Journey of Honor A love story (20 page)

Wondering what he was up to, she secured the wagon cover back over the hoops and tied the flaps closed, hurriedly tethered the cow and calf in place, and then clamored onto the seat. After brushing the snow off, she untied the lines and snapped them at the mules, and glancing around one last time, headed up the trail behind ManyFeathers’ snow-whitened horse.

Giselle had no idea what he was up to, but she would be eternally grateful for his help in lifting Trace into the wagon. She honestly didn’t know how she would have ever gotten him in without his help. She prayed again in gratitude and wondered if Many Feathers realized that he had been the answer to prayer just now. She looked ahead to his silhouette that was blurred by the thickening storm and wished she could speak his language to thank him.

She drove the wagon up the trail that became less and less discernable in the deepening snow and searched all around them for any sign of a place where they could turn off to find shelter. There were occasional hills and even some cliffs around the creek bed, but there wasn’t much that looked promising in the short distance before the snow cut off visibility.

At one point, there was a steep bank off to the left, and she started to pull the wagon into its meager shelter when Many Feathers turned back and spoke to her. He was shaking his head and gesturing to the fore and she hesitated, wondering what to do. Finally, she looked at him and he met her eyes and said something with conviction and pointed. She nodded and slapped the reins to the mules and headed on. He wanted her to follow him and she decided she would do just that. He didn’t seem to be trying to harm her and she felt like she should trust him just now.

By the time Many Feathers reached their destination, the snow was eight or ten inches deep and the mules were having a hard pull of it. When Giselle realized he had led her directly to a large cave in the bend of the creek bank, she was indescribably grateful. She pulled the wagon up alongside the opening to the cave and hadn’t even gotten the brake set and the lines tied off before Many Feathers spoke to her, nodded, and rode off into the gathering gloom of the storm. She wished there was a way to thank him, but she didn’t even have the chance before he disappeared.

She climbed down from the wagon seat and on looking around for a minute, untied the cow and calf and led them into a cleft in the bank that was sheltered on three sides and tied them. She went back and was unhitching the mules when Many Feathers appeared again with a whole huge, dead cedar tree that he dragged into the opening of the cave. He turned around and reached into the back of the wagon and picked Trace up, blankets and all, and carried him into the cave. Then he dumped him onto the ground with the same degree of roughness he had piled him into the wagon with. At that, he turned back to Giselle, gave her a deep, solemn look, and once again mounted his horse and headed back out into the snow.

Giselle finished tying the mules, gave them a bait of corn and then began to set up camp, wondering if Many Feathers was going to suddenly reappear again out of the blizzard. She explored the cave and found it was actually a series of three caves, one after the other, that extended back into the fold of the hill above the stream.

The cave in the front was large and open with a sandy floor. It necked down into a smaller room that was still roughly ten or eleven feet across and then opened into an even smaller room that was only about nine feet deep and five feet high. The second room had the remnants of many fires in one corner and Giselle looked up to see how someone had had fires in here without smoking themselves out. In the blackened ceiling, pale light shone through and she could see a crack that had allowed the smoke to escape up and out.

Once again, she was incredibly grateful for Many Feathers’ help. The caves were far and away more than she could ever have asked for just now. She glanced over at Trace’s unconscious form and knelt one more time to whisper a prayer of thanks. A few hours ago, she had thought that she wasn’t up to much alone, but now, with the cave and firewood, she was going to be okay. It was her turn to rescue Trace for once.

She struggled and pulled Trace into the second room and stretched him out as much as possible. He was still completely out and had a huge goose egg on his head where the iron had struck him. She refused to even allow herself to worry that he wouldn’t be okay eventually and set about making a fire and setting up camp. It was only early afternoon, but she knew that they were going nowhere until this storm broke. Even in the lee of the creek bank, she was already standing in more than a foot of snow to load gear out of the wagon.

