Chase lowered the dog to the ground. Grizzly stood on wobbly paws for a moment, then trotted off across the meadow.
“He looks like a drunken sailor,” Chase grinned.
“A what?” Sarah asked, meeting his gaze when he looked down at her.
“It’s an expression. When someone is drunk, he can’t move too steadily on his feet, and swerves and weaves around a lot. Just like Grizzly’s doing.” He nodded in the dog’s direction. He reached up and wiped some sweat from his forehead before his eyes caught Sarah’s stare.
“What?” he asked. Did he say the wrong thing?
“Have you ever been drunk, Chase?”
He groaned silently. He didn’t want to go there. For a moment, he held her sharp stare. He couldn’t lie to this girl. With a deep intake of breath, he said, “Yeah, angel, I’ve been drunk.” He didn’t need to elaborate and tell her that his drinking and drugs were the reason, ultimately, that had brought him here.
“I have seen what alcohol does to a man’s senses.” The disgust in her voice was unmistakable. “Men drink themselves into a stupor, and they behave worse than animals.”
He’d been the man she described plenty of times. Sweat beaded his forehead anew.
“Why do men feel the need to drink?” she asked.
Chase scratched the back of his neck. “I don’t know...,” he shrugged. “Fun, maybe. Recreation. To be accepted socially.” He stared straight ahead. They were almost at the cabin. “Maybe to forget things…” his voice trailed off.
“My childhood friend, Falling Rain, fell victim to a man who chose alcohol for…as you say, fun and recreation.”
He peered over at her. With a sinking feeling, he knew what she would say next.
“You say men use alcohol to forget. I know Falling Rain has never forgotten the man who raped her and left her to die while he was in a drunken stupor. She was twelve years old.”
“Shit.” Chase ran his hand down his face.
Sarah stopped walking. She offered a slow smile. “I’m sorry. I over-reacted. None of that has to do with you. I just get angry when I hear or see men make fools of themselves and turn into vile creatures because of alcohol. I’m sure you had good reason when you chose to consume too much.”
Russell, you could use a stiff drink right now.
“Look,….it’s still early. I think I’ll go rinse the trail dust off in the river.” He needed to get away. What would she think of him if she ever found out that drinking himself to the point of passing out was part of his daily routine less than a year ago? Hell, it’s what landed him here in this time. She’d probably tell him to get lost, and slam the door in his face. Not that he could blame her. He headed toward the Madison without another word. He could feel her eyes on him, probably wondering if he’d ever done something as low and disgusting as what she’d just told him.
******
Chase knocked on the cabin door, pulling his shirt on over his head. Sarah didn’t answer, even on his second knock. Slowly, he opened it, and peered inside. Grizzly greeted him with a weak wag of his tail, and a whine. His eyes darted around the dim main room. A warm sensation doused him, and he smiled. Sarah sat in a chair, her head resting on her arms on the table. She was sound asleep. Her weapons, bedroll, and pouches she’d been carrying on their trip all lay in a heap on the ground.
He couldn’t blame her. She had to be worn out. She’d barely slept in three days, and had done most of the work. Chase nudged her gently. She moaned softly, but otherwise didn’t stir.
“Come on, angel, time for bed,” he whispered. He peeled her arms off the table, supporting her head as it fell back against his arm, scooped his other arm under her knees, and lifted her off the chair. She sighed and nestled her head against his chest. Chase stared at her for a moment and tightened his hold, then carried her to her bedroom. He elbowed the door open, and deposited her quietly on the bed. He was about to pull some covers over her, when his eyes fell to her belt. He unbuckled it and pulled it out from under her, laying it on the table next to the bed.
“Good night, angel” he said, and bent over her, touching his lips to her forehead. She nestled deeper into her covers, and a gentle smile formed on her lips. Chase’s stomach tightened. He brushed some lose strands of hair out of her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek, then quietly left the room.
The dog lay by the hearth, his tail thumping loudly against the floorboards.
“How about we get this place warmed up and wrestle us up some chow, Grizz?” The tail thumped more forcefully against the ground.
