Wilderness Double Edition 27

by David Robbins

  Dega had waited for the white man to come close enough, and now he was. Shoving upright, he took a short step and threw his spear. It flashed through the air almost quicker than the eye could follow, but it was not quick enough. The spear was only halfway to its target when Graf’s rifle boomed and Dega was whipped half around by a jarring blow to his shoulder.

  ‘Dega!’ Evelyn cried. She squeezed the trigger, but Graf moved as she fired.

  The spear had sheared into Graf’s left arm, nearly tearing him from the saddle. All his muscles served him in good stead, as, with a yank on the reins, he wheeled his mount and disappeared into the greenery.

  ‘Who’s shooting?’ Bodin bellowed from off to the right.

  Evelyn’s legs seemed to have a mind of their own. She was up, her arm around Dega. Supporting him, she raced for their lives. He stayed with her, but he ran erratically, his legs threatening to buckle, his shoulder and chest marked by a spreading crimson stain.

  ‘Who the hell is shooting? Someone answer me!’

  Panic gnawed at Evelyn, fear Dega might die. ‘Can you make it?’ she whispered, and he nodded. His hand was to the wound and his teeth were clenched.

  From the commotion behind them, Evelyn deduced that Bodin and Mandingo were converging on Graf. It would keep them occupied a while. She went another fifty to sixty yards, until she came to a lightning-charred downed tree. Most of the limbs had broken off, but it was good cover. Sliding over the bole, she helped Dega to do the same, then said, ‘Sit down so I can examine you.’

  ‘We should run more,’ Dega objected.

  ‘Sit.’

  Frowning, Dega sank with his back to the tree. He had thought the pain in his ribs was bad; the bullet wound was worse.

  ‘Move your hand,’ Evelyn directed. On several occasions she had helped her mother treat gunshots, so she knew what to look for. Lightly probing with her fingers, she established that the slug had missed bone and gone clean through. Already the bleeding was slowing, which was another good sign. ‘It looks like you will live.’

  ‘But I weak,’ Dega said. ‘You go without me. I stay, slow them for you.’

  ‘Nothing doing,’ Evelyn responded. ‘We go together, or we do not go at all.’

  ‘You stubborn girl,’ Dega said. His greatest fear was not for him but for her. ‘You never listen.’

  ‘You have a lot to learn about females,’ Evelyn countered. ‘Everyone says we can be contrary and everyone is right. I’m not leaving you and that is final.’

  ‘Please,’ Dega begged, listening for pursuit. ‘We not have much time.’

  ‘I know. Which is why we should not waste it arguing.’ Evelyn set to reloading the rifle, her fingers flying. She was not as fast at it as her father or brother, but she was no slouch, either.

  Dega refused to give up. ‘What I do to get you go?’ If they had a horse, he would throw her on it and slap it on the rump.

  ‘And you say I am stubborn.’ Evelyn opened Teak’s powder-horn and measured the powder in her palm.

  ‘You want die?’

  ‘Don’t be silly. Save your breath for the fight we’ll soon have on our hands.’

  Dega was in turmoil. Evelyn could not get it through her head how fond he was of her. ‘You make me want hit something.’

  ‘Uncle Shakespeare says that is what women do best. You should be flattered. If I up and left you, it would show I don’t care.’

  That made no sense to Dega. He was so upset with her, he nearly did something the Nansusequa were trained from infancy never to do; he nearly lost his temper.

  ‘Glare at me all you want, but you’re stuck with me,’ Evelyn said as she slid the ramrod from its housing. ‘Admit it. You like it when I get your blood to boiling.’

  ‘I not like!’ Dega almost exploded. ‘Why you not listen? Why you not see truth?’

  ‘All I see is someone who can’t take a ribbing,’ Evelyn teased. ‘Simmer down before you burst a vein.’

  ‘You—you—you are—’ Dega could not find the white words. His emotions seething, he acted on impulse. He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek.

  ‘What was that for?’

  ‘I angry.’

  ‘What do you do when you are mad?’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Nothing.’ Evelyn tamped the ball down the barrel.

  ‘You go now?’

