Insult momentarily forgotten, her mouth fell open. “A canoe race? At night?”
Encouraged by her interest in his story, the maleness in Wals took over and he shifted closer toward her. He was instantly rewarded for his efforts by a low, warning growl that came from the back of the little cabin. Properly warned, he immediately moved back into his previous position. Peering into the shadows, he could see the wolf was busy chewing on something. It looked like half of his canoe paddle. Turning back, subdued, he answered Rose with a charming drawl he had picked up somewhere in his jaunts to New Orleans, “Well, it wasn’t supposed to be a night race, ma’am, but we got a late start from the paddlewheeler’s dock.”
“Why, that’s miles upriver!” Rose leaned forward in surprise, the crocheted shawl sagging. “Where were you racing to?”
Wals opened his mouth to answer, and then promptly shut it. “Umm, I don’t know,” he admitted with a laugh. “We never talked about that.”
She liked his laugh as she settled back in her rocker. “If that was the case, how would you know who won?”
Surprised at her humor, he threw his head back and gave a hearty laugh. The sharp movement of his head caused a wave of pain to cross his face. Eyes closed against the severe headache, he paled under his deep tan.
“How did you get all wet?” Not knowing what to do to help his injuries, she tried to distract him.
Tentatively, he opened one eye. She wavered on getting up to help him in some way or just diverting his attention away from the hurt. Knowing there was nothing she could do right now, he answered her question. “Well, when I saw I was falling a little behind in the race, I decided to cut through Keel Boat Rapids. Just as soon as I entered the Rapids, I hit the rocks in the dark and must’ve keeled over.” His head shook in disgust, which made him wince. “I know that River better’n the back of my hand. Banged my head and my arm on one of the rocks. Not sure what happened to the canoe.”
“Maybe it kept going and won the race,” she suggested with a grin. “Do you think your friends are going to come looking for you?”
He saw her glance at the door and misunderstood the reason for her question. “Oh, no, no. You don’t have to worry about the Pinewoods. They’ve been right friendly to me. They won’t bother you none, especially with me here.” His head shot over to the corner of the cabin where the wolf was. He would have sworn he heard a muttered, disgusted, “sheesh,” come from that part of the room. All he could see were two eyes glowing yellow from the reflection of the firelight. As he looked, the eyes narrowed into two slits. His heart suddenly pounding, Wals turned back to his lovely hostess.
Apparently not having heard anything unusual, Rose leaned back in her chair and was talking. “Oh, I don’t worry about them, Mr. Davis.” She waved an elegant hand toward the west. “Ever since the Hostiles burned this cabin, they all leave me alone. It took quite a while, but once I got the flames put out, they apparently considered the debt paid and they left. It’s really the soldiers I have to worry about.” The words were bitter as she pulled the shawl closer around her shoulders.
“Wait, back up a minute. I heard about the Hostiles when I first came here. I think it was the Doctor at the Fort who mentioned them.… Anyway, I was told they were camped across the River for the longest time, always a line of them, watching. That’s why the Calvary was stationed here in the first place. Then, suddenly, overnight, the Hostiles just left. What is the debt you mentioned?” Wals was confused. This all sounded so very familiar to him, but not the way she was telling it. His mind pictured a band of hostiles sitting on their horses across the narrow River, war paint and spears in their hands. They sat there, unmoving for years…. No, that isn’t right. He never actually saw them here. The River wasn’t narrow at that point. So why was the memory so sharp in his mind? He didn’t notice those deep sapphire eyes intently watching him from the corner of the room, ears turned to catch every word. His confused thoughts were interrupted by her reply to his last, already-forgotten question.
When his eyes refocused on the present, he could see Rose looked embarrassed. She was looking at her lap, her long fingers nervously playing with the fringe of her shawl. “My husband, Jedadiah Stephens, or Jed as we all called him, imagined he was an expert card player. He thought being good at cheating made him an expert.” She broke off, disturbed and disgusted at the memory, and looked into the fire, her hands falling idle in her lap. “He would play anyone who wanted a game. He used to brag to me that he cheated both the natives as well as the soldiers and for some unknown reason he thought he got away with it.”
“But he didn’t.”