Chase pulled out his knife and flint, and was about to kneel in front of the hearth, when he realized the firewood box was nearly empty. He rose, groaning at the stiffness in his legs. He’d definitely gotten a good workout the last few days. Where was a gas log when you needed one? One flip of a match, a turn of the key, and a fire would be no problem. Better yet, an electric heater would be nice.
Wishful thinking wasn’t going to warm this cabin up, and the sun had almost disappeared into the western horizon. Chase went outside to the enormous woodpile around the corner. Most of the wood sat in large chunks, too big to burn. He spotted a tree stump that obviously served as a chopping block, and a huge ax leaning up against it.
“Ok, how hard can this be,” he said out loud. He picked up a block of wood and set it on the stump, then swung the ax. The blade buried itself in the wood and held on.
“Damn.” He figured he could split the log with one blow, but apparently he needed to swing harder. With the wood still attached to the blade, he swung again, bringing the log down onto the chopping block. This time it split with a loud crack. The two resulting pieces were still too large, so he repeated his actions to split the half pieces into quarters. With each blow, he learned and adjusted how much force to use, and within twenty minutes he had a sizeable pile of usable fire logs at his feet.
Grinning in satisfaction, he wiped the sweat off his forehead, and rotated his shoulders. Carrying the dog all day, and after that unplanned workout of chopping wood, he’d definitely be sore in the morning. There was barely any daylight left when he carried his last load into the cabin, but at least the box was full again.
Starting a fire was no longer a problem. He’d gotten the hang of that real quick. His stomach growled loudly. Was there anything to eat around here? Chase lit the lantern on the table, then the one on the smaller table in the corner. The room gave off a soft glow. Still not as bright as an electric light, but it gave him a homey feeling.
The water bucket he’d seen Sarah carry from the river several days ago still stood on the workbench. It was empty now. With a heavy sigh, he picked it up and went back outside, headed down to the river, and refilled it. The night air was loud with the rhythmic cadence of crickets chirping. An occasional owl hooted in the trees. Countless swallow-like birds hovered over the river, darting up and down to feast on the millions of bugs that swarmed the water.
He’d never stopped to appreciate the peacefulness of it all. The few weeks he’d been in Yellowstone prior to his unexpected plunge into the past, he’d done his job without really looking around. He had to admit, the sights and sounds of nature held a certain appeal. Getting used to doing without modern conveniences like electricity, and indoor plumbing might take a lot longer. He’d never realized how he’d taken all those modern things for granted, now that he had none of them available. Instead of hopping in his car and driving to the corner fast food joint, he had to either kill something, dig it up out of the ground, or pull it out of a tree. Then it needed to be cooked. He hoped there was an edible morsel somewhere in the cabin.
Carrying the bucket from the river, his eyes veered towards the small cabin to his right. Curiosity took hold. He set the bucket on the work bench in the main house first, then picked up the lantern on the table, and went back outside. Slowly, he opened the door to the other cabin. The hinges creaked loudly. He raised the lantern high to see better.
He couldn’t make out much. The cabin wa
s a simple room. There was one bunk on the wall to the right. The back wall was one large hearth and fireplace. Stacks of blankets, furs, and leather items lined the opposite wall. Several wooden trunks were stacked in a corner. His lips raised in a grin when he spotted a rack along the wall by the hearth. What looked to be dried meat hung from the rack. Chase removed a large chunk, and returned to the main cabin.
He cut a piece off and put it in his mouth. It was hard and dry. He’d be chewing this stuff all night just to get his fill. Glancing around, hoping an inspiration would hit him, he saw the kettle Sarah had used to cook her stew. Why not? He could cut up some of the meat and pour water over it, and cook it. That might soften it up.
“Don’t look at me like that, Grizz,” he said to the dog, which lay patiently by the hearth, observing his every move. “You’re going to be eating this, too.” The dog whined. “And no complaints about my cooking.”