  ‘Because you kissed me?’ Laughing, Evelyn shook her head. ‘A peck won’t do it. You’re stuck with me.’

  ‘I could scream,’ Dega said.

  ‘Go right ahead. But they will hear you and know where we are.’ Evelyn leaned the rifle against the tree and drew the knife she had taken from Teak. She inserted the tip into her dress a couple of inches above the hem.

  ‘What you do?’

  ‘We need to bandage you and nothing else is handy.’ Evelyn cut in as straight a line as she could. She went all the way around so she had plenty of extra. ‘This might hurt a bit,’ she said as she eased his shoulder toward her so she could slip the bandage under his arm, and up and over.

  Dega’s face was so close to hers, her breath fanned his cheek. He averted his eyes, afraid of what she might see in them.

  ‘Do you still want to bite my head off?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You are a typical male,’ Evelyn teased. She made a mental note to wash and clean the wound as soon as they reached water.

  ‘I am upset male. You are pain in head.’

  ‘What a sweet thing to say.’

  Dega was beginning to wonder if he would ever understand her. She was so different from Nansusequa women. He started to ask her one more time to leave him, but she touched a finger to his lips.

  ‘Shhhhh. Listen.’

  The killers were after them again.

  Sixteen

  ‘Get down,’ Evelyn said, and pressed to the earth, the rifle by her side. She could not tell whether there were two horses or three. She hoped Graf’s wound had reduced the odds, but when she heard a whinny and cautiously rose up high enough to peer over the felled tree, she spied all three of them about thirty yards away roving back and forth in search of tracks. Graf’s arm was in a sling made from a piece of blanket. ‘Darn it,’ she whispered.

  ‘What?’

  ‘We still have all three to deal with. But the good news is they have lost our sign.’

  ‘I lost spear,’ Dega said. ‘Need make new one.’ Without one he would be of little use to her.

  ‘Here.’ Evelyn held out a pistol she had taken from Teak. ‘This will have to do until then.’

  Dega was dubious, but he accepted the gun. He had only ever fired one a few times, and he was not much good at it. He wished he had brought his bow as well as his lance.

  Bodin was in a foul mood. He glared at his companions and at the ground. ‘They have to be around here somewhere. We’re not giving up until we find them.’

  ‘They took Teak’s weapons,’ Graf said.

  ‘So?’ Bodin snapped. ‘It’s a girl, for God’s sake. And an Injun not much more than a boy.’

  ‘That boy put a spear in me.’

  ‘You were careless. They’re children, and if we can’t lick them, we should give up this life and take up farming.’

  ‘I want the girl,’ Mandingo interjected. ‘She is all I have thought of since we first saw her.’

  Bodin swore. ‘Keep your mind on what we’re doing or you’ll end up like Graf.’

  ‘Don’t worry. They won’t catch me off-guard,’ Mandingo boasted.

  Still arguing, they passed within a stone toss of the downed tree and rode on off into the timber.

  Evelyn waited until she was sure they were out of sight and earshot, then stood. ‘Come on.’ She offered her hand to Dega.

  He braced himself on the tree with his good arm and slowly rose.

  ‘This way,’ Evelyn said. Sliding over the top, she headed east.

  Dega slid over after her. ‘But pass that way,’ he said, pointing to the west.


  ‘If you think I am leaving without Buttercup, you have another think coming.’ Evelyn had a plan. ‘Those three are not as smart as they think they are. They left my horse and Teak’s and the two pack animals back at their camp with no one to guard them.’

  ‘What if they come back?’

  ‘This has become cat and mouse, and on foot we are the mice. We need those horses. Once we are on horseback they will not catch us.’

  Dega did not share her confidence, but he admired her courage. She had an inner strength that was most uncommon. She would make a fine mate for the man who proved worthy.

  Evelyn wanted to run, but she held to a walk out of worry over Dega’s condition. He was still weak and burning with fever. She stopped often and made a show of listening, but she really did it so as not to tire him.

  Presently, they came to the stream. Teak lay where he had fallen in a pool of drying blood.

