Cherokee never moved and she realized he must be exhausted from having been up all night looking after her. Well, who asked him to? He had ulterior motives, he’d admitted it himself. Probably tomorrow at the latest, he’d be forcing himself on her, making her feel obligated for what he’d done for her. Silver didn’t want to feel obligated to the ’breed. Except for Al, men always wanted her to repay them with her body.
As she opened the door, Cherokee sighed and turned over. Silver paused in the doorway, scarcely daring to breath, thinking that at any moment, he’d sit up and realize what she was up to. She stood there waiting. After a moment, his steady breathing continued and she cast one last, longing look at the weapons beside him and slipped out the door, closing it behind her.
Not that she was much good with a gun, but it would be reassuring to have one with her. She took a deep breath of the cold air and started down the trail.
The moon came out from behind the clouds, all big and golden, throwing shadows on the dazzling snow as she crunched along the frozen surface. Any other time, Silver would have been struck by the breathtaking beauty of the scene around her, the light catching the glitter of the drifts, the blue spruce trees with their frosting of snow. Now she was too busy concentrating on putting as much distance between her and that big brute asleep back at the cabin.
Her breath hung like smoke on the chill air when she breathed and her face was already cold. She couldn’t remember how far it was in to town, but if she set a steady pace and didn’t overexert herself, surely she would make it by morning. Better yet, when she got closer to Buckskin Joe, some passerby or some rancher might spot her and offer a horse or even a sleigh.
Somewhere she heard the lonely howl of a wolf echo and reecho through the hills. Silver looked up, saw it silhouetted against the moon, and hesitated. Wolves would be hungry and bold at this time of the year. Suppose the pack scented her?
She half turned and looked back toward the cabin. In the moonlight with the smoke curling lazily from the chimney, it looked so snug and warm and safe. Maybe she should go back and wait for Willie and Bill to bring help. Then she chided herself and kept trudging forward. Probably that wolf would never smell her. Anyway, she was in more danger from that animal back at the cabin who made no bones about what he’d like to do to her.
Somewhere, the pack answered its leader’s howl and then she saw the black outline of the animals running along a distant ridge in the moonlight.
She wouldn’t even think about the wolves. The possibilities were too scary. Silver kept walking. While the snow behind her had a crust to it, now she had come to an area that had no frozen surface. She took a step and sank in the white, soft powder almost to her knees. It was slower going now and she found herself breathing hard. She hadn’t realized she was so weak. Her hands and feet were beginning to feel the cold.
She paused, panting, wondering how far she had come. The wolves howled again and the sound echoed through the hills and bounced back at her. The sound seemed much closer now. Would they smell the scent of the dried blood on her bandage?
The snowy scene around her no longer seemed beautiful, it seemed full of terrifying things. The shadows from the blue spruce seemed like fingers reaching out for her, black against the white, white snow.
The drifts were deeper here. Once she floundered into a soft spot and sank almost up to her waist. If her clothes got damp, it would be easy to freeze to death. Already her feet were losing their feeling. Her fingers seemed to be numb.
Whatever had made her think she could walk all the way back to town? She was going to freeze to death out here on the trail. At least people said it was an easy way to die. She’d heard that you just grew numb, closed your eyes, drifted off to sleep, and never woke up.
It would be so easy to do that, she thought, gasping for breath in the chill air. Maybe she would just sit down in the snow and rest a long moment, then she would get up and start walking again. Silver slumped down in the snow and put her face on her knees. She couldn’t remember ever being so tired or so cold.
Maybe she ought to go back to the cabin. Maybe she had a better chance against Cherokee than she did the cold. But even as she thought that, she heard the wolf pack howl again and realized with a start that they were on a scent, running along between her and the cabin. In that case, she didn’t dare think about going back. Nor could she just sit here. If she did, the wolves might pick up her trail and follow her to this spot. Freezing to death quietly was one thing; being torn to pieces and devoured alive by a pack of wolves was something else again.
