by Devon McKay
“And it means the great one,” he spat childishly, spurring a verbal war.
“Denali is also another name for Mount McKinley. Isn’t your sister called McKinley? It’s quite an ingenious play on words, naming you both after the same mountain,” she counteracted factually.
He studied her, silenced by the change in her demeanor. The angry flare in her jewel-toned gaze was starting to wane, and he couldn’t help but note a playful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
The k’isen certainly had an odd way about her. How was it she so quickly turned from an angry woman to a silly girl? He suffered a stab of irritation. Did she not take him seriously?
“We weren’t named after the mountain, you foolish woman. We were named for what the mountain represents…strength and endurance. Like Tshat’ana.” He pointed to the Kenai Mountain range. The mountain’s peak stood tall and regal. “But why do I waste my breath?”
Her gaze followed in the direction of his finger. “Oh, well, that is rather interesting. And what does k’isen mean? Does it mean woman?” she asked with unrestrained interest.
Denali nodded his head in silence, hoping to cease her questioning. It didn’t.
“Are we going to your village? I’d like to meet your sister. I’d like to thank the k’isen for the loan of these boots.”
She pried one leg out of the stirrups. A change in her expression declared the winning of an internal battle as she displayed the lent hiking boots. Was she proud of herself for being able to use a word from his language?
“They were like a present from heaven.”
A full-fledged smile graced her features and stunned Denali. It was like staring into the sun, and no matter how she angered him with her ways, he had to admit, the woman definitely had what his friend, Wolf, would call spunk.
“…except when you were chasing me through the woods,” she teased. Pausing, her finely shaped eyebrow arched then furrowed. “But, all the same, they sure beat high heels. Thanks for untying my hands by the way. I’m still learning how to ride a horse. Being so high off the ground scares me.”
He glanced at the clenched grip she had on the saddle horn, and a splinter of guilt started to pool within his gut. He stared at her for a full minute before urging the horses into a slow trot, trying hard to continue his dislike of her.
“Since we are on the subject of heights…did you know Mt. McKinley is over 20,000 feet above sea level? It’s a fascinating fact, don’t you think?” She shared the information as if she had no troubles in the world.
Shaking his head, he urged the horses to a faster paced cantor. The k’isen definitely had strange ways. He grunted in response, yet somehow, she took it as encouragement for her chatter.
“I know a little about your tribe, too. You are an Athabascan, right?”
“Kenaitze,” he growled, refusing to spare another glance at the exasperating woman.
“Hmm…Kenaitze,” she repeated, letting the word roll off her tongue. “It has a nice ring to it.”
“It means Raven’s People,” he informed sourly, before stabbing her with an untrusting stare. “My tribe respects the land. It is our way of life. A successful harvest depends not only on fishing and hunting, but the will of the fish or animal to be hunted. The animal will return again if respect is shown.”
“It’s a good philosophy. Now, if only more people thought the same way there’d be a hell of a lot less alligator shoes,” she stated earnestly, bobbing her head in agreement. “I’m from Florida. It’s awful what has been done to the land there. Buildings are everywhere. And it’s so busy with cars and people you can’t even think straight. It’s not like this.” A loud sigh escaped her. “I love how quiet it is here.”
“It’s not, k’isen. It hasn’t been quiet since we began our journey.” Denali released a sarcastic snort. He placed a finger on his lips. “Shh…you have to listen. There are sounds all around you.” The forest came alive. “Look.” He pointed, directing her line of sight to an eagle nestled on a tree branch. “Da lika. You can only see such a beautiful animal if you do not disturb him. You can’t always speak.”
The eagle peered down at them, its keen, golden eyes heedfully taking in their presence. Denali peeled his gaze away to see her reaction. She was completely captivated.
The appreciation in her stare caught him off guard, and he shook his head, confused by the growing admiration he was starting to feel for the woman. Aggravated, he spurred Rebel forward.
Speaking softly, she said, “Did you know an eagle has a wing span of up to ninety inches? That’s like seven feet…pretty incredible, huh? And the female is larger than the male. I’m not quite sure why though.”
