An Unconventional Lady

by Cynthia Hickey

  “Thank you.” This she knew how to do.

  “The spot I’m taking y’all to is perfect for bank fishing or fly angling. If you don’t mind getting wet, I suggest the latter.”

  Annie wanted to ask what angling was, but since she knew how to fish from the bank, she’d stick to that and not show her ignorance. She couldn’t stand any more teasing.

  “I managed to catch some live bait this morning for the bank fishers,” he said.

  “That would be me.” Annie held her hand out for the bucket. Why was there water in the worms? She peered inside. “I’m using fish to catch fish? How am I supposed to get them on the hook?”

  “Hook them under the spine.” Dallas grinned. “Nothing better than live bait for this river.”

  Her shoulders slumped. What she wouldn’t give for a big fat worm.

  * * *

  Dallas grinned, remembering the look on Annie’s face when he’d handed her the pail of small fish. He admired her grit and determination. Only a blind man couldn’t see how hard she tried to act as if camping wasn’t a new experience for her. What would she have done if she’d actually succeeded in convincing her mother to let her guide people? He shook his head. What a disaster that would’ve been for everyone involved.

  He whistled for Hero to follow, chuckling as the six-month-old pup bounded over low bushes. Young or not, the dog would be a good warning if a dangerous critter ventured close, which Dallas doubted would happen. Not with a crowd of adults, anyway. A single person might be a different story.

  He led the group to his favorite fishing spot and had them spread out along the bank. He positioned Annie on the edge of a rock that jutted over the water. “It isn’t too swift here if you fall in, and the fish are usually biting. Do you want me to bait your hook?”

  “No, thank you.” She scowled and plunged her hand into the bucket. “Slippery little things.” She finally grasped one and grimaced, clutching it in her fist. “See?” The fish squirmed, wiggling free of her grasp and falling into the river.

  Dallas laughed. “Let me help you before you lose them all.”

  “There’s plenty.” She reached for another one. “Go away.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to teach you to angle?”

  “I’m positive.” She straightened and planted her fists on her hips. “Now, if you’re finished ridiculing me, I’d like to catch a fish.”

  He back away, hands raised. “Holler if you need me.”

  “I doubt that will happen,” she muttered. Tongue between her teeth, she struggled to pierce the slippery fish with her hook.

  Dallas laughed again and went to check on the others. Annie sure was cute when riled.

  Fly angling would have given him the opportunity to put his arms around her while teaching her how to cast the line over the water, back and forth, back and forth, flicking her delicate wrist just so. He would’ve enjoyed that. Gathering her close on the pretense of teaching her a new way to fish. He glanced over his shoulder and sighed at the sight of McMurray making his way to her side.

  She’d probably relent and let him help her. For a reason Dallas couldn’t fathom, Annie didn’t want to accept any assistance from him. Almost as if she needed to prove herself. That was his fault, most likely. Him and his former prejudiced ways.

  What if she never forgave him? What if he returned to Texas not having set things right between them? Ma would have his hide for sure.

  A shout drew his attention back to Annie. She tugged at her pole, yanking it up and down like a water pump.

  “Don’t lose it.” Dallas leaped across the rocks to try and reach her.

  She glanced his way, lost her footing on the slippery boulder and tumbled into the river.

  His heart lodged in his throat. What if the water was deeper than he’d thought? Her leather skirt could weigh her down. He waited for her head to appear, and watched in horror as she appeared farther downstream, caught in an undercurrent.

  With no further thought, he leaped in after her. “Hold on!”

  He stayed close to the bank and swam as hard as he could, letting the current carry him toward Annie. She grabbed a low-hanging branch and hugged it, wrapping both arms and legs around the limb. Smart girl.

  Dallas reached her, planting his booted feet firmly on the river’s bottom. “Put your arms around my neck. I’ll carry you on my back.”

  “No.” Her eyes widened. “That isn’t proper at all.”

