Girl in Falling Snow

by F. M. Parker

  “Please tell me more of how I came to be here,” Alice said. “Tell me all if it. How long have I been here?”

  Paul spoke. “Since yesterday evening just before dark. I was cutting ice on the river when I caught your glove with the ice hook. We pulled you out of the river and carried you to the house and thawed you out. Mother knew what to do. She’s the one who really saved you.”

  Alice squeezed Heather’s hands that still held hers. She liked the woman from the first sight of her, the gentle eyes and caring expression. The proud way Heather looked at her son almost made Alice smile. Still holding Heather’s hand, Alice held her other hand out to Paul who seized it gladly.

  “I owe both of you my life. I don’t know how I can ever repay.”

  “You can tell us your story,” Heather said. “How you came to be on the river, all of it. But that can wait until later. For now, are you hungry?

  “I’m starved. Almost drowning turns out to be good for the appetite.”

  “Do you feel well enough to get up and eat or should I fix you a plate of food and bring it in here?”

  “I’m ready to get up to eat

  “Good. You’re clothes are ready for you.” Heather nodded at the garments freshly laundered and neatly folded on the foot of the cot. She gestured at the small bedside table holding Alice’s poem book and her father’s watch. “We dried your little book with its rhymes and the picture. Paul took the back off the watch and dried it. It seems to be running just fine.”

  “Thank you very much for all of them means a lot to me.”

  “You’re very welcome,” Heather said with a smile. She turned to Paul. “Tend to the food on the stove while I help Alice dress.”

  “Yes, mom.” Paul gave Alice a quick look and strode off toward the kitchen. Brutus trailed behind with his hard claws tapping upon the wooden floor

  Alice swung her legs out from under the blankets and sat on the edge of the bed. She began to shake from weakness and she felt lightheaded. “I guess I’m not as strong as I thought.”

  “You have good reason to be.” Heather sat down beside Alice and put an arm around her and held her. “Just take it slow and easy. I can still bring you a plate.”

  “No. I want to get up to prove to myself that I’m really alive. Just help me a little.”

  Alice felt her strength returning as she donned the garments, aided by Heather. She walked slowly, but unaided to the kitchen. Heather guided Alice to the table and she seated herself.

  “It’s wonderful to have you here, and I hope you will stay a long time with us. Now you just rest while I finish breakfast for all of us.”

  “Thank you.” Alice felt at ease, even secure in the friendly company of Heather and the stalwart Paul.

  Heather brought a jar from a pantry and placed it on the table and then hot food from the stove. “Let’s all eat,” she said in a cheery voice.

  Alice helped herself to a large portion of fried steak, boiled potatoes and cabbage and freshly baked biscuits. She poured a tall glass full of milk.

  Heather handed her a pitcher of amber fluid. “Pour some sun nectar over your biscuits,” she said.

  “Sun nectar?” Alice said.

  “Yes, nectar made by the sun and flowers and wild bees.”

  “Oh, that’d be honey.”

  “That’s right. A liquid suited for the gods.”

  “I think so too,” Alice replied.

  She split a biscuit and poured a liberal measure of honey upon it and began to eat. From time to time, she looked at Paul and Heather and found they were observing her as she was them. Their presence and gentle expressions made the world feel safe, for the moment.

  Heather noted the obvious pleasure the girl had from the food and was pleased. She would try to persuade Alice to remain with them instead of going north into Canada. She pictured the three of them on a sleigh ride behind the horse, or fishing on the ice, or having a picnic in the springtime warmth, and all laughing and talking together. And then there was the matter of finding Paul a suitable wife when the time was right. She smiled at the possibilities the girl had brought.

  Heather’s contemplation of the future was banished by a series of loud, imperative knocks sounding on the kitchen door leading to the front yard.

  “Now who could that be so early in the morning?” Heather said as she glanced at Alice and then at Paul. She rose to her feet and went to the door and opened it.

  Alice, looking past Heather, gasped and shrank back for she saw Oscar Taggert standing on the stoop. She recognized him from Bemiji when Cole chose her from among the other girls. Her worst fears had come to be. She felt the thudding of her frightened heart to the tips of her fingers.

