Winter Love Part 3

Had they shot and killed Pansy? he wondered, racing on, then thought that they hadn't. They would keep her for the winter and use her. Run faster, his mind urged, or you'll never see Laura again.

It was near sundown, and Fletch was exhausted when he came to a small clearing, and hope rose inside him. Cleared land meant someone lived nearby. Maybe help lay ahead.

He was midway across the stump-scattered field when something caught the sunlight a moment. He saw a puff of smoke, and at the same time felt a bullet slam into his shoulder. As he looked wildly around for a place to hide, and to return the shot, a fierce-looking Indian seemed to come out of nowhere. With a bloodcurdling scream, he launched himself at Fletcher and grabbed him in a bear hug.

Fletch knew that the savage's intent was to squeeze the life out of him and he fumbled for the knife stuck in its sheath. With the last of his strength he withdrew the long blade and with a short, hard jab plunged it under the brave's ribs.

The Indian stiffened, gave a deep sigh, and wilted to the ground, a thin line of blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. The knife dropped from Fletch's nerveless fingers, and he fell to the ground, the back of his s.h.i.+rt soaked with blood.

Lantern-light s.h.i.+ning in his eyes brought him back to awareness. It hurt him to breathe, to even move. After one effort to turn over on his side, he lay still. He slowly realized that his upper body was bare and that his shoulder was tightly bandaged. He recalled his encounter with the Indian and wondered who had found him and doctored him.

His slight movement was heard by the s.h.a.ggy-haired, black-bearded man sitting before a brightly burning fireplace. He raised his stocky body from a roughly constructed chair and walked across the hard-packed dirt floor to stand over Fletch.

"Well, feller," he said in a deep, rumbling voice, "I see you've decided to come back to the livin'. For a couple days there I wasn't sure you was gonna make it."

"How long have I been here?" Fletch's voice was rusty from disuse as he fingered his whiskered face. "Three days. Ravin' with a fever two of them days."

"Three days!" Fletch stared in disbelief When he got over his shock he stuck out his right hand. "I sure thank you for savin' my bacon-"

"Call me Daniel. Last names ain't important here in the wilderness," the big man said gruffly as he shook hands. "Well, then, you can call me Fletch. How did you come to find me?"

"I was out settin' traps along the lake when I heard a shot. I figured it come from the Injun I'd seen earlier skulking through the woods. I thought he must have seen a deer and took a shot at it. Then I heard his b.l.o.o.d.y screech and I knew he was jumpin' a white man. He was dead when I come upon the two of you." A grin stirred Daniel's beard. "You was nearly at the pearly gates, you was bleedin' so bad. I managed to get you on my back and bring you here to my cabin. It took Maida a long while to get the bullet out of you. The dad-burned thing was lodged beneath your shoulder blade."

Fletch eased his wounded shoulder into a more comfortable position. "I was one lucky man that you came along, Daniel." He looked solemnly at the big man. "I won't be forgetting that you saved my life, Daniel."

"Weren't no thin'." Daniel waved a dismissive hand. "I expect you'd do the same for me. Anyhow it was Maida who actually saved your life. It was her who got the bullet out, then sewed you up."

When Fletch glanced around the room looking for Maida, Daniel said, "She's out in the barn milkin' the cow. We ain't got around to marryin' yet. Ain't no preachers in these parts. We been meanin' to get back to civilization long enough to tie the knot. We want children, but Maida says not until we are hitched, that she won't bring a b.a.s.t.a.r.d into the world. You see, she's a b.a.s.t.a.r.d. Her stepfather was a mean son of a b.i.t.c.h. One night, a week after her mother had died from pneumony he tried to force himself on Maida. She managed to get away from him and run into the woods. That's where I found her, s.h.i.+vering and half scared to death. When she finally managed to tell me why she was out alone at night in the forest, I knew there was only one thing to do. Take her home with me."

