Deborah Camp (44 page)

“Ghostwalker.”

She smiled. “Your Indian name. You’re a legend now.”

“Ha!” He nuzzled the side of her neck and nipped her ear lobe. She squealed and sprang from his lap. “I’ve got to see to the horses. When I saw Feet Like Wind, I handed them over to the dogs.”

“I’ll start supper.”

He smacked her backside and she squeaked a protest and giggled. Her eyes danced with diamond dust and Tucker felt their magic in his loins. He made a grab for her, but she eluded him.

“Go see to the horses,” she said, laughing.

“I got an itch I want you to scratch first.”

She wagged a finger at him, but didn’t bolt. Her eyes urged him to tackle her. He made his move, she sidestepped. He caught her sleeve and hauled her against his chest. Her mouth bloomed under his. His heartbeats galloped in his ears. Copper turned her head, breaking contact far too soon for his tastes.

“Listen, Tucker. Someone’s coming.”

He held his breath and realized it had been hoofbeats, not heartbeats he’d been hearing. He retrieved the rifle just as Harlon Moss burst into the clearing on a heaving, sweaty bay mare. He reined the mare so sharply that she reared and tried to buck. Harlon Moss was out of the saddle before the horse could settle on all fours again. “Copper, you gotta come!” Harlon looked like a wild man as he grasped Copper’s forearm. His shirt was buttoned in the wrong holes and he had his hat on backwards. “It’s Flower!”

“What’s happened?” Copper asked, catching his fear and concern.

“She’s having her baby early and it’s killin’ her. She’s been paining since after y’all left and then she started bleedin’ a little. She sent me for you. She said she needed womanly help. Something’s bad wrong, Copper. She never had this kind of trouble before.”

Copper nodded. “Yes, yes. I’ll come with you. Let me grab some things and get Valor.” She dashed inside the cabin.

Harlon removed his hat and put it back on in a distracted gesture. He stared at nothing, his mouth twitching, his eyes blinking.

“She’ll pull through,” Tucker said, feeling useless. He landed a hand on Harlon’s bony shoulder. “She’s strong.”

“You didn’t see her this morning. Weak as a kitten, she was. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s not dead by the time we get there. You think Copper could use her medicine to bring her back like she did you?”

Tucker started to tell him he was talking crazy, but his heart cautioned him against it. “Copper will do everything in her power to pull Floating Flower through, Harlon. You know that.”

“She was so sick, so pale. And the children are scared they’ll lose her. She’s come to mean so much to them—and to me.”

Tucker swallowed the lump in his throat. He knew exactly how the man felt and that no amount of consoling would help. The only thing that would ease Harlon’s misery was for Floating Flower to be alive when they returned and for her health to improve.

Valor wailed inside the cabin. Tucker shrugged.

“She just put the baby down for a nap,” he explained.

“I’m sorry to do this, but Flower said she needed Copper.”

“It’s okay, Harlon. Copper wants to help out.”

Copper came out of the cabin with Valor strapped to her back in the cradleboard and a blanket filled with herbs and salves and other kinds of medicine bundles. She looked around her.

“Where’s Ranger?”

“Oh, hell!” Tucker whacked his own forehead. “I’ve been standing here jawing when I should have saddled that nag for you. I’ll go get him.”

“Just get a halter. I’ll get Ranger.” She placed two fingers in her mouth and whistled. Ranger came running, swishing his tail and flinging his long, white mane as if he already knew of the mission ahead.

Tucker ran to the stables and grabbed a halter and saddle blanket. He put a halter on Brave and led him to the cabin. Harlon was back in the saddle and anxious to be on his way, but Tucker motioned him to dismount.

“You need a fresh horse, friend. Put your saddle on this one.”

“Naw. This one will do.”

“Harlon, get off that winded windbag and take Brave here.”

“Yes, Harlon, do,” Copper chimed in. “We’ll get there faster on fresh horses.”

Outnumbered, Harlon changed horses. Tucker flung the blanket over Ranger’s back and then stepped in front of him to halter him. Ranger snapped his teeth menacingly.

“Watch that business, damn you,” Tucker growled, and the pinto pinned his ears back, but let Tucker secure the halter. Tucker handed Copper the rope reins. Copper placed a hand on his shoulder and propped one foot against his hip. With a hop, she was astride Ranger and in command.

