Chapter 17
Shane, Racing the Storm
The wind struck with the force of a mallet. His horse stretched his neck out, ears pinned as they galloped behind Jimmy and Blue. Shane kept a grip on Mrs. Davis’ reins and the older woman held onto her saddle for all she was worth. Despite their breakneck pace, she did a remarkable job of staying in the saddle.
Cold air turned frigid had nothing on the slicing force of ice impacting against his skin. The clothes protected him, but the consistent strikes acted like body blows triggering his strength and it took all of his focus to keep from ripping the reins in half—or worse, hurting the horses. Measuring the force he pressed against the horse’s sides meant he kept his heels down and used the stirrups for balance rather than gripping with his thighs.
He couldn’t see more than the back of the horses in front of him, and he had to trust the animals to follow. Believing Jimmy knew where he led them didn’t require a leap of faith. The older man hadn’t led him wrong, not once. Mrs. Davis let out a strangled cry, and Shane glanced back to see her fighting to hold onto the pommel as well as the shawl she had wrapped around her head.
“Let it go,” he told her. “Hang on to the horse.”
Ahead of him in the twilight of the storm was an oblong shape. Jimmy and Blue cut left. Staying with him, he ignored the frenzied burst vibrating beneath his skin. No one had time for him to lose control. Irritation flared, and he poured that energy into focusing on his tasks. Bless Mrs. Davis, she’d listened to him and stayed astride her horse.
His mare dropped from their frenzied run as the horses in front of her did. Steam from her nostrils filled the air and her chest labored with her frantic breaths. The lack of speed didn’t help the shards of ice slamming into him. Even the mare bobbed her head with frenetic grace. A gape mouthed entrance appeared—a cave.
So grateful for the respite of the storm, his mare gave him no argument about following Jimmy and Blue inside the darkness.
“Stop there and strip the horses,” Jimmy shouted over the noise. The ice hitting the rock wall made a tremendous amount of racket. Dismounting as soon as he was in, he helped Mrs. Davis down and she limped deeper into the cave without any encouragement.
The animals had just done a hell of a run, pushing their endurance. The exertion combined with the cold and the sweat wasn’t good for them. Once the tack was off, he dug into a pack and pulled out the rags they’d made of some of their clothes. After tossing a handful to Jimmy, he went to work rubbing the horses down. Their breathing calmed and trembling began. They had to keep the animals warm and dry before the sweat set in a chill.
Deeper in the cave, light flared and Shane paused to squint at the hint of flame.
“Wood in the packs,” Jimmy explained. “Blue’s idea.” He shook his head and went back to his work. How she’d thought to pack wood onto the packhorse, he had no idea. That it was dry enough to light was a miracle. Getting the horses settled, they moved them to the side and covered them with blankets. They could make do with the fire—most of them except for Blue had enough clothes on.
Huddled in Jimmy’s coat, she kept her palms toward the fire. Mrs. Davis had taken a seat next to her and leaned in to the warmth. They were all soaked. Outside, the ice storm continued to pound. If the town of Broken Sky had been more hospitable, they might have still been in town under shelter when the storm hit.
Not stopping once the horses were settled, Jimmy went to work on the tack. “We need to get this dried, too. Unpack the food for the ladies.” He paused and glanced at Blue then said something in that unintelligible language they’d been speaking all week. She nodded and replied in somber even tones.
“Do I want to know?” Then remembering the presence of the older lady, he added, “Do I need to know?”
“I wanted to make sure we had enough fuel. The fire won’t last long, so we’ll need to make do with what we can and then we’ll bunk down in here tonight. Take care of the gear, I want to explore the cave, see how far back it goes.”
Jimmy didn’t wait for an answer. Using what was left of the dry rags, he rubbed down the leather, then freed the saddle blankets and set them facing the fire. Likely wouldn’t do much, but better than leaving them sopping wet next to the leather. Pulling the rest of the supply bags over, he found the food Mrs. Davis packed for them and handed the baskets to them. Two blankets remained and he gave one to the older woman and the second to Blue.
“Nia'ish—thanks you.” The awkward cadence of the words didn’t diminish the kindness in them.
