Stone Dreaming Woman

by Lael R. Neill

  Jenny noticed the warmth that came to Shane’s voice whenever he spoke of his grandfather. “Of course,” she agreed. “Let’s go.”

  As they rode, the roar of the rapids drew nearer and nearer. Shane again took a detour from the trail, this time drawing up beside a raging torrent of white water that crashed over huge boulders and boiled and frothed between them. Jenny felt the spray cold on her face in spite of the warm day.

  “I’d hate to fall in there,” she said, raising her voice to be heard above the din of the furious water.

  “If you did, it would be the last thing you’d ever do. Nobody could get out of that alive. We’ve had half a dozen drownings here that I remember.”

  “I can believe it,” she replied, looking at the raging river.

  “Then you’re really not going to believe how calm it is farther up. Come on.” Heeling Midnight’s flanks, he turned upriver, following a game trail that rejoined the main path as it started to climb. They went over a small rise, and the noise of the rapids faded into the distance. The horses’ hooves sounded hollow on the deep duff beneath the trees. Then the trail descended back toward the river in a series of narrow switchbacks. The trees came to an abrupt line, and she found herself in a small, clear meadow where grass grew several inches high. Here the river ran in a deep, quiet pool the color of liquid emeralds, bounded by a clifflike rocky outcropping on the upstream side, a sharp defile on the opposite bank, and a gravel bar downstream. Ferns hung in clusters in the crevices of the outcropping, while swallows darted down the gorge to feed on flying insects. The shallow river bank was finely washed gravel, warmed by the sun, which was just now touching the depths of the gorge. She sat staring around in awe, but evidently he was accustomed to the place. He guided Midnight forward and loosened the reins to let him drink. Fleur crossed the gravel carefully, lowered her muzzle, and took a long, noisy slurp while Jenny dismounted.

  “This is beautiful, Shane. I’ve never seen anything like this except in pictures.”

  “I’ll see to the horses. If you’re thirsty, go out on that rock and get a drink. The water’s cold, even this time of year.” He indicated a huge, glacier-scarred boulder next to the jutting cliff. The gravel crunched beneath her boots as she walked across the shingle and climbed out on the chunk of grey, polished granite. She flopped down on the warm rock, pulled off her scarf, and immersed her face in the emerald water. The cold was so sharp that it stabbed at her temples and eyelids. She shook her head quickly and wiped her face on her scarf, then leaned over to cup her hand for a drink. A flicker of motion deep in the water caught her attention. She sat up slowly, looking down into the clear water. The shadow was a fish that evidently lived beneath the overhanging rock. She watched as it swam lazily out, headed into the current, and hung suspended above the graveled bottom. She looked over her shoulder and beckoned to Shane, who left his saddlebags on the bank and climbed up onto the rock beside her.

  “Look! There’s a huge fish down there!” she said in a stage whisper.

  “You don’t have to whisper, you know. Fish can’t hear.” He dropped to the rock beside her.

  “He’s right there. See?” Shane went belly-down for a better look and followed her pointing finger.

  “That’s a big fish, all right. It looks like a Rainbow, but I can’t be certain that far down. It could be a Cutthroat or a Dolly. Whichever, it’d be nice in a frying pan.”

  “Do you ever fish here, then?”

  “All the time. I’m going to have my eye on that one, too. I’ll bet it weighs three pounds.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Things look a fourth larger under water. Besides, three pounds is a big trout.” The sun made a spiky Statue of Liberty halo behind her head as she leaned over to look into the green water again.

  “Let’s go have our lunch. I’m hungry,” he said after the trout had taken refuge back under the rock. He gave her his hand as she stepped off the boulder, and they went back to the meadow, where they sat against a large log stranded on the bank by spring high water. He handed her a sandwich from his saddlebag. It was cold roast beef on freshly baked bread, sharp with the tang of Dijon mustard. She gazed out over the river and watched the swallows. Occasionally they belly-flopped in the clear water. He explained that was how they bathed. They were pert little birds with deep green backs and greyish underbellies, and she marveled at the agile way they flew, darting madly every which way and never colliding.

