“Just get it over with, Walker.” She spoke with a determination in her voice that made Lucas’ heart leap in his chest. She was stunning, and full of spirit. He couldn’t get enough of looking at her pretty face. Dammit, what the hell was happening to him?
“Here.” She held up her hand. Lucas forced his eyes from her face and took the needle she held out to him. He threaded a strand of horsehair with unsteady fingers. He looked at her again, then at the wound.
It needed stitching. There was no way around it. Hesitating, he gently touched the skin around the torn flesh. She flinched, and sucked in a hissing breath.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, and ground his teeth. Touching her had been easier when she was passed out. “Do you want something to bite down on?”
She shook her head quickly from side to side.
“Just do it.” She stared up at him, and a moment of panic passed through her eyes. Lucas held her gaze, wishing he could absorb her pain. There was something else written in her green depths, a feminine softness, despite her harsh words.
She nodded at him, then closed her eyes. Lucas forced his attention to the task at hand. He pushed all other thoughts aside. He concentrated on the flesh wound, nothing else. It was just a wound, like so many others he’d tended before.
He inserted the needle through the skin close to the edge of the wound, and pulled it through quickly, then pushed it under the skin at the opposite edge. Victoria tensed, and pressed her lips together. The worst was over, this time. Lucas tied the thread into a knot, pulling the edges of her skin together, and repeated the action. Each time the needle pierced her skin, she stiffened, but she never once cried out.
He tied off the final stitch, and glanced up. He hadn’t dared to look at her this entire time, wanting to get the task done quickly. Perspiration beaded her forehead, and her eyes remained tightly shut.
“It’s done,” Lucas said quietly, swiping at his own damp face. He reached for the wet cloth lying on the bed that she’d obviously used to clean off the wound earlier, and dabbed at the spots of blood that still oozed through the cracks. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked up at him. Lucas held his breath.
“My pa died from a gunshot wound that festered and wouldn’t heal,” she whispered.
Lucas swore under his breath. “When?”
“Last winter, after that bastard, Oliver Sabin, shot him. You were there that day.” Her voice cracked.
Lucas ran a trembling hand over his face. She’d been alone for more than a year? He reached for her hand, and gave it a light squeeze.
“Your wound isn’t going to fester, Tori,” he said firmly.
She drew in a sharp gasp, and her eyes twitched, then pooled with tears. She looked up at him as if she’d seen a ghost.
“What did you call me?” she asked softly, her words barely audible.
Lucas frowned, then shrugged. “Victoria’s a pretty name and all, but Tori suits you better.” Women were so particular. Why did she take issue with the shorter version of her name? “I hope you don’t mind,” he added hastily.
She pulled her hand from his grasp, and turned to her side. Her legs came up and she balled up in a protective pose. Pulling the blanket over her shoulders, she closed her eyes and began to sob.
Words failed him. What had he said or done to upset her? He had no experience consoling a distraught woman. An almost blinding need to wrap her in his arms consumed him, but he couldn’t risk causing her any more pain. She wouldn’t react kindly to such a gesture anyhow. Besides, the less she moved for now, the better chance her wound had to start healing.
“Uh, best get some sleep, and leave that wound open to the air for tonight.” Lucas moved off the bed, and stepped toward the hearth. Kneeling beside the glowing embers, he stuck a poker in the coals. He banked the fire for the night, and headed for the other bunk. Tonight he could finally get a full night’s sleep for the first time in days.
As he lay there, he stared up at the dark ceiling, watching the shadows from the last glows of the fire flicker along the wooden beams. His head turned to glance at the other bunk. Tori hadn’t moved. What was he going to do about her? Lucas closed his eyes, only to be confronted by visions of her beautiful face, smiling up at him, her eyes filled with trust and . . . He groaned and flipped to face the wall, his eyes wide open. Hell, tonight would be another sleepless night.