“Be careful,” Tucker said, resting a hand high on her thigh.

Her eyes loved him. “You, too. I’ll be back in a few days if not sooner.”

“Don’t worry about anything here. If I don’t see you in a few days, I’ll come to you.”

She leaned down for a light, lingering kiss. Harlon leaped into the saddle and spurred Brave into a gallop through the trees.

“Go on,” Tucker said, stepping back. “God speed.”

After she rode away, loneliness swamped him. It was joined by worry two days later.

I
t was dusk when Ranger trotted into the clearing. The cabin was dark. Disappointed at not being met with open arms and a big smile, Copper shifted Valor from one hip to the other and stared at the gloomy, still cabin. Panic jabbed needles in her. Was he gone? Had he seized the chance to leave her with no sentimental farewells?

Tears pricked her eyes and her heart seemed to deflate in her chest. Sentry whined and leaped in front of Ranger.

“Where’s Tucker?” she asked the black-and-white blur.

The herder tipped his head at the name, then whirled and raced halfway to the stables before stopping and turning back toward her. Copper released a sigh. In the stables… he’s in the stables! She tapped her heels against Ranger’s sides and he cantered to the shelter. Valor felt like a lead weight. Copper glanced at the baby and wondered at an infant’s ability to sleep under any condition.

Copper slid off Ranger’s back, glad to be on her feet again, although she was so tired she could hardly put one foot in front of the other. It had been three days and two nights of emotional turmoil. She removed Ranger’s halter and saddle blanket and let him loose in the corral, then followed Sentry into the stables. Lantern light brightened
the interior. She blinked and waited for her eyes to adjust. Tucker squatted in the corner where Courage lay on her side. The mare’s swollen belly moved, rippled. Courage blew out a noisy, pain-ridden breath.

“Easy, girl,” Tucker said in a soothing voice as he rested a hand on the horse’s stomach. “Are we getting close, girl? You going to have that foal before tomorrow?”

“She’s foaling?” Copper asked, and Tucker swiveled on the balls of his feet to face her.

A smile split his face. “Thank God,” he breathed. Rising to his feet, he held out his arms and met her halfway across the hay-strewn ground. His lips moved against her temple in a sweet kiss. “Sugar, sugar, sugar. I’m so glad you’re back. How you doing? You hungry? Courage has been like this since morning. Is this her first foal? Seems like I can feel more than four hooves. There’s a lot of foal in her, maybe enough for two.”

She laughed and retreated. “You’re crushing this poor baby.” She laid Valor against her shoulder. “Which question do you want me to answer first? Twins? You think Courage is having twins?”

“Either that or she’s got a whopping big foal in her.” He ran a hand over the top of Copper’s head. “God, it’s good to have you back.”

Copper started to tell him how frantic she had been a minute ago when she’d thought he might have packed up and left her, but she bit down on the admission. “I’ll put Valor to bed and come back out here to help you.”

“There’s nothing much going on yet. Have you had your supper?”

“No.”

“Eat something and rest. I’ll come fetch you when Courage gets down to business.”

She hated to leave him even for a few minutes,
but her maternal instincts were overpowering. Copper gave him a peck on his sandpapery cheek and took Valor to the cabin.

The familiar objects comforted her as she dressed Valor for bed and fed her a little more milk. It was only when she started for the cradle that she saw the baby bed where the cradle had been.

“Oh, my!” She ran her free hand over the scrolled work, lovingly etched by Tucker’s hand. Tears formed in her eyes as she laid Valor to rest in the beautiful bed. “That man, Valor,” Copper, whispered. “How will we ever live without that man?”

She admired every inch of the bed before wiping away her tears so that she could see to fry fatback and wrap it in potato pancakes. She made a fresh pot of coffee before letting Sentry inside. Snapping her fingers in front of the baby bed, she motioned for the dog.

“Lay down right here, boy. If Valor wakes up or anything, you let me know, okay? I’ll be out in the stables.” She ruffled the dog’s fur and scratched between his ears.

Taking the food and coffee pot with her, she returned to the stables. The night had spread stars across the sky. A full moon sailed on high. The air was redolent with green, mossy, growing things. Only a few patches of dirty, stubborn snow dotted the ground. She found Tucker sitting against the wall across from Courage, eyes closed, face in repose. He opened his eyes slowly and grinned when she handed him one of the sandwiches.

