Staring at her, he slumped down farther, scratching his chin and tipping his head backward to rest against the rock behind them. He closed his eyes and let out a low grunt. “Tarnation, I was just starting to enjoy the dang donut! Now here we sit—one gun, no water, and our food lying yonder out of reach and feeding an army of ants. It’s a fine pickle we’re in.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “I wish I’d brought Swamp. He would have alerted us if someone was near.”
“So do I.”
“I knew it! I’m competing with a four-legged mongrel for your affections.” An arresting smile softened his face.
“You never did tell me how he got his name.”
He reached over and lightly fingered a loose tendril of hair on her cheek, then pulled his hand away to rest on his knee. “I was fishing down by the creek when I heard this pup whimpering and slogging through the mud, making his way up from the river through the nearby swamp. He came out a muddy-looking mess and scampered right up, shaking mud and water all over me.”
“How did he get in the swamp?”
Tye raised an eyebrow. “It’s more like—how did he make it out of the creek?”
Maria’s eyes widened. “Oh, no. Don’t tell me someone tried to drown him.”
“When settlers are moving onward, it’s quite common to drop off litters of pups or kittens near the ranches around here or…” He paused. “…find a burlap sack and a nearby body of water.”
He rolled up into a crouch, reset his hat, and faced her.
“Listen, I have an idea. I’m going to take you farther back into the forest, hide you, and then I’m going down the mountain a bit in search of my horse.”
“You’re going to abandon me, Tydall Ashmore?”
He winced, his expression was almost apologetic. “No, I’m going to leave you for a few minutes. I promise I’ll return.”
“No, take me with you. Please.” Icy fear glistened in her eyes.
He raised his hand and caressed the side of her face with his knuckles. “You have to trust me, Maria, if we’re going to get back down this mountain.” He gestured toward the dense woods behind them. “Come, let me find a place farther from the path where it’s safe and secure. I promise I’ll be back to get you.”
Minutes later, when he turned to leave, she grabbed him by his upper arm. “Wait,” she said, her voice faltering, her gaze fearful. “Please be careful.”
He felt the electricity of her touch, and for a moment they stared at each other, unable to tear their attention away. He left her then on the perimeter of the small clearing, but not before softly touching his lips above her eyebrow and whispering near her ear, “Trust me. You have to trust me, Maria. I’ll come back for you.”
****
Under the cool shadows of a tall pine tree, Maria sat with her back against the rough bark of the trunk and peered out into the snarled undergrowth surrounding her. Around her, the woods smelled of earth, drying leaves, and sweet blackberries. Soon the sun would be going down, and she would be alone in the dark as the air grew colder. She removed her hat and nervously weaved the strings between her fingers while she waited for Tye’s return. She silently berated herself for pestering him to take her up the mountain to see River Roy. They could easily have made the trip on Saturday when they had the entire day. She was so engrossed in her thoughts she missed seeing the Indian who emerged from the brush a few feet beside her with two rifles under one arm and eating a donut with the other hand.
“You look worried, white woman,” the Indian mumbled, his mouth full.
Startled, Maria looked up as a wave of apprehension swept over her, and her stomach felt like she jumped off a cliff. An Indian. He stood tall and proud, his greasy black hair tied back with a rawhide string, and he was missing his two front teeth. On closer look between the opening in his dirty leather vest, she noticed his chest was covered in a mass of scars. Her heart thudded in her chest. She pulled her knees to her chest and inched her body farther against the tree until the bark bit into her back.
“Are you the school teeee-cher? Or are you white woman who owns the whiskey everyone is talking about?” The Indian had a ring of powdered sugar around his mouth as he devoured the last of the donut, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“The…the school teacher,” Maria stuttered. “Maria O’Donnell.”
The Indian grunted and tapped his chest. “Me Two Bears. Too bad you don’t own the whiskey. Two Bears likes good whiskey.”
Maria eyed the Indian warily and stuttered again. “I…I...I can get you whiskey.”