  “You’re wearing a split skirt. It’s no different than pants, isn’t that what you say?” Now was not the time for propriety.

  She laced her arms around his neck. “I’m ready.”

  He was holding her, albeit not in the way he’d originally planned. Holding her legs tight around his middle, he sloshed through the water to the bank, then turned her over to the care of her mother. “She’d best get into some dry clothes.”

  Mrs. Rollins nodded. “Come along, daughter. You, too, Mr. Baker.”

  “I’m fine. One of the others might need assistance.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You may return after you are dry.” Taking her daughter’s arm, she marched back to camp. “Annie, while you change your clothes, I’ll get a fire going,” Esther said.

  Annie nodded and retreated to her tent, while Dallas ducked into his. The thought of what might have happened had he not been close chilled him more than the water. The river wasn’t deep in that spot, but with a skirt, and panicked, Annie might not have made it out.

  He quickly changed his clothes, putting back on his wet boots. He wouldn’t chance ruining his better pair. The dry socks would have to be enough. When he emerged, Mrs. Rollins was stirring the fire’s embers.

  Rustling inside the tent told him Annie was still changing. He averted his head and made his way quickly back to the others, not wanting to dwell on what she might be taking off in the privacy there.

  “Annie all right?” McMurray rushed to meet him. “Should I check on her?”

  “Her mother is with her. She’ll be fine.” Dallas shouldn’t have stopped the man from going, but McMurray wasn’t the one who’d jumped to her rescue. He’d stood on the bank and watched helplessly while she’d been swept downstream.

  “I feel awful,” the other man said, staring across the river. “But I can’t swim a lick. Have a horrible fear of the water. Not seemly for a man of God to fear something, is it?”

  “Sounds healthy to me.” Dallas continued walking, making the man follow if he wanted to continue the conversation.

  “Maybe so.” McMurray sighed. “You’re a regular saver of mankind, Mr. Baker. Completely deserving of the title hero the townspeople have labeled you.”

  Dallas stopped and stared at the man. He just did what needed doing. Nothing heroic about his actions. “But you, Pastor, are a saver of souls.” And seemed to have captured the heart of the woman Dallas loved.

  Chapter 20

  Annie wanted nothing more to do with the camping trip. Instead, she wanted to head home and renew her contract with the Harvey Company. Then there’d be no more being laughed at, no more feeling as if she were keeping her mother from her own future, no more worry about what came next in Annie’s life.

  The moment her mother rejoined Mr. Harris fishing, Annie stuffed her saddlebags, filled her canteen and then saddled her mule. She needed to be moving up the trail before anyone caught wind of what she planned.

  She couldn’t think about the irresponsibility of what she was doing. After all, what danger could there be? All she had to do was the follow the trail back to the top. The mule probably knew the way. He’d traversed it enough times over the summer. Once they got on the trail, there would be nowhere to go but up.

  Yanking on the lead rope, Annie set off in the direction they’d hiked the day before. If she followed the
river in the opposite direction from camp, she’d be bound to find the trail. She scanned the cliff face. Why couldn’t she see it? Was the entrance hidden behind the thick brush?

  With the river on her left and the cliff on her right, she had only three directions in which to go: forward, backward, or up, which was the one she preferred, if she could only find the trail. She discarded the middle option.

  The sun was high in the sky by the time she stopped for a drink in front of a mound of what looked like fallen boulders. She dug in her saddlebags for a piece of dried meat and hard biscuit. While she ate, she watched an eagle soar overhead. Maybe she’d catch another rare glimpse of a condor.

  The shade felt cool on her heated shoulders, and she leaned against the rocks to take a break. If she’d ridden the mule, she wouldn’t be so tired, but she wanted the animal rested when it was time to start the climb.

  Except Annie now knew without a doubt that she was lost. Tears stung her eyes. She’d have to swallow her pride and follow the river back to camp. She reached for the mule’s lead. “Come on, animal. Let’s head back.” She would never hear the end of the ridicule.

