by Carré White
I detected a hint of humor, as he fought a smile. “That would be even more dangerous.”
“Yes.”
The men had taken the babies from the shallow den, talking amongst themselves about which tree to hang the bundle from. “I guess we’ll find out soon enough. They seem healthy. Something’s been taking care of them. The mother will return.”
He eyed Silas, who had thrown a rope around a limb. “I’d get somewhere safe, if I were you.” The babies, sensing something was amiss, had begun to cry, the sound utterly strange, but loud. “Like right about now.” He took my arm, pulling me away. “I’d get outta sight, boys,” he warned.
Micah dragged me up the mountain, but we weren’t alone, because the sheriff had joined us, panting raggedly. “It won’t be long now.” He grasped his weapon. “I’d say those rocks should do. We can hide behind them and observe what’s happening.” The others had hidden as well, and taken up positions.
When we had reached our objective, I glanced at the small clearing below, seeing the baby cubs dangling within the net. Their high-pitched cries filled the air, because all three had begun to shriek. Micah stared down the sights of his weapon at the scene below, while the sheriff did the same. I gazed around, expecting to see Silas, but he had gone in another direction, standing with Butch, Bryce, and the other men across the way. He waved, grinning, clearly enjoying the moment.
We waited for no more than a few minutes before a dark shape emerged, scampering out from within the trees. I had hoped the mother’s condition would be assessed before she was killed, but a volley of gunfire erupted, none of the shots originating from our weapons.
The sheriff frowned. “Hold your fire!” The animal fell to the ground, unmoving. “You numbskulls!” He scrambled down the hill, stumbling over his booted feet to emerge upon the scene, where the babies continued to cry. He bent over the bear, examining her. “She’s not rabid! Dang blasted! We were supposed to watch her for disease. You killed a perfectly healthy bear.”
I glanced at Silas across the way, who did not seem surprised by this turn of events. “Goodness,” I murmured unhappily.
“The babies were healthy,” Micah said. “There was no reason for the mother to be sick.”
“Oh, that’s terrible. What about the babies?”
“They’ll die,” he said starkly.
“This didn’t need to happen.”
“Let’s go down. We should make camp for the night.”
He moved to pass me, but I grabbed his arm. “What would you do? How would you find the bears?”
“I wouldn’t have. They’re diseased. They’ll die on their own.”
“Then why did we come here? Why did you let us?”
“I have no control over these men, Saffron. They’ll do whatever they want. Your beau is determined to make a fool outta himself. Why should I stop him? You were determined to join him, and that’s where I draw the line. I’m not here for the bears. I’m here for you.”
Something twisted in my chest, and, as our eyes met, I wanted to deny the connection I had begun to feel, but I could not. “I thought it would be easier. Maybe we can keep the babies alive and take them with us as bait?”
“Only the mother would care, and she’s dead.” He glanced at where my hand was, because I had not let go. “I know you want to prove yourself and be helpful, and perhaps you’ll get that chance. My only responsibility is to make sure you get home in one piece. I made that promise to your father, and I keep my promises.”
I released his arm. “You shouldn’t feel responsible. I’m perfectly able of taking care of myself.” I watched him carefully, expecting to see some form of denial or to hear what men usually said, that women are weak and incapable, but no such words came from him.
“Feeling responsible for you isn’t a hardship. I’m actually enjoying every hour I spend out here, despite being surrounded by a mob of idiots. They could fall off the side of the mountain for all I care, but just not you.”
“Saffron! Where are you?” called Silas at a distance. “It’s safe now. The bear’s dead.”
“I'm here! We’re coming!” I led the way, while Micah followed, but my thoughts remained in turmoil, the words he had spoken echoing in my head. But I had to think of something else. “So, it seems we might be here tonight. Where should we camp?”
“Near water. We’re in no danger from flood at the moment.”
I glanced over my shoulder, intending to continue the conversation, when I spotted something that made my stomach drop. An equal measure of panic and fear ran swiftly through my veins. I fought the instinct to scream, grasping the rifle and bringing the stock to my shoulder. I aimed at the object that scampered towards us at astounding speed and fired, the sound nearly deafening.
