Maybe he should just start over. Tell her what he wanted to make for her and get her input on sizes. Would she prefer that over the surprise of an ill-fitting gift?
If only he could read women better.
The last thing he wanted was to anger Susanna like he had Ayadna. He was relieved that he’d lost her, now that he looked back, although a knot still formed in his belly when he thought of what his family had suffered.
But Susanna…she truly mattered. He couldn’t lose her.
“Beaver, I was telling Caleb—” Susanna’s voice clipped short as he spun to face her.
He must look guilty. In the shadowy darkness of this cloudy night, he couldn’t see her expression well. But she stood motionless. Soundless.
He raised his chin, forcing a composure he didn’t feel. “You were telling Caleb…?” He’d merely twisted his body to look at her, while he still knelt in front of his pack. He couldn’t stand or turn completely without revealing the buckskins draped over his arm.
Her intake of breath was audible across the three strides between them. “I was telling him I saw a mark on a pine tree farther up the river when I went for a walk. I think it’s the J that Joel and French were leaving.”
Hope surged through him. He’d been worried he’d lost them completely.
“The cliffs are low enough to allow horses to cross near there, so maybe that’s why we haven’t seen their tracks for a while. Maybe they came across the river and now they’re moving west again.”
He nodded. “I’ll look at first light.” He might miss something important if he examined the mark and the area around it in the dark.
Her gaze dropped to his pack. Now was the time. He might as well finish what he’d started.
Pushing to his feet, he turned to her, exposing what he held. “I made you better clothing. For the winter.”
He extended the bundle to her. “If they don’t fit, let me know, and I can alter them. Or make new.” His face burned hot like he was standing over a campfire.
“You did?” Was that happiness in her voice? Or simply curiosity? She stepped forward to take the clothing, and her fingers brushed across the top of his. “When did you have time for this?”
The urge to twist his hand and catch hold of her gripped him, but he refrained. Instead he focused on her face. “In the evenings, mostly after you already slept.”
As her fingers sank into the buckskin, her eyes widened. “It’s so soft.”
She lifted the top piece, a long tunic like his sisters wore that would keep her warm and still allow her freedom of movement. He’d fringed the bottom so water and snow would flick off but hadn’t added any other decoration. Maybe he’d offer to if she seemed open to the idea.
A smile lit her face as she held the tunic up to her shoulders. “Beaver, it’s beautiful.”
She was beautiful. Even with the thick shadows, he could imagine what she would look like in the garment, every graceful curve of her. With her sun-tanned skin, she would almost pass for an Indian maiden. But the brown of her hair gave her a uniqueness he loved much more than if she were just another woman from his village.
She raised her gaze to his, her eyes shimmering. “Thank you.” Her voice caught on the words. “They’re just want I needed. What I wanted.”
His throat closed so he could barely speak. She wanted clothes like the Indian women wore? He could imagine her among his people, walking to the river with his sisters, cooking alongside his mother. They would love her, with her fierce determination and strength, and the care she offered so freely to those who gained her trust.
The thought sent a surge of warmth through him.
So much that he almost missed when she took a step closer to him. Then her nearness seemed to fill the air around him, making his chest struggle to breathe. Everything in him wanted to reach out, pull her closer, and press his mouth to hers. To inhale her sweet kiss, feel the connection with her he’d been craving—dreaming of—since that last time.
She tilted her head, and the shadows shifted away from her eyes. Was that longing?
Her look cleared away the last of his self-control. He closed the distance between them in a single step, gripping her arms and pulling her close. She stepped into his embrace, and he wrapped her in his arms. He had to stop himself from holding too tight. In truth, he may not ever be able to release her, now that his arms felt the warm softness of her.
He lowered his face, hovering just before touching his forehead to hers. Her warm breath caressed him, and just her nearness made his chest quiver. This woman had become his heart, the best part of him. He would do anything for her.
