Max began to howl, bless his nose and ears, a noise heard well above the storm. He was my beacon.
“What was that?” the shorter Russian shouted in heavily accented English.
“Wolf!” I shouted back and was pleased when they looked alarmed. Feeling inspired I added, “Watch out for bears! They come when it snows.”
“Bears?” The two men began looking about nervously. I was happy to have their guns and flashlights pointed elsewhere. City dwellers. They would believe anything. Why would an animal be out in this ridiculous weather? Only crazy humans would risk their lives this way.
“We better get moving.”
“Where can we go?” the taller, more dangerous looking man shouted, probably wondering why I didn’t lead them to the dark building behind us.
“My place is closest and safest. And it won’t be locked.” None of the buildings would be locked. Unless the Bones had been drinking and forgot to leave his door open. “One of you, pick up Chuck. I will need some equipment and free hands to guide us. Wait here for me. I won’t be long.”
I took only three steps in what I was sure—pretty sure—was the direction of the garden shed the Bones had built for his wife, and then felt the reassuring outline of the fence that surrounded Doc’s yard. It was buried in snow, but there.
Linda Skywater has a barrel of wrought iron posts she uses to stake the plants in her summer garden. It sits right by the garden gate, which was only a dozen feet to the right. Or left, and about twenty feet as it turned out.
My improvisation wasn’t ideal, but I could drive the garden stakes into the snow when I reached the last line at Doc’s place and then use my clothesline—I never leave home without it—to make my own safety line for crossing the street. I might stray some since it was impossible to keep a completely straight line in these whiteout conditions, but the rope would always bring me back to a known place if I veered too far. As soon as I found my next marker, probably the cedar just to the right of the path that led to my door, I would plant another stake. I would go back for the others and then repeat as necessary. Eventually the trees near the cabin would offer a partial screen and the going would be easier.
It would have meant a lot of doubling back if I had been alone, but with three of us, well, two of us—since someone had to carry the Mountie—we should be able to do this in relays before we froze. Maybe we wouldn’t die after all.
The stakes were in their usual spot, though I had a bit of a battle breaking them out of the ice that had filled the barrel. I was back shortly, but even that brief absence had panicked the Russians, whose flashlights were jerking about erratically to look for the wolf that was still howling. At least, I think I was back shortly. My sense of time had been degraded, like my hearing and vision. My brain was full of white noise and the cold was affecting my judgment. Maybe the Russians were right to be fearful. If I got stupid, we could all die.
I tied one end of the thin but strong rope around my waist and tossed it to the nearest Russian. My hands were shaking inside their gloves. We had to get out of the cold. Chuck might already be dead. His cut wasn’t bleeding anymore.
“Tie yourselves tightly,” I shouted. “It’s only about fifty yards to my cabin, but if you lose me, you’re dead.” I was slightly underestimating the distance, but not overstating the danger.
They got the idea of forming a chain, but looked askance when I dropped to my knees and began crawling around the corner of the boulder that had offered us some shelter. One of them touched my ankle and I looked back at where he squatted.
“A quick lesson in wind velocity,” I shouted back, not knowing if he heard. “When you can hear it screaming like the souls of the damned, the wind will win the argument every time. We need to get on the ground and crawl. Drag Chuck, if you have to, but stay close to the ground and move as fast as you can.”
Chapter 15: Plans
I was very relieved that we found the cabin on the first try. I had no idea how hurt Chuck might be and needed to get to light and heat so I could check him for frostbite and concussion.
The door wasn’t locked, so no time was wasted fumbling for keys to open a lock that would be frozen anyway. Max would have rushed out, but I barred the way with my arm and ordered him inside. Once he saw the strangers he backed off to my right and went into his alert, hunting stance.
The cabin’s interior looked forlorn, burdened with winter, though the lamp in the window shone as brightly as it could. But it was shelter away from the wind, and the relative quiet was a blessing. The touch of a match would give us heat and light. A little food, a pot of chocolate, and we—or at least I—would feel better again.