Micah, having seen me lift the weapon, fired then as well, both of our bullets connecting with the bear, who had come within ten feet of us, foaming at the mouth, with eyes ablaze. This creature was far larger than the mother bear, and it had not stopped its approach. I loaded another cartridge as fast as I could, aiming and shooting, while Micah did the same. The animal roared ferociously, throwing its large, furry head back, while spittle flung from its mouth. Too close to shoot now, Micah withdrew a knife, the blade glinting in what remained of the late afternoon sun, but we mercifully wouldn’t need it, because the bear stumbled then, its enormous body tumbling to the ground at our feet.
Stunned, I stared at the animal, while someone shouted, “What was that? What happened?”
An enormous grin split Micah’s face. I could not recall ever seeing him smile this brightly, his rugged features looking boyish. “You saved my skin!” he exclaimed. “If you hadn’t seen it when you did, we’d both be dead right now.”
“It was pure chance. I hadn’t heard a thing.” My breathing had yet to return to normal, my heart pounding.
“What’s happening? Saffron?” Silas appeared, holding a rifle before him. “By all that’s holy. What on earth happened? Where did this creature come from?” He strode towards us, followed by the rest of our party, who all held weapons. “This must be the feral bear. Just look at its mouth. It’s foaming badly.” He kicked the prone animal with the tip of his boot. “It certainly looks dead.”
The sheriff approached, gazing at the bear. “I’ll be darned. Nice job, folks. Must’ve been the daddy. He sure is big.”
“I doubt that,” said Micah. “It’s rabid, though. I wouldn’t eat the meat, but I’d skin it. The hide’s worth a pretty penny.”
Butch and Wesley stood nearby with Bryce, who grinned. “That was a close call,” he said.
“She saw it first. She shot first.” Micah pointed at me. “She saved my life. I didn’t even hear the darn thing. It was no more than ten feet behind me, and I didn’t hear it.” Appreciation shone in his eyes. “She’s a fine shot, all right. Your bullets hit him between the eyes. I think mine grazed the ear.”
“It doesn’t matter.” I lowered the weapon with trembling hands, the adrenaline from the attack had yet to abate. “We aren’t going back today, are we?”
“It’s getting late,” said Sheriff Palmer. “We should make camp.” The sound of baby bears echoed in the distance. “We’re gonna eat some bear tonight and skin the rest. That should make a rather nice supper.”
“I’ll scout out a spot,” said Wesley. “Someone else can take over the slaughtering responsibilities.”
“I’ll skin this bear,” said Butch. “Unless someone else wants to.”
Silas strode towards me. “I don’t.” He held out his hand. “Come along, Saffron, you little bear killer, you. Let’s build the fire. I’m parched.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Who brought the whiskey? I think we’re in need of a celebration.”
“There’s probably more than one rabid bear,” murmured Micah. “I’d be on the lookout for more. This one was as quiet as the wind. Not even a twig snapped beneath its paws. That’s quite extraordinary, actually, for something that weighs at least eight hundre
d pounds.”
“I don’t want to butcher anything.” I would only do so in dire circumstances of survival, leaving the task to the men. Making a fire and boiling water was something I could easily accomplish. I had flint in my pack.
“Me either,” said Silas. “But I’ll eat those baby bears. I bet they’ll be tender and tasty.” He noted my expression. “Well, they’ll die anyhow now. Their mother’s dead. Who will feed them?”
I followed him, knowing he spoke the truth, but it wasn’t something I wanted to witness. Micah joined us, walking by my side. We wandered down towards where the mother had fallen, the babies crying out, hanging in the net from the tree. I didn’t want to look at them, knowing they wouldn’t live much longer. I focused on arranging a fire pit, just like the ones pa would make when we camped outdoors.
Micah brought over rocks and firewood, while every other man had a job, besides Silas, who produced a bottle of whiskey. He sat beneath a tree, sipping the beverage, while we worked. I had packed a thin wool blanket, but nothing else to sleep on. I could manage one night in the elements, but it would grow colder later, the temperature dipping into the forties.
