Mountain Rose (25 page)

"You'd best be gettin' home, Calvin," the Widow Jenkins said, stretching lazily, contented for the time being. She had exhausted herself with the man lying beside her. She wanted to sleep now, and wished her lover gone.

And Calvin Long was ready to leave. Liza had drained him. But he knew he would return tomorrow—after he'd pleasured his Indian wife. He had to keep her from becoming suspicious. Old Chief Wise Owl was her father, and he had no wish to get on the wrong side of that old savage.

"I reckon I'd better;" he answered. "This rain ain't gonna let up soon."

As he climbed into his clothes Liza, looked up at him, a salacious smile on her heavy lips. "Will the rain keep you from comin' over tomorrow?"

Calvin paused in the doorway, running his gaze over the wanton sprawl of her body. "I'll be here," he said before dashing out into the downpour and sprinting to his horse.

He was approaching the spot where Chase had watched him ride past when, through the falling rain, he saw two horses in the fringe of the forest. He recognized Chase's stallion immediately and knew that the hackamored pinto belonged to an Indian. He pulled his mount in and peered through the rain. What did it mean, these two horses, apparently alone, their tails turned to the lash of the rain? Did he want to get involved? he asked himself.

Curiosity made him turn his horse off the beaten trail and cautiously approach the mounts. He was almost on top of them before he noted the two fallen men.

At a glance, he knew the Tillamook was dead. Releasing a relieved sound, he swung to the ground and hurried to kneel beside Chase. He's dead, too, he thought, gazing at the chalk-white face. Nevertheless, he placed his fingers on the limp wrist, feeling for a pulse.

Finally he felt it, weak and slow.

Long sat back on his heels, studing the handsome face. The man was near death. If that flow of blood wasn't staunched soon, Chase Donlin was a goner.

Liza's lover had no liking for the trapper. The man was everything he would like to be. Besides that, Liza was crazy about him, had wanted to marry him. But Donlin had married another woman, and according to what he heard, damn near worshiped his beautiful young wife.

The speck of honor remaining inside the squaw-man would not let him ride off and leave the wounded man to die. Besides, there was a deep friendship between this man and his father-in-law. If the old Chief should ever learn that he hadn't given help to the trapper, he would see to it that his son-in-law would also die.

Grunting and staggering under Chase's dead weight, Calvin managed to struggle him across the mount's back, then climb on behind him. He nudged the mount and it started back

towards the widow's cabin.

Liza was sitting at her kitchen table, having a cup of coffee after changing the bed linens. When she saw Calvin returning, her eyes narrowed on the limp and hanging arms. "Chase!" she exclaimed and jumped to her feet to fling open the door.

"What's happened to him?" she cried as Calvin staggered into the cabin, bent over from the weight on his shoulder. She stared at the blood dripping down Chase's arm, then glared up at her lover and demanded suspiciously, "Did you do this?"

"Of course not!" Anger and jealously rang in Long's voice. "A Tillamook done it. And while you're standin' there makin' false accusations, he's gonna bleed to death. And dammit, he's heavy as a buffalo."

Liza's face turned white at the word death. "Hurry, get him in the bedroom. We must stop the bleeding." She led the way to her room and swept back the top sheet.

With a heave of relief, Long dropped Chase onto the bed and, panting from exertion, turned and headed for the door. "I'll be goin' for Granny Pearson now," he said.

"No you won't." Liza's words were an order. "I can handle this wound as good as that gabbin' old woman. All I need is a lot of bandages to pack the wound." She ran from the room, returning within seconds, tossing a clean sheet on the bed. "Tear this in strips," she said, "while I go fetch a basin of water and a bottle of whiskey."

The irate man did her bidding, and when Liza returned with the items she'd need, he said sullenly, "I'll be goin' after his wife and the breed now."

"No!" Liza glared up at him. "I need you here to help me. You have to pull the knife out, hold him down while I doctor him."

"His wife has a right to know, Liza," Calvin insisted.

Liza gave him a heated glower. "I told you, no. Now get over here and help me."

Chase roused when Calvin pulled the knife out of his shoulder and groaned when Liza poured whiskey over the wound. His eyes focused on the widow's face, and he wondered where Raegan was. It should be his wife tending him.

