Bride of the Wild

by Carré White

  “What do you think?” asked Bryce, who came to stand next to him.

  “I’m wondering which direction the bear dragged the body. It’s puzzling. Why would he drag a body? They’d either kill it and eat it or leave it.”

  “They’re feral, Micah. Nothing makes sense in the least. These aren’t normal bears.”

  “We should go.” I glanced at the party up ahead, as they disappeared around the bend. “We’ve fallen behind.”

  Micah got to his feet, looking thoughtful. “Perhaps, it’ll make sense later.” He glanced at me. “How are you faring, Saffron?”

  “I’m perfectly fine.”

  “It’s all uphill for a while.”

  The altitude had left me breathless, but I remained determined to continue on. We had not even hiked for an hour yet. “I’m eager to not be left behind.”

  “Then on we go.” Micah fell into step beside me, his backpack bouncing, while something metal clanged.

  “What did you bring? You’re noisy.”

  “It’s a small pot and some utensils. It’s best to be as quiet as possible out here. I’ll fix it the next time we stop.”

  “You’ve thought of everything.”

  “No, not at all. It’s just a matter of time before I realize I forgot something important. It happens on every trip. No matter how well I pack, I always forget something. It’s the one thing I can count on.”

  “Perhaps, whatever you forgot will be remembered by someone else.”

  “I can’t rely on another for my own well-being. Not from my experience anyhow.”

  “That’s a rather sour way to look at it.”

  “You may think that, but it’s common sense. It’s every man for himself mostly, especially when something goes wrong.”

  Bryce listened to the conversation, his footfalls crunching over debris. “I agree. It’s better to be entirely self-sufficient. However, a friend is still better, especially if you can trust him. Someone to ride the river with is a true friend indeed.”

  We had caught up with those before us, as they had stopped, gathering around in a circle. “I suppose they found something else,” I said, pointing. “It was thoughtful of this bear to leave a path straight to the den.” I had meant that sarcastically, worrying about what they had found.

  “That remains to be seen.” Micah squinted, glancing into the distance. “I wonder what that’s about?”

  As we approached, Silas stopped me. “Perhaps, you shouldn’t see this, Saffron.” Concern flashed in his eyes.

  Something smelled dreadful. “What is it?” I pushed my way through, stopping before a pile of what looked like refuse, until I got a better look. “Oh, gracious!” The remains of a woman lay at my feet, and, from the looks of it, her throat had been slit, her arms nearly severed, and the torso gored. Her features remained hidden beneath dried blood, her eyes open and frozen, while insects had invaded, buzzing and crawling inside her wounds. Her legs had been chewed upon and eaten to the bone.

  “Lord in heaven,” uttered the sheriff. “Does anyone know who she is?”

  “She looks Indian,” said Wesley. “She might be a trapper’s wife.”

  “I don’t recall a missing woman.” Sheriff Palmer stood with his hands on his hips. “How many more victims are there?”

  I glanced at Micah, wondering at his thoughts. “She deserves a proper burial,” he said.

  “We’ll bring her down on the way back,” said Silas. “We must continue on. This shouldn’t slow us.”

  Micah did not like this idea, frowning. “We may not come this way on the return. Does she have anything identifying her? A bracelet, a necklace? Is there anything in her pocket? If there’s nothing, then we should take some of her hair. Someone might recognize it. Or a piece of her clothing. Then we should bury her properly.”

  Silas grimaced. “An enormous waste of time that will be.” He glared at Micah. “We should go now, while the trail is still warm and the day is long.”

  The sheriff nodded gloomily. “See if you can find anything on her, Leonard. Then we’ll bury her. It’s the right thing to do.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “‘And I heard a voice from heaven saying, ‘Write this: Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on.’ ‘Blessed indeed,’ says the Spirit, ‘that they may rest from their labors, for their deeds follow them!’ Revelation 14:13.” Sheriff Palmer read these words, having brought a Bible with him, and I felt gratitude at this, because everyone deserved a proper farewell, even someone unknown to us, who may or may not be of our faith. It was the least we could do for the poor woman.