  “How can I help you?” Heather asked and closely observing the big man dressed in heavy winter clothing and with a pack on his back and a holster with a pistol strapped to his side.

  “I’m Oscar Taggert the county sheriff. You probably heard my name during the last election.”

  “I’ve heard your name. What can I do for you?”

  “I’m searching for a blond haired girl of thirteen or fourteen with the name of Alice Childs. I was told that she came down river from the bridge. Have you seen her?”

  Oscar looked past Heather and into the kitchen. “Well, hell now. I see that very person.” He shoved past Heather and came into the room and up to the table close to Alice.

  “The chase is over, girl,” Oscar said with hard satisfaction. “You gave me a good run, but it’s over.”

  Alice broke from the shock at seeing the sheriff and jumped to her feet, ready to flee. She swept a look around. She was trapped within the house. Only Heather and Paul could save her now. But how could they? Would they try?

  Oscar saw the panic in Alice. “The running is over. You’re going back to Bemiji with me.”

  Heather stepped between Oscar and Alice. “What has she done that you’d chase her from Bemiji?”

  “Just murder, that’s all,” Oscar replied in a harsh voice. “She killed a man.”

  “Murder?” Heather turned and fastened disbelieving, questioning eyes on Alice.

  “I fought to save my life,” Alice said strongly. “It was his brother Cole. I was one of the girls that got off the train in Bemiji. Cole and his wife Matty took me in. He caught me in the barn and tried to rape me. I knew he would kill me.”

  “That’s self defense,” Paul said and fear for Alice building.

  “She can tell all of that to the judge when I get her back to Bemiji. Get you coat on, girl, and let’s go. We’ve got a long trip ahead of us.”

  “She’s too weak to walk to Bemiji,” Heather objected. “And I didn’t see that you had a car.”

  “She won’t have to. I’ll stop at the first farm house with a car and have somebody drive us to Bemiji.”

  “Heather, he’s going to kill me.” Alice cried out in a stricken voice and fastened pleading eyes on the woman. “Please don’t let him take me. I fought to save my life, Heather, and that’s the truth.”

  “She has nothing to say about you coming with me,” Oscar said roughly. He raised a hand as if to strike Alice. “Move, damn you.”

  “You can’t take her,” Paul said and moved to stand beside Alice. “Mother and I’ll bring her to Bemiji ourselves.”

  Oscar eyes narrowed and he put a hand on the butt of his pistol. “What’s that? I can’t take her?”

  Heather saw the flat, deadly expression in the sheriff’s eyes and the movement of his hand to the pistol. She feared for Paul and hastily moved to his side and caught him by the arm. “Paul, he’s the sheriff and has the authority to arrest Alice and take her back for trial.”

  “Alice is afraid of him. Maybe she’s right, that he plans to kill her. We would keep our word and bring her to Bemiji.”

  “Yes we would,” Heather agreed and speaking to Oscar. “Let us do that.”

  “That’s not the way it’s going to be. Are you two trying to stop me from making an arrest?”
>
  Heather felt Paul’s muscles grow taut and she gripped his arm tightly. “Certainly not,” she said to Oscar. “You’re the sheriff and we trust you to do what‘s right.”

  “You’re a wise woman,” Oscar said.

  Heather spoke to Alice. “Put on all your clothes for it’s terribly cold outside.”

  “No! No! Please don’t make me go with him!” Alice cried out. Why didn’t they believe that she was telling the truth?

  “Just do it,” Heather said in a flat, emotionless voice.

  Paul stared disbelievingly at his mother. “But, we would…”

  “The sheriff is only doing his sworn duty,” Heather interrupted in a tone that told Paul to be silent. She motioned impatiently to Alice. “Go get your clothes and put them on here in the kitchen.”

  Alice stifled a sob and straightened to full height. She had expected help from Heather and Paul. That help had been withheld. She was once again all alone, as she had been for many long months. She went to her bed and brought her outerwear into the kitchen and dressed. She felt the weight of the knife in the coat pocket. That sharp blade was the only thing that might yet save her life. She would wait for the sheriff to be off guard and she would stab him. The odds were long against her succeeding in killing the big man before he killed her. She knew that was what he intended.