An hour later, Chase ladled meat and broth into two bowls. He set one in front of the dog, who lapped it up eagerly, and took his own to sit at the table. The meat had softened considerably, but it was tasteless, as was the broth.
“Sarah’s going to have to do this kind of cooking, huh, Grizz. Hers definitely tastes better.”
He stretched his long legs in front of him, crossing them at the ankles, and clasped his hands behind his head, then yawned. Where was he going to sleep? The rocking chair didn’t look too comfortable, and he definitely didn’t want to go into that other room. He suspected that was Sarah’s parents’ bedroom. He shrugged and left the table. Sarah’s bed was large enough for two.
He entered her room quietly. She hadn’t moved from where he left her earlier. He pulled his shirt off, then his moccasins, and slowly lowered himself onto the bed on the opposite side, not wanting to disturb her. He stayed on top of her covers, and pulled a blanket over himself.
He stared at the dark ceiling. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. He’d never actually slept, in the literal sense, in the same bed with a girl before. Sleep had never been a priority on those occasions when he shared a bed with a woman. He listened to Sarah’s slow, rhythmic breathing inches from him, and ground his teeth. As exhausted as he was himself, he knew sleep would be a long time coming.
Chapter 13
Sunlight filtered in through the small window of her room, and Sarah squeezed her eyes shut tighter. She arched her back and stretched dreamily, not wanting to give in to the start of a new day. Still half-asleep, she thought vaguely that she hadn’t slept this well in days. She rotated her head, and her hand moved upward. The contact with bare skin startled her fully awake. Her leg was draped over Chase’s leg, and her hand rested on his nude chest, while her head was nestled in the crook of his arm. She bolted upright. Her face flamed with heat, and her heart raced wildly. Quickly, she yanked her leg back. What had she done? A quick glance down offered her some reprieve. She exhaled slowly. At least she was wearing her shirt. She scrambled to the edge of the bed, and held her scorching face between her hands. Behind her, she felt him stir.
“Morning, angel,” he said, his voice raspy from sleep. Sarah bolted off the bed and yanked her door open, racing into the main room. Her breaths came in quick, shallow gasps. What had happened last night? She frantically searched her mind. She remembered entering the cabin, and Chase had gone to the river. A quick glance around the room, and she spotted her weapons and pouches where she had dropped them. She recalled sitting at the table for a moment to rest her feet. Then what happened? She couldn’t remember.
She stiffened at the shuffling sounds behind her. Her heart rate accelerated again. She bit her lower lip and squeezed her eyes shut.
“Nothing happened, Sarah.” He stood too close. She could feel his breath in her hair as he spoke. Slowly, she turned to face him.
“Why….?” Her voice squeaked like a mouse. She couldn’t get the words out.
“I came back from the river, and you were asleep at the table,” he calmly answered her unfinished question.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” she whispered.
“I tried. You were so far gone, you barely moved. So I brought you to your bed. I figured you could use a good night’s sleep.”
“And you?”
“I didn’t want to sleep in that rocking chair, angel. I swear, nothing happened. I kept my pants on, and my hands to myself.” He grinned, then winked at her.
She whirled around, mortified anew that he would speak like that.
“Lighten up, Sarah. I’m not going to ravish you. Haven’t you ever had a boyfriend?”
“A what?”
“A guy who pays attention to you. Not like that jacka….jerk from yesterday. What would you call it?...A suitor?”
Sarah felt his warm hands on her shoulders. He applied pressure, coaxing her to turn around again. Slowly, she obliged, meeting his heated gaze. She swallowed repeatedly, and moved her tongue around inside her dry mouth, trying to stimulate saliva to flow.
“No,” she looked up into his eyes. There was something haunting about the way he looked at her. As if he was staring straight into her soul. “Do you….do you have someone waiting for you at home?” she asked tentatively.
He laughed. “No. I’ve never been one for attachments.” He dropped his hands and stepped away from her. Why did his answer bother her?
Grizzly whined at that moment. The dog padded over to the door.
“How are you this morning?” Glad of the diversion, Sarah moved away from Chase and patted the dog on the head, running her fingers over the wound. A thick scab had formed, and there was no excess heat or swelling. She opened the door and he trotted off.