Fortunately Chuck was coming around by the time we got him inside and forced the door closed. I put a match to the kindling in the hearth and then fetched the lamp to do a quick examination of my patient. I saw no frostbite on his exposed skin and no sign of head injury. He moved without pain. The falling limb had apparently pinned him but nothing seemed concussed or broken.
Max licked his face encouragingly, urging him to sit up. My dog knows that it isn’t good to sleep when there are strangers in the house. Max wasn’t being unfriendly to the interlopers but there was no tail wagging when he looked at the strangers with the guns, and I knew that the Russians were watching Max as well.
“Hey, welcome back, sleepyhead,” I said with feigned affection.
The Mountie blinked and looked around my cabin, obviously puzzled. He sat up slowly, freezing when he saw the Russians.
“A tree limb fell on you,” I explained, putting warning pressure on his shoulder. They didn’t know he was a policeman and I saw no need to inform them of this fact. “Chuck, we have company. They helped me get you home. This is….” I waited politely.
“Misha—and my friend Anatoli.” So, we were going to be friendly and first-namey. That suited me. I wanted them feeling relaxed and trusting when I slipped sleeping pills into their cocoa.
“And I am Butterscotch.” I saw the two men translating this and looking puzzled.
“Please feel free to sit down and lower your weapons. There are no bears inside.”
Both men complied, though they didn’t let their guns out of arm’s reach and continued to keep a close eye on Max.
“There is an old saying that there are no atheists in foxholes. Around here, we say that there are no enemies in blizzards,” I added a little dryly. Chuck was doing a good job of looking weak and shaky. At least I hoped he was acting. If I had to, I would go back to the pub alone, but would infinitely prefer to have him watching my back.
“The situation is unusual, but I assure you that I have only the best feelings for woman who save my life.” This was said sincerely by the one called Anatoli, but he was also eyeing the collection of weapons on my wall. I didn’t even try reaching for them. These two men seemed nice enough about helping with Chuck, but I couldn’t take any chances by provoking them. Pushed into a corner, they might not react politely.
“Food first.” I looked over at my camp stove and wondered if it was worth expending my breath on the store of curses needed to get it going. Probably not. I could prepare hot chocolate and pancakes on the fire.
“You are cooking?” Misha asked hopefully as I reached for a cast iron skillet.
“Yes. We have all burned off a lot of calories out in the cold and we need energy. Best to take your coats off and let the perspiration dry. Sweaty clothes can freeze quickly. It’s a bad night to be abroad. We are lucky to be alive.”
The wind hissed viciously, growing more insistent and angry with every minute. I let the implications sink in. Oddly, neither man looked that unhappy.
“The phone?” Anatoli asked, but as one bound by duty.
I added wood to the kindling in the hearth and then obligingly tried the phone, though I knew the lines were frozen and they wouldn’t ring.
“I’m sorry, but the phone is out. There is no way to call the pub and let your friends know that you are alright—and
only a crazy person would go back out into the storm.” A crazy person, or a determined one. The thought of what might be happening at the pub made my heart pound in a sickening way. “I’m sorry, but you will have to stay here for the night.”
There actually was a way to contact the pub or other buildings in town. I inherited a short-range radio that probably would function in the storm, but saw no need to mention this to the unwanted guests. No. I wanted everyone resigned and ready to settle in for a long winter’s nap after I filled their tummies. It wouldn’t take much. The men were exhausted and I think feeling almost cheerful about their situation. Compared to what was happening at the pub, I thought they were lucky too.
“Let me get out of my gear before I overheat,” I said, walking toward my bedroom and the nightstand where I had some leftover sleeping pills. They were way past their throwaway date and I hoped they were still potent enough to work. I didn’t close my door as I slipped off my borrowed coat. I didn’t want Anatoli thinking I was digging up a weapon. “Then we’ll have some pancakes and hot chocolate. Coffee later.” I was lying. No way was I giving them caffeine. “Right now we need calories and sugar. Except you, Chuck. I want to get some willow bark tea in you. That will help you feel better. I know that you probably have a bad headache.”
