Chapter Five
Chapter Five
It was late in the afternoon and the sun was low in the sky by the time they left. Gen felt an unexpected tug on her heart when she surveyed the empty cabin. The bedframe and stove were still there, but her clothes, mattress, bedding, and supplies were packed. She had recuperated in this little cabin after the plane crash. Dean had pulled her through the snow on a sled behind his horse to this place, and for three years this had been home. She closed the door behind her for the last time.
Closing that door opened another. She smiled at Laura, waiting for her with his handmade travois. The cottonwood poles he’d cut this morning had her thin mattress stretched between them, much like a hammock, but not quite that loose. The copper tub was strapped to the travois and filled with a bundle of her remaining belongings: a small pot, two sets of clothes, three pairs of socks, all her blankets, and all the food she had left. The Beagle panted happily beside Laura while Rabbit stood watch a few yards away. This was it. She was starting over.
“Ready?” Laura asked.
Gen pulled her handknit hat further down to cover her ears. “I’m ready.”
Laura stepped between the poles and raised them to his chest. Side by side, they left the cabin yard and crossed the creek before turning south.
Rabbit loped ahead, sometimes circling back to check on his humans. The Beagle trotted gamely ahead of them at first, but after a mile she flagged. Gen picked her up and set her on the travois. She was feeling tired too. The snow was only five or six inches deep, but it was heavy going. She wouldn’t complain though. Laura was dragging the travois through the snow, so he must be even more tired than she was.
Not that anyone would ever guess it by watching him. His long, strong legs covered the snowy ground with ease. The sun set an hour after they’d left the cabin. Gen forced herself to walk next to Laura, but she didn’t talk and neither did he. After an hour of wading through unbroken snow, Gen dropped back to walk in the drag tracks left by travois. That was easier, but she was exhausted long before Laura stopped.
“Gen, are you okay?”
She dragged up some bloodless enthusiasm at the concern in his voice. “Oh, sure. Just a little tired. Didn’t sleep much last night.”
He wasn’t wearing a coat, much less a hat, and Gen’s feet in their boots were like blocks of ice. Laura frowned at her. “You should ride with The Beagle.”
“Tempting, but I’m warmer when I’m moving.”
The frown deepened. Gen was pretty sure it was worry, not anger. “There’s a cabin about five miles ahead, a little to the west. Can you make it that far?”
“You bet,” she said stoutly.
Those were the hardest, coldest five miles Gen had ever gone. The thought that there were still seventy miles to go after that made her want to cry. It’s worth it, she told herself fiercely. You’ll see women like you at the end of it.You can do it. Just one foot forward at a time.
She almost plodded right past Laura when he stopped. She was too numb to comprehend he was pointing to something ahead. It took a few moments for her brain fog to clear, and then she recognized the outlines of a cabin in the dark, only a few yards away.
Laura dragged the travois ahead and set the poles down. Gen stumbled after him and waited for him to open the door. He leaned his head in to check out the interior.
“It’s empty,” he said.“You go on in. I’ll unpack the travois.”
The cabin seemed very dark compared to the moonlight outside, reflecting off the snow. She waited for her eyes to adjust and saw the cabin’s contents were sparse.
A thin mattress lay on the floor in one corner, and a low table stood in the center of the cabin, bearing a match box and a cluster of candles in holders. Gen fumbled to take her mittens off, but her hands were literally frozen stiff.
Laura stepped past her to strike a match and light the candles. In the new light, Gen could see aready fireplace,with kindling laid out in the grate and logs stacked nearby.
“It’s like someone expected us,” she remarked with wonder.
“It’s a line cabin.”
Oh. She had heard of those. Line cabins were cabins that were always ready for travelers or cowboys who rode out to check on stock. Anyone could stay, with the understanding they would use only the supplies they needed, and would replenish whatever supplies they used as soon as they could.
Laura handed her the matchbox. “Can you light the fire while I bring in our stuff?”
Gen shook out her hands and took the matches. “Sure.”
It was cold in the cabin, and her hands were still stiff enough to make it tricky to start the fire. She was patient though, gradually feeding it larger slivers of wood until she had a small, secure blaze established. There wasn’t much wood in the bin, but enough to get through the night.