The bear cubs had been taken down, and Butch brought them to the river to slaughter and prepare for cooking. Wesley began to strip the fur from the female, whistling while he worked. It wasn’t long before a roaring fire lit up the night sky and pots boiled with water. The sheriff, his deputy, Butch, and Micah assembled a one-sided lean-to across from the fire. When the pelts had been fleshed and salted, they were hung over the thick branches, offering not only warmth, but also protection from the elements. The meat from the cubs had been cubed and seasoned, thrown into a large frying pan over the flames.
I sat on a blanket, sipping water from my jar, surprisingly at ease in these surroundings. The only blight on the horizon was Silas, who continued to drink, laughing at nothing in particular and generally behaving like a fool. He hadn’t lifted one finger to help with our camp preparations. I glanced at my filthy fingernails, feeling some pride in their appearance, because gunpowder and dirt had accumulated. I had earned my keep for the day, working as hard as any of the men. I had even helped kill a rabid bear. Micah sat across from me, sipping from his horn, looking thoughtful. I met his gaze, our eyes locking.
Lord, I think I’m beginning to wonder what your plan is. There’s a reason you brought Micah into my life, isn’t there?
Chapter Twenty-One
We ate supper, using tin plates and utensils that one of the men had brought. I sat next to Bryce and Micah, who spoke little while eating, although Silas kept a steady stream of conversation going, speaking on a variety of topics. From the lack of responses, not everyone thought him diverting. When Sheriff Palmer gave him a plate, he eyed the fare dubiously.
“I’ve seen rotten deer meat that looked better, but I’ll give it a try.” He stabbed the meat with his fork, bringing it to his mouth. “It’s terribly chewy, isn’t it? And gamey.” He grimaced. “I’m not all that hungry anyway.” He tossed the contents of the plate into a bush. “I’ll just drink my supper.”
Although there had been more than enough meat, such a show of waste stunned me. I continued to eat, finding the meat chewy, but it felt nourishing, and although the cubs had been slaughtered, at least the food would not be squandered. After finishing what remained on my plate, I stood, intending to wash my hands in the stream. Micah, apprehending this, got to his feet as well, following me.
“It wasn’t that terrible,” I said. “The seasoning helped. If it had been boiled all day, the meat would’ve been tender.”
“Any food is good food.”
I bent by the water, running my fingers beneath the current. “In this situation, yes.”
“I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”
That was surprising. “You have?” Shadow surrounded us, the sun having all but disappeared.
“What you did today was very brave. I’m still thinking about that bear. It was so silent. It would’ve killed me or maimed me, and then I would’ve contracted rabies and died a terrible death. I’m even more impressed by you.”
“It was my luck to look over my shoulder at that moment. It was just luck.”
“I examined the carcass. The bullet that killed it came from your weapon. I don’t carry a Sharps rifle. I thought I grazed its ear, and I did.”
I dried my hands on my skirt. “Well, if you had seen it, you would’ve done the same. At least it’s dead now. We can go home tomorrow.”
“One of the rabid bears are gone, but there may be more. It’s impossible to police the entire wilderness. If that was the only other diseased bear, then I’d be happy, but none of us know how many are out there. I’m pleased to be going home, though.”
Sitting back on my heels, I watched him cup his hands and wash his face. “I thought you were fond of mountains? You do this as a profession.”
“I’ll feel better when you’re home. I know you’re adept, but women shouldn’t be out here. There are dangers around every corner and not just the animals.”
“Well, this adventure is nearly over, and all it took was one day.” I sighed. “If I’d brought more supplies, I wouldn’t have minded staying a little longer.” I had his full attention, my senses prickling in strange, yet pleasing ways.
“I have something for you.”
“You do?”
He reached into his pocket, withdrawing a small leather pouch. “This is yours. A black bear isn’t as esteemed as a grizzly, but you could make a necklace from it all the same. The Indians believe bear claw necklaces hold spiritual powers of protection and healing.” He handed over the bag. “It’s a memento of your conquest. Congratulations.”
I took it, opening the drawstring top and examining the contents. I pulled out one huge ivory-colored claw after another. “Goodness. Imagine that tearing through your flesh.”