“I fed him last night.”
She turned, her eyebrows raised.
“He ate it, but he much prefers your cooking.” Chase’s boyish grin was back. She couldn’t help but smile back.
“I’ll fix breakfast,” she said.
“Is there anything you need me to do?” he asked, and she noted the sincerity in his voice. She glanced at the wood box, then raised her eyebrows in surprise.
“I filled it last night,” he said.
“Then, no, there’s nothing I need at the moment.”
“Okay. I’ll…ah, go outside and see what that dog is up to.”
Sarah watched him turn to leave. “Chase.” He turned back around. “I….I would like to bathe later…..” Her face flamed again.
“Understood,” he smiled. “I’ll be far away when you do.” He headed for the door again.
“Chase.”
He stopped, his hand on the door. Sarah bit her lip. “Thank you…..for not…you know,” she stammered. The words didn’t want to come out. He faced her and raised his eyebrows. She inhaled deeply. “Thank you for being an honorable man.”
His eyes darkened, and he stared at her for a long time. “Don’t be so sure about that, angel.” He left and closed the door on his way out.
******
Sarah ran a brush through her wet hair, untangling the long strands with her fingers. She sat at the riverbank, gazing across the expanse of water towards the Firehole Canyon. Her thoughts strayed to the man who was quickly taking over her heart. She couldn’t help herself, but she trusted him completely. He may have told her he wasn’t an honorable man, but she didn’t believe it for a moment, no more than she believed that he came from the future. He’d had plenty of opportunities to take advantage of her. She was not so disillusioned that if he wanted to, he could overpower her easily. He may be unskilled with weapons, save for the tomahawk, but she was no match for his size and strength.
In his own way, he had protected her from Jean Luc. The memory of that kiss caused her lips to tingle, and she put her fingers to her mouth, a slow smile forming on her face. She wondered, for the first time, what it would be like to lie in the arms of a man, to be loved by a man. Her face flushed. She’d shared a bed with him the entire night, and her body had obviously sought him out, the way she’d found herself entangled with him this morning.
And she had to admit, it felt nice, even if her shock hadn’t left her any time to enjoy the feeling.
Sarah sighed. He’d told her he didn’t want any attachments. Why was she even entertaining the notion that he might be interested in her? His heated looks told her he saw her as a woman, but he hadn’t acted on it, not really. Did she want him to? She wasn’t sure.
Hastily, she buttoned up the last two buttons of her clean shirt, then carefully wrapped her cake of scented soap that her brothers had brought from St Louis last year in cloth, and grabbed her blanket off the ground. Glancing around to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything, she headed back to the cabin.
She opened the door, and gasped. Chase sat in the rocking chair, hands in the air. An Indian stood over him, his bow drawn taut, ready to release a deadly arrow.
“Uncle, no!” Sarah called in Shoshoni, and sprang forward. The Indian turned. His features relaxed, but his bow didn’t.
“Paite. I find this strange white man in your home, but not you. You are well?”
“Yes, uncle. Lay down your weapon.”
He did so reluctantly. “You know this man?” The Indian gestured towards Chase, who hadn’t moved. His eyes shot from Sarah to her uncle.
“I know him,” Sarah confirmed. Her palms began to sweat. How was she going to explain this? In the Tukudeka tradition, a man and woman living in the same lodge for more than a few days was as good as a declaration of marriage. Her uncle lowered his bow, and stepped back. He looked at her, then at Chase, but didn’t say anything.
“What’s going on, Sarah? Who is this guy?” Chase finally lowered his hands, but kept one near his tomahawk.
“This is my uncle. His name is Elk Runner,” Sarah explained. “He won’t hurt you.”
“Oh yeah? From where I’m sitting, I thought he was about to blast that arrow in me. Two days ago, some clown points a rifle at me, and today I’m staring down an Indian with an arrow pointing at my gut. Forgive me for getting a bit jumpy.”
Yellowstone Redemption Page 10
