Timberline Trail (11 page)

“It’s alright Sugar,” she mu
rmured. “Can’t I just check your wound? Please Sugar?”

The wolf
eventually relaxed his rigid muscles and allowed her to remove the hanging bandage, held only in place by one elastic end. She positioned new pressure bandages over the two wounds, amazed they were not inflamed and still seemed fairly clean. One had to marvel at the wolf’s resiliency.

“C’mon Sugar,” she said softly,
following the stream that had led them to the camp.

After twenty paces she glanced back
at the wolf that’d not budged. He faced Jon’s camp, reluctant to leave the warmth of the dying fire. How often had Sugar, while still a pup, settled in front of her fire to bask in its warmth? Flames held no fear for him.

“We’
ve got to go Sugar; if we don’t we may be killed. Please try to understand.”

The wolf remained rigid, but hopeful he might
eventually follow, Tia trudged for nearly five minutes in the blinding snow before hearing a shout sounding strangely like her name. She ducked behind a large fir and pulled out the Bowie knife, holding it in readiness.

“Tia!” called the voice again.
“Tia! Are you out there? Tia? Come back girl; it’s snowing way too hard. I promise I won’t hurt you!”

How could someone have known it was her?
Tia backed against the tree, knife held ready as a shadow loomed to the right of her. She slashed downward, aiming for the assassin’s heart, but his strong hand caught her arm and flattened her against the tree trunk. It was Jon Simons.

“What the hell are you
up to, girl?” shouted Jon, who’d barely been able to avoid the thrust of the dangerous Bowie knife.

“Get your
hands off me! If you don’t take your hands off me this instant, I’ll scream!”

Jon dropped his hands and stepped back, keeping out of the
range of her knife. “Go ahead. Be my guest; scream away,” he countered. The snow flew about his face as Tia slowly lowered the knife. “So just what are you doing out here Tia?”

“As if you don’t know!” she accused, peering wildly about her as if she expected his friend to launch an attack at any minute.

“Why do I somehow get the feeling that this isn’t a social visit? Your wolf is waiting at the edge of my camp so it’s obvious he has a lot more sense than you! I could see your tracks leading off into the woods and wondered why you didn’t wait. So where’s your Blazer?”

“The
Chevy is where I left it, sitting in my driveway near the shed.”

“What?” asked Jon
, thoroughly confused “Why would you come here without your truck? Did you walk down the road?”

“No
, I followed the stream.” Tia suddenly realized Jon’s dark green eyes didn’t appear threatening, only puzzled.

“Someone shot at me while I
waited for Paul. The truck he’d rented from Roy somehow crashed over the embankment near my cabin. When I checked out the vehicle the windshields were smashed as if someone had fired at it. Just as I was about to take a look inside someone shot at me.”

Jon straightened up, his face distorted in u
nmasked disbelief.

“Shot at you?
You’ve got to be kidding!”

“You think I’d joke
about something like that? They shot at me, not once but twice. I didn’t wait around to check if it was a hunter who’d pegged me as his autumn trophy, though how someone couldn’t recognize I wasn’t a deer in this bright blue parka is beyond me. So I ran, and because the truck and the shooter stood between me and my cabin I headed in your direction. I thought maybe you’d have some food and warm clothes.”

Jon gazed at her intently,
his dark green eyes settling on the backpack.

“I can see you made a house call,” he stated flatly, his tone not amused.
“I would have provided anything you needed
and
driven you back to your cabin if you’d asked.”

“I was in such a rush to get back to my cabin and call the police that I couldn’t wait. I’m certain Paul has been injured, or worse yet, might even be dead.”
She paused at his stern face. “I planned to return your stuff,” she mumbled, almost reluctantly.

“Paul’s your old boyfriend right, the one coming for a visit?” asked Jon, scanning the forest.
The snow fell heavily as he pondered for a moment. “Well, one thing’s for certain I can’t let you continue to your cabin. It’s far too dangerous since the blizzard’s started. Return to my camp and in the morning I’ll drive you back to your cabin if conditions permit.”