“I did.” He grinned. “You spared me untold agony.”
“Maybe you’ll get a chance to do the same for me.”
His smile fell. “I hope not. That was far too close for comfort. I’ve been pondering why I wasn’t more aware of my surroundings. I figured out what the trouble is. You’re partly to blame.”
“I am?”
“I was supposed to be alert for any sign of danger, and yet, I was too busy watching you.”
That pleased me ridiculously. “So, it is all my fault.”
“I adore watching you, Saffron. You carry yourself with natural grace, even in those over-sized boots. How anyone could not watch you is beyond me.”
“You have to stop flattering me.” I didn’t want to encourage him, because I was spoken for, but his words had their intended affect.
“Someone should tell you how beautiful you are every day, even covered in a layer of dust.”
“Stop that.”
“And how your eyes light up when you laugh. You should laugh more often.”
I got to my feet, brushing debris from the bottom of the skirt. “You’re more of a rogue than I thought. You’ve had some practice at flirting, haven’t you? It’s a wonder you’re not married yet.”
“I’ve been patiently waiting for the right woman to come along.” He stood, staring at me. “I won’t be persuaded by anything other than my ideal mate, because life’s too short to make such a catastrophic mistake. I watched my parents argue nearly every day of their lives together, and I don’t plan on living like that. If you’re not compatible at the start, you never will be.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“My mother was never completely right in her head. She had a depressive nature, which led her to drink and take laudanum. The doctor gave her enough to kill a horse, but … ” he shook his head, “never mind. You don’t want to hear this.”
“I do. What happened?”
He stepped away, his boots crunching over rocks. “She was rendered useless basically. She spent most of her days in a stupor. When she was lucid, which wasn’t very often, she and pa would a
rgue. It was one of the many reasons I left home. I found out later she’d taken too much of the stuff and died.”
“I’m sorry, Micah. How awful.”
“We’ve all lost someone.”
I fell into step with him, glimpsing the campfire through the swaying branches of a ponderosa pine. “Yes, but it doesn't make it any easier.”
“I’m glad there isn’t an opium den in Fern Valley. Most towns have several. They’re a scourge. They should be outlawed.”
“I agree, although I haven’t seen many. I suppose I wasn’t paying attention.”
“People lose themselves that way faster than anything I’ve ever seen.”
“I can imagine.”
We approached camp, where another bottle of whiskey had appeared, the men passing it around. Silas, grinning from ear to ear, had settled on his bedroll, which he’d place on the other side of the fire.
“Tell us more about that doxy of yours, Silas,” said Butch. “She’s a fine-looking one. Widows are a young man’s dream, eh? They’re lonely and eager and oh, so willing.”
“Ahem,” said the sheriff, having perceived me. “We’ve a lady in our midst. There are some subjects we should not talk about.”
I sat on my blanket, but my ears had been singed. Had Butch been referring to Mrs. Clarissa Faris? My female intuition had needled me unrelentingly, warning me that something had occurred between them, but I hadn’t wanted to believe it. I glanced at my beau, noticing his furtive smile.
Silas gripped the mostly empty bottle of whiskey, falling backwards onto his bedding. “Ah, it was nothin’,” he slurred. “I can’t be responsible for what I do after a bottle of Taylor’s Scion.”
Lowering my glance, I stared into the flames, while something inside me died. He had all but admitted to infidelity, not realizing he had spoken so before me. It wasn’t long before his snores filled the camp, the whiskey having rendered him unconscious. Micah scooted nearer, resting his arms over his knees, keeping me company, albeit silently.
The men continued to speak, sharing whiskey and laughing, the feeling was light and congratulatory, because the offending animal had been killed today. Some meat remained, and Leonard made himself another plate, chewing heartily. The sheriff looked at me, smiling in sympathy, because he knew all too well what I had overheard. Perhaps, Silas had only said those things to brag about exploits that hadn’t happened? But why would he lie about something like that? And what man would dishonor a woman by admitting to an affair, even if it hadn’t happened? Those things should be kept private, and now every man at camp would pass along the information to all and sundry upon returning to Fern Valley.