The facts began again, rolling off her tongue with a vengeance now, her tone low so as not to disturb the large bird. Yet, even in whispers, her voice was loud and toxic. He scowled, shaking his head again. Her mindless talk grated on his nerves, half-tempting him to turn around and return the woman to Blake. The only thing stopping him was the closeness of his home.
For a moment, he was glad the k’isen had been so involved with her speech, she’d missed the muted sounds of his people leading them into the village. Even the trail they traveled was wider, the dirt packed and worn from frequent traffic.
“When Blake and I were fishing,” she continued excitedly, “we saw an eagle…what did you call it? A Da lika? Well anyway, it came out of nowhere and scooped up a fish right out of the river. It was amazing.”
An expression of pure joy lit her face. Denali quickly glanced away as his intestines clenched and twisted in his stomach. He had been condemning her for disrespecting the nature, and here she spoke of a sight he had seen many times, but had taken for granted. The reckoning annoyed him.
“Something you won’t see when your people come, bringing with them their poison,” he quipped, his words as rancid as the spoiling of his gut.
Her face, so brilliantly expressive, immediately turned grave.
His declaration had hit its mark. Grimly, he smiled. Her information had been informative and accurate, but he had quickly tired of the endless banter and wished for silence as he wrestled with his guilt. It didn’t help he had started to respect his friend’s woman.
Denali released a heavy sigh, uncomfortable with the continuously growing admiration he felt toward her.
“If my people come with their poison, it won’t be because of me.” She raked him over with a haughty glare and tilted her chin forward defiantly.
Confused, he didn’t answer.
“Isn’t that what you meant? Why I’m here? Why you kidnapped me? You wanted to teach me a lesson so I wouldn’t make a brochure about your state, right? You wanted to scare me?” she accused, her full lips forming a pretty pout. “Well, just for the record, you didn’t. You’ve wasted both your time and effort. And I’m not shaking in my—your sister’s—boots. So, this little adventure…bring it on. The more real Alaskan experience I get…the better.” Her determined smile spoke volumes, daring him to disagree. “Besides, I decided days ago I wasn’t going to go through with the brochure. Well, not the way my boss intends me to. My advertisement will be completely based on fact. A lot of info. None of the fluff which helps sell things. Blake was right. The state sells itself on pretty.” Sam paused thoughtfully.
Denali’s thoughts centered on the notebook he found in the bag he’d ransacked when she’d blacked out. Certainly explained the sketches and the Live Alaska logos highlighting the pencil drawing of birch trees.
“In fact, my ad will be so fact based it will almost seem as if it was straight out of a textbook, not a brochure. No candy-coated lies. And just so we are clear…my decision has nothing to do with you. I may even write a book about Alaska. About my adventures. So, you can just go to hell.”
He admired the woman’s spirit. No one had ever put him in his place so thoroughly. Most people feared him. Rarely did anyone attempt to reprimand him in such a way. Had she been born a Kenaitze, she would be respected. Th
e tribe honored such courage.
Chapter 26
A hush came over the village as soon as they emerged from the forest. In fact, the busy habitat came to a complete standstill. Under the curious exam of Denali’s tribe members, Sam never felt more self-conscious. There was little doubt, she was not welcome.
Scanning the sea of shocked faces, she jumped when a hand tugged at her hip. Glancing down, she accepted Denali’s aid off the horse, even though the last thing she wanted to do was join this unaccepting crowd.
Once she planted her feet on the ground, she balanced by bracing her weight on her good leg and placing an arm on his. She continued to take in her surroundings as Denali led her past a series of wooden structures lining the outskirts of the village. Some of the cabins were made out of log. Others were more primitive, appearing to be just spruce poles covered with bark, various animal hides and tree boughs.
An elaborately carved totem pole stood in front of the village, honoring the Kenaitze heritage. At the top, a black raven with a straight beak represented the clan. Several other carvings rested below the bird. A human face, which, from what she researched, guarded the village, was followed by a red fox, black bear, and a brown beaver showcasing the sub clans. If only she had her camera, or at the very least her note pad.
