Deborah Camp (21 page)

“I always thought I looked strange,” she whispered, her lips moving against his shirt. “When I compared myself to the other girls, I felt like a goose among swans. My hair is this peculiar color and my skin is so pale. My bones stick out in the wrong places and I’m too tall. Sometimes I wondered what the white men saw when they looked on me. I knew that the Crow saw a pale, wrong-haired orphan. If I didn’t have such powerful medicine, they would have slain me with the rest of my family.”

He held her closer and massaged the back of her neck. “Hush such talk. I’ll tell you what white men see when they look at you. They see a beauty; a woman of high spirit and a keen mind. They see a woman of great passion.” He took the comb from her unresisting fingers and drew back one side of her hair with it, then secured it above her ear. “On second look, they see a woman who has been mistreated. Would you believe me if I promised not to hurt you?” He held her head between his hands and tipped her face up to his. “God help me, Copper, but I’ve just got to kiss you.”

His mouth plucked restlessly at hers and she stood very still, as if waiting for the first sting of discomfort. Tucker loved her mouth, nuzzling the softness, sipping softly, running the tip of his tongue across her lush lips. When he lifted his mouth from hers, she opened her eyes slowly and questions swam in the dark pools.

“Your kisses are so … so …”

“So what, sugar?”

“Different.”

“Bad different or good different?”

“Good.”

“Kiss me back.”

She pulled her brows together.

“You kiss me this time.” He puckered his lips. “Go ahead. Give it a try.”

“I don’t … want to.” She wriggled her head from his grasp. Tucker hooked an arm around her waist. “Let go. I don’t want to do this anymore. Maybe you should sleep outside again.”

He stared deeply into her eyes, challenging her. “Is that what you want, Copper? Is that
really
what you want?”

Copper sealed her lips against the urge to tell him that she didn’t know what she wanted anymore. She hadn’t believed she could feel this simmering desire or enjoy kisses so much that she wished they’d go on forever. He clutched her waist and he gave her a little shake.

“Answer me!” he demanded, his voice strong and full of frustration.

Valor jolted awake and let out a piercing howl. Copper wrenched herself from Tucker’s grasp.

“Look what you’ve done,” she whispered fiercely, her anger fueled by her mounting confusion. “Keep your voice down!”

“I’ll go one better. I’ll take it outside.”

Before she could argue, he was gone. The door closed behind him. Valor wailed louder. Scooping the baby into her arms, Copper paced and crooned until Valor’s cries diminished to hiccups. Opening the shutters, Copper gazed outside. The moon illuminated the snow, turning it pale blue. Tucker’s footprints leading to the stables were clear. Copper secured the shutters and resumed her restless pacing. She glared at the rocking chair, then yanked
the comb from her hair and tossed it onto her bunk. She kissed the top of Valor’s head.

“All I want is you … all I want is you … you’re all I want,” she chanted until her heartsickness subsided.

V
alor kicked and made gurgling, happy sounds as she bounced in the moose-skin baby swing Copper had sewn for her. Hung from a sturdy tree limb, the pocket-shaped swing was about the best idea Copper had come up with, Tucker thought. He split another log, then leaned on the axe handle and watched as Copper removed a piece of chewed apple from her mouth and poked it into Valor’s. The baby gummed the morsel and swallowed, then waved her arms excitedly, wanting more.

That morning Copper had prepared a gruel laced with honey and had fed it to Valor instead of the usual breast milk. She’s changing every day, Tucker mused, noting that Valor’s black hair had lightened and now curled over her head in damp ringlets.

“Muhhh-muhhh-muhhh.”

Copper pushed another bit of apple mush into the baby’s mouth. “Are you trying to say mama? Say, ma-ma. Ma-ma.”

“She’s too young for that.” Tucker called to her.

Copper flashed a wide smile, displaying dazzling white teeth. “She’s becoming more like her own person, I think. I can figure out her moods.” She picked up a shovel and continued clearing the path from the house to the stables. The snow on either side was piled as high as her shoulders.

“Maybe we should pat down the snowdrift to get a clear view of the woods. Somebody could creep up on us and hide behind that snow wall,” Tucker suggested.

“I’ll tie a log to Hauler later and have him drag it over this to flatten it.”

He considered it and was struck again with her commonsense. The woman had a simple answer to nearly every puzzle. “I’ll do that after I finish chopping the firewood.”