“But Paul might be hurt or dying!”

“And you really expect to help him now? The sun is setting in less than an hour, the temperature has dropped by at least thirty degrees, and the way you’re dressed you won’t last more than an hour out here.”

Tia straightened her shoulder indign
antly, flipping her blonde ponytail over her shoulder where it peeked out from under the bright Scandinavian cap, her gray eyes blazing.

“Besides,” added Jon reasonably, “your wolf is in serious condition; he nearly collapsed on top of my fire and I have to get h
im some medical treatment. What were you planning to do? Drag him back to your cabin?”

“I just wanted to be safe; to find a place where no one will bother me!” Tia held her back rigidly against the trunk of the tree, angling as far away from Jon as she could.

“Are we talking about now or the real reason you’ve been holed up here in the wild for fifteen months?”
His measuring stare stripped her defenses bare.

“I don’t need anybody!” she retorted, her bared teeth suddenly resembling Sugar’s.

“Just like I don’t,” he replied gently, his expression suddenly altering as his eyes softened. “Look Tia, you’re cold and exhausted.” he said exasperatedly. “Return to my camp and I’ll fix you something warm to eat and drink and we’ll try to help your wolf.”

Tia hesitated, suddenly wishing she could trust this complex man. “Somebody shot him,” she insisted, gazing pointedly at him.

“Look, it wasn’t me!” denied Jon venomously. “It isn’t in my nature to injure other human beings or defenseless creatures, but I guess you just don’t know me well enough to understand that. Given the current weather conditions and the state of the wolf, you need to somehow overcome your prejudices and try and trust me. I swear on my sister’s grave I won’t harm you. ” With that Jon turned and trudged off through the deepening snow, not even checking if she followed.

The air
was thick with the rapidly falling flakes and Tia’s toes were already numb even with the three pairs of socks. Belatedly Tia realized she’d been foolhardy. How could she have ever expected to make it through the wilderness with only her light parka and inadequate boots during an impending blizzard? Jon’s straight back disappeared through the swirling snow and Tia suddenly understood why she’d headed toward his camp instead of the main road. Jon cared. For all his rough edges and wary eyes, he really cared what happened to her and the wolf and that empathy frightened her more than any blizzard.

Tia
trailed him back to the camp. By the time she’d sloughed through the driving snow, his campfire had burned completely out. Jon waited for her under the canopy of the first tent she’d entered.

“I placed the wolf in here. The wound’s seeping and I’m concerned about his breathing.
I think you should take a look at him.”

Tia stamped her boots and stepped into the rel
ative warmth of the tent. In the dim light she discerned the wolf crumpled atop of the quilt Jon had placed over the canvas floor. A thick green wool blanket covered Sugar’s heaving chest and though Tia was no doctor, she sensed the wolf was fiercely ill, perhaps even in shock.

“Oh Sugar,” moaned Tia,
placing her gloved hand upon his rough gray fur.

“I’ll get the first aid kit from my tent. Let’s see if we can force some antibiotics down him.”

Jon disappeared, returning in just a few moments with snow thickly clinging to his shoulders and bare head. He knelt beside the wolf and carefully removed the blood soaked pressure bandage. The stitches she’d so carefully administered the previous day were coming apart.

“He was trying to protect and guide me,” said Tia helplessly.

Jon observed her stricken face for a moment. “Let’s get more light in here,” he said softly, his tone reassuring and calm.

An overhead lantern hung from the V of the tent and Jon turned the valve while holding a lit match.
The mantle glowed white as he adjusted the flame, throwing the tent into glaring brilliance. Kneeling, he once again repositioned the wolf and using alcohol swabs, dabbed the oozing wounds of the unconscious canine before administering a shot of antibiotics.

“Do you think you could try to re-stitch these few places where the wound has pulled apart?” he asked, eyeing her tear-stained face.