When she heard the click of claws on the wooden floor she turned. The Beagle had found some energy and trotted over to the cold rug in front of the fire. She plopped her butt down and leaned against Gen.
“She likes you,” Laura remarked.
Gen stroked the dog’s head. “She’s doing a lot better. I didn’t see any gastric distress in her while we walked tonight. I think it is time to let her have some solid food.”
Laura unwrapped the blankets from her bundle and crouched to spread them by the fire to warm. He reached over to pet his dog. “Thanks for taking care of her. What do you think it was?”
“Probably something she ate.” Gen could feel the heat coming off him, even better than the heat from the fire, and had to make a conscious effort to not lean against him. “Is Rabbit still outside?”
He nodded. “Probably hunting. Are you hungry?”
Hungry, cold, and tired, but she only said, “I am. Do you want to split a loaf of bread and the cheese?”
“You eat. We don’t have much food and you need it more than I do.”
She was about to protest when he suddenly laid a hand on her cheek. His brows pulled together.
“You’re cold.”
“Duh,” Gen said. “I’ve been out walking through the snow in the dark for the past six hours.”
He made a sound in his chest that she couldn’t interpret. Distress? Alarm? Maybe remorse. His arm came around her and pulled her against his side while his free hand rubbed briskly over her arm and back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think. I forgot how cold it can be for humans.”
Gen leaned against him and let his heat seep into her. It was heavenly. She knew he hadn’t showered in at least a day, but he smelled good. “It’s okay. I know we had to get away.”
He made that same sound. “I have to take better care of you.”
“Hey!” She forced herself to pull back from his marvelous warmth. “It’s fine. While we were moving it was okay. Now that I’m just sitting, I can feel the cold, but the fire is going. I’ll warm up soon.” To change the topic, she added, “Do you think Mike Lundgren will come after us?”
His brows pulled together over his nose. “Maybe. I was going to go out and scout a bit before we slept, but with you this cold…”
“Hey!” she said again, more forcefully. “I’m fine. You go do what you need to do. I’ll have a little bread and cheese and make a cup of hot tea and sit by the fire with the blankets wrapped around me.”
He looked hesitant so she punched him in the shoulder. He looked surprised but didn’t have the decency to pretend it hurt. In fact, her fist probably hurt worse than his shoulder.
“I swear, Lawrence, if you treat me like a helpless baby, you will regret it.”
Laura heaved a deep sigh and pulled her back. “Ouch,” he said mildly. “What will you do?”
She realized he was teasing her. Delighted, she scowled and jabbed her finger into his chest. “You don’t want to know.”
They sat like that for a minute, Gen resting against Laura’s warm side with The Beagle leaning against her. Laura gently disengaged from her and stood up. She immediately missed his warmth. He went to her bundle and got the little pot and her tin cup, and the bread and cheese, and one of her precious tea bags, and brought them to her.
“I’ll be back in about an hour.”
“Okay.” Gen took the things he brought her and almost dropped them when he unbuttoned his jeans. “What are you doing?”
He didn’t look at her. “Don’t want to rip them when I let my wolf out. Faster and better to let him scout. Might find something to hunt for The Beagle too. She can eat the bread, but cheese gives her gas.” He wrinkled his nose. “Rank gas. Will you get the door for me?”
Her mouth hung open as he slid the jeans down his long legs, revealing the fine butt she’d admired this morning. No, it wasn’t the first time she had seen it, but it was just as good as she remembered. And as she gazed at him something happened. It wasn’t flashing lights or fireworks, but a quick, fierce heat and a slight distortion that rippled the air, and then Laura was gone, replaced by a wolf with a thick gray pelt. The wolf trotted to the door and stopped to look back at her.
Holy crap. Gen opened her mouth soundlessly at least three times before managing, “Uh, I’ll, uh. Uh. I’ll get the door.”
She clambered to her feet with great effort and went to the door. The wolf’s head was the same height as the doorknob. She looked down at the wolf wordlessly. What words were appropriate when the man who wanted to marry you had golden eyes in dense gray fur and a muzzle full of teeth made to rip flesh? Groping for something to say, she opened the door.
