Chapter Six
Chapter Six
Gen rose up through the murky waves of sleep and realized her nose and her toes were freezing, but the rest of her was deliciously warm. A heavy weight was draped over her waist. She twisted her head and found Laura back in human form, watching her from the startling distance of about two inches. For a split second, she froze. But his hand was relaxed against her stomach, not groping or trying to feel her up. His large body spooned hers from behind, but it didn’t seem sexual. Maybe part of her was sorry for that.
“Good morning,” she said over her shoulder.
“Are you cold?”
Laura’s voice rumbled against her back, sparking an unexpected warmth low in her belly. Gen almost groaned. He felt so good. That is, warm. Yeah, he was nice and warm. She squirmed to face him, wrestling with the blanket, and that’s when she realized it was wrapped neatly around her. Laura was just lying there wearing only his jeans, shirt, and Dean’s light jacket.
He raised the arm he’d had around her and she instantly wished it were back.
“Laura!” She heard the annoyance in her voice and tried to soften it. “You must be freezing! I’m not that much of a blanket hog.”
“You were cold,” he said simply. “You needed the blanket.”
“What about you? And…” She trailed off, noticing again how heat radiated from him. She touched her fingertips to his cheek. Warm. She touched his nose. Warm. “How are you so warm?”
He shrugged. “I think it’s a wolf warrior thing. We don’t feel the cold like humans do.” He touched her cheek and then her nose and frowned. “You’re cold. I’m doing a terrible job of taking care of you,” he muttered.
“Are you kidding me?” she burst out. “If you hadn’t been there when Mike Lundgren came, I’d probably be tied to his bed right now and …”
She broke off when a growl vibrated in his chest. Dang it all, the arousal that had seeped away while they talked roared back now. She almost whimpered. He was so warm and big and protective. So big and hard and tempting. It had been years since she’d been with a man, and she liked Laura. She looked away and forced her breathing to steady. When she looked back at his face, he was inhaling deeply with a peculiar expression on his face.
“I want to kiss you,” he growled, so deep and rough that she could feel it like a raspy tongue between her legs.
“Um,” she said stupidly. “Yes?”
His eyes snapped open. “Yes?”
She nodded, sliding her hand around to the back of his neck. “Yes.”
His fingers trembled against her cheek. At the pressure of his other arm, she followed as he sat up. Then he kissed her, the very lightest of kisses, until she opened her mouth for him. He seemed hesitant so she deepened the kiss, stroking her tongue over his. Laura gasped against her mouth and then took over the kiss, delving deep while his hands smoothed up and down her back.
Gen loved it. She loved the heat flaring in her at every glide of his tongue in her mouth, she loved the press of his muscled chest against her breasts, and she loved this feeling of being lost in the sensations he roused in her.
When he pulled away, she protested. “Don’t stop.”
“Don’t want to,” he ground out. “Someone’s coming.”
That’s when she heard the barking from outside the cabin and noticed Rabbit wasn’t there. “The dogs?”
“I let them out a little while ago.” He gently took her arms and drew them from his back. He stood and nodded at her rifle before he opened the door. Taking the hint, she scrambled to her feet and picked up the rifle. “You stay in here,” he whispered.
Yeah, right. Gen picked up the rifle, ready to follow. She blinked at the sun coming through the open door. It must be after 9:00. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept so late. Or the last time she’d slept so comfortably. But the thin mattress hadn’t been all that comfortable. Something else had been responsible for her deep sleep. She smiled at Laura’s broad shoulders.
Laura stayed within the doorway and gave a sharp whistle. The Beagle turned and galloped back to the cabin, her stumpy little legs churning up the snow. Gen didn’t whistle for Rabbit; that darned mutt would do whatever it wanted, and that had never included obeying Gen. But Laura called, “Dog, come!” in a low, hard voice, and Rabbit obediently backed up to the cabin door.
Gen lifted to her toes to peer over Laura’s shoulder at the approaching party. Four people on horseback preceded a wagon pulled by two horses driven by a young man in the driver’s bench. They stopped two hundred yards away, quietly studying the situation. All of them had rifles slanted over their laps, including the young driver.
One of the horsemen, a middle-aged man in a brown leather coat, rode closer to speak to them. Gen was envious of the sheepskin lining of the coat. It looked warm.
“Morning,” he called, his neat, graying brown mustache twitching in a brief smile. “I’m David Dupont.” He nodded at the rider beside him, also bundled in a thick, warm coat. “That’s my wife, Clare, and our boys. You’re in our cabin.”
