Winona bowed her head in silent gratitude. When Blaze nudged her again, she looked up and scratched the wolf under the chin. “Where did the white woman go?” she wondered, grimacing as the throbbing in her temple combined with the pain in her chest to nearly make her pass out.
Suddenly Winona’s torment was utterly forgotten. With a start she realized there was only one logical place the woman would have gone: the cabin. “My baby!” Winona cried. “My son!” Curling her legs under her, she rose unsteadily. Dizziness assailed her, and she took a few disjointed, stumbling steps. She feared she would collapse, but the dizziness subsided as abruptly as it had flared.
“Evelyn,” Winona said, aghast, beset by appalling visions of the infant receiving the same savage treat lent she had received. Turning, she glanced at the sky to get her bearings. She was shocked to see the sun half one, twilight about to descend. It meant she had been unconscious all afternoon! It meant Selena had had plenty of time to ...
Winona refused to finish the thought. Bending over, tie clutched at her robe, bringing on another bout of dizziness. Her stomach churned, threatening to heave, somehow she retrieved the robe and straightened, and when she did she immediately felt a little better. Gritting her teeth, Winona shrugged into the garment that had been her salvation. She was aware of blood trickling own her front but she refused to take the time to tend the wound, not when the lives of her offspring were at stake.
Anxiety for Nate added to Winona’s alarm. She had no idea why Selena had attacked her, yet clearly the act had been premeditated. Clearly the Leonards must have had sinister designs on her entire family from the very first. Had Elden, then, jumped Nate when her husband ad least expected it? She remembered the shot she had heard as she left the cabin, and her fists clenched in suppressed rage.
Winona headed homeward, taking only a few strides before she glimpsed the hilt of a knife protruding from the now, a knife she recognized as once having belonged to her mother, the very knife she had lent Selena, the weapon, ironically, used against her by the woman. Stopping, he willed her body to bend once more so she could pick it up.
At last, knife in hand, the wolf at her side, Winona resumed walking. She was critically weak, her limbs shaking at every movement, her chest in absolute torture. Yet she shuffled on. In grim determination, fired by anxiety for those she loved the most, she hiked southeastward.
Determination, however, was no match for Nathan The loss of blood and the punishment her body had endured took their toll before she went a mile. Her leg gave out, and with a low moan she fell to her knees and swayed. “No!” she said. “I will not give up!”
Blaze, standing near at hand, looked at her and whined.
Inspiration prompted Winona to beckon the animal closer. Obediently, it came, and locking the fingers of her left hand in its hairy coat above the front shoulders she urged, “Move, boy! Help me! Move!”
Evidently sensing her design, the wolf threw its whole body forward, straining its legs to their limit, and by sheer brute strength swept Winona from her knees and to her feet. She stopped, holding the animal close, war of pitching over if it should leave her.
“You get all the deer meat you can eat for this,” Winona joked, but it brought no smile to her grimly compressed lips. The stakes were too high for levity.
Taking deep breaths, Winona firmed her muscles and gave Blaze a slight push. The wolf started off, making no attempt to break loose, casting a concerned eye over her now and again. She clung to it as a drowning person would cling to a floating branch, afraid she would go down and be unable to get up again without its help.
Once among the pines, Winona had a difficult time telling which way they should go. Ordinarily so simple a task would have posed no problem, but in her disoriented state she often became briefly confused, unable to distinguish north from south, east from west. The intermittent dizziness only made the situation worse.
So did the darkness. Once the sun sank, Winona could no longer rely on it to highlight the western horizon.
More often than not she had to guess at the direction she was traveling, and frequently she would spot a tree boulder she knew and realize with a building sense futility that she was going the wrong way. Eventually, on the verge of outright collapse, Winona halted, wiped a hand across her perspiring brow, and moved to her left. She gaped in surprise at seeing the place a dozens of yards off. From the shape of the shoreline, she knew she must be somewhere between the lake and the cabin. Twisting, she nearly shouted for joy on spying the dark outline of the structure not thirty yards off.