Shane squatted briefly and rubbed his hands together then turned them to the fire. He was warm enough, and the energy surges inside seemed to have abated. Maybe he was getting better at controlling himself. “You’re welcome. Not sure what the Cheyenne is for that.”
Blue placed a hand over her heart then extended her arm and passed her hand out as though waving.
“And I don’t understand the sign language, either.” He had a steep learning curve and school had never been his strong suit.
“She is Cheyenne?” Mrs. Davis asked, and despite the paleness of her features, she seemed to be handling the soaked clothing and precarious situation well.
“Yes, ma’am.” Then because it seemed the natural next question. “I don’t speak her language as well as she does English.”
“Little white words,” Blue added.
“She means—”
“—she understands a little white man words.” Mrs. Davis smiled and Shane glanced away. She seemed a nice enough lady, but her mouth did a odd thing on one side and when she smiled it looked even worse.
Jimmy hadn’t returned yet, so he pulled open what was left of the bedrolls and tried to lay them near the fire. Outside the ice continued to pelt the ground, with the breeze pushing in wafts of cold draft. Without the fire, they could very well freeze tonight.
“We need more wood.” After pacing to the mouth of the cave, he peered into the gloom. Visibility remained low, and Mrs. Davis mare stomped her feet and began to move restlessly. Blue rose, leaving her blanket and went to the horse. Whatever she murmured to it, settled it down. Retreating from the chill, he faced Mrs. Davis who stared at Blue with an odd expression. “Everything all right, ma’am? She’s calming your horse.”
“Is she? How remarkable.” Nothing friendly lived in her tone, then her expression smoothed and she nodded. “Thank you for explaining to me. You should come eat. A growing boy like you needs food.”
“Ladies first.” He could make do with little and had done so before. Mrs. Davis didn’t need to be wavering in the saddle and Jimmy put Blue before everything—and she saved my life and forgave me when I hurt her. He didn’t object to taking care of her at all.
Blue took her time, moving from horse to horse and each settled under her touch. He didn’t know if animal speech was a gift like Miss Jo’s or if it was because she was a shaman or maybe it was something to do with being an Indian. Mr. Micah could calm horses, and he wasn’t an Indian.
Jimmy returned and said, “I have an idea. You up for moving some rocks?”
“I can.” He spared a glance at Mrs. Davis, then gave Jimmy a questioning look. Were they going to let her know what they could do?
A short, negative shake of head was the answer. Jimmy spoke in the strange language to Blue and she answered in softer syllables. He said something further then nodded to the fire and she sighed, leaving the horses to return to the blanket. Only when she reached for it did Shane see the shivers.
She needed warmer clothes, the doeskin dress didn’t provide much coverage and Jimmy’s coat wasn’t enough. They could go through the packs, loan her some of their clothes. They’d dwarf her and they weren’t clean, but dirty and warm was definitely better.
“Let’s go,” the older man said, leading him deeper into the cave. It was damn dark, but Jimmy didn’t seem to slow down and Shane couldn’t see a damn thing even squinting.
“You’re going to have to point it out to
me.”
Pausing, Jimmy said, “I’m going to put your hand on my shoulder. We’re going to haul a couple of bigger rocks up there to brace the fire. I found some old roots here, must be some trees up top. If we can tear them out, we’ll have more fuel to keep the fire going. And there are smaller rocks here, we put them in the fire…”
“Heat them up, then use the hot rocks inside the blankets to keep the heat going.”
“That’s the idea. We’re going to make an oven of sorts. We need something. We’ll pull the horses in a little deeper, and then one of us needs to stay awake to watch the fire…and Mrs. Davis.”
“You’re worried about an older lady?” The idea didn’t sit well with him,
“We don’t know her and until we do, we don’t trust her.”
Still following Jimmy, Shane was grateful for the hand because the man stopped abruptly, then moved his hands to a larger rock.
“Try to roll it when you get out there.” It took them some time, but Shane gripped the boulder and the strength he’d been channeling elsewhere surged. Oddly, it came without the rush of anger. He braced the large rock and lifted. Then with Jimmy giving him instructions, he navigated toward the mouth of the cave.