“Have fun,” she blurted, manically cheerful.
The wolf trotted out and Gen closed the door before sliding bonelessly down the wall to sit on the floor. She stared at the Beagle, who still sat in front of the fire. “Huh,” she said. “I guess he is a wolf.” She swallowed, remembering his explanation. “Or he has a wolf. Whatever.” She swallowed again. “Supper?”
*
The wolf trotted away from the cabin, hating to leave his newfound mate behind, but knowing it was to keep her safe from the enemy. The wolf growled. An enemy who dared claim a wolf’s mate should die! Part of his lupine heart wished the enemy would come so he could kill him. The man his mate called Laura hadn’t allowed him to kill the enemy earlier. The wolf let out an unhappy growl at that memory. It was true the enemy hadn’t touched his mate, since she had been wise enough to stay behind a locked door. If the enemy had laid a fingertip on his mate, Laura could have done nothing to keep the wolf from tearing out his throat.
He loped through the snow, sniffing and searching for the enemy or any other human who might cause trouble. There was nothing to show any enemy in the area. He did see a squirrel that would make a meal for The Beagle, so he pounced, whipped his head back and forth to break its neck, and carried it with him back to the cabin. There, he dropped the squirrel on the doorstep and allowed the man to come out, content to enjoy the wonderful scent of his mate that flowed out when the man opened the door.
The cabin was lit only by the banked coals of the fire. Lobo could see clearly enough in that dim light. His mate curled on her side in a nest of blankets on the mattress she had dragged close to the hearth, deeply asleep with The Beagle pressed against her legs and Rabbit pressed against her back. Her dog must have returned, and she’d let him in. AsLobo shook the wolf to the back of his mind, he noted her rifle close at hand with approval.
The Beagle lifted her head and wiggled to her paws, tail whipping back and forth with excitement. Gen didn’t stir. Lobo let the dog out to do her business and eat the squirrel. When The Beagle finished her messy meal, Lobo tossed what was left of the carcass as far from the cabin as he could. No sense in luring other predators to the scent of meat.
He and The Beagle went back inside. The Beagle hurried back to her place beside Gen, and Lobo envied his dog. He would like to snuggle close to his mate too, but Gen hadn’t given him permission to do that, so he settled against the wall and drank in the sight of her. He loved the spill of her red hair falling out of its braid to drape over her shoulder. Someday that red braid would spill over him.
As he watched, her shoulder quaked. Lobo frowned when he heard her teeth chatter. “Gen?” he called softly. “You awake?”
She didn’t respond, so he looked around the dim cabin, searching for another blanket or something to drape over her. He didn’t see anything, and the wood bin was almost empty. He cursed himself. He should have checked the box before he’d left. Normally he didn’t worry about a fire, especially if he had a place to den out of the wind, but his mate needed the warmth of a fire. Lobo clenched his fists. He was making too many mistakes! Why should she accept a mate who couldn’t take care of her?
“Gen?” he said, more loudly. “Gen!”
She mumbled something through shivers. “C-c-cold,” she said.
Lobo looked at the single slender log and handful of sticks in the wood bin. It wouldn’t be right to use up all the wood. The next visitors would need something. Lobo didn’t think he’d have time to replace what they’d used. He wanted to get back on the road as soon as possible tomorrow to put distance between them and that Mike Lundgren character.
“Gen, can I lay down behind you? You’ll be warmer that way.”
She didn’t look at him, but her head jerked up and down in a nod. “Cold,” she said again.
His heart thudded against his ribs as lowered himself to his side on the narrow mattress and gathered his mate against him. She pressed her back against his chest, and soon they were molded to each other, his thighs cradling hers, his arms wrapped around her blanketed shoulders. He closed his eyes and inhaled. She smelled so good! He silently cursed his body when it responded to her nearness. Maybe she wouldn’t notice through the blanket. Gradually, her shivers decreased and she relaxed against him. Long before his erection subsided, she started snoring. He hoped someday they could lie like this without clothes or blankets between them. Someday.
For now, this was enough. Content, Lobo leaned his cheek against Gen’s head and guarded his mate while she slept.