Noble Savage

by Judith B. Glad

  "Do that. Good night." The conductor went back inside.

  Luke had to squeeze pretty tight to get back to the stock car without climbing on the roof, but he made it. When he slid the door open, he called out, "Katie. It's me."

  "You were gone forever," she told him as she pulled on the hand he'd extended. "What took you so long?"

  "We're stuck," he told her, "and Whitney's looking for you."

  "He's here?" Her voice was shrill.

  "Him and his knife-toting thug." He felt his way to the hay bin. Beside it, a flat-topped box was attached to the wall of the car. He set the lantern on it and lit it. Much as he hated the idea of showing the light, they needed it. They'd get away twice as fast if they could see what they were doing.

  He looked around the nearly empty stock car. "If you see anything that might come in handy, take it. We'll settle up with the railroad later." He started opening the temporary stalls, setting gate sections against the wall. "You get our gear together?"

  "Yes. And I found a keg of water. Have we got any way to carry it?"

  "I'll make one." Habit took over as he checked all three animals, making sure their shoes were tight, their legs free of injury. "Give 'em each a drink. We may not find water right away."

  They worked silently. Luke gave thanks that Katie was not a typical woman, always questioning his orders. She'd have made a good soldier.

  "Luke, may I cut some of your rope?"

  "No more'n you have to. We may need it." Once he'd made sure the stock was ready. Luke knelt and opened his bedroll. In the center, well protected by layers of tarpaulin and wool blanket, wrapped in clean cotton, was his rifle and two hundred rounds of ammunition. He stuffed a handful of bullets into his coat pocket, set the rest aside. Quickly he wiped the surface of the rifle, checked its action.

  "You said you didn't carry a gun." Katie's voice was accusing.

  "I don't. This is a rifle."

  She sniffed, but he could see a smile lurking in the corners of her mouth. "I've got everything I could find ready to load. Do you want me to start?"

  "I'll do it," Luke said. He was particular about how his stock was loaded. With Katie hardly big enough to see over Lafayette's back, she'd have the devil of a time.

  She had found half a dozen gunnysacks and some leather thongs. The keg of water was sitting beside a large, lumpy canvas bag. Draped over both was a moth eaten horse blanket and a bundle of leather straps. A hammer sat on top of everything. Luke looked inside the canvas bag. Corn. Looking like it had been nibbled by mice, but with enough remaining kernels to make it worthwhile. Luke tossed a couple of handfuls into the sorrel's feed bucket, then twisted the bag closed.

  "I thought Salome might carry the corn and our provisions. I think I can rig these across her back."

  "Good idea. Sure wish we had a shovel." The thought of trying to force the animals along the narrow corridor between railcar and snow was daunting. Hell! He didn't even know if he could get them to jump down.

  "We do, but I didn't think we could carry it." Katie went to the end of the railcar and returned carrying a spade-handled shovel with a bent blade.

  "It'll get us out of here." Luke took it from her. "See if you can get all that truck tied onto Salome." He shoved the offside door wide open, wincing at the noise.

  The shovel bit into the snow nicely as he widened the space beside the railcar. Luke pushed the loose snow down below the door, hoping it would pack well enough to support the animals when they emerged. When he turned around to toss his coat into the railcar, he saw Katie stamping on the pile of snow, packing it into a makeshift ramp.

  He went back to his shoveling. While he worked, he thought about the helpless little woman he thought he'd hired on to protect.

  She needed a man around about as much as a bullfrog needed eyeglasses.

  Chapter Twelve

  The shovel bit through a last layer of snow with such force that Luke nearly lost his balance. At last! Quickly he enlarged the opening.

  When he'd reconnoitered from the railcar's roof, he had seen how the railroad cut across the toes of one low ridge after another. Even though the ground sloped steeply toward the creek, enough snow was piled up that the engine had embedded itself and its tender until both were entirely out of sight. The drift they were stuck in quickly tapered off on either side of the cut and Luke had aimed his tunnel at the closest end. Now they had to enlarge it enough for Lafayette to get through.