The next instant the night reverberated to the blast of a rifle. Winona saw flame and smoke leap from the cabin window. In her befuddled state she believed she was the target. Releasing Blaze, she took a faltering stride one side at the very second a heavy hand fell on her shoulder and she was seized around the waist from behind.
~*~
Cold. Intense, complete, cold.
Nate King had never been so utterly cold. He shivered, he shook, his teeth chattering, and tried to worm way deeper into the warm blankets enveloping him. Idly, the blankets were moist and clung to his skin, the wet added to his discomfort. He twisted, trying to pull the blankets tighter around his shoulders, and his fingers plunged into a mushy substance.
Bewildered, Nate blinked, came fully awake, and felt; pulse surge when he comprehended the truth: He is encased in a vault of snow, literally buried alive! Panic set in. He thrashed wildly and surged against the ice pressing on his back. His hands brushed the tops boulders buried under him. His head began pounding.
He felt a nearly irresistible urge to scream.
Suddenly the snow walls around Nate caved in. Certain he was about to be smothered alive, he flailed and kicked at the constricting white shroud. A second later he was in the clear and breathing fresh air. He stood up, snow covering him from his waist on down, and looked around in confusion. Slowly the truth dawned and he recalled being knocked off the cliff by Elden Leona. His hand shot to his face and he felt the welts and gash left by the beating Elden had inflicted. In his mind’s eye he could see, again, the barrel of the greenhorn’s rifle glinting in the sunlight as it rained down on his face. Once again he experienced the flow of air past his body and saw the white earth rushing up to meet him. By a sheer accident he had plowed into a deep drift that had spared him from being crushed on the underlying boulders.
Batting the snow aside, Nate stood. His legs were bit shaky and his head hurt abominably, but otherwise he felt fine. He tested his arms, insuring neither w broken. Then he faced the cliff. By the position of t sun he knew he had been out for many hours. Already it was late afternoon. What had Elden been up to in that time? he asked himself, and felt a chill at the possible answer.
“Winona and the kids!” Nate said softly.
He headed for the slope to the left of the sheer precipice, the ice he had studied from above and thought it might be unsafe enough to be negotiated. His new perspective gave him doubts. The lower portion was quite steep, the snow bound to be as slippery as ice. Getting up there would tax him to his core, and might even prove fatal if should slip near the top, yet he had it to do. The lives of his loved ones were at stake, and nothing was going to keep him from reaching them.
Filled with apprehension, Nate hiked to the base of the slope and paused. There were no trees nearby, which was disappointing since he could have used a limb as a crutch to help keep his footing. Shrugging at the inevitable, Nate commenced his ascent. Right away he discovered the footing was extremely treacherous, even worse than he’d expected. He had to lay each foot down just so or his sole would slide out from under him.
Climbing a mountain of ice would have been no easier. Nate gave up trying to stand after a while and simply crawled upward on all fours, digging his fingers and toes into the snow for extra purchase. When the going became particularly steep, he lay flat and wormed his way higher inch by precarious inch. Only once did he look down, when he was about halfway up, and the
thought of falling again almost made him do just that. Resisting a wave of vertigo, he applied his energy to climbing. Nothing but climbing. He emptied himself of distracting thoughts and feelings. He reined in his pain.
Nate tired but never slowed. The cold was a foe to be dominated, to be conquered by the force of his will. His hands grew frigid, his fingers nearly numb. Despite this, higher and higher he climbed. Sweat poured from every pore and was promptly cooled by the wind. Fortunately, his exertions countered most of the chill.
Reach. Dig in. Lift a leg. Dig in. It was the same routine over and over and over again. Nate was like one of those steam engines he had read about, mechanically doing the same thing so many times his movements became automatic. His brain seemed to shut off. Reach. Dig in. Lift a leg. Dig in.
When Nate’s hand extended and made contact with nothing but empty air, he snapped back to life and looked up to learn he was at the point where the shelf blended into the slope. Leaning to his right, he hooked an elbow on the shelf, then propelled himself forward by kicking off with both legs. He rolled once and came to a stop close to the edge.