Once in the main chamber and he lowered the rock. The push shove made a grating noise, but he got the rock around in front of the fire. Jimmy followed with more stones, smaller ones. He knelt next to Blue and piled the rocks in front of her. His swift frown took in the lowering flames and the huddled women. Mrs. Davis had pressed closer to Blue and she’d allowed it, but Shane didn’t miss the flash of the knife attached to Blue’s hip.
Hurrying, Shane and Jimmy returned to the blackness in the back of the cave. “Are we sure there are no bears in here?” Didn’t they like caves?
“That’s why I checked for them first.” The answer didn’t quite give him the reassurance he was seeking. “And no, no bears.”
“Good.” The second boulder was a little heavier than the first, but he helped Jimmy rip out the roots he wanted. The exercise helped as the strength flooded through his limbs. Every rip, lift, and pull warmed him further erasing the cold.
“You good?” Jimmy asked after gathering the roots together in a pile.
“Yes.” Surprised the hell out of him, as well. His strength always involved pain before. While the ice pelting him hadn’t been pleasant, he didn’t meet the strength with agony or reticence. Mrs. Davis gave them an odd look when he shoved rolled the second boulder out.
The larger rocks angled perfectly, and the area where the women sat was measurably warmer after he got them in place as windbreaks. A tiny pan sat propped on the rocks next to the fire, filled with rapidly melting ice. They were making a hot drink. Jimmy added more of the green wood to the fire, it turned smoky, but the cold air out side dragged out the smoke.
Settling in next to Blue, Jimmy sat her in his lap and wrapped his arms around her. Mrs. Davis wore a concerned look, but thankfully didn’t seem as cold. Shane didn’t fancy holding her at all. Squatting next to the fire, he helped spread the stones out evenly so they could warm.
“You should eat,” Mrs. Davis reminded him.
“I will ma’am. But ladies first, truly.”
“I had my share already,” she said. “The rest is for you good folk. I feel bad.”
“No need ma’am, it will be cold tonight,” Jimmy told her. “But we’ll manage.”
Yes, they could manage and hopefully the storm would pass before dawn. The horses followed him calmly as he moved them deeper into the cave and away from the entrance. They seemed warm enough and none showed any signs of shivering. Claiming the second pan, he took it out and filled it with ice. Better to melt it and give the horses a bit longer before water. The last thing they needed was a sick animal.
Near the fireside, Jimmy had pulled out one of the apples and Blue nibbled on it. Mrs. Davis stared into the fire, saying little. Poor woman was probably uncomfortable with them as she’d planned to be in Balch Spring. Shane shook his head, her choice as Sage would have said. He hoped Sage was doing well. Jimmy had told him once, Mr. Buck would check in on them during the journey and he’d slept every night waiting for some word of the ranch.
None had come. He hadn’t asked—well perhaps the Mr. Buck was busy or he’d spoken with Jimmy. It had been several weeks without real news. And we’ve done more in the last couple of weeks than all the weeks before. Ever since Jimmy diverted them to the hills where they found Blue.
Rubbing the back of his neck, Shane paced over to the fire. Finding a spot of rock without too much of a rough edge, he sat. Mrs. Davis immediately offered him some of the dried meat and cheese along with a generous portion of bread. The meal was cold and hard, but better than nothing.
After a while, she reached in to make the tea. Shane studied Blue and realized she was sound asleep, her head tucked against Jimmy’s shoulder. He had her completely wrapped up in his coat and blanket. “She’s better sleeping, I can keep her warmer this way.”
The food had a faint after taste, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. When Mrs. Davis poured hot liquid into the pot, the scent of chicory filled the cold cave. Real chicory, the kind they’d run out of a few days before.
“Bless you ma’am,” he said when she passed a tin cup to him. The second went to Jimmy. He took a small drink and declined the food when she offered it. “I’ve got some rabbits to skin in a while. I’ll set them to cooking after I’m sure Blue is warm enough.”
“Blue?” Mrs. Davis set the chicory pot near the fire to keep warm and used the last of the water in another tin cup with some herbs. “An unusual name. How long have you and your wife been together? If you don’t mind my asking.” The last seemed tacked on as after thought.