Rose shook her head in the firelight. The tips of her hair reflected the wavering flames and glowed a brilliant gold. “No, he didn’t. I came back from a swim at Cascade Peak and found him bent backwards over the fence in front of the cabin with an arrow in his chest. The cabin had been set afire and the hostiles were just sitting there across the River watching.” She stopped for a moment, but he could see she wasn’t finished with her story. “But, the funny thing is, Mr. Davis,” she continued, lowering her voice and leaning closer to him as if in confidence, “I don’t think they did it.”
“Who? The Hostiles? Why do you say that, Mrs. Stephens?”
She looked away into the darkness of the cabin, thinking back, her delicate brow furrowed in thought. “I can’t quite put my finger on it, but it just didn’t look right. I’m not an expert, but I don’t think that arrow belonged to the tribe across the River.”
“Who do you think did it, then?”
Rose looked back at him, and suddenly remembered who he was and where he spent his most of his free time. She became wary. “I’d just as soon not say, Mr. Davis.” Her eyes went back to her lap as she nervously smoothed the thin material of her nightgown. “Let’s just say the cabin burned for the longest time. The logs must have been very green and full of sap. I just couldn’t get it out. Then, suddenly, it just seemed to burn itself out. I even tried to whitewash these inside walls to help get rid of that awful burnt smell. Afterwards, when Wolf joined me, a rumor got started that a ‘Wolf Spirit’ was watching over the cabin now and everyone across the River left me alone. Well,” she amended, with a grateful smile, “sometimes the Pinewoods kindly leave me something on the doorstep, like grain or meat. They seem to know just when I need it the most.” Her words drifted off as she wondered for the thousandth time how they would possibly know.
Wals glanced at the wolf when she mentioned him, and suddenly a wave of familiarity washed over him. “You call him Wolf?” he mumbled more to himself than out loud. He was brought back by Rose’s startled gasp. The fleeting image of a familiar blue-eyed face swirled into a vapor and vanished from his mind.
“Your head is bleeding, Mr. Davis!” She hadn’t seen the cut before because of the darkness. Reaching for a clean cloth from her basket, she dipped it in the kettle of hot water that was ever present on the fire and carefully dabbed the wound. Close to him again, he could catch the faint aroma of lilacs and wood smoke. She, on the other hand, caught the pungent smell of sweat and river water.
He couldn’t help but noticed the grimace on her face, even though she tried to hide it from him. “Sorry about the smell, Mrs. Stephens. It was awful hot today, and it’s a long walk up here from the River. Thought the River water would have washed some of it away, but I guess it didn’t.” He gave her his best charming, boyish smile.
Stuck between propriety and kindness, Rose wasn’t sure what to do. If he was found in her cabin this late at night and she in her nightclothes, her reputation would be ruined. She suddenly gave a bitter laugh at the thought. The people of the Fort already thought she was odd and don’t give her the time of day anyway. What did she care what they thought? This was Wals and he needed her help. And, her eyes were going to start watering if they didn’t do something about that awful smell right away. Kindness won out over propriety.
“I have a bit of hot water ready, Mr. Davis. Would you
like to take a bath? Perhaps the soaking will help your sore arm.” She blushed, fully aware of what she was offering.
Happy with this turn of events, Wals readily agreed. The crocheted thing around her shoulders proved to be in her way, so she unconsciously dropped it over the back of the nearest chair. Moving efficiently around the small room, a wooden tub that she used both for bathing and laundry was readied. She had planned on taking a bath herself that night, but failed to mention that fact to Mr. Davis. It was already embarrassing enough. Who knew what he would think if she mentioned herself bathing. She kept herself busy by locating her small cake of milled soap and a clean wash cloth for him to use. Holding them out to him, Rose was surprised when he made no move to take them.
Wals made an effort to keep his face straight. Pointed to his banged up arm with his chin, he sounded perplexed. “I’m afraid my arm is kinda useless right now. I’m going to need a little help.”
The soap and the wash cloth hung as if suspended in midair when she suddenly realized what he meant. Blushing an even deeper shade of red, she audibly swallowed. The wolf silently got to his feet and came to stand beside her, his back to the fire, eyes half closed as he stared at Wals. Rose put a hand on the wolf’s head for reassurance.
