The Color of Ivy (17 page)

They tru
dged through the snow-covered wilderness in silence for a long while.  The air they inhaled was wintery cold.  Before her, she could see a frosty breath emitting from the horse’s nostrils.  Her own softly billowing in front of her face.  On the ground, she watched Sam lead the horse through the dense forest.  His face turning slightly pink from the cold.

Having chosen to walk rather than ride with her, he
was prolonging their arrival in the city.  Though Ivy was cold, dirty and injured, she had no wish to reach that particular destination.

By
mid-morning their path came to an abrupt decline.  Sam halted and looked down.  Ivy followed his gaze.  Her eyes fell upon railroad tracks.  They had chosen not to follow the tracks out of the village as they wound too close to the lake’s coastline.  The granite earth edging the great lake jutted in sharp and cutting peaks, making maneuvering impossible.  Instead, they followed the river which headed in a westerly direction until it eventually met up with the tracks once again.

He looked up and their gaze collided.  Immediately he looked away.  “Not much further now.”

She made no reply.

“Best stop and give the horse a rest.”  He glanced at her and looked uncomfortable.  “You need help down?”

“No.”  To prove she didn’t, she swung her leg over and slid her body down along the horse’s side until she touched the earth beneath.

Sam took the animal and tied it to a nearby tree, then turned back to Ivy.  Tugging on his hat, he pulled the brim down low and shielded his eyes from her view.

“Wrists.”

He thought she would run.  Truth was, she probably would.  Reluctantly, she held out her hands.  To her surprise
, he did not take them.  He simply stood there staring down at the red marks left by his bindings.  He made no sound.  Even his breathing fell silent.  She wished she could see his face, but it remained hidden beneath his hat.

At last he spoke.  So quietly, however, his words were nearly lost upon the wind.  “They’re goin’
to hang you, Ivy.”

She blinked and swallowed the sudden painful lump in her throat, but continued to hold out her wrists.  “I know.”

He lifted his chin then, and pinned her with a hard stare.  “Tell me what happened.  Talk to me.  Hell, I’m even willing to believe it was an accident.”

She watched the emotion on his face grow hard as he studied her close
ly, certain that whatever thoughts were behind those eyes of his were dark.  “Was it an accident?”

Ivy paused for only half a beat, then slowly shook her head.

“Dammit!” he bellowed and spun away from her, ripping off his hat and dragging an angry hand through his hair.

She flinched instinctively from his outburst and took a step back.

“What the hell happened that night?”  He whirled back around, glaring and advancing on her.  “Tell me, goddammit!”

Ivy moved quickly backwards
, away from his anger, but with her lame ankle, nearly tripped over her own feet.  He reached for her and seized her shoulders in a fierce grip.

“Don’t touch me!”

“How could you have done it?”  His eyes flared red and Ivy recoiled immediately, trying desperately to escape his grip.

“Let me go!”

But he only squeezed tighter and gave her a violent shake.  “Damn you, Ivy!”

With a sudden thrust
, he pulled her hard against his body.  Fear shot to the tip of her throat.  Memories of her sister being manhandled in the same manner, flooded back to mind.  “Stop!”

She pushed and squirmed angrily in his
embrace, but his hold only tightened.  “I hate the fact every time I look at you, you remind me of her.”

“I’m not her!  Now let me go!”

But he did not appear to hear her words.  His hands came up and seized her shoulders and shook her once again.  “I hate when you look at me with those big innocent eyes, I want to believe you’re not guilty.”

Unable to stop herself, her bottom lip began to tremble.  She fought harder, anger and fear fuelling her efforts.  Without warning his arms came around her thrashing body, forcing her
roughly against him.

“And most of all, I hate the fact you ma
ke my blood burn with hunger.”

His mouth came down hard on hers, shocking Ivy for only the merest second before she remembered to
struggle.  Echoes of her sister’s screams filled her ears.  An image of the Earl materialized behind her closed eyelids.  A cry broke from her throat and she whimpered against his mouth.

