Katie Watson Mysteries in Time Box Set

by Mez Blume

  Jim Weaver stopped rummaging. He was watching me thoughtfully, bent down beside the trunk. “She’s part of your past?” he finished for me.

  I nodded.

  He got up and sat on the corner of the trunk, scratching his whiskery chin. “There’s an old Cherokee sayin’, goes somethin’ like ‘Don’t let yesterdy use up too much of today.’ You were right, what you said about hidin’ from the past. I reckon it’s comin’ with us whether we like it or not. But you can’t live there. You gotta keep on keepin’ on.”

  I let the words turn over in my mind as he unrolled a large animal skin and started laying objects on it from the trunk, one by one.

  “Maybe,” I hesitated. “Maybe if the truth comes out about Blunt, things could be different for you and Ka-Ti. Better than they are now.”

  He started rolling up the skin with all the objects inside it. “Could be I’ll wind up back in jail.” He laughed a dry laugh as he tied some twine around the rolled-up knapsack. “But as for Kingfisher ….” He turned his eyes toward the cabin where Ka-Ti was busily packing up food. I could hear her singing happily as she worked. “Will McKay’s been a good friend to her. Her only friend, up ’til you came along. Could be if I go to prison … or worse… his folks’ll take her in again. Maybe one day she’ll be one of the family. Things could be better for my girl.”

  Just then, Ka-Ti appeared in the doorway. She had changed out of her skirt into deerskin breeches and braided her long hair. She had a bundle tied to her back and a smile on her face.

  Jim Weaver stood up and looked me up and down, as if just seeing me for the first time. “You don’t mean to go trackin’ kidnappers and rescuin’ people in a dress?”

  I looked down at the filthy, tattered dress Ulma had given me what felt like ages ago. “Well I’d rather not, but I don’t have much choice. This is all I’ve got.”

  He shook his head. “Kingfisher, get this girl some decent trackin’ clothes. Then let’s get huntin’.”

  28

  A Chilling Rescue

  The grey horse greeted me with a friendly whinny.

  “What do you call him?” Ka-Ti asked above a whisper as she stroked the nose of her beautiful black-and-white paint horse.

  “I don’t know what Lieutenant Lovegood calls him, but I suppose I should think of something.” I looked into the horse’s eye, trying to get inspiration for a name. “What should I call you?” I mumbled.

  “How ‘bout callin’ him Giddyup?” the mountain man grumbled as he threw a blanket over his big, buckskin stallion’s back. “This ain’t no pony show. We got work to do.”

  Ka-Ti and I exchanged a look, both of us trying not to smile. Ever since Jim Weaver had agreed to lead this rescue mission, he seemed as eager to get going as if it’d been his idea.

  The other two mounted their horses. I swung myself up onto the still nameless grey horse, grateful for the soft deerskin breeches Ka-Ti had loaned me. Then, with Jim in the lead, me in the middle and Ka-Ti in the rear, we trotted out of the small paddock at the base of Raccoon Mountain and into the almost pitch-black forest.

  In the dark, my senses sprang to alert. The forest was wide awake. I could hear the river gurgling and lapping the rocks in the distance, an owl’s hoo hoo ho HOO in the treetops, a toad’s croak, some small creature scurrying through the underbrush, and all the while the gentle, steady fall of the three horses’ hooves.

  Every now and again, I would hear Jim’s horse slowing pace just before his hand shot up for us to halt. Then he’d jump down and spend any number of minutes walking in circles, sniffing plants, getting right down on his knees to examine the dirt in a tiny patch of moonlight. Eventually, he’d mount his horse again and carry on confidently, as if the forest had told him exactly what he needed to know.

  It went on for ages like this, stopping and starting, nobody speaking. I was beginning to find it extremely challenging to hold up my drooping eyelids. Gravity seemed to have a hold on my head too. It kept dipping to one shoulder, then jerking back up with a painful throb. Just when I thought I couldn’t fight it any longer, Jim turned his horse to a new trail down a steep hill through the trees. At the bottom, rippling like a giant black snake, was the river. He rode right down the bank until his horse’s front legs stood ankle deep in the water, then jumped down and went straight to inspecting the ground again. Out from under the trees, I could see his outline, lit up blue in the moonlight, as he stood, gazed out over the water, nodded and turned back. This time he didn’t mount his horse but waved for us to dismount and join him on the river’s edge.

