On the Mountain (6 page)

“That’s ridiculous.”  Prescott was not convinced.  “You saw the people in the village up there.  Peter could not have possibly had anything to do with it.  Wade, tell him.”

His words sent a painful blow to her chest.  She felt the color drain from her face while her vision wavered in front of her.  Wade must have noticed for she heard him say, “Christ, Prescott.  Don’t be so damned careless with your words.”

“Lord,” his brother cried. “I didn’t think.”

“I think that’s enough for now, Stanford.  The boy has obviously just received a shock.”

But the constable wasn’t dissuaded so easily.  He reached out and snatched her slender shoulders between his large callused hands.  “Answer me, boy!”

“Jesus Christ,” Wade shouted, reaching out to pull her from the lawman’s grasp.  “I said that was enough.”

With the constable’s hands still gripping her shoulders, she was violently shaken before Wade was able to snatch her away and haul her out of the barn and toward the house.  She heard him holler at the lawman to get the hell off his property and Prescott’s own choice of words requesting the same, if not slightly less crude.  However, it was the constable’s parting words that engraved themselves on her brain.

“What the hell happened on that mountain, boy?”

Chapter 6

He was walking so fast, she had to run just to keep up, her arm still in his death grip.  Once up at the house he flung open the large wooden door dragging her behind him.  He was still cursing and still very mad.  Anna just didn’t know exactly who it was directed at.

“Have a seat boy.”  His voice was harsh but not necessarily directed at her.  “Dammit, I knew not to let him speak to you until after I had.”

She felt convulsions running up and down her body.

Wade’s eyes finally focused on her and cursed once more.  “You’re cold.  Sit here while I get a fire started.”

Obediently she sat in the oversized chair next to the equally oversized hearth.

“Listen, kid, don’t let what Stanford said upset you.”  He spoke to her while quickly lighting the logs already in the fireplace.  “He’s leaving.  Prescott is escorting him off the property now.”

She felt more shudders rip throughout her body.  Wade looked over and noticed.  “Christ, you’re freezing.”

She was freezing.  After all, she had spent a major part of the day waiting by the river.  But her shudders had more to do with all she had endured in the past twenty-four hours than the actual cold climate.

“Let me get you something to drink.”  He got to his feet and went over to a cabinet.  “Ever had bourbon?”

She shook her head.

“It will warm your insides up real fast.”  He filled a glass half full of some amber liquid then handed it to her.

Taking the offered drink, she proceeded to take a gulp.  Anna was grateful he had turned his back to tend the fire and missed her automatic reaction to the potent drink.  She had never tasted anything so foul.

“I know you think you’re responsible for what happened up there,” he said.  “But you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Words meant to comfort only added to the confusion.  She may not have the memories, but she had the emotions.  They were real and she knew what they meant.

He stood up and she realized was asking her a question.  “You don’t remember what happened, do you kid?”

Frowning, she tried to bring an image to mind, but in the end had to shake her head.

Wade nodded in understanding, reaching up to remove the filthy handkerchief tied around his neck.  “I thought as much.  It explains your reaction to a lot of things.”

Anna was still in a state of shock and confusion and did not notice him beginning to unbutton his shirt.  “Do you recall your name?  Who you are?”

She nodded.

“That’s a good start,” he said.  “What about your family?”

Again, she nodded.

“Do you know where you came from?”

A sharp, unexpected pain pierced her chest.  Closing her eyes, she slowly nodded.

“The village?” he asked quietly.  “Was that home?”

With her eyes shut tightly, she wasn’t sure if she was trying to block out the image of the village or to recapture it.  She gave Wade another nod.

There was a moment of silence before he gently told her, “I’m sorry, but you should know.  There were no survivors.”

Her eyes remained closed as she felt the force of his words.  There was no pain, only sorrow.  It was something she had known in her heart all along.  Whatever had happened in the mountain had completely wiped itself from her memory, however no amount of erasing could remove the feeling of loss.  She had prolonged confronting those feelings, but deep inside she had known her family was gone.  Her eyes burned with unshed tears.

“Are you all right?”

Wade’s gentle question brought her dry but anguished eyes up to look at him.  He was kneeling directly in front of her and a warmth raced through her body and eased slightly the pain in her heart.

