Chase headed for the Firehole. He couldn’t get it out of his mind how pretty she was. Her innocent behavior turned him on more than any of the girls who’d flaunted themselves at him ever had.
******
Chase smelled food on his way up the meadow towards the large cabin. He wondered about the smaller cabin nestled between some lodgepoles a short distance to the right. That one looked like a one-room log structure. It had one small window cut into the logs, but it wasn’t covered with glass. It looked a lot older than the big cabin. He would have checked it out, but his nose guided him in the other direction. His stomach growled.
Never in his wildest dreams had he ever thought he’d be wearing buckskin pants and a cotton shirt that looked and felt like it was sewn entirely by hand. The pants fit snug around the waist and were several inches too short. It had taken him a few minutes to figure out how and where to tie the leather strings at the waist. If his cargos hadn’t been wet, he would have just put those back on.
He knocked softly on the door, and waited. The dog barked from inside.
“Come in.” Sarah’s melodious voice sent his heart into overdrive. What was that all about? He entered the cabin, and a new wave of food smells assaulted him.
“That smells really good,” he said, glancing around to find Sarah sitting in the rocking chair in the corner. She had, what looked like, an entire animal hide draped over her lap. The dog pranced around him, wagging his tail and panting. His mouth was partially open, tongue hanging out part ways, and he actually looked as if he was smiling.
“He wants you to pet him,” Sarah said.
“Huh?”
“Reach down and pet him between the ears. He likes that. Don’t they have dogs in the future?” He didn’t miss the mocking tone in her voice. She rose from the chair, and set the hide on it. Chase closed the door behind him and walked further into the cabin. Slowly, he reached out to the dog, which sniffed his hand. He patted it on the head, and the dog stood still.
“See? He really likes you.” Sarah smiled.
“How can you tell?”
“For one, he’s not growling at you. Dogs can always tell a good person from a bad one.”
“So, I’m a good person?” Chase raised his eyebrows. He wasn’t so sure he qualified for that distinction.
“Grizzly thinks so, and that’s good enough for me.” She wasn’t mocking this time.
“Well, I’m glad I’ve got the dog in my corner,” he answered. “Something smells really good.” He walked over to the pot hanging over the fire.
“I think it’s ready,” she said. Coming up beside him, she stirred the contents of the pot with a long wooden spoon.
“If you’ll get some bowls from the shelf over there,” she gestured to a spot above the workbench, “we can eat.”
Chase reached for two bowls, and held them out to her while she ladled food into them. He carried both to the table, and sat. She brought spoons.
“This is good. What is it?” Chase guessed it was some sort of stew. The meat and vegetables tasted unlike anything he’d eaten before, but it was really good.
“It has meat from the bighorn sheep, and several roots in it. I wanted to find bitterroot yesterday, but had to stay here.”
He looked at her across the table. “Because of me.”
She shrugged. “I’ll find some on the way to the canyon tomorrow.”
They ate in silence. Sarah finished her meal, and bent down to let the dog lick the bowl clean.
“Please tell me that’s not how you wash these bowls,” Chase asked. He glanced at his food. Sarah laughed, and he couldn’t help but stare at her. She was beautiful. Her face lit up, and her blue eyes shone like the summer sky. His stomach tightened. Her smile faltered when her eyes met his. Abruptly, she got up from the table. She picked up the huge piece of hide on the rocking chair.
“My brother’s britches don’t fit you. I was afraid of that.” She didn’t turn to look at him.
“It’s okay. When my shorts are dry, I’ll wear those again.” Chase pushed his chair away from the table. The dog gave him an expectant look.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He and the dog stared at each other. With a shake of his head, Chase placed his empty bowl at the dog’s feet.
“I will make you a pair of britches that will fit you.” Sarah came up to him. “I just need to…..measure you.” She avoided looking at him.
“You don’t have to do that. I said I’ll wear my shorts.”
“Long britches will keep your legs from getting injured. We will be traveling through forests and over mountains. You will be glad for leg protection.”