He lost consciousness again when Liza began packing the knife wound with the strips of sheet. A short time later, fever gripped him, growing stronger every hour.

Once, as in a dream, he felt hands caressing his body, fondling his manhood. He thought fuzzily that he could respond to Raegan's hot, coaxing hands, make love to her, even now. But he wasn't up to it after all. She would have to understand.

Toward morning. Chase's fever broke and he slept a natural sleep until almost noon the next day. When he opened his eyes, an exclamation of disbelief hissed through his teeth. What in the hell was he doing in Liza Jenkins's bed? He started to sit up, then fell back with a groan, his hand going to his bandaged shoulder.

It all came back to him—his fight with the Tillamook, the knife the Indian had put in his flesh. Calvin Long must have found him and brought him here.

"Liza!" he shouted, "where in the hell are you?"

"Right here, honey." Liza left off her contemplation of the rain and rushed to the bed. "How are you feelin'?" She sat down on its edge.

"I'm weak as a new-born wolf cub, but I feel good enough. How did I get here?"

"Calvin came across you while he was out huntin' and brought you to me."

Chase gave a grunt of derision at her lie. Hadn't he seen Calvin follow her into her cabin? He let her falsehood pass and asked, "How long have I been here?"

"Since around this time yesterday."

"Good Lord, Raegan will be out of her mind with worry. Unless . .." He narrowed his eyes at Liza, "Unless Calvin took word to her. Did he?"

"Well no, honey." Liza lingeringly brushed a strand of hair off his forehead. "It's pourin' rain out there. It hasn't stopped for a minute."

"Dammit, woman, that's a miserable excuse." He brushed her hand away. "When's Long comin' back here?"

"Why, I don't know when I'll see him again." Liza stood up and, avoiding his eyes, began to straighten the bed covers. "Sometimes I see him ridin' by on his way to the village."

A contemptuous snort burst through Chase's lips. "You're lyin' through your teeth. A day don't pass by that he's not sneakin' down here. Practically everybody in these hills knows it."

"That's not true!" Liza tried to hold Chase's gaze as she made her denial. But the steady look he returned made her own waver. She looked away in resignation. "So what if he does? We're not hurtin' anybody." She turned her gaze back to Chase and said reproachfully, "You never visit me anymore."

Chase sent her an impatient look. "No, I don't, Liza, and I won't be in the future either. I love my wife, and I'm contented with her."

When Liza flounced over to the window with an angry swish of her skirt, he said in a more gentle tone, "You have no future with Calvin Long, Liza. Find yourself an unattached male and get married again."

Liza spun around, her eyes snapping. "I don't need you to tell me what to do, Chase Donlin. I'll do—"

A rap on the kitchen door cut off the last of her sentence. When she made no move to answer the knock, Chase called, "Come in, Long."

There came the sound of the kitchen door being opened, then closed, and shortly Calvin stepped into the bedroom, shrugging out of his dripping slicker. When he would have hung it on a peg, Chase spoke. "Long, I owe you for savin' my life yesterday, but I'd like to ask you for another favor. Would you ride to my place and tell my wife what has happened to me, and to come get me?"

The squaw-man gave a short nod. He shot Liza a glance, relief and satisfaction on his face. When she refused to turn her head and look at him, he pulled the long waterproof coat back on and left the cabin.

Raegan awakened at dawn and lay still for a moment, listening to the heavy monotone of the rain pounding on the roof. Would it never cease? She had prayed last night that it would stop, that she and Jamie and Star could search for Chase without the hinderance of the blinding rain. Yesterday they hadn't been able to see more than a few yards ahead of them as they hunted until darkness drove them home.

"Maybe when we get back, we'll find Chase waitin' for us," Jamie had said, trying to buoy up her flagging spirits.

She had smiled weakly and replied that maybe he was right. But deep down, she knew he was wrong. Something had happened to her husband. A raging downpour wouldn't keep him away from her this long.

She had been right, of course. The only thing that awaited them was the empty cabin . . . and Chase's stallion.

Jamie had minutely examined Sampson and could find no evidence of foul play. There were no marks on the animal, and the saddle was tightly chinched. The big horse was, however, more nervous than usual.

"It's the storm," Jamie had assured her. "Thunder and lightnin' make animals uneasy. This rascal probably broke loose from wherever Chase tied him."