“You’re spoiling me. I’ll be lazy next winter when you’re gone and I’ve got all the chores to do again. It’ll be a few years before Valor is much help.”

He picked up the axe again and directed it at the next piece of wood, splitting it neatly. His neck crimped and he tipped his head from side to side to test the muscles. They were tight from his sleeping awkwardly in the stables last night. It had been so cold that he’d finally built a fire. He’d also drank half of the spirits Gus had left him.

Glancing around at the crude cabin and snowdrifts, he pondered the disturbance rippling through him at her talk of him leaving. This place didn’t hold him, but Copper did. Days without her sunny smile were unbearable to contemplate. He looked at her again and an image darkened his thoughts. She was standing in the same spot she had been when he’d come upon her shocking greeting of Micah McCall.

“You didn’t have any compunction about kissing McCall,” he shouted to her, then wished he’d kept that observation to himself. Copper swung around and sent him a questioning frown. “That day he arrived, you jumped on him like a duck on a June bug and kissed every inch of his ugly mug.”

She stuck the shovel in the snow and propped one arm on the handle. “I’ve known him a long time and he’s not ugly.”

“But I’m more handsome than him, and you won’t kiss me.” He angled a glance her way and caught the glimmer of a smile in her eyes. “That’s about the size of it, right? What is it, you like uglies? Ugly makes you weak in the knees?”

“You are a funny man, Tucker.” She started to laugh, but it was cut short by a high, frightened whinney. “That’s Ranger. Something’s wrong.” She was already heading for the stables, but Tucker stopped her.

“No. Don’t leave the baby out here alone. I’ll go.” He grabbed the rifle in one hand and grasped the axe in the other, then trotted across the snowy ground, his gait uneven. His leg seemed stiffer and he figured last night’s cold had seeped into the weak joints.

As he neared the stables, all hell broke loose in the corral where the horses had been left. Ranger screamed and reared, hooves flashing. Courage kicked her back legs at a gray blur. Hauler brayed and ran in circles. Growling filled the air and Tucker counted six timberwolves, backing a terrified Brave into one corner of the corral.

Tucker shouted, trying to draw the wolves’ attention, but they paid him no heed. He dropped the axe and cocked the rifle. Aiming at the nearest snarling wolf, he fired and dropped the animal. Patrol and Sentry bounded from the snowy underbrush to enter the fray, but Tucker called them off for fear he’d shoot them by accident. The skinniest wolf broke away from the pack and Tucker pointed it out and set the dogs on it before he squeezed off another shot and felled another of the pack. Brave reared and stomped one. Ranger, wild with rage, surged forward, teeth bared. One of the wolves leaped at Brave, going for the horse’s throat. The dapple gray screeched in pain. Ranger bit the wolf’s back and broke it. He shook the wolf and dropped its bloody carcass. Tucker blinked, astounded. He’d never seen a horse fight in such
a fashion; but then again, he’d never seen a horse that was anything like Ranger. He was mythical, a fit steed for a redheaded witch.

Sensing defeat, the remaining wolves disappeared into the woods, chased a distance by Sentry and Patrol. Hauler and Ranger paced and blew clouds from their flared nostrils. Courage stood in the center of the corral, quivering, belly swollen with a foal. Streams of crimson ran down Brave’s neck and flanks. Tucker turned at Copper’s approach. She clutched Valor to her breasts and the baby wailed, alarmed by the noise and the jarring trip in her mother’s arms.

“Wolves?” Copper stopped beside him and fought for breath. “Oh, Brave! He’s hurt.”

“And going into shock. Help me get him inside and we’ll doctor his wounds.” He gave her the rifle to empty his hands. “Here, boy. Easy now, son.” He spoke softly as he approached the shivering horse. “Copper, stand in front of him so he can see you. He trusts you.” Grabbing a handful of mane, Tucker tugged the horse toward the stables. “Come on, Brave.”

Ranger and Copper walked ahead and Brave followed. Tucker grabbed a rag and dabbed at the leaking wounds.

“I need mud and kerosene. If you have any remedies for wolf bites, let’s use them. These bites are deep. I might have to take some stitches in one or two of them.” He stepped around to face the horse. “Want to lie down, son?”

“He won’t until he’s good and ready,” Copper said.

“We’ll see.” He stroked the gray’s blazed face. “Lie down, Brave. Take a rest, son.” Tucker tugged on the gelding’s forelock and the horse blinked its big eyes and then lowered its rump, crumpled to its knees, and rolled onto its side with a long, shuddering sigh.

