by Lynn Landes
Kimani flinches. “But, why?” she asks hoarsely.
“To eliminate the obstacle. The weapons being used against them are too great. They don’t stand a chance.” Kimani sits down heavily on the log. “I’m sorry to be so blunt, but you need to understand what you’re up against. This is why your father wanted you to live with us.”
Harris watches her closely and continues. He drops to a knee in front of her. “We can’t go to the Fort. The Army is using this track heavily. Considering the soldiers coming after you are Army, I’m thinking we should avoid them. Can you ride?”
“Do I have a choice?” she asks and feels bad at the guilt on his face. “Harris, I can ride. We can use the noise of the train to cover our tracks, let’s go.”
Harris watches her mount up and wipe her eyes. He prays this cabin is the sanctuary they so desperately need.
Chapter 23
They ride for two days, following the directions Harris remembers. Rain begins and helps cover their tracks through the slush. Exhaustion beats at both riders. Once they reach the tree line across the valley Harris breaths a little sigh of relief.
Starlight creek trickles along, guiding the way to a small cabin with a moss-covered roof. The thickness of the foliage provides a perfect camouflage before opening onto a clearing. A small shed will act as a shelter for the horses.
Kimani sits quietly on her horse, with pain and exhaustion beating at her, staring at the cabin. It was built using whole logs, with chinking stuffed between to prevent the cold from entering the cabin. Oddly enough it sits on a foundation made of large river stones, and it even has a stone chimney. Tanned animal skin covers the one window, and a thatch broom stands propped on the porch. Nothing has ever looked so beautiful. Tears prick her eyes, and she sniffs when Harris reaches up and helps her off the horse.
“Let’s get you inside and start a fire.” He guides her slowly concerned with how quiet she’s been on the journey. Her lips are pinched tightly together, no doubt from pain and exhaustion.
“Sutton said the cabin is kept stocked with enough supplies for two weeks. You can rest and heal,” he says when he steps up on to the porch and stomps his feet, to remove some of the mud. “Thank God, the rain has stopped,” Harris says with a grin. He stops and looks over at her, and she is wavering on her feet, staring at him.
Fear has him stopping and reaching for her. “We made it, Harris,” she says, and the sobs start when he pulls her into his arms.
“We made it,” he whispers and presses a kiss the side of her head. He stands holding her, waiting for a sign that she is okay.
“You shouldn’t be so nice to me, it makes me cry,” she pushes at him.
“Get used to it,” Harris chuckles, “Let’s get inside.” Harris removes his duster and hangs it on a peg outside the front door. Kimani waits while he checks inside for animals or squatters before he calls her inside. She pulls off her overcoat and leaves it with his to dry glancing around the cabin and clearing. The creek is calling her, she’s desperate to feel clean but first, food and sleep.
“You staying out there or coming inside?” he teases.
Kimani smiles softly and hurries inside. “Oh,” she gasps when she enters. “It’s deceiving from outside!”
The one room cabin has a loft with a ladder leading to a sleeping area and a stacked stone fireplace for heating in one corner. Glancing up towards the loft, she notices the sloped roof allows for a high ceiling. A small two-person table built against a wall for dining and two chairs near the fireplace.
“I’m going to start a fire; the sun will be setting soon. You should rest.”
Kimani glances around the cabin surprised to see the walls have shelves with dishes and tools are hung below the shelves on the wall. She walks over and sits on the floor and leans against the wall. Caked in mud, rain, and dirt from the trail, Kimani can’t fight the exhaustion any longer.
Harris stomps inside with his arms full of wood and stops in his tracks. She’s huddled, asleep, in the corner like an animal. Guilt is intense. He works quickly and starts a fire to heat up the cabin, then shuts the door and kneels in front of her.
“Kimani,” he calls.
Her eyes open slightly, and Harris is struck by her natural beauty. “You don’t have to lay on the floor. Go upstairs and lay down.”
“Too dirty,” Kimani tries to go back to sleep, but he wants her to sleep in a bed.
“Come on, sleep is more important,” he insists.
“I am trying to sleep, Harris,” she frowns and tries to lay down.