  The mule tossed its head, yanking the rope from her hands. It released a loud bray and galloped away.

  “What in the world? Get back here!” Annie stomped her foot. What could possibly—

  A scream sounded over her shoulder. Spiders with icy feet crawled up her spine. She’d heard that sound before from the safety of her special place overlooking the canyon. As slowly as possible, she turned.

  A cougar stared down at her from what could only be its lair. Two smaller heads poked up from the rocks.

  Annie’s heart stopped. Her breath caught. What should she do now? She’d stumbled upon a mama who would do anything to protect her young. The animal had no idea that Annie wouldn’t hurt her babies.

  Searching the ground for a weapon, she settled on a stick as thick as her wrist. Still moving slowly, she removed her knife from her belt and took a step backward. Father always said not to run when facing a wild animal To make yourself as large as possible so they’d think it more trouble to attack you than it was worth. Hard to do when everything in her wanted to flee as fast as possible.

  When the animal continued to watch her with its beautiful golden eyes, Annie took another step. She held the stick and knife over her head and prayed for God to release her from her foolishness. Oh, my. What if His answer to that prayer was death at the teeth of a wildcat? She quickly amended her prayer to include a safe return home for her and the animal.

  Not that she thought God too stupid to decipher the true meaning of her prayer...but she was rambling. Her mouth filled with cotton. Every time her foot sent a rock clattering against another, an icy stream of perspiration ran down her back.

  She peered over her shoulder at the rushing river. Why couldn’t she have stopped to rest at a calm location? She’d drown if she were to try and cross. But then again, the cat wouldn’t follow her. She shook her head. No, she’d continue on this side of the river, one tiny step at a time.

  With each step she took, the cat took one, too. Its deep-throated growls made Annie’s knees weak. Don’t fall. Don’t fall. Stupid mule, leaving her alone.

  Her hand started to sweat around the handle of her knife. She tightened her grip. To lose her weapons meant certain death. Oh, please, go away. She couldn’t win against an animal that weighed more than she did. All she could hope for was to hurt it enough to make it want to go away instead of eat her.

  She wiped her teary eyes on her sleeve. Couldn’t animals sense weakness? Smell her fear? How did one face such a situation and not be afraid?

  She wanted to cry, scream, call out for Dallas. God, please send help.

  * * ** * *

  Dallas leaned his pole against a rock. A saddled mule chewed a patch of dry grass beside the tents. Dallas glanced toward the makeshift paddock and counted the animals there. One was missing. “Mrs. Rollins, did Annie say anything about taking a ride?”

  “No, only that she wanted to rest.” She parted the tent flaps. “She’s gone. So are her bags.” She backed out. “Where could she have gone without a mule?”

  Dallas’s thoughts, exactly. Fear took root in his stomach and spread tendrils through his limbs. Had she been thrown? Did she lie injured and dying beside the trail? He whistled for Hero and sprinted for Rascal.

  Within fifteen minutes, he was riding toward the trail and watching for signs of someone having recently passed that way. Why wasn’t he seeing any? Was it possible she’d gotten lost and headed in the wrong direction?

  He stopped and listened. Waited for direction from God to show him the way. A strong urge to follow the river tugged at him. He steered his horse away from the trail. Ma had taught him a long time ago that sometimes God’s direction came in a gentle nudging. Other times, in a fierce scream. Dallas had learned not to ignore either one.

  There. A hoofprint. A strike of a steel shoe against a rock. Unless there was another party down here, he’d found the direction Annie had wandered.

  The scream of a mountain cat froze Dallas’s blood. That sound meant only one thing: the cat felt threatened. Annie! He spurred Rascal faster, despite the horse’s reluctance to move. Hero set up a shrill barking from between the horse’s legs. Dallas needed to dismount before someone was hurt.

  He slid from the saddle and tethered his horse to a low bush, then slipped his rifle from its scabbard. “Hush, Hero. Down boy.”

  “Dallas!” Annie’s cry spurred him into a run.