  “What do you see?” I whispered, squinting into the darkness.

  He pointed to the opposite bank of the river towards a flickering light.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Ain’t you never seen a fire before?” Jim unstrapped the rolled-up animal skin and heaved it off the horse’s back. He laid it on the ground and rolled it out. Taking two little pewter cups, he handed one to me and the other to Ka-Ti. “Get yerselves some water, and water them horses too.”

  I took the cup, but stood there for a second, feeling confused. “But what about the fire? Do you think it’s them?”

  He sat back on his heels and wiped his brow. “Only one way to find out, and you leave that to me. Now drink up.”

  We all filled our cups in the river. I splashed my face with the icy water so I was wide awake. Then Ka-Ti passed around the dried meat and apples. We fed the horses the apples and sat around tearing off chewy bites of meat in silence. Jim finished long before the two of us and got up. Before I knew it, he’d pulled off his rifle, hat, deerskin coat and set to pulling off his boots. I looked at Ka-Ti. She was watching her father too with a worried expression.

  “You gals should get some rest,” Jim whispered, laying the things he’d just shed on a rock. “I’ll be back before first light.”

  “But where—” I began.

  “Can’t wait for sunup to find out if them there’s the scum that snatched yer cousin, now can we?” And before I could answer, he waded out into the river and disappeared under the surface.

  I looked at Ka-Ti again, speechless.

  She gave a small smile back, but her eyebrows gave away that she was anxious. She took blankets from her horse’s back and gave me one, then found a nook between two rocks and curled up in her own. I laid out my blanket and curled up inside it.

  I had been aching to sleep for hours, but now I couldn’t do it. With every little gurgle or splash, my eyes opened to see if it was Jim coming up out of the river to say whether he’d found Imogen on the other side. What if they didn’t have her anymore? Or she was hurt? What if it wasn’t the peddlers at all, but some of Blunt’s men out looking for me? If they caught Jim … I refused to finish the thought. I just lay there and listened.

  Somehow or other, I must’ve dozed off. The next thing I knew was the sound of the mountain man’s deep gravelly voice. I opened my eyes and rolled over. The world had that dim, misty greyness of first light, and I could make out much more of our surroundings now. Ka-Ti was putting a blanket over her father’s shoulders. I sat up as he walked over to my mat and sat down on a stone, dripping wet. He didn’t immediately speak. He was busy fumbling with a little leather pouch which I soon realised was his pipe bag. It took him a minute to light it up, his hands were shaking so much, but he managed and took several long draughts while I waited, holding my breath, for the news.

  “Yer cousin.” His teeth rattled. “Has she got kinda yeller and brown hair, ‘bout so long?” He touched the side of his shoulder.

  “Yes. Yes, that’s Imogen!” I was on my feet in a flash. “Is she ok? Did she look all right? They didn’t see you, did they?” My heart was racing. I stared with all my might across the river as if I could see Imogen for myself.

  “Just hold yer horses there, Miss Fire-Hair. She looks just fine, as far as I could tell in the dark. In fact, I think she heard me creepin’ up on ‘em. Looked sceered to death, but she was the only one a
wake, hands and feet all tied up while th’other four all slept flat out. Bunch of bottles of moonshine lying ‘round the campfire, so I reckon they won’t be too quick gettin’ up this mornin’.” He stood, throwing the blanket off his shoulders. “Still, we ain’t got no time to lose sittin’ here.”

  “How’re we gonna get her across the river?” I asked. After all the Uktena stories, I felt pretty sure Imogen would rather suffer her kidnappers than brave swimming across those murky waters.

  “They got a canoe over there. Looks like a Cherokee dugout.”

  My eyes popped. “That’s Grasshopper’s canoe. So the peddlers stole that too …,”

  “Peddlers? More like professional thieves.” He was rolling up the animal skin again with everything inside it. “I’d be willin’ to bet my horse those men are workin’ for Blunt.”

