Wind Shadow (12 page)

As she chained her bike to a tree, Annie trudged over, her eyes animated with a sparkling mixture of concern and delight. “Say, Rex …”

He swiveled at the sound of her voice, stiffening. “Can’t you see I’m talking to Silky? I’d rather not be disturbed right now.”

Annie shrugged in a comical exaggeration of helplessness. “I’m on your side, dollface, but I think you’re gonna be disturbed whether you want to or not.”

He raised his eyes to the sky and sighed expansively. “Well, what is it?”

Annie scratched her ear, her eyes drifting disinterestedly off toward the gravel road. “Nothing really—your tent’s catching on fire, is all.” She’d said it so casually that neither Rex nor Silky believed their ears at first. After a motionless second, both jaws dropped and Rex shouted, “My
what’s
on fire!”

Annie smirked, shaking her head. “Naw, just your tent.” She gestured over her shoulder. “I told you not to set up so close to the fire with this wind.”

He exploded, grabbing her shoulders. “Why you little—
you did this!
”

Silky jumped into the fray, pulling one of Rex’s arms loose and slipping in front of Annie. “Rex”—she tugged at the front of his nylon shirt—“come on. We need to see about your tent!”

The urgent tremble in her warning brought him back to sanity. “The tent!” He dashed off toward the fire.

Silky followed, but not before she gave a chilling look to her friend. The deep green glitter in her eyes clearly communicated that she thought Annie’s sense of humor would put her in traction one day. Unruffled, Annie only grinned.

The tent was scorched and dirty, but whole.
Quick action by Wade and Leonard, scooping damp earth onto the flames, had smothered it before any real damage had been done. Rex knelt to examine the nylon as Leonard, wiping his hands on a towel, assured, “It’s quite sound.”

Nodding in agreement, Rex came up off of one knee. “Looks okay. Thanks.” He held out a hand toward Leonard. “Say, if you have any clout with that redheaded arsonist, give her a good kick in the pants for this, will you. I’d kill her.”

Leonard’s big moustache twitched with his frown. “You’ve eluded me there, Overbridge.”

Rex flipped a finger at the nylon, raising a cloud of dust. “To put it bluntly, Huff, Annie set my tent on fire to be spiteful.”

Leonard’s mild eyes widened. “Say now, friend. I’d have to argue that—”

“Yes, Rex,” Wade interjected, scratching a cheek darkened with a day’s growth of beard. “I saw what happened. The wind blew some burning pine needles near the tent. Annie had nothing to do with it.”

Rex looked doubtful. “No? You sure?”

Leonard nodded. Wade raised a brow as though his word was not ordinarily questioned.

“Rex, setting tents on fire is kid’s stuff. When I get you, it’ll be deadly—but it’ll have class. I promise.” Annie clapped him on the back. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll help you move this filthy hovel and then you can help me scrape carrots for dinner. That way you can keep an eye on me.” Clapping him one more time, a little harder than
might have been considered comradely, she motioned to Silky, who had lagged behind. “And you, lovey, go gather some fireweed. We need a salad. Take your time and just get the tender shoots.”

Silky shook her head in faint amusement. Nodding, she turned away. “One nature salad coming up.”

For fifteen minutes, she meandered, picking the fuchsia-tipped weed along with several other varieties of edible plants that she’d become familiar with during the trip. There was something very satisfying about gathering food from the wild. But for the occasional rustle of leaves, and the distant tremble of thunder, she felt as though she were walking in a fragrant painting … except, of course, the bear cub was moving.

Bear cub!
She became a ramrod with eyes, watching as the baby bear romped in the tall grasses beside the path. Like a carefree child, it tumbled and bounced up, only to tumble again in its zigzagging route toward her. After the initial shock, Silky relaxed, smiling. Lifting her bouquet, she waved it at the cub, calling softly, “Hello, baby.” Cooing as though she were talking to a human infant, she called again, “You’re a cute little thing.”

The cub stopped and stared, twenty-odd feet away, looking every bit as startled by her presence there as she had been by his. She laughed. “Don’t be afraid of me.”

A loud rustle in the shadows of the dense trees
beyond the small clearing announced another presence. Silky squinted into the deep shadow, but could see nothing. All she was sure of was an apprehensive tingle at the base of her neck. She would have given anything to know that the roar that vibrated through her was only the bawl of thunder. She swallowed spasmodically, frozen to the spot.