“How’d you do that?” Copper asked, amazed.
“I’ve never even seen a Blood able to coax a scared horse to lie down.”

He smirked. “Tall medicine, Copper. Where’s that mud and kerosene?”

“Coming.” She spun and hurried out with a sobbing Valor still clutched tightly to her chest.

“Bring something to make stitches, too!”

While she gathered the items, Tucker washed Brave’s wounds. Sentry and Patrol returned and Tucker petted them and praised them. Suddenly, he realized that the hounds had obeyed him earlier and they now reveled in his stroking hands and pleased tones. It was the first time they’d sought his approval and the first time they’d allowed him to touch them. Copper came back. Valor was now strapped to her back in the cradleboard. She stopped in her tracks.

“The dogs have accepted you.”

“Yeah, just now. Wonder what made them come around?”

“They sense that I trust you, I suppose.” She handed him clean rags, a tin of kerosene, thick thread, and a crude needle. “I’ll make mud and herb poultices. How many do you need?”

“Four.” He cleaned the wounds with kerosene. Brave dozed and shivered, lulled by shock. The needle and thread felt awkward in Tucker’s hands, but he managed to stitch two of the deepest wounds.

Copper returned and pressed the strong-smelling poultices to the injuries, then helped Tucker treat the nicks and cuts on the other horses. Tucker piled the three dead wolves by the corral gate. Copper cut off one of their heads and stuck in on the fence post.

“What the hell is that for?” Tucker asked.

“To warn other wolves away. I’ll leave it for a few days and the smell will reach the pack and keep them at bay.”

“The smell will reach the cabin, too.”

“No. It’s too cold for it to rot quickly. These others I’ll skin. Their fur will make good clothing and rugs. The meat I’ll boil for the dogs.”

Tucker swallowed thickly. “That’s like eating their own, isn’t it?”

She shrugged. “They won’t mind. Meat is meat to them. I’ve eaten wolf before. It’s not bad. Tough and stringy, but filling. My Crow mother used to like to eat wolf hearts. My father liked their intestines boiled in a soup.”

Tucker grimaced. “I’d just as soon not hear about these … delicacies.” Then he turned his head and felt his stomach roll over.

Sitting by the fire, Copper cut moccasin pieces from the leftover, smoked moose hide. Valor lay on a quilt and kicked and drooled happily. Tucker whittled a piece of white pine into leaf and snow-flake shapes that he would later string and hang over Valor’s cradle to keep her occupied.

“You did well today,” Copper said, her gaze slipping to his and pleasure sparkling in her doe-like eyes. “But I noticed that you’re limping more. Did you hurt your leg?”

“It aches a little,” he admitted.

“I wish you’d let me rub oils into it.”

As he stretched out his leg, pain shot from ankle to thigh. “Okay. I’ll let you.”

“You will?” She put down the skin, her eyes wide with surprise.

“Yeah. I’ll shuck these britches. Where do you want me?”

“Here. In front of the fire. I’ll put Valor on the bunk.” She scrambled to her feet and deposited the gurgling baby on the lower bed. She pointed to the quilt. “There. Remove your shirt, too.”

He sent her a questioning glance, then shrugged and stripped. She turned her back while he
stretched face down on the quilt. He flung his shirt over his naked buttocks and rested his cheek on his stacked hands.

Copper collected the liniment oil and sat on her knees beside him. She poured a measure of the oil into her palm and let it warm there a few seconds while her gaze strolled over his naked limbs and broad back. A puckered scar shone on one shoulder where the arrow had poked through. She started there, rubbing the oil over it and his shoulders.

“I thought you were going to work on my leg,” he murmured.

“I’ll get to it. You complaining?”

“Nope. Just commenting. Carry on.”

“Yes, captain.” She noted his quick grin and mirrored it. The skin around his eye had changed to a plum color. She knew a craving to kiss it as he’d once asked her to—kiss it and make it all well. “When there’s a break in the snowfall I’ll take you to a hot spring basin where you can soak. The mineral water will fade these scars on your body and strengthen your muscles.”

“Mmmm.”

She didn’t know if that was affirmative or negative, but she could tell by the total relaxation she felt beneath her fingers that he was enjoying the massage. His spine was supple. She resisted the urge to flick aside the shirt covering his behind, figuring he’d tense up. Gradually, she turned her attention to his healing leg. The muscles were spongy and some were knotted. She worked out the knots, one by one, then patted his butt playfully.