  Silas tossed a rock onto the shallow mound, his movements hurried. “It’s done. We need to go.”

  We had not spent more than a half an hour digging and collecting rocks for the grave. She had a small chain in her pocket with a silver locket. An inscription on the back had read: To my darling, Silvia. Whether this had been the woman’s name or not remained unknown, as Silvia wasn’t a typical Indian name. Perhaps, the locket had belonged to someone else, and she had traded for it. None of it mattered now anyhow, because we needed to continue on.

  “May you rest in peace,” murmured Micah. He lingered, staring at the grave.

  “I hope we can find her kin. Someone must be missing her, wondering where she is.”

  “Everyone is important to someone.”

  I glanced at him, acknowledging a bond that had been growing since the day we met. “I’m glad we buried her. That was the least we could do.” The image of what I had seen lingered in my mind; a troubling foreshadowing of the future, but I had to set it aside and focus on the task at hand.

  “I would spare you from seeing more, Saffron. If you wish, I’ll take you back myself. You needn’t go any further.”

  “Go back?”

  “To the Goldman farm. I’d feel better, if you would not continue.”

  “But you’re their guide. They need you.”

  He shrugged. “I’m certain they’ll do just fine with or without me.”

  “I can’t leave, Micah. I’ve made up my mind to join the hunt, and I shall.”

  Silas glanced our way. “We’re off. Come along, Saffron.”

  Thinking this might finally be my opportunity to speak to him, I hurried over, leaving Micah alone. “Shall we walk together?” I asked hopefully.

  “Of course, my dear. How are you feeling? Are you tired yet?”

  “Not at all.”

  “You’re looking a bit peaked.”

  “I am?” I touched my face. “I’m hot from all the exercise.” It troubled me that he thought I was too weak to accompany them, because this was not true at all.

  Micah approached with Bryce in tow, but the sheriff and his deputy had already gone ahead. “That was a waste of time.” Silas scarcely looked at Micah, keeping his gaze forward. “We never should’ve stopped.”

  I fell into step with him, scrambling to keep up, as his strides were lengthy. I had wanted to speak to him, but the distance between us increased to such an extent that I stared at his back. With the altitude on the rise, I struggled to breathe at this pace, falling behind even further. I walked with Bryce and Micah now, while Silas spoke with Deputy Thomas.

  My lack of stamina was frustrating. “Am I slow or are they too fast?” I asked miserably.

  “You’re just fine,” said Micah, who grinned slightly.

  He enjoyed having me near, but I had to wonder if he would walk faster alone. “Do you always go this slow?”

  “Yes, ma’am. There’s no need to hurry unless I’m outrunning an avalanche.”

  I eyed him covertly. He certainly did seem pleased to be with me, but I yearned to spend time with Silas, and, perhaps later, I would be able to speak to him.

  We continued along a path that wound around the mountain, but each step had begun to exhaust me, even at the lesser pace. I was determined to not slow the men down, wanting to prove my worth, but I secretly hoped they would stop once we reached the top. When
my strength had truly begun to ebb, we came upon the rest of our group, who had been waiting for us.

  “Looks like the trail runs cold,” said the sheriff. “What do you think, Mr. Blaylock?”

  He strode forward, while I waited with Bryce, relieved to have a moment to catch my breath. The bottom of my dress held inches of dust and my feet swam in wetness, as I had sweated through the winter socks. The fur hat had been far too warm, having been removed some time ago, leaving my head exposed to the elements.

  Micah paused, with his hands on his hips, lifting his chin, his face catching the sunlight. “We’re going to have to spread out and look for the den. Bears typically sleep beneath rock outcroppings or in shallow ditches. I’ve seen them under fallen trees as well. They prefer protection from the elements, so anything with an overhang will do.”

  “I’m well aware of that,” said Silas. “Everyone knows that, but where should we look? Do we go on ahead to the top of this mountain or do we look here? That’s the question.”

  Sheriff Palmer gazed at Micah. “What do you recommend?”