Daniel rose and laid another log on the fire. When he sat back down he continued. "She was only fourteen, skinny, and not real putty. But she was awfully sweet. That sweetness of hers kept me from beddin' her until she was sixteen. I let her get to know me first, to know that, un-like her stepfather, I would never lay a hand on her in anger."

Fletcher thought of all his men friends, wondering if any of them would be as thoughtful as Daniel. He was pretty sure none would. He knew one thing, though. Daniel was one fine man.

Knowing that the bearded one wouldn't want his praises sung, Fletch said, "I hope my killing the Indian doesn't start an uprising against the whites in the area."

Daniel gave a short laugh. "His people will never know what happened to him. After I turned you over to Maida, I went back and buried him: scooped out a deep hole under a big rotten log. He won't be found in a hundred years. When he don't show up in his village and his people can't find him, they'll think a bear dragged him off to his den."

Before Daniel could say more the door opened and a young woman stepped inside, a pail hanging from her hand. "Your patient is finally awake, Maida." Daniel grinned at the bright-faced young girl.

"About time," she said, and Fletch received a wide, white smile. "I was beginning to think you were going to sleep your life away." Maida set the pail of milk on the table and walked over to the bed.

As Daniel had said, she wasn't pretty, Fletch thought, but she was comely enough with her brown eyes and s.h.i.+ny brown hair. Her voice was soft as she asked, "How are you feeling?"

Fletch's lips twisted wryly. "Pretty fuzzy-headed, but otherwise I feel all right."

"I expect you're hungry. I've got a pot of rabbit stew keeping warm on the hearth."

"I could eat that bear Daniel was talking about, fur and all." Fletch grinned. "My stomach hasn't known food for close to a week. I'm surprised I'm as strong as I am."

"It's not true that you haven't had any substance in your belly," Daniel spoke up. "Maida spooned a lot of venison broth down you while you was out of your head with fever."

"You did?" Fletch looked his surprise at Maida. "I guess that's why I don't feel so weak."

"Yeah," Daniel said. "Ain't nothin' like venison broth to build up a man's blood and strength."

As Maida began ladling stew into a wooden bowl from a black cast-iron pot, then sliced up half a loaf of sourdough bread, Fletch let his gaze travel over the room.

It was good-sized, caulked tightly between the logs. He felt no drafts in the corner where double bunk beds had been constructed. Opposite the fireplace was a table, a bench on either side of it. The two chairs flanking the fireplace completed the furnis.h.i.+ngs. And though the room was spa.r.s.ely furnished, it was neat and clean.

Daniel was placing another pillow behind Fletch, then helping him to sit up. When Maida placed his meal in his lap, he tore into it like a hungry animal. When he had sc.r.a.ped the bowl clean and asked for more, Daniel shook his head. "Your stomach will cramp if you eat any more. It's not used to solid food." Daniel took a smoked-up coffeepot off the hearth. "How about a cup of coffee?"

Fletch grinned. "Sounds good. Maybe it'll help fill the empty hole in my belly." Fletch was allowed a second cup of coffee, and while he drank it slowly, savoring its strong flavor, he asked, "When do you think I can travel?"

"Not for a while." Daniel poked up the dying fire and laid another log on it. "I'd say in about three weeks."

"Three weeks! I want to get home before winter sets in."

"You've got a nasty wound there, friend," Daniel said. "If it should start bleedin' again and you're on the trail alone, you'd most likely bleed to death."

"Where are you from, Fletch?" Maida settled herself on Daniel's lap. "I know you're not a native."

"I'm from Big Pine. It's in the Upper Peninsula in northern Michigan."

"I've heard of that settlement," Daniel said. "It's a right far piece from here." He stared thoughtfully into the crackling flames and after a couple minutes spoke again.

"You could probably strike out in a couple weeks if you had someone with you."

"Do you have someone in mind?"

"Maybe." Daniel tugged Maida's hair to make her look at him. "You still want to get married, gal?"

"You know I do, Daniel. I ache to hold your baby in my arms."