Raegan hadn't bothered to answer Jamie's claim. What was the use? They both knew he didn't believe a word he was saying.

She slid off the bed, wincing from stiff and sore muscles as she stood up. The three of them had been soaked to the skin when they returned to the cabin last night, with Star sneezing. In her concern for Chase, Jamie's worried look at the girl had barely registered with her. She wondered now how her little friend was feeling.

Jamie had breakfast on the table when Reagan walked into the kitchen, Star not far behind her. He smiled them a greeting as he took the coffee pot from the stove. "You girls eat hearty of these ham and eggs," he ordered, filling their cups. "We're gonna search every inch of these hills again, and not come back until we find Chase."

Raegan gave Jamie a weak smile and sat down in her usual chair. Chase's empty place across from her brought tears glimmering into her eyes. As Star helped her to an egg and a piece of meat, she prayed silently that today they would find her husband—and that he would be alive.

Jamie nudged her elbow. "Eat, Raegan."

Raegan reined the mare in on top of a hill and swept her eyes over the panoramic view. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, and it looked as if the clouds might dissipate and the sun shine again. She was bone-tired and weary of spirit. So far there had been no sign of Chase.

From her lofty spot, she could see most of her neighbors' cabins, including her own. She turned Beauty around and looked down at the village on the other side of the hill. There wasn't much activity going on in Big Pine, she noted, no doubt due to the rain. The trappers who usually roamed the single dirt street were either holed up at home or playing cards in the tavern. If Chase wasn't found today, their help would be enlisted. Chase was well liked by his peers and none would refuse.

Raegan turned her head to the left and could vaguely make out a small cabin sitting at the end of a long valley. She knew intuitively that Liza Jenkins lived there. She had wanted to go to the widow's yesterday, but Jamie had insisted it would be a useless trip, that it was impossible that they would find Chase there. Still, the thought kept returning to her that the woman would know something.

As she continued to gaze down at the cabin, trying to decide whether or not to ride down and question Liza and satisfy herself that Jamie was right, the cabin door opened and a man stepped outside. Her pulses leapt, then settled down. The figure was too small to be Chase.

The man disappeared from sight for a moment, then reappeared astride a horse. Raegan's eyes followed the course the mount took, turning Beauty around to keep horse and rider in view. After a moment she said in a hushed whisper, "It looks like he's riding to our place." When the rider kept the trail to the Donlin cabin, she was convinced. The man might not necessarily have news of Chase, but there was the off chance that he might.

She jerked the colt from its holster and fired a shot into the air, a prearranged signal should any one of them come across some sign of Chase. Lifting the reins, she started Beauty down the hill. At the bottom she met Jamie and Star.

"There's a rider going to the cabin," she called out, not slackening her pace.

Calvin Long was about to step up on the porch when the three of them came thundering up. "You're a ways from home, Long," Jamie said, swinging to the ground. "What brings you down this way?"

Long looked at Raegan, who now stood beside Jamie. "Your husband was attacked by a Tillamook yesterday," he said baldly. "I brought him to Liza's place."

Raegan's face went deathly white, and Jamie gripped her arm to keep her from falling. "How badly is he hurt?" He asked the question she couldn't get past her lips.

"Not bad. A knife wound in the shoulder," Long answered gruffly. He didn't like the breed any more than he did Donlin. "We was worried at first. He'd lost a lot of blood before I found him."

"What about the Tillamook—did he get away?"

"No, he's still layin' where Donlin killed him."

Jamie frowned. "We'd better get rid of the body before his kin find him. It'll be an all-out war if they do."

Jamie could see from the startled look on Long's face that this fact hadn't occurred to him. "I'll go bury him in the woods right now." Calvin licked his fear-dried lips.

"How is Chase now?" Raegan asked anxiously, stopping Long as he was about to step off the porch.

"He's all right—weak as to be expected. He wants you to come get him." The last sentence Calvin tacked on was his own opinion. Chase had only said to let his wife know where he was, but Calvin wanted the trapper out of Liza's bed.

"Of course. We'll go right away," Raegan said. "Just as soon as we can change out of these wet clothes." She and Star stepped up on the porch.

"Hold on a minute, Raegan," Jamie called. "Chase won't be able to sit his stallion. While you girls change, I'll ride over to Ike's place and borrow his wagon."