Grinning, Nate rose on his hands and knees. His muscles cried for rest, yet he had to go on. Moving back a yard, he stood and walked toward the gap in the drifts. A long, dark shape in the snow stopped him. He buried his arm to the elbow and drew out his Hawken, left by Elden where it had fallen.
“Thank you, fool,” Nate muttered. The barrel was clogged, so he swiftly tugged out the ramrod, cleaned out the snow, and reloaded. It was then he realized one of his pistols was gone, probably lying in the drift into which he had plummeted. Guns were precious, but his family was even more so. Making a note to go back for the pistol later, he hurried on down the mountain.
The climb had taken hours. Nate stared at the blood-red sun, perched above the western mountains, and goaded his weary legs into a trot. His sense of urgency mounted the further he ran. He cursed himself for being the biggest ass in all of creation, for endangering those who mattered most to him. But how was he to have known? Rescuing the Leonards had been a good deed on his part—or so he’d believed.
Running now became as mechanical as the climb had been. Nate’s legs seemingly moved of their own volition. Presently the lake came into view. The surface glimmered gold with fading sunlight as he started around the east side, but darkness covered it by the time he came to the west side, within hailing distance of the cabin.
Exhaustion nipped at Nate’s heels. He wanted to keel over, to sleep for a month. Angling to the lake, he knelt and splashed handfuls of the frigid water onto his face and neck. It had the desired result, temporarily reviving him, sharpening his senses. He held the Hawken in his left hand, rose, and cut into the trees on a beeline for his home. Night reigned, restricting his vision to a few dozen feet.
Nate saw someone up ahead, a blurred figure moving in the same direction he was. He detected long hair. Instantly unadulterated rage pulsed through him. He slowed, moving as silently as a wraith, his wrath wilding as he thought of getting his hands on Selena Leonard.
The woman was only a few feet away, hunched over is if she was sneaking toward the cabin, when several things happened all at once. Nate pounced at the very moment a rifle shot shattered the quiet of the forest and the woman straightened and moved to one side. He identified her profile as his hand closed on her shoulder. Wrapping his other arm around her waist, he whispered in her ear, “Winona! It’s me!”
A streak of fur took off from her side. Nate heard her gasp, and she sagged against him. From the cabin came a terrible tumult. Selena Leonard was shouting. Suspecting that his children were in dire trouble, Nate quickly lowered Winona to the ground. He felt blood on his hand, and would have lingered had his son’s fevered voice not reached his ears.
“Let go of me! Let go!”
“I’ll be back!” Nate told Winona. Tearing his gaze away, he sprinted for the cabin door. A new element was added to the mayhem: the ferocious snarling and snapping of a raging wolf, attended by screams of terror and gruff masculine curses. A gun cracked. The snarling heightened to a frenzy. And through it all Zach was yelling, “Get her! Get her! Get her!”
Nate hit the door at a full run. He knew it was closed; tie never expected it to be barred as well. The impact sent him flying backward, dazed and aching, onto the ground. He dimly heard a crashing noise, then the thud of frantic footsteps. Someone—or were there two of them?—rushed off into the trees.
“Zach!” Nate boomed, lurching upright. He staggered to the window, but could see little in the gloom.
“Pa? Is that you?”
“Where are you?” Nate responded, throwing a leg over the sill. The table blocked his path and was angrily hurled aside. “Are you and you sister all right?”
Nate took a step, then stopped as a thin form hurtled at him and eager arms encircled his hips. He gripped his son’s arm and asked, “The Leonards, Zach? Are they gone?”
“Yes,” Zach answered, the word distorted by the sob of relief that was uttered with it. “Blaze ... Blaze did ...” He broke off to sniffle.
“Evelyn?” Nate pressed. “Where’s your sister?”
“Under the bed, Pa. She’s fine.”
Prying the boy’s arms loose, Nate squatted and gave his son a tearful hug. Zach’s whole body shook, and Nate knew the boy was trying to hold back his tears. Nate’s eyes had adjusted enough to note the broken chairs and other items scattered all about. He also saw a familiar dog-like body lying on the floor. “Blaze?” he blurted out, fearing the worst.