"All right then, we'll go with Fletch to Big Pine and stand before a preacher." He looked at a surprised Fletcher. "You've got one in Big Pine, don't you?"

"h.e.l.l, yes." Fletcher's teeth flashed in a wide smile. "I plan on using his services myself when I get back. We'll make it a double wedding."

"Is your intended named Laura?" Maida gave him a teasing grin. Fletch smiled sheepishly. "I guess I talked a lot during my fever."

Daniel let loose a loud guffaw. "Talk? You never shut up talkin' about Laura. We know everything there is to know about her. You also raved a lot about some friends bein' killed. Do you mind tellin' us about that?"

With a long sigh Fletch told his story. After a few moments of silence, Daniel said, "You sure acted the fool when you went off and left your woman like that. Don't be surprised if she's not waitin' for you when you get back."

"I know it, man. I have nightmares about her marrying someone else."

"Well, let's hope for the best and in the meantime work at gettin' your strength back." Daniel gave Maida a light slap on the rear. "Bedtime, gal."

While the big man shoveled ashes over the fire, Fletch turned his head to the wall as Maida undressed and pulled on a nightgown. Minutes later, in the dark room, the bunk above him began to rock and creak as Daniel made love to his gal. Fletch hoped with a wry smile that the bed wouldn't fall on top of him.

Chapter Four.

The valley below was veiled in a thin gray mist when Laura walked out onto the kitchen porch and sat down on the top step. With her knees drawn up and her chin cupped in the hand whose elbow rested on one knee, her gaze drifted over the wide yard that separated the cabin from the post. The flowers in their beds had long since bloomed, with nothing left but dried stalks and brittle leaves that had been driven into the mud by the cold rain last week.

She had saved their seeds, however, and would scatter them over the rich soil next spring. She narrowed her eyes at a movement at the edge of the forest. Animal or renegade Indian?

Laura relaxed when a bear, weighing close to a thousand pounds, she judged, lumbered across the clearing, then disappeared in the forest. "You'd better get yourself into a cave or hollow log pretty soon, fatso," she muttered. "Snow will be falling any day now."

And I'll be glad, she thought, leaning her head on a supporting post. Big Pine's women would be mostly shut in then and she wouldn't have to see their sly looks, or hear the snide remarks and whispered words that went on behind her back.

There had been some talk and raised eyebrows when she and Pa got married, but that was nothing compared to what was being said after they saw Jolie's fair skin and light blond hair. She had seen the shocked looks on their faces, the knowing smiles that had been exchanged.

No one in the village believed that Taylor Thomas had sired the little one.

Laura knew they were convinced that Adam Beltran had fathered her child. If she and Adam happened to be in the post at the same time, knowing looks and smirks appeared on the faces of others in the post.

A long sigh escaped Laura's lips. No one had been more surprised than she when she had her first look at the almost white hair on her little daughter's head. And later when the soft blue eyes remained blue she was doubly bewildered. The Thomases, as well as the Morrises, were dark of hair, skin, and eyes.

She had come to the conclusion that there could be only one explanation. Generations back there must have been a fair man or woman on one side of the family. An aunt or an uncle or maybe a grandparent.

She wondered what Fletch would think of Jolie if, and when, he ever saw her. And what would be his reaction to her marrying Pa? It would be awkward all the way around. Pa would probably be embarra.s.sed a little, and Fletch was sure to feel shame that he had made love to his father's wife.

Laura hoped that the son would feel a lot of shame. It wouldn't be fair if he got off scot-free from their one time of lovemaking. So far she had borne the brunt of that event.

When would Fletch get home? she wondered. It was the last of October with winter nipping at their heels. If he didn't make it in soon, it would be many more months before the snow-choked pa.s.ses melted, enabling him to get through.

But he'd return sooner or later, she knew. He and Pa were very close, and Fletch wouldn't stay away any longer than necessary. And there was Milly Howard, whom he'd been courting, the woman whom, according to gossip, he would marry.

