Bride of the Wild

by Carré White

  I sensed Micah’s appraisal, turning towards him. “It’s getting colder.”

  “It is.”

  “How shall we sleep?”

  “Side-by-side. Body heat is the best source of warmth, besides a fire, but we’ll still feel the chill.”

  “How did you survive out here in the winter?”

  “I’d choose my hunting ground first. Then I’d build a hut in the middle of it. It was rather primitive, with a pole framework and a bark roof. Then I’d set out each day and hunt, returning in the afternoon. When I had exhausted the area, I’d move to another and repeated the procedure.”

  “I see.”

  “Sometimes I’d find someone else’s abandoned shelter and use it. There’s a log cabin along the Sweetwater River. I spent an entire winter there once.”

  “And you’re thinking of pursuing this line of work again.”

  “Beaver’s harder and harder to find. It’s been pretty much tapped out. The only ones still making money are the trappers far in the mountains, the most hardy of mountain men. I’m not sure I’ve the will to do that. I’ve been at it long enough.”

  “What will you do then?”

  “Work closer to town, I suppose. I thought about heading further west, but I’m not so sure now.”

  “You said you might be a scout.”

  “I’d be on the road half the year. I could, if I had to. I might work for you pa.”

  I glanced at the prone form of Silas, who had fallen asleep still gripping the bottle of whiskey. “I wouldn’t object, if you came to work for us.”

  “You didn’t think so highly of it when I first mentioned it.”

  “That’s because I was in a foul mood. I was grumpy about everything.”

  “I see.” A lazy gaze drifted over my face. “Your father seems to like me.”

  “He sure does. I’ve never seen him warm to a person so fast. It took ages before he’d let Silas through the front door without scowling at him fiercely. He doesn’t care for him in the least.”

  “Did your mother know Silas?”

  “She did. She was acquainted with his mother.”

  “What did she think of him?”

  I searched my memory. “That was before things became serious. I’d attended several Friday night socials with him, but nothing else. I hadn’t been invited to supper or anything, and he hadn’t come to our house. She was starting to get sick then. She had other things on her mind.”

  “I’m sorry you lost her.”

  “From the onset of the symptoms to death, it wasn’t a long time. It happened within a few months. One moment she was perfectly fine, and then she couldn’t leave her bed.”

  “Did they know what it was?”

  “The doctor thought it was an infection of the liver. There was little he could do about it, but he gave her every tonic he could get his hands on. None of the cures worked.”

  He nodded glumly. “The body is one big mystery.”

  I yawned. “Certainly.”

  His gaze skimmed over my face. “You’re tired.”

  “I am. Do you think we’ll be safe tonight? Will someone need to stay awake and be on the lookout for trouble?”

  “I sleep lightly. We should be fine.”

  “I do too.” I glanced at Silas. “He won’t be much help.”

  He refrained from saying anything, but I could sense he had a great deal on his mind.

  “I’m done with Silas,” I murmured, stunned that I had said those words out loud.

  “What?” Micah’s head snapped in my direction.

  “I’m going to tell him the courtship is over. I’ve seen more than enough of his behavior to know I’d be terribly unhappy, if I married him. He’s not even asked anyhow.” I picked a twig from the fabric of my skirt. “I don’t know why I didn’t see it before, but I guess I didn’t want to face the truth.”

  Micah stared at me with his mouth open. “Thank God.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Despite sleeping fully clothed, with a hat, gloves and jacket on, I still shivered most of the night. I found myself wedged between Sheriff Palmer, who snored terribly, and Micah, with whom I shared a blanket. Someone had thrown a pelt over Silas, who had yet to wake from his whiskey-induced stupor. Having made the decision not to continue to court him, I felt it had been the correct one, knowing in my heart he lacked many of the qualities I had hoped for in a husband. Money alone was not enough of an inducement for me to set aside my need for fidelity and human compassion. Silas stood to improve in both of these areas, and I doubted he ever would.