  Evelyn avoided looking at the body and hurried past. The horses had been tethered so they would not run off. ‘Our guardian angel is watching over us. Do you need help climbing on?’

  ‘No,’ Dega said. He did not know what a guardian angel was, and would ask her later. At the moment he was finding it difficult to concentrate. The walk had exhausted him. His head was spinning. Gripping the mane of Teak’s horse, he pulled himself up. He was appalled at how much effort it took. He made it, but he nearly collapsed.

  ‘Do you need to rest?’ Evelyn was watching him closely and did not like what she saw.

  ‘I be fine,’ Dega lied. He refused to slow her down; he would keep up if it killed him.

  Evelyn went to climb on Buttercup. She happened to glance at the pack animals, still burdened with furs, and had an inspiration. Grinning, she drew her knife and ran to them.

  ‘What you do?’ Dega asked.

  ‘One bad turn deserves another.’ Evelyn cut the rope that held the furs in place on the first pack horse. All it took was a shove and they toppled to the ground. She darted to the second pack horse and spilled those furs, too. Then, laughing, she scooted back to Buttercup and climbed on.

  To Dega the act seemed childish, a fit of spite that served no purpose. ‘All that do is make them mad.’

  ‘If that were all it would still be enough,’ Evelyn said. ‘But they will not want to leave the furs lying there in the dirt. In the time it takes them to gather the hides up, we can go another mile or two.’

  Dega’s admiration for her rose to new heights. ‘You always thinking.’

  ‘Blame my pa. He made thinkers of my brother and me, although my brother tends to do his with steel and lead.’

  Yet another allusion Dega struggled to grasp. ‘You kind of woman man happy have in lodge.’

  ‘That will be the day.’ Evelyn gigged Buttercup. ‘Come on. We will circle around and head for the pass. Once we are through it, we’ll be safe.’

  Dega had not gone far when he was covered with sweat. His shoulder throbbed. But it was his side that grew worse by the moment. His cracked or broken ribs could not take being on horseback. But he gamely rode on. It did not help that he felt as if he were burning up. After a while, though, he felt as cold as ice, and could not stop shivering. Then he felt hot again. His vision blurred, and he shook his head to dear it.

  Evelyn glanced back at him now and then. He was paler than ever, and she saw him tremble. She knew they should stop, but if they did, Bodin and the others might catch up to them. She was in a quandary as to what to do. The decision was made for her seconds later when she heard a thud.

  Dega did not realize he had fallen until he felt Evelyn’s hands gently rolling him onto his back. ‘Sorry,’ he breathed.

  Evelyn pressed her hand to his forehead. He was hotter than before. ‘This is as far as we go.’

  ‘No. Leave me,’ Dega managed to croak.

  ‘Not on your life. We’re in this together.’ Evelyn picked up the pistol he had dropped and tucked it under her belt. Gazing about them, she saw a pine with boughs low to the ground. Sliding her hands under his shoulders, she attempted to boost him to his feet, but he was too heavy. So she dragged him instead. ‘If this hurts too much, say so and I will stop.’

  The pain was almost unbearable, but Dega ground his teeth and did not give in. All he could think of was what the killers would do, and it would be his fault. ‘Please go,’ he tried once more.

  ‘Hush, will you?’ Evelyn hastily made a bed of pine needles and got him to lay on his back on top of it. Then she ran to bring the horses. She figured she had two or three hours before Bodin and his friends showed up. It would give her time to prepare.

  Dega struggled to stay awake. His body craved sleep and his eyelids were heavy. He heard her sit next to him and felt her hand take his. ‘I lot of trouble.’

  ‘You would do the same for me,’ Evelyn said, and stroked his cheek. ‘Now I want you to lie quiet and rest. It will be dark before long. You can sleep the night through and we will head home in the morning, provided you are up to it.’

  ‘But those men—’

  ‘You let me worry about them,’ Evelyn said. And she was worried. They were hardened cutthroats, and she was just a girl. As the saying went, she might be biting off more than she could chew, but she had to do it.

  Dega had so much he wanted to say. Foremost, he desired to impress on her how sorry he was for being a burden. It tore him up inside to realize she might die because of him. ‘Please,’ he said.