Chase took a tentative step closer. “Angel,” he said, his voice deep and raspy, “you’ve done enough for me already.” He lifted her chin so she’d look at him. The sensation of drowning swept over him as he stared into her blue eyes. He inhaled deeply. Then he stepped back and left the cabin.
Chapter 7
Sarah woke to Grizzly’s wet tongue on her face. She turned her stiff neck, opened her eyes slowly, and groaned. She must have fallen asleep in the rocking chair. Gray light from the impending dawn filtered through the window. It was time to get moving if they were to reach the canyon before nightfall. She glanced down at her lap. A new pair of large moccasins still rested on her thighs. She hoped they would fit him.
Chase had wandered the riverbank for most of the day yesterday, which had been fine with her. She kept busy sewing him a pair of britches and moccasins, keeping her work hidden when he came back. She’d taken measurements from his short pants, and guessed at the remainder of the length. It had been the perfect solution. It avoided her having to touch him almost intimately, trying to measure his waist and legs. His close proximity that morning, and the looks he’d sent her way left her with a disturbing feeling she’d never had before. Her heart seemed to do flip flops, and she couldn’t draw full breath in his presence.
After their supper of fresh bread and rabbit, he had gone to bed. She’d sat up late into the night, and finished her sewing. She still had reservations about him walking so far in such a short amount of time, but he’d been adamant about going. She knew the shortest way, but it was also the most strenuous. Chase looked to be physically capable of such a trip, but Sarah had doubts that his body might not be fully recovered from his ordeal with exposure.
She’d been to the canyon many times with her family. On a few occasions, her father had allowed her to accompany him and her brothers when they went hunting bighorn near the canyon with their Tukudeka relatives.
Sarah stoked the fire, bringing the smoldering coals back to life. She set water to boil for coffee, then quietly entered her bedroom to retrieve her traveling pouch and bighorn bow from the wall. Stealing a glance at the bed, she gasped and quickly averted her eyes. He slept in the nude! She didn’t see anything she shouldn’t have, but he must have kicked the covers off himself during the night. Only a small part of his backside was left unexposed.
Sarah’s face burned. Her stomach seemed to have traded places with her heart. She was grateful that he slept on his stomach. With trembling hands, she reached for her bow and quiver, the solid feel of the sheep horn giving her an odd comfort. Thankfully, she faced away from the bed to retrieve her items. Her pouch hung off a hook by the door. She snatched it up and left the room.
Sarah sat at the table, her head cradled between trembling hands. She shook her head. If her parents ever found out that she’d let a strange man stay in the house while they were gone ….she didn’t even want to think about what her father would do. What would he do? She sat up straighter, wondering. This topic of discussion had never come up. There had never been a reason for it. Her parents trusted her, and she was proud that they thought her capable enough to live on her own while they were away.
And then he had to show up! She glanced towards the door to her bedroom, frowning. Hopefully, once she delivered him to the canyon, and he found his companions, all would be well again. Her
parents need not find out about this.
Relieved by that thought, she set to work packing some bread and dried meat in her pouch. She retrieved the spare flintlock rifle and powder horn from her parents’ room. The sun began to climb over the tops of the eastern mountains, the direction they would be heading. Sarah braided her hair, securing the ends with a strip of leather. She pulled another weapon belt from her brother’s trunk along with an old hunting knife and tomahawk for Chase, since he had no weapons of his own. She didn’t need to check if they were sharp. Her father had taught every member of the family to never let a weapon become dull. Two blankets rolled up and tied with leather straps and a couple of water bags completed her packing.
She poured two cups of coffee, and sliced some bread and meat so Chase could eat before they headed out. She set the coffee pot on the counter with a loud bang, and dropped a tin plate on the floor. Grizzly’s head shot up from his sleeping place by the hearth at the clatter, and when the plate rolled towards him. Sarah hoped her deliberate attempt at making noise would wake him up. How can any man sleep this soundly?