Chapter 6
Tori pulled a wool shirt on over her head. It had been one of her father’s that she’d altered before the first snow last winter. Her injury didn’t throb nearly as bad as it had the day before, a good sign that it was healing. The skin around the stitches stretched when she lifted her arm through the sleeve, hindering her movement. She certainly didn’t want the wound to re-open. At least the area looked clean, and there hadn’t been any more bleeding the past couple of days. Lucas Walker had done a decent job of sewing her up. Now if he would only leave, she could decide on what to do about her future.
Judging by the cloudless sky, and the sun shining brightly, it wouldn’t be too long before the snow was melted, and she could possibly think of relocating to another part of the mountains where no one would find her.
After tying the drawstrings of her britches, Tori pulled a belt around her waist, stepped into her fur-lined moccasins, and laced them up to her knees. She couldn’t stay cooped up in the cabin any longer. At Walker’s insistence, she’d remained in bed for most of the previous day. She’d argued, but he had threatened to tie her to the bed, and Tori had no doubt he would have done exactly that if she didn’t comply. The man was infuriating and bossy. What right did he have to come to her cabin, and order her around? She’d thanked him already for saving her life, what more did he want?
It unnerved her that he called her Tori, just as Timothy had done. No one had the right to call her that. Several times she’d reminded Walker that her name was Victoria. Hell, she didn’t mind if he called her Vic, but hearing him call her Tori sent an unexplainable longing through her. It was a special endearment, shared only between her and Timothy. Why did it send cascades of warmth through her whenever Lucas called her that?
Tori pulled her wool coat from the peg on the wall, slipped it on, and tentatively opened the door to the cabin. She squinted her eyes into the sunlight, made even brighter by the white cover of snow on the ground.
She was more than ready for spring to arrive. The area outside her cabin had thawed out nicely, and then that blizzard had to dump more snow. Luckily, rain had followed the blizzard, which melted much of it away.
Tori inhaled deeply. If not for Lucas Walker showing up nearly a week ago, she would no doubt be dead right now. Before his arrival, she barely had enough food to sustain her. Her eyes fell to the two birds he’d brought yesterday. Each day he’d prepared a meal. Her belly hadn’t been this full in months.
What are you going to do about him?
Lucas sure didn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave. Whenever she suggested he could be on his way, he’d simply shrugged and flashed that annoying grin her way.
She’d feigned sleep a while ago while he stirred and stoked the fire in the hearth to life, watching him discreetly through barely open eyes. He’d paid her no notice as he set about boiling water for coffee from his supplies, and heated up the leftover food in the kettle. The pleasant aroma that infused the cabin made her mouth water.
The presence of another person in her cabin and constantly nearby was downright unsettling. It made her realize how lonely she’d been since her papa’s death. Did she really want to remain alone for the rest of her life, up here on this mountain? These conflicting emotions racing through her would surely drive her mad.
Tori set her mouth in a tight line. It had to be this way. She loved living in the mountains. There was something exhilarating about these peaks, and the vastness of the untamed land. She felt the same draw to the wilderness that had brought her father here. He’d never been completely happy back in St. Louis, and only stayed there because of his w
ife.
Tori headed for the creek a short distance from her cabin. The wind rushed through the tall canopies of the trees around her, their trunks groaning and swaying in protest. She pulled her coat tighter around herself.
Ravens cawed loudly, and several other birds filled the air with song, a sure sign that spring would be here soon. The gurgle of the creek grew louder as she approached, and she followed along the bank for a while, until she came to a small clearing. A short distance from the water, under a large spruce, a crude wooden cross stuck out of the earth. Some of the dirt around it was concealed with snow, and Tori stepped lightly to the marker that indicated her father’s final resting place. She sank to her knees, and her chin dropped to her chest. Tentatively, she reached a hand out to touch the cross.
“I miss you, Papa,” she whispered, and blinked back the stinging sensation in her eyes. “Thank you for everything you did for me, and all the sacrifices you made. Maybe someday I can tell Mama that you loved her.”