  ‘Not that again.’

  Dega squeezed her hand with all the strength he could muster, which wasn’t much. ‘For me. So I not have shame.’

  ‘That is your fever talking,’ Evelyn replied. ‘You have nothing to be ashamed of. And I will not desert you.’

  ‘I like you, Evelyn.’

  ‘So you keep saying. I thank you for your friendship, but I wish you would shut up and sleep.’

  Dega looked at her. She did not understand. She did not understand at all. ‘You special,’ he tried again, but could say no more. He closed his eyes against the dizziness but it did not help. Despite himself, he groaned. He experienced the sensation that he was falling, but how could that be when he was lying on the ground? A black whirlpool yawned and he was powerless to resist.

  Evelyn saw him go limp. ‘Dega?’ When he did not respond, she put her ear to his chest. His heart was beating, slow but strong. ‘Thank God.’

  Standing, Evelyn untied her bedroll from her saddle, spread out a blanket, and covered Dega from his feet to his chin. Then she sat and held his hand in her lap.

  She suddenly felt tired. She had been through a lot, with no rest and no food. Leaning against the pine, she gazed down at Dega, drinking in his handsome face. She ran the tip of a finger along his eyebrow and smiled at her boldness. ‘What am I going to do with you?’ she asked softly. ‘Why have you come into my life?’

  They were questions she had asked herself many times in the past several weeks. Questions she could not answer.

  Buttercup nickered. It reminded Evelyn she had a lot to do before their enemies arrived. Since it was just her now, she must rely on her wits more than ever.

  Evelyn rose to her knees and began scooping pine needles onto the blanket. She covered it completely, then sprinkled needles on his forehead, chin and neck. Stepping back, she surveyed her handiwork and nodded in satisfaction. From a distance he would blend into the ground.

  ‘I hope you live,’ Evelyn said. Then, taking hold of the reins of both horses, she led them back the way they had come, a good fifty yards, and tied them to trees. She stroked and kissed Buttercup, saying, ‘You have been the best horse I ever owned.’

  Evelyn faced to the north. That was the direction Bodin and the others would come from. She hiked for several minutes, searching all the while for a suitable spot to make her stand.

  She was under no illusion about the outcome. Three against one. They were proficient at taking life and she was not. So far, luck had seen her through, but her luck would not hold forever.

 
A large spruce seemed as likely a tree as any. Making sure both pistols were tight under her belt, Evelyn held the rifle by the barrel, and climbed. The limbs were close together and would screen her from scrutiny. She settled with her back to the bole and her legs wrapped around a thick branch.

  From her vantage, Evelyn could see a considerable way. She was nervous, and growing more so. She did not want to die. She was young yet, and there was much she had not seen and done that she would like to. She thought of her mother and father and how loving they were, and of her brother and how dearly she cared for him even though he could be such a pain. She thought of how when she was younger, her father would sit at the table most nights and read to them while their mother rocked in the rocking chair by the fire, sewing or darning. She recalled the fun times they’d had, the picnics they went on, the long rides for the pleasure of riding, the weeks each summer they spent with the Shoshones.

  ‘I have had a good life,’ Evelyn said to herself.

  In the distance a pair of ravens cawed and took wing.

  Evelyn checked the rifle and pistols. She turned the pistols so the butts faced outward for a cross draw. She loosened the knife in its sheath.

  A doe and two fawns came bounding out of the undergrowth. They stopped and the doe looked back. Her ears erect, she gave a snort. Mother and young were soon out of sight.

  Evelyn craned her neck but did not see them yet. It would not be long. She held out her right hand and scowled. Her fingers were shaking. Making a fist, she shook it.

  ‘You can do this. You are a King, and you can do this.’

  She envied her brother. He could kill without a qualm. Even as a boy, his sole ambition was to count coup. He had always looked forward to the day he would be a full-fledged warrior.

  Sparrows took wing, chirping excitedly.

  Evelyn tensed.

  There they were, all three of them, spread out twenty yards apart. Bodin was in the middle, Mandingo on the right, Graf the left. They had their eyes on the ground.