Early Dawn

by Catherine Anderson

  “Holy Mother, girl, you can shoot! That was a whole lot more impressive than knocking acorns off a tree.”

  Eden’s eyes welled with tears. He could have died. She snapped her gaze to the horses and mule. All three were still quivering, but they’d stopped rearing and screaming now.

  “Matthew,” Eden said in a low-pitched voice, “move away. I think it’s a snake den. I saw them go down only one hole, but there could be other exit points. Get the animals out of there.”

  He glanced around at the rocks that lined the stream. At the other side of the waterway, a shale cliff rose toward the sky, reaching as high as the trees. His blue gaze locked on hers. “I’ve never come across a den until now, thank God, but I must be standing on top of it, and so are the horses.”

  Eden nodded and swiftly reloaded both guns. When she’d done that, she dropped down to one knee, ready if she had to be. “Lead the horses and mule away. Now. I’ll cover you.”

  He glanced around again. His jaw muscle started to work. “How many snakes are normally in a den?”

  “I have no idea, but it’s spring; they’re venturing forth, and you have to get out of there.”

  He locked gazes with her. “If I’m on top of a den, the snakes could strike again. Horses are heavy and vibrate the earth with every step. I can’t lead them and the mule away with a gun in my hand.”

  “You won’t need a gun. I’ve got you covered. Trust me and move.”

  He glanced around again. Then he stepped softly over to gather up all the dangling reins. “If it’s a den and they bite the horses, our asses will be grass. We can’t evade the Sebastians on foot.”

  The Sebastians were the least of Eden’s concerns right then. She just wanted Matthew away from the danger that he’d unwittingly waded into. Her fingers were ready on the triggers of both guns. When the horses and mule started to move, sending vibrations through the earth, Eden scanned the ground all around Matthew and the animals. As she feared, there was more than one hole leading from the den. When serpents poked up their heads, flicking their forked tongues at the air, she took aim, fired, and killed them before they could come out.

  When Matthew reached her, he dropped to his knees, swiped his jacket sleeve over his mouth, and just sat there on his boot heels for a long moment. “You truly are the most amazing woman. I thought I was dead. I reached to cup some water in my hands, and there it was, right beside me. I was afraid to breathe, let alone move. It could have killed me, biting me that close to my heart. You blew the bastard’s head off at thirty feet.”

  “Go on and get the animals out of here, Matthew. God only knows how many of them there are, or where they are.”

  He pushed erect and led the horses and mule back to the clearing. Eden remained where she was until he and the animals were safely away. As she hurried after him, she knew all of them were still at risk. When she reached him, she said, “We’ve got to get away from this place. I know nothing about snake dens, but I’m guessing not all of them are inside it.”

  He checked the horses and mule for bites. All three animals had escaped without injury. He picked up Smoky’s saddle, then let it drop and stared at her. “You saved my life.”

  Eden was still standing guard, watching for snakes. “You would have done the same for me.”

  “I’ve never seen anyone shoot like that. I thought you might hit one of the horses, but you didn’t. You’re incredible, Eden, absolutely incredible.”

  “You didn’t do too badly yourself.”

  He went back to work, moving fast so they could ride. Eden kept her guns drawn. So many snakes. Just thinking about them made her skin crawl. “Why are they out in such great numbers at this time of year?”

  “Spring is the time of new life,” he replied as he handed her the reins of the bay. “When I led the horses over the top of their den, I reckon I got a bunch of protective mamas all stirred up.”

  Ever conscious of her tender ribs, Eden held her breath as she swung up into the saddle. “We need to stay alert. I have no idea how far snakes wander from a den. This whole area may be infested.”

  “I’ll keep an eye out.”

  He led the way, guns at the ready, and she followed, thanking God every step of the way that she hadn’t lain back there in the delicious warmth of the sun and fallen asleep, as she’d yearned to do. Matthew would have been bitten, and the horses and mule as well. She would have been left alone out here, and on foot. But she knew her emotions were about more than herself. Matthew. When she’d seen that snake near his elbow, her heart had almost stopped. She cared far more for him than was wise—or even explainable. If something happened to him, she didn’t know what she would do.