“Grizzly, go wake him up.” Sarah pointed at the door to her room. The dog leapt from his place, and wagged his tail happily. He gave Sarah a quizzical look, and she pointed towards her room again. “Go on,” she encouraged. With a single bark, Grizzly trotted into her bedroom. Her mattress groaned, and Sarah surmised Grizzly had jumped on her bed. Her faithful friend barked again, and then a man cursed loudly. Sarah smiled, waiting by the hearth.
“Get off me, you hairy monster.” Grizzly barking an enthusiastic reply followed Chase’s sleepy growl.
Sarah glanced towards her bedroom, then thought better of it and quickly wheeled around. He wouldn’t walk out to the main room without getting dressed first, would he? She heard shuffling footsteps behind her, but didn’t dare turn around.
“Why’d you have to send that mangy mutt in there to wake me?” His voice was close behind her, still raspy from sleep. She glanced tentatively over her shoulder. He wore his short britches. With a sigh of relief, she turned fully towards him. Sarah’s gaze lingered on the tattoo on his chest. She wondered at its significance, but didn’t want to appear forward by asking him about it.
“It’s getting late, and we should leave.” She pulled her eyes away from the scorpion and stared up at him.
Chase ran a hand over his sleepy face. “The sun’s not even up yet,” he protested, and yawned.
She held out a cup of coffee to him. “It’s a long walk, remember? Unless you’ve changed your mind, and want to stay here.” She raised her eyebrows.
“No. You’re right.” He took a seat at the table and put the tin cup to his mouth.
Sarah’s heart sped up. She suddenly felt nervous, thinking about giving him the clothing she’d made. It seemed like such an intimate thing for a woman to do for a man who wasn’t her husband or a relative.
“Are you planning to go on the warpath?” he called. He stared at her bow and rifle on the table.
She walked over and picked up the belt, the knife and tomahawk dangling from it. “I thought you should have these.” She held the belt out to him, “for the journey, since you had no weapons on you. If you’d like, you can carry the rifle.”
Chase raised his eyebrows. “And what exactly am I supposed to do with these?”
Sarah stared in disbelief. She didn’t know a single white man who came to these mountains who didn’t know how to use a knife or rifle. She laughed. “You mean to tell me you don’t know what a knife is for? Can you shoot a rifle?”
“I told you, I’m not from here, angel,” he whispered in a low tone.
Sarah nodded. She didn’t know what to think. She turned away from him and picked up the britches and moccasins, still on the floor by the rocking chair. Hopefully he would accept her peace offering for laughing at him.
“Here. I made these. They should fit better than my brother’s britches.” She thrust the items at him. Her heart pounded so loud, she was sure he could hear it.
Chase rose from his seat, and took what she offered. He glanced at what he held in his hands, then at her. She quickly lowered her head. She felt him close the distance between them, and he raised her chin with his thumb and forefinger.
“When did you do this?” His green eyes stared right into her.
“Yesterday.” She blinked. He held to her chin, keeping her gaze on him.
“You were up all night, weren’t you?” he asked softly. She shrugged. “No one’s ever made something for me before.”
“Well, are you going to put them on? We do need to be on our way.” Sarah said haughtily when he simply looked at the bundle in his hands.
“Yeah, sure,” he said absently. He still held her chin. Before she realized his intent, he bent his head and kissed her squarely on the mouth. An intense ripple of adrenaline shot through her. She jumped back, and stared at him, her eyes wide.
“I’ll go put these on, and we can get going,” he said casually, as if kissing a woman he’d only met was something he did frequently.
Chase turned, and disappear into her room. She willed her racing heart to slow. No man had ever kissed her on the mouth before. Plenty had tried, but her father or one of her brothers had always been there to protect her from such unwanted advances.
She put her fingers to her tingling lips. The contact had been quick and gentle, and not at all unpleasant. She finally understood a little better why her parents enjoyed kissing each other so much. The visions of her parents, and the way they caressed and touched when they thought no one was looking, sent heat into her face.