With their foreheads touching, he brushed her nose with his, nuzzling her, cherishing her. She brought her hands up to cradle his face, and her touch lit a fire inside him.
He worked hard to bank the inferno, for Susanna was too special to risk burning. He tipped his head and gently lowered his mouth to hers. Brushing her lips. Treasuring the taste and feel of her.
After this kiss, he may never be the same.
“Miss Susanna. Wake up. There’s a fire.”
Rough hands shook Susanna, pulling her from the clutches of sleep. Why was Caleb worried about their campfire?
She forced her eyes open. Darkness hung thick around them, and the smoke from their fire must be wafting in her direction, for the stench was strong enough to gag.
Caleb was throwing packs over his shoulders, loading his massive back with most of their things. What in the world?
Her groggy mind struggled to make sense, to focus on the words he was muttering.
Then he spun to her. “The grass is on fire. We have to get out of here.”
Like a smack to her cheek, the words jolted her into full awareness. She bolted upright, spun to look outside their camp.
A little distance upriver—maybe thirty strides—fire lit the sky. Thick smoke billowed from the flame as it licked trees and grass in its path.
“I can’t find Beaver, but we have to get out of here.” Caleb scooped up another bundle, looping the strap around his neck, then tucked his rifle under his right arm. “Grab what you can and run to the horses.”
She was already on her feet, fighting one of the blankets tangled in her legs. Her body wasn’t cooperating with what her mind demanded.
Finally she freed herself, then she scooped up her bedding. She spun and grabbed the pot from beside the fire, then dumped its water over the coals. No sense adding to the coming flames.
Then, the full meaning of Caleb’s words smacked her.
She spun to him. “Where’s Beaver?” Where could he be in the middle of the night?
“I don’t know. When I woke, he was gone and the fire was twice as far away. It’s moving fast. Maybe he’s getting the horses free. Start running, and we’ll meet him there.”
She glanced at the flames again. They had closed at least a third of the distance between them. “Maybe he went to try to slow the fire.” Fear clutched her chest with the thought. God, don’t let him be in that inferno.
That was also the direction of the marking she’d told him about last evening. Had he gone to investigate while they slept, then been caught by the fire?
The blaze cut a wide swath between the base of the mountain and the cliff down to the river. If Beaver was anywhere near it, he’d not survive unless he jumped off the ledge into the water.
God, protect him.
“Susanna!” Caleb’s bark jerked her from her fears, and she spun toward him.
She started toward the horses, which were, thankfully, in the opposite direction from the fire. Running in the new buckskins Beaver made her was easier than her other clothes, even the men’s trousers. Yet the bundles in her arms made her gait awkward, especially with the heavy pot in one hand. Caleb had the worst of it though, loaded with almost all of their supplies, and he kept a steady trot beside her. Almost like a herding dog, nudging her along. They’d left Beaver Tail’s furs behind. How much would he grieve their los
s?
By the time they reached the horses, the fire was already nipping at the trees near their camp.
The animals were frantic, jerking and pulling at the ropes that tethered them, wide eyes flashing. All four horses were there, including Beaver Tail’s gelding. Wherever he’d gone, he left on foot.
Surely he hadn’t gone to the fire. He would have warned them before he left, and there was no way he could stop a blaze that massive, so surely he wouldn’t have tried. He couldn’t even get near it without melting from the intense heat.
Her clothing was already pasted to her body with sweat, and thick beads ran down her face as she worked to slice through the tether straps.
“Throw the saddles on the horses and cinch them just enough to keep the packs from falling off. We don’t have time for more.” Caleb had to yell over the crackling roar of the fire.
He was right, saddling the horses securely enough that they could ride would take too long. For now, they could make better time on foot if the horses carried the awkward packs. Her stomach churned as she worked the leathers, scrambling to move with the fear-crazed horses. Should they go on without knowing where Beaver was? They didn’t have a choice.