Two Bears grunted and laid the rifles down carefully on a bed of pine needles. He approached her, squatting and studying her carefully, tilting his head to the left and right. “Do not be afraid. I am friends with the Ashmores. Are you Tye Ashmore’s woman?”
“Tye Ashmore is my friend. He’s coming any…any minute,” she managed to blurt out. “He left to get his horse and his rifle.” She rubbed her elbow and lower arm which had started to sting.
Two Bears snorted and nodded toward the rifles. “Two Bears has his rifle. I came to give it to him.” He eyed her carefully, then reached out his hand and grabbed her by the top of her injured arm.
“Leave me alone,” she ground out and tried to pull her arm free, but he held fast. He pushed her sleeve up higher and looked at the scraped skin on her elbow and underneath her forearm. He grunted a disapproving sound then stared at her with dark penetrating eyes before rising and heading back through the trees. He returned with a small tin and handed it to her.
“Put this on your wound,” he ordered.
“What is it?”
“Bear grease,” he replied solemnly. “Good for cuts and scrapes.”
Maria wrinkled her nose and shoved the tin toward him. “No, no, thank you. I’m fine.”
Two Bears snorted. “Go ahead. It will help. It smells like horse dung, but it works.”
Maria shook her head vehemently. “No. Thank you, but no. I don’t need it.”
Two Bears walked to a nearby pine and sat down opposite her, stretching his feet out, still silently studying her. “Read the tin, white woman teacher.”
Maria looked at the tin more carefully. It was petroleum jelly. She opened it and smelled it cautiously, and heard him chuckle. “Where did you get this?”
“Betsy Ashmore.”
She shrugged and applied some jelly to her stinging elbow and arm, still warily watching him.
Finally he asked, “How long has Ashmore been gone?”
“At least ten minutes.”
He nodded. “It will take him a few more minutes.” He crossed his hands at his chest and stared at her. “Can you teach a man to read and write, Ma-reee-a?”
Baffled, she looked at him. “What do you mean? Learning to read and write is the same whether you teach a grown man, woman, or child. You start with the letters and then string the letters into words.”
“I have seen these letters and words you speak of. Two Bears would like to read and write the white man’s language. Can you teach Two Bears?”
Teach him? A multitude of thoughts flew through Maria’s head. What would the school board think if they discovered she was teaching an Indian? What would the townsfolk think? What would anyone think of her right now, sitting in a forest with an Indian? Hesitating, Maria continued to gaze at him, torn by conflicting emotions as she weighed each question. But before she could answer, Tye walked into the small cleared area. He held a ring flask in his hands.
The Indian rose and grinned. “At last. You are back. I have your rifle, Ashmore. And your sack of donuts. And your woman. Tell Anna the donuts are good. Very good. You may have your woman and your rifle. Two Bears keeps the donuts.”
Tye sighed with relief. Eyes narrowed, he said, “Besides finding Maria, I’m sure there’s a story about how you managed to get the rifle and donuts.”
Two Bears grinned and shook his head. “No. No story. I took them. Not so hard when you leave horse with its r
eins caught in the bushes.”
“I didn’t leave my horse on purpose. It was scared off when someone shot at me, and I jumped off to save my hide and Maria’s. The rifle, water, and donuts went with it.” Tye threw him a cold look that could freeze running water in a summer sun.
“And a sorry hide yours is, Ashmore. You are getting careless. You leave woman with hair the color of mink all alone. You lose horse, rifle, donuts, and water. And you do not take dog with you.”
“If you keep insulting me, Two Bears, I’m going to take my rifle and wrap it around your greasy neck. Why didn’t you bring my horse?”
“Why didn’t you?” Two Bears asked. His mouth was tight and grim. “If I had moved the horse, anyone watching would know to follow me back to you or your woman. This way, they do not know if you are on the mountain or not.”
Tye nodded. “I figured the same. I decided we’d walk down to get it when it gets dark.”
Maria rose and stepped between them. She was scared, she was weary, and she wanted to get home, take a bath, and soak her skinned arm and injured knee. “Why can’t we just start now?”
