Savage Autumn (23 page)

“Farley, what’s the matter? Are you hurt?”

“I think I blundered into a trap, Joanna. I’ve done some damned fool things in my life, but I didn’t never think I’d get caught in another man’s trap.”

Joanna started digging frantically while pushing the snow away from his legs. She gasped when she discovered his right leg was caught just above the ankle in a big-toothed trap. The clinking sound she’d heard had been the trap springing shut. The snow near the trap was becoming bloodstained and Joanna was frantic, fearing she would be unable to free Farley. If she couldn’t free him and stop the flow of blood, she knew he would bleed to death. With furious determination, Joanna began digging deeper into the snow. She discovered that the trap was securely chained to a tree, and no amount of pulling and tugging would make it give way.

Farley groaned as he sat up. “That there’s a wolf trap…I ’spect I’m lucky my ankle ain’t broken. Hurts like hell, though. You’re gonna have to help me pry them teeth apart. I feel weak as a newborn baby.”

“Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it, Farley.” She could see that he was in a great deal of pain. At the moment his face was drained of color and she feared he would soon lose consciousness.

Farley leaned forward trying to help Joanna, but feeling dizzy, he lay back gasping in pain. “What you have to do is push them two levers on either side of the trap down at the same time. I don’t seem to have the strength to help you none.”

Joanna examined the trap and found the two levers Farley had told her about. She armed herself mentally, knowing she was going to need all of her strength. When she touched the metal it was so cold her hands stuck to it. She braced her back against the tree and with all of her strength, she pushed down on the levers. She felt them move a little, but not enough to free Farley.

“I think I’m a gonna slip away, Joanna,” he said in a whisper. Joanna watched helplessly as the old man lost consciousness. She was determined to free him.

She set her chin stubbornly and grasped the trap with renewed strength. She strained with all her might, and after what seemed forever, the hinges began to move apart. Joanna pushed them down by throwing all her weight into it. Then she heard the click that told her the trap was wedged open. With considerable effort, she managed to pull Farley’s leg free. She was careful not to spring the trap shut again.

It was some time later before she was able to stretch the shelter over Farley. Joanna pulled a warm blanket over him to ensure he wouldn’t freeze to death. She found a bottle of liquor among his belongings and poured it over his wound. She then bound his ankle with a clean piece of cloth, which she had soaked with the liquor.

Laying her head against his chest, she could hear his steady heartbeat and hoped he would be all right. Perhaps it would be best for him to remain unconscious for a time. Joanna couldn’t tell if his ankle had been crushed by the trap. She had done everything she could to make Farley comfortable. Now it was a matter of waiting. She felt lost and alone without Farley to guide her.

As night began to fall, the cold became even more intense. Joanna wished that Farley would awaken so he could tell her what to do. Joanna managed to build a fire and then lay down beside Farley, exhausted. She was too tired to think. Closing her eyes, she drifted off to sleep.

Joanna had no idea how long she had slept, but something disturbed her and she sat up suddenly. It was dark and the fire had died down. She had an uneasy feeling that was hard to define. It had stopped snowing and the clouds had moved away, revealing a pale moon.

Joanna checked Farley to see if he had awakened and found him watching her.

“Where’s my rifle, Joanna?” he said in a quiet voice.

She felt around in the half-light until she found it. “I have it, Farley.”

“Get both the rifles, Joanna. Check to make sure they’s loaded.”

Joanna did as he asked. “Yes, they are loaded,” she told him, wondering at the urgency in his voice.

Farley rose up on his elbow. “Build up the fire, but don’t move out of the firelight. Hurry!”

“Why, Farley?” she asked, beginning to feel frightened for the first time.

“ ’Cause we are ’bout to have company.”

Joanna’s eyes probed the darkened shadows, but she could see nothing.

“Do as I say, Joanna! We got troubles and I ain’t got time to explain.”

The urgency in his voice spurred her into action. If it was Windhawk, Farley wouldn’t want her to build up the fire, she reasoned. She gathered up several sticks of wood she had piled nearby and threw them on the fire. All the while her eyes were searching the darkness. The wood caught, and soon the campfire was ablaze.

Joanna backed up slowly and sat down beside Farley. “What’s out there, Farley? I don’t see anything.”

“You may not see it, but it sees you. We got us a panther prowling ’bout.”

Joanna slowly picked up the rifle. “W…what will it do to us?”

“Joanna, heed me. I ain’t feeling none too good. I don’t know how long I can keep from passing out on you. You gotta keep the fire lit and keep them rifles handy.”

