by James Wymore
"Is she kind and friendly like you?" Elwood asked. His eyebrows were raised enough to make Macey blush all the way.
"Don't be silly. Sisters are as close as can be."
"Not your older sister," Bowen cut in, between praises and curses for the goats. "She doesn't have the magic."
"Hush," Macey said. "It's true, though, Jewel's more like me."
"She has the magic?" Elwood asked.
"It's nothing so grand," Macey said. "What we do is really just mercy. Our mother had real magic. She could make a fire without flint, and drain the poison out of bad meat. Some say if Aunt Lanny had been there, mother wouldn't have died after Jewel. Aunt Lanny bears it as a terrible burden, but she's often said she loves Jewel as her own and…"
In that instant, Elwood, searching habitually through the woods above the small cliff they sloshed next to, saw the green glint of a mountain lion's eyes.
Chapter Four
Move!" Elwood barked. He grabbed both their collars and burst from the sleigh like a coiled spring. Taken by surprise, Macey screamed. The three of them tumbled into the freezing snow, just as the giant cat pounced on the nearest goat, bringing it down in one fluid motion.
The second goat panicked and turned off the far side of the road. Then the sleigh ran into the scattering of animals and flipped.
As metal bent and wood crunched, the whole mess broke and tumbled off the side of the road and into the pine trees. The great predator stood, unharmed, in the wake of the crashed vehicle. It looked from the pile of broken goats to the three fallen people, taking stock of the situation. It roared to show huge fangs, and began approaching the humans.
Elwood leaped up, pulling the barbed hunting knife from his belt. Staring deep into the monster's eyes, he matched the ferocity he saw there. His mind knew already to go for eyes, throat, neck, or heart—whichever opportunity presented itself first. In the pause while opponents sized each other up, he pulled the mitten off his sword arm and wrapped his fingers tightly around the leather grip. His heart raced so fast his fingers didn't feel the cold.
Deep into the winter, Elwood knew the hungry cougar only understood this as a territorial battle. A foe challenged the cougar's right to any food in its territory.
"Elwood, no!" Macey called. Bowen put a snowy glove gently over her mouth to quiet her. The lion glanced at the sound of this new prey, before returning full attention to the only creature daring to defy it.
Elwood knew this all-or-nothing game well. He could not barter the goats for the lives of his companions. And this late after fall, with so many animals in hibernation, an old mountain lion would not have anything else to fight for. Time ran slow. The lion would pounce. Now, it only remained to wait for the beast to make its choice. Elwood edged slowly to the side, drawing the attention away from the panting voices behind him.
There was no tensing of muscles or twitching of eyes. When the cougar leaped, it was a blur from the first instant. Elwood knew the broad claws would swipe both directions, making it impossible to dodge. Instead, he dropped to the ground and slashed up. Just before the cat's back paws crushed him, he rolled.
The cougar crashed down, recovering quickly. Ignoring Elwood, it prepared to leap on the older couple. Jumping up from the ground, the soldier grabbed at the beast's ear. But his mitten had no grip, and the cat quickly twisted. The moment the great paw crashed into his ribs, Elwood sunk the curved knife deep into the cat's neck. As he fell away from the monster, Elwood saw the great lion roll to rid itself of the barbed device. The knife twisted before it came loose and opened the jugular. Staggering up, against ribs aching so much that he wondered if the claws were still stuck between them. Elwood marched forward, until his body was between the thrashing monster and the people who meant everything to him.
Steam and blood poured from the beast's wound in equal parts, melting and reddening the snow all around. It roared and howled in turns. In a few seconds, the lion went still and Elwood dropped to his knees. It would be some time before his breathing returned to normal. Macey had him lie back in the snow, while Bowen ran to check on the goats.
"You saved us," Macey said. "You're a great hero."
"It was no more than I owed." Elwood coughed, each spasm bringing a fresh lance of pain in his side.