  “It could be anywhere. Has anyone seen any fecal matter? I saw a bit earlier on, but nothing for a while. They won’t enter their dens until October, so I’d assume they’re out foraging now.”

  “But these bears are diseased,” said Butch. “They’re not doing what normal bears would do. Most will die soon enough from what ails them.”

  “So they’re either in a den or out foraging?” Deputy Thomas reached into his pocket, withdrawing what looked like a small monocular. “Before we go any further, I'm going to have a look. Perhaps, I can see something. If they’re out nearby, they should be in sight.”

  I had brought a jar of water and had a sip, while waiting for the men to decide what they would do next. The sun had slowly traveled across the sky, now resting in a westerly direction. Hours had gone by, and my belly rumbled from hunger.

  “Go have a look,” encouraged Sheriff Palmer. “That’s a solid idea, son. If you don’t see anything, we’ll spread out and look for the den.”

  I found a rock to sit on, waiting for Deputy Thomas to peer into the valley below, standing near an outcropping with Silas and Wesley by his side, the men chatting amiably. Micah took a sip of water from his horn, glancing at me.

  “If we’re out here for the night, we’ll have to boil water. Luckily, there’s a rather swift stream down below.”

  “I’m sure they’ll find something.” I felt hopeful. “I doubt it’ll take much longer.” I glanced at where the men stood, sharing the monocular and speaking amongst themselves. “They’ve probably spotted the bears already.”

  We waited for a while, resting ourselves, until Silas and Leonard returned to where we were. “There was nothing,” said Silas. “We should look for the den. We’re wasting precious time.”

  The sheriff nodded. “All right, let’s split up and make progress.”

  I did not think for one moment that Silas would wait for me, but when he held his hand out, I felt a flurry of excitement, knowing he would allow me to accompany him in this endeavor. “Up with you, Saffron.” He grasped my hand, hauling me to my feet. “Let’s go find those bears. You’ve a loaded rifle, correct?” He grinned, his pale, blue eyes flashing.

  “Yes, I do.” I would finally be able to speak with him, having waited all day for this moment. “I’m ready as ever.”

  “Excellent.” He began to walk away, but not as fast as before, waiting for me to catch up.

  I glanced over my shoulder at Micah, who frowned. Bryce patted him on the shoulder in a conciliatory manner, offering his nonverbal support. Oddly, in that moment, I felt the most ridiculous urge to return to him, and every step I took in the other direction felt leaden. I would not be able to ponder this strange phenomenon, because Silas and I joined Deputy Thomas then, while the other men broke into groups of threes, heading in differing directions to look for the bear den.

  We scrambled partially down the side of a cliff, which led to a clearing, through which a stream ran, the water scintillating in the sunlight. It smelled earthy and damp here, the grasses nearly as high as my waist. Silas glanced in all directions, sometimes stopping by a fallen tree to check for a hole. I wanted to be helpful, observing everything keenly, but nothing looked suitable for a sleeping place for bears.

  “I’m hoping the others are having more luck,” said Leonard. “This isn’t promising in the least.”

  “You never know when you might come upon them. We should be mindful of that.”

  The sun had begun to dip, as if too heavy to hold itself up, the ground speckled with shadows. I wouldn’t say it, but I suspected we would have to camp for the night. It had not been as easy as everyone hoped, because we had yet to find a bear. “Should I fill my jar with water?” I knelt by the stream, which felt cool beneath my fingers. “I can boil it later.”

  “You’ve read my mind.” Silas came to stand beside me, his leather boots scuffed. “We might have to sleep here tonight. Even if we turn back now, we’ll be walking in the dark. Did anyone bring a lantern?”

  “Sheriff Palmer did.”

  “Well,” he grinned, flashing white teeth, “that’s something.” He squatted next to me. “I’m rather disappointed in this Micah fellow. I would’ve thought he’d be a better scout. He has almost nothing to offer, besides delaying us an hour digging a hole for that Indian.” He picked up a stone and threw it into the water.

  “She deserved a proper burial, Indian or not, Silas.”

