“Yeah, right.” The warm, gentle weight of her fingers entwined with his stirred his memory. She was tall enough and built with the sleek curves to drive a man to distraction. From the first time he’d seen her, he’d been wondering if she’d take the strength and hardness of his body with ease. He had to curb his anger at the way he ached just being near her. It was her scent and that haunting voice of hers that made lust rise in a violent rush.
He stood up abruptly, pulling her to her feet. “Enough tracking lessons. As for what I found near the lake bank, it was most likely a hunting party heading back to camp.”
She smiled at him with a trust that almost made him tell her to run and never trust him. Especially since he didn’t trust himself. But he didn’t say it. He dropped her hand.
“Let’s go get the horses.”
She followed his lead, missing the warmth of his hand holding hers, and wondering what she had done to make him raise his guard again.
“I set a snare, but there’s plenty of game hereabouts so you won’t go hungry.”
“I wasn’t worried, Luke. You may take your skills for granted, but I admire them. But I admit, it will be nice to have a fire. I remember something my father said once. It was something about hard beans and jerky tasting sweet when hunger prowls in your belly. After eating jerky I would argue the—” Domini stopped. She couldn’t argue with her father about that or anything else. He was dead. And the reason why she had come here.
It was impossible to walk alongside him as the thick growth of the massive trunks seemed to close in on them. She did notice that Luke was not leading the way over the rise; nor was he heading back the way he had returned. He was going deeper into the woods.
The thought of a hot fire kept her plodding along behind him. “I don’t know what I’m more hungry for, a fire, food, or sunlight.”
“Sunlight?”
“Yes. Don’t laugh.”
“Wasn’t going to. Just never heard of anyone hungry for the sun.”
Not if you’re a man who has always lived in shadows. She wouldn’t say it to him, but she couldn’t stop herself from thinking about it.
“I don’t know if I could describe how bright the sun in California is. If you look up, you’ll hurt your eyes. The earth’s been baked with its heat. It was wonderful to be able to escape into the cool adobe brick rooms of the mission in the afternoon. Everywhere you walked, it felt as if hot coals burned right up through the soles of your feet.”
“You wear those moccasins there, too?”
Domini paused and glanced down, then continued. “I ran barefoot for so long that the nuns despaired of my ever wearing shoes. These were a compromise.”
There was laughter in her voice. No whining that she didn’t have shoes to wear. Though he tried to fight it, an image came to mind of Domini running wild, her black hair streaming out behind her. Luke shook his head as if he could rid himself of thinking about her. But he thought about what she said. She’d come from a land of heat. And he wanted nothing more than to capture the fire inside her and see how hot it could burn.
“Luke?”
“What?”
The edge in his voice should have warned her to back off. She had been enjoying their talk and didn’t want it to end. All this worrying and wondering was taking its toll on her. Surely he wasn’t upset because she wore moccasins and not shoes. Or was he?
“Does it bother you that I wear moccasins?”
Hell, yes! Everything about you bothers me! “Suit yourself, I’ve got a pair, too.”
Lord, was this all he was going to give her—talk about footwear? She was not going to let him retreat again. Luke had become more than a means to learn more about her father.
“How do your moccasins hold up in the snow? You do have lots of snow here, don’t you?”
“Yeah.” And I could use some right now to cool off.
“I’ve never seen snow, Luke. What is it like?”
“White and wet.”
“Always?”
“Always. You’ve come to a land that’s been buried in cold so long I don’t think there’s enough sunlight to thaw it out.” Luke shot a quick look upward at the towering canopy of green. “Maybe that ain’t true. If they keep on logging the forests the way they do on the lower slopes, none of this might be here in a hundred years. Greed tends to destroy land. Every time a new trail is cut to make mining easier, game disappears. The trees that are cut change the flow of water.