“Your woman is not happy.” Two Bears grunted. “An angry squaw can make sunny days seem like rainy ones.”
Maria glared at him.
“Maybe we’re both not happy since you’re eating our food,” Tye countered.
Two Bears thumped his chest and grinned. “I even ate the ones you dropped on the trail. Before any varmints could get to them. Come, I know another path to your horse. By the time we arrive, it will be dark, and you can take your woman and go the rest of the way safely.”
“I am not his woman,” Maria snapped. “I am not a piece of property. Stop saying that!”
Two Bears jumped back, away from her. “If you say so.” He looked at Tye with wide eyes. “Hair like a mink. Temper like a badger.”
****
A mile down the trail as darkness descended, they found Tye’s horse and parted with Two Bears who silently disappeared into the underbrush with the agility of a bobcat. The dampness in the approaching night air caused Marie to shiver. Tye untied his buckskin coat from the back of his saddle, handed it to her to wear, and mounted his horse, but not before he checked his rifle and returned it to his scabbard. He held out a hand, taking hers and pulling her up behind him.
“I doubt anyone will be crazy enough to wait half the evening to try to shoot me in the dark,” he said in a low, rueful voice.
With her arms wrapped around his waist, Maria felt the heat of his back radiate clean through the coat, and she felt warm and safe as they started back down the mountain. “What will happen to my horse and my school bag?”
“Your horse has probably returned to my ranch or to Flint’s, and Amos, your sister, and Betsy are probably crazy with worry by now.”
“Tell me about Two Bears.”
“That fool-hardy Indian is a Ute renegade whom my sister-in-law befriended when she first came to Golden and needed some wild horses to sell to the army for money. At the time her pottery business was just getting started.”
“What does he do?”
“Besides driving our family crazy?”
She laughed. “I mean, how does he live?”
“He has a simple life gathering wild ponies for locals to sell to the army. He lives alone since his wife and children were killed in a raid by white men when he was younger. The claw marks on his chest are from a time when he tangled with two grizzlies who are now in animal heaven.”
When they reached the bottom of the mountain, Maria could see the tiny speck of light peeking out from between the mullions in the front window and could smell the wood smoke from the fireplace long before they reached the cottage door. Around them the songs of night insects filled the air. Abigail and Betsy came flying out of the cottage when they rode into the yard.
“It’s about time!” Abigail said in a harsh, haughty voice. She stood with her hands on her hips. “Do you realize, Maria, it’s way past dark? Do you realize how this will look to the entire population of Golden?”
Maria slid off Tye’s mount and stumbled, but not before Betsy grabbed her by the arm. She flinched, and Betsy could see she was injured. “Why don’t you help get Maria cleaned up and ready for bed?” She pushed them both gently toward the cottage and looked at her brother’s weary face as he dismounted.
“Maria’s horse came back to the ranch an hour ago,” she said. “When yours didn’t, Flint decided we should wait until morning to go looking for you. He’s at the Mule Shed Inn getting a party of men together for a morning search. Marcus is with him.”
Tye spoke. “Someone shot at us while we were coming back down the mountain.”
“Do you have any idea who was behind the rifle sights?” She laid a gentle hand on his tired shoulder. Around them, thunder rumbled.
Tye grunted derisively. “Someone who wants to see me dead?”
Betsy pried the reins from his grip. “Well, at least you haven’t lost your sense of humor. I’ll take your horse to the General Store and bed him down with mine. You’d better go to the inn and let Flint and Marcus know you and Maria are safe. I’ll leave the door open, and you can have the spare room tonight. No sense in riding all the way back to the ranch in the dark.” She threw him a pointed look and her unspoken message—she didn’t want him riding around in the dark or the rain—was not lost on him.
“Don’t wait up for me, Betsy. I think this would be a good night to imbibe in some good Canadian whiskey.” He removed his hat and ran his hand through his unruly hair.
Betsy smiled. “Especially if you can get your brothers to sympathize with your plight and throw down some coins for the rounds.”