Tori closed her eyes, her thoughts wandering to the night her father came for her in that cold prison cell. He gave up his marriage for her when he came to free her. Her hand wrapped lightly around her neck. Would it have been painful, swinging from a rope until she suffocated? She’d heard that those lucky enough to break their necks when they were hung suffered the least in their final moments. A shudder passed through her. Thanks to her father, she was spared that awful fate.
“Timothy,” she whispered, and tears rolled down her cheeks through the cracks of her closed eyelids.
A branch snapped loudly behind her, and Tori leapt to her feet. She whirled around on her heels, cursing under her breath that she’d left her knife at the cabin.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”
Lucas Walker stood several feet behind her. His lazy drawl, and the easy smile on his face belied his apology. How long had he been standing there? Stepping on the branch to give away his presence had been no accident. Tori quickly wiped at the moisture on her face, and straightened her posture.
“Don’t sneak up on me like that, Walker,” she grumbled, and moved to scurry around him.
If he hadn’t carried his rifle in one hand and been laden with a small deer draped around his shoulders, there was no doubt that he would have prevented her from moving past him. Tori gritted her teeth. Where had he found a buck to shoot? For weeks, she hadn’t seen any game tracks. She’d survived the winter on the squirrels and other rodents she’d caught when her dried venison was depleted.
“I hope you like venison,” Lucas called from behind her. “Tastes better than rabbit or squirrel.”
Tori clenched her jaw. Why did he always say out loud what she’d been thinking? She walked faster toward the cabin. He could boast about his hunting skills all he wanted. She certainly wouldn’t let him know that fresh venison would be a most welcome change in diet. She fisted her hands at her sides.
Dammit! She didn’t want anything from him! For days, he’d provided food and firewood, and it made her feel weak and incompetent. She knew how to survive on her own. She’d been doing it for over a year, and certainly didn’t need a man like Lucas Walker disrupting her life. Although she’d only barely survived the winter, she’d learned a lot from being on her own. She would be more prepared next time, and plan for the cold season much sooner.
“If you’re feeling up to it, you can help me strip the meat so we have enough provisions to get off this mountain.”
Tori stopped in her tracks. She slowly turned, and stood to face him.
“We?” She raised her eyebrows. “I’m glad you’ve finally decided to leave, Walker, but I’m not going anywhere.”
The grin on his face froze. His forehead wrinkled. Then he laughed.
“You can’t stay here, woman. Another season up here alone will finish you off for good.”
Tori’s hands shot to her hips, and her eyes narrowed. “How dare you tell me what I can and can’t do? This is my home, and I’m not leaving.”
Lucas shook his head, and thrust his rifle at her. “Hold this so I can get this buck strung up on that tree. I want to get it skinned and gutted.” He motioned with his head to a tree with a low-hanging bare branch.
Tori reached for the rifle. When her hand wrapped around the barrel, Lucas tugged the weapon to him, forcing her to take an involuntary step closer. Her eyes darted to his.
“Don’t get any crazy ideas,” he said in a low tone, and leaned forward. His breath tickled her cheek, and Tori bit her lower lip. An unexpected rush of heat shot through her insides, and her face flushed.
Damn him. Why do I have to feel so unsettled around him, like some weak ninny?
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm. The idea of putting a bullet in his chest held a certain appeal.
Lucas released his hold on the rifle, and stepped back. His eyes remained on her as he peeled the buck off his shoulders. Only when she propped the rifle against a nearby log did his attention fall completely on the deer. He tied a leather strap around its hind legs, and hoisted it up into the tree. Quickly and efficiently, he stripped the carcass of its hide, and removed the entrails.
Tori watched him work. Her pulse still quickened at his closeness a moment ago. Although he smelled predominantly like the deer he’d killed, Lucas’ usual pleasant woodsy scent, mingled with the musky smell of warm skin, lingered in her thoughts. She mentally shook her head. Her loneliness for human company must be playing with her mind. The idea of going with Lucas was inconceivable.
“Do you have family back in St. Louis?” he asked, his back turned to her while he sliced meat off the carcass.
“No,” she called quickly. He glanced over his shoulder with narrowed eyes.
