by Lawna Mackie
When the trapper stood back up, she pulled off her bonnet and smiled. “If you don’t mind waiting for a few moments, I’ll be right out.”
He nodded. “Do what you need to.”
Samuel scanned the tidy room. It was fully equipped with all the necessary amenities, his eyes focused on the fireplace and the wood stove. Standing at the door made him feel awkward. Hell, she made him feel awkward.
When he first came in he’d walked across the floor straight to the boys bedroom, boots and all. Now he undid his boots leaving them at the door before walking across to the hearth. On the mantel in a silver frame was a photo of a happy family. Amanda, the boy Quinn, and a man stood in front of a large two-story house. Sadness spread over him. It was a unique house, not one he’d forget. It was the same house captured on the wall of the Town Hall…the memorial wall, displaying houses destroyed by the flood.
That explained why she was alone. Her husband must have perished in the flood. He shook his head, gripped by the sorrow so many people had been forced to endure.
Slim pieces of kindling lay off to the side of the hearth and Samuel began constructing the tinder into the makings of a fire. He struck the match and flames danced over the wood kindling. Soon the fire crackled to life. After lighting a few more lanterns, he proceeded to the wood stove in the kitchen where he lifted the heavy cast iron lid and started another fire.
She hadn’t returned from the room yet, so he removed his heavy jacket and placed it on the coat rack beside the door.
No sooner had he done so when the boy’s bedroom door opened and she appeared, gently shutting it as quietly as possible. She looked toward the burning fire and the crackles coming from her wood-cook stove.
“I don’t know how to thank you, Mr. Campton.” She smiled, once again fiddling with her apron.
“Please, it’s Samuel.” He smiled back.
“Could I offer you some coffee or perhaps a cup of tea?” she queried.
He’d hoped she would ask. It had been long time since he had the chance to be in the company of such a striking woman. Amanda wasn’t just beautiful and genuine, but also caring.
“A cup of coffee would be mighty fine,” he answered.
“Great.” She turned her back to him and proceeded to make coffee, placing the pot on the stove.
“Have a seat Mr…umm, Samuel.” She motioned to the sitting room.
“Thank you. Did you get your boy settled?”
“Yes,” she answered, letting out a deep breath. “He should sleep through the night.”
“I may be stepping over the boundaries, Ma’am, but what is wrong with him?”
She followed him into the sitting room, taking a chair beside him. “Now it’s my turn. Please call me Amanda.”
He nodded in response.
“Quinn has been to a few medical doctors, but none of them have been able to say for certain what the problem is. For the most part, he has seizures. Medication may help, but I’ve been avoiding that option.”
“How long has this been taking place?” Samuel asked softly.
Amanda looked over at the family photo on the mantel. He could see her swallow hard before she answered. “They began not long after the flood…and my husband’s death.”
He reached over and placed his hand on hers. The brief contact of her flesh against his caused him to hesitate before he could speak. His heart thumped and a flush of heat washed over him. He’d been alone too long.
“I’m sorry, Amanda. I don’t know my manners. I shouldn’t be asking you these questions.”
He removed his hand and her gaze sought his. “I appreciate the company, Samuel, and I do find that talking about it helps.” She got up and wandered to the cupboard and removed two cups for the coffee.
Samuel got up and placed more wood on the fire, while Amanda set the cups and saucers on the serving table.
“I haven’t seen you in town before, but Mrs. Smith said she encountered you in the Town Hall on a few occasions. How long have you been in Bandit Creek?”
He returned to his seat. “Since last spring.”
“You’ve been here that long, but yet nobody has seen you other than Betty Smith?”
“I don’t come into town often. I make trips into Missoula more frequently than visiting Bandit Creek.”
“That’s a long journey.” She smiled, tucking a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear.
“Odd town this Bandit Creek.” He shook his head and taking a sip of the coffee.
“The flood caused all that,” Amanda replied weakly.
