Chapter Eight
Chapter Eight
Gen woke with a stiff neck. She remembered turning from one side to the other last night to ease the pressure on her hip bone. Right now, the side of her face was smashed against Laura’s chest, and the side of her hip ached from the ungiving concrete. In spite of that, she felt rested. Her teeth were fuzzy, her mouth tasted awful, and she really needed to pee, but when she remembered that today was the day she would find other women from 2014,fresh energy surged through her.
“Morning,” Laura said.
She pushed herself upright, shivering in the cold air. “Morning. What time is it?”
“About eight. Sun’s just coming up.”
“We should get going. Just let me use the facilities and I’ll be ready to go.”
He sat up, one brow raised dubiously. “You need something to eat first.”
“I can eat on the way.” She jumped up, shivering and rubbing her hands over her arms to warm herself. “Five minutes.”
She hurried to the other side of the wall and did her business. She laughed a little at herself. Three years ago, the very idea of peeing in the open with no toilet paper and cleaning her hands with sand would have appalled her. Rabbit came trotting over and licked her hands.
“Crazy mutt,” she muttered affectionately.
She went back to where Laura had put the saddle bags and dug out her comb. Her hair was a giant matted snarl. She quickly unraveled her braid, yanking the tangled sections apart, and jerked the comb through her hair with ruthless haste. Laura made a sound. Horror? Disapproval? She eyed his head which showed a thick dark stubble.
“Do you shave your head?” she asked, re-braiding her hair.
“Yeah. Once a week or so. Why?”
She shrugged. “I thought maybe you were naturally bald.”
“No. Why?”
She looked at him thoughtfully. Somehow, she couldn’t picture him with hair. “Can I touch it?”
“Okay.” He came close and bent his head a little. She smoothed her hand over his head. It felt like velvet. “It’s soft!”
“Should I let it grow?”
“It’s your hair. You should wear it the way you like.”
“Okay.” He raised a tentative hand to her braid, pausing with an inquiring brow lifted. “Can I?”
As if he hadn’t touched it before. “Sure. But it needs to be washed.”
He stroked his hand down her braid several times. “I like your hair,” he said. “A lot. You shouldn’t yank it out of your head that way. That must hurt, and I don’t like to see you hurt.”
“If I shaved it like you do, it wouldn’t be an issue.” He looked so horrified she laughed. “Don’t worry. I don’t want to shave it. I will wash it though as soon as it gets a little warmer. Or maybe I can heat up a bucket of water at your cousin’s place and wash it.”
“Taye’s den has hot running water.”
She almost dropped the comb. “Shut up,” she blurted in disbelief. When his eyebrows flew up, she said, “No, not shut up! That’s just a saying. I mean, really? Is there really a place that has hot running water?”
He nodded solemnly. “There are bathtubs and showers and sinks, and all you do is turn a lever and water comes out.”
She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. “Be still my heart.” She crammed her comb back into the bag. “What are we waiting for? Let’s get going!”
He made her eat before they left, but he folded up the blankets and made sure the fire was out while she scarfed down some crackers and dried meat, a parting gift from Clare. They were on their way to Kearney in only a few minutes. As she mounted up, she saw in the light of day that their shelter had once been a rest stop for travelers. That’s what the faded sign hanging drunkenly from a tall post said. She tried to remember what interstate highway they might be near, but the only one she could think of was I-80, and that ran east-west through the southern part of the state. This must be on a state highway. She shrugged her shoulders under her bulky coat. She didn’t know if they were following an actual road or not. There was a suggestion of a flat strip of land under a thin coating of snow, but it was interrupted by grass and scrubby bushes. Laura knew where they were going, and that was all she needed.
The day was cold but clear, and she wanted to sing Christmas carols in the worst way, but Laura cautioned her against it.
“Better to not draw attention,” he said.