  “It held us up. We could’ve been here earlier, ascertained nothing was here, and headed back.”

  It irritated me that he thought so poorly of Micah. “I’m taking this water for later.” I screwed the lid on the jar, sliding it into my skirt pocket. “I’m going to keep looking.” I gripped the weapon, determined to be useful, although I felt anything but.

  “I’ll join you.”

  “I’d like that. I’ve been waiting all day to talk to you.”

  “You’re keeping up rather well for a woman. I don’t believe I’ve heard you complain once yet, but the going has been rather easy. It’s usually when things are difficult that females start to whine. I know Susan would’ve been impossible to deal with. She’s dreadfully slow on family walks, when we have picnics. Moving from the carriage to the blanket is quite the ordeal.”

  “I want to be helpful. I’m perfectly fine.”

  “I can see that.”

  We skirted around a piling of rocks, treading carefully. If bears lurked, we might accidentally stumble upon them, and that could be disastrous. “Not all women are inept and whine, Silas.”

  “Most are rather helpless.”

  I ignored that comment. “It seems Mrs. Faris was sorry to see you leave this morning. She’s grown rather fond of you.”

  “She’s a friend of Susan’s. Her husband was killed during the Jicarilla War. She has some stories to tell about the White Massacre that are rather unbelievable.” Settlers traveling west by wagon were attacked by a band of Jicarillas and Utes, which resulted in an intense manhunt, lead by the 1st Cavalry. None of the settlers survived the attack or the rescue.

  “How awful. I had no idea.”

  “You’re invited to dinner as soon as we return home. Then you can listen for yourself. She’s a talented storyteller.”

  I hated the twinge of jealously that prickled. “I imagine. Did she live in New Mexico?”

  “No, but her husband was dispatched there, as part of the 1st Cavalry. He was at the garrison near Taos.”

  “In the thick of it all, I see. I’m sorry he lost his life. It must be a hardship for her.”

  “She’s living with Jane Philips now and traveling to California. They’ll stay here for the winter, though. It’s too dangerous to try the mountains this late.”

  We had cleared the rocks, finding nothing of interest. Then from above us, a voice shouted, “I got something!”

  I did not know who had spoken, but gunfire erupted, the sound sha
ttered the quietude of the day, sending a flock of birds into the sky.

  Chapter Twenty

  We hurried back the way we came, scrambling around the boulders to wade through tall grasses that grew by the stream. My heart pounded, not just from the exercise, but also from fear. Whatever had happened above us had resulted in gunfire. Deputy Thomas and Silas drew their weapons, and I followed closely, determined not to straggle. When we reached the site of the incident, we found everyone had gathered, Micah glancing in my direction.

  “I’m an idiot,” said Butch Cashman. My weapon discharged by accident. Sorry about that.” He grinned wryly. “Come see what Wesley found.” He pointed to a darkened hole in the ground. “This might be something rather useful.”

  I approached, relieved the gunshot had been accidental. “What is it?” They stared into the hole. Silas and I looked at the same time, seeing the furry forms of three baby bears.

  “Isn’t it a bit early in the season for this?” asked the sheriff.

  “Litters aren’t typically born until January or February, so yes. It’s too early.” Micah seemed perplexed, his brows furrowing.

  “Then why are there babies now?” I asked. The animals slept, curled up against one another.

  “Who cares,” said Butch. “This is exactly what we need. We can use them as bait to attract the mother bear. I say we put ‘em in a net and hang them from a tree. Then we wait for the big bear to come and shoot it.”

  “Excellent idea,” agreed Silas. “Who brought a net?”

  I wandered towards Micah, who stood by an aspen, leaning against it. “What do you think?”

  “They’ll do whatever they want.”

  “It seems like a sound plan.”

  “If it works.”

  “I wonder how long before the mother comes?”

  “The problem is, how do we know an infected bear gave birth to those babies? They seem healthy enough. They’re too early, but maybe they’re not black bears. Maybe it’s some other species. If we’re especially lucky, it’ll be a grizzly bear.”