Mountain Magic

by Simmons, Trana Mae

  He could do nothing right now, though. Snowed-in mountains passes precluded any travel at all until spring. Even then, if they started out too early, a deadly avalanche could end their journey with their deaths.

  He just wished he could be sure that man following them around at rendezvous last summer, and asking questions about Caitlyn, had nothing to do with Caitlyn's past life.

  A feather light breeze caressed Jon's face and he opened his buffalo skin robe to cool the sweatiness he on his body.

  "Hurry up, spring," he murmured before he shrugged out of his robe and headed back to the cabin.

  ****

  Chapter 28

  "Damn boring this time of year, ain't it, Jon?" Silas grumbled from his seat on a log beside the woodpile.

  "Boring?" Jon split the piece of wood on the ground in front of him with a sure stroke. "Hell, there's plenty to do, if you'd help me do it. You want to winter up here next season, you're gonna need wood. And you might want to clean and oil those traps before we store them away. Otherwise, they'll rust over the summer. A half-dozen or so of them need a chain or a spring fixed, too."

  Jon leaned on his axe and wiped his forehead. Spring, long awaited, had finally made a tentative arrival.

  "Aw, I ain't real sure I want to come up here alone, boyo. Depends on what furs are goin' for this summer. Get me a good enough bank roll, I might just sit the next season out."

  "Silas, you know you're welcome to come back to Virginia with Caitlyn and me. But, whatever you decide, I want you to stand up with me at our wedding."

  "Figured you'd want your brother to do that," Silas said gruffly, but Jon caught the hint of pleasure in his voice.

  "A fellow's best man should be his best friend, Silas," Jon said with a smile at the old man. "And I'm not waiting until we get back to Virginia to get married. The first minister we can find is going to get the privilege of marrying Caitlyn and me."

  "'Fraid she might change her mind?" Silas asked with a chuckle.

  Jon winked at his partner, a broad grin on his face. "I'm not about to give her the chance."

  "I wish you both the best, you know that, don't you, boyo? And I know you'll take care of Cat. Ol' Mad Mick, he'd've liked you, Jon."

  "I appreciate hearing that, Silas. And you can damned well bet every fur you trapped this winter that Caitlyn will never want for anything that it's within my power to give her."

  Silas slapped his knees and stood, though Jon saw a grimace of slight pain in his partner's narrowed eyes. He and Caitlyn had discussed the joint aches that had plagued Silas more and more over the winter, and both of them had tried to do the bulk of the labor when they ran lines with Silas. Once in awhile they had even received his agreement to stay behind and care for Little Sun, while they checked the lines themselves.

  Not that the effort paid off real well in the late winter months. The animals that weren't hibernating carried coats that showed signs of wear and the lack of winter forage. Still, the trips kept cabin fever at bay and, more importantly, kept them from getting on each other's nerves.

  "Think I'll take my old pony out for some exercise," Silas mused. "Reckon Little Sun might like to go along?"

  "I reckon he might, Silas. He sure does like to ride."

  "Yeah, he does, doesn't he? I'll see you after while. Those there traps ain't gonna go nowhere. They'll wait 'til I get ready to work on them."

  Jon gestured Silas off and picked up his axe. A few minutes later, as he stacked slabs of newly-cut logs onto the growing woodpile, he saw Silas riding out of the clearing, with Little Sun perched on the saddle in front of him. Dog trotted at the horse's heels. Jon returned Silas's wave before he rolled another log into place for splitting.

  The sun climbed high while Jon worked, and once he stopped long enough to tie his hair back with a leather thong he carried in his pocket. Finally he even removed his shirt, his exertions keeping him well warm enough, since the temperature rose with the sun's course. It would drop drastically as evening approached, but for now he enjoyed the heat.

  Now and then a layer of snow slipped from a pine bough and plopped to the ground with a soft whoosh, and rivulets of water dripped over the cabin eaves from the snow melting on the roof. Dozens of birds hopped and twittered in the trees, and a black-capped chickadee flew back and forth from the trees to a bush by the cabin. Earlier, Caitlyn had draped the strands of hair she had saved over the winter on the bush. Each time the chickadee left, it carried a beak full of hair to thread into its new nest.