In the next instant, she was shoved off the path, beyond the line of trees, and thrown unceremoniously on her face into the mud. She tried to lift her head, but she was restricted by a heavy weight as a hoarse whisper ordered, “Lie still and keep quiet!”

She had only been able to turn her face slightly to the side, but at least she could breathe even if she couldn’t see. “Wha—”

A hand clapped over her mouth, and she could feel the cool ooze press against her lips. Deciding that she didn’t care to eat any more of the stuff than necessary, she kept her mouth shut.

The bashing sound grew nearer and then stopped like the mighty silence of death. She could feel her heart beating like a berserk woodpecker in its attempt to move the blood that had frozen in her veins.

Oh, why didn’t something happen! A sudden rustle above, in the direction of the path, grabbed her complete attention. A low snarl followed closely and she squeezed her eyes shut. She’d always heard that at times like this, a person was supposed to see her life flash before
her, but all she could see was the horrible flash of angry bear—over and over.

The rustling grew more distant, and the snarling stopped. Was the bear going away? Was she actually going to remain alive? And if she was, would she ever be able to stand erect again?

Slowly the hand lifted from her mouth as the hushed voice gritted, “If you keep living with such abandon, you’re going to end up abandoning living.”

Silky spit mud. Recognizing Wade’s voice with a mixture of amazement and regret, she exhaled heavily. “Off!”

His low chuckle rumbled through her. “What about the grizzly?”

“Tell him to get off, too.”

“Her.”

“What?” Silky turned her head further, eyeing him suspiciously as best she could with her face caked with mud.

“It was a her—a mama bear protecting her young.”

Silky’s weighted lungs expelled a disgruntled moan. “Almost done in by a cliché.”

He chuckled again. “Maybe so, but I must admit it was a damn sight more exciting than most clichés you run into.”

She tried to elbow him in the ribs. “Off.”

“Sure?” he asked easily, her effort to dislodge him failing miserably.

“Wade, you’re crushing me.”

“Maybe if you turn over?” The suggestive
overtones in his question were as plain as the mud on her face.

“
Get off of me, Wade Banning!
” she ordered through clenched jaws.

He made no move to obey. “Is that all the thanks I get for saving your life?”

She wriggled, then grimaced at the slimy feeling of the wet dirt against her body. She could only speak with difficulty, considering the press on her lungs. “Thanks … now—get off.”

“Ahhh, that’s better.” He rolled away. Sitting up in the goo, he put his hands on her arm and helped her rise. “I was afraid you’d make a flowery speech and embarrass us both.”

Ignoring him, she plucked at her muddy T-shirt. Looking down, she could see that her nipples were taut beneath the once-pink nylon fabric. Her mud-covered face became a mixed blessing, when she realized that her fiery blush of mortification was hidden beneath it. Wrinkling her nose, she could feel the thick stuff pull at the skin on her cheeks. “I can’t believe this happened.”

“I’m looking at it, and I can’t believe it.” He reached up and wiped some mud off her face. Fighting a smile, he reprimanded softly, “Don’t you remember what I told you about walking along wooded paths out here?”

She lifted a grimy chin. “Beware of men who throw you into mud?”

He smiled slightly. “I’m glad to see that you can face a grizzly and not lose your sense of
humor. No. I meant, if you must use the paths, make some kind of noise—sing—talk to yourself.”

She sniffed derisively, “Why? Don’t bears attack crazy people?” Without waiting for his answer, she pushed herself up to stand, almost failing back into his lap in the slippery mud. “Oh!”

He reached out and caught her by the hips. “Very funny.” He kept one hand on her hip as he stood. “But it’s better to look a little crazy than be a bear’s leftovers.”

She jutted her chin, glaring at him, but her stern frown melted as she scanned his mud-streaked face. Black curls that fell across his forehead looked as though they had been dipped in chocolate. His hands and forearms were encrusted with mud, and his shorts and legs were caked. He looked every bit as much the victim as she did, and for the first time it hit her that Wade had really risked his life to save her! Shaking her head incredulously at the new thought, she smiled up at him. “You know? You don’t look so good, Lieutenant. I wonder if Sir Galahad got that dirty. Maybe you just need a little more practice.”

He crossed his arms at his chest. “No, thanks. I figure if you live through a grizzly attack, you’re as perfect as you need to get.”