  She drew in an uneven breath and slowly released it, trying to stop shaking. Now that it was all over, her joints felt as if they had dissolved.

  Raising his voice to call back to her over his shoulder, he said, “I think we’re probably far enough away now to stop worrying about snakes, unless we count the two-legged kind.”

  Eden’s heart skittered with fear again. All the gunfire. “Oh, God, Matthew, do you think the Sebastians heard us shooting?”

  “The sound can travel quite a distance. If they’re anywhere in this general vicinity, they may have heard it. We need to ride, and ride hard, honey. Get as far away from this area as we can. Otherwise we’re liable to get some unwanted company.”

  He urged Smoky into a fast trot. Eden’s mount increased speed to keep up. Over the next several hours, they pushed the horses, alternating between a fast pace and a walk so the animals could have a breather. Eden knew they were covering a lot of ground. She could only pray it would be enough.

  At dusk, they stopped to rest the horses, but as soon as full darkness descended, they lit out again and rode all night. Eden assumed they were going in another circle, but she became too exhausted to note which direction they were headed at any given time. She just kept her gaze fixed on Matthew and followed wherever he led.

  At dawn, they stopped to eat, rest the horses for a few hours, and sleep. Eden was still bone-tired when Matthew awakened her. “I’m sorry, Eden. I know you’re beat, but we need to get moving again.”

  They rode steadily for the remainder of that day, stopping only to give the animals rest periods. When twilight finally darkened the forest, Matthew deemed it safe for them to find a place to camp for the night. They built no fire and ate only jerky for supper. Immediately after the meager meal, Eden rolled out their bedding, lay down, and slipped into a dreamless sleep.

  Eden awakened the next morning to full sunlight and the delicious smell of fresh coffee. Crouched over a tiny fire, Matthew grinned at her as she sat up.

  “Mornin’, sleepyhead.”

  As much as Eden looked forward to a cup of coffee, she glanced worriedly at the flames. “Is that safe? What if they see the smoke?”

  “The little smoke this puts off won’t be seen from afar. I also think we’ve put enough distance between us and that snake pit to relax a little now. If we got really lucky, the Sebastians stumbled onto it.”

  Eden loved the thought of that, snakes happening upon snakes.

  “I kept the fire small just to be safe, but it probably isn’t necessary. We cut so many loops getting here that they shouldn’t be able to follow us.”

  “Does that mean we can go at a slower pace today?”

  “It does.”

  That was welcome news. Every joint in Eden’s body ached. She didn’t look forward to being in the saddle again, let alone at a bone-jarring trot for much of the day. “I’m glad.”

  “You’ve done great,” he told her. “I know this has been hard on you.”

  “It’s been even harder on the animals.”

  Eden helped him fix a quick breakfast and do the dishes. Then they took turns going down to the stream to wash up. Though she knew it was silly, Eden kept a sharp eye out for snakes as she performed her ablutions. When she returned to camp, Matthew had already packed the gear and had the hors
es saddled. It was all she could do not to groan. Mounting back up was the last thing she wanted to do.

  Blessed with a sunny nature, Eden had reconciled herself to another day in the saddle before the hour was out. Until her brothers showed up, she would be riding around in circles behind Matthew Coulter. There was no alternative. Moaning and groaning about it, even if only to herself, would just sour her mood and make an already difficult situation worse.

  She decided to focus on the positive. First and foremost, at least she liked her traveling companion and enjoyed his company. Even when they quarreled, they ended up laughing. Eden was also well schooled in the edible flora of Colorado, compliments of her mother, so she didn’t think she and Matthew were going to starve.

  In hopes of adding to their food stores, she began keeping an eye out for plants they might eat. Over the course of the afternoon, she managed to collect a goodly number of groundnuts, a tuber that tasted a lot like sweet potatoes; cattail shoots, which would be delicious simmered; some false Solomon’s seal, a great substitute for asparagus; and the makings for a salad—wild lettuce, amaranth, wild onions, and dandelion leaves. She even found some citrus oregano, a wonderful spice for meat, and a nice bunch of yellow morel mushrooms that would be lovely fried up with whatever meat Matthew got that night.