She turned to squint at the mountain. The fire lit the night, but there were enough shadows from smoke that she couldn’t tell if there was a way Beaver could have climbed the rocky cliff to escape the blaze. Maybe.
Lord, protect him. Help, God, please!
She couldn’t lose Beaver, too. Not now. Not ever.
But she couldn’t slow Caleb and the horses down either. She was just finishing with her second horse when Caleb dragged his two closer to her. “You ready?”
She pulled the cinch strap in place, then dropped the stirrup and grabbed a better hold on the ropes of her gelding and Beaver’s. “Let’s go.”
She wasn’t ready, but she wouldn’t hold them back any longer. Beaver was in God’s hands, and she’d have to trust Him. Take care of him, Lord. Please.
They ran.
Dragging the horses behind them, they ran until Susanna was almost doubled over from the stitch in her side. Her chest felt like a horse had stomped on it, and every breath she struggled for reeked of smoke.
“Let’s go down in the water here.” Caleb slowed to a walk and motioned toward the river. A steep animal trail sloped diagonally down the cliff. Goats could descend it with no problem. Deer, most likely. But horses?
She looked back at the fire. A distance behind them now, but it raged forward with incredible speed, engulfing everything in its path. With a dry summer and almost no rain for weeks now, the landscape was primed to spread the fire with fury.
“We need to get across the river. I’ll go down first.” Caleb started toward the track. “Hold my pack horse until I get Josie down.”
She took the animal’s rope and positioned herself to encourage Caleb’s mare to follow him down the slope. The horse was just as amiable as her master under normal conditions, but this fire had her panicked just like the others. Still, it took the mare less than a minute to skitter down the steep path.
Caleb came back up for his pack gelding, and the horse didn’t take much urging to follow. He was probably accustomed to trailing Josie wherever she went.
“Now hand me your gelding.” Caleb was breathing hard as he climbed back up the trail.
Susanna had bonded with this gentle horse and wanted to take him down herself. But they didn’t have time for a discussion. She handed Caleb the rope and gave the gelding a pat on the shoulder. “Be good for him.”
The spotted horse took a bit longer to work up the courage to descend than the other two had, and Susanna couldn’t help eyeing the fire while they encouraged him. How could the blaze move so quickly?
If they didn’t get into the water in the next couple minutes, the fire might be close enough to scorch them, as much heat as the flames were putting out.
She drew back and gave the horse her hardest whack. “Get down, boy.”
The horse must have felt her urgency, for he leaped down the incline, reaching the ground below in two rabbit-like hops.
“Let me have him.” Caleb’s breathing was almost louder than his words as he climbed back up and reached for Beaver’s gelding.
This horse was the most spirited of them all, and without Beaver there to calm him, he might give them trouble.
“Hey, boy. Let’s get to safety.”
While Caleb took the rope’s end down the path, she led the horse to the edge.
He nickered and bobbed his head, his feet dancing nervously.
“Move on.” She tugged his halter forward and gave him a firm pat just behind his front leg.
The horse started down the hill, picking his way nimbly over the rocky incline.
Thank you, Lord.
She followed, and when she reached the bottom, Caleb was already tightening the girth on his mare. “We should ride now since we’re going into the water.”
He was right, but they didn’t have time to mount up.
Heat pierced her layers, searing her skin as she struggled with her cinch strap. Her fingers wouldn’t do as she commanded, especially with the horse fidgeting.
Finally she had it tight enough. She dropped the stirrup in place, fit her foot in it, and swung up. “Come on.”
Caleb was just landing in the saddle as she kicked her mare forward into the water.
Chapter 26
Susanna stared at the scorched remains in the early dawn light. Beaver Tail couldn’t be gone. It wasn’t possible.
God wouldn’t strip her of the last thing she loved. First her mother. Then their home. Then Pa. Now He’d taken Beaver Tail.
Why not her too? Why did He leave her behind in this desolate wilderness? This blackened land of charred hopes and dreams.