  Most of the men woke before sunrise, as I could hear them scampering around in the forest, visiting the stream and speaking in hushed tones. I had scooted nearer to Micah, his arm across my shoulder, while my nose pressed to his jacket. The heavy boots I wore were a godsend, because they had at least kept my feet warm.

  “Butch caught a coupla fish,” said Wesley. “He’s gutting them now. That should make for a nice breakfast. There’s enough for everyone.”

  “I’m gettin’ more firewood, boys.”

  I opened my eyes to a greyish light that had only just begun to filter in. I had not slept more than a few hours, tossing and turning, but it would have to be enough. Micah sensed I had woken, shifting slightly, his arm tightening around me. I wanted to snuggle further into his arms, but I dared not. Sitting up, I glanced around, seeing men by the fire and others bending to pick up dried branches for firewood. Silas wasn’t on his bedroll, which startled me. Where had he gone?

  “You’re awake?” asked Micah, his voice sounding rough.

  “I smell coffee. I have to use the privy.”

  “All right.” He closed his eyes, clearly not wanting to rouse just yet.

  I got to my feet, removing the gloves and leaving them on the blanket. The shelter had offered some protection, but being open on one side, we had felt the chill of the air, and things would not warm up until the sun emerged.

  “Good morning, Miss Fossett,” said Deputy Thomas. He sat by the fire with a tin cup in his hand. “We’ve coffee, if you like.”

  “I’ll be back for it.” I hurried by, needing to find a spot of seclusion to do my business. I wandered as far as I dared, hiding behind a scraggly-looking bush and dropped my drawers. Upon my return, I edged nearer to the stream, hearing the sound of a man vomiting. “Silas?” I came upon him a moment later. “Are you unwell?”

  He wiped the back of his mouth with his sleeve. “I’m just fine and dandy, honey.” He smiled, but it looked forced. Dark smudges lay beneath his eyes.

  “You had quite a bit of whiskey last night.”

  “How kind of you to point out.”

  I did not care for his tone one bit, saying, “You should have some breakfast. You’ll feel better with food in your belly.”

  “That was the plan.” His gaze narrowed. “I saw you sleeping with Micah. You’re awfully friendly with that fellow, Saffron.”

  “I also slept near the sheriff. Will you accuse me of being awfully friendly with him too?”

  “I don’t care for Mr. Blaylock in the least. He’s rough and ordinary. You’re taken by him. I’d be careful not to let your female fancies get the better of you.” He bent to cup his hands in the water, washing his face.

  “Mr. Blaylock has shown me nothing but concern and kindness. Where you would’ve left that woman to be picked apart by the crows, he insisted we bury her. When you rushed on ahead, he stayed and walked with me, making sure I was safe. He has proven himself to be exemplary in almost every regard.”

  He snorted. “If you say so. Women are blinded by some men. Sure, he’s the epitome of a wild, mountain cowboy, but his manners are uncouth. You couldn’t bring him to supper, because he wouldn’t know the difference between a salad fork and a dinner fork.” He laughed, “The cake fork would befuddle him completely. When we’re home again, reality shall set in.”

  I bit my lip, wanting to smack him, but I held myself in check. “Silas, as much as
I’ve enjoyed your company over the last year, I’ve decided I don’t want to continue our courtship. You are right about one thing. When I return home, my reality will be drastically altered. That much is true.”

  He got to his feet, his expression questioning. “Pardon?”

  “We are no longer courting.”

  “Why not? Why on earth would you say such a thing?”

  “Because I think we’re ill-suited.”

  “I was going to ask you to marry me, you stupid woman. How can you say we’re ill-suited?”

  “I overheard some things last night. I know you’ve been intimately involved with Mrs. Clarissa Faris.”

  “When did you hear that?” His blond brows drew together. “Who on earth told you that?”

  “It came from your lips by the campfire. You were bragging about your exploits.”

  “I was drunk! I’m sure it was blather and bravado and nothing else.”