  Their lunch ended with cheese and fruit, and as she picked at the remains of an apple, he flicked pebbles out into the water like a small boy. He seemed so at home in the woods that she could not imagine him spending the better part of six years in a large city like Ottawa.

  “Shane? Was it hard for you to leave Elk Gap to go to college?” she asked idly. His face clouded.

  “Terribly. I was very young and…and not exactly naïve, but so inexperienced. I was only sixteen, and homesickness literally made me ill. It would have made it easier for me if I had been able to correspond with my grandparents, but they were both illiterate. Angus was the only person I could write to. Things did get better after I was eligible to play hockey, but college life still had its rough moments. I’m glad I stuck it out, though. Without my law degree, I’d probably still be a constable.”

  They were on the trail again within half an hour. Fleur seemed rested and perky as they climbed back up the trail. She picked up her hooves smartly and was obviously asking for a good canter when they reached the main trail again.

  “What did you feed that mare while my back was turned?” he asked. “She’s all full of pep.”

  “I’d love to let her run. She acts like she needs it.” She reached down and stroked the satiny shoulder.

  “We’ll have to wait until we get on the trail between Thomas’s ranch and North Village. That’s a couple hours, because we want to stop and see the falls, and we have to go home by the trail to the lake. I didn’t tell you, but there’s a good-sized lake upstream from the falls.”

  “Oh, my! I’m going to see all the great scenery. Will there be any left for later?”

  He grinned. “All of my territory is this wonderful. Too bad I can’t take you on rounds with me.”

  “You know, Shane, I’d love that. But it would be a little too daring, even for a medical doctor.”

  “Maybe. I’m riding rounds next month. For some reason strange things always happen in August. Paul and I have come to call it the August Curse. We’ve had escaped convicts, we’ve had to swim to an island in the middle of a lake to escape a forest fire, and the first time Paul went on August rounds with me his horse went over a cliff, fell on Paul, and broke his leg.”

  “It sounds like you could have used a doctor with you then.”

  “Well, his horse broke its back and I had to shoot it, and I had a dickens of a time getting Paul back to civilization. I wound up taking him to Thomas’s place and bringing Angus up there, which of course he couldn’t do now. But giving credit where it’s due, Paul was brave about it. He never let out a peep.”

  “He seems to have healed well.”

  “Oh, he’s fine now. It was just a grand scare all around.”

  “I’d never deny that police work is dangerous.”

  “I wouldn’t either. You’ve seen that firsthand. And I’m glad it doesn’t frighten you, Jenny.”

  She remembered the night of the box social and knew what he was talking about. “No. You wouldn’t be who and what you are if you weren’t a police officer, and I’d not change you by so much as a hair.” He gave her a grateful smile.

  Singing Water Falls was as much a surprise as the pool above the rapids had been. It was part of the same gorge, but the entire river dropped at least forty feet in a torrent that had gouged out a roily basin beneath it. Heavy shoulders of rock jutted, fern-hung, on either side of the tumbling water, where it fell into a plunge pool studded with huge, water-worn boulders. Without speaking, he pointed to the cliff across the river. Just at the ed
ge stood a group of four does with fawns. She held her breath, lest the scene disappear before her eyes. It was so other-worldly that she half expected to see fairies or wood nymphs peeking out from behind the ferns.

  “After how beautiful the river is farther on down… Shane, I just can’t believe this. I just can’t.”

  “There’s a cave behind the falls, too. The North Village children play in it a lot. I wonder why nobody has ever drowned here. I think every little boy around has fallen in at least once. There’s a saying, though, that the Lord looks after idiots and children.”

  “Did you ever fall in?”

  He laughed merrily. “At least twice a month all summer! I must have been an idiot when I was a child. I got so daring that after a while when we played I’d fall in on purpose just to frighten everyone.” She envisioned a clean-limbed, sun-browned little boy with glowing black hair and more than a spark of mischief in his eyes. Then she remembered her own girlhood and how her daring stunts had nearly driven her poor Aunt Martha to distraction.

