Garrett yanked his blade free of the sheath on his belt and ran toward Simon. He rounded the bend as a large mountain lion tugged his friend’s body into the vegetation off the trail.
Without thinking, he followed. The dim light of the new morning did nothing to help as he fought his way through the brush.
Blade out in front, he leapt into a thick patch of the white-tipped bear grass that dotted the ground beneath the trees. He could hear Simon’s screams in the trees. Although the terror of the sound made his blood pump faster, the cries meant he was still alive.
Early morning light began to slide over the scene around him. He tried not to panic as he followed the bright red trail of blood.
A roar from the mountain lion sounded, and then silence.
His blood pumped like a runaway train, and he ran ever faster. The stench of blood and animal filled his nostrils, and he knew he was close.
The cougar screeched and hunched over in the grass. A twig snapped under Garrett’s shoe, and the animal turned a predatory stare in his direction. Simon moved his arm as he lay beneath the animal’s chest, and relief loosened the knot in his stomach. He was alive. God, what would he have done if he had lost Beth and Simon in one fateful night? He’d fight to the death to protect his friend.
The cat stepped off Simon, and faced him full on.
Garrett adjusted the blade in his hand so his grip wouldn’t fail him when he tried to kill the beast.
With only a flinch of the cat’s tanned fur as warning, it attacked.
Garrett sliced the blade through the air as the mountain lion bore down on him. The blade vibrated as it pierced the animals shoulder, but it didn’t stop him. Garrett stumbled and fell backward onto the ground as the cat descended. Pinning him down.
His eyes were hollow and soulless. A hungry gleam shone in the black slits of his pupils as he bent toward Garrett’s jugular.
Garrett’s muscles strained with the animal’s weight. For a split second he felt like giving up and letting the cat take him. The deep groan rumbled in the cougar’s chest as he crushed Garrett beneath his massive body.
It felt as if each of his ribs were one more twitch away from snapping like dry tinder.
The cougar stopped, and his ears flicked. Garrett heard a small thud at the same moment the animal’s fur twitched. Another thud, and the cougar jerked toward Simon.
Taking the distraction, Garrett reached up and, with his fist clenched around the hilt of his knife, sliced as deep as he could through the mountain lion’s neck.
The cat shuddered and slumped over him as warm blood poured over his face and chest from the mortal wound.
“Simon!” he shouted and shoved the animal. After a few minutes of struggling, he managed to slide the cat’s body over enough to wiggle out from his dead weight. “Simon?”
“I’m alive.” Pain infused his friend’s voice. “I think.”
Garrett leapt to his feet and ran to his friend, running his hand over his body to check the injuries. “You’re covered in blood. Where are you hurt?”
Simon flinched when Garrett ran his hand over his shoulder. He screamed in agony, “There!”
A low growl split the air like a whip, and both men snapped their heads to the trees lining the other side of the opening where a fearsome brown bear lumbered out of the shrouded dark of the forest.
“He must have smelled the blood. We have to go.” Garrett glanced down at the blood soaking Simon’s shirt. “Lean on me. We have to go. Now!”
He struggled to stand with Simon leaning most of his weight on his shoulders. His body jerked with each unsteady leap they took as they did what they could to run toward the river. Animals were unpredictable, especially the ones who searched for blood.
They picked their way through the forest and emerged on the small animal path they’d taken earlier. Garrett turned them so they followed the river upstream. “Let’s go.”
Simon struggled to talk while he panted, “I don’t think he’s following us. I think he came for the mountain lion.”
“Let’s hope.” Garrett moved off the trail and spotted the bateau tied to the rock where he left it. “There’s the boat. Get in. I’ll row us to the other side of the river, and check your injuries. Then we’ll figure out what to do next.”
His friend’s head wobbled on his shoulders when he attempted to nod. Garrett gave a quick prayer that all would be well with Simon. It had to be.
Chapter 13
Beth’s nose itched worse than it had when she’d been ten and Simon had stuck the Chickweed in her face, but she couldn’t move until the large brown animal left. In the early morning sun, she stared at the rotted shelter she’d stayed in during the night, and cringed. Bugs of some kind skittered about hollowed out trails and down the surface of the decomposing, cavernous trunk. The warmth from her body fused with the elk’s body heat. If it wasn’t for the animal’s chosen bed last night right in front of her natural shelter, she would have died during the cold dark hours, but the warmth from the elk’s body filled the small space and warmed her like a blanket. God had certainly answered her prayers.
A tremor shot through the animal’s skin, and it leapt to its feet and ran. Flashes of brown flew by past the opening as the rest of the herd followed.
She wiggled her arm out from under her body and flexed her hand. The numbness she’d felt all night turned into painful pin-pricks as she worked the blood back through her fingers. Now that it was light, she could finally try to pick her way back to camp.
A twig snapped, and she stopped in her tracks, and listened. A squirrel skittered from the ground and shot up a tree. She relaxed.
The sun sliced through the leaves to her left, but the large gap in the canopy of trees the river provided would allow her to catch her bearings and figure out which way to go.