“Sorry, this is a depressing subject, isn’t it?”
“My fault. I’m not being a very good hostess and your personal business isn’t my affair.”
Samuel laughed loudly. “I certainly appreciate your hospitality and your company. Furthermore, there is nothing much about my personal affairs you would find interesting.” He took another sip of the coffee and continued. “I boarded a ship from Alaska over a year ago and made my way to Seattle. Got tired of the cold, but still wanted the gold. I heard Bandit Creek was the hot spot…so here I am. That was all before the flood.”
“Alaska! That is quite a distance.”
“I’ve almost finished the construction of my cabin. It’s to the far west of Crow Mountain.”
“You must like seclusion.”
“I do like my privacy, but it is also close to my claim and the trap line.”
“I see,” Amanda responded.
A fellow could get lost in her baby blue eyes. He stood.
“Miss Amanda I thank you for your company and the coffee, but I should be on my way.”
“Oh.” She paused, but continued in a rush. “Perhaps I’ll see you in town sometime.”
His mind was jumping to conclusions. Did she want to see him in town sometime?
“Mr. Murphy did offer you a free meal and I am a very good cook, if I might say so.” She smiled with encouragement.
“Yes, he did, didn’t he?”
He walked to the door. Amanda spun to grab his jacket and as she did so managed to run into him. Her hands splayed across his chest while she tried to regain her balance. He found his arm wound around her slim waist. Her cornflower blue eyes locked with his. He could feel her heart beating almost as fast as his own. He stared at her ruby red lips, fighting the temptation he’d buried since the first moment he spotted her on the steps of the boarding house. No longer aware of what he was doing, he bent his head and sought the heaven he knew he’d find. His lips touched hers, sending shockwaves of passion through his body. He felt her body lean into his as she kissed him back.
With all the strength he could muster, he ended the kiss and stepped back. Slowly, her eyes opened and her cheeks turned crimson.
She spun away from him. “Oh, God forgive me! I don’t know what came over me.”
Samuel gently turned her toward him once again. “This was my doing, not yours.” She stood speechless staring at him and he knew he had to get out or risk taking things further. Somehow, he could think of no words to say.
She handed him his jacket and he opened the door. A gust of wind and swirling snow rushed in. Samuel motioned to the small stack of firewood. “You need more wood, Amanda.”
“Yes, I suppose I do.” She nodded, pulling the door closed behind her while she stood on the porch. “Mr. Murphy is usually very good a stocking my supply, but I just haven’t wanted to bother him.”
Samuel reached behind her and pushed the door back open. “You’ll catch your death of a cold. In you go. I’ll be back with wood for you tomorrow. No need to ask Mr. Murphy.”
“Samuel, I really couldn’t impose on you in that way,” she protested.
“I wasn’t asking. Get in the house now.”
Before she could argue further, he marched down the steps and into the storm, heading down the street.
He stopped and turned to look back at her house. She stood in the window, staring back at him. He knew one thing for certain. He
wanted her.
He’d stay at the boarding house tonight, he thought with a smile, already anticipating seeing her tomorrow. He tipped his head down and continued on his way when he heard the howl. Stopping dead in his tracks, he lifted his head. He’d heard that howl before. Straining to see in the blowing snow, a pair of red and gold eyes became visible. The wolf quickly disappeared out of sight.
“I’ll be damned,” he said out loud. Why the hell was the wolf creature still following him? Instead of continuing to the Murphy’s Boarding house, Samuel turned in the direction of the saloon. He’d have time to grab a drink then head off to bed. It had been quite a day.
He rounded the corner and found himself face to face with a bumbling drunk.
“Sorry, mister,” Samuel stated, looking around the man to see if he could see the wolf.
“Jack’s the name,” he mumbled, taking a swig straight from the bottle.
Samuel backed up, not sure if the man was going to fall over or not.
“Samuel,” he said but didn’t extend his hand.