“It’s a lovely name and as to the second, it’s really none of your concern if it’s all the same.”
Shane gaped at Jimmy. He appreciated not trusting the woman if Jimmy wanted to insist, but rude to a lady was wrong. “I believe Mrs. Davis was only curious.”
The older man’s face went unreadable as he stared at Shane. “I don’t care.”
“It’s all right,” the woman said. “I was being intrusive, and you folk have been kind. I’ll drink my tea and perhaps we can all get some sleep.” Though the last sounded quite doubtful.
Outside, the ice continued to fall. Surprisingly, Mrs. Davis did exactly as she said she would. She finished her tea, set her tin cup aside and rolled up in her blanket and laid on the rock as though it were a bed.
“You want anymore?” Shane reclaimed the pot with the chicory coffee in it.
“Go ahead.” Jimmy rolled the end of Blue’s braid between his thumb and forefinger, his gaze on the cave mouth. “Get some sleep too, if you can. I’ll keep watch on the fire.”
Arguing with Jimmy seemed pointless so Shane settled in as close to the fire as he could. Even the little bit of heat was welcome. His coat wasn’t much of a ward against the heat, but he wasn’t taking a blanket from the horses or the women, so he could make do.
Sleep swept him away, and then peeled back with agonizing slowness.
“You son of a bitch,” Jimmy swore.
Fighting to open his eyes proved more difficult than moving boulders.
“That may very well be true,” said a deep masculine voice. One Shane didn’t recognize. He struggled harder against the bonds of sleep. “Should have trusted your instincts sharpshooter. Too bad you didn’t.”
One eyelid finally cracked open and the blurred scene in front of him made no sense. Who was the man with the crooked face. He held both of Jimmy’s Colts in his hands, and he wasn’t pointing them at Jimmy, but at Blue.
“I’m going to kill you.” The raw heat in the declaration spurred Shane to fight to get his eyes open.
“You said that before,” the man said. “Which reminds me.” He slammed the butt of the pistol across Jimmy’s face. Pitching sideways, Jimmy hit the dirt and blood trickled from his forehead. He went still and anger flooded Sha
ne, but he couldn’t move.
Even keeping his eye open hurt. The stranger turned back to where Blue lay prone on the blanket. Why hadn’t she woken up? What was going on?
His eyes were closing even as he struggled against the strange exhaustion. The man pivoted to look at him. Shane didn’t recognize him, but the left side of his mouth drooped in a familiar fashion.
Mrs. Davis?
Was he a relative? Where was the other woman? She wasn’t in his line of sight.
Darkness crashed again.
He blinked. Harsh light slanted through the cave entrance and stung his eyes. His whole body hurt, and with pain came a surge. Jimmy.
Sitting, he jerked his gaze around the cave. The horses were gone. Jimmy was gone. Blue was gone.
Rising, Shane spun in a slow circle. The gear was still there, most of it, and Mrs. Davis was gone. Rage collided with fear and he staggered to the entrance. Ice slicked the rock and he had to dig his fingers into the side. The stone cracked under the pressure. The plain they’d crossed at a dead run the day before stretched out before him, tauntingly empty.
No way Jimmy had abandoned him. Faint flickers of memory played over his mind’s eye. The stranger in the cave, his attack on Jimmy, and Jimmy’s bloody forehead.
Shane rubbed his face and pounded his fist against the wall. More cracks split the stone. He was going to throw up—and even as he had the thought, he doubled over and emptied his stomach. Straightening, he squinted into the too bright morning sun then down at the icy path leading from the cave.
Hoofprints had cracked the ice.
No supplies. No horse. No Jimmy.
First thing he had to do was find a horse, then he’d find Jimmy and Blue.
Let them be alive… Because whoever that stranger was, he needed to die. Shane staggered a step, and the ice shattered beneath his steps. How could he still be strong and weak as a kitten at the same time? He’d gotten into the apple liquor once, and he’d felt the same way the next morning.
He hadn’t seen the appeal then and even less now. His head throbbed and his vision wobbled. What about Mrs. Davis?
The Quick and the Fevered Page 26