  All the dismounting and remounting to collect plants took a huge toll on Eden’s energy, but she insisted, despite Matthew’s protests. He helped with the digging and picking, but it was still a lot of work. By evening, when he finally located a good spot to camp near a stream, she had to concede that he’d been right to discourage all her foraging. She was so tired it was difficult to put one foot in front of the other one, let alone contemplate cooking. Nevertheless, she couldn’t allow the bounty they had collected in the folds of her traveling skirt to go to waste. After depositing the food on the ground, she began gathering rocks to build a fire pit, then searched for firewood while Matthew tended to the animals. By the time he’d finished his chores, Eden had a fire going, had washed all the vegetables, and was enjoying a cup of coffee.

  “What kind of meat do you hope to get tonight?” she asked.

  He went to a pack that he seldom opened and withdrew a bow and arrows she hadn’t realized he had. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for some real meat for a change. I’ve seen a lot of deer sign today. I think I’ll go try my luck.”

  “Some venison would be delicious.” Just thinking about it made Eden’s stomach rumble.

  “Better than gnawing on jerky and rabbit bones. It takes me a little longer to find large game, but I think it’ll be worth the effort.”

  “You won’t go far, I hope.”

  “If you fire a shot, I’ll be here in two blinks. Just keep your guns handy.”

  While Matthew was out hunting, Eden took advantage of his absence to bathe, wash her hair, and launder her clothes. Per his warning, she placed the Colts on a rock within easy reach. After entering the water, she was once again assailed with the compulsion to scour her skin, but she managed to talk herself through the moment. As she dried off, she made a mental note to wash the linen towel after Matthew finished using it later. The cloth was so thin that it would easily dry by morning if she draped it near the fire.

  Binding her ribs tightly by herself once again proved to be nearly impossible, so she saved the long strip of knotted cloth, resigned to revealing her bare stomach to Matthew again before the evening was over. The extra support truly did help to ease the pain in her side, and now she was loath to go without it.

  She was sitting cross-legged by the fire trying to dry her thick hair when Matthew rode back into camp. He’d removed his leather jacket, and in the twilight, she could see that his tanned, corded forearms were smeared with blood up to the rolled-back sleeves of his blue shirt. Behind him, an already gutted deer lay over Smoky’s haunches.

  “You got one!” As Eden walked toward him, she experienced a momentary pang of sadness for the deer, but it quickly passed. Without meat, and plenty of it, she and Matthew wouldn’t survive a prolonged stay in the wilderness. “Good job.”

  As he dragged the dead animal off the horse, Eden noted that it was a small buck. Normally, fawns in this country were born in early June. She would have felt dreadful if helpless babies had been left alone in the woods to starve just so she might eat.

  “I’m glad it’s not a doe,” she mused aloud.

  “Wouldn’t shoot a doe unless I was desperate. Even in deep snow when we were low on meat, my pa always brought in a buck, never a doe.” He glanced up. “They keep the deer population strong.”

  Eden drew her jacket more snugly around her. The evening air had developed a bite. “Does it snow a lot on the Lazy J?”

  “It snows so deep we have to jack up the cows to milk them.”

  Eden laughed softly. “That’s pretty darned deep.”

  “You need to be long in the leg to wade through the stuff after a storm. We spend a lot of time shoveling paths—that’s for sure.”

  He jabbed his knife through the sinew and tendons just above the buck’s hocks, shoved a sturdy branch through the openings, and soon had the animal hanging head down from a tree. Watching him work, Eden couldn’t help but notice the play of muscle in his arms and shoulders, the masculine taper of his upper torso to a narrow waist and lean hips, and the powerful contours of his thighs. He moved with fluid strength, everything about him so male and attractive that Eden’s knees felt a bit watery. Exhaustion, she assured herself, but even as the thought moved through her mind, her gaze went to his big hands, which looked so capable and strong, yet always touched her with such gentleness.