“No water, no trees, no game. Greed and destruction go hand in hand. The Nez Perce have lived in peace, but their way of life is being destroyed. They’ll fight to keep what they believe is a sacred trust. Ah, hell, I didn’t mean to run on.”
“But I want to hear more. I like listening to you, Luke.”
The wind moaned through the upper boughs as Domini forced herself up the sharpening slope of land. When he said nothing else, she knew he wasn’t going to be pushed into talking. But Luke had revealed a little more about himself, adding to the curiosity that burned in her. Domini was sure he had been talking as much about the land as he had about himself.
Why did he believe that change brought destruction? Had someone tried to destroy him to make him change? She found it hard to believe that there was anyone who could make Luke do something against his will.
Or was this all part of his secrets?
Lost in thought, Domini didn’t notice the lighter dappling of shadows as they neared the forest’s edge. What caught her attention was the rumbling sound of water.
And Luke. She would always hear his voice.
“Come see why the Indians call E-dah-hoe, land with light on the mountains.”
Domini walked out of the shadows and into the sunlight to feel the radiant warmth coming not only from the sun, but from Luke.
He watched her, his gaze unwavering and direct. Domini felt something stir in the deepest center of her soul. She had believed that Luke was so guarded, not even the tiniest seed could find a place to lodge itself and find nuturing to grow. She began to realize she was wrong, so very wrong. His handsome, hard-edged features reflected a love for the land.
Her breathing quickened. If Luke could love the land, how much more would he love someone who could love him back?
Chapter 9
She felt the mare’s nose at the small of her back, nudging her forward.
Luke, already stripping the gear from Devil, was watching her. “The meadow’s filled with elk thistle, and your sorrel’s anxious to get at it.”
Domini dropped the reins and walked out into meadow grasses that topped her knees. Jagged mountains demanded her attention. They appeared like beast’s teeth ready to chew up the sky. Impassable rock walls, scraped bare, stately and time-stained, enclosed the meadow. From a deep cut ahead, a small series of waterfalls spilled beadlike foam to tumble in crystal chaos into a lake.
Her gaze drank in the sight of the sun’s splendor touching an arc of glittering color that changed quicker than thought, half enveloped in its own rising mist, and then the wind carried it away, only to have the arc reform with deeper hues.
Ever changing, breathtaking, Domini saw that a passion for beauty had created part of this wild place, but anger made it whole.
A giant hand had speared the earth with granite and rust slabs that rose with mighty splendor. They challenged the sky and the water. She sensed that nothing but those eternal rocks could withstand the rumbling flow of water that dashed in a torrential rush through its cuts and crevices.
Drawn forward, Domini was unaware that Luke moved to strip the saddle from her sorrel, or that he still watched her discover the spirea and wild hollyhock drooping in a waterfall of flowers over the boulders that formed part of the lake bank.
He was arrested by the overpowering sense that Domini belonged here—wild, free, unsoiled by any man’s hand. The mist added luster to the sun’s sheen, which turned her hair to the blue-black of a night sky. The en
d of her long, single braid touched the rising tips of the grasses and wildflowers like a kiss as she raised her face to the sun. She lifted her arms and spread them wide as if to embrace a lover.
He wanted to know if that soft, silky, golden skin that graced her face and neck was the same all over—her breasts, her belly, her thighs, between her legs. Hunger filled him in a violent rush. Were her nipples the same lush, dusky color as her generously shaped lips?
His hands tightened on the saddle he held, and a low, rough sound rumbled in his throat. He looked at her and let out a long breath of cynical acceptance. This was the one place he could never forget that she was Jim Kirkland’s daughter.
She had refused him once. He would not go begging. It was one of the first harsh lessons he’d learned—you couldn’t beg for someone to care about you.
Domini turned toward him, shading her eyes with one hand. “It’s so beautiful here, Luke. How do you ever leave it?”
“Easily,” he called out, turning away.
She didn’t believe him, and was disappointed that his guard was firmly in place again. She was touched by this place, touched deeply, and had to share her feelings whether he wanted to hear it or share it with her.