  Katie dug while he stomped the tunnel's floor as solid as he could make it. When they finally led the animals out into the open, the sky had lightened considerably. Dawn was not far away.

  They'd have to go slowly until daylight, testing every step. The last thing he wanted to do was tumble into a pond or a creek. "I want to take a last look around. Hold 'em here," he told Katie when she caught up with him.

  "I checked twice. We haven't left anything behind."

  Luke hadn't lived this long by relying on others. "Be right back." He slipped past her and the animals, patting each. Their lives might depend on Lafayette and the asses. He sure hoped they were as strong as old Smith had claimed.

  One last look around the stock car and he was satisfied. The only thing they were leaving behind was the lantern.

  On his way back, he checked first Sheba then Salome, testing the ropes securing their makeshift packs, taking an inventory of their cargoes by feel.

  That damn fiddle case. It hung loosely against Sheba's side. "Where's those thongs you found?"

  "On Salome, I think. I stuffed them into the corn sack."

  So she wasn't perfect. "How'd you expect us to get them in a hurry?" He moved back, found the mouth of the gunnysack. Katie's knots were competent, and the way she'd hung the two gunnysacks across the ass's back showed some experience with packing. "Anything we might need on the trail, make sure it's where we can lay a hand on it quick." He tied the fiddle case more securely, then tucked the rest of the thongs into a saddlebag. "Where's my rifle?"

  "I rigged a tie-down on Lafayette. It'll just slip out if you pull on it."

  Once more working by feel, he tested the lashing. She was right. It pulled free with a quick jerk, the rifle sliding into his hand without a hitch. "Good girl." He replaced it, duplicating the knots she'd used.

  The sky was definitely lighter. As if to compound his worries, he heard a shout from the back of the train. It was answered by a flurry of voices, then silence again.

  "Let's go." He led out, walking a pace in front of Lafayette, wishing he had a better map to guide them on this wild goose chase.

  * * * *

  If she had the sense God gave a goose, she'd be taking her chances with Whitney, Katie told herself as she followed Luke away from the train. They were going uphill, but she hadn't any idea in what direction. Without the stars, she was lost.

  "Do you know where we're going?"

  He didn't turn around. "I hope so." His words were muted, and she had to strain to hear them. "If we're headed right, we should be able to go over a high ridge and get into a drainage that will take us south. We'll pick up the railroad again closer to Evanston."

  Katie caught up with him. "But that's nowhere near Fort Bridger!" They could catch a stage at the fort, and arrive in Salt Lake City only a day or so late.

  "Where do you think would be the first place Whitney'll look, once he finds us gone?"

  "Oh." Chagrinned, Katie said no more. Once again she heard shouts from the direction of the train. She hoped the shouters were concerned with getting unstuck and not with missing passengers.

  Part of her wished it would get light real soon. The rest hoped it would stay good and dark until they got far enough from the train that they couldn't be seen. She turned to look back, found that she could no longer see its lights.

  Of course, once the train crew decided they were stuck for a while, they might have extinguished all lights except those at the tail of the caboose.

  A deeper darkness told of a draw ahead. Luke handed
Katie the lead line. "Hold 'em here for a minute. I want to see what we're getting into." He walked ahead, gradually fading into the darkness. Katie noticed how bare this ridge was. The sky had lightened enough that she could see how scattered piles of snow gradually merged into a solid mass of white in the draws on either side, but the ridgeline, where they walked, was swept bare by the gusting wind.

  Luke returned, startling her. He could walk as silently as her father and brothers. Amusement flickered through her as she heard his "I ain't your brother," in memory.

  "Looks like we'll go this way." He pointed to the left. "There's a bench along there that slopes on up. No snow, and it's heading in the direction we want."

  "We're out of sight of the train. Can we rest?" She was tired and short of breath. If she ever found herself in a bed again, she'd likely sleep a week.

  "You just did." His teeth flashed in the dim light. "I want to get as far as I can before daylight. Just in case they take a mind to come after us."

  With a sigh, she said, "Of course. I hadn't thought about that." Doing her best to return his smile, she said, "Well, then, shall we be off?"