She brought the rest of the bedding, made a bed and rolled Trace into it and then began to make dinner over the fire in the corner. The second cave was almost luxuriously dry, and when she hung a blanket over the opening to keep the wind out it was relatively cozy, all things considered. She hoped Many Feathers had found someplace this warm and dry to wait the storm out. She was grateful to him, but she was also a little afraid of him still. She brought her grandfather’s pistol in and then had Dog lie at the opening of the main cave, just in case. She didn’t necessarily want to shoot Many Feathers, but if he was somewhere around, she wanted to know it first when Trace was so out of it.

She cooked, ate, and cleaned up, and after checking on Trace again, went back to the wagon and brought the wash kettle in and filled it. As long as they were stuck here, she was going to take advantage of it. She did the wash, strung a line, and hung the clothes to dry. She made bread and even brought the copper bath tub in and had a luxuriously warm bath there in the firelight with the storm raging outside. Trace still hadn’t moved a muscle and she was beginning to struggle not to worry. She went and got her Book of Mormon and a candle and climbed into the bed with him and tried to read to get her mind off of things.

The storm grew in intensity until it seemed to scream past the cave opening. She got up and brought the stock and the chickens right into the first cave and then went back to lie next to Trace one more time. By the time it was full dark, she had decided that even the wolves would have taken shelter somewhere in this gale. She banked the fire, blew out her candle, and went to bed.

Even out cold, Trace was still somehow reassuring to lie next to and she prayed that he would be okay and that they’d still make it to the valley safely. Then, trusting to Dog to keep watch, she snuggled close to Trace and went to sleep.

The only way she knew it was morning the next day was that there was a lighter strip of sky showing through the crack in the roof of the cave. The fire had long since burned down and, with the blanket over the opening, there was no other light to speak of. Outside of the covers it was cool and she decided to snuggle against Trace’s warmth for a minute before she got up to light the fire again. He moved in his sleep and gave a low groan, but when she talked to him, all he did was pull her tight into his arms and sigh.

His strength, even in his sleep, nearly crushed her, but it was reassuring nonetheless. She pulled at his hands to get him to loosen up and then turned towards his chest and cuddled up to his body heat. She had had no idea that sleeping beside a husband would be this nice. It was incredible.

She spoke to him, but he was more than just asleep still and only moved a little at her words. He had one iron arm around her waist and she gave up the idea of getting up just then and happily closed her eyes again to lie there. His chest against her cheek was deliciously comforting as she went back to sleep.

It must have been an hour or more later that Trace tightened his hold and woke her up. She could hardly breathe and she tried to rouse him again. He still didn’t hear her talking to him and she took hold of his hands to try to loosen them. It almost felt like he was resisting her on purpose and he rolled over towards her. Then it was not only hard to breathe, but she could hardly move.

“Trace.” She sighed and pushed against him. “Tracey. You’re squishing me!” She patted his face with both hands and he leaned into her neck and breathed against her throat. “Trace!” She started into him, talking fast, trying to get him to wake up and help her.

Finally, she felt him kiss her neck softly and say,“English, Elle. English.” He finally rolled off slowly. “Giselle.” He moaned and put a hand to his head. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I don’t understand Dutch.”

She took a deep breath of air as he loosened his hold and rolled over. “Trace.” She leaned up to look at him. “Oh, Trace, I’ve been so worried. Are you okay?”

He grimaced and looked at her through narrowed eyes. “I’m not sure.” He looked all around. “Where are we?” He put the hand back to his head. “And why do I feel like I’ve been kicked in the head by a mule?”

She bent to kiss the goose egg that was slowly going down. “Close enough. The mule tried to kill you, but it wasn’t a kick, it was the single tree that hit you. Yesterday morning, when we were trying to leave. Do you remember?”

He started to shake his head and then groaned again. “I don’t remember a thing. We were out in the sage. How did we get here?” He looked around again at the cave walls.

At first she started to explain everything, but she could see that he wasn’t very with it and just said, “I drove here. There’s been a terrible storm. Many Feathers helped me find these caves.” She started to push him away to get up and start the fire, but he took one of her hands and held it.

“Don’t get up. Stay with me for a second.” She lay back down next to him and he said, “What were you saying just now? In Dutch? You didn’t sound very happy.”