“This is one of God’s Edens. Timeless and graced with beauty. It’s almost too much to take it in all at once, Luke, but I feel a strange sadness here, too. You’ll think me foolish, but I feel as if there were lost souls haunting this place.” She rubbed her upper arms against a sudden chill and moved to follow him. Casting a last look at the beckoning water, she knew it would wait, as it had always waited. This time she would show him that she was not a burden.
The horses were ground-tied, the reins trailing down as they foraged through the thick grasses. Domini knew then just how safe it was, for Luke would never let them free. He headed back toward the woods, and she hurried to catch up to him.
“The mountains seem so powerful, almost frightening, Luke.”
He stopped then and half turned toward her. The longing to talk was in her voice, in those eyes that searched his face. He gripped the saddle horns tighter, not daring to set them down. It was the only way he’d keep his hands off her.
“Maybe the mountains were meant to frighten. They give their own truths to a man. Their height makes you feel small, but their being there offers a challenge, too. A man can’t really conquer them, but he’s got to look inside himself to find his strength and weakness, as well as facing his fears. He’ll find out what, if any, hope he harbors. Survive them and you’ll understand your own measure of a man.”
“Or a woman, Luke.”
His eyes narrowed as he banked his desire. “Or a woman.” He couldn’t forget that she had faced her own terrors and survived. But there was one terror that he had buried in his mind, and he wondered now if he was never meant to remember it. Perhaps his mind was protecting him from the memory that surfaced in nightmares, only to fade when he woke. Maybe he wouldn’t survive remembering what it was.
“Corn’ on, we’ll make camp, then you can have your bath. And you were right about the lost souls. No one knows how many men have lost their lives in these mountains. I remember old Mulekey—”
“Mulekey?”
“He’s so old, even he ain’t sure of his age. But he taught me all he knew about horses, which ain’t as much as he’s likely forgotten. He’s a fine one for storytelling, though. Nights ’round a campfire he tells tales he learned from the Nez Perce or the Shoshone. Story goes that an Indian brave lost his way and encountered seven demons before he found his way back to his tribe. They named the Seven Devils mountains after he returned.
“The Shoshone call the Salmon Tom-Agit-Pah, big fish river, after the salmon that run its waters. Most white men call it the river of no return.”
“Why, Luke? Everything has a beginning and an end. Even those mountains.” She gestured behind her. “They begin in the sky and end somewhere in the earth below.”
Domini saw him hesitate before he entered an almost perfect circle of trees. She had a feeling that Luke had camped here many times, and strangely, she thought it had been a long time since he’d been here. She shook her head as if to rid herself of the feeling that he was facing a few old ghosts before he slung the saddles down near one of the trunks. He went directly to the center of the small clearing and lifted deadfall. Hunkering down, he began scooping out a faint depression in the earth to reveal a ring of stones.
The sounds of the water were muted here, insulated by the thick trunks with their sweeping boughs. Even the bird calls seemed distant. Domini watched his hands take the last scoop of partially decayed matter out of the shallow pit. She saw not the strength of his hands holding her captive, but their gentleness when he held her.
Without his asking, she began to gather deadfall as he began building a fire with dry needles and smaller twigs.
“Tell me about the river, Luke.”
“Sure. It’s a white fury. Almost looks like it boils with rage against anyone daring to think they could ride it down. It’s a fighting river with nearly eighty miles of tortuous waters studded with huge boulders, jagged sawtooth rocks, small chutes and cascades that appear suddenly to fool you after a stretch of calm water and deep, easy flowing pools. A man could attempt to swim across in a few low spots, but he takes his life in his hands to try. Even the ferry raft depends on the season to make its crossings. Mostly in winter.”
Domini lowered the armful of dried branches she had gathered to his side. “When I first looked out, I had this strange thought that despite how beautiful it is, anger played a part in creating this country.”