A crowd had started to form, and a slim, pretty woman slipped through the mass, racing toward them. A close resemblance to Denali, she shared the same features, including a thick mane of raven hair and caramel skin. This had to be his sister, McKinley.
“Denali, what have you done?”
The woman paused, sparing an uncertain glance in her direction before resuming a line of questioning in their native tongue. Even though Sam didn’t know the language, the verbal assault was quite obvious. With McKinley’s hands on her hips and dark eyes flashing in outraged disbelief, a blind man could see her brother was receiving quite a tongue lashing.
“I didn’t…I…ah,” Denali stuttered. As his tribe closed in, he lowered his head in shame.
Sam stumbled forward, overcome by a strange urge to defend the man. Despite the circumstances, and his gruff attitude, she’d felt a bond had developed between them, and the last thing she wanted was for him to pay dearly for their budding friendship.
“He didn’t do anything other than invite me here to see how the Kenaitze live.” Sam flashed her best smile, hoping to convince his sister and the rest of their tribe.
Her statement earned McKinley’s complete attention. The young woman studied her with a wise, ebony gaze that missed little.
The dark-haired beauty displayed a sly smile. “I’ve heard better stories, but I like how you defend my idiot brother anyway.”
“Come with me.” McKinley grabbed Sam’s hand and started to lead her away while openly berating her brother. “Damn fool…he’s always doing stupid things. Never thinks first. He rarely uses this.” She tapped her index finger on her head. “No doubt he thought facing the tribe would terrify you. And I’m sure it did,” McKinley admitted, halting abruptly when Sam winced.
The native’s thorough stare ran up and down until lingering on the ankle she favored. Adjusting her weight, Sam sucked in a lungful of air to catch her breath.
“Oh my, it’s not just your head which is hurt. Denali didn’t…no, he wouldn’t. Did my brother do this to you?”
Sam shook her head and leaned heavily on the woman’s arm. Before she could answer, the mob had completely encircled them. An old man stepped forward, examining her closely with a keen gaze. Deep wrinkles lined his face like a hundred year old map. A large cloak adorned with thousands of colorful beads sheathed his shoulders, hiding a thin, perhaps frail build. But his dark eyes, wise with knowledge, drew her in. With little more than a nod, the elder appeared to accept her.
****
As soon as Blake entered the village, he searched for Sam. She wasn’t hard to find with her blonde almost platinum hair.
No one noticed his entrance, and he froze for a moment, making sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him.
Sam was safe.
As soon as he realized she was okay, his emotions changed in an instant.
The past two days had been a bumpy ride. He’d managed to go from one end of the spectrum to the other. Now, the rage burning through his veins was too much to bear, and he centered his focus on Denali.
Unable to control himself, Blake barreled into the unsuspecting man and knocked him off of his feet.
For a few seconds, they rolled on the ground, and he used his weight as an advantage. With a quick reflex, however, Denali stunned him with a fist to the right eye.
Seeing stars, he was still able to land a good jab to the defiant jaw. The split second gave Blake an edge as he twisted and turned so Denali was beneath him again. He viciously pinned his friend into a position in which the man had no alternative but to surrender.
“Why did you do it?” he demanded with a loud grunt. Enraged, he drew back his fist, intent on plummeting it into Denali’s nose.
“Blake!”
The pure terror in Sam’s scream made him freeze. His head snapped back, and he spared her a concerned glance over his shoulder, ensuring her safety before returning an angry glare toward his friend again.
Denali refused to answer him. Too late, he registered the spark of fire flash in the coal black eyes, detailing a small hint of what was to come.
A hard head butt.
Intense pain seared through his head as a bright burst of white blurred his vision. “Damn it, Denali.” He let go of his hold and rolled off, skull cradled in his hands.
After a few minutes, the man stood and dusted off his backside. He extended his hand, but Blake ignored the gesture and got to his feet without his friend’s aid.