Harris laughs softly and pulls her back up. “Stand,” he pleads.
Kimani groans and stands, snapping at him, “You go sleep, I’ll stay here.” Harris pulls her towards the ladder.
“It’s important for your healing that you sleep well,” he insists.
“First, I’m going to the creek to wash off the mud and dirt. Then I will sleep, probably for days.” He laughs and hands her a bar of soap of honeysuckle and rose from Melody.
“Oh!” Kimani smiles and sniffs it. Harris wraps a heavy blanket around her shoulders. “Drop your clothes on the porch, we will wash them later.”
“Yes, Harris,” she yawns, causing him to look at her in worry.
“Maybe I should go with you,” he says.
Shock has her spine straightening. Images of his hands on her naked body and his mouth. “No, I’m fine, I’m awake. I’ll be quick.” Kimani rushes from the cabin, stunned that her body would react to the thought of him naked and washing her.
Harris frowns and watches her go. He quickly carries in wood for the fire. It shouldn’t be hard to keep this tiny cabin warm. Exhaustion beats at him, and he makes quick work, locating supplies and inventorying what they have. He throws together a pot of broth soup with canned vegetables, from a labeled glass jar.
“I’ll have to send them some money as a thank you when this is over,” he thinks and removes the pot from the small rock fire place. He grabs a blanket of his own and marches from the cabin towards the creek.
Kimani soaps her hair a second time and ducks one last time beneath the icy water to rinse the soap. Harris pushes through the bushes at the creek side and sees her clothing and blanket, but no Kimani. Just as he’s about to yell for her, she rises from the water, pushing her hair back from her face and he watches in awe.
Her breasts bounce and the water sheets from her body, causing his mouth to fall open in pleasure. “Damn,” he gasps. Even bruised and battered the beauty of her body has him stiffening with desire. Beautiful, pink breasts call to him, and he is frozen in place watching her.
Kimani runs a hand over her face and stares at him through squinted eyes. Slowly she walks towards him, and he snatches the blanket from the rock and holds it out to her, forcing himself to look away. Even looking away, the image of her beautiful muscular body is burned in his mind.
“I’m sorry, I thought you’d be finished,” his deep voice is raspy with barely controlled need.
“It’s alright, you’re my doctor, and it’s not like you’ve never seen a female body before.” Kimani laughs softly, enjoying the look of desire he’s struggling to hide. She wrings the water out of her hair. The scent of honeysuckle and rose wafts around him, and he grumbles. Trembling with cold or desire, she’s not sure, but she’s seen the look of attraction in a man’s eyes before.
“For God’s sake Kimani, I’m only human!”
“Vanessa!” she snaps and snatches the blanket, just as he whirls on her.
“Why is that so important to you?”
“Because Kimani died with her family. I need to believe that,” she whispers and pulls the blanket tighter around her body.
“I’m struggling with that name. How about I come up with a nickname like Nessie?” Harris drops his cowboy hat on the rock. Next comes his gun belt, and he slowly starts unbuttoning his shirt. “Do you plan on watching me wash?”
Part of her is tempted to drop the blanket and rub her body all o
ver his, but something in his eyes stops her. “Of course, not,” she whispers as he drags open his shirt and she stares at the carved muscles. Licking her lips, she steps towards him, and her eyes follow his hand down to his jeans. When the button pops, she jumps and whirls around, racing back through the bushes to the cabin. His sexy laughter follows her to the cabin followed by his outburst when he dives into the cold creek.
Vanessa berates herself as she stomps into the cabin only to stop when she’s greeted by a hot pot of soup and a warm cabin. “Harris?” she murmurs, and her heart falls once more for him. He always seems to take care of her needs before his own. A smile curves her lips, and she hurries to dig through her bag to find something to wear. After pulling on a borrowed dress which is big, but warm, she finger combs her hair to remove the tangles and drapes the blanket across a wooden bench to dry.
Digging through his bag, she finds a pair of denims and a clean shirt for him. She drapes them over a chair to warm up by the fire before picking up a log with a yawn.