“The moon tells the secrets,” Jack slurred.
“Excuse me…Jack, it was nice meeting you.”
The man stepped in front of Samuel’s path. This just happened to be another reason why Samuel hated coming into town.
Jack took a swig of the whiskey and spit it out in front of him. “See! It’s always correct.”
“Listen…Jack. I really must be on my way, and unfortunately for you, you’re in the way.”
Jack stumbled forward, pointing in the snow where the whiskey marked the white surface. “Look, it’s right there. Don’t you see it?”
The sour faced stranger was the only thing he could see. The disgusting smell told Samuel he was liquored up and probably off his rocker.
The man instantly stopped staggering and looked Samuel straight in the eyes. “You should have let the she-beast drown.”
Anger rushed through his limbs. He’d never seen this stranger before in his life. Surely, he couldn’t have been in the woods when he saved the beast. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
He extended his bottle and offered him a swig. “You might need a drink of this.”
Samuel declined, shaking his head in bewilderment.
Jack stepped aside and mumbling as he continued in the opposite direction. “Things found in Lost Lake should stay in Lost Lake.”
∗ ∗ ∗
Chapter Four
Quinn opened his eyes to the sound of his mother softly humming in the kitchen. He laid there for a moment reflecting on yesterday’s events and reached up, touching his swollen brow. Anger immediately coursed through his veins.
He took a deep breath and slowly sat up. He should try to forget about yesterday, but it was another new day, and his problems hadn’t changed overnight. He pulled on his slippers and exited the room, joining his mother where she busied herself around the stove.
“Good morning, Mom,” he said sleepily.
She spun around and rushed over to greet him with a loving hug. “Hi sweetie. I was just about to come check on you,” she said, brushing the hair away from his face.
He turned, trying to hide what must be an obvious cut over his eye. “I’m sorry, Mom.”
“Nonsense, Quinn. Scoot your bottom over to that chair and I’ll fix you some breakfast.”
To argue would be pointless. He did as she asked without question. He admired his mother, who worked tirelessly from morning to night. He also heard the countless number of nights she cried herself to sleep, thinking he didn’t hear.
“Who was that nice fellow that helped us yesterday?”
“His name is Samuel Campton. He lives out of town.”
“I hope I get a chance to say thank you to him,” Quinn replied with genuine interest. He knew how lonely his mother was and he also knew the hardships she had to bear since the passing of his father. “Does he have a wife?” Quinn asked trying to sound nonchalant.
This time his Mom stopped what she was doing and looked directly at him with a keen eye. “What kind of question is that?” she asked with her hand on her hip.
“Nothing really. He just seemed like a nice fellow.”
“Really Quinn, what would you know about such things?” She scooped the eggs on a plate along with a biscuit and set it in front of him, and pulled up a chair. “I think you’re doing your best to avoid talking about what happened yesterday,” she spoke with tenderness. “You scared me half to death.”
Quinn pushed the eggs around on his plate, dreading the conversation about to come.
“I didn’t have a good day at school,” he stated sadly before putting the fork in his mouth.
“I guessed that much, can you tell me why?”
“Do I have to?” He stared up at her.
“Quinn, we are partners you and I. I may be your mother, but I don’t ever want to force you to do anything you don’t want to. I need you to be strong for me, and in turn I’ll always be strong for you.” She smiled.
A sigh escaped his lips. It had always been like this between them. He loved his mother dearly and he knew he’d never be able to keep anything from her…he wouldn’t want to.
“Billy Ellis and his friends decided to make fun of me again.” He laid his fork down and looked at his mother. “I tried to walk away from them, Mom, but he and his friends wouldn’t let me go. They called me a misfit because I had a spell on my way home. When I woke up, he started pushing me. Teddy Innis held me down and that red headed bully Billy hit me.” He hung his head.
His mom pushed her chair back and began pacing back and forth. “I’ll have a word with the Ellis’s this morning,” she said with force and determination.