  I felt a moment of doubt, glancing into his earnest expression, but I had made up my mind and I could not change it. I knew he hadn’t lied about his encounter with the lonely widow, but he had no qualms about lying to my face now. “I’m sorry, Silas. There are other considerations that have gone into this decision. Now isn’t a good time to discuss it, but suffice it to say, I’ve ended the courtship.”

  “It’s that Micah fellow, isn’t it? He’s been filling your ears with lies, because he wants to steal you away from me.”

  “No, Silas. I’ve made up my own mind about things. I know you think females are weak on all counts, but I do have a mind. I trust my instincts, and they’re telling me we’re better off not continuing in this relationship.”

  His features twisted in rage, his pale eyes blazing. “We shall see about that.” He strode away, his posture rigid.

  I felt a moment of fear, not knowing what he would do. I followed him, hurrying to catch up, as he blustered into camp, heading towards Micah, who had just gotten up. He sat in the shelter, gazing at the scene before him. Silas stomped towards him and, without a word, grabbed him by his jacket, hauling him to his feet, but he had misjudged Mr. Blaylock’s strength, because Micah pushed him away easily, glaring at Silas.

  “What’s the meaning of this?” he demanded. “Have you lost your mind?”

  “You’ve been sweet-talking my fiancé behind my back! You good-for-nothing blackguard!” Silas threw a punch, but Micah moved quickly, guessing his intentions. “You keep away from her, you hear? She’s MY woman! She’s going to marry me!”

  Micah refused to be intimidated, lifting his chin defiantly. “Saffron will do whatever she wants.”

  Everyone stared at the spectacle. Sheriff Palmer cleared his throat. “Now, let’s not have this, Mr. Hefferman. There’s no need to go accusing folks of things.”

  “It’s the truth! This man is not to be trusted! He’s going behind my back to steal my girl.”

  My hands went to my hips. “What’s occurred is a private matter, and it has nothing to do with Mr. Blaylock.”

  “Like hell!” shouted Silas. “I’ve seen the way you look at him. If you want to marry this hardcase, then that’s your decision, but it’s a foolish one. You’re throwing away everything, Saffron. I’ve the means to provide a good home and security.” He glared at me. “I’m considered quite the catch, you know. There isn’t a woman in town who wouldn’t give her eye-teeth to be with me.”

  I groaned inwardly. “And that’s supposed to win me over?”

  “All right,” said Sheriff Palmer. “Let’s eat, so we can be on our way.”

  Micah strode towards the other side of the fire, pouring a cup of coffee. His messy, dark hair hung in his eyes, while he distrustfully glanced at Silas.

  “We need to pack up and head out,” said Deputy Thomas. They rightfully wanted to diffuse the situation, but would Silas let the subject drop or would he continue to harp on it?

  Silas, realizing he hadn’t won this round, ran fingers through his hair, casting several pleading stares in my direction. “I wish a word in private, Saffron.”

  “We’ve already said enough, haven’t we?”

  “You’ve a willful streak. I didn’t know this about you.”

  “You’d prefer a more submissive partner. I cannot change the way I am.”

  He scowled. “Perhaps, it’s best I found this out now. My mother warned me about you from the first day we met. She always thought you were far too independent.”

  “I’m sorry your family finds me lacking.” It pained me to hear those words, but they hadn’t come as a surprise. The aroma of grilled fish filled the air. “I’m going to eat. You should eat too. Put some food in that belly of yours. We’ll need our strength for the hike home.”

  “Ha! As if you cared about my welfare. You’d shoot a bear for that lover of yours, but my health really is of no consequence to you.”

  “That’s not true.” I hated arguing so publicly, wishing he would be quiet. I sat by the fire near Bryce, who gave me a plate. “Thank you.” The embarrassment of having this discussion in front of a camp full of men left me struggling to eat, feeling the weight of eyes on me. The fish became stuck in my throat.