And I didn’t want him drinking the doctored cocoa. I didn’t hide that I was opening my end table drawer. I dropped in my gloves and palmed the pill box. A quick flick of my thumb and I had the lid open and the pills dumped in my sweater pocket. Thank goodness the pharmacist in Little Fork still used tiny cardboard boxes.
I didn’t light more lamps. Darkness was my friend, and everyone seemed content to huddle near the fire. I readied the batter and the pan for the cocoa—with pills dissolving in the dried milk, sugar, and powdered cocoa concoction that tasted almost like real hot chocolate, especially when I added a large amount of cinnamon. There was a small pan with plain water for Chuck’s tea. Then I brought everything to the hearth and started arranging the coals.
I hummed while I worked, letting my hair fall around my face so I looked softer and more feminine. Misha might be willing to forget my Girl Guide act, but I suspected that Anatoli wasn’t underestimating me, so I was careful not to do anything that looked threatening. It was hard to act unconcerned when fear of what might be happening to my friends was shrilling in the back of my brain, but I made myself work slowly and refused to feel any guilt for what I was doing to these strangers.
To ease any suspicions that might occur to them about the food, I poured out a cup of cocoa for myself and pretended to drink. Of course, I was busy cooking, so had little time to sip it after that.
“Would one of you grab some plates and the honey on the table? It is in a yellow tin.”
Misha went readily. I dished up the pancakes, giving them to the men first, and started preparing more for myself. I realized I was humming “Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow.”
“Grigori was concerned that you had left the saloon so suddenly,” Anatoli said after he had swallowed his first bite of pancakes.
I bet he was concerned. He probably thought that I had somehow taken the loot from the safe. At least these two could testify that neither Chuck or I had been found dripping with jewels and bonds.
“I realized that Chuck had gone out into the storm to look for some of our neighbors who were supposed to be at the pub. He is used to winters, but only in the city. I was afraid that something had happened to him. And it had,” I added, casting a long look his way. “I would have been unhappy if you had died before we were even married,” I said reproachfully.
“Me too,” Chuck agreed readily, understanding that I didn’t want them to know that he was a Mountie and was providing him with a likely excuse. I doubt that he was happy with me taking the lead in planning our defenses, but he had no way of knowing what the situation at the pub was.
“Not to be rude,” I said, turning back to Anatoli, who was looking increasingly more relaxed and less inclined to eye my dog. “But it seemed to me that your friend would not have been inclined to allow me out to search for Chuck. Or our neighbors.”
“You are correct,” Misha said. “Grigori is not overburdened with the cream of human kindness.”
“Milk of human kindness,” I corrected without thinking.
“Milk, cream, cheese—he has none of it.”
“Well, it was nice of him to send you two out after me,” I said, not quite able to look up as I told this lie. “And we are all safe now, so we should be happy.”
“You are a generous lady,” Misha said.
I liked him. Heaven help me, I liked both of them. Maybe the snow had frozen my wits.
“I am a tired lady. Chuck and I will sleep in my room. There is another bed through that door and the sofa. I will let you decide which you prefer. Be sure to lay open your coats and to take off your boots and dry your socks. Moisture can cause frostbite. Oh and put them up high. Max is a sock thief.”
Being shoeless and coatless would also slow them down if they awoke and found us missing. Perhaps I should hide their boots once they were asleep.
“Max usually sleeps by the fire, but if you like I can keep him with me tonight.”
“No. I think that the wolf is content where he is. Let him be.”
I chuckled.
“He will be especially content if you leave your plate on the floor so he can have the leftover honey. But not the cocoa,” I added quickly. “Chocolate makes dogs sick.”
As do sleeping pills.
“This I know. I had a dog once,” Misha said and then yawned.
“Let me get an extra blanket.” I only had one, but it was a thick wool and would suffice with the fire. “The privy is past the curtain. The arrangements are primitive, but….”