She is smiling at him when he throws open the door. He stops in place and stares at her.
“What are you doing?” he asks hoarsely. His hair is slicked back away from his head, and his beard is glistening with water drops.
“Adding a log to the stove,” she murmurs and turns away from him.
“No, you could reopen your stiches! The last thing you need is another wound,” he snaps and kicks the door closed behind him.
“You can’t be serious,” she starts to say, but he loosens his grip on the blanket, and her mouth falls open.
“Can we argue later, I’m freezing.”
“Of course,” she turns and points to the chair. “I laid out your clothes for you, they should be warm.” Vanessa covers her eyes with a hand as she listens to him dressing behind her.
“Thank you. There are two bowls for soup, it’s the best I can do,” he moans and pulls on the warm clothes.
“Freezing! Thanks for thinking of warming up my clothes.”
Pleased by his kindness, she hurries to ladle out the soup. They eat quickly, starved from their forced trek up from the valley. After, he cleans his guns and checks the condition of his rifle while she cleans up. Walking over to stand beside him she watches him work.
“Harris, are we safe here?”
He glances at her, noting the dark bags and the way she wraps her arms protectively around herself as if to ward off any danger. “I hope so, but you need to see something.” Harris stands up and puts his weapons down before carrying the two chairs out of the way. Pushing the table off the rug, he turns back to her.
“This cabin was built with safety in mind.” He lifts the rug, revealing a hatch built into the floor. Lifting the wooden door, they both look down into the darkness below. Moist, damp earth wafts up to them, and he smiles. “This was dug as a root cellar, but it doubles as an escape route. If at any time you need to go, don’t hesitate. It will come up behind the cabin.” He slams the door down, and she helps him return the room to its original standard.
“I’m not leaving you,” she steps over to the bench to check the blanket. “Still wet,” she murmurs and yawns again.
Harris glares at her and follows her to the ladder. “I didn’t save your life, so you could throw it away,” he demands.
“I know that.” Turning to look up at him she reaches out and touches his bearded face. “Thank you for looking after me, Harris,” she says softly before climbing the ladder.
Every night for the rest of your life, he thinks with a grim smile. “Go to sleep, I’m going to bank the fire for the night.” Harris walks away from her not trusting himself yet to speak. Now is the time to rest and heal.
Chapter 24
Harris jerks and the entire bed shakes, waking Vanessa with a start. The sound of a storm pounds on the roof, and she holds a hand over her heart to still its mad racing. When his body twitches and he shakes his head back and forth, she reaches out in the dark and rests her hand on his muscular chest. He’s dreaming.
“Harris,” she whispers and gently shakes him. He murmurs grumpily and rolls toward her throwing an arm over her waist. Now she’s trapped face, to face, with him beneath the weight of his arm as he starts to snore loudly. Harris is much larger than the men she’s used to being around. She drops her head to his chest, exhausted, hoping to go back to sleep.
She frowns when he snores, blowing her hair back from her face. Vanessa snuggles closer to him and inhales his scent, savoring the feel of being safe in his arms. She’s just falling to sleep when he rolls on his back, releasing her and throws his arm over his head.
Harris snores, shaking the very cabin to the core. Vanessa groans and tries to poke him, but he just continues snoring and ignores her. Grabbing the pillow, she shoves it over her head and hisses when he rattles the bed again. A feather pokes her in the forehead through the covering of the pillow.
Vanessa grins and grabs the quill of the feather, tugging it gently she pulls the downy treasure free. Harris continues to snore, and she rolls closer to his body and scoots up, so she’s even with his head. Trailing the feather over his face, she has to fight not to giggle out loud when he frowns and slaps a big hand over his face, only to go straight back to snoring.
Vanessa frowns at his face, even in sleep he’s handsome. Strong forehead and full lips, she trails the feather over his forehead and down over his lips, just as Harris’s hand comes down on her rear shocking a squeak from her. His hand grips and squeezes causing her to squirm in shock and drop her feather just as he inhales. Harris jerks, choking, coughing, and sits up knocking her back off the bed with a thud.