Macey unbuttoned his quilted red coat. "I'm sorry, but we have to see if you're bleeding. Oh my."
Elwood couldn't see the huge purple bruises he knew were welling up there.
"It'll be okay," she said. "Nothing to put salve on."
"Pepper stew, then?" He tried to laugh, but then just shut his eyes and let his head fall into the snow.
"The rails are good," Bowen said. "We lost one goat and the sleigh is beyond repair. But that's not the worst of it."
"There's worse?" Macey asked.
"All your cakes and chickens are ruined."
Macey started to laugh so hard that tears began to freeze her eyes. "You old dog, get a fire going. We gotta warm Elwood up. It's not far to Aunt Lanny's now. Maybe half an hour's walk in summer. Much too far to go back to our place. You can go ahead and send somebody for us."
"I'm okay," Elwood said. "Let's just get going before wolves start looking for what the cat left behind."
"I can rig some of the flat wood across the rails," Bowen said, scratching his beard. "Maybe we can ski behind one goat?"
"Did that fall knock the sense out of you?" Macey asked.
"He's right," Elwood said. "In snow this deep, we'd be hard pressed to walk any distance."
"You can't walk at all like that," Macey said.
"Sure I can." He put on a false smile and slowly forced himself to stand against the pain.
"You're both crazy. Whatever else, we're not leaving without that pelt."
"Are you kidding me?" Bowen said with his eyes wide. "We just escaped death, we're stranded in the middle of the nowhere, up to our knees in snow, and you want to stop to skin a cat? We got plenty of goat skins at home."
"Exactly. Goat skin everywhere. I'm sick of it. Now you march over and skin that beast before I give you some bruises to match Elwood's."
"Okay, okay." Bowen put his hands up. "You want the teeth, too? Maybe the heart for some witchcraft?"
The sun was setting and the temperature dropping fast when the three of them finally arrived at Macey's family home. Nearing the top of the hill, the goat almost didn't make it. With Bowen crouching up front and sitting on the rolled up pelt, they managed to get the makeshift sled to the front gate. Elwood's ribs ached so badly by the time they arrived, that he couldn't even smile or remember names. There were several small cabins all near each other in a clear meadow. The smaller buildings were wood, like Bowen's. The larger one in the center had stone and mortar walls.
"Is this still Winigh, or some other town?" Elwood asked.
"Winigh is all the homesteads scattered through these mountains," Bowen said. "The only other town on this peninsula was Southwall."
"Was?"
"Before…" Bowen's voice trailed off. Elwood wanted to ask him more, but he knew this wasn't the time.
Women of all ages began pouring out of the large lodge. They hugged everybody, except Elwood, and cried and laughed. Soon after introductions, they began fussing over Elwood. He couldn't remember most of the introductions because of the pain. They had on leather and woven clothes, worn but strong, to match their mountain lives. Most of the men had beards and hats. None of the women were introduced as Macey's sister. Macey told the story over and over of how he bravely killed the cougar to save them all. Elwood was surprised how the cat grew in size each time she told it, despite the evidence of the pelt.
When they finally started into the house, Bowen released his goat into the care of some boys. Elwood said, "That was great work, cobbling together this sled from the pieces of rubble."
"Nothing like slaying a cougar," Bowen laughed.
"But more important," Elwood said. "Every one of these buildings has a chute for melting snow up against
the chimney on the outside. That's all your work, right?"
"Once in a while, I get to tinkering with things," Bowen said. "Right now, I'd like to get some food."
"But we lost the cakes and chickens."
"That's just because Macey likes to be a part of things. They'll have food here for fifty." Bowen pulled the hunting knife out of the pelt and handed it over. He'd cleaned it. "Something tells me you should keep this handy."
Elwood stuck it back in the wide sheath still strapped to his belt. "Thanks."
"Strange you'd leave it after a fight like that."
"Didn't seem important." Elwood shrugged.
"Most soldiers would never forget something like that for one minute."