  “If I’d been there I’d have been right behind you. I was never the one to sit back and let the boys have all the fun. In fact, when I was nine, some older boys built a sled jump on a hill not far from our house. I was terribly angry when they wouldn’t let me on it because I was a girl, so one night I waited until everyone went home and I went off the jump. I was so light it threw me over the landing, and I hit a tree and knocked myself out cold.”

  “Is that how you got that little scar under your chin?” Her hand automatically went to a tiny indentation under her chin, and she remembered Mavis telling her that Shane was nothing if not observant.

  “No, that was from racing with my cousin on ice skates. I tripped over my toe pick and landed face first. Father had to sew up my chin. But I didn’t think it showed that much.”

  “It doesn’t. I never noticed it until I lifted you down from your sidesaddle at church.”

  “Well, I was quite a tomboy. I used to get mad when anybody said I couldn’t do something because I was a girl. I even got in fights. You wouldn’t have liked me at all if you’d known me then.”

  “I like you now, and you’re still that way,” he said with an impish grin.

  “You keep that up, and you see if I ever go to another ball with you.”

  “We need to get back on the trail. We’ll come here again, the first day we both have free.”

  “I’ll take that for a promise, then. I’ll even make lunch.” She took one last long look at the falls, where the water sparkled and danced and made rainbows in the spray drifting up from the pool. Then she looked up at the cliff and saw the does disappear. Presently he touched Midnight’s flanks.

  “Do we have to leave already?” she sighed.

  “I’m afraid so. I don’t mind riding at night, and eventually I’ll feel confident that you and Fleur can handle it, but not tonight. The moon won’t be up until well after midnight, and it’s going to be really dark.” Reluctantly she reined Fleur around as he turned Midnight. He sensed it when her heart sank a little. “Don’t worry. We’ll come back soon when we can stay a while. I promised you, after all.”

  With a sigh, she directed Fleur in behind Midnight and they climbed back toward the trees.

  The sun had moved measurably in the sky when he steered off the trail again. She had noticed the trees ahead had thinned, but she thought little of it. Then she realized they must be near the lake he had told her about. None too soon, either, she thought. I’m at the point of having to ask him to make a necessary stop for me. Soon they broke out into a lush meadow surrounding a lake that was actually rather large, considering its location. High hills reared their heads to the northeast, but the lake itself was calm and glassy.

  Shane halted Midnight and bounced down, then helped Jenny out of her saddle. He tied both horses to a convenient sapling and tactfully went one way into the brush, leaving her to go the other. She chose a suitably secluded spot to relieve herself, then she wandered down to the water’s edge, trying to find a place deep enough to wash her hands without wading in. Finally she climbed out onto a fallen log and rinsed her hands and face. This time she dried her hands on her skirt and blotted her face with her sleeve. As she carefully picked her way back to the shore, a rustling sound in the bushes to her left distracted her. Curious, she followed it, finding a half-grown bear comically scratching its rump on another of the many fallen logs. She looked back for Shane and found him standing next to Midnight. Just as she started to call to him, a growl and a simultaneous crashing came from the undergrowth directly ahead of her. She stood rooted as a full-grown sow grizzly erupted perhaps thirty yards away. The horrific scene was playing out in slow motion. Grabbing his Winchester, Shane raced toward her.

  “Jenny! Run! This way!” he screamed. Her trance snapped and she flew toward him. He continued to shout at her, trying to distract the bear as it closed the distance between them. It was perhaps a scant fifteen feet away when he dived. His left elbow hit Jenny, knocking her backward. He rolled to his right, brought the rifle up in one motion, and, firing from the prone, he snapped off a shot just as the bear started up on its hind legs. The big Winchester roared, its muzzle flash shattering the day.

  The bear collapsed, skidding on its chest before it somersaulted past him and landed a few feet shy of the waterline. Just as Jenny considered picking herself up from the gravel, he shouldered the rifle again. She decided to stay put. Then she saw the exit wound the .303 had left, directly on top of the shaggy neck behind the skull, and the odd angle the bear’s head made with its body. There was no doubt in her mind the animal was dead. His perfect shot had shattered the first cervical vertebra.