  She lifted her eyes to Paul, pleading silently for his help. He stared back, his eyes half closed and hiding what he was thinking

  “Go on,” Oscar told Alice and gestured for her to walk ahead of him. He gave Paul a hard look, and then spoke to Heather. “She’ll be all right. The judge will give her a fair hearing.”

  Oscar shoved Alice to the kitchen door and into the yard. Paul followed. Heather reached the doorway first and there spread her arms and caught hold of the facing of the door on both sides.

  “No, Paul” she said fiercely. “No!”

  Paul, with his superior strength, could have broken his mother’s hold on the door frame and lifted her aside. However he obeyed her and silently watched the sheriff take Alice by the shoulder and draw her along with him. Man and girl left the yard and entered the lane and shortly entered the woods and out of sight.

  “They’re gone,” Heather said and turned to Paul.

  “Now I must catch them and take her away from him,” he said as he swiftly drew on his coat. He grabbed up his cap.

  “He’ll kill you. Didn’t you see his pistol? He could shoot you and never be punished.”

  “I saw the pistol and that’s why I didn’t do anything to stop him from taking Alice. I don’t trust him. I believe what she said, that she’ll never reach Bemiji alive.”

  “Paul, you’re all that I’ve got. If something happens to you, I’d die.”

  “Mom, I’ve got to bring her back to us,” Paul said. He felt that Alice belong to him after he had saved her from drowning and watching her through the night? Any man who would not fight for his woman was no man at all.

  “Yes, you must go after them and bring her back,” Heather said, relenting for she saw the man in her son. He would from now on do as he thought best.

  “You knew this all the time?”

  “I was afraid it was so. Hurry and get ready.”

  Paul went to the gun rack where he kept his rifle and the cartridge belt with its loops full and took them down. He loaded the magazine of the weapon and levered a cartridge into the firing chamber.

  Brutus had seen the rifle and knew a hunt was coming. Wagging his tail with anticipation, he came and stood beside Paul.

  “I’ll cut through the woods and get ahead of them, and then wait for them to come along the road.”

  “Don’t give him a chance to fight you for he’s trained to use guns and will kill you.”

  Paul nodded. He would kill the sheriff as if he was one of the devil wolverines that robbed his traps and destroyed his prize of furs for no reason except pure evil. This time the prize was Alice.

  Paul, with Brutus at his side, left the house and sprinted away across the yard and into the forest.

  *

  “That’ll do” Oscar said and surveying the treeless area of some half acre lying adjacent to the road. “Come along, girl, for we haven’t much time.” Pulling Alice along with him by the arm, he led her to the center of the cleared area.

  “Sit down,” he ordered.

  “In the snow? It’s too cold.” Alice was shivering and felt faint from weakness.

  “Sit I say” Oscar growled and put his hands on Alice’s shoulders and shoved her down roughly onto the snow.

  From a coat pocket, he extracted a strong cord. Working swiftly, he tied Alice’s ankles together and then her hands, wrist over wrist.

  “Now you wait for me here until I get back,” Oscar said with a laugh. “I’ve got something to do.”

  He strode away across the clearing and into the woods.

  Hope surged in Alice as Oscar disappeared among the trees. This was her chance to escape. She brought her tied hands around to reach the knife buried in her right coat pocket. She sat on the long tail of the coat and the pocket was under her hip. She hoisted herself up on an elbow and slid her rump to the side and reached for the pocket. Her fingers pushed the flap of the pocket aside and slid inside and found the knife. Hurriedly she pulled the knife from it sheath and brought it out and twisted to the front and began to saw frantically on the cord binding her feet. Hurry, cut your feet free and run.

  *

  Big flakes of snow were falling as Paul cautiously approached the road visible but a short distance ahead through the trees. At the edge of the woods, he looked both ways along the road. Nobody was in sight. Holding his rifle ready, he went out onto the road and checked for tracks. No tracks showed of Alice and the sheriff heading south. The two must be back along the road between him and the lane to the farm. Paul reentered the woods, and with Brutus close by his side, stole along the road.