“I’m frightened, Farley,” Joanna said as she held onto one of the guns as if it were a lifeline.

“I ain’t gonna tell you there’s not nothing to be scairt ’bout. Ifen that devil comes at you, aim fer between its eyes.”

Joanna nodded. “I will, Farley. I’ll try.”

Farley leaned back and closed his eyes. “I wish I could help
you, but…” his voice trailed off and Joanna knew he had lost consciousness again.

Never had she felt so alone. Her thoughts went to Windhawk. If she were to die, he would never know how hard it had been for her to leave him. She wished she could see him just one more time.

Hours passed—Joanna had used up all the wood and remembered that Farley had told her not to leave the ring of light. She strained her eyes trying to see past the dense trees. If there was a panther out there lurking in the darkness, she couldn’t see it.

Suddenly, she heard snow falling from the tree branches overhead and it landed on top of the shelter. Oh, God, no, she thought. The panther was just above them.

Joanna crawled out of the shelter and gazed up into the tree branches. She caught her breath as she saw the huge panther which was poised, waiting to spring down on her. The animal made a hideous sound and Joanna froze. She had foolishly left the gun behind.

“Windhawk!” she screamed, and her voice was carried away by the wind.

Windhawk heard Joanna calling out to him. He vaulted off his horse, taking in the situation with one glance. He could see the huge cat poised above Joanna, ready to spring. Without pausing to consider, he ran toward her while unsheathing his knife. He leaped across the campfire, grabbed Joanna by the shoulders, and shoved her behind him.

It was as if the panther became aware that he was now faced with a stronger adversary. The animal snarled and paced back and forth on the tree branch. All the while its eyes never left Windhawk.

Joanna realized that Windhawk had placed himself in danger to protect her. She was trembling, knowing that he faced certain death because of her.

Joanna wanted to tell Windhawk that she was glad he had come for her. She now knew she had been secretly hoping he would catch up with her and Farley. If he were to be killed by the panther, it would be her fault. She wanted to tell him so many things as she watched his body tense and his hand grip the knife tightly.

This was the man she loved. He was her husband; she couldn’t just cringe behind him, waiting to see him torn apart by the cat. Joanna saw Farley’s rifle lying not three feet away. If she went for the gun, would the panther spring? She decided it was worth the chance. Without hesitating, she leaped forward and in one smooth motion grabbed the gun, swinging it up toward the cat.

At that moment the panther sprang into the air. Joanna knew she had no time to take careful aim, so she merely pulled the trigger.

The cat caught Windhawk with a force that knocked him to the ground. Joanna could see that she had only wounded the animal. She watched as Windhawk’s muscles were strained to the limit as he tried to hold the panther’s sharp teeth away from his throat. He raised his knife and plunged it into the animal’s heart.

Moments passed and Joanna held her breath. She heard Windhawk groan. He pushed the dead panther off him and rolled over, staggering to his feet.

Joanna noticed he was covered with blood, but she didn’t know if it was his blood or the cat’s.

Windhawk’s eyes swept Joanna’s face, and she saw unbridled anger in the dark depths. She wanted to run to him and throw herself into his arms, but she hesitated. There was no softening in his dark eyes that glinted with anger. He showed no sign that he was happy to see her.

“You are hurt! Let me help you,” she said, taking a step toward him.

She saw him tense and knew that he would not want any help from her. “The time will come when you may wish I had allowed the beast to kill you, Jo-anna,” he told her in English.

“Windhawk, I…” She saw him stumble and fall, clutching his shoulder. Running to him, Joanna knelt down and reached out her hand to help him. “Please allow me to help you, Windhawk.”

He pushed her away and stood up. If he was in pain, it didn’t show on his face. Was he too proud to accept help from her? she wondered.

“Windhawk, please, I…”

He silenced her with a dark gaze, then looked at the makeshift shelter, searching for Farley. “Where is the old man?” he asked, retrieving his knife from the dead cat and cleaning the blood from it by plunging it into the snow.

Before Joanna could answer him, Farley raised up on his elbow and poked his head out of the shelter. “What’s happened?” he asked, looking at the dead panther which was sprawled out on the snow-covered ground.

Windhawk walked slowly toward Farley. “Tonight you die, white man.”

Joanna was stunned as she looked from one man’s face to the other. Surely Windhawk hadn’t meant that he was going to kill Farley!

“I figured as much, Windhawk,” Farley said, lying back already resigned to his fate.