He must have mistaken
the sound for longing for his kiss deepened, pushing her down to the earth.  With his body now pinning her to the ground, he removed his arms to quickly unfasten the holster at his waist to reach his breeches underneath.  His breathing increased as he fondled her at a feverish pitch.

Somewhere in the midst of her terror, a
corresponding heat stirred in the very pit of her gut.  A tear slid from her eye as she felt him pushing up her skirt.  Vile filled her mouth.  Not for the man attacking her, but for herself.  How could she allow his touch to evoke a warmth buried for so long?

He d
ragged his mouth from hers to trail a series of kisses down to her breasts, and Ivy felt her last shred of dignity dissolve.  “Please, I beg of ye, don’t do this.”

But he
continued.  If anything, his hands became more urgent.  Ivy tried to resist him, wanted desperately to hate his touch, be repulsed by his hunger, but she could not.  Betrayal burned to the core of her being.  The cries of her sister haunted her as his lips blazed a path back up her body to reclaim her mouth.  His hands gripped her head, his long sinewy fingers sliding between her red curls to draw her lips closer as he crushed them beneath his own.  Her cheeks settled into the palms of his hands, while tears ran freely from Ivy’s eyes, burning a path across his fingers.

Only then did he finally stop and pull away. 
A feral hunger filled the depths of his eyes, as well as confusion.  He stared down at her, his chest heaving as he tried to regain control of his breathing.  His gaze bore into her tear-stained face, while an unknown emotion racked his handsome features.  Then he blinked and cursed, pushing himself away.

“Damn you, Ivy!” he growled
, as if it were all her fault.

He took off through the wilderness, his form swallowed up by the woods.  Ivy closed her eyes and cried even harder, disgusted with
the realization she had wanted him to go further.  Anger welled up inside.  How could she yearn for a man who took her without consent?  A man no better than the one who had raped and tortured her sister.

She lifted her
distraught gaze and found herself looking upon something lying on the ground next to her.  Sam’s holster.

* * *

Sam ran hard through the bush, not caring that the frozen branches sliced at his fleeing form.  Disgust ate away at his insides.  What the hell did he think he was doing?  She was a murderer.  The very creature he loathed.  And yet, he yearned for her, more than any woman he ever met.  He had wanted so desperately to believe she was not, but the truth was she was everything his mother had been.  Her weakness cost the life of another.

He broke through a clearing and ran straight into the gurgling river without pause.  The coldness swarmed around his calves and shot upwards.  He came to an abrupt halt and dropped to his haunches, mindless of the freezing water.  Pulling his hat off, he raked his hands through his hair and squeezed his lids tight, trying to force out the image of Ivy’s frightened face.

No matter what her crime, he had no right to force himself on her.  Hell, hadn’t she already been through enough?  Revulsion towards himself had him cursing every deplorable word he could conceive.  She had watched her sister being raped for years.  The remorse and anger towards those events could have turned the Pope’s faith.  Unlike his mother, Ivy bore the cost of her dark soul.

He released a weary breath and s
plashed water over his hair, dragging his fingers through the long and stringy strands.  Opening his eyes, he gazed across to the other side of the banks, the fast moving river drowning out all other sounds.  But something in his peripheral vision caught his attention.  Turning slightly, he spotted Ivy standing near the edge of the river.

It was the look in her eyes
, which he noticed first.  Pure terror rounded their pale blue orbs.  She seemed almost frozen to the spot, her gaze unblinking and transfixed on him.  Then her chin trembled just so as she started to raise her arms.  That was when Sam noticed his gun in her hands.

Shaking, she levelled the barrel at him, the fear in her eyes growing larger.  A horrible, gut-wrenching feeling closed around Sam’s chest.  He had seen that look only once before.  When at the age of
six, his mother kissed him goodnight and told him she would always love him—right before she covered his face with a pillow and attempted to smother the life from him.

Slowly, he stood on numb legs, not from the
subzero temperature of the river, but from the shock of seeing her pointing a gun at his face.  “Ivy?”

