Untamed (14 page)

PART TWO

If the adder could bear

and the blindworm could see,

Neither man nor beast

would ever go free.

—Nineteenth-century proverb

Chapter 9

Semiconscious and dazed, Josie snuggled deeper into her bed of snow. She was surprisingly warm—so content, in fact, that she felt as if she could lie there forever. Something at the back of her mind pricked at her more conscious self, urging her to get up and save herself before it was too late. Josie was so darned comfortable, she couldn't bring herself to pay heed to the warnings. All she wanted to do was lie there in the soft, warm snow dreaming of springtime and wild roses and sweet, sweet perfume.

Scattered memories came to her as she dozed, images of racing through the forest on the back of a runaway stallion, of glimpsing hoofprints in the snowy path ahead. She remembered thinking that The Black must be following the trail they'd left earlier, and that now he was headed straight for home. Soon she would be safe inside Daniel's cabin, his strong arms around her, soothing her fears, his lips, pressed to hers. Soon, very soon... and yet something was wrong.

When it came to her—a terrifying memory of The Black rounding a bend in the icy road at top speed—Josie gasped and choked on a mouthful of snow. Something had spooked the stallion, she recalled. She thought it might have been a bear, but she didn't know for sure because when the horse shied, she was catapulted right out of the saddle. She'd been airborne, a lovely memory of floating like an eagle for a few seconds, and then found herself rolling down the side of a hill, tumbling end over end in the snow until she connected with something hard.

Josie breathed deeply, catching the pine-scented mulch of the earth beneath her, and surmised that her fall had been stopped by a tree. Was she hurt? She didn't think so. All Josie could feel at the moment was safe and warm. And that something wet was nuzzling the back of her ear.

The Black. Of course.

That no-account excuse for a horse was standing guard over her, no doubt filled with remorse over his brutal treatment of his rider. It was the least he could do after nearly killing her. Josie shook her head, hoping her fragmented mind would come together again the way pieces of a puzzle fell into place. She blinked several times, raised her chin a bare inch above her warm bed, and tried to focus on the landscape before her.

A sea of white stretched out as far as the eye could see, the blinding waters disturbed by several-tall ships. That didn't make any sense. She'd never even been to the seashore. Josie blinked a couple of more times, forcing her eyes to focus, and when she looked again, she realized the vessels were nothing more exotic than trees. Beneath some of those majestic pines stood a few head of cattle, each pawing through the crusty snow for the fodder beneath. Assuming this was Daniel's herd, that meant the cabin could be very close.

The horse's muzzle left Josie's ear, and in its place, came a raspy tongue that licked the entire side of her face.

"All right, all right," she said, struggling to her hands and knees. "Just give me a minute."

Actually, Josie soon discovered, she needed more like five or ten minutes. Now that she was fully conscious and aware of her predicament, she no longer felt warm or safe. She shivered inside Daniel's jacket and shook off the layer of snow that had collected on her back. Movement brought the first of several aches and pains, none of which, she deduced, were caused by broken bones or life-threatening injuries. She was lucky, and she knew it. Still, Josie had her doubts about throwing her battered body up on the back of that wild stallion again. Even if she were fool enough to try and mount him, what guarantee was there that she could stay on him any better than she had the last time?

The Black nudged her then, good and hard, with enough force to knock her off balance and onto her side.

"Hey," she cried, determined to gain at least a little dominance over the ornery horse. "Don't you think it's about time you learned who's in charge? From now on—"

The words, her heartbeat, everything seemed to die in her throat as Josie got a good look at the belligerent stallion—and saw that it was no horse at all.

Utterly dumbstruck, the only words she could think of fell out of her mouth in a husky whisper. "My God."

* * *

In the barn, Daniel finished grooming the mare and the pinto, then gave them an extra ration of feed. As much as he hated to admit it, all three horses were exhausted, unable to take Long Belly on a search for Josie until they'd had a chance to rest up. The only option was for the big Cheyenne to take the mule and make do as best he could.

The sooner the better, thought Daniel as he stepped out of the barn and into a blast of frigid air. If Josie wasn't found in the next hour or so, she couldn't possibly survive in the freezing winds that were kicking up, never mind the blizzard that was sure to follow.

Moving as quickly as he could with only one crutch to aid him, Daniel returned to the cabin to find Long Belly fussing over Sissy, who remained in the travois on the floor.

"You'd better get going," said Daniel. "Another storm's coming in, fast and hard. The horses are spent, so you'll have to take the mule."

"I will go," Long Belly assured him. "But first I must see if Buffalo Hair is well. She worries me greatly."

"You get your butt on that mule. I'll take care of Sissy if she needs doctoring."

"But you cannot do what must be done." Long Belly rose, facing Daniel with more defiance than he'd ever seen in him. "Even I cannot tend to Buffalo Hair alone. We must move her to your bed, gently, so we do not cause her pain or further injury."

Biting back words he knew he might regret, Daniel kept a grip on his temper long enough to take another look at Sissy. Long Belly had removed the rope he'd used to lash her to the travois and unwrapped the horse blanket that had shielded her from the elements. She was moaning softly, her eyes rolling and twitching beneath fluttering lids, and her lips were taut, rigid with pain. Since she'd been crushed by a horse, Sissy could be suffering from all manner of injuries, some of them potentially fatal.