The landscape had occasional trees and a few tumbled down farmhouses, but no people. There was no one whose attention could be drawn, but she didn’t argue. In the mid-morning, a couple of hours after they’d left the rest area, they passed a small flock of brown cows behind a well-maintained wooden fence, so Gen knew they weren’t the only humans around. They didn’t see anyone, or even any houses, but no fence would look so solid unless someone took care of it.
Sometimes, when the land was level and mostly bare of snow, Gen cantered for fifteen or twenty minutes before slowing to a trot and then a walk. Every hoofbeat meant they were that much closer to Laura’s cousins and their women and hot running water. At the moment, she wasn’t sure which she was anticipating more.
Laura trotted alongside her without ever breaking a sweat, even when she cantered. Gen kept an eye on The Beagle, checking to see if she was able to keep up, but beagles had great stamina. They’d been bred for hunting, not lounging on pillows, and Laura had traveled with her for years. Though she’d recently been ill, she was a better traveler than Rabbit, who seemed to flag sooner. Rabbit hadn’t gone on week-long cross-country jaunts like The Beagle had.
They stopped around midday to give the horse and the dogs water and rest and to eat a little more of the crackers and dried bread.
Gen walked while she ate, stretching her legs to keep the kinks from settling in. “How much farther, do you think?”
Laura scratched the stubble on his head. “Twenty miles. Maybe a little less. It’ll be dark by the time we get there, but it won’t be midnight. A little after supper time.” He nodded at Mystic. “That’s a good horse.”
Gen swore someday she would find Clare and give her a big hug. “Yes, she is.”
They traveled for four more hours, and the sun was low in the sky before they finally saw another person. Gen had to squint into the sun’s glare to see two men on horseback. They rode toward them from the south. That made Gen relax a little in the saddle. Mike Lundgren wouldn’t be coming from the south. Kearney was less than eight miles away, so maybe seeing more people wasn’t unusual. Maybe they should have been seeing more people all along. This was a more heavily populated region than Broken Bow. But Gen hadn’t traveled anywhere since Dean had brought her to his cabin, so what did she know?
Laura held out a hand and motioned for her to ride behind him. Since she was on horseback and he was on foot she wasn’t hidden from the strangers. She eased her rifle out of the loops on the saddle and held it slanted over her thighs, watching the two riders get closer. If this was the Times Before and they’d been in cars or trucks, they would have lifted a hand or even just a forefinger from the steering wheel in a salute as they passed each other. She wasn’t sure what the etiquette was in this situation.
Laura moved forward at a slow, steady pace. Gen followed him, still squinting. Would they just nod at each other as they passed? Was it considered courteous to pause to exchange greetings? Gen wasn’t sure what she expected, but it wasn’t for one of the men to fire a pistol. She was still staring when Laura grunted and fell back.
Gen gaped with incomprehension for a minute until her brain processed what had happened. “Oh my God,” she gasped.
She fumbled with her rifle, hands and reins tangling as she tried to bring it up to shoot over her horse’s head. She got a shot off but missed. The mare, bless her, stood like a rock. The men whooped and rode at her at a gallop. A quick glance saw Laura ripple into a wolf bound by his clothes. Red stained what had been the shoulder of his light jacket. Oh, God.
Who’s screaming? she wondered blearily before realizing it was her. A million thoughts flew through her mind at once. She had to help Laura. Was he dead? She had to escape from these two murderers. She had to shoot them! Shockingly, The Beagle threw herself at the galloping horse, baying frantically until a hoof clipped her and sent her tumbling to the side.
“Murderer!” Gen screamed and shot again. This time she must have at least winged one, because he slid a little in the saddle. Rabbit lunged and sank his teeth into the man’s leg, trying to yank him to the ground.
There was howling and baying and Gen added her screams to the dogs’ battle cries. But … The Beagle lay unmoving on her side and Rabbit had a mouthful of the wounded man’s boot… Who was howling?