  Micah wandered off for the moment, tending to his own business, while others began to dismantle the shelter, folding the bear pelts and securing their belongings. By the time everyone had eaten and packed, we were ready to begin the trek home, walking single file towards the trail. The body of the feral bear, glowing bright pink in the morning sun, remained on the ground, while flies buzzed around noisily.

  “With any luck, that was our bear,” said Bryce. “I hope that’s the last of the attacks.”

  “I hope so too,” I murmured. I walked with Leonard and Wesley, while Silas went up ahead with Butch. Micah and Bryce trailed, bringing up the rear. I wanted to walk with them, but because of the earlier fight at camp, I felt it better to keep my distance.

  As it grew warmer, my feet began to swim in sweat, my underarms dampening. I had removed the jacket, tying it to the pack at my back. The freshness of the air and the exercise did not exhaust me in the least, my body brimming with energy. For the first time in ages, I felt as if I could see things clearly. I had entertained doubts about Silas for a long time, but I had always pushed them aside, not wanting to think ill of him. He had shown his true colors yesterday, but, in truth, he had been doing so for a long time.

  I glanced over my shoulder at Micah, who smiled. We had wound around the edge of the mountain, following a familiar path, and, from the sounds of chatter and laughter, it seemed everyone felt as good as I did, but, perhaps, not Silas. The bear had been killed, we had eaten a hearty breakfast, and by evening we would be home again. We had accomplished our task, ridding the valley of the diseased animal that had preyed upon unsuspecting people.

  Falling further behind on purpose, I neared Bryce and Micah, who had been in conversation. “It’s a fine morning, isn’t it?”

  Micah’s gaze skimmed over my face. “It is.”

  “Do you think that’s the last of the bears?”

  Bryce shrugged. “We can only hope.”

  “There might only have been two.” Micah’s hat shaded his eyes, but I could feel their warmth, as they lingered on me. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

  “That wasn’t your fault. I broke it off with him, and he took it poorly.”

  “Indeed,” said Bryce. He hid a smile. “I’m sure Mr. Hefferman will recover from the blow.”

  I had gone to school with Bryce, having known his wife, who was now a friend, and I felt I could trust him. “Yes, by his own admission, every woman in town is eager to have him. I’m sure Mrs. Clarissa Faris will be pleased now.”

  “He’ll bounce back.” Bryce glanced at Micah. “Don’t you think?”

  “I don’t care in the least.”

  “You won’t be a free woman for long, Saffron.”

  I waited to hear how Micah would respond, but he lifted his chin then, gazing at the overhang above. Before anyone could say
another word, something flew our way, embedding in the ground by my boot. It was an arrow.

  “Indians!” shouted Bryce.

  Micah flung himself at me, while Bryce scrambled towards a tree to avoid a volley of arrows. Someone shouted up ahead, as Micah held onto me, having dragged me to safety.

  “Oh, my stars! What’s happening?”

  “Indian attack,” said Micah. “I think they’re Ute, but I can’t be sure. I don’t know why they’re—” gunfire erupted, the men having brandished their weapons, but not being able to see the enemy, they shot blindly.

  “What will we do?”

  “Stay outta sight,” said Bryce.

  A small rock came bounding towards us, followed by another, and then a thunderous sound occurred, which had the earth shaking beneath my feet. “What’s happening?” I shouted above the din.

  “Avalanche!” yelled Micah. “Get down!”

  Being on the trail, exposed to a sheer drop on one side and the mountain on the other, the only protection offered were trees, which would fall like matchsticks.

  “I’d run!” shouted Bryce. “Go the other way, now!”

  We sprang to our feet, sprinting the way we came, but the abundance of debris stopped us in our tracks. A grouping of smaller boulders had collected here, having lodged into the mountain, and we hid between the two biggest, barely fitting into the tight space. It was enough to protect us, as rocks and trees began to slide overhead, blotting out the sun. Although safe from impact, we had now been buried alive, the musty smell of dirt lingering in the air around me.