  As Caitlyn emerged from the cabin, Jon's grumbling stomach reminded him that noon had come and gone.

  "Hi," he said as she approached. "Saw my naked body from the window and couldn't keep your hands to yourself, huh?"

  "Huh, to you," Caitlyn retorted. "I was watching the chickadee from the window and came out for a closer look."

  "Little liar." Jon's grin grew wider when a hint of pink stole over Caitlyn's cheeks.

  "Well, your naked body is working awfully close to that chickadee," she admitted. After returning his light kiss, she wrinkled her nose. "You need a bath, Jon."

  "Think I could have something to eat first? I'll eat out here, if I'm too stinking to sit at the table."

  When Caitlyn ignored his teasing jibe, he turned to follow her gaze toward the trail Silas had ridden down. "Something wrong, sweetheart?"

  "I've had the stew ready for over half an hour, Jon. Silas said he'd be back in time to eat."

  "Probably forgot the time. You know how he enjoys taking Little Sun out to show him the mountains and animals."

  "Maybe."

  "You want me to go look for him?"

  "Would you?" The face she tilted up to him showed Caitlyn's concern. "I'll fix you a slice of meat and bread to eat while you ride. Probably I'm just being a fussbudget, but Paw and I always kept our promises to each other when we were supposed to meet somewhere. If one or the other of us was late, it meant something had happened."

  Jon swung his axe blade into a log and reached for his shirt. After he pulled it on, he kissed Caitlyn and shoved her toward the cabin.

  "Go fix me that food," he said, "while I saddle up. And don't worry, all right? Silas could've sent Dog back for us if they'd run into a problem."

  Despite Jon's request, Caitlyn worried. She worried while she sliced the left-over venison roast and layered it with bread to give to Jon. And she worried long after Jon rode out of the clearing, down the trail Silas had taken.

  She couldn't put a finger on her uneasiness on this beautiful, spring day. Still, she paced into the cabin, covered the roast again and moved the stew to the side of the coals to stay warm. Then paced back outside, eyes trained on the trail into the surrounding wilderness.

  It couldn't be only Silas's lateness — the old mountain man could take care of himself, and he'd probably snort his displeasure over her concern when he returned. She hoped he would.

  And she surely needn't worry over Silas caring for Little Sun. Silas would sooner die than allow Little Sun to even prick his finger on a briar.

  The minutes passed into an hour and her concern leaned toward anger. Darn it, even Jon should have been back by now. What the blue blazes were they doing out there — watching the snow melt? Or an eagle build its nest? Shoot, she hadn't even seen an eagle yet this spring.

  Caitlyn headed for the corral, calling her pinto to her as she walked. The horse met her at the fence, and she slipped between the rails and retrieved her bridle from the small shed that had sheltered the horses during the winter. With a reluctant sigh, she went back for her saddle. Jon had left the second rifle with her, and it would be easier to carry in the saddle scabbard.

  She led the pinto through the gate and over to the cabin. Dropping the reins to ground tie the horse, she went in after the rifle. After reemerging from the cabin and dropping the bar into place across the door, she turned and gasped in terror.

  Tall Man sat motionless on his horse, in the same spot where she had last seen him last fa
ll. Even across the distance separating them, she could feel the hostility radiating from the Indian's narrowed eyes. Tall Man's horse shook its head, and started walking toward the cabin.

  Caitlyn fanatically stared at her pinto, then took a step toward it. Tall Man's knife landed in the ground in front of her feet, and Caitlyn swung around, bringing the rifle to her shoulder.

  "You will not find the boy if you kill me," Tall Man snarled before she could steady the heavy gun.

  The rifle fell from her nerveless hands. "Little Sun," she choked out. "Damn you, Tall Man! What have you done to him?"

  "Nothing...yet," he replied, the menace of looming possibilities in his voice. "But no one will find him if I do not return for him. Or maybe the animals will find him first."

  "Take me to him!"

  "Yes," Tall Man hissed. "Yes, I do choose to take you to him. What happens after that will also be my choice. Give the rifle to me and get on your horse."

  Caitlyn picked up the rifle and handed it to him, then ran to the pinto and lunged into the saddle. She lifted her reins, but Tall Man shook his head at her.