“What the hell!” He coughs until his eyes start watering. He coughs and chokes out a feather, and that’s when he sees her on the floor twitching.
“Nessa!” Harris shouts in alarm.
“You, snore like a weda,” she manages to choke out between her laughter. “Feather!” She points and can’t stop laughing. He sits back and glares at her.
“Have you lost your mind? You could’ve been hurt again,” he snaps.
His sharp admonishment sends her into more fits of laughter, even as she points at him. “But your face was so funny!” Harris leaps from the bed and stalks over to her, and her eyes grow wide with shock. He’s completely naked!
“Harris!” she yelps and covers her eyes.
This time he laughs, and before she knows what he’s doing, he picks her up and lays her back on the bed. “Weda! I’ll show you a bear,” he threatens even as he yawns and crawls back in between the covers. “Were you trying to kill me?”
“No! I… you were snoring!” She rolls away from him to tuck under the covers and fights the chill in the room. “Where are your clothes, Harris?”
“Wet, needed to dry,” Harris yawns and rolls over, pulling her against the heat of his chest and forms his body to hers. “Sorry, so tired,” he is asleep within three breaths, and this time she can’t sleep for an altogether different reason.
Chapter 25
“What kind of man would betray his own people for money?” One soldier whispers to the other as they approach the saloon.
“A savage one. Don’t matter what kind of clothes you put on ‘em a savage is a savage. Never forget that” he checks his pistol to make sure it’s loaded. “I’ll do the talking, you hand him the missive, and we leave. Got it.”
“Did he really kill twenty-three Indians alone?”
They stomp their boots outside on the wood planks knocking off chunks of dirt and mud before they step inside. “Yep. They fought back, and he loves a dirty fight. General Barclay is said to pay him extra for Indian scalps.”
“Gotta be a special place in Hell for his kind,” the kid murmurs as they push through the wooden doors. He pulls out the sealed envelope and waits quietly as his partner asks around.
“Blood Eagle?” he hears the bartender say. “Yep, upstairs. You’ll know him when you see him.” He says with a grin as wipes down the bar and grabs a bo
ttle of whiskey for a customer.
A few minutes later as they stand in front of him, he understands what the bartender meant. He sits in the corner of a room with two saloon girls and laughs, drinking and smoking. Dressed as a cowboy, only his hair gives him away. “Mr. Blood…”
“Richard Smith,” the man snaps interrupting his prepared speech. He pushes back his tan cowboy hat and stares up at the two young soldiers. Both ladies jump up and hurry away. His eyes miss nothing, not the tremor of the envelope, not the flare of nostrils when he interrupts him.
“Sir, General Barclay sent us to find, a scout called, Blood Eagle.”
Two chairs skid backward, and he snaps, “Sit down,” and sips on his beer. After they sit, he asks, “Can I get you boys a beer?”
“No, Sir, we’re on duty,” he nods to the younger soldier, who immediately offers the envelope.
“I see,” he glances up at them and slides the envelope towards him.
Blood Eagle trails a finger over the U. S. Army wax seal, “I heard that he had some trouble,” dark eyes flick up to the quiet one.
“Sir, we were told to stress to you the importance of speed. You will find the contract inside.”
He sighs and pushes his drink away before snapping the seal on the envelope. He reads quietly, and his face shows no response. “Enlistment papers?” he mumbles and reaches for his beer.
“Our job is done, should we convey a response to General Barclay?”
“Tell him the job will be done as requested,” he sneers and folds the papers up before stuffing them in the envelope along with a stack of cash.
“Yes, Sir,” they turn to leave, and before they walk away, the youngest turns back.
“Enlistment papers aren’t a request, Richard.”
Shock flickers over his friend’s face, and they both jump when he stands up and laughs. “True. The Army never requests help, they give orders, and we jump.” His dark eyes narrow as he moves closer to the soldier who subtly reaches for his own gun. “Assassination is a favorite game they like to play. Lucky for them I like money. It buys nice things like guns, knives, women, and...” He steps soundlessly to the stairs and calls back, “unfortunately, I love the hunt.” He continues quietly down the wooden steps, and that’s when they notice the moccasin boots.