She waded shin-high into the water, not daring to go farther. She craned her neck to see upstream. The familiar peak of the hill across the lake from camp was dark against the cloud-sprinkled sky. She faced the mountain and mentally calculated the distance to camp from the peak, and then turned in the approximate direction. If her calculations were correct, she could cut through the forest and walk straight to camp, as long as she didn’t stray from her straight line. If that didn’t work, she would back track and follow the river, which would take a lot longer, judging by the amount of time she floated last night.
Beth studied the sun to try to gauge the direction she would take. With any luck, she would be there by dinner.
The trees enclosed her in shadows as she picked her way deeper into the forest. Each creak, every crack or thud that sounded, sent fear sliding down to the pit of her stomach, but she knew it was nothing but the voice of the forest.
She walked until her legs ached.
Two, maybe three hours had passed before she stopped to gauge her direction. She checked behind her. The path she’d taken seemed straight enough. She should be hitting familiar terrain soon.
The ground beneath her shifted when she stepped onto an animal trail that descended the hill. Pebbles cascaded to the bottom of the ravine as her foot slipped. She landed on her backside and followed the pebbles.
Sticks jabbed into the meaty part of her butt, and she struggled to stay upright as she tumbled down to the bottom to land in a trickling creek. Water splashed in her face. She stood and cleared the droplets from her eyes. She slowly climbed out of the water and circled around to the thickest part of the bank, but she couldn’t quite make out where her straight line to camp had been.
With one last look up the hill, she made the decision to try to make her way to the river and follow it upstream. Was anyone even searching for her? Her brother surely was, but what about Garrett? He was probably relieved to be rid of her. She’d done nothing but cause him unnecessary strife, but he’d still allowed her to stay and even protected her…or tried to, anyway.
It made her feel even guiltier for lying to him.
She followed beside the stream until the hills on either side of her began to narrow and close in. The once gentle incline of the mounds turned steep and difficult to traverse, but she could see the stream begin to open up just before the water’s path bent around the hill.
The freeing sounds of sloshing water reached her ears.
“Oh thank God, the river,” she said to the heavens and picked up speed, taking care over the hazardous terrain. She drew close to the bend. The trees echoed with the sound of an animal snorting.
She froze.
Everything about this forest made her want to cry. Last night she’d drained all of her gumption. All of the determination she’d come to the logging camp with. She wanted to give up. Let her tears sweep her away into a sea of death. She didn’t think she could take much more. She glanced around to find a place to hide before the animal spotted her. The sounds grew closer, so she ran with difficulty up the steep hill.
“Ms. Elizabeth?” a familiar voice called. Beth’s overworked leg muscles cried in relief and she stopped climbing to wheel around.
“Wall? Oh thank God!” Tears filled her eyes, and she stumbled toward the riverman as he stopped the workhorse in the center of the creek. He leapt down and water splashed onto her shirt. He scooped her up and she nearly collapsed with the exhaustion she’d been suppressing for the last few days. “How did you know where I was?”
“We’ve been searching the riverbank and forest since last night.” He slung her onto the saddle and mounted behind her, turning the horse toward the river. “What happened out there, Ms. Elizabeth?”
“Wait, you called me Elizabeth. You know?”
“Everyone does. When you went missing, Garrett and Simon told us everything.”
“Are they upset?”
“No. We were more worried about you out here alone. What happened?”
Beth spit out the story like it was a bad apple she’d taken a bite of. Warm tears stung her eyes, but she took a deep breath to stop them from falling. The knowledge that she could once again act like a woman sent all the emotions suppressed throughout the last few weeks rolling around deep inside her. “Why would Luther do this to me?”
“Jealous maybe? You did get the spot on the Devil May Cares that he’s been pining for since he first started at Big Mountain.”
“Perhaps.” Beth stared at the one strand of tan hair in the horse’s black mane. Luther’s motives could have stemmed from jealousy, but what if it was something more? What if he was the second man from the platform?
The mouth of the creek came into view, and Wall turned the horse north to follow the river. They rode in silence for over an hour before a movement across the way caught her attention.
“Oh my God! Garrett,” she exclaimed and pointed to where Garrett trudged, bent over as he pulled the bateau up the river.
Garrett turned and signaled to them. The small movement seemed labored, and he plopped down on the riverbank. Beth fought to leap from the horse and run to him. Garrett wasn’t one to show weakness, yet here he could barely lift his arm. And it was all because of her.
Wall kicked the horse into a trot and drew even with Garrett as he sat on the bank across the river.
When she and Wall dismounted, Garrett stood and shouted, “I’m coming over.”
He studied the river and after a moment, entered the water. Beth stood, nerves bunched in the pit of her stomach as he waded through water chest deep, struggling to keep control of the bateau. The sight of him there, searching, made her want to give up and let her emotions take her. Cuddle in his arms and feel the warm embrace of comfort. Rest her head against the strength of his chest, and give him what little strength she had left in return.
Garrett emerged from the water a few feet upstream, and she let out a breath of relief, only to have an instant hole dug in her stomach. Her brother lay in a pool of blood at the bottom of the boat.
Garrett yanked it onto the bank near the horse, and she ran toward the vessel and kneeled next to it. Her heart started to beat fast when she spotted the long gashes across her brother’s body. “What happened?”