“Of course,” insisted Tia, removing her gloves and flexing her cold fingers.

Jon moved to the metal box on the floor and pulled a maroon pouch from it. Inside were scissors, basic sewing equipment, tweezers, razors and bandages. Jon handed Tia an alcohol wipe and she scrubbed her hands, hoping her fingers were sterilized enough to prevent infection. Handing her a needle, Tia tried vainly to put the thread through the eye, but her shaky fingers wouldn’t cooperate. Jon removed the needle from her trembling hands and deftly threaded it, tying a knot in the end before dipping its length into a capful of alcohol.

“It should be boiled
but this will have to do. Do you have enough light?”

Tia nodded. Even though the wolf lay senseless, Tia spoke to him, telling Sugar how sorry she
was to hurt him and how he’d be all better by tomorrow. The words might not have done anything for Sugar, but they certainly served to calm her. Six separate times she knotted and cut the thread before re-looping the needle and moving on to the next spot where the sutures had pulled loose. Finally finished, Jon took the needle from her trembling hands and briefly squeezed her fingers.

“You did just fine,” he said quietly, pouring some alcohol over the wounds as the wolf twitched unco
ntrollably. With the new pressure bandage firmly in place she sat back, suddenly near tears. Jon patted her shoulder roughly.

“I
’ll try to start up the fire again just outside the canopy and rustle you up some warm food and cocoa.” He removed the oversized ski pants from the hanger. “Forage through the trunk and see if there’s warmer clothing you can don and change into these. I’m sure Ben won’t mind.”

He zipped up the canvas door, leaving her alone with the still wolf. Tia covered the unconscious cre
ature with the green wool blanket, tucking it about him like a parent would a small child.

Suddenly Tia felt ashamed she’
d stolen the jerky and clothing articles. Jon was clearly not her enemy. He’d twice tried to save Sugar’s life and offered her anything she needed, from his truck to his clothing. She remained by the unconscious wolf for a full ten minutes until the rejuvenated flames outside illuminated the tent canvas. She hurriedly donned more clothing and stepped outside.

Jon added large logs to the fire as a metal coffee pot, perched over the dancing flames, hissed gently.
A round cast-iron pot hung next to it and Jon had placed canned stew into the heavy container and now stirred the mixture. The snow struck the white hot flames, but Jon had added enough fuel so that in the relative shelter of the canopy the flames didn’t die out.

Tia watched Jon labor quietly.
He was definitely a man of few words and streamlined action. She could imagine him as one quite successful in all his endeavors, though he was so different from the more flamboyant Steve.

“I don’t know how long I’m able to keep this fire going, but hopefully we’ll mange some hot stew and cocoa.
Are you warm enough?” He glanced up at her and Tia imagined she appeared ridiculous in the oversized ski pants rolled up almost five inches so she wouldn’t trip over them. She’d placed her feet into a pair of large snow boots a good inch and a half too large for her and felt like a circus clown, preparing to take a tumbling spin if she walked more than two feet. If Jon was amused he didn’t show it.

“Sit here under the shelter of the canopy and I’ll bring you some stew.”
He ladled out the canned mixture and placed it upon the small wobbly metal table nestled between the two chairs. Jon poured hot water into two metal cups and stirred in the chocolate mix, joining her a few minutes later.

“I’m afraid it’s not the quality you served us, but hopefully will take the edge off your hunger.”

Tia smiled, her mouth too full to comment, not caring that the salty meat and potato mixture burned her tongue. Jon ate quietly, watching her gobble down her food. When she was finally satisfied he spoke.

“I want you to tel
l me exactly what happened after I left you.”

Tia recite
d the details as best she could, her voice rising in fear when remembering Tory was still out there on his snowmobile and Paul had disappeared. After her recital Tia wiped her mouth on her sleeve, watching the snowflakes slowly gain victory over the bounding fire which hissed urgently in protest.