lights.”
Her heart ached a little more. Kade possessed such optimism, still believing they would somehow be together—somehow she would stay with him and Tucket. But right now, happiness was no longer an emotion upon which she could base her life. She must make him understand.
“I cannot be in your future, Kade. Your path is freedom, mine is responsibility.”
“What are you talking about? Did I do or say something to hurt you?”
“No, you do everything right. Too right. Still, I cannot turn my back on my people.”
“Is it because of the young man you once knew, before they sent you to St. Louis? You called him your betrothed. Did he let you down? Take another to his bed while you were gone.”
“It is true we were to be married one day, when we were older.” She smiled, recalling the day they were promised to one another as children. They had laughed, too young to be serious about the ceremony. “Nikota told me he grew to be a strong brave, but he was also one of those who died. I no longer have an obligation to him, only to the others. Besides, everyone I care about dies. I won’t let that happen to you.”
“So, I don’t get any say in the matter? And not everyone you care about has died, not your brothers.”
“It is not my fate.” What more could she say to convince him?
“It could be. I’m declaring my love for you, and I have mountain man luck enough for the both of us. Surviving the cave-in proves my words. We don’t need fate smiling down on us.”
“Fate has never smiled on me, Kade. It has laughed cruelly on many occasions, but it never smiles.” Her voice sounded bitter even to her own ears.
****
The next morning, Kade awakened first. Remaining silent, he watched Blind Deer as she lay peacefully in the innocence of sleep. The closeness they had shared last night had been more than he’d expected, but far less then he’d desired. At least she hadn’t come apart at the seams when he impulsively declared his love for her—she hadn’t said it back either—just she couldn’t be part of his future. Meaning what? Sometimes a man or woman had to carve out their own future, even if it meant going against nature, or fate, or a mountain standing in the way.
Easing out from under the warm cocoon of blankets—and her nearness—he braved the chill morning air, quickly pulling on his clothes. Then he revived the fire and fed chunks of wood to the hearth. She had repaired his buckskins and fashioned new moccasins for him from the leather kept in the trunk for such needs. She must feel something for him to perform such a personal almost intimate kindness.
One way or another, they had to work this out. He wasn’t about to let the best thing in his life slip away without a fight. He’d probably pushed too hard, should have taken things more slowly. But lucky or not, who knew how much time a body had left on this earth.
Besides, he downright loved Blind Deer. The first time he laid eyes on her lying there so small and helpless, then defiant and brave, he knew she was special.
He’d never felt such an overwhelming need to safeguard and care for anything or anybody, other than Maggie of course. Which reminded him, she was still keeping her distance, and the situation weighed heavy on his heart. They had left her food, and from the cabin he’d seen her come and take it, but then she ran back off into the woods. Up until now, he’d been too stove-in to follow after.
Pondering a wagonload of thoughts and unanswered questions, Kade heated water for washing and making tea. Blind Deer stirred, and he glanced over his shoulder. Usually, she was up first, groomed and bright-eyed by the time he saw her. Today she created quite another picture with sleepy eyes and tousled hair—long, enticing hair. Wearing a linen nightshirt, she looked about six years old. Gratefully accepting the capote he handed her, she padded barefoot over to the welcoming warmth of the fire.
“Good morning,” Kade greeted. “Thought I’d cook you breakfast for a change before our confab with your brother this morning.”
“Thank you. I did not mean to sleep so late, but then it was a most unusual night.” She smiled up at him, her expression wistful.
“I’m the one should be thanking you—for the new footwear. They fit perfect. Never had a nicer pair.”
“You are welcome. Your old o
nes smelled so bad, Tucket buried them.”
He gave a chuckle picturing his partner shoveling away. “They saw a lot of miles over the last few years. I’m thinking these will see even more. There’s hot water when you want it. Just let me know.”
She pulled on her own moccasins and ran the porcupine tail hairbrush through her hair before braiding the locks. Then gathering the capote closer, she left the cabin.
Kade began mixing batter to try his hand at making flapjacks. He’d seen Blind Deer do it often enough—how hard could it be?
Moments later, the cabin clouded over with smoke, reeking with the smell of burning oil. Using a towel, Kade waved the dense fog toward the open door. Blind Deer rushed back in to see what was happening.
“Kade, are you all right?”
“Everything is okay,” he reassured between fits of coughing, “but breakfast is a might overdone.” Wrapping his hand in the towel, he grabbed the handle of the hot smoking pan, hurried out the door, and set it on the porch.
“Tea will be enough.” Stifling a laugh, she carefully opened the precious parchment labeled Zodiac extra fine.
He returned, still holding the bedraggled singed towel. “Good choice. Guess I never realized cookin’ could be so dangerous. Tucket and I usually stuck to beans and hardtack.”
He made two cups of the brew and handed one to Blind Deer. “It’ll be shinin’ times when we join up with him at rendezvous. I sure hope he’s faring well. I don’t like he had to go it alone.”
“You know there was no choice.”
“I do.” He appreciated the logic of her words, but the feeling he’d let his partner down wasn’t something he’d experienced before, and not something easily quelled. “Still it’s a worry.”
They sat at the little table, and after a few moments, he had to broach the subject gnawing at his mind like a beaver after the last lodgepole on Earth. “Blind Deer, in the light of day, I want you to look me in the eyes and deny you love me. Or declare there’s no hope you ever could.”