The wolf stood and padded over to him. Its tongue licked his wrist.
“Blaze saved me, Pa,” Zach said, his voice husky with emotion. “That Selena woman was strangling the daylights out of me. I could barely breathe, and I figured I was a goner.” Turning, he looped an arm over the wolf. “I was seeing spots, I was. And suddenly Blaze was there and tearing at her arms. She had to let go to save herself. Elden fired at him but missed. Next I knew, they were both running for their lives.”
“They won’t get away,” Nate vowed. Going to the bed, he flattened on the floor, located a bundle of blankets, and pulled his daughter out.
In the forest hoofbeats sounded, bearing to the northwest and fading rapidly.
“The Leonards!” Zach cried.
“In due time,” Nate said somberly as he deposited Evelyn on the bed and pried the wrap apart so he could see her beaming cherubic face. “Happy to see me, are you?” he asked, his voice as husky as his son’s.
“She’s awful hungry,” Zach mentioned. “Where’s Ma, Pa? Why isn’t she here?”
“Oh, Lord,” Nate breathed. Springing up, he dashed to the door and wrenched the bar loose. “Start a fire!” he directed over his shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”
“Do you know where Ma is?” Zach hollered.
“I’m going to fetch her,” Nate answered, neglecting to add that he hoped he wasn’t already too late.
~*~
Somewhere sparrows chirped. Warm sunshine bathed Winona as she opened her eyes and found her daughter cradled in the crook of her arm, sound asleep. Looking up, she beheld two of the gloomiest human beings alive. Winona grinned, watching them pick at bowls of stew on the table in front of them, and remarked, “I see your father has done the cooking again.”
A pair of gleeful maniacs rushed to the bed and smothered Winona with hugs and kisses. She reveled in their affection. Once she winced when Zach accidentally bumped the bandage covering her left side. When finally they calmed down, she inquired sarcastically, “Have you missed my food that much?”
“Oh, Ma!” Zach said, laying his head on her good shoulder. “You had us worried for a spell.”
“You’ve been out for two days,” Nate added, stroking her forehead. “Had a high fever for a while too, but we got it under control.”
“Our guests?”
“Rode out of here like their tails were on fire,” Nate said. “I aim to track them down just as soon as you’re up a
nd about.” A cloud darkened his face. “They won’t ever do to anyone else what they did to us.”
Winona felt Evelyn squirm. She tenderly touched the baby’s cheek as a knot formed in her throat and her lungs became constricted. “God smiled on us,” she said, using her husband’s word for the Great Mystery.
Nate nodded, and remarked, “One good thing came out of this nightmare.”
“What might that be?” Winona asked.
“You won’t have to be so fussy about keeping the cabin spruced up from now on. It’ll be a cold day in hell before I bring anyone home with me again.”
They all laughed then, the nervous laughter of tension long denied being abruptly released, laughing harder and longer than was called for, but laughing anyway until none of them could laugh anymore.
“Visitors will always be welcome here,” Winona said afterward. “We cannot judge everyone by the way the Leonards acted.” She relaxed and grinned contentedly until her husband’s words sank in. “Did you say I have been unconscious for two days?”
“It’ll be three this evening,” Nate amended.
“How have you managed to keep our tiny one fed all that time?”
“She sort of fed herself.”
“How?”
Nate nodded at her bosom, then coughed and fidgeted. “How?” Winona repeated, guessing the truth and marveling at his audacity. Usually he was extremely shy about such matters, which she understood was a typical trait of many whites.
“Well,” Nate began, “your left side was hurt but your right side wasn’t, so whenever Evelyn acted hungry, I tucked her in with you and let her do as she pleased.”
“It was really funny, Ma,” Zach interjected. “Evelyn kept flopping off of you, so Pa had to hold her in place. Last night he fell asleep while doing it, and when I woke up this morning, there was his face right where Evelyn’s was supposed to be.”
Winona saw a pink hue creep up her husband’s features. She threw her right arm around him, pulled him close, and boldly gave him a kiss full on the lips. “Have I ever told you that I love you?”
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