"Well, I've been forgetting a lot of things lately." He laughed and then winced in pain.
"That wasn't just any soldier I saw," Bowen said, hefting the rolled pelt.
Elwood reached into his mind and came back empty handed again. "I still can't remember." It didn't disappoint him anymore. He just accepted his recent memories as the only ones he would ever have.
"Seems like good odds you might not want to," Bowen observed. He put one hand on Elwood's shoulder and led them both into the warm yellow light streaming around the heavy wooden door.
The huge room buzzed with talk and the occasional song. They afforded Elwood a place of honor in the only padded chair. He knew Aunt Lanny just by wrinkles and white hair. Macey made sure he met Jewel. They looked like twins, with fourteen years between them. Elwood respected Macey too much to think of her in anything more than friendly terms. However, he found her sister interesting. He sensed depth beyond her pretty face. Despite the twinkle in her eyes, Jewel didn't stick around after the introductions. Elwood didn't mind, he found it hard to be cordial through the pain.
With two meals worth of savory meats and sweet pies filling him until his ribs ached, and a huge fire casting waves of heat at his face, Elwood drifted to sleep.
He woke early. The fire was only ash with tiny red coals now. The house was cool, but so many people were laying everywhere on the floor, it wasn't cold. Somebody, he suspected Macey, had slid him to the floor and wrapped him in a blanket without waking him. The wine wanted out now, but he had no idea where the outhouse would be and no interest in trying to navigate the throng of bodies without waking them.
He rolled to ease the pain in his side. Just then, two bright brown eyes popped open a few inches from his face.
He caught himself before making a startled sound. It was only Macey. Except in this light, she looked different. Was her face smaller? He whispered, "Macey?"
Beneath a pointed nose, a small smile curled. Then she shuffled back a little to give him some space. She must have seen the moment his mind made the connection because she let out a little giggle.
"Jewel," he corrected himself. "Right?"
"Right," she whispered. "I gave Macey my cottage. Whenever there's a big crowd, it's best for the married folk to have their own place."
There was a long pause. Elwood felt uncomfortable this close to somebody he didn't know. Jewel didn't seem to mind. Sometimes she looked into his eyes. Others she looked away or rested with her eyes closed. Elwood didn't know how long this would go on. He sensed her interest, but refused to be pulled into something artificial. He smiled anyway, not wanting to put her off. Eventually she stopped turning away. He couldn't remember staring this long into a woman's eyes without a single word. It made him uncomfortable. He felt somebody should say something. Yet he didn't want to be the first to back down. Even so small a contest drew him to find her more interesting.
"It's probably time to get people up," she eventually said. She rolled the other way, sat up, and stretched. She had a white blouse on. If he'd seen that first, he would have known it wasn't Macey, who never wore anything but red and purple. "Good morning," she beamed.
Elwood wagged his head as he joined everybody sitting up. How could so many cheerful people be in one place? Something told him he'd never seen anything like it before.
Jewel set a few teens to adding wood and stoking the fire back up. Others she sent after water, or out to help with chores. Elwood stayed on the floor, wrapped in a blanket, leaning against the wall. He watched everybody, but the only one he knew was Jewel. Quietly, without anybody else knowing, Jewel went about setting everything in motion. When eggs came in, she asked one of her cousins to cook them.
Elwood wondered if Macey would like having somebody else in charge for once. But when Macey came in, she took plates and utensils from Jewel and started setting the table like it was her own idea. When she finished, Macey came over to Elwood and started poking his ribs.
"That doesn't help," Elwood said, stifling a cough.
"But is it tender?"
"No, it's bruised. It hurts. A lot."
"I'm going to find some fabric to tie around it."
"I'm fine," Elwood insisted.
"Better let her work her magic," Bowen said as he walked up.
"I don't think it's magic," Elwood said absently, as he looked into the fire.
"You don't believe in magic?" Bowen asked.
"I can't remember what I believe in," Elwood said. "But I think medicine is better than magic. It works every time."