There was a little smudge of dirt on his cheek, and as they smiled at each other, she found it totally impossible not to reach up and brush
away the mark. “Thank you, Wade,” she murmured.

His gentle expression mirrored hers, but he said nothing. He seemed to be waiting for her to go on. Lowering her hand self-consciously, she mumbled, “Why are you here, anyway?”

“I came …”—pausing, he flexed his jaw, uncrossing and then recrossing his arms—“to apologize for the other night.” Silky could sense the effort that this declaration was taking.

“Dammit, Silky. I know your personal life isn’t my business. I—I’m sorry I butted in.” He expelled a breath in barely controlled anger, running a muddy hand through his hair. “I give you my word I’ll stay out from now on.” Raising a finely arched brow, he asked, “OK?”

Her heart went out to him. Lowering her gaze thoughtfully to his hand clenched at his side, she answered carefully, “To be honest, Wade, that fight may have saved my life today.” She lifted her eyes to meet his again, and when her gaze met his, the contact was surprisingly soft. Breathing a little shallowly, she finished, “An apology isn’t necessary.”

He smiled, nodding obligingly. “All right, then. I have just one more question.” Swinging his broad shoulders down, he plucked the muddy, broken clump of fireweed from its mucky grave. Knowing that he had been forgiven, his dark eyes twinkled with fun as he asked, “Shall we toss the salad?”

A laugh gurgled up from her throat. “I’ve
never seen one more in need.” Touching one limp stalk, she suggested, “You do the honors.”

Flipping the muddy greenery over his shoulder, he grinned. “Done. Now if we work together, we’ll have a salad gathered in no time.”

“Maybe later.” She shook her head. “I’ve got to get out of these clothes before they harden on me.”

His look was vivid and penetrating as he touched the side of her cheek with his thumb, smoothing away a fleck of dirt. “May I help?”

Something in his tone made her eyes flutter uneasily away and her mud-caked skin feel flushed. Nervously, she cleared her throat of an odd obstruction. Lifting tentative eyes, she regarded him with wary determination. “You know the answer to that, Wade.”

He pursed his lips, and she thought she could see a tensing in his jaw before he nodded. “Yeah. I may be a cop, but I’m not a dumb cop.”

She lifted her chin. “Now who’s talking stereotypes?”

He chuckled. “Okay, okay.” Changing the subject, he cocked his head toward the trees away from the path. “The Yukon River is just over there, if you want to clean up.”

“Really!” she exclaimed in an excited breath. Craning her neck, she squinted into the thick line of trees. She could see nothing, but she thought she could barely hear the rush of water. “Thanks, Wade.” Single-mindedly, she headed off past him in the direction he’d indicated.

He took her wrist, swinging her around on the
slippery ground. “Hold up a second. You don’t think I’m going to let you traipse off alone again, do you?”

She frowned up at him. “Why not?”

“Because you’re a far cry from Daniel Boone, for one reason. Besides, I need to clean up, too.”

“You?” she squeaked. You can’t come with me. I’m going to wash my clothes.”

He shrugged in easy acceptance. “So am I. Don’t worry. I’ll stay a gentlemanly distance away.”

She raised doubtful brows. “Just how many miles, exactly, are in ‘a gentlemanly distance’?”

His laughter rumbled like deep thunder. “I’ll stay too far away to grab, and as a bonus, I’ll turn my back.”

“You’re all heart, Lieutenant,” she grumbled darkly.

With a sidelong expression of amusement, he put a casual arm lightly across her shoulders and propelled her over the grassy rise. There, like magic, glistened the Yukon River as it churned and rushed around a wide bend.

Silky stepped out from under his arm. “You go on downstream.” She arched her arm high, pointing as though she were taking in a good deal of the earth’s surface. “Stop when you get to Brazil.”

“On the other hand,” he asked mildly, “can
I
trust
you
not to peek?” With her answering groan, he grinned and turned away, walking some twenty feet down the gravel shore.

As Silky peeled off her crusty clothes behind a
low, water-hugging bush, a soft rain began to fall, gentling her spirits with its cool cleansing. She waded out into water that was waist deep, making sure to keep her back toward Wade, and began scrubbing the mud out of her top and shorts.

A sledgehammer crack lit up the sky and its angry rumble made her stiffen. Her first panicked thought was that the bear had returned. But, remembering the lightning, logic returned, and she realized that it was just the approaching storm, now much closer.