Garrett stepped closer. “Mountain lion. I did what I could for the wounds, but the bleeding is bad. We need to get him to camp, but we’re running out of daylight.”
Wall’s feet came into Beth’s peripheral vision on the other side of the boat, and she looked up at him. “How far downriver are we?”
Garrett gauged the distance by looking at the landscape. “A few hours walk downstream from the mouth of the river. Then another half an hour to camp.”
Wall turned to Garrett. “How close are we to where Braxton went in last summer?”
“Maybe twenty minutes downstream.”
“Can Simon ride?”
“With your help, maybe, but we need to fix his dressings first.” Garrett bent over Beth’s brother and opened the front of his shredded shirt. Scarlet blood oozed through the layers of cotton, and made her stomach heave with the need to vomit. She let the tears fall this time.
Wall shrugged out of his jacket and yanked off his plaid shirt, handing it to Garrett. He slipped the jacket back on as Garrett ripped the shirt into strips.
“Here, Beth.” Garrett handed her the pile of cloth. “Help me.”
She set the cloth down on a dry, clean spot in the bateau and leaned over to assist Garrett as he cut the wet bands from her brother.
Simon moaned, and blood trickled down his once handsome face, sending a ball of despair hurling into her stomach.
“I’m here.” Beth grabbed his hand as he rolled his head back and forth while Garrett worked to tie on the clean strips. Tears made her vision blurry, and she swiped at them with the back of her hand. “We’re going to get you to camp. Okay? Just hold on.”
Simon moaned again.
Once Garrett finished, he sat back on his heels. “I hope he can last the ride.”
“It’s our best option right now.” Wall held the workhorse steady. “He needs to get to Aunt June so she can care for him. Beth, come over here and hold the horse while we get him into the saddle, and then I’ll climb up behind him. We’ll tie him to the pommel if need be.”
Beth moved to the front of the horse and took the reins as the two men lifted her brother and gently maneuvered him onto the horse. He began to tip to the right and Garrett steadied him while Wall climbed up behind Simon and took the reins. He locked eyes with Beth. “We should be there in two hours. I’ll take care of him, promise. Aunt June will fix him right up.”
“Just get back to camp as soon as you can.” The horse started forward, and Beth stepped back and nodded. She felt like rocks smacked into her chest as her brother disappeared with Wall around a bend in the river.
She turned and looked through tear-filled eyes at Garrett, who stood next to the boat with her brother’s blood smeared across his pants.
“What do we do now?” she choked out.
In less than a heartbeat, he grabbed her up in his embrace, and she relaxed into his strength. The little gesture made her emotions open like the breaking of a logjam. She fought no more to hold back the sobs straining to be released. “We follow the river back to camp. We’re probably going to have to spend one more night out here, but we can stop early and make a fire.”
She nodded numbly into his chest.
He smoothed the spiked tendrils of her hair and stood quiet until she pulled back. Wiping a tear from her cheek, he then grabbed her hand and urged her to follow him to the boat.
Garrett tipped the boat to the side, and her brother’s blood trailed down into the blue water. He adjusted the bateau so she could climb in and motioned toward the seat. “Come. We need to get moving.”
* * * *
Garrett stoked the fire and studied Beth. She sat motionless across the pit. His heart sank in
his chest, and he prayed that Simon would get to camp in time and pull through. He’d forced back tears himself when Beth kneeled next to her brother, but like all men of his ilk, he couldn’t show emotion of any sort, even if he wanted to.
Beth shivered so he moved close enough to let his warmth calm her, at least that’s what he hoped would happen. There was a vulnerability inside her that she tried to hide with a tough and determined manner—a trait he found endearing.
“Why would Luther try and kill me? Do you think he’s behind the other incidences?”
“What?”
“Luther. Do you think he’s behind the other accidents?”
“Luther did this?” He thought back to the meeting before he left down the river. Luther had said he’d watched her on the raft, but didn’t say anything about seeing Beth go down the river. Why would he say anything if he was the one to send her down?
“He said you wanted to see me out there. Next thing I knew I was floating in the middle of the lake toward the river. I rode it until the surrounding logs were spaced out enough that it was safe to get off and swim to the bank.”
The vein in Garrett’s head pulsed hard, echoing the heartbeat that had kicked up. What the hell was going on at his camp? When he got back, he’d kill the low-down snake that did this to Beth. It was like the man had no regard for the life of anyone else.
Beth shifted next to him. Her face, illuminated in a golden sheen, turned down in worry as her fingers ticked against her knee. Garrett reached out and wrapped them in his palm. “Simon’s going to be fine.”
The fire popped and sent a spark flying high. She nodded, but didn’t say a word. Didn’t pull away from him, but leaned into his shoulder and laid her head against him. “It was a mistake to come here.”
“Probably.” He switched her hand into his other one and put his arm around her shoulder to tug her closer. All of the teachings on etiquette screamed at him to put distance between them, but for the first time in his life, he couldn’t listen. He knew she needed him now more than ever. “But you’re here. You are the most stubborn, strongest woman I have ever had the pleasure to know. No other woman could have done what you have.”
White Water Passion Page 15