  They climbed slowly as the sky lightened. The wind seemed stronger and colder, too, than it had been yesterday in Rock Springs. It smelled of snow again, and she wondered how long a respite they would have. She coughed as the membranes of her throat dried and chilled. Forcing herself to inhale slowly and evenly, she gradually found it easier to breathe comfortably.

  After they had been walking for what must have been two hours, Luke turned Lafayette into the partial shelter of a cedar tree. "Rest," he said.

  Gratefully Katie sank to the ground. For the last mile or so, she had been consumed by jaw-cracking yawns. A sleepless night, following all the nights aboard the train when her sleep had been light and often interrupted, and she was about at the end of her tether.

  Daylight had come, a dismal, gray affair, with low clouds filling the sky. With full day, the wind picked up again, howling among the rock outcrops and setting the cedars to whipping and bowing. Already her face felt flayed, for the wind had sucked all moisture from her skin.

  Katie caught herself just as she was about to fall asleep. Luke was moving about and she realized he was feeding the animals. Feeling older than Methuselah's sister, Katie forced herself to her feet and fetched a canteen and the bucket she'd 'borrowed' from the stock car.

  As she poured water into the bucket, Luke cautioned, "Not too much. We don't know when we'll find more."

  They were still on the ridge, where no snow lay. In order to refill their keg, they would have to descend deep into the canyon below. Its bottom was choked with shrubs--willows, it looked like. Katie had learned early in life the futility of trying to fight one's way through willow thickets. She rationed the water carefully.

  When the stock had been tended, Katie dug into their provision bag. "We should carry some of this in our pockets," she told Luke. "My fingers are so cold I almost couldn't get the knot untied." She handed him a large strip of jerky. "Do you want cheese, too?"

  "How about some apples? And a few lemon drops?"

  As Katie handed the food to him, she looked up into his face. There were dark smudges under his eyes, and the lines about his mouth seemed deeper. As tired as she was, he must be exhausted. He had done most of the digging. As if to confirm her suspicions, he yawned.

  So did she, widely, uncontrollably. "I'm sorry," she told Luke. "I didn't mean to get you into this predicament."

  "I was getting mighty fed up with that train," he said, smiling slightly, "and this sure beats sitting around and waiting to be dug out."

  "Oh, Luke, you don't need to pretend. If it weren't for me, you'd be sitting warm and cozy in Laramie right now. You must wish you'd never helped me in the first place." Thinking back to Council Bluffs, she wondered if she would have asked him to see her to Salt Lake City, if that first kiss hadn't shaken her so.

  "I never did take to sitting around all winter," he said, halving two of the apple slices. He fed the animals, one chunk for each, then popped the fourth into his own mouth. Shading his eyes, he looked to the west, up toward the long, sharp crest that lay black against the sky. "I reckon we've got four, five more hours' walking before we get deep enough into the timber to set up camp. You up for it?"

  Bending, Katie picked up the lead line. "Let's go. The sooner we start, the sooner we get there." She'd be darned if she was going to let him see how weary she was.

  * * * *

  They weren't all that far, as the crow flew, from the train, but a man on foot would do a sight of walking to catch up with them. Luke wasn't much of a judge of elevation, but even he could see that they'd come uphill a fair distance. The Union Pacific tracks were a broken silver line across the land, twisting in and out of the snowdrifts as they wound along beside the creek.

  He squinted up at the sky. The early morning clouds had cleared, but more were moving in, pregnant with snow. Luke knew if they didn't get into deep timber before night, they'd be hard put to shelter from the coming storm.

  This was their third rest stop. He'd needed it as much as Katie. All that sitting on the train and he was as puny as a newborn babe. His boots seemed to be filled with lead, making each step an effort. And he couldn't seem to get his wind, like he'd been chasing a loco cow across the plains afoot, yet all he'd done today was walk a few miles.

  "Well, we won't get any younger, sittin' here," he said, creaking to his feet.

  Katie took the hand he held out to her and stood. Luckily she didn't pull on him as she did, for if she had, he'd more than likely have ended up in her lap. He was that tired.