“You’re safe here, boy.”

His voice was low but tender and for the first time since this horrible incident occurred, Anna felt safe.  With him.

She nodded and he offered a comforting smile before getting to his feet and shrugging out of his shirt.  Her breath caught in her throat as he stood in the room naked from the waist up.  Never before had she seen a naked man outside her family.  Never before had she seen anything so beautiful.  He was far broader and stronger than she would have imagined beneath his loose cotton shirts.  The thick growth of dark hair over his chest had her looking away before he could catch her examining him.

Her brother and father had both gone shirtless many times during the hot summer weather, but they had never looked anything like this.  This man was the most perfect male species she had ever seen.  A new spasm of quivers racked her body.

“Hey.”  Wade mistook her convulsions and rushed back to her side.  “It’s going to be all right.”

Automatically, Anna withdrew from his close proximity, not having been that close to a naked man before.  He touched her arm only slightly, but her body gave a jolt.  He frowned and Anna felt a flood of fear, praying her stupid female urges hadn’t betrayed her and threatened to expose her true identity.  She held her breath.

“I’m not going to hurt you, boy.”  Concern lit his eyes.  Eyes that before she had never noticed were as blue as a glacier lake.  “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.  I promise.”

The sincerity in his eyes held her spellbound.  As she sat there drowning in those blue depths, a spark lit deep inside.  It was a small spark, but it had a huge impact.  She felt the force of it knock the breath from her lungs.

He must have realized she was staring at him far too long to be considered proper for he got to his feet and said, “I’m going to go and wash off this soot and grime.  You just stay here and finish your drink and warm yourself by the fire.”

She nodded vaguely, wishing he wouldn’t go.  Giving a friendly nod himself, he turned and left the room.  Anna had an overwhelming urge to follow him.

The man was huge and burly and could scare the soul from a grizzly, but he was also tender and kind and Anna would only be too happy to follow him to the end of the earth.

Her eyes felt suddenly weary reminding her how truly exhausted she was.  Though she hadn’t done anything physically strenuous, emotionally she was drained.  The large chair she sat on was plush and inviting.  She thought about heading back to the bunkhouse but somehow knew Joe would only put her to work.

Sleep had not been an option the night before.  Not only did the day’s trauma keep her awake, but also was the fact she had never slept in the same quarters with a strange man.  Least of all nine of them.  The result was she had lied and listened to every creek, every snore and every small sound that entered the night.

* * *

Once again, time restrictions prevented him from taking that well desired bath.  Wade thanked the inventor of this new shower contraption.  It was freezing but did the job and the only one of its kind in the vicinity.  Prescott had told him of a man in Europe who had built a new invention that would provide a hot water tank to go along with the waterfall-like device.  It would eliminate these cold showers and, he figured, his days of using the tub.  Though he enjoyed the leisurely baths, more and more his schedule prevented him from taking one.

Feeling fresher, he stepped outside of the clawed tub that housed the shower and thought back to the boy’s reaction when given the news of the loss of his family.  It was startling to say the least.  True, he looked hurt but not necessarily surprised and for a boy his age, had not shed a single tear.  He wondered if he should be concerned.  After all, he had no idea how a person should react to an event as horrific as the one he just witnessed.

He toweled his unruly hair dry and thought perhaps he should have gotten Carl to trim his hair as well.  This train of thoughts had him thinking of the boy when he first turned around in the barber shop and Wade got a good look at him for the first time without grime or mud caked on his face.  Admittedly, he was shocked.  The boy was a great deal better looking than he would have guessed.  If nothing else, the mountain people had good genes.

Something warm had stirred in his gut and had done the same tonight when he sat staring into the boy’s eyes.  He had known they were a deep chocolate from the moment he laid eyes on him.  After all, they were the only part of his facial features not covered in dirt.  However, there was something else there tonight.  More than likely gratitude, Wade conceded.  From the sight on that mountain, whatever the boy had witnessed was horrendous.  He couldn’t help but be grateful he couldn’t remember.