He turned from his work to face her fully, not a trace of a smile on his face this time. “You can’t stay on this mountain, Tori. You almost died.”
“What I do is none of your concern, Walker.” Tori stood her ground. Was there a hint of worry in his demanding tone? He advanced on her, still holding his bloody hunting knife, the deer apparently forgotten.
“Why are you such a stubborn female? I’m offering you my help.” He stood so close, Tori stepped back. His intense blue eyes seemed to stare a hole right through her.
“With the exception of you sewing me up, I haven’t asked for your help, Walker. I appreciate what you’ve done for me, but I can take care of myself.” Tori refused to look away from his penetrating gaze.
Lucas shook his head, a thoroughly perplexed look on his face. “A year alone up here in the high country addled your brain,” he said. “No one in their right mind lives like this, all alone.”
Tori’s hands shot to her hips, and she leaned forward. “I bet you wouldn’t say that if I were a man,” she hissed between gritted teeth. “I’ve had just about enough of you and your bossy attitude. Since you came here, you’ve done nothing but order me around. I won’t stand for it any longer. Finish stripping your kill, then be gone with you.” Her voice rose with each word she uttered. The nerve of that man.
She wheeled around. She’d had about enough of him. Intent on locking him out of the cabin, she stormed off. A strong hand clamped around her arm, stopping her efforts to put some distance between herself and Lucas Walker. No sooner had he pulled her to a stop, when an arrow whirred through the air, narrowly missing Lucas. She had no time to react when he threw her to the ground and fell on top of her. Pain shot through her chest at the impact, and she winced.
“Dammit,” he growled. He glanced up, looking around the clearing.
“Don’t move,” Lucas commanded, and in the next instant, sprang to his feet and sprinted for the log where she’d propped his Sharpe’s a few minutes ago. Another arrow shot through the air, and he dodged it at the last second. Lucas crouched behind the log, and aimed into the trees. The noise of his shot echoed through the otherwise quiet of the clearing. He dashed toward her and hauled her off the ground, then darted for the cabin. Anoth
er arrow flew past.
Tori turned her head just in time to catch a glimpse of an Indian rushing between the trees some distance from the cabin. She recognized him instantly.
“Black Sparrow. Run,” she called. Her Indian friend’s arrows would be no match against Lucas’ rifle.
Lucas shot her a split-second perplexed look. He released her and spun around, raised his rifle, and fired. “Sonofabitch Blackfoot,” he grumbled under his breath.
“Get out of here, Black Sparrow,” Tori called again. Lucas grabbed for her, and pushed her in front of him.
“Stop shooting at him,” she demanded, and kicked at Lucas when he wouldn’t ease his grip.
They reached the cabin, and Lucas elbowed the door open. Releasing her, he turned, swiftly reloaded his rifle, and fired into the trees again. A faint cry tore through the air.
“Got ya, you bastard,” Lucas called triumphantly.
Tori kicked forcefully at his legs.
“Stop your fighting and get inside the cabin, woman, before we both get killed.” He cursed loudly when her foot connected with his shin. “Dammit, Tori, what the hell is wrong with you?”
He shoved her backwards inside the cabin in front of him. Tori dug her heels into the dirt, refusing to be manhandled. She shot a quick glance over his shoulder, and caught a glimpse of Black Sparrow. He was clutching at his arm.
“Save yourself,” she called, just as Lucas released her and spun around. He aimed his rifle again. Tori had seen enough of his skills as a marksman to realize that his next shot would be fatal. Without hesitating, she did the only thing she could think of at the moment to divert Walker’s attention. She lunged at him from the side, and clutched his cheeks between her hands, then pulled his head around to face her. She pressed her lips to his mouth. Wide-eyed, she stared over his shoulder, just in time to see the warrior dart through the trees away from the cabin.
Lucas grabbed her arms and pried her away from him.
“What the hell did you do that for?” The perplexed look on his face belied the anger in his voice. He pushed her fully into the cabin, and kicked the door shut behind him. “Why the hell did you let him get away?” he roared.
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