He looked toward the cabin. “I should check on Maria and apologize or explain to Abigail. This whole situation doesn’t look good with both of us out so late. She’s a single woman and new teacher, to boot. Gossip has a way of settling itself over the town like a dust storm.”
Betsy shook her head and looked up at the ominous black sky which had opened up and was spitting huge raindrops. “Abigail hasn’t been in the best of moods for the last two hours. I’d wait until tomorrow when everyone is rested to sort it out.” She hugged him. “Everything always looks better in the light of a new day, Tydall.”
Still hatless, he nodded and allowed his breath to seep out in a long, relieved sigh, then trudged wearily up the path toward the Mule Shed Inn. He hated to be on the wrong side of a gun. He hated when he wasn’t in control of any situation. He looked at the sky and felt a large raindrop hit him squarely in his left eye. Come to think of it, he even hated rain.
Chapter Eleven
It wasn’t the aroma of coffee, bacon, and hotcakes that finally roused Tye from sleep the next day. It was Swamp whining in his ear and nudging him awake with his cold nose. He threw back the quilt, sat up, and realized he had made it no further than his sister’s plush settee in the parlor when he returned from the Mule Shed Inn’s barroom yesterday evening.
Groaning, he reached out and patted the dog on his head. “You know, ol’ boy, there are kinder ways to get a man up after a night bellied up to the bar.” He looked around the new living quarters his sister had added on to the General Store after she had purchased it from old man Finley, the former owner. She had decorated in soft blue and green velvets and satins with pictures of pastoral scenes on the walls. Before the additions, she only had a small kitchen, sleeping cot, and eating area. Now she had two bedrooms, an ample parlor, a large kitchen with pantry, and a dining area big enough to handle all four brothers who regularly stopped in to see her. Although she still kept a few possessions at their ranch along Cherry Creek, she preferred living in the noise, hustle, and confusion of a frontier town. Since her move, Tye sorely missed her and her vivacious personality much more so, he suspected, than she missed him with his taciturn disposition.
It was well known Betsy had been adopted by his mother and father when she was an infant and was left in a basket in their bar
n in Virginia. Their mother had just given birth to him and had immediately decided the little girl—which she considered a gift from God after four boys—would be raised by them and would be the girl they never had. It was also no secret Betsy inherited a great deal of money via a will after her real mother died and her identity was revealed.
Tye smiled. Upon meeting her, no one would ever guess his sister was a wealthy woman. She wore her favorite cotton dresses and multi-pocketed store aprons and preferred to wear her hair in one long blonde braid falling down her back. She also chose to work in the General Store as many hours as possible. She loved being busy, and she loved the town and the people of Golden. Tye and his brothers often joked she must have been a peddler in another life because she enjoyed bartering, buying, and selling goods.
Bootless, Tye rose and heard the riotous laughter of his brothers. He groaned. Now he would have to face their ribbing about last night, and his head felt like someone had hit him with a sledge hammer. He walked out into the eating area where Betsy was heaping hotcakes and eggs on Marcus’s and Flint’s plates. She looked up as he slid into a seat at the table. Swamp followed loyally, falling down beside his chair, his head on his paws.
“Your muddy boots are behind the back door,” she said. “Good thing your brothers had the foresight to take them off before they deposited you onto my new settee. I guess they couldn’t find the spare bedroom.” She glared at all of them.
Tye squinted at her and held up a cup. “Unceremoniously dumped, you mean.”
Betsy took the coffeepot off the back of the stove and poured him a cup. “Food?”
He winced and shook his throbbing head.
Flint, his mouth stuffed with food, swallowed, then chuckled. “Can’t hold the liquor, little brother?”
“He can’t seem to hold onto the little school teacher either,” Marcus piped up. “I heard she and her sister have their noses a tad out of joint. Of course, if I were shot at and dragged across a pile of rocks, I’d be a little peeved as well. I told you the mountain was no place to court a young lady.”
Hands on hips, Betsy surveyed the men. “You all have absolutely nothing to chuckle about. If someone is out to shoot an Ashmore, we have more trouble than I care to think about at the moment.”
Under Starry Skies Page 11