Yellowstone Redemption

by Peggy L Henderson

  She found him shivering under the covers. It was a good sign. His body was responding again, working to warm itself up. When a person suffered from exposure and didn’t shiver, it was always a bad sign.

  He’d worked his arms loose of the covers, and Sarah was about to readjust them. A glimpse at his dirty shirt gave her another thought. Should she dare? Oh, this was ridiculous! This man needed care, and propriety be damned. She’d helped her mother plenty of times with injured men. She certainly had seen plenty of bare chests. She hastily went back to the main room and set more water over the fire to heat, and found some clean washrags. When she returned, his shivering had slowed. She carefully pulled the covers further down. How would she be able to remove his shirt? He was a big man, probably taller than her father.

  She inhaled deeply and tucked his shirt up, rotating his heavy body from side to side to work it up his back. The sun had burned the skin on his back. She worked the shirt over his head. A thin silver chain hung around his neck, with a couple of rectangular pendants. She picked up the pendants. They were plain looking, nothing someone would wear as an adornment. Something that looked like a long row of numbers was etched into them. Carefully, she laid the pendants back on his chest.

  Remembering her task, she finished removing his shirt, setting the now-cold water bags aside. His long muscular arms were solid and heavy as she worked them through the sleeves. She hurried to retrieve her hot water and rags, then began washing the man’s chest and arms. She tried not to stare, but he was beautiful to look at. His muscles were well defined, his shoulders wide. She was about to scrub harder at what she thought was stubborn dirt caked to his chest just above his heart, then realized it was a marking. She wiped at it, and the black image of a scorpion emerged.

  Sarah stared anew. She’d seen tattoos before, but nothing that looked as real as this. The image was a perfect depiction of a scorpion, it’s pincers held wide open, and the tail curved over the body, ready to strike. Tentatively, she touched it with her hand. His skin still felt cool, but the man was definitely warming up.

  “Stared enough?”

  The raspy voice sent her leaping off the edge of the bed, sloshing the water in her bowl over the floor.

  “I….I didn’t realize you were awake,” she said awkwardly, averting her eyes. She heard the blankets scrape against each other and the mattress on her bed groan. She glanced up to see him push himself to a sitting position.

  “Damn.” He touched his forehead. “What the hell happened?”

  “You must have been caught in the storm two days ago. You were lucky the Absarokas found you and brought you here.” Sarah bent and reached for the bowl on the ground. The water had already seeped through the cracks in the wooden slats.

  She kept a weary eye on the man in the bed. He was still too weak to be a threat, but Sarah’s hand instinctively felt for her knife, reassured that it was securely strapped to her hip.

  “Two days ago? Shit. Where am I?”

  “The Madison River Valley,” she answered.

  The man shot her a perplexed look. “Madison? Why the hell there? Why not just take me to Canyon? They have a medical clinic.”

  It was Sarah’s turn to look perplexed. This man must not be right in his head yet. Unsure what else to say, she asked, “would you like some food? Some strong meat broth will help you warm up.”

  “Yeah. Sure,” he answered absently.

  Sarah hurried from the room, eager to put some space between herself and this strange man.

  Chapter 4

  Chase sat up, leaning his head back against the wooden logs that made up the walls in this room. He glanced around. Where the hell was he? This was definitely not a medical clinic. It looked like a scene out of an old west movie. The dim room had one small glass-paned window, and from what he could tell, it was getting dark outside. A simple wooden dresser stood on the wall opposite the bed. Was that a bearskin rug on the ground? Chase shook his head. The coverings on the bed were mostly hides and furs as well. A bunch of Native American-looking knick-knacks hung on the wall.

  A slow smile spread across his face. Okay. He’d bite. Todd and the other boys were trying to pull one over on him again. Complete with a cute little Indian nurse. The dark-haired beauty certainly completed the scene. Her mahogany hair was braided in one long rope down her back from what he’d seen. Her pants looked like fringed buckskins, complete with moccasins. Her cream-colored shirt fit loosely and was held together at her waist with a belt. Was that a real knife he’d noticed hanging off the belt? Shit, this could get mighty interesting. She looked vaguely familiar to him. She probably worked at one of the concession stores at Canyon. You’re losing it, Russell. A cute little chick like that, and you didn’t take a closer look before? Well, maybe they could get better acquainted now.