She didn’t intend to do either. Drat it all, she intended to live! The thought galvanized her to action and she stood up, brushed the snow off her clothes, and searched around in the drift until she found a sturdy tree limb. This would work as a crutch and maybe as a weapon if she had to fight the wolves off. Silver began to walk again, but she tasted fear like a copper penny in her mouth.
There was no point in thinking about anything but getting to town . . . or dying in the attempt. She put one foot in front of the other and walked, even though she was having a hard time feeling her toes move in her boots.
The wind picked up, blowing past her toward the wolves. Would it carry her scent to the hungry predators ? The thought made her walk faster, leaning on the club she found. The animals might be more afraid of her than she was of them. If they should get her scent and trail her, maybe shouting at them and a few good blows with her club would scare them off.
For a moment as she struggled through the snow, she almost wished she were back at the cabin. Cherokee wouldn’t let a wolf get her. She’d be safe and warm curled up against his big chest.
Like hell she would! He’d have her on that fur rug in front of the fire, naked and defenseless while he rode her small body and put his hands and mouth all over her bare skin. Better to take her chances against the wolves!
Did she hear someone call her name? Silver stopped and listened intently. Maybe Al and a rescue party were just over the next ridge.
Here I am!” she shouted. Here I am!”
Here I am ... here I am ... am ... am . . .
The echo was so eerie, it made her feel even more alone and defenseless. Besides, the wolves might hear her voice if they hadn’t picked up her scent. Straining to hear, she tensed and listened. Nothing. She had only imagined that someone called her name.
In the distance behind her, a wolf howled again. It sounded nearer this time, but she couldn’t be sure if the pack really was closer or her fear only made it sound so.
Stop it, Silver! she admonished herself. You’ve got your club. Keep walking!
Her breathing came labored now but she kept putting one small foot in front of the other, even though she couldn’t feel her toes anymore. If her feet froze, would she be able to dance?
Almost in a dream, she saw herself on the stage at the Nugget, dancing and laughing for the cheering crowd. The silver-heeled shoes sparkled in the light as she danced.
Silver Heels! the crowd chanted. Silver Heels!
With her feet numb, she had difficulty maneuvering and she tripped and fell. For a long moment, she lay there, the flakes cold on her lips, and she thought of a laughing little girl making angels in the drifts, of the taste of snow ice cream and the only man who had truly loved her, her daddy, pulling her on a sled.
He seemed to be gesturing to her. Come with me, Silvia. Your life has been as unhappy as mine. Come with me. Give up as I did and I’ll take you to a place where there is no cold or terror or pain. . . .
No!” She pulled herself up on her knees. She wasn’t like Daddy; she wasn’t weak. She might not make it, but it wasn’t going to be because she gave up and surrendered to death as he had done. If Death was coming for her, he would have a fight on his hands.
All she wanted to do was sit down on the trail and close her eyes for a few minutes, but she realized that if she did, she might never wake up. Silver managed to get to her feet and stumbled forward again.
Silver decided she would not think about that. She would sing to block out their howling and also to keep herself awake. Could she remember the words to any songs?
It scared her to think how confused and disoriented she was while she tried to think about singing. She wasn’t even sure which way she was supposed to walk anymore. Away from the sound of the wolves howling. Yes, that was it, she was supposed to walk in the opposite direction from the wolves.
It rained all night the day I left, the weather it was dry, the sun so hot, I froze to death, Susanna, don’t you cry....
The whole thing struck her as funny, especially the part about freezing to death, and she couldn’t remember the rest of the words anyhow. It took more energy than she possessed to sing, and besides, she had to breathe deeper and the air was so cold. Maybe that hadn’t been such a good idea after all.
The wolves sounded excited behind her; no doubt they had picked up her trail at last. Maybe she could climb up into a tree and wait for them to go away. Silver looked around. All the trees looked no taller than a man and her hands were so numb, she wasn’t sure she could climb anyway.