Whatever the reason, Wade knew something had crossed between them tonight while they sat staring at each other.  A bond had formed.  He had almost felt the connection when he first discovered the boy.  Something about him Wade could identify with.  He couldn’t rightly put his finger on just what, but there definitely was something that united them.

Changed into a clean set of clothing, his hair still damp from the shower, he went out into the main room where he had left the boy.  The house was quiet and he wondered if perhaps he had wandered back to the bunkhouse.  There was no sign of Prescott either, which meant he was exerting a great deal of effort to soothe over any ill feelings with the constable.  Heaven forbid Prescott go against the law.

Next to the hearth cuddled against the bulky chair the boy had fallen asleep.  Wade walked over and removed the whiskey glass from the table next to him and discovered he had barely touched the drink.  He would have liked one himself, but desperately needed that shower first.

Looking down on the sleeping form, that same warm feeling washed over him.  Admittedly, it surprised him considering the boy was virtually an unknown.  But he didn’t feel like a stranger.  His pale face looked clean and soft and Wade grinned with affection at the memory of the shave he received.  He had an urge to reach out and stroke the soft skin.  Out in the foyer, the front door opened and he took a step away from the boy.

“The constable is convinced the boy knows something about the fire.”  Prescott hung his wool coat on the hook next to the door and entered the great room.  “He even threatened to call in the North-West Mounted Police.”

Wade sighed wearily and rubbed his beard.  “There will have to be a formal investigation.”

“I don’t understand,” Prescott said, coming to stand beside his brother overlooking the sleeping boy.  “How can he believe Peter had anything to do with this?  He was with you when the fire erupted.”

“Yes, but what about the night before?”

Prescott looked concerned.  “You don’t seriously think he had anything to do with the massacre?”

Wade shook his head.  “No, but that won’t stop others from thinking as much.  If he’s from that village, why is he the lone survivor?”

“Do you think he is hiding something?”

With assurance, he shook his head.  “He doesn’t remember anything.  I’d like to keep it that way.  At least until this mess is cleared up.”

“You do think he knows what happened.”

Wade looked down at the subject of their conversation and wondered for the umpteenth time since coming down from that mountain, what the boy had witnessed.  “What I think is this kid has been through something no one in their lifetime should ever have to.”

“Amen,” Prescott said.  He followed his brother’s gaze and asked, “Should we wake him?”

“No,” Wade said.  “Let him sleep.”

Prescott cocked his head and examined the boy’s position.  “He doesn’t look very comfortable.  Why don’t we put him on the spare bed in the cook’s room?”

When their father had built the homestead nearly fifty years before, he had included in his floor plans a room off the kitchen for the cook.  However, Kim Wong had never slept in it, preferring instead to sleep out in the bunkhouse with the wranglers.

Wade nodded, then bent down and scooped the boy up into his arms.  Not surprising, he was small and light.  He made a mental note to remind himself to stuff the boy’s mouth and put some meat on his bones.

He stirred slightly and Wade thought he had woken him.  Instead the boy turned in Wade’s arms and cuddled into his chest.  The act caught him off guard and caused an uncomfortable feeling to rise in the pit of his gut.  Where he admittedly liked the boy and felt a kindred spirit, he was not the type to express physical affection.

Gentle as not to wake him, he laid him carefully on the bed and stepped back to look down at him.  Not knowing why, a tiny frown danced between his brows.

As usual, Prescott came over to add his upbeat point of view.  “I think someone has just adopted you, Dad.”

His brother left the two of them alone in the room, obviously having witnessed the boy’s act in Wade’s arms.  He wasn’t happy about that, but his brother’s words did bring a sense of relief.  Maybe the boy lacked love and affection in his life or had grown up without a father for whatever reason.

Wade had become the man of the household early on, Prescott and Kathleen had gone to live in England for a great number of years.  When they returned, Prescott had become even more separate from Wade.  They couldn’t have been more different.  Where Prescott had taken on his mother’s personality, Wade was very much his father’s son.  He was the person he was today because of that man. 

If anything, he missed that most in life.  The relationship he had with his father.  If he thought about it, he probably would have liked that same relationship with a son of his own.  However, he had just celebrated his forty-fourth birthday and his days of marriage and fatherhood had passed him by.  Maybe that was his connection with the boy.  He was the son he never had.