“You haven’t eaten either, have you?” she asked.

“Not since breakfast. Thanks. That coffee smells good, too.”

“We’ll need it. Courage doesn’t seem to be near birth.”

“I think she’ll foal before sunrise.”

“The baby bed is lovely, Tucker.”

He grinned, eyes shining. “You really like it, do you?”

“I love it. So does Valor.”

He held out one of the tin cups she’d brought and she poured hot, black coffee into it. “I’m glad. I thought it was high time that little girl had herself a real bed.”

“And you’ve been working on it out here?”

“Away from a nosy woman,” he admitted with a wink. He tasted the coffee and nodded his approval, then fixed serious eyes on her. “Hey, how’d it go? Boy or girl?”

Copper winced, involuntarily. “Boy.”

Tucker examined her over the rim of the cup. “What’s wrong? Is Flower okay?”

“Yes … no.” She shook her head. “The baby died, Tucker.”

“Oh, darlin’, no.” He set the cup to one side and took one of her hands between his. “What about Flower?”

“She’s well, but she’s upset. I stayed an extra day to comfort her. I know what it’s like to lose a child.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I don’t want to cry again. That’s all I’ve been doing since I left here.”

He rested a hand against her cheek and swept aside a rolling tear with his thumb. “Let’s eat, sugar. We’ll both feel better after we’ve gotten something in our stomachs and we’ve rested a bit.”

She nodded, glad for the reprieve. Still wobbly from her brush with death at the hands of the Gros Ventre, she hadn’t been prepared for the ordeal of delivering Floating Flower’s desperately ill baby. The baby’s death had made her relive the demise of her first child and it seemed that the world was draped in black and gray. Even thinking about Tucker and the light he’d brought to her soul and heart hadn’t lifted her depression.

Having not eaten a complete meal since she’d left, Copper found the sandwich tasted wonderful. The coffee was liquid strength, warming her cold spots and burning away the fuzzy edges in her mind. When she finished the meal, she curled against Tucker’s side and he placed an arm around her shoulders and back. Soon she drifted to sleep.

When she awoke it was still night, but closer now to sunrise. She lay curled on her side. Reaching out, she patted the ground in search of Tucker. When she didn’t find him, she sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Tucker was attending to Courage. The horse moaned and thrashed her hind legs. Tucker braced himself and pulled.

“Is she foaling?” Copper asked, moving across to him on hands and knees.

“She’s trying,” he said between gritted teeth.

“Twins?”

“No. Just one, huge, ornery foal. Its head is as big as an anvil. Come on, damn you!” He stuck a hand in and felt around, his eyes trained upward, but seeing inward. “If she doesn’t get this one out soon, she’s going to die trying.”

“Is something wrong? Is the foal in trouble?”

“I told you, the foal is a monster. Let me try to …” He grunted and continued his blind groping inside the miserable mare. “If I could get him pointed the right way … there … I’ve got his legs. Come here, you mean, stubborn jackass.”

“You think it’s a colt?”

“I hate to even imagine a filly this ornery.” He planted his feet. “Get around there and place your hands on her belly. Tell me when she has her next contraction.”

Copper stepped around to the mare and knelt beside her. Courage rolled her eyes and peeled back her lips in agony. Copper laid one hand on the mare’s taut belly and stroked her neck, which was wet with sweat.

“It’s almost over, Courage. I know you can
make it. One more mighty push and you’ll have your first baby.” She felt the muscles contract beneath her palm. “Now, Tucker.”

“Press hard against her, Copper,” he commanded even as he shoved his hands into the mare. “Now, press, push! Come on, Courage. I know you’re tired, but push, girl, push!” He groaned and struggled, yanking and pulling and gritting his teeth against the injustice all females suffered for mankind.

“It can’t die,” Copper said, sobbing, crying, releasing all the woe that had been heaped on her of late. “Courage, please! Help us. Not another dead baby. Not another!”

Tucker glanced at her, stricken by the tears striping her face and the anguish breaking her voice. In that instant he experienced her weariness and her exposed, raw nerves. The lady legend was flesh and blood and full of old pain and renewed pathos.

“Take it easy now,” he said, more to Copper than to the straining mare. The straw in front of him was stained with pink, sticky fluid. He gripped the slippery front legs of the foal and pulled again. “Get out of there, damn your hide!” he bellowed, enraged and fearful that the mare would succumb.