“What were you thinking? Kidnapping Sam? Are you out of your mind?” he ranted. No longer seeing stars, he pierced the man with a savage glare.
“Enough,” Sam shouted as she hobbled between the two of them. “No more fighting. He didn’t kidnap me,” she stated firmly, facing Blake with her hands on her hips.
He didn’t believe her, but with Sam standing close enough to touch, he quickly forgot his anger and wrapped her in his arms.
“He didn’t,” she repeated in a low, almost convincing tone against his chest. “Denali just scared me. I thought he was a bear. I ran.”
“You ran?” Blake repeated, feeling the flush of anger start to return. “Sam, I told you to never run from a bear,” he scolded, relinquishing his hold an inch to look down at her. He grazed her jawline with the pad of his thumb and then tilted her chin up. Lightly, he brushed his lips against hers. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed,” he murmured as the kiss deepened.
Realizing they had an audience, Sam placed her palm against his chest and stumbled back a step. “I know.” She held her hand up as if the effort would brush away his reprimand. “Anyway, I fell and hit my head. Not Denali’s fault.” She skimmed her fingers over the cotton gauze.
Blake noted her reaction and quirked a brow quirk. Of all the stupid things she could’ve done. Damn, the woman was exasperating. Who ran from a wild animal? Such a response only made you prey.
Though he knew he couldn’t stay upset with her for long, he held his ground. “I was so worried, Sam. I slept in the woods. I just couldn’t leave you out there all alone. Had I known Denali would’ve done something like this…I would’ve…” He clenched his jaw, casting a scornful stare in the man’s direction.
“Denali didn’t do anything. The only thing he’s guilty of is intentionally trying to scare me,” Sam retorted swiftly.
A firm grip tugging his chin guided his gaze back to her. The sincerity in the mossy depths of her eyes told him she was speaking the truth. Lightly, he scored his fingers over her cheekbone and traced the pad of his thumb along her lips. With a gentle touch, he lifted the bandage and checked her wound. Other than the red, irritated cut staring back at him, it appeared as if she’d been well doctored.
Which m
eant he had an apology to make. Relieved, he pulled her against his chest and released a heavy breath. Nothing mattered as long as Sam was safe.
Chapter 27
“Enough of this mushy stuff,” McKinley said, pulling Sam out of Blake’s hold. “Let’s get you settled, and then you guys can talk.”
The last thing Sam wanted was to be led away from Blake, but apparently, she had little choice. The young native woman was quite persistent and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Sam cast a fleeting glance in his direction as the woman guided her to a small log cabin.
“Brothers. Those two always fight.” McKinley rolled her eyes and giggled, ushering Sam into the rustic building. “This is Blake’s cabin. After your little display out there, I’m sure you two won’t mind shacking up.”
McKinley’s words hit her hard. Was that all this was? Shacking up? Maybe to him. Then again, hadn’t he just confessed to sleeping in the wild last night because he’d been worried about her? She spun the thought around in her head for a minute and scanned the room.
The space was quite cozy, boasting a cushy bed covered by several lush animal skins. She pondered if they could spend the rest of their lives in such a small area without killing each other. If only such a concept was possible.
“It’s perfect,” Sam muttered.
The cabin seemed far more comfortable than sleeping on the ground. She sighed loudly; her opinion of roughing it had completely changed. Sam pictured her luxury apartment in Miami. Pricy art decorating the walls. Paintings she didn’t even like, yet had paid an ungodly amount for. Not to mention the over the top coffee table in her living room she had to have regardless of the outrageous price tag.
None of it would fit in this cabin. Nor did she care. Those things mattered very little. Funny how frivolous the fancy, meaningless items she had in her apartment now seemed.
A simple, comfortable place to sleep, and she was happy.
“If only I could take a shower, I’d be all set.”
“I can take you to the bathing stream,” McKinley offered, pausing once she saw her hesitation. “Don’t worry, it’s private. We have a shower also. The sun warms the water stored in barrels, and it is quite nice, but personally, I prefer the bathing stream. I think you will, too.”