  I frowned. “They had a whole wagon full of Cherokee goods. Probably payment for doing Blunt’s dirty work.”

  Jim grunted, then got to his feet and looked at me as if he were sizing me up. “You any kind a swimmer?”

  I glanced at the river and gulped, remembering the shock of icy water on my face. “I can swim all right.”

  “Then here’s the plan.”

  By the time he’d finished explaining, I was already shivering with the anticipation of what I had to do, but determined to grit my teeth and go through with it. I took off my moccasins, my quiver and hip pouch, bundled them up in one of the blankets and handed the bundle to Ka-Ti. She braced my arm and looked into my eyes, a look that said all the encouragement I needed.

  Jim was already up to his knees in the river, waiting for me. I stepped lightly over the smooth, cold river rocks and dipped my first foot into the water. A rush of ice travelled up my veins, right to the top of my head, but I bit my lip, determined not to gasp. Jim nodded to Ka-Ti, then turned and shrank into the water until only his head floated on the surface. I closed my eyes, took a staggered breath and walked forward.

  It was like hundreds of needles prickling my skin all at once. My throat closed off, but I took short, quick breaths through my nose until at last my body was submerged. My toes just touched the slimy river bottom. I inched forward, my arms circling in a frog-like stroke. By the middle of the river, I’d almost got used to the cold. Jim was waiting just beyond.

  “Now remember, you take this knife and cut yer cousin free. Get her into that canoe without so much as a sneeze. Then wait for me.” I nodded and followed him as he slowly, silently raised himself out of the water and crept, crouched low, up the bank. He stretched his head up, had a look around, and waved me to go forward. The idea was that Imogen would be less likely to scream out if she saw me first. At least I hoped, after all she’d been through, she still had enough sense to stay quiet.

  I took the knife from his hand and forced my frozen fingers around its handle, then crept up the bank, squatting low as he had done. When I reached level ground, it was just as Jim had said. The men lay around the smoking fire snoring, their mouths hanging open, arms flung in every direction. Smashed glass and half-empty bottles were everywhere. My eyes travelled just beyond the mess.

  There she was, tied to a tree with her head slumped down on her chest, fast asleep. Carefully stepping over chunks of glass, I reached the tree, lowered the knife and laid my icy hand on Imogen’s bare arm.

  With a gasp, she lifted her head. She blinked wide eyes, but I didn’t need to hush her. The peddlers had already seen to that by tying a gag in her mouth. As I picked up the knife and started carving away at her ropes, I glanced up to see silent tears streaming down Imogen’s cheeks. I squeezed one of the hands I had just freed and smiled at her, trying to convey the silent encouragement Ka-Ti had given me at the river.

  As soon as I got the gag off, waterfalls started pouring from Imogen’s eyes. I helped her up to her feet, and, hand in hand, we tip-toe ran around the sleeping thieves and climbed down the bank. Jim Weaver, crouched down just out of sight, gave me a wink as we reached the canoe and disappeared up the bank. Imogen climbed into the canoe, and I pushed it halfway out before climbing in after her.

  We held each other’s hands, waiting, listening, Imogen still crying silent rivers. A second later, Jim slid down the bank with his arms full. He quietly dumped what I then recognised as four pairs of boots and a couple of shotguns into the canoe. Jim winked again as he pushed us off and jumped in. Within minutes, we had paddled down river, out of sight of the peddlers’ camp.

  29

  What Imogen Learned

  It was a wonderful sight that rose up out of the mist in front of us: Ka-Ti standing out on a rock with the three horses to greet us. We banked the canoe in a little pool just before the river took a plunge over a small cataract. The whoosh and crash of the rapids below drowned out all other sounds — the very reason Jim had chosen that spot for our rendezvous.

  As soon as our feet touched the ground, Ka-Ti was there, draping blankets over Imogen’s and my shoulders. She motioned for us to follow her a little climb up the rocks from the waterfall where she’d set up camp on a flat shoal. Already she’d a built fire and over it, a little teepee structure made of sticks from which a kettle hung.