He looked up at her. “Maybe that’s why I feel at home here. But not all of it looks like it was ripped from the earth and left to fall where it would. There’s hidden valleys, meadows, and lakes like this one. The Selway takes its name from a Nez Perce word, selwah, meaning smooth water. If it was all created in anger there wouldn’t be enough food to sustain an ant, much less a man.”
“Food?”
He lowered his head and hid his smile. Like a child she was licking her lips and rubbing her belly. He struck a match to the kindling, watched it catch, and fed it slowly.
“I did promise to feed you, didn’t I?”
“I’ll get the bacon and—”
“No. I’ll show you what I meant. Just give me a few minutes to make sure this fire won’t go out. Then I’ll go foraging for a feast.”
“Then we’ll need a basket.” She stripped off his wool shirt and spread it open on one of the low-hanging limbs. She unwrapped her shawl and quickly tied its ends to form a pouch. Slinging the knotted end over her arm, she turned around. “There’s your empty basket.”
Catching her lighter mood, he tossed his hat near the saddles. “Your supper awaits. But walk behind me, Domini—”
“You did know my father, didn’t you? You had to. He was the only one who ever called me that.”
“It’s a name that suits you. Are you going to ask questions or come with me?”
Unwilling to have the hostility he was so capable of come back, Domini shook her head. “Coming with you. But I don’t understand why I need to walk behind you. How will I know what to look for if I can’t see what you do?”
“I’ll show you. You walk behind for two reasons. One, you’ll crush new shoots without ever knowing that you killed off some animal’s food. Second, there’s cougar and bear up here. Not to mention that hunting party or ten more—”
“All right. You made your point. I will walk behind you.”
“I’ll give you a choice of supper. Fish or grouse?”
“Both.”
“Both? You’re a greedy woman.”
“Just a very hungry one, Luke.”
Domini started walking, remembered what he said, and waited for him to go first. When he didn’t immediately join her, she looked back to find him standing near the fire. Her gaze clashed with the full power of his dark, intense stare.
“Food, Luke. That’s all I’m hungry for.”
“Pity.” The corner of his mouth curled up, the smile cynical. Her gaze was wide, wary, vulnerable. His smile faded and left him with a vague, disturbed, itchy sense of having violated some imagined line. “Let’s go.”
He showed her how to find bitterroot, an elegantly shaped pink flower without any leaves that grew low to the ground. With his knife he dug up the root, a white, thin fiber about the size of a sliver of wood. Cleaning one off on his shirt, he offered Domini a bite.
When she took it from his hand, Luke was struck anew with the gift of her trust. He watched her bite off and chew a small piece, laughing at the face she made.
“It’s like a raw turnip, bitter, but not unpleasant. But I wouldn’t want to live on it.”
“Just as well you won’t have to. Com’on, we’ll have a stew pot if I’ve caught grouse in my snare.”
He filled her shawl with wild onions and parsley, the starchy root of elk thistle to be roasted, the bulb of the mariposa lily, which the Indians considered a great delicacy.
In the forest again, Luke showed her how to find a large, fleshy mushroom. When Domini did as he asked and lifted it to her nose, there was a faint but exquisite scent of apricots coming from the bright orange fungus.
“Chanterelles,” he said when she asked what they were. “Some French trapper showed me them. Makes even the toughest game taste good.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Domini followed him to the edge of the woods, where he walked until they were halfway around the lake. This time she didn’t need Luke to point out what they could pick. Huckleberries were just starting to ripen.
She ate the first handful she picked, licking the tart juice from her lips. “I want to pick more, Luke, but they’ll get crushed in my shawl.”
He stripped off his shirt and made another cloth sling. “Here, pick to your heart’s content. I’ve got a yen for something sweeter.”
She eyed the knotted shirt he slid over her shoulder. If she turned around … but she wasn’t going to look at him.
Whisper My Name Page 9