Wals wasn’t so confident in his scheme when the wolf joined the mix. The wolf wasn’t being threatening. He was just there. Watching. And, somehow, Wals thought it looked as though the wolf was frowning.
Rose took a deep breath and muttered to herself over and over, “I was married. I can do this. I was married. I can do this. He just needs my help. He just needs my help…But, it’s Wals,” her heart added. It was the duty of the lady of the castle to bathe visiting knights-errant.... Oh, my… Where did that come from? she wondered, still standing with her hand out in front of her, clutching the items in a white-knuckled grip.
With a resolute sigh, she set the soap and washcloth down next to the wooden tub. She couldn’t look him in the eye. “If you will hold your arm out as well as you can, Mr. Davis, I will try to help you off with your shirt.” With shaking fingers, she managed to undo the odd buttons on his shirt. As she unbuttoned it she couldn’t help but notice the buttons had the initials DL on them. When he turned away from her, she eased the shirt carefully over his bruised shoulders. Then, so help her, she couldn’t help but notice just how wide those shoulders were and how tight the muscles were across his back. Please don’t turn around, please don’t turn around, her mind wordlessly pleaded with him.
Wals turned around. Embarrassed by her admiration of his back, she couldn’t meet his amused eyes. That meant her eyes had to drop down to his bare chest—which she immediately saw was covered with a fine mat of soft brown hair. Oh, that wouldn’t do. Her eyes whipped up again. Straight-faced, Wals was cradling his sore arm in his good one. He gave a small groan of pain, those soft green eyes staring steadily at her. “Can you help me with my moccasins? It hurts my head too much to bend over.”
She gave a sigh of relief. She expected to be asked to help with something else. “Yes, sure.”
Wals had to keep trying. “My hand hurts really bad. Can you help me with my belt?”
Again the dim firelight did nothing to hide her profuse blush. Eyes wide, she stammered, “Absolutely not, Mr. Davis! I...you…No!”
Looking down he hid the grin in his eyes. “Well, then you had better turn around, because my pants are going next.”
Amazed at the speed with which she turned, he silently laughed as he quickly shed himself of the pants and climbed into the hot, steaming water. He gave a heartfelt moan of appreciation as the warmth seeped over his bruised body.
Misreading the meaning of the moan, she turned to him. “Did you hurt yourself, Mr. Davis?” She held herself back from approaching any closer to the tub. When she saw his back was turned toward her, she relaxed. After watching this whole scenario work out, the wolf gave a disgusted snort and returned to his pallet in the darkness.
Not one to miss an opportunity with the ladies, Wals moaned again. “No, no, I’m better. This feels wonderful,” he added truthfully. “I, uh, I can’t reach the soap unless I get up,” pretending he was going to rise from the water.
Rose just about dove for the soap next to the tub and placed it in his outstretched hand. “Here it is. Sorry, but lilac soap and rye are the only two choices I have. The lilac is rather soothing. And the rye would probably rub raw on the sore spots.” She stopped talking when she realized she was probably rambling.
He brought the soap to his nose and inhaled. Now he knew where she got her fresh scent. “This is nice. I’ll probably be called a sissy by the soldiers when I get back to the Fort, but it is nice!”
Satisfied that she had done all she could for now and that he was covered up as much as possible under the circumstances, Rose settled back in her rocking chair and picked up her sewing. She couldn’t concentrate on her stitches and kept pricking her finger. “I don’t know what it is about needles, but I keep poking myself with them!” Her ears were attuned to the sounds behind her and her mind was in somewhat of a turmoil over the fact that the fascinating Wals Davis was actually in her cabin. Late at night. And unclothed. Oh, heavens! Her hand rose to cover her open mouth.
The splashing sounds coming from the tub slowly died off. Surreptitiously glancing back, she realized that Wals had fallen asleep. The aroma from his clothes piled behind the chair assaulted her nose again. Picking them up at arm’s length and averting her face, she wondered how she could possibly clean them this late at night. Shrugging, she tiptoed over to the tub and dropped them in the sudsy water near his submerged feet. Better than nothing, she figured.