  Within minutes he’d skinned the deer and trimmed away some of the backstrap. Using a fallen log as a work surface, he wielded the knife with skill born of long practice and then handed Eden four butterflied steaks. She took the meat down to the creek to clean it. When she got back to camp, she started preparing their meal while Matthew finished cutting up the deer.

  When he had washed up and joined her at the fire, Eden had a five-course meal ready—seasoned steak slathered with morel-mushroom gravy, pan-roasted groundnuts, mountain asparagus, simmered cattail shoots, and a mixed green salad. Matthew’s eyes widened when she handed him a filled plate and a steaming cup of coffee.

  “This is a meal fit for a king.”

  Pleased, Eden said, “My mother is fascinated by wild flora and passed her interest on to all of us. I learned a lot about Colorado’s edible plants during my visits to No Name. We went on horseback rides and lots of walks. She’s a font of information and has taught me most of what she knows.” She swung an arm. “God’s general store. If you know what to look for, there are all sorts of things to eat out here.”

  He took a bite of cattail, chewed for a moment, and then arched his eyebrows. “These are good. I won’t complain tomorrow about you stopping to collect food.” He murmured even more appreciatively when he tasted the groundnuts. “What are these?”

  Eden chewed and swallowed. “Indian potatoes. My mother calls them groundnuts. They sprout underground from a vine with purple flowers. You can harvest them year-round, but they’re best in the fall. My sister-in-law Caitlin gathers them every autumn to use over the winter. They’re supposedly more nutritious than regular potatoes.”

  “Nutritious or not, they’re flat tasty.”

  He made similar comments about the asparagus and salad, but he especially loved the tender venison steaks in mushroom gravy.

  “I can’t believe you put a meal like this together with stuff you found,” he said.

  “I didn’t do it all by myself. You helped. My thought is to utilize as many wild plants as we can to make our rations from town last longer.”

  He nodded. Then he grew quiet, his expression solemn as he ate. When his plate was clean, he glanced up and flashed a crooked, decidedly sheepish grin. “I have to apologize again. I should never have said you don’t have what it takes to be a rancher’s wife.” A twinkle danc
ed in his eyes. “You’ve been dragged from pillar to post for so long I’ve lost track of the days, the last two of them pure hell. Yet, here we are, eating a meal you mostly put together by finding food along the trail.”

  “Well, all my trimmings would have tasted bland without your contribution of the fresh meat. Let’s just say it was a joint effort and pat each other on the back.”

  “I definitely don’t want to make the mistake of patting you on the head.”

  She gulped back a giggle. “Will I ever hear the end of that?”

  “Probably not.” He fell into another brief silence. “I don’t really blame you for getting your back up that morning. I meant to tell you so that night, but we ran into the snakes, and I never got the chance.”

  She tried to speak, but he cut her off.

  “It was high-handed and sneaky of me to make a decision and then put off telling you for so long. I honestly wasn’t playing games, though. I just knew how exhausted you were, and I figured it wouldn’t be news you’d be glad to hear, so I kept it from you for as long as I could.”

  Eden took a thoughtful sip of coffee. “I overreacted.” She slanted him an apologetic smile. “It wasn’t news I wanted to hear. I’d been comforting myself with the thought that I could do anything for a little while longer. When I realized that a little while might be extended into weeks—well, it was overwhelming. Your comment earlier about my not cutting the mustard as a rancher’s wife was still bothering me, too. The combination of it all—my exhaustion, my stung pride, and facing weeks on the trail—well, it sent me reeling, I guess. The next instant, I’d moved from annoyance into a full-blown temper.” She lifted her shoulders. “I have a quick temper, and when it gets the better of me, I’m not always reasonable. I insisted on saddling the horse to prove something. I’m not sure what, exactly, but it made sense to me at the time.”

  He chuckled. “I understood.” He turned the tin cup in his big hands. After gazing into the dregs of his coffee, he looked at her again. “I shouldn’t have said that to you, Eden. It was a complete lie, and I really am sorry.” He pushed up the brim of his hat and rubbed a hand over his eyes. “The truth is, you’d make any man a fine wife. You’ve got more grit than any woman I know, including my mother, and she has enough sand to smooth a rough-cut board.”