“Morning,” Laura said. “We just stopped for the night. We’ll be on our way.”
“No need to rush off,” the woman said.
Gen felt a smile tug at her lips. It had been so long since she’d heard a woman’s voice.
“We’re making the rounds of our line cabins, restocking some supplies before full winter hits,” the woman continued. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve run out of wood.”
Gen waved over Laura’s shoulder. “We did!” she confirmed. Laura grunted and raised an arm to block her. She batted his arm back down. “Don’t be rude,” she muttered, knowing he would hear her fine.
“I don’t want strange men to see you,” he growled, shoulders stiff.
“Suck it up,” she retorted.
Laura spoke quietly without turning his head. “Gen, we don’t know them. There are four men. If they misbehave, I will hurt them.”
“Yeah, but they brought their mom along. I don’t think they will do anything stupid with her here. Besides, they have wood. I’m freezing.”
For a moment, his shoulders stayed stiff, then relaxed. “Can I help you unload?” he called.
“Could use some help carrying in the wood,” the man in the wagon replied.
Laura muttered out of the side of his mouth, “Keep your gun handy.”
Gen watched him stride toward the wagon before hurrying inside to fold the bedding.
“Getting a late start this morning?” a woman’s voice asked from the doorway.
The woman closed the door and went to the table, looking at Gen with an arched eyebrow. Gen flushed. One thing she had learned since coming to this crazy future was there was no place for laziness, not if you wanted to survive, and lazy people didn’t get any respect. She set the blankets on the floor. “We got here really late last night after walking for hours.”
“I bet you were exhausted.” The woman took off her hat and shoved it in her coat pocket, giving Gen a sharp look. “Quick, before the men come in, are you with him voluntarily?”
“Yes,” Gen said immediately.
“Are you running away from a husband?”
“No. Yes. No! I mean, there is a man who might be chasing us, but he doesn’t have the right. He wanted to marry me, but I refused him. I’m with Lau— Lobo. I want to be with Lobo.”
The woman gave her a sympathetic smile tinged with amusement. “Does Lobo have a last name?
For a moment Gen’s mind went blank. “Oh. Yeah. Wolfe. Lobo is a nickname.”
“Wolfe?” The woman’s gaze sharpened again. “From the Wolfe Clan?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, then, I’ll quit worrying about you. If you’ve taken up with one of them, I know you’re in good hands.”
Gen answered the woman’s broad smile with one of her own. “He’s been good to me.”
“Never heard of one of those Wolfes who didn’t treat a woman right. What’s your name?
“Genevieve Swanson. Call me Gen.”
“Nice to meet you, Gen. Where are you headed?”
Gen’s smile turned a bit uncomfortable. She didn’t know this woman and wasn’t sure how much she should share. “I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name, Mrs...?”
“Dupont. Call me Clare. The men should be carrying in some wood and supplies any minute now. We brought coffee. Would you like to brew a pot?”
Coffee. Gen hadn’t had coffee for over a year, and then she’d re-used the grounds until the coffee was nothing but barely colored warm water. “I would kill for a cup of coffee.” She slapped a hand over her mouth. “Not literally!” she blurted.
Clare laughed. “I understand completely. So, who is the frustrated lover you are running from?”
Gen considered dodging the questions. “Mike Lundgren.”
Something in the set of Clare’s mouth changed, turned a shade grim. “From Broken Bow? I’ve heard of him,” was all she said. “I think I hear the men.”
Gen could hear thumping and thudding outside. Clare turned to open the door and stepped back to allow two young men and Lobo to enter. Lobo and one of the men carried wood stacked in their arms, and the other carried a wooden chest.
“Coffee!” Clare pointed imperiously to the table, and the young man obediently placed the chest there.
Gen caught the quick, anxious glance Laura cast her and gave him a happy smile. “Coffee!” she informed him triumphantly.
He nodded with a faint smile and dumped the wood into the bin to one side of the fireplace. “More work,” he said briefly. “I’ll be back in soon.”
He and the kid left, and Clare closed the door. Gen stared at the door, remembering how his mouth and tongue had felt only a short time ago, until Clare cleared her throat pointedly. A fiery flush, the curse of a redhead, burned Gen’s cheeks at Clare’s knowing smile.
“Coffee?” she blurted.
“Let’s get this crate unpacked, and then we’ll get the coffee started.”
The box held two freshly washed blankets, a block of all-purpose soap that could be used to wash anything from dishes to hair, one small tin box filled with crackers, another with dried jerky, and a small burlap sack of coffee beans. Gen knew what the sack held by its tantalizing scent.