Joanna realized that it was Windhawk’s intention to slay Farley and she wasn’t about to stand helplessly by while he killed the old trapper. Without thinking, she ran to the second rifle and picked it up, aiming it at Windhawk. “If you go near Farley, I will shoot, Windhawk; I swear I will,” she challenged.

Windhawk turned to face her, feeling she had chosen the old man over him. He saw the determined look on her face and knew she wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger if he were to harm the old man. Had she no feeling for what had passed between them?

His eyes narrowed and he felt wild unleashed fury. In his heart he had once believed Joanna had loved him but he now knew she had only been pretending. He did not feel the cold that seeped into his body, nor could he feel the pain from the deep gash where the cat had mauled him. He felt only betrayal, and a strong need for revenge.

Joanna prayed that Windhawk wouldn’t force her to shoot. How could she destroy that which she loved most in the world? She watched as he raised his proud head. His eyes were cold as he stared at her.

“Don’t make me do it,” she pleaded. “Just go away and leave us alone.”

Windhawk had no thought for his safety. If Joanna shot him it would end the torment he was feeling. He took one step toward her, then another.

The rifle swung wide and then the barrel leveled at his chest. “Don’t test me, Windhawk,” she said, feeling as if she were being forced into a corner.

He advanced on her, never taking his eyes from her face. Those dark eyes challenged her to pull the trigger.

Joanna closed her eyes, her hand trembled and her heart cried out at what she was being forced to do. A loud sob escaped her lips and she knew in that moment that she would never be able to shoot Windhawk.

He suddenly lunged at Joanna and knocked her off balance. She fell backwards and Windhawk fell on top of her. The impact made the rifle discharge and the shot fired harmlessly into the air.

Windhawk sat up, straddling her. He wrenched the gun from her hand and threw it aside. “You should never have hesitated, Jo-anna. There will be many times for you to regret that you did not kill me when you had the chance,” he said in a harsh whisper.

His eyes were so cold and unfeeling that it sent a shiver down the back of Joanna’s neck. She had once seen those dark eyes softened by love, but there was no evidence of tenderness in the ebony depths at the moment.

Joanna closed her eyes when she saw him draw back his hand. Windhawk struck her hard, catching her firmly on the jaw. Pain exploded in her head and darkness engulfed her.

Windhawk picked her up in his arms and carried her to the shelter where he laid her down beside the old man. As he bound her arms and legs with leather ropes, tears blinded his vision. His anger had caused him to hurt her. He touched her face where he had struck her and saw that it had already started turning blue in color. He had never before struck a woman. This woman was white, he thought, trying to vindicate himself. She had taken the love he had offered her, replacing it with treachery and deceit.

Never again would he allow her to touch his heart. He would take her back to his village, and she would be treated as any captive who had been taken in battle.

Windhawk glanced at the old man and noticed that blood had seeped through the cloth which was wrapped about his ankle. With a sweeping glance he saw the white man’s trap and knew immediately what had happened. He smiled, thinking the old man had been caught in a trap which had been set by his own kind. Windhawk had not yet decided the old man’s fate. The sleepless nights and long days he had endured trying to catch up with Joanna had taken their toll. He was much too weary to think.

He stood up, feeling the pain of his wounds. Removing his shredded buckskin shirt, he took a handful of snow and rubbed it over the wound. The gash was deep and ran across his shoulder and down his arm. He gritted his teeth in agony when he pulled a clean buckskin shirt on and it rubbed against his wound. The pain from his injury did not hurt him as much as the anguish that Joanna had caused him.

Piling a stack of wood on the fire, he watched the hungry flames lick at the wood and burst into a warm blaze.

Tomorrow they would start for his home, he thought, and he pitied Joanna if she caused him the least bit of trouble. His expression was grim as he pulled a warm blanket over her.

He lay down beside her, hoping he would find forgetfulness
in sleep. He watched the firelight flicker across Joanna’s face, and fell asleep.

Joanna opened her eyes. The bright sunlight reflected off the snow, blinding her for the moment. She tried to sit up, but found to her dismay that Windhawk had bound her arms and legs with ropes and she couldn’t move.

She glanced around, trying to locate Windhawk and Farley, but neither of them were about. Her jaw felt sore and she remembered Windhawk striking her the night before. She was Windhawk’s captive now. Her bid for freedom had ended in disaster.

Joanna realized that it had stopped snowing, but the cold wind prevented the snow from melting. She was acutely aware of the heaviness in her heart. It had been apparent to her last night that Windhawk detested her. Where had his love gone? She still loved him, in fact, her love seemed deeper than it had before.

She thought about him standing between her and the panther last night. He had risked his life to save her. She remembered he had been injured, and wondered how badly.