  "No. I do not worry that you will try to run away from me — not until at least after I take you to the boy. But you will go as my prisoner."

  He kneed his horse closer and pulled a rope from his belt. Leaning over, he bound Caitlyn's hands tightly to her saddlehorn. She grimaced in pain, but he only knotted the rope another loop.

  Grabbing the pinto's reins, Tall Man led off across the clearing.

  "Silas," Caitlyn called to him. "What happened to Silas and J...Jon?"

  Tall Man tossed one deadly glance over his shoulder and continued riding.

  ****

  "Silas! Damn it, man, don't you give up on me now!"

  Jon pulled Silas's slumped body closer against his chest. Blood had already soaked through the bandage over Silas's wound, saturating Jon's buckskin sleeve.

  "T...told you to...leave me there," Silas whispered, his head falling forward again. "Go...after the...boy."

  "I did," Jon gritted. "I couldn't find the trail. He must have left his horse somewhere while he followed you, then attacked you and grabbed Little Sun. I'm not a damned Indian, Silas. I can't trail a man who doesn't leave a track!"

  "G...gotta...find him."

  "I will. Soon as I get you back for Caitlyn to take care of. And if he's harmed one hair on that boy's head, I'll kill him so slowly that he'll have plenty of time to think about what he did."

  Silas lapsed into unconsciousness, and Jon fought the urge to kick his horse into a faster gait. The jarring would make the blood flow even faster from Silas's shoulder wound, and the old man had already lost way too much blood.

  Caitlyn would be frantic. He hoped like hell she had sense enough to wait at the cabin and not come out looking for them herself. He had no idea where that damned Indian had gone — Tall Man had proven he could stay nearly invisible in the wilderness when he took Silas unaware. Nobody was better in the mountains than Silas — except a damned Indian.

  Somehow Tall Man got by Dog, too. At least, Jon hadn't found the animal, though he had discovered a spot of blood on the trail — right at the point where Silas had left their usually travelled path to take Little Sun down to the beaver pond to see if the beaver kits were out playing yet.

  Jon heard a sound behind him and jerked his horse around in the trail. Even in his unconscious state, Silas groaned, and Jon dropped his reins to pull his knife from his belt. Silas's horse trotted out of the underbrush.

  "Goddamn it, horse," Jon snarled. "You almost got your throat cut!"

  The horse halted, and Jon saw Silas's rifle still in the scabbard, the long rifle almost the length of the horse.

  "Shit, Silas," he muttered to the unconscious man. "So that's how Tall Man got you. How many times have you told me that one little stupid mistake can get you hurt in the mountains? You probably carried Little Sun to the pond, instead of your rifle."

  Jon replaced his knife and grabbed the other horse's trailing reins, tying them to his saddlehorn before he turned back up the trail. A few minutes later, he rode into the clearing by the cabin.

  "Caitlyn!" he called before noticing the bar across the cabin door. Heart starting to pound with tension, he swung his eyes to the corral. Her pinto was gone, and something told him it wasn't inside the shed.

  Caitlyn! Oh, God, Caitlyn. No!

  Jon unlooped the reins of Silas's horse from his saddlehorn and reached over to pull the rifle free. Silas's horse trotted across the clearing toward the corral, and Jon carefully watched for any other signs of movement. Everything remained silent — too silent.

  He had to get Silas into the cabin. The old man's breathing grew shallower by the minute. But, God, he had to find Caitlyn and Little Sun, too.

  Jon scanned the ground in the clearing and saw a trail of hoofprints that hadn't been there when he left earlier. With a suppressed groan for his aching arm, he pulled Silas up high enough to lay the rifle across the saddle in front of him and picked up his reins.

  He reined his horse over to the hoofprints. Caitlyn rode her pinto unshod, but she kept her pony's hoofs neatly trimmed. The horse that made the other set of prints, which travelled toward the cabin and back again, had a nick in one hind hoof.

  The trail told its own story. She had left with someone — or been forced to go.

  Thoughts scrambled with fear and frustration, Jon got Silas into the cabin and his wound rebandaged. If Tall Man's knife had penetrated an inch to the right, he'd have been preparing Silas for burial, rather than trying to save his life. And he wasn't at all sure Silas would be alive when he returned. The old man never woke while Jon worked.