  He caught sight of movement through the trees. A few steps more and he recognized Alice sitting in the snow in a clearing. She was leaning forward over her feet and her arms were moving.

  Paul scanned the woods for sight of the sheriff. He saw no sign of the man. Somehow Alice had escaped her captor. Why was she sitting in the snow? Was she injured and could not walk?

  Paul dashed into the clearing to Alice and dropped to his knees beside her. “I’ve come to get you,” he said. Then he saw Alice’s knife and the cords binding her hands and legs. His blood chilled. Oh, damn fool! The sheriff had set a trap for him using Alice for bait. He leapt to his feet and whirled to look for Taggert.

  “Don’t move!” the sheriff’s voice was hard, and pleased.

  Paul looked over his shoulder. The sheriff had come out of the woods and into the clearing. He held his pistol aimed at Paul.

  “I knew you’d be coming for I saw it in your eyes.” The sheriff laughed heartily. “You were easy to catch.”

  “I was stupid,” Paul said. Because of that stupidity, Alice was going to die. And so would Paul .He slid a finger closer to the trigger of his rifle. If the sheriff as much as blinked, Paul would use that time to try to shoot him.

  “Hold it, damn you!” Oscar laughter had ceased abruptly. “Now get your hand away from that trigger.”

  Paul lowered his hand to hang beside his leg and near Brutus’s head, and the dog’s watchful eyes. Brutus sensed Paul’s hate of the man with the gun and accepted it as his own hate. Paul flattened his hand and bit by bit pointed it at the sheriff. Brutus saw the signal and every muscle and tendon of his body tightened. He drew himself together, coiling for the attack. He but waited for Paul’s signal to release him.

  Paul thrust his hand at the sheriff. “HUNT!” he commanded Brutus.

  Brutus hurled his lean, muscular body toward the sheriff, devouring the distance between them with huge bounds.

  Paul hurled himself to the side and down. As he rolled in the snow, he aimed his rifle and fired at the sheriff.

  For a tiny fractio
n of time, the sheriff was surprised by the young man launching an attack directly into the open bore of his pistol. Then swiftly he fired. The bullet struck Paul on the side and tore flesh as it skittered over his ribs. The punch of the bullet knocked his breath from him with an explosion of air.

  Oscar heard Paul’s rifle bullet pass by his ear with a hiss and suck of air as he swung his pistol to aim at the wolfhound charging upon him. The beast was a fearsome sight with its rippling muscles, its jaws opened wide and the lips drawn back to expose its terrible white fangs.

  The dog made a great, last leap. Oscar fired into the dog’s chest as it crashed into him. He was knocked backward off his feet by Brutus hurtling body and fell upon the snow covered ground. The dog landed on top of him.

  Brutus shuddered at the shock and the pain from his bullet shattered chest and burst lungs. Still he was driven by the will to obey Paul’s command to kill the enemy and he struck at the man’s soft, vital throat. He closed his mighty jaws and ripped away a mouthful of flesh and gullet and throbbing jugular. Brutus collapsed upon his enemy.

  Oscar raised a hand to the gaping wound beneath his chin and felt the rhythmic pulse of warm blood spurting from his severed jugular. The dog had killed him. Never had he foreseen that he would be the one to die and not the girl. He tried to shove the dog off him but could not for his strength was fading swiftly. He stared upward into the falling snow flakes. His mind repeated the awful reality; the Goddamned dog had killed him. The quivering flesh of the dying man and dying dog joined in a last spasm of fleeing life.

  “Paul, are you hurt bad?” Alice cried out.

  “My ribs sure ache.” Paul replied as he rose from the snow. “But I’m still alive. Let’s get you cut loose.” He took Alice’s knife from her and finished cutting the cords that bound her.

  He opened his coat and shirt and examined his wound. Blood flowed from the raw edges of torn flesh. Not too bad. His mother could sew the wound closed and apply a poultice. He buttoned his clothing and rose and went to Brutus lying on top of the sheriff. Both lay stock-still. He checked the bodies for life and found none existed. Grieving, he ran his hand gently over Brutus’s head. The dog had been a constant part of his life for many years.