"Nothing works every time," Macey said. "But not believing in magic is the same as not believing in God."
Elwood shrugged. "Like I said, I don't remember what I believe in."
"Believing's got nothing to do with remembering," Bowen declared. "If you heard it now and it doesn't ring true, then you probably didn't believe it before."
"Hush," Macey said. "Elwood's a good man. He just needs time to remember."
Elwood and Bowen exchanged a glance. Elwood didn't know if he deserved her faith.
Chapter Five
Later in the day, Elwood found himself alone with Jewel in the kitchen. The huge oven had several breads and pies baking, so the air stayed hot. He'd wandered in to return a cup. A moment later, everybody else wandered out. He suspected this might keep happening. "You could have sent one of the boys to bring that in for you. No need to walk all the way here," Jewel said as she took it from him.
Elwood looked back to the big room he'd been in, and guessed it was about six steps away. "I wanted to get up and move around."
"The men are going out hunting," she said. "Do you feel like joining them?"
"I don't think I'd be much good with a bow today," he said as he held his ribs demonstratively. She reached over to touch where he indicated. His instincts told him to shy away from the impending pain. But another part of his mind wanted to feel her touch him. He held fast.
He barely felt her fingers as they brushed his shirt. Surprisingly, he felt a cooling that eased some of the pain. She said, "You must be skilled with a bow, though." She still held his cup with the other hand.
"I've managed to bring in a few birds over the past months." He wanted to ask how she did it. Probably some kind of magic? He thought it might be wrong to ask her to do it again.
"Did you have to learn that as part of your soldier training?"
"I'm not sure."
"Macey said you had a terrible accident and can't remember anything," Jewel said. She gave him a look of sympathy. "How terrible that must be."
"I'm used to it," he said. For a moment he thought she was going to try and touch his head, too. Then she put both her hands on the cup. He continued, "I think it would have been more terrible for you than for me, though."
"Why?"
"Because you have such a wonderful family. Everybody's so close. I don't remember, but I'm sure I've never seen or felt like this before."
"Do you remember feelings then?"
"Maybe. I don't really know."
"I'm sure you had a family, too. Everybody does." She set the cup down and turned back to him, arranging the white bonnet on her hair.
"I must have. But some things feel new and others familiar. Sleeping on a hard floor by the fire, that seems fa
miliar. But a big group family like this, that feels strange."
"Good strange, or bad strange?"
"Good," he said. He held her gaze again, unable to turn away for all the twisting in his stomach. "I never understood how Macey got to be the way she is until I came here."
Jewel didn't answer that. She just looked away. He didn't know if comparing her to Macey put her off. It was obvious Macey was doing everything in her power to throw the two of them together. He'd seen enough to know Jewel would put a stop to it if she didn't approve.
"How many people live here, normally?" he asked.
"Usually eighteen in the several houses," Jewel said, "but everybody eats here."
"And you run the whole household?"
"No, not me," she said with false modesty. "Aunt Lanny runs it all."
"Where's she now?"
"I'm not sure. She doesn't cook anymore."
"And you do?"
"Sometimes. There are always plenty of people to help with cooking, when it comes time. Lots of younger, married women eager to do that. But you don't seem the type to take an interest in cooking." She looked back at him. Was she sad? Happy? He couldn't read her expression.
"Why not?"
"Weren't you a soldier?"
"I was. But I don't remember anything about it. Maybe I was a cook." He tried once more to dust off the old memories without success.
"Do you wish you could go back?"
"No. That's the most surprising thing. I don't feel a strong sense of loss."
"What are you going to do now?"
"I've been helping Bowen, mostly."
She nodded and began organizing cups and bowls on the log wooden table against one wall.
"So what do you mean by younger, married women like to do the cooking?" He reached over to help her and their hands touched. They stopped a moment, then they pulled back. Something sour told him to retreat. How could he like and fear her at the same time?