  He pulled himself further into a sitting position. His head spun. Damn. He hadn’t felt weak like this since that one year he caught the flu. That had been a nasty strain, and Chase had been laid up in the hospital for a week. He’d missed almost a month of football practice. That was during his freshman year in high school. He’d been surprised the coach had kept him on the team. But Coach Beckman had always believed in him. Always told him to strive to be better. He’d been more of a father figure than his old man. He sure missed him. Right after the end of senior year, after Chase was announced all-star quarterback, the coach had had a massive heart attack. It had been quite a shock. Maybe he wouldn’t be here right now if coach Beckman was still alive.

  Chase heard a squeaking at the door, and looked up. His cute little nurse was back. She held a steaming wooden bowl and spoon in one hand, and a rustic-looking lamp in the other. Their eyes met. She didn’t smile. Her eyes were large and round, but damn, if they weren’t the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. A vague memory tapped his brain. A dark-haired, blue-eyed angel staring intently at him while he was flat on his back.

  She set the lamp on the little table next to the bed, and held the bowl out to him. “This might be a little hot. But it will warm you.”

  “Thanks.” He took the bowl from her, and set it on his lap. She was about to turn and walk away. Without even thinking, his hand snaked out and grabbed her around the wrist, pulling her down on the bed. “What’s the rush, Pocahontas? Stay and keep me company. I’ll let you feed me, if you’d like.” He flashed a grin that he knew worked on girls every time.

  He had no idea how it happened, but the next thing he knew, he was staring at the pointy tip of a huge hunting knife. And it looked razor sharp. The girl had it pointed inches from his jugular. Chase scooted back in surprise. The fast movement caused the bowl on his lap to spill.

  “Holy shit!” He jumped to the side and tumbled off the bed on the opposite side, landing on the floor with a loud thud. Damn, that soup was hot. And it had spilled all over his pants, scalding his family jewels. He hastily unbuttoned and unzipped his shorts, hoping to minimize the damage. Kicking the shorts off his legs, he pulled himself off the ground. His boxers were wet, but at least not hot where it counted. He peered up and over the bed. The girl was gone.

  “Damn, Russell. What the hell was that about.” He’d certainly never gotten a reaction like that from a girl. One of the benefits of being a star athlete. All the chicks wanted to go out with you. He was used to girls – cute or otherwise – to flaunt themselves at him. Having a knife pointed at his throat was an entirely new experience.

  Can you blame her, Russell? She helps you out and you act like you want to get it on with her between the sheets. Well, maybe that thought had crossed his mind, but he was in no condition to follow through with such a thought. At least not at the moment. Hell, his balls had been nearly frozen off, and now he’d almost cooked them. Maybe he wouldn’t be in any condition for quite a while.

  He ran his hand over his face. The two-day -old stubble felt rough against his hand. He had to look like hell. What he needed was a good long soak in a hot shower. He bent down and picked up his shorts. They were still we
t, but at least the moisture was cold now. He pulled them back on, since it was all he had to wear.

  Time to go make nice with the little Indian princess. Guilt nagged him. His actions had been rather rude, he admitted. He didn’t know what made him do something stupid like that. Her deep blue eyes flashed before him, the look of concern on her face when he’d been barely conscious. Angel. Yeah, hell’s angel.

  Chase walked to the door on unsteady legs. He hated this weak feeling. His stomach growled. How long had he not eaten anything?

  You could have had something to eat, you jerk. There was food right in front of you, but you had to act like an ass.

  He slowly opened the door and peered into the next room. It was more or less a larger version of the one he was in now. Except for the huge fireplace to his right. Everything looked old fashioned and rustic. Any minute now, Hoss and Little Joe Cartwright would walk through that front door. A lantern glowed on the large table in the middle of the room, casting large shadows on the wall, and another lamp sat on a smaller table by the front door. The last light of day was visible through the large glass-paned window to his left.

  His angel was nowhere to be seen. A board of the wooded floor creaked when he stepped on it. The fire crackled warmly in the fireplace. The scene gave him an odd homely feeling. How had Todd found this place? Was this one of the tourist cabins? The ones he’d seen looked nothing like this. They weren’t even cabins, really. This place felt like a…home.

  The front door opened, and a huge shaggy dog padded in, followed closely by his angel. The dog walked up to him eagerly, and licked his hand. Chase backed up. Those teeth looked like they could do some serious damage.

  He glanced up at the girl. She carried a wooden bucket sloshing with water to the bench against the back wall. She heaved the bucket up onto the bench, her arms trembling from the effort. It had to be pretty heavy.

  “Can I help?” he asked lamely after the bucket was already on the bench, and took a slow step in her direction.

  She wheeled around to face him, the knife drawn from her belt so fast, he’d barely seen the movement. She held it out protectively in front of her. He stopped in his tracks, and held his hands out in front of him.

  “Look. Sorry about back there.” He gestured with his head towards the bedroom. “I thought you were part of the setup.” She said nothing, merely staring at him with her eyes ablaze. Her small hand didn’t waver, the knife held in a firm grasp. She didn’t appear nervous. In fact, she looked pretty confident with that weapon in her hand.

  Chase sized her up. He could tackle her easily. Of course, she’d probably do some damage to him in the process. He wasn’t about to risk getting sliced open on top of everything else that had happened to him in the last couple of days. Man, what did he do to deserve all this? Something cold and wet brushed against his leg, and Chase peered at the shaggy dog, which was intent on sniffing his pants. He must smell like that soup he’d dumped all over himself.

  “Listen,” he tried again. “Can I just use your phone and I’ll have someone pick me up.” Why the hell did she look at him like he was from another planet? It was getting rather annoying. “You can cut the act, alright? I’ll be out of your hair as soon as someone picks me up. Or would you like me to walk back to Canyon in the dark?” Somehow he figured that’s exactly what she’d tell him. He began to wonder if she was daft. She’d sounded normal earlier. But she hadn’t made a sound since coming in from outdoors.

  Chase lifted his arm and cupped the back of his head with his hand. Her eyes widened, and she pointed the knife at him. Okay. Wrong move. He slowly lowered his arm again.

  “What’s your deal? I wish you’d say something.” Girls usually chatted his ear off. And now he actually wanted one to talk.

  She moved sideways, circling him. He realized she was giving herself an opening. Where she’d stood this entire time, he effectively had her cornered. Jeez! She moved like a lithe ballet dancer. Her feet barely touched the ground.

  “You have companions nearby?” Finally, she spoke.

  “Yeah, they’ll come and get me. I thought Todd was playing a joke on me, but it looks like I was wrong. You mentioned someone found me and brought me here. Is this place part of the park service?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You lie,” she stated firmly. “The Absaroka warriors said you were alone. There was no one else.”

  Chase’s brows furrowed, and he shook his head. “Absaroka war…what?”

  “White trappers call them Crows,” she stated as if he was the idiot who didn’t know anything. He raised his eyebrows.

  “Okay,” he inhaled deeply, and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Could you cut the Indian maiden act? I don’t know if you’re part of some tourist attraction or what, but I need to get back to the barracks. Hell, I’m probably already in some serious shit.” As an afterthought, he added, “Mind if I sit down?” he pointed to one of the chairs at the table. “I’m still not feeling a hundred percent.” She nodded slowly, and moved to the opposite side of the table.

  He pulled out a chair and eased himself into it. His head spun like a top on a slick surface. His stomach rumbled noisily. The smell of soup lingered in the room.

  “You can put that little butter knife away. I told you I made the wrong assumption.” And the wrong impression. He watched her trying to come to a decision. Finally, she did lower the knife and stick it back in the sheath at her hip. God, she was cute.

  “Grizzly won’t hesitate to attack if I tell him to,” she said, her voice full of warning.

  Grizzly? Oh, she must mean the mutt.

  “I’ll keep it in mind.” He flashed her a smile, and for a second her eyes widened again. Yeah, he knew he had that effect on chicks. This one wasn’t any different.

  “So, can I use your phone?” he asked again. The silence was unnerving.

  Her forehead crinkled, and she shook her head.

  “Come on, you’ve got to have a telephone around here? How about a payphone? Madison has a campground. Are we anywhere near that?”

  “The Tukudeka are camped a half day’s ride from here.”

  “The what?” Okay, this was getting a bit ridiculous. He didn’t mind a little game, but she was carrying her act a bit too far. “Look, angel, my head is pounding, I haven’t eaten in two or more days, apparently I almost froze to death, and, as you can see,” he gestured at his nude torso, “I barely have any clothes on. Can we just skip the act? How much is Todd paying you for this? I’ll double it.”

  She shot him a defiant look, her chin raised. Finally, maybe they were getting somewhere. “I know nothing of what you’re asking me. Three warriors brought you here this morning. They could have left you for dead. I’m sure they will be back to extract payment for their kindness.”

  Chase pinched the top of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. He wished for daylight so he could walk out of here. In the dark, he’d only get lost again before he reached the highway. He definitely didn’t want a repeat of the day before.

  “Okay, fine.” He inhaled deeply. “Can I at least use the bathroom and clean up?”

  The look on her face made him groan. “Let me guess. There’s no bathroom.”

  “We usually bathe in the river,” she answered. “There is no special room for that.” The honest, down to earth way she spoke to him couldn’t be acted, could it? They stared at each other from across the table, and Chase felt his insides tighten. He was lost in her blue eyes. There was nothing pretentious about this girl. Her simple outfit, her braided hair, her radiant face devoid of any make-up – all of it added to her beauty. She was natural and wholesome, unlike any girl he’d ever met before. Something about her stirred a deep longing within him, something he couldn’t quite define.

  “You have never been in these mountains before, have you?” She was perceptive, too.

  Chase shook his head. “I’m from L.A. I had no idea people still live like this, even in Montana.” That still didn’t explain her reference to warriors
. Was she talking about actual Indians? Or some sort of road warriors, like a motorcycle gang.

  “L….. A?”

  A wide smile spread across his face. Boy, was she backwoods.

  “Yeah. Los Angeles. Big city. No mountains and rivers. I’m definitely out of my element here.”

  “How did you get lost along the E-chee-dick-karsh-ah-shay?”

  “The what?”

  “The Roche Jaune….Yellow Rock River.”

  Comprehension dawned. “You mean the Yellowstone River? Some buddies and I were camping in the canyon. The next morning, they were gone. I climbed out and apparently got lost looking for the road back to Canyon.” No need to go into detail with her that he was drunk out of his mind the night before, or that his buddies had deliberately pulled a vanishing act on him.

  “You climbed out from the canyon? How did you get down there? ” Her eyes grew round in disbelief.

  “Same way I came up, angel. I know that wasn’t the smartest thing to do. I’ll probably get in a heap of trouble for it.”

  Chase’s stomach growled loudly. The little angel must have heard it. She made a wide arc around him to the workbench along the wall, and reached for a bowl on a wooden shelf above her head, giving him an enticing view of her backside. Knock it off, Russell. Get your mind out of the gutter.

  She ladled soup into the bowl from the kettle in the fireplace, and set it in front of him along with a spoon. He looked up and met her eyes.

  “Do you have a name?” she asked softly.

  “I’m sorry. My name’s Chase.”

  A smile spread across her pretty face, and he suppressed a groan. Then she giggled. “That’s an odd name. What do you chase?”

  He couldn’t help but smile in return. “Uh…I don’t know. No one’s ever asked me that before.”