  After I’d pulled on a pair of dry breeches and a fresh tunic, I sat down crosslegged beside Imogen near the fire and happily took the mug of steaming tea Ka-Ti offered me. The warmth of the flames on my face and the tea going down my throat felt like magic, thawing me right down to my frozen bones.

  As Ka-Ti took a basket and wandered off into the trees, probably to gather nuts, I glanced at Imogen. Ka-Ti had given her a dry, clean cotton dress in exchange for her tattered, mud-splattered one, put ointment on Imogen’s arms where the ropes had rubbed them raw, and put her hair up in a tidy braid like Ka-Ti’s own hair. She looked like a new person, though her eyes were still a little puffy as she sat sipping her tea, staring into the fire in a far-off way. I didn’t know quite how to begin saying the things I’d been mulling over ever since she’d disappeared.

  “How’s your ankle?” I began casually. “I guess you lost the crutch Wattie made you.”

  She pulled her skirt up a few inches and wiggled her foot. “Hardly hurts anymore. I almost forgot about it while I was being dragged around behind that wagon full of weirdness.”

  I snickered. “I’m glad it’s better and … and I’m really glad you’re ok, Immy. I could never have forgiven myself if something had happened to you.”

  She turned to look at me, but with a very different look in her eyes than I’d seen before. “It wasn’t your fault, you know.” Tears were welling up in her eyes again. “I’m surprised you even came after me, after the way I ran off on you like that, even after you’d warned me. I totally asked for this.”

  I opened my mouth to contradict her, but she carried on. “It’s not an excuse for the way I acted, but I hope you know I only did it because I was so scared and … and angry.”

  “I don’t blame you for being scared,” I said. “This whole thing is … well … really scary. But why were you angry?”

  Imogen wiped her eyes with the corner of her blanket and stared down into her mug. “I guess it was because I was kind of jealous.”

  “Jealous?” I was gob-stopped. “Jealous of who?”

  “Of you,” she said as if it was obvious. “You seem to be getting along fine, like you belong here. Why does it have to be so much harder for me?”

  “It’s been hard for me too,” I insisted. “I’ve just gotten good at hiding it, I guess.”

  She was shaking her head. “The truth is, as much as I’ve been wanting you to find a way home, I’ve been starting to realise that I don’t belong there either. That’s what made me so angry. I don’t belong anywhere or in any time.” Two giant tears plopped into her tea.

  “What do you mean you don’t belong at home? Your parents—”

  “My parents are way too busy to care about me. I mean, they care that I nearly failed my first year of secondary school, but—”

  �
�Nearly failed?” I hadn’t meant to sound so surprised. “But you’ve always made top grades. That’s how you got into that really good school.”

  “Yea, well, I guess I didn’t work hard enough once I got in. I just felt really … really lonely at boarding school. And even in the holidays, my mum and dad would rather hire private tutors and send me to see a shrink, when all I want is just to spend some time together as a family… like your family.”

  For the first time, I was beginning to see beneath the shiny surface of Imogen’s perfect life. “I guess that’s why you weren’t very excited about coming to America for autumn break,” I muttered.

  She sniffed and swivelled her mug. “I knew the only reason they sent me was because… they thought you’d be a good influence.”

  “Me?” I felt like I’d just been smashed with a wrecking ball of guilt.

  “Oh, you know. Mum and Dad are always saying things like ‘Why can’t you be more like your cousin? She doesn’t get into trouble.’”

  “But that’s not true,” I protested. “I make mistakes all the time. Like the way I’ve been a selfish, terrible cousin to you ever since you got here.”

  She shook her head. “You haven’t been. And none of that matters now, anyway. I just want to see them again.”

  “You will,” I said, looking straight into her watery eyes. “We’ll find a way together, and when we get back, things are going to be better.”

  We hugged, sloshing tea on my dry pair of breeches. It didn’t even matter. I felt lighter than I had in days. With a gasp, I released her. “Im, you do belong here!”

  “You’re just being nice.”

  “No, I’m not.” I smacked myself on the forehead. “I can’t believe I forgot.”