“Mom, that won’t help and you know it. They are rich and powerful.”
“I don’t care, Quinn, this has to stop!” she said in frustration and sat back down beside him. “How I wish your father were here.”
He reached out and touched her hand. “It’s okay, Mom. It’ll be okay.”
She smiled bright and Quinn could see the unshed tears in her eyes. “My grown up twelve-year old. How I love you.” She pulled him into her arms and hugged him tightly. “Quinn, how many spells did you have yesterday?”
“Two,” he answered without emotion. “People don’t like me, Mom. I can see the fear in their eyes. Everyone looks at me like what I have is contagious.”
She pulled away from him, but didn’t let go. “People don’t understand and refuse to like what they can’t explain. That makes them the foolish ones, not you.”
“I know,” he said with sadness. “I just wish sometimes I could be normal like the other kids, and that they wouldn’t be scared to be around me.”
“Quinn, why don’t you stay home from school today? It snowed all night anyway.”
He pondered for a moment. “No, I need to go, Mom. I refuse to give into them.”
“You are your father’s son, aren’t you? Stubborn through and through.” She stood and began clearing the table. “Okay, you can go, but you need to come see me at lunch. Is that a deal?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” he smiled.
“Okay, finish your eggs.”
Quinn finished dressing and brushed his teeth. It looked cold outside, fresh snow and the first of the season. He turned to the mirror and did his best to cover his cut brow. The hat would be welcome this morning. At least it would cover the evidence of Billy Ellis’ maliciousness. His mom had already left for work, so he pulled his boots on, grabbed his coat and headed out the door.
Darkness still encased the small, rebuilt town. Quinn left early on purpose. Billy Ellis and his gang of mean friends wouldn’t be up this early heading to school. The teacher would arrive first, and he’d be safe once she got there.
The schoolhouse was not far from where he lived. The snow crunched beneath his feet and he smiled, deciding to cut through Ellis Park along the way. Lights were on in the houses he passed which allowed him to see where he was goin
g. It didn’t matter, he knew his way around the new town like the back of his hand, and besides, the full moon hadn’t gone down just yet.
The cemetery occupied a large spot at the north end of the park, just through the tall spruce trees. Quinn walked past the school on his left and continued to the far end of the park. A howl caused his heart to stop for a moment and he stood froze in his tracks. He could barely see, but something moved in and out between the trees. It watched him.
He knew all the stories and odd events that happened in this town since the flood. There were haunted houses, the drunk shaman, ghosts that were supposed to float around the cemetery, and of course, Lost Lake…the damned body of water where it all originated.
Quinn stood staring, unable to run, while a pair of red eyes stared back at him. A whine left the animal’s mouth. Unable to stop himself, he found his feet stepping forward while his mind screamed at him to stop and turn around. The red eyes never moved, never breaking contact with his.
He trudged through the snow, compelled to keep moving forward. The lights from the town no longer offered any light, and that’s when his foot caught the piece of wood under the snow. With a muffled exclamation, he fell to the ground. Sputtering, with snow in his mouth, he pushed himself to his knees.
Right in front of him stood the beast. The wolf looked down at him. Not any wolf, but the largest wolf he’d ever seen. It had red eyes with flecks of gold. Its coat was blacker than black, with the exception of a gold stripe of fur down its back. Quinn stayed perfectly still while the wolf blinked at him slowly and stepped even closer.
He closed his eyes, his body paralyzed with fear. The animal’s warm breath heated his cheek. Please, don’t let it eat me. Wet warmth touched his nose. His eyes sprang open to find the beast sitting on the ground in front of him. He could swear the animal smiled. Quinn sat back, staring at the strange wolf.
“What are you?” he whispered aloud.
The wolf whined and opened its mouth. “My name is Jazira.”
Quinn scooted further away. “Okay, now I really am sick. Wolves don’t talk.” He responded, “I’ve never heard that name before.”