Laura had struggled to his four paws, nose tilted up in a howl to the quickly darkening twilit sky. It was weak. Multiple, stronger howls joined his, coming from a distance, but not so far away. Gen thought they were getting closer. She lined up another shot at the other man, who was still riding straight for her. He was too close! She hit him this time, hard enough to knock him off his horse.
“And I’m not sorry,” she screamed at his body as it thudded on the ground.
Another thud jerked her gaze around to the man —no, the wolf in Dean’s torn clothes— collapsed on the snowy ground. “Oh, God, Laura!”
She dismounted in a rush, catching her foot in the stirrup and hopping a few times until she got free. She clutched her rifle tight as two huge wolves came at her. Her gaze darted from them to Laura and back. There were definite similarities between the three wolves.
“I hope you are friends,” she told them, not quite daring to aim her rifle at them.
One of the wolves circled back to sniff at the man she’d shot and then loped to Rabbit’s side. Her dog was standing guard over the man she’d winged, lips curled in a snarl. The wolf who had remained with her blurred into a naked man. Actually, he was a teenager with long black hair in two braids.
“Maybe I’m hallucinating,” she speculated, fixing her gaze on his handsome face and not letting it drift lower.
He shook his head. “We’re friends. I’m Stone.” It seemed like he hesitated over the name for a moment before going on. “That’s Snake. We better check on Lobo.”
She abandoned Clare’s horse and ran to where Laura the wolf lay. Dropping to her knees in the snow she set her rifle down to touch the top of his furry head. Warm. He was breathing, but the amount of blood soaking the jacket and the snow drove her into a near panic.
“Laura?” she moaned.
The wolf’s eyes opened. There was a blur of heat and then Laura, the man, lay on the bloody snow. He looked at the teenager crouching beside her and pointed a weak finger at her. “My. Mate,” he managed to say.
“Me and Snake will keep her safe,” the teen said solemnly.
Laura gave a half nod before his eyes closed and his face went slack.
“Laura? Laura!”
The terror in Gen’s chest eased when she saw his chest rise and fall with steady breathing. He wasn’t dead. She forced herself to take one breath before going to work on him. She wasn’t a doctor, but animals and humans had some things in common. The first thing she needed to do was stop the bleeding.
The teen —Stone, she reminded herself— had incredible strength. He helped tear Dean’s jacket and shirt off Laura and made strips of the clean parts. Gen cleaned the blood and froze, staring at the neat hole in Laura’s chest. It was a little to the right of the heart, and it wasn’t bleeding. She thought for one horrified moment that he had bled out. But no, his chest was still rising and falling as he breathed. The breathing was steady, no rasping or whistling to indicate the lung had been punctured.
“We better get that bullet out before it seals up,” the kid said matter-of-factly.
“Seals up?” she echoed.
But she could see what he meant. The skin around the hole was angry red, but the hole looked slightly smaller than it had been. And no more blood was escaping.
“You heal fast,” she said stupidly. “I don’t have a surgical kit.”
“Oh, well,” said Stone in philosophical tones. “The doc will have to open him back up once we get him back to the den. I think Stag will be there by now.”
“You better run back and get help,” a new voice said.
Gen looked up at the other man who had been a wolf. He was a little older than Stone and had dark wavy hair that he wore in a long ponytail. He was naked too.
Stone jerked a thumb at her. “His mate,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”
The teenager blurred into a wolf and took off down the road. Bynow it was dark, so Gen lost track of him quickly. She shrugged, feeling like she was almost getting used to naked men and wolves, before turning back to the other man. What had Stone said his name was?
“I’m Gen Swanson.”
“Snake Wolfe.”
“I need to get the blankets from the saddlebags to cover Laura up.”
“I’ll get them. This mare over here?”
“Yeah,” Gen said.
While he went to Mystic, Gen stared at the other horses. Both had wandered a little distance away. Then she saw The Beagle, a crumpled brown and black lump lying on the snow.
“Oh no.” She rushed to the dog, but there was nothing for her to do. The Beagle was dead, her skull crushed by the horse’s hoof.