“Here.” Clare held the beans out to Gen. “You grind while I put this stuff away. The grinder is up here on this shelf.”
Gen hadn’t even noticed the row of shelves to one side of the door, filled with tin cups and plates, along with a few kitchen gadgets, like a tin coffeepot and a box with a crank on the side. Clare handed her the box and showed her how many beans should go in before arranging the items from the box around the cabin and adding wood to the fire. Gen inhaled deeply as she turned the crank, intoxicated by the heavenly scent of coffee beans. Before long, the coffee pot was hung on a hook over the fire, coffeesimmering. It was a lot different from the way she’d made coffee before the crash. Three years ago, she had taken so many things for granted. She swore she would never do that again.
By the time the coffee was ready, all the Duponts were crowded into the cabin. It was not much bigger than her little cabin, and hardly big enough for five men and two women. Laura did his best to keep Gen partly behind him. She let him only because there wasn’t much space around the table. Clare poured coffee into the five cups available, one from the pack Gen had brought from her cabin, four from the shelf by the door. Gen and Laura shared that cup. Clare and her husband shared a cup, and the three young men each had their own. The coffee was black and bitter, and Gen absolutely loved it.
“So,” said Mr. Dupont after a minute of exchanging glances with his wife. Gen had watched, fascinated by what was evidently an entire conversation carried out by eyebrows, faint nods, and lifted shoulders. “Where are you folks headed?”
Laura shrugged. “South.”
Dupont nodded and sipped coffee. “Didn’t see any horses. Just that travois contraption outside and a couple of mismatched dogs. Traveling on foot?”
Laura nodded, face giving nothing away.
At a tiny nod from his wife, he plowed on. “Going far?”
Laura gave a noncommittal grunt.
Clare grunted back. “The reason we ask,” she said impatiently, “is because we think we could help you. From what Gen told me, you have a disappointed suitor on your trail. You’d get farther away faster if you had horses.”
Gen’s mouth froze on the rim of the cup. Laura shook his head. “We have no money.”
“We’re not offering them for sale,” Mr. Dupont said quickly. “They would be a loan.”
“Why?” Laura asked bluntly. “We’re strangers.”
“Two reasons,” Clare said. “One, I hate Michael Lundgren. Two, having a member of the Wolfe Clan on our side is never a bad thing.”
Now Dupont grunted and all three of his sons looked wide-eyed at Laura. “I’m sure one of your brothers or cousins could bring the horses back to us if you can’t.”
Laura seemed to consider. He looked at Gen for a long moment and then nodded. “One horse,” he said. “Just need one for Gen. I can run.”
“She can have mine,” Clare said. “Mystic has a fast pace and she’s surefooted. I can ride in the wagon now that we’ve unloaded some of the supplies.”
The youngest of the Dupont sons cleared his throat awkwardly. “If you’re being chased by Lundgren, do you think he’s following the tracks left by the travois? Maybe we could hitch it onto one of our horses and leave a trail so he’d follow us instead of you.”
Gen blinked. “You’re some of the nicest people I’ve ever met.” She looked up at Laura. “What do you think?”
Laura’s stone face warmed. “I’m in your debt. I’ll tell the Clan about you.” He took one step back from the table. “We’ve been here long enough. Time to get going.”
“Bob, you get your mother’s saddlebags emptied and put her gear into the wagon. Sam, see if you can figure out how to get that pole thing attached to your horse. Jack, get the horses ready to ride. Clare, you smother the fire here, and then help the lady get her gear into your saddlebags. Daylight’s wasting and we have two more line cabins to get ready for winter. Let’s move.”
Only twenty minutes later, Gen sat in saddle aboard a long-legged bay mare watching Laura shake Dupont’s hand. Everything she had brought from her cabin was crammed into the two saddlebags, with a blanket within easy reach at the top of each if she got cold. Rabbit stood guard beside the mare while The Beagle played in the thin layer of snow like she hadn’t a care in the world.
“If the weather stays clear and cold, you won’t get bogged down in mud,” Dupont said. “That horse can cover forty miles in a day if you alternate between a walk and a trot, with a little cantering over clear stretches. Best of luck to you both.”
The Duponts, two in the wagon and three on horseback, moved off toward the west, leaving a confused muddle of hoof and wheel tracks scored through by the twin lines from the travois.
Gen turned Mystic’s nose south, rejoicing in the knowledge that in only two days she would be safe with Laura’s cousin’s and other women from her own time. Only two days! As long, she reminded herself, as nothing went wrong. But what could go wrong? They were so close!