Stop this thinking, Sarah. This man will be gone tomorrow. Don’t allow him any liberties. It was bad enough how intimately they’d been living together for the past two days. Sarah banked the coals in the hearth. She hurried outside and broke three tender, thin branches from one of the lodgepole pines behind the cabin. Back inside, she laid these in a row on the table, facing east. If Elk Runner or one of her cousins stopped by while she was gone, they’d know which direction she had gone, and that she’d be back within three days. They would know what day she’d left by the moisture in the sticks.
*****
Chase pulled the new buckskins on over his boxers. Any notion he might have had of animal hide as tough and stiff went out the window. These pants were as soft and pliable as any fabric he’d worn. The length was perfect, and so was the waist. Sarah even adorned them with fringe on the outside of both legs. The moccasins might take some getting used to, but the blisters on his heels didn’t rub painfully against the material the way they did in the boots. He pulled the blue cotton shirt over his head, and for a moment he thought he was dressing for a costume party.
It was true what he’d said to Sarah about no one ever making anything for him. His mother had always been too busy with work to do some of the special things moms did for their kids. He’d always been jealous of his friends when he was little. Their parents went out of their way to throw elaborate birthday parties with extravagant homemade birthday cakes, and made their kids’ Halloween costumes rather than buying a last-minute clearance costume at the store. Birthdays for him were usually a stop at McDonalds, and a store bought generic cake.
He didn’t blame his mother. It wasn’t her fault that his old man had walked out on them when he was five. She had to work two jobs most of the time to make ends meet. The best thing she’d ever done for him was sign him up for football when he was eight. That was expensive, and he knew she had put in long hours to pay for the uniforms and equipment. Football had earned him a full scholarship to college, and he’d blown that. Russell, you’re such a screw-up.
Chase pulled his thoughts back to the present. Sarah. That kiss was purely on impulse, but the second his lips touched hers, he’d been on fire. It scared the hell out of him. Her reaction confirmed what an innocent she was. Had she not jumped back, there was no telling how far he might have taken it. Girls were a casual distraction, not something to take
seriously, just like the rest of his life. What was it about Sarah that made him want to act all gallant and noble? Jeez! He really did step back in time. It was high time he got himself out of here and back to where he belonged.
Dressed the part of the mountain man, he left the bedroom. Sarah stood by the door, decked out looking like an Indian ready to go on the warpath. She had a bunch of pouches and a blanket roll slung over her shoulders, and on her back was a holder for arrows – whatever the heck that was called. In her hand, she held a bow and the riffle. Her knife was strapped to the belt around her waist.
She met his gaze, her face unreadable.
“Take the blanket and water bag, and put on the belt with the knife and tomahawk,” she said, gesturing with her chin to the items on the table.
“That’s all you want me to carry? Can I take some of the things from you?” She looked weighted down with stuff.
“No, I can manage.” She turned and opened the door.
Chase raised his eyebrows, and grabbed the items off the table. She walked briskly across the meadow, and he jogged to catch up to her. The furry mutt jumped eagerly between their feet, his tail held high, swaying like plumage in the air.
“We will cross the Little Buffalo River. From there I will set a fast pace. I hope you can keep up,” she said when he walked beside her. Her voice held an edge to it that hadn’t been there before. Chase suspected it had to do with that kiss, but he wasn’t going to ask. He grinned at her bold statement.
“Maybe you should worry more about keeping up with me, angel.”
She shot him a dark look, and his grin widened. Abruptly, she took off at a fast jog. No problem. This was far easier than spring training.
She barely slowed down as she splashed through the knee-high water of the Gibbon River, picking up the pace once across. The meadow quickly turned to forest, and not only did she not slow down, but there were downed logs to navigate as well. He wondered why she didn’t keep to a straight line, but seemed to zigzag through the trees.
Yellowstone Redemption Page 5