Her body was numb, too numb even to climb down from her horse. Part of her wanted to keep riding, to hold out hope that they’d find Beaver Tail. They’d tracked upriver to the fording place where she had told him about the mark on the tree. Caleb said the fire-blackened land across the river would still be too hot for the horses’ hooves, so they hadn’t crossed.
In truth, if Beaver Tail was in that barren mass of coals, only his seared body remained. And she couldn’t stand the thought. Even now, her mind conjured images that made her stomach churn.
She wrapped her hands around herself, pushing down the bile, letting her body remember the feel of Beaver’s strong arms around her. Her eyes burned, but the tears didn’t surface. Even her tears were too numb to work properly.
“Let’s stop here a while. Eat and let the horses rest.” Caleb’s deep voice rumbled gently in the barren silence of the landscape. He must be exhausted too. And grieving. He’d known Beaver Tail much longer than she had.
Yet, the ache pierced her chest like a knife blade slicing her heart. How could God take him away?
She let Caleb help her down from the horse. Let him coax her to lie on the fur he stretched over the ground. Part of her felt as though she were watching the scene from outside herself. She curled on her side, folded her hands under her head. Her grainy eyes resisted closing, but she forced them. If only sleep would push away the awfulness. Push away the empty desolation.
She made herself lie still, motionless, waiting for sleep to finally come and swallow her in its dark clutches.
Susanna jolted awake, her eyes popping wide as her heart throbbed. The terror of the fire reaching burning hands to clutch at her, flashed through her mind. Only a dream, yet she could still feel her desperation to reach Beaver Tail. The fire held her back, absorbing her in its searing midst, even as Beaver was pulled away by some unseen hand.
She pressed a palm to her chest to still her racing heart.
Beaver. Where could he be? Surely he hadn’t actually died. It didn’t seem possible. He was so strong and virile, full of more ability to outsmart a raging fire than anyone else she knew.
A glance around showed the afternoon was melding into evening. On
his bed pallet nearby, Caleb snored in a steady rhythm. He must be exhausted from the night. She’d not made things any easier on him either, as comatose as she’d been before she finally fell into the awful dream.
Her pulse picked up speed again as the image of the fire wrapping itself around her flooded her mind. In the dream, she’d been the one engulfed, not Beaver Tail. Maybe that meant he was still alive.
She pushed the blanket aside and rose to her feet. Her legs didn’t want to hold her, so she stood still for a moment to let them adjust to her weight. She should take this opportunity to study their surroundings.
This side of the river, which hadn’t burned, formed a wider valley than on the opposite bank, but the land was mostly barren of trees. Tall aspens and cottonwoods grew in the distance upriver.
Across the water, the scene stretched much bleaker. The fire had ravaged the strip of land between the mountain cliffs and the river, burning grass and brush and tree alike. The blackened forms left behind stood like grotesque skeletons, reminders of last night’s horror.
She swallowed to wet her parched throat. She had to go over there and look for Beaver. If he’d somehow survived, maybe tucked in the crevice of a rock, he might be badly injured. Finding him might possibly save his life.
And the hope of that possibility gave her something to cling to.
Turning, she strode toward the horses. Caleb had tied them out to graze, a task she should have helped with. God had placed such a good heart in that man. Some woman would get a gem if he ever found someone good enough for him.
That wouldn’t be her, not when she’d already given her heart to Beaver Tail. She’d never met a man she could see herself marrying before him. There was no way she could ever feel this intensity of love for anyone else. And if she’d lost him now…
Oh, God.
The stab of pain nearly doubled her over. She wrapped her arms around her belly and fought down the sob. She couldn’t have lost him. Not Beaver. God, he’s all I had left.
You have Me. The thought sprung so clearly into her mind. Not like words, but a fully formed thought that overshadowed everything else.
Freedom in the Mountain Wind Page 19