Laura snorted her disdain for the woman. Milly certainly wasn't sitting home waiting for Fletch's return. Nightly she entertained some man or other. Laura shook her head. Why was Fletch so blind when it came to that s.l.u.t?

The sun was beginning to sink and the air to grow colder, and Laura was thinking of going in when her friend Justine Fraser, the only one who had stood by her, called out a greeting. Laura looked up to see the pretty, bright-faced young woman walking briskly down the path that led from her parents' home a quarter mile away.

"You look mighty pleased with yourself" Laura smiled when her friend plopped down beside her.

"Oh, I am pleased. You'll never guess why."

"Old Eli at the mill asked you to marry him?" Laura teased. Eli was 75 years old and did odd jobs around the grain mill.

"You are so funny today, Laura." Justine slapped playfully at Laura's hands. "But someone did ask me to marry him."

"Justine! Who?" Laura exclaimed.

"Tommy Weatherford. Besides my parents you are the first to know."

Laura clasped Justine's hands between her own. "I can't tell you how happy I am for you, Justine. You've loved him for so long."

Justine smiled, her eyes twinkling. "I guess when you married Taylor, Tommy gave up his hope of getting you and turned to me."

"That's not true," Laura protested. "Tommy was never seriously interested in me. We were only good friends."

"He was interested in you, Laura, but I never held it against you. Every single fellow in the village had dreams of marrying you. Haven't you noticed that there have been two other weddings since yours? When you were suddenly out of their reach, the men started looking at the rest of us girls."

"You're mistaken, but I'm not going to argue with you. Now, when is the wedding taking place?"

"We hope before it snows." Justine blushed. "Tommy doesn't want to wait too long."

"I wonder why," Laura said, tongue in cheek, and Justine blushed all the redder.

Laura laughed softly, then asked, "Will you have your own home or will you live with his mother?"

"We'll have our own place," Justine said proudly. "Tommy felled the trees for the cabin a couple weeks ago and started framing it out yesterday. He waited until then to ask me to marry him."

"He's a smart young man to know that there is no roof big enough for two mistresses."

"Of which I'm thankful," Justine said. "His mother is very domineering. I'd hate living with her. The first thing Ma asked me was 'Do you have to live with that woman?'"

Justine looked at Laura and changed the subject. "I want you to stand up with me on my big day."

"Oh, but, Justine, are you sure?" Laura looked alarmed. "You know the bad name I have now. Everyone will be scandalized."

"I don't care if they are or not. We've been close friends since we were little girls. It's my wedding and I'll ask whom I please to stand up with me. Those who take offense can just stay away."

"If you're sure, I'd be honored to stand beside you," Laura said, tears glimmering in her eyes.

Pretending not to see that Laura was ready to cry, Justine stood up and said, "Good, that's settled." Then she walked away, her head in the clouds.

Laura watched Justine disappear in the gathering twilight and felt a pang of envy. Lucky little friend, she thought, getting to marry the man you love. She stood up after a while and walked back into the cabin. Maybe she'd never know that joy, but her baby had a name, and that was more important than anything else.

It was a raw and wet day when Fletcher, Daniel, and Maida set out. A misty freezing rain glazed the surface of the deer trail they followed, making it almost impossible for Maida to stay on her feet. When she slipped and fell the second time, Daniel laughed, and after he helped her to her feet he hung on to her arm as they moved on.

Fletch, being a healthy specimen of manhood, had healed rapidly. Within a week he was able to go hunting while Daniel spent the time gathering up the traps he had laid down. He would reset them when he and Maida returned, weather permitting.

Fletch had shot three deer in as many days, and with Maida's help he had cut them into serving pieces to be cooked on the trail when they made night camp. He also cut thin strips of the venison which Maida roasted slowly over a low-burning fire. These strips of jerky could be chewed as they walked along, making it unnecessary to waste time by stopping to cook a noon meal.

All three were in high spirits. Fletch was looking forward to seeing Laura, to ask her to marry him, and Maida couldn't wait to get married and start her family. As for Daniel, he was always happy when his Maida was happy.