“Do not apologize.” Anatoli also yawned. “You have been kindness itself and we are very grateful to you for helping us.”
I shook my head and then leaned over to shake Chuck awake. He was only pretending to sleep.
“I only do what needs to be done in these extreme circumstances,” I said, and lowered one lid. Chuck began to look wary. His eyes went to his mug and then to Misha’s. I smiled briefly.
Misha nodded and yawned some more, but Anatoli gave me a questioning look when I straightened.
“Don’t worry,” I said, looking the Russian in the eye this time. I said the next words carefully. “You are safe here. As long as you don’t go out in the storm again, you’ll be fine. We have plenty of firewood and food. Wolves and bears can’t get inside. No one can find you. Just rest and let nature take her course. Things will probably seem much better in the morning.”
“Only an insane person would go out in that storm,” Chuck said.
“We are agreed on that. Come on, honey-buns. Let’s get you to bed.”
Chuck’s brow lifted at my choice of endearments, but he draped an arm around me and steered me toward my room in a very natural way.
“Goodnight,” I said, and everyone agreed with me.
Chapter 16: The Rescue
Chuck and I closed the door but not all the way. We sat on the edge of the bed in darkness and listened to the sound of the two men preparing for sleep.
The Mountie leaned over, putting his lips to my ear. It was tricky speaking loud enough to be heard over the wind but not by our unwanted guests.
“You drugged them?” Chuck guessed.
I turned my head, searching for his ear and grazing a cheek on the way. He didn’t pull back in disgust and I found myself wondering—quite irrelevantly—if he were married or otherwise romantically involved. I hadn’t thought to ask before.
“Yes. Hope it works. I wasn’t obvious, was I?” I asked, thinking of Anatoli’s observant gaze. “I mean, they drank it. I think.”
“No, you were very smooth. I was just looking for it. How bad is it back at the pub?” Chuck asked, and I realized that he didn’t know what had happened at the Lonesome Moose.
“Bad en
ough. There are six Russians—well, four there now. Heavily armed. The crazy one, Grigori, has taken everybody hostage and shot up the place a bit. He threatened to kill the Flowers if Big John didn’t open the safe. I suspect he heard about the safe from Whisky Jack, who came slinking in with them.” I forced myself to slow down the tumble of words and breathe properly. I needed to save my energy for our next venture and not waste time on details and speculation that didn’t matter. “The safe was empty. I think the Flowers moved the money earlier when she got a look at the crazy Russian and figured he’d be back. She has good instincts and doesn’t always tell her father what she’s doing.”
Or maybe she moved it even earlier, and that was why she had sent the Mountie to me. Either way, she hadn’t told Big John.
“Go on. How did you escape?” There was more head turning, but we had worked out our ballet and weren’t mashing noses on the head pivot anymore.
“Same way you did. There was confusion after the safe was found empty and I slipped away. I knew you were out there, maybe lost. And that you didn’t know how many Russians had come back. Otherwise you wouldn’t have left.”
“Thank you for that,” Chuck said. “For not thinking that I would have run away and left you.”
“Of course not. You wouldn’t be that sensible.”
He grunted. It might have been a laugh.
“Did the Flowers tell them where the loot was?”
“No. She is thinking—” I took another deep breath, slow five count in, slow five count out. “She thinks the crazy Russian will kill everyone when he gets what he wants. He doesn’t know the Flowers moved the loot and he may be thinking that Whisky Jack just made up the story after all—in which case I pity Jack. I don’t even know for sure that she moved it but….”
“But say she did. What happens next?”
“She’s stalling for time while I find you, and then we go back and try to rescue them before the crazy one starts torturing people. I know that sounds a little ambitious, but the pub has a lot of ways in and out that we can use. And I don’t think the other Russians have their hearts in this venture. If we can take out the leader, it will be okay. At the very least we can help a lot of people escape. The storm is dangerous, but not as bad as that Russian.”
Due North Page 11