Wals made quiet, sleepy sounds as he soaked. His head rested on the edge of the wooden tub. Stealing a look at his face, Rose again resisted the urge to reach over and brush that darling tendril of hair that had fallen over his forehead. Going back to her chair, she gave out a long sigh filled with frustration and longing. Wolf padded over to her and looked expectantly into her eyes. She rubbed his right ear and his eyes closed with pleasure. “Oh, Wolf,” she whispered. “What am I going to do? It’s Wals! I mean, Mr. Davis…. And he’s right here in my cabin…in my tub.” She sighed again. “I’ve listened to some of the stories he told at the Fort, but I didn’t know he was so funny!”
Wolf tilted his head. He hadn’t heard anything funny out of Wals tonight. Just some new pick-up lines. Wals was supposed to be figuring out how to get her back to their proper time, not start dating her. That is, if Wals even had the slightest remembrance of where he came from…. Wolf looked over into the fire, his eyes frowning. Maybe that’s what’s wrong. Wals was probably forgetting. The Island did that to people, Wolf knew. It sucked away their memories and lulled them into their new life. The shift might have been too much for Wals. It certainly got more difficult for Wolf each time…. How can he get Wals to remember his other life and want to go back? Wolf decided he needed to go talk to his father again. But, not tonight. This was all too interesting. Irritating, but interesting.
Rose still whispered on and on. Wolf knew she had been intrigued by the newcomer Wals, but underestimated the extent of her interest. He wondered if the interest she felt for Wals would come in handy later when it was time for all of them to leave. If she had feelings for him, she might be more apt to follow him through the terrifying vortex. “…and those brown eyes of his are simply mesmerizing,” she concluded with another soft sigh.
If Wolf could have rolled his eyes, he would have because he knew something Rose didn’t. Wals wasn’t asleep. He was listening intently to every word she said but Rose didn’t realize that. Darn egotist, Wolf thought. Before Rose revealed some innermost secret or desire she might regret later, Wolf had to do something. He left the delightful ear-rubbing he was getting and silently padded over to the washtub. With his superior height, he could easily see over the sides of the tall tub. He walked behind the pretending Wals and pressed his cold nose against the back of Wals’ neck. With a sta
rtled yelp, Wals jerked forward and caught himself just before he jumped to his feet.
“Oh, you’re awake.”
She missed the glare exchanged between the man and the wolf. It was then that Wals really saw those sapphire-blue eyes. A thread of remembrance wormed its way through his brain only to be pushed aside by the overriding thought that thiswas a wolf, a wolf, Wals! Seeing the encouraging flicker of recognition suddenly extinguish from Wals’ eyes, the disgusted Wolf turned and went back to his pallet and proceeded to chew the rest of the canoe paddle into kindling.
Trying to look contrite, Wals said hesitantly, “I hate to ask again since you have been so nice, Mrs. Stephens, but I really could use some help.”
Oh, lord. She slowly approached from behind, looking only at the back of his head over the edge of the tub. That was safe. “Yes, Mr. Davis?”
“I can’t reach my back.”
There was complete silence except for a loud snort from the wolf. “Umm, well, I, well,” she finally stammered. “I suppose I could help you.” This wasn’t what she had expected at all. She didn’t know what she had expected, but this wasn’t it.
“Oh, thank you, Mrs. Stephens. I ‘precciate it.” He leaned forward away from the tub and helpfully held out the soap and wash cloth out to the side for her.
“I’m going to burn in pits of Hades,” she mumbled under her breath. She frowned and looked away. “Where did that come from?” She broke off her musings when Wals managed a pitiful moan again.
“Mrs. Stephens? This position hurts my head. Could you start, please?” She couldn’t see his wide grin.
Her lips in a firm line, she squared her shoulders. He is a guest. He is injured. He needs my help. “Certainly, Mr. Davis.”
He sighed with pleasure as the soapy wash cloth moved tentatively over his broad shoulders. When he felt she had to be in just the right position, he groaned loudly and flung himself back against the tub. His action caused a wave of water to splash out of the tub and over the front of Rose’s nightdress, resulting in it being plastered to her body.
Wolf! The Legend of Tom Sawyer's Island Page 15