Where was Farley? Had Windhawk harmed him? She struggled against the ropes trying to get loose. The more she struggled, the tighter the bonds became, cutting off her circulation. She had been so intent on trying to remove the ropes that she hadn’t heard Farley come up beside her.

“It won’t do no good trying to get loose, Joanna. Windhawk ain’t never gonna let neither one of us go.”

She quickly looked at his ankle and saw that it had been freshly bound. “Is your ankle very painful, Farley?”

“It don’t feel none too good, but I’m glad there ain’t no broken bones. Windhawk put a fresh dressing on it. I didn’t figure on him helping me none, but you can’t never tell ’bout him.”

Joanna’s eyes moved toward the woods searchingly. “Where is Windhawk?”

“He’s getting the horses ready.” Farley looked at Joanna. “I reckon you saved my life last night.”

“I couldn’t allow him to harm you, Farley.”

He saw the pain in her eyes. “I don’t know if you did me a favor or not. That’ll depend on what his plans are for me.”

Joanna sighed. Her life hadn’t been hers to control for a long time. Once again the future looked bleak and uncertain. She had no idea what Windhawk had in mind for either her or Farley. Last night she had tested him to the limit. She knew he would never believe that she could not have pulled that trigger. She knew there wasn’t any point in discussing it with him. He was in no mood to listen to anything she had to say.

Windhawk walked toward Joanna, leading the horses. His eyes were cold as he tossed a piece of pemmican at her and it landed in her lap. He spoke no words to her as he stood over her waiting for her to eat.

Joanna swallowed a lump of fear as his dark eyes narrowed. She didn’t want the food and knew it would stick in her throat, but the look Windhawk gave her told her that if she didn’t eat, he would cram the food down her. Her teeth tore into the meat, and she chewed, then swallowed without tasting.

When Windhawk was satisfied that she had eaten enough, he handed her the reins of her horse. Joanna noticed he had exchanged the buckskin shirt which the panther had shredded for another one. She wanted to ask if he was hurt, but his dark gaze did not encourage conversation.

Farley limped around, packing the blankets and cooking utensils. Joanna would have helped him but Windhawk stalled her. She stood motionless as he unbound her legs and swung her onto her horse.

When Windhawk mounted, Joanna and Farley looked at each other in surprise. Was he allowing Farley to go free? Joanna wondered. Her relief was overwhelming as she realized that was exactly what he was doing.

Windhawk paused beside the old trapper and looked down at him. “Colder weather is coming on, old man,” he said, speaking in the Blackfoot language. “I do not think you will last past the first few days.”

“I reckon it’s a fer piece to walk to the first white outpost,” Farley agreed in English.

Joanna watched as Windhawk swung his mount away. “I will kill you the next time I see you, old man,” he said, grabbing hold of Joanna’s horse’s reins.

“You can’t just leave him here to die,” Joanna pleaded when she saw it was Windhawk’s intention to take Farley’s horses, leaving him afoot.

Windhawk paid no heed to Joanna’s pleading. He jerked on her horse’s reins, pulling her forward, and she had to grab on to the horse’s mane to keep from falling off. When they rode away Joanna turned to look back at Farley. He looked so forlorn standing there alone. She wanted to protest, but she knew her pleas would fall on deaf ears.

The leather rope cut into her wrists and she squeezed her eyes tightly together, trying not to cry. She had tested fate by trying to escape, but fate had accepted her challenge and she was now the loser.

Her eyes rested on Windhawk’s broad back. He held his head so straight and proud, and her heart went out to him.

This was a Windhawk she didn’t know. He was hard, cold and unforgiving. He would not bend. Emotions would never rule this man: He would always be in control.

Had she killed his love for her? She knew instinctively that he would not be a forgiving man.

The vast wilderness stretched before them. The snow was beginning to melt, causing a slushing sound beneath their horses’ hooves. Joanna turned to look back where they had left Farley, but he had already been swallowed up by the thick pine forest.

Where was her spirit? she wondered. She should insist that Windhawk turn around and go back for Farley. Why did she not fight him? Because, she answered herself, you love him and want to be with him under any circumstances.

Joanna now knew that had she reached civilization, she would never have been free. Her heart would always have been the prisoner of the tall proud chief of the Blood Blackfoot tribe.

By nightfall Windhawk halted his horse and dismounted. He reached for Joanna and pulled her roughly from her horse. Picking her up in his arms, he carried her to the river and tied her to a nearby tree. He hadn’t spoken to her all day and even now, he refused to look at her.