Up ahead in the moonlight was a little rise. She stumbled toward it, the wolves baying behind her. From there, she had a slight advantage with her club, but not much. Beyond that were several big spruce trees ... if she could make it that far. She wasn’t even sure she could stumble to the little rise, but she’d give it a try.
The wolves howled and yapped on the trail behind her, excited over the scent of her blood on the bandage.
Silver swore under her breath and struggled toward the rise. You devils may get me, but I intend to take a couple of you with me first!” She made it to the rise and turned around, ready to face the oncoming pack that yelped closer and closer as they seemed to smell her scent. Silver braced herself and hefted her club in numb fingers. Freezing to death was one thing, but being eaten alive was something she hadn’t counted on!
Chapter Eight
Cherokee awakened suddenly and reared up on one elbow, looking around the cabin that was lit only by the firelight. What had awakened him? Maybe a burning bit of wood falling into the glowing coals?
He looked at the fire a long moment, yawning. Usually, he slept so lightly, a mouse tiptoing across the boards would wake him up, sending him grabbing for a weapon. But he had been exhausted from staying up all hours the night before by the girl’s bedside.
The girl. Being a taciturn and lonely man, he hadn’t realized how much he had begun to rely on her presence. She seemed to be sleeping quietly, her form motionless under her blankets. He settled back down, wondering what time it was. And then he reared straight up in bed. That was what had awakened him—the absence of her soft breathing.
My God, suppose she was dead? His heart almost stopped as he leaped up, crossed the floor in four long steps, and threw her covers back. Pillows. That’s what was under the covers, pillows placed so they looked like a body. Why, that little ...
Another thought crossed his mind that was even more horrifying. Where was she? Maybe she had stepped outside to relieve herself. He pictured how embarrassed she would be if he went outside and caught her in the snow. To protect her modesty, he would wait a long minute. The minute stretched into two.
Maybe she had gone out to the shed for some reason. Cherokee opened the back door and looked in at the sleepy burro that wiggled its long ears at him. Cherokee returned to the cabin.
Surely the little wench wouldn’t be loco enough to walk away from here, as far as it was back to town and with all this snow. Anxiously he peered out the frosted window and, not seeing her, threw the door open wide. To hell with her modesty!
Silver? Silver, are you out here? Answer me!”
Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled and the sound echoed through the desolate hills. Wayah. Wolf. Memories of Cherokee tribal tales about the animal came to his mind.
At least u-no-le, the wind, had died down. The moon was big and full tonight, illuminating the snowy scene. A set of small footprints led away from the cabin.
By damn! She was either crazier than any woman he had ever met or she was more scared of him than he had realized. For a moment, he cursed himself for admitting to her how much he desired her body. Surely after he had given his word, she didn’t believe he would rape her?
The air was so cold, his breath hung like ghostly fog on the night air. In this snow and weak as she was, Silver couldn’t possibly walk into town. But she could freeze to death trying.
Cursing himself for sleeping too soundly and the girl for her foolishness, Cherokee got his heavy coat and gloves, a backpack of supplies including a bottle of whiskey and extra cartridges for his loaded rifle, and started down the trail after her.
Somewhere in the distance, the wolf howled again and the pack answered him, yapping with excitement. They were on the trail of a rabbit or a deer, maybe. When they caught it, they would tear it to pieces and be swallowing it before the creature’s heart had even stopped beating. Could they be on Silver’s trail? The possibility scared him, as he thought about her shoulder wound. The slight scent of the blood on the bandage was enough to be carried on the breeze to that hungry pack.
Silver?”
Silver ... Silver ... Silver ... The echo mocked him.
When he caught that ornery chit, he’d half a mind to turn her over his knee and spank that lovely little bottom for dragging him out in the cold. Cherokee tried to concentrate on how angry he was with her as he strode along, the frozen surface crunching beneath his weight. As long as he thought about how mad he was, he wouldn’t be able to get frantic and worried.