  He managed to pour part of a cup of water down Silas's throat before the old man choked. He left the bucket and some food on a chair by the bunk — he couldn't do any more. He had to go after Caitlyn and Little Sun.

  At the cabin door, Jon grabbed the door jamb on each side of him and squeezed until splinters pierced his palms as he stared out across the clearing. He bowed his head for a brief second, then glanced back over his shoulder at Silas.

  Tall Man had planned it well by getting rid of both Dog and Silas. Jon's own tracking skills fell far short of Silas's, though he had learned a few things from the old mountain man. He straightened his shoulders and grabbed the rifle beside the door, closing the door behind him without another glance at Silas.

  He led his horse into the corral. It was already tired from the double load it had carried back to the cabin. Silas's fresher pony would be better in the mountains anyway. He shoved the long rifle into the scabbard and swung into the saddle.

  The deadly snow clouds started gathering before he had ridden a mile from the cabin. Jesus, could that goddamned Indian even predict the weather? Jon rode on relentlessly. The horses he followed galloped, but he had to follow more slowly while picking out their trail.

  The temperature began dropping as the snowflakes feathered down. Jon cursed his foolishness in not grabbing his buffalo-skin robe before he left. But he damned sure wasn't going back for it now.

  A rider rode out from between two pines trees ahead of Jon and blocked the trail. Silas's horse reared in shock at the unexpected obstacle, but Jon was already sliding from the horse's back, the rifle in his hand.

  1

  Chapter 29

  Drawn by Little Sun's weak sobs, Caitlyn raced across the cave floor, stumbling and falling in the darkness. She shoved herself to her feet, ignoring the stabbing pains in her palms and knees.

  Finding Little Sun at last, she sat down and gathered him into her arms. He flinched away at first, then threw his arms around her neck when she murmured his name.

  "Cat," the tiny boy sobbed. "Man. Bad man."

  "Shush, darling," Caitlyn soothed. "Cat's here now. It's all right."

  She tried to rise with him in her arms, but Little Sun choked and grabbed his throat. Caitlyn ran her hands over him. Feeling the rope tied around the small neck, she turned
a furious gaze on Tall Man when she heard him strike a flint across the cave.

  "You bastard!" she spat. "You tied him up like a dog!"

  A flame flickered in the fire Tall Man had laid before he left the cave, outlining his lethal face.

  "You would rather I left him to run away and die in the snow? I had no wish to go looking for him again, and his usefullness to me is not finished yet."

  Caitlyn started to untie the rope, but Tall Man's sharp voice stilled her fingers.

  "No! He stays on the rope until we leave!"

  Little Sun began crying in earnest, tugging at the rope, and Tall Man snarled, "Shut him up! Now!"

  Caitlyn gathered Little Sun onto her lap and moved closer to the wall, so the rope wouldn't strain the boy's neck. She rubbed his small back with one hand, while her other hand, hidden in the darkness, felt along the rope to determine how it had been tied. It looped through a crack in the rocks, emerging again lower down, where it had been knotted — knotted much too tightly to work loose with the fingers of one hand.

  "He needs some food," she said to Tall Man as Little Sun snuggled against her breasts, his sobs quieting.

  "I do not feed my enemies!"

  "He's just a little boy...."

  "He is my enemy's son!"

  Tall Man rose to his feet, his eyes glittering hatred and his lips drawn back. Caitlyn shrank against the unyielding wall behind her.

  "You will only have warmth in here because I have need of it myself," Tall Man continued in a vicious voice. "I do not give comfort to my enemies, either. And you have chosen the side of my enemy. You only live because I have bargained to bring you to the man who paid for you alive."

  "Who?" she whispered. "Why?"

  "I did not ask his reason, and I do not know if the name he gave me was truth or a lie. You can ask him your questions. He waits not far from here."

  Tall Man squatted again by the fire and pulled some jerky from the rawhide bag on his belt. He ate slowly, tearing off chunks and chewing them completely before he swallowed. Caitlyn huddled against the cold wall, watching every move the Indian made as her mind frantically sought a way to escape.