  He burst around the curve and skidded to a halt. She stood like a warrior, hair falling around her shoulders in a glorious wave of gold, a club in one hand and a knife in the other. He didn’t think he’d ever seen a more magnificent, or scary, sight in his life. “Get behind me.”

  “I can’t. My foot is stuck and I can’t pull out of my boot. Help me.” She raised wide eyes and a tear-streaked face toward him.

  Dallas planted himself in front of her. “Stay, Hero.” The pup took up a stance beside him and barked. The sound echoed off the canyon walls. Dallas aimed his rifle, hoping he wouldn’t have to shoot. He didn’t want to kill a mother.

  “I can’t see.” Annie shoved against him. “Stand beside me. There’s strength in numbers, even in the animal kingdom. My father taught me that.”

  He took two steps to the side, wanting to protect her, love her, not put her in danger because she wanted to feel independent. But now was not the time to argue. He fired a shot into the air.

  The cat stared him down, giving another roar.

  He fired again.

  With a growl, the cougar pulled back out of sight. There was not time to waste. She could return, and Dallas needed to get Annie to safety. “Hold this.” He handed her the rifle and knelt to remove the large rocks that had fallen on her foot. “Does anything feel broken?”

  “No.” She juggled the gun and her stick. “My boot protected the bones, but I couldn’t pull free. I would’ve been too exposed if I stooped to unlace it.”

  The moment she was free, Dallas cupped her face. “You sure you’re all right?” He could’ve lost her. The thought sent his heart to his toes. What if he’d never seen her again? Never had the opportunity to tell her he loved her?

  “I’m fine. Thank you for—”

  “Annie!” McMurray and the other men raced toward them.

  She stepped back, leaving Dallas feeling more alone than he’d ever felt in his life. He took his rifle from her and kept an eye on the cougar’s den. Not that he expected the animal to reappear, not with a crowd of people there.

  McMurray pulled Annie into his arms. She stiffened, giving Dallas a bit of hope that she didn’t completely return the other man’s feelings. Maybe she didn’t like public displays of affection, and that was why she didn’t return his embrace? His shoulders sl
umped.

  “We’d best get back,” he said. “It’ll be dark soon.” He led the way, retrieving Rascal from where he’d tethered him. The last thing he wanted to do was stay and watch McMurray gush over Annie.

  Dallas’s heart couldn’t take it. He gave God thanks for her safety as he led the others back to camp, and also gave thanks that they’d be returning home in the morning. Spring wouldn’t come soon enough. Suddenly, Dallas wanted to go home to Texas, although he knew he’d leave part of his heart in Arizona with a yellow-haired gal.

  But northern Arizona winters would keep them cooped up inside and thrust into each other’s company. Anything could happen. Maybe, by warmer weather, Dallas would have won Annie’s heart. His steps lighter, he unsaddled Rascal.

  Mrs. Rollins hefted her skirts and ran to her daughter, gathering her in her arms. “Oh, my dear, I thought we’d lost you.” She caressed Annie’s face. “What possessed you to leave us?”

  Annie’s shoulders slumped and she glanced toward Dallas. “I just wanted to go home.”

  Had he done something to cause her to run off? He set the saddle on the ground and searched his mind. He’d rescued her from the river. Surely that hadn’t angered her. What could he have said to hurt her feelings?

  He marched to where she sat nursing a cup of coffee. “May I speak to you, please?”

  Her face paled, but she nodded before following him to where the animals were tethered. “Yes?”

  “What caused you to leave, Annie?” He reached out to touch her, then thought better of it and pulled his hand away. “Did I say or do something to cause you pain?”

  She closed her eyes and ducked her head. “I realized how inadequate I was at camping or fishing. I didn’t sleep well the night before because of the hard ground—”

  “Did you sweep away the rocks?”

  She met his gaze with a glare. “See? That’s my point. I couldn’t even think of something so simple to make myself more comfortable. I’m not cut out for this kind of life, vacation or not.”