God, it was cold! The air seemed to bite at his rugged face and he hunched his shoulders against the chill and kept walking. He thought about the whiskey in his pack and how it would warm him if he would only reach back, get the bottle, and drink it as he walked. Once he had liked the taste and he remembered that flavor now. He shook his head. Cherokee had sworn and he would keep that oath. The whiskey was for U-ne-ga, Silver, when he found her.
The wolves howled again. They seemed closer now. In fact, when he stopped to listen, it sounded as if they were between him and Silver.
A quarter mile, then a half, and still the little footprints lay ahead of him on the trail. Once he found where she had stumbled and fallen. Another place it looked as if she had simply sat down in the snow for a while.
He had covered at least a mile and he still hadn’t found her. He began to have a grudging admiration for her spunk. In her condition, he hadn’t thought she could make it a hundred yards, yet she was still moving ahead of him. Silver either had more grit than the average girl ... or she was too scared to stop.
The wolves howled again, much closer this time.
Silver? Silver, can you hear me?”
... hear me ... me ... me ...
Did he hear a voice in answer or was it only the echo? Cherokee checked to make sure his old rifle was loaded in case he crossed the trail of the wolf pack, and increased his speed. The cold was beginning to get to him. He tried not to think about whether Silver might be cold—or even lying dead and frozen along the trail. He had no way of knowing how long ago she had left the cabin.
The thought scared him so badly that he said a small prayer to the Great Spirit, A-da-nv-do. He had not prayed since his grandmother died and he had dug a hole all by himself in a hidden place in the Smoky Mountains and buried her. Then as a half-grown boy of eighteen, he had found his way across many miles to Tennessee and Shawn, his father’s friend who had taken him in and treated him like a son.
Cherokee thought of Silver lying helpless on the trail, and broke into a trot, carrying the rifle at the ready. Up ahead of him, the wolves had picked up a scent. Their excited yapping as they ran told him that. Was it the girl they were after?
At that thought, he broke into a run, moving awkwardly through the
snow. Then he topped a rise and looked down. The moon lit up the scene and the big shadows of the circled wolves almost hid the prey they had trapped. Cherokee took one look at the spunky girl swinging her club and then he took off down the slope. Silver, I’m coming!”
He stopped halfway, aimed, and took the lead wolf down as it sprang at her. The wolves set up a frightened yelp as their leader fell, then they turned and fled into the brush. Cherokee didn’t stop all the way to her.
She fell into his arms, sobbing. I—I—thought I was going to die! They’ve been trailing me for a long time...”
I know, I know. It’s okay now.” He held her tightly against him. You’re safe now, nothing will get you.”
God, she seemed half-frozen. He pulled off his gloves and felt her face. You crazy little fool! You couldn’t have made it all the way to town! Were you that afraid of me?”
Her big eyes gave him the answer and he cursed himself for having told her how much he desired her. What kind of a saloon girl would rather face death in the snow than bed a man? Surely she did it all the time?
Here, I’ve got some whiskey in my pack.” He dug it out.
No, no whiskey,” she struggled, but she was too weak to fight him.
He forced the bottle between her teeth. Drink it, Silver, if I don’t get you warm, you may have frost bite and lose the tip of your nose and some of your toes and fingers.”
Even though she fought him, he got a good slug of the whiskey in her belly. He pulled off her gloves and felt her fingers. They were freezing cold. Can you feel them?”
She shook her head.
He jerked open his jacket and shirt, grabbed her hands, forced one of them under each of his armpits, then pressed her face against his big chest.
Silver struggled and protested.
Shut up,” he ordered, and he turned her face so that his warm flesh was against her other cheek. Her small hands under his arms felt frozen and lifeless. You’re lucky I turned up when I did.”
She didn’t argue, but pressed her face against him. He felt her shivering through both their clothes, and heard her teeth chatter.
Quicksilver Passion Page 12