Her lip shook some more.  The gun wobbled in her hand.  The
wild current raced past him.  A heaviness he never felt before, tugged on his heart.  And all he could do was stand and wait.

As his eyes
held hers, the realization came that she was not actually looking at him, but somewhere directly behind him.  At the exact same moment he became aware of this, he heard the heavy snort of an animal behind him.  Turning ever so slowly, he carefully glanced over his shoulder and saw the largest brown bear he had ever laid eyes on.

The animal was wading not more than
fifty yards from him, his huge snout sniffing the air to identify the creature invading his watering hole.  Sam froze.  He knew better than to try and outrun a bear.  His only hope was that the animal would not see him as a threat and leave.  He held his breath.

Instead of turning
away, however, the creature only advanced on Sam.  The lapping water of the river soaking the undercoat of his belly.  Tossing his huge head, he let out a few warning snorts before suddenly rearing up on his hind legs.  Terror swallowed Sam’s voice.  He looked up at the animal and saw only death.

“Oh God, oh God!”  He heard Ivy’s shriek from the bank and, unexpectedly, fear for
her
life cut a wound deep within.  He knew in a flash they only had one choice.

“Shoot, Ivy!”

The animal roared at the sound of their voices.  Sam stumbled backwards.

“I can’t!”  She was screaming and crying and Sam felt a new horror steel over him.  For the first time, he felt out of control.  There was no way out of this situation.

“Jesus,” he cursed and shot a look over at her.  Tears were streaming down her face, the gun flapping uselessly in her hand.  Terror filled her eyes and something so primal and real etched deep grooves across her stricken face.  In that heartbeat, he knew, without a doubt, whatever happened that night to Philip Hendrickson, Ivy McGregor was innocent.

“Please,” he uttered, his voice trembling on
his own raw emotions eating away at his insides.  He did not want to leave her.  Not yet.  She needed him.  But more importantly, he needed her.  “Shoot.”

Their eyes met.  The bear roared.  A shot echoed along the river.  A cry rang out and then the animal fell to the water.  Sam watched as it wailed pitifully.  Injured, but not dead.  He turned and looked over at Ivy.  She was
convulsing, trembling horribly and crying hysterically.  The gun fell from her hands.  Sam moved swiftly and gathered her into his arms.

To his relief she collapsed against him.  Tears soaked through his vest to t
he shirt beneath.  Squeezing, he pulled her close, grateful to be able to hold her once more.  Her copper curls wafted under his nose.  Sam closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.  Her sweetness enveloped him.

Behind them, the bear
howled again.  Its death cry would alert predators in the area.  With reluctance, he pulled Ivy out of his embrace.  Tears stained her cheeks.  He reached up and with the pad of this thumb, gently wiped them away.

“We have to kill it, Ivy.”

Her chin quivered as she shook her head.  “I can’t.”

Truth burned a path to his soul and lit it on fire.  In that moment, Sam
’s heart woke up from a lifetime of slumber.  With a grateful sigh, he pulled her back into his arms and held her tight.  Dropping a kiss on her head, he let her go.  “It’s all right.  I’ll do it.”

Fresh tears welled in her eyes and tumbled over.  Unable to resist, he bent down and pressed
his lips to hers.  She put up no resistance.  Contrary to what he wanted, he left her, bending down to snatch up his gun and return to the wounded animal.  It looked up at him with huge brown eyes.  Its sorrowful bellows pulled the corners of his mouth down.  On the banks, he could hear Ivy crying softly.

Raising the gun, he pointed it between the animal’s eyes and pulled the trigger.  The gunshot
reverberated off the banks of the river, scattering some nearby ducks.  Then all went silent except for the rushing current.  The soft sobs of a woman finally pulled him away from the beast and towards the river’s edge.  She was now sitting on the snowy earth.  Her black and gray skirts billowing out around her.  It reminded him of a widow at the funeral of her beloved.  He wondered if she would have cried for him if the bear had been successful in killing him.