She shook her head against him. “I wasn’t unhappy. I just couldn’t breathe. You were holding me so tight and then rolled on me.”

Slowly he lifted his arm and put it over her. “Sorry. I didn’t even realize.”

“It’s okay, but you’re hard to move when you’re out of it. I had no idea you were so big. I couldn’t even move to get out from under your shoulder.”

His breath was still against her neck when he said, “I’ve always been big. Mose was the only boy my age who was bigger than me.” He paused for a minute and then said absently, “I’m hungry.” With hardly a pause, he continued, “I think that I should learn to speak Dutch. Then I could understand what you say when you’re upset. You switch over and then go talking about lickety split and I never have a bit of an idea what you’re trying to tell me. I wish I knew Dutch.” He kissed her gently on the neck again.

Wondering what in the world was going on with him, she sat up and looked at him. He rolled over to look at her blankly. “Do you have to leave, Elle? I was comfortable with you here.” His kissing flustered her completely and she decided she’d better get up now. She was relatively sure that he had no idea what he was even doing and she really wanted to kiss him back. When he was more with it, he’d probably be embarrassed if she did.

She pulled back the covers, jumped up, wrapped a shawl around herself, and went over and rekindled the fire. When the fire was good and going, she put several more pieces of wood on it and hopped back under the covers again with Trace. He’d been watching her at the fire, and when she got back in, he said, “Put your feet over on me and get them warm.” He took both of her hands in his and rubbed them until they were warm. Then he pulled her tight against his chest with a little, happy sigh. “It’s nice to have you by me here, Elle.”

This mellow, easy-going cuddliness almost made her a little wary. She loved it, but she wasn’t sure that he was very aware of what he was doing. That had been a pretty severe whack on the head. For a few more minutes, while the fire started to take hold of the wood, she worried. Then she decided that worrying wasn’t going to help anything and just enjoyed being cuddled while he was a bit looped. It wouldn’t hurt anything, and it was what she really wanted anyway. With that thought, she turned her back to him and leaned back into him so they were like spoons, and made a happy sound of her own.

Chapter 13

It wasn’t very long before Trace went back to sleep again, just long enough for him to stroke her shoulder and kiss her neck again several times. Just when she had decided she had to turn around to him and kiss him back, she felt him relax against her and begin to snore. She let out a big breath of frustration, pulled back the blankets, and slipped out of bed.

The air in the second cave was still cool and Giselle dressed for the day warmly. Maybe being fully clothed would ward off some of the physical attraction that was thick in the cave this morning. When she was dressed, she sat down on the bed next to him to put on her stockings and boots, and found she was still tempted to climb back in and wake him up.

Getting up with a sigh, she decided that having the bed as the only place to sit was probably more than foolish. Stranded here as they were, she decided that, just as soon as she had the stock cared for and breakfast ready, she would go out and wrestle her grandmother’s rocking chair out of the wagon and bring it inside to sit on.

When she finally got out there to move the rocking chair in, she found that “wrestle” had been the operative word for sure. She hadn’t remembered the rocker being that hard to move when they’d loaded it last July. After struggling with it for more than half an hour, when she finally got it moved to the back of the wagon where their bed had been, she was breathing heavily. Just then, Trace poked his head through the wagon flaps. He looked at her, sitting there in the rocker, with her faced flushed from exertion, and asked, “What are you doing out here, Giselle? Are you okay?”

Feeling a little foolish, she answered, “I’m just trying to get this rocker inside the cave to have something to sit on, but it’s grown a great deal since I helped load it in here. It’s been difficult to move and I had to stop and rest for a moment.”

“Here, let me lift it for you.” She could almost have cussed him when he lifted it effortlessly. She followed him back into the cave and then back out to the wagon when he turned and went back out. He lifted their wooden, lidded grub box and brought it in as well. “It looks like we’re going to be here for a bit until the storm breaks. Might as well make it easier to cook and get things done.” He looked up at the low, ragged, gray sky. “How long have we been here? Have I been out for days, or has it snowed this much fast?”