Gen stared numbly, hot tears scalding her eyes. Laura loved that little dog. Why had this happened? She whirled, looking for a target for her horror and grief. One of the men lay as still as The Beagle. The other, still under Rabbit’s growling guard, sat in the snow. Gen started for him, fury clenching her hands. “Why?” she screamed at him, the urge to shoot him so strong she reached for her rifle.
Where was her rifle? She glanced back and realized that she had left it beside Laura. She took a breath as the other naked man, Snake, walked over to her. His face was hard and cold.
“Yes,” he said softly. “Why did you shoot my cousin?”
The man cringed back and glanced frantically at his companion, lying several yards away.
“He’s dead,” Snake said. “So don’t look at him for help.”
That stopped Gen. “I killed him?” she whispered.
“Yes, ma’am, you did,” Snake said in a congratulatory tone. His voice hardened. “You. Why did you shoot my cousin?”
The man licked his lips. “Didn’t mean to. We just wanted the woman.”
Snake looked disgusted. “I know you, Brad West. You already have a wife.”
“Not for us! Her husband wants her back. Big rancher up by Broken Bow. He promised three cows and a bull to anyone who returned his wife to him.”
“What?” Gen managed to keep her voice from a shriek. “I’m not married to anyone! I told Mike Lundgren I wasn’t interested in being his wife. And I only left Broken Bow a few days ago. How did he hire you so soon? Is he here?”
“No. He sent a message by pigeon,” Brad West said.
“Pigeon?” Gen blinked. “Like a carrier pigeon?”
Snake nodded. “It’s a new thing. You married?”
Gen swallowed. “No. Mike Lundgren wanted to marry me. I would have refused him anyway, but once I met Laura, I knew I would never marry Mike. He asked me again just a few days ago, and I told him no. That’s when Laura and I headed south to meet up with his cousins in Kearney. You?”
“That’s us,” Snake confirmed. He was staring at Brad with something like pitying disbelief. “You thought some cattle was a good trade for stealing the mate of a wolf warrior?”
“Didn’t know about him! If I’d known that, I never would have had anything to do with it.” He looked pleadingly at Gen. “I’m sorry, lady. I just wanted to have a start for a herd. I’m bleeding.”
Snake grunted. “You’re lucky you’re alive to bleed.”
Brad obviously knew which of his interrogators was the more soft-hearted, and it wasn’t Snake. He looked at Gen. “Ma’am, I am sorry. Really sorry. I have a wife. We’re going to have a baby. I need stock to get my ranch up and running so I can support them. I thought you’d run away from your husband. I’m sorry.”
Weariness swamped Gen. “Go home to your wife,” she said, turning away. “Just get out of here.”
Snake grunted. “You sure?”
“Yeah. He’s not the one to blame. That is Mike Lundgren. Rabbit! Come!”
“Take your friend with you,” Snake ordered Brad.
Rabbit growled again but moved away from Brad. Snake followed her back to Laura and sat with her while they waited for help to come. Brad West struggled to lift his friend to his horse’s back and mounted his own horse and rode off. Snake watched with hard eyes.
“How long do you think before that other fella falls off?” Snake wondered out loud.
Gen held Laura’s hand, listening to his steady breaths with relief twisted by grief and a little guilt. She hadn’t meant to kill that man. She couldn’t entirely regret it. He had shot Laura. She’d known Laura only a few days, but she knew how much he loved his dog. It made her heart ache to know how much the loss of The Beagle would hurt him. How was she going to tell him about The Beagle?
Her eyes filled with tears as wonder fought with discomfort inside her. Did she care that much about his feelings? It had been only a few days. Was this love?
His eyes blinked and his mouth moved into a brief smile. He squeezed her hand. “Hey,” he rasped. “Don’t cry.”
“Okay,” she choked out. “How are you?”
“Tired. Gonna rest.”
His eyes closed. She lifted his big, callused hand to her cheek. Maybe she did love him.