Yellowstone Heart Song (Yellowstone Romance Series Book 1) (5 page)

An hour later, Daniel had detoured around the edge of the canyon, and they reached the banks of the Gibbon River below the falls. Aimee was aware that he kept mostly to the meandering riverbank with its softer loamy earth. He had picked out the smoothest path possible, no doubt for her comfort. Guilt enveloped her. He showed no sign of slowing his pace the entire morning. He definitely had endurance.

Daniel seemed unconcerned when they passed close by a group of bison, while she gripped the poles of the travois until her knuckles turned white. She eyed the massive creatures nervously. A few of the beasts raised their heads from cropping at the lush grasses and watched them pass. Their eyes seemed to stare directly at her, and the hair at the back of her neck stood on end.

Quit being ridiculous! They’re not giving you the evil eye. They’re just curious. 

Only when they had moved a safe distance away did she breathe easier. She observed more bison, and a large number of elk in the distance as the day wore on. Hawks lazily circled the cloudless deep blue sky in search of an unsuspecting meal. The scenery was magnificent. She savored the crisp, clean air, catching the occasional scent of sulfur carried on the breeze, a reminder of the geothermal wonders of this area. The only sounds came from insects in the tall grass, birds in the distance, the occasional warning call of a ground squirrel, and the scraping of the travois poles on the ground. There was just no better place on earth.

By mid-day, Daniel stopped suddenly. He gently set the poles down, and Aimee raised her head and glanced around.

“Drink some water,” he ordered, and handed her his water bag. He removed some meat from his pouch and wordlessly offered it to her. She reached for the food, gritting her teeth at the pain that rushed through her arm at the slight movement. There wasn’t an inch of her body that didn’t ache. If only she had taken some ibuprofen before they started on their journey. She opened her backpack, discreetly took out the medicine bottle, and swallowed a couple of pills. Daniel didn’t sit down to rest. He stood off to the side, constantly scanning their surroundings.

“I would like to stretch my legs for a minute,” she called, and hoisted herself up with her walking stick. Once the dizziness subsided, she hobbled around awkwardly. She arched her back, her hands on her hips. Then she bent forward to touch her toes in an effort to stretch the tight muscles in her legs and back. Hobbling around for a few minutes, she waited for Daniel to say something. He cast odd looks her way, and Aimee wondered what he must be thinking. The prolonged silence was unnerving. Conversation had always come naturally to her, but Daniel was apparently the silent type.

“How much further is it to your cabin?” she finally asked.

He didn’t answer immediately. She’d almost given up on a response, when he said, “we will be there before the sun sets.”

“It’s really nice of you to take me with you.” She wished she could engage him in a little more talk than the few curt words he spoke to her. Watching him pick up the travois and head toward the river, she asked, “don’t you want me to get on that thing first?”

“We need to cross the river,” he replied without looking at her, as if that explained everything. “Stay where you are,” he commanded almost as an afterthought while he hoisted the travois over his head and waded into the water.

“Okay, I’ll wait here,” she mumbled and shrugged, feeling completely useless.

Daniel deposited the contraption on the opposite bank and made his way back. Wordlessly he strode up to her and, in one swift motion, bent and scooped her in his arms.

“Whoa!” Purely by reflex, her arms flew around his neck to hold on. Oh man, his face was way too close. A sheen of perspiration clung to the growing shadow above his upper lip. Her eyes locked onto the penetrating stare that came from underneath his dark lashes, and the unruly hair that fell forward over his eyes. Her heart hammered against her ribs. Awareness of his arms of steel, rock solid chest, and pure rugged maleