“Wouldn’t it be easier just to climb over these logs?” he finally asked. He stopped and swiped his arm across his damp forehead.
“No.”
Well, fine! What the hell was she trying to prove? He inhaled deeply, and sprinted after her. Chasing a girl through a forest in the middle of nowhere was an entirely new experience. Grinning, he caught up with her, but was soon forced to fall back as the forest closed in around them.
“Aren’t we going in the wrong direction?” he called, watching her dark braid sway seductively back and forth as she ran. He tried to keep his eyes above her belt line.
“You want the fastest route to the canyon. This is it,” she shouted over her shoulder.
Chase shook his head. His lungs started to burn. He definitely wasn’t used to the thin high altitude air. Hell would freeze over before he conceded to her, though. Thankfully, the dense forest forced her to slow down to a jog rather than the blistering pace she’d been setting. He completely lost all sense of direction. He sure hoped she knew where she was going.
Chase guessed they had been running through the forest for at least an hour when the trees cleared and gave way to what looked like a thermal area. Sarah slowed to a walk.
“Step only where I do,” she warned. He stayed close behind her. How did she know where to safely walk? The ground took on a moon-like appearance, the dirt gray or almost white as snow, and steam rose from vents in the ground all around them. The air was thick with the smell of sulphur, and the ground bubbled and hissed all around. It took the better part of a half hour to cross the basin, and then the landscape opened up to a lush meadow. Bison roamed everywhere. To the right, a wide creek flowed.
“What now?” Chase asked, his eyes scanning the distance. He leaned forward and rested his hands on his thighs. She shot him a puzzled look, so he pointed at the bison.
“We go around.”
He rolled his eyes. Of course, why didn’t he think of that? She resumed her fast jog, skirting the outer reaches of the bison herd. He felt the burn of lactic acid build-up in his legs. The landscape began a gradual uphill climb, back into forest. There seemed to be no end to Sarah’s endurance. Jeez! This girl was tough. She wasn’t even breathing hard. He gritted his teeth as sweat ran down his face.
Finally reaching the top of the plateau, she slowed to a walk. She had no choice. The forest was endless and dense. Chase’s eyes widened in surprise when the trees suddenly gave way to a small lake.
“Fill your water bag here,” Sarah said. She knelt at the lakeshore to fill her own water bag. The mutt lapped up water, churning up the mud as he traipsed along the shore. Chase came up beside Sarah and splashed water on his face. He sighed loudly at the refreshing coolness on his hot face. He watched Sarah out of the corner of his eyes, looking as fresh as she had when they left the cabin. She had just corked her bag, when he flicked some water at her. He grinned when she shot him an angry look, and stormed off into the trees.
“Come on, angel, lighten up. Where’s your sense of humor?” he called after her.
“Don’t follow me. I’ll be right back,” she replied. He got the message. He walked along the lakeshore a ways and veered off into the trees, too. When he returned, she was waiting, sitting on a large boulder. Chase headed towards her, his eyes to the ground. He stopped. Large animal tracks were imprinted in the earth around him. Chase stepped into one. The print was longer than his foot. He guessed a bear made them.
“Hey, Sarah, look at these. Are these grizzly bear tracks?” Suddenly he was glad for her mini arsenal of weaponry.
Sarah hopped off her perch, and strode over to him, looking where he pointed. “Black bear,” she answered confidently after a quick glance.
“How do you know?”
“The claw marks are too small to be grizzly.” She knelt down and touched one of the prints. “The toes have gaps between them, see? Grizzly toes are closer together, and their long claws leave an impression.”
She rose to her feet, and their eyes met briefly. The familiar tightening in his gut whenever he looked at her tugged at him again. She turned away. Chase clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to pull her to him and kiss her again. A real kiss, not a quick smack on the lips.
“Are you ready to continue, or do you need to rest some more?”
He could stretch out here on this lakeshore and sleep for the rest of the day, but he wasn’t about to admit that to her. “Whenever you’re ready, angel.”
She shot him a skeptical look, then walked ahead, keeping to the water’s edge. “The going will be easier for a while,” she called over her back. “We are on top of a plateau. Then we will climb one more mountain before it descends into the valley of the Roche Jaune.” Chase jogged to catch up with her. She cast him a sideways glance. “From there, it will not be far to the canyon.”
By the time they reached the valley, the sun sat low in the western horizon. Rolling green hills as far as the eye could see, with more forest in the distance. Chase recognized what would be called Hayden Valley in his time. This had been one of his favorite spots in the park. The Yellowstone River lazily meandered through the valley on its northerly course. The peaceful river here belied the strong forces of nature a few miles to the north, where the calm waters would suddenly plunge several hundred feet into a deep scar in the earth, not once, but two times. Conspicuously absent from here, though, was the two-lane highway that ran through this valley. More bison dotted the landscape. Chase scanned the vastness of the land, desperately searching and listening for anything modern. All he heard were insects and an occasional bird.
“We’re almost there, aren’t we?” he finally asked. Sarah nodded. “A few more miles to the north is the canyon. We will make camp there, and you can search for your companions in the morning.”
Chase stared into the distance. He hoped climbing back into the canyon would get him home. Whatever had brought him here had to be his ticket out as well, and it had to be in that canyon. But how would he recognize what he was looking for?
Chapter 8
Sarah gathered an armful of kindling and tree branches for a fire. Darkness would be upon them soon, and she wanted to have camp set up before all the light disappeared. They had made good time all day, though. There had been moments when she’d doubted if Chase could keep up with the pace she set. He had stubbornly refused to tell her to slow down, so she’d pushed on even faster. He was a physically strong man, but his body had suffered a severe shock a mere two days before, and she wouldn’t have expected anyone to cover more than twenty miles in one day over such rough terrain. She was silently impressed with his endurance.
She’d chosen a spot nestled amongst a grove of young lodgepoles to make camp. A small creek trickled nearby. When they’d reached the canyon and the first fall, Chase had wanted to push further ahead to the second plunge the Roche Jaune took into the ever-deeper canyon. The second fall was even taller than the first, and had always been Sarah’s favorite. What did he hope to find in the morning? She’d seen no evidence of any people in the area. He was still convinced he came from the future, and that somehow descending into the canyon would send him back to his time.
She’d never actually been down in the canyon. No one she knew saw a need for it. There was nothing there but the river. And it was a dangerous descent. The rocks in this area were brittle like sandstone.
She returned with her bundle of firewood to find Chase asleep on the ground. A slow smile spread across her face. She knew he had to be tired. But he also needed to eat. She silently snapped her finger in his direction, and Grizzly, ever eager to be helpful, licked at the man’s face. Chase growled like a bear, trying to wrestle the dog away. Sarah laughed. When he looked her way and their eyes met, her smile froze. Was that anger, or something else, written on his face?
She dropped her gaze and sank to her knees, busily shaving kindling with her knife.
“You’re worse than my football coach, you know that?” Chase grumbled a few feet away.
Sarah shook her head. She had no idea what he was talking about, and she wasn’t sure she even wanted to know.
“Are you hungry?” she asked instead.
“Yeah. Starving. I haven’t had anything but bread and jerky all day.”
“Then you will not complain that Grizzly woke you. You can’t eat if you’re asleep. If you will start the fire, I will return with meat. Or would you rather do the hunting?”
Chase’s eyebrows furrowed. “I think we’re both going to starve if you’re asking me to do either of those things. Unless you brought some lighter fluid and matches, I have no idea how to start a fire, and if there’s not a grocery store nearby, I don’t know where the food is.”
Sarah stared in stunned silence. This man was telling her he was incapable of a simple task like starting a fire?
“Quit looking at me like that,” he snapped. “I told you I’m not from here. When are you going to believe me?”
“Here, let me show you. A fire is simple.” She didn’t know what else to say. If she had any sense at all, she’d simply start the fire herself, but something compelled her to teach this man this basic survival skill. She couldn’t remember a time in her life when she didn’t know how to start a fire.
“Why bother? I’ll be back home tomorrow, and where I’m from, I don’t need to know how to do this.” He sounded angry. Sarah had heard this type of anger before. Her brothers were often mad when she bested them at a task her father set out for them. Her mother would tell her that a man’s pride was wounded easily, and that a man’s competitive nature made it difficult for them to admit wrong doing or failing at something.
“Let me show you,” she coaxed gently. “What happens if you do not find your way home in the morning? A man will die here if he doesn’t know how to survive.” He hesitated, the frown on his handsome face deepened, but he knelt beside her.
“Fine,” he grumbled. “How do you make a fire with nothing?”
Sarah almost regretted her offer. She felt his body heat, and could smell his musky male scent. Her hands trembled when she dug for her flint in the pouch around her neck.
“Take out your knife,” she said, and held the flint out for him. She gathered a handful of wood shavings in a small pile on the ground.
“Now strike your knife against the flint to create a spark, just over the kindling.”
On his fourth try, a tiny spark fell on the shavings, and Sarah bent her head, gently blowing air onto the pile to give the spark more life. It shone bright orange for a second, then fizzled and extinguished in a thin wisp of smoke.
“Do it again, and this time be ready to blow on it,” she commanded. Chase followed her instructions. It took him several tries, but he finally succeeded in igniting the kindling, and kept it burning.
Sarah smiled brightly. “Now add small pieces of wood, slowly, until they burn. Too much wood, and you choke the flames and they will die again. Never starve a fire of air. This also prevents too much smoke.”
“There,” Chase said, after a sizeable campfire crackled before them. “You’ll make a boy scout out of me yet.” He grinned in satisfaction.
“You did well,” she said, and hastily got up from the ground when his gaze met hers. The smoldering look in his eyes burned hotter than the flames.
******
Chase stared up at the brilliant night sky. He’d never before seen so many stars. His hands were clasped behind his head, his long body stretched out next to the fire. The mangy mutt was curled up beside him, its head resting on his thigh. He could hear Sarah’s soft, rhythmic breathing from the other side of the low-burning fire. She looked small and vulnerable, curled up under her blanket. Something tightened in his chest. She had to be exhausted. While he’d slept soundly the night before, she’d been up making him clothing. Today she’d practically done all the work.
After his fire-making lesson, she had gone off, and not twenty minutes later returned with some furry thing she called a whistle dog. He couldn’t bring himself to watch when she skinned and gutted it. But he ate more than his share. It had tasted like chicken. She had tossed some fig-sized roots in the coals, and told him that would be breakfast the next morning.
He’d never met a girl like her. She hadn’t been judgmental at his incompetence. He couldn’t make a fire. He didn’t know how to hunt and find food in the wilderness, but it was second nature to her. She hadn’t belittled him, just matter-of-factly shown him how to do it. She was strong and as tough as nails when it came to survival, yet underneath all that was pure innocence and a vulnerable female.
What would happen come morning? What would he find in that canyon? The nagging thought that he might not find his way through whatever time portal he had come from sent an icy chill down his spine. He couldn’t stay here. The last few days proved that he was way out of his element. He stared at Sarah’s sleeping form. The company was enticing enough, but she was strictly hands-off. He didn’t get involved with innocent girls like her. They expected things. He believed in the love ‘em and leave ‘em kind of relationships.
Chase rolled to his side. The mutt groaned at the disturbance, but soon settled in against him, and draped its head back over his thigh.
Chapter 9
Wood crackled and popped loudly, the sounds intermingled with the noisy chirping of birds. Chase stirred, the unfamiliar sounds echoing in his head. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter from the bright sunlight that filtered through the trees. Was it morning already? Hadn’t he just closed his eyes?
He yawned, then stretched the rigid muscles in his arms and legs, and rolled onto his back. His eyes opened, and he shrank back for a split second. Looming over him, Sarah’s mutt dangled its tongue in his face, its hot, moist breath nearly making him gag. He’d never get used to that dog hovering inches from him every time he opened his eyes.
“Goddamn mutt,” he growled, and pushed the animal’s blocky head away. He raised up on his elbows and peered around the campsite. Sarah’s sleeping blanket was empty, and she was nowhere to be seen. His eyes scanned the trees, and he pushed himself fully off the ground with a groan. He stretched his arms in the air, and rotated his shoulders, working the tightness out of his muscles. Yesterday had been one hell of a long day, and sleeping on hard ground didn’t help.
“Where’s your owner,” he said to the dog, which pranced around him, tail wagging enthusiastically. He had no idea what the mutt wanted. He didn’t speak canine. Heck, he didn’t even like dogs. Why had this one latched on to him? Sarah couldn’t have gone far, though. She wouldn’t leave her pet behind.
He ran a hand over his face. The rough whiskers of a beard scraped like sandpaper across his palms. He probably looked like a mountain man at this point. He hadn’t shaved in six days. Hopefully before this day was over, he’d be soaking under a hot shower.
Chase walked around camp, working the kinks from his thigh and calf muscles. Already his legs felt less tight, and he followed the sound of the trickling creek he remembered from last night. Some cold water on his face might fully wake him up.
He thought about his climb back down the canyon to the Yellowstone River. Another strenuous day lay ahead, and the sooner he got underway, the sooner he could be back to where he belonged. He glanced through the trees where the opposite rim of the canyon became visible, the brilliant yellows and reds of the rocks shining like gold in the morning sun. The roar of the Upper Falls had been a steady background noise all night.
He pushed through the undergrowth, eager for a drink of water. A cup of coffee was probably too much to hope for. The trees opened to a small clearing where the stream meandered through the forest. The sight before him stopped him like an opposing team’s defensive tackle.
The creek trickled off to the right. Sitting at its banks was Sarah. He stared, rooted to the spot. She’d unstrapped the belt from around her waist, and unbuttoned the top few buttons on her shirt. Her hair spilled in wavy cascades over her shoulder and down her back. She lifted it aside an
d tilted her head, running a strip of wet cloth along her neck, and down the front of her shirt. The motion caused the loose shirt to slide down her arm, exposing her shoulder and the swell of her breasts. She closed her eyes, and the slight smile on her face gave off an expression of pure joy as she savored the luxury of her wash.
His mouth went dry, and he groaned silently. He grabbed hold of the tree he stood beside to curtail the urge to walk up behind her and bury his face in her hair. His hands tingled, wanting to feel her silky skin, aching to caress her. The view she presented beckoned for his touch. He licked his lips, imagining her moan with pleasure while he trailed kisses up and down her neck. Visions of her beneath him with that look of ecstasy on her face caused his gut to tighten painfully.
He tore his eyes away. Russell, you low-life piece of crap. You’re acting like a teenage peeping tom.
He was about to turn and head back the way he’d come, when she gasped. Hastily, she pulled the shirt over her shoulder and fumbled with the buttons.
“Uh…I didn’t know where you were,” he called lamely, clearing his throat. He scratched at the back of his head, feeling like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Rising quickly from the ground, she pulled the belt around her waist and headed towards him.
“Next time, make your presence known.” Her eyes shot daggers at him, and she elbowed her way past.
“You missed a button,” he called after her, and grinned when she sped up and practically ran back to camp. There won’t be a next time, angel. Time to get home. Chase quickly strode to the creek and splashed water on his face. He wished the stream were deeper than a few inches. He needed a cold soaking right about now.
He walked back to camp, and spied Sarah sitting by the fire. She’d braided her hair again. She didn’t look up or acknowledge him, but merely pushed a piece of bark his way. Some of those roots she had roasting all night rolled around on the piece of wood. Chase eyed the food skeptically. They looked like shriveled-up prunes. He sat down across from her and pulled the makeshift plate onto his lap.
Yellowstone Redemption Page 6