"All right," he said, resigned to this much. "How do you propose we get her on the bed?"

"I will drag the litter to the edge of the mattress. Then each of us will lift the ends of the poles at the same time. Can you do this with your broken leg?"

Daniel had an idea it wouldn't be any too comfortable, but figured he could manage, "Drag it on over here. Time's a-wasting."

By pushing his splinted leg out behind him, Daniel was able to bear most of his weight and his half of the travois by using the strength in his right leg alone. Once they got Sissy on the bed, it was a simple of matter of dismantling the pine branches Long Belly had used for poles, then sliding the horse blanket out from beneath her.

"There," said Daniel, wiping the perspiration from his brow. "I'll take over from here."

To his consternation, Long Belly shook his head and sat down on the bed next to Sissy. "I must feel her bones to see where she is broken," he said, unbuttoning her buckskin shirt.

That's when Daniel's patience ran out. "I said I can do that, dammit. You should be out looking for Josie, who wouldn't even be lost if you hadn't done something so stupid as drag her out in this weather on my half-broke stallion, no less."

Long Belly's eyes twitched, but he didn't look up at Daniel. He remained silent and continued running his hands over ever inch of Sissy's nude torso. Then be examined each arm.

Exploding with frustration, Daniel lit into him, "What the hell were you thinking when you took those two women out of here? Were you thinking at all? You could have gotten the both of them killed—maybe you have."

His examination of her upper body complete, Long Belly buttoned Sissy's shirt, then turned to Daniel and glared. "It is you who drove me to take them away, you who forced me to make such a journey before the storm had finished with us."

"Me? Me?" Daniel kicked at the bed with his good leg, forgetting in his anger that he'd be putting his entire weight on the bad one. He groaned, and then fell heavily on the mattress beside Sissy.

"Careful you do not disturb her," warned Long Belly. "She has two bad ribs, one broken, the other torn from the others."

"Sorry," he said, meaning that much, but then he was right back at Long Belly's throat. "I just wish you'd show as much concern for poor Josie, who's probably frozen half to death by now."

The Cheyenne removed Sissy's leggings, then slipped his hands under the long shirt and began to probe her pelvis and hips.

As his fingers glided over the smooth contours of her body, Long Belly turned to Daniel and said, "I am very concerned for Broken Dishes, as I am for Buffalo Hair. I agree it was a stupid plan to take them to Miles City at this time, but you are as responsible for what has happened as this sad Indian."

"Why do you keep trying to blame me? I didn't even know you were leaving."

"It was you, was it not, who said to this foolish Cheyenne warrior that the worst thing I ever did was give a diseased woman to you?"

Daniel hated that Long Belly chose to bring up this point, especially since he'd used his own words against him. "Yes," he admitted, "I suppose that I did. But I never said that you ought to just up and take them back without consulting me."

Long Belly had worked his way down Sissy's thighs, and was feelings the bones of her knee as he said, "You told me that I owed you more than my miserable life for bringing Broken Dishes here. I did not think that I should bother you with the task of removing her and her disease from your bed."

Daniel suddenly felt like the back end of the mule. "Sorry, brother. You're right. Most of this is my fault, not yours."

Long Belly got up off the bed and put a hand on each of Daniel's shoulders. "I am as you say, the stupid red-skinned son of the bitch who made all this trouble. Do not blame yourself."

"But I never meant for—"

"Stop," said Sissy, drawing a rasping breath. "You fellahs are making me sick."

Daniel exchanged a quick glance with his brother, and then he tiptoed away from the bed, leaving the pair in peace.

"I must go now," said Long Belly to his patient. "You have many bruises and ribs that must heal, but I think you will be all right. My brother will tend to your needs while I search for Broken Dishes."

Sissy nodded, then drifted off again.

Long Belly headed for the door. "I go now."

"And hurry, would you?" said Daniel, hobbling along behind him. "If you don't find Josie soon, I'm afraid that... well, she might be..." He left that final, unthinkable thought unsaid.

"Do not worry, my brother. If you wish this worthless woman returned to your lodge, I shall find her."

Daniel smiled. "It is my wish. Now go, make haste."

He stood there in the doorway even after Long Belly had disappeared into the barn. Snow was falling harder now, not quite in blizzard proportions, but piling up in drifts as high as his waist. Daniel could barely stand to think of Josie out in this storm, cold, alone, probably frightened out of her mind. He closed his eyes, praying to God in a rare act of faith that she would be found alive and well. When he opened them again, he nearly collapsed in disbelief.

It took a minute or two to convince himself that his eyes weren't playing tricks on him, but there by the wellhouse he swore that he'd caught a fleeting glimpse of a woman with long auburn hair. Daniel moved to the edge of the porch, straining to see through the flurry of snowflakes, and there she was again, hurrying toward the open door of the barn.

"Josie?" he called, his heart in his throat.

But she continued on, apparently unable to hear him over the storm. Then she scurried, or rather limped, into the barn.

* * *

The last thing Josie expected to find when she ducked into the barn was Long Belly. But there he was, one hand fisted in the mule's mane as he prepared to mount the animal.