  "Look up there," she said, pointing. "Does that look like a spring to you?"

  Peering in that direction, Luke squinted. He sure wished he had a field glass. "A seep, anyhow," he decided. "Let's go see." The dark green spot on the hillside was only a little ways from the line he'd planned they'd travel, and not all that far uphill.

  "How far do you reckon we've come?" Katie slipped her hand in his. Even through her gloves and his, her trust tickled him. She was such an independent little thing, and each small gesture of reliance warmed his heart.

  Wait a consarned minute! Her relying on him was the last thing he wanted, wasn't it?

  Luke shook his head, wondering how he'd ever got his thoughts in such a coil. Having vowed he'd never again take responsibility for another person, he'd up and hired on to do just that.

  Much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, Luke had to admit he couldn't think of anything he'd rather be doing right now. Or anybody he'd rather be with. He'd known his share of women, but not many of 'em were the sort he'd want to find himself on the trail with.

  Katie sure wasn't the fine lady she'd appeared when he'd first seen her, although she was a lady, sure enough. Cute as a bug's ear and desirable enough to tempt a preacher to sin.

  Luke wasn't no preacher, even though it'd been a while since he'd done any sinning. Long enough that he was finding it almost impossible to resist temptation. Last night he hadn't, not soon enough, and he was ashamed.

  Glancing at Katie, he remembered how soft her mouth was, how sweet she tasted. For a moment he imagined he smelled lilac again. Involuntarily he took a deep breath, thinking how he'd like to bury his face between her lush, round breasts and breathe her scent until his whole body was full of it.

  First he'd take that damned coat off of her, then he'd peel back the waist of her calico dress, button by button. As he twisted each loose from its buttonhole, he'd kiss her warm skin, starting with her throat. He'd linger at the hollow where her heartbeat would throb against his tongue, then slowly find his way down to the top of that lacy undershirt--or whatever she called it--he'd felt last night.

  She wore no corset. That had delighted him, intrigued him, ever since he'd first noticed the lack, back in Omaha when he'd tripped over her. Of course, under that coat, it really didn't matter. A man would have to lay hands on her to discover how soft and
free her body felt.

  The very thought sent red rage through him. No man was going to lay hands on Katie while he was anywhere around. Especially not some milksop from Boston.

  Katie let go his hand. "It is!" she cried, hurrying ahead. "It's a spring." Since she had hold of the lead line, Lafayette and the two asses followed her, trotting as they caught the scent of water.

  Luke let Katie water the stock. He lowered himself to a squat, head hanging, and wondered if he'd ever get himself back upright again. There had been times when he was more wore out than this, but he'd never before found himself gasping for breath as he climbed an especially steep slope.

  Did Katie have any idea of what they could be getting themselves into? She clearly trusted him--more than he trusted himself. Sure he had a map, but it didn't tell what was over this hogback they were climbing, beyond a winding line labeled CREEK?

  The unnamed creek--if that's what it was--rose south of here, near where the railroad went through a mountain. That meant they were either going to be climbing that mountain or going around it. He hoped to God he could find an easy pass into the Bear River drainage.

  After a moment's hesitation, he added a prayer that between here and the hoped-for pass, they'd find shelter and game.

  There was snow coming, sure as shootin'.

  The spring was big enough to water the animals and refill their water keg, if you weren't in a hurry. Katie held a cup under the drip, watching Luke from the corners of her eyes. He was restless, checking and rechecking the packs, inspecting each animal's feet.

  If only he would sit down and rest longer. Exhaustion had drawn deep creases in his cheeks, had smudged around his eyes. Even his usually lithe movements were clumsy, as if it was an effort for him to keep upright.

  Well, no wonder. If he was half as tired as she, he was about ready to drop.

  "I've got to find a rock to hide behind," she told him, no longer embarrassed at admitting the need. After a week in his company, she felt as comfortable with him as she would with her brothers. Again she heard a faint echo of his words, denying any relationship. He was sure determined she didn't take him for kin.