  The silence around Jenny was a palpable thing, a weight holding her down. She watched him as he lowered the rifle and climbed unsteadily to his feet. At the same time she picked herself up and ran to him, flattening herself to his chest. He laid the rifle down and wrapped his arms around her, steadying her as she trembled against him. For a moment she sobbed silently, tears forced from her by sheer terror. He wrapped his arms around her as far as they would go.

  “It’s all right now, Jenny. It’s dead. You’re safe. We’re both safe,” he said gently.

  “Oh, Shane…”

  “Shhh. C’est fini. Just hold me for a while, non? Tout… C’est bon. C’est bon.” His English slipped away in the face of the close brush with death. She gulped and got hold of herself by main force, willing the head-to-toe shaking to stop.

  “You saved my life…”

  His hand pressed her head to his shoulder to silence her, and she felt his face against her hair. Then her initial fright passed, and she relaxed against him.

  “Are you all right?” he asked at length. “I hit you pretty hard.”

  “I’m fine. But are you? It looked like that thing fell right on top of you.”

  “It didn’t touch me. But that was way too close for comfort.” Thoroughly terrified, she clung to him, listening to his racing heart. He drew a shaky breath. “I see I’m going to have to give you a lesson about bears. Are you sure you’re all right? Like I said, I knocked you down hard.” She backed off to arm’s length.

  “Well, aside from being frightened out of ten years’ growth…”

  “You’re not the only one! That’s about the biggest grizzly I’ve seen in years. Do you know what she would have done to you? If she’d caught up with you, you wouldn’t have lasted a minute. Jenny, if you ever see a bear cub, the mother is right there someplace, and they’re as mean as piggy sows and a heck of a lot bigger. I know cubs can be cute, but stay away from them.” She took his shaking hands in hers, recognizing the unsteadiness as the aftermath of adrenaline wearing away.

  “I think we’d both better sit down a minute,” she said with a sigh. He led her to the shoreline, and they sank down side by side. He stretched out on the sand, deliberately laying his head in her lap, and closed his eyes. She looked down at him, noticing that his face was still white with shock, an
d he had grass in his hair. Gently she brushed it away, toying idly with the mussed wave that slopped over the right side of his forehead. She had nearly coaxed it into place when he opened his eyes and smiled up at her. Guiltily she jerked her hand back.

  “Don’t quit,” he murmured. She deliberated, hearing Aunt Martha tut-tutting in a compartment in her mind. Then she shut the door on her aunt and combed her fingers through his heavy, satiny hair.

  “Shane, that bear could have killed you,” she said at length.

  “Either of us, or both.” Reluctantly he sat up. “But there’s no use worrying about that now. Everything turned out all right, so don’t let it frighten you. But now do you see why I carry that rifle around? I’d hate to think what would have happened if all I had was this.” He patted the blue .45 on his hip. “Come on. Let’s take a look at what you were up against.” He rose and gave her a hand.

  The bear lay stretched out on the sandy beach, looking much larger than Jenny had thought. He bent down and picked up one forepaw, and the curving, scythelike claws nearly made her ill.

  “Not only that, but they have teeth, too.” He lifted a flew with his thumb, baring a huge, yellowed canine that looked as long as her little finger. Then he ran a hand over the gleaming fur. Jenny saw that what she had interpreted as grey was actually an overlay of silvery-white guard hairs over denser brown undercoat. “This is a prime pelt, too. Too bad we can’t take it with us. The North Village people would appreciate it. This bear’s in good condition.”

  “Why can’t we take it with us?”

  “It’d take me a good two or three hours to skin it out. We haven’t that kind of time.”

  “If you have an extra knife I’ll help you. Just show me what to do.”

  “I do carry a spare, but I don’t want you to help me. Skinning’s messy, smelly, and bloody, and this hide is probably full of ticks.”

  He looked surprised when she laughed. “Shane, I’m a surgeon! I know how to handle a knife! I’ve cleaned up a lot of really disgusting messes, autopsied a corpse that had been under water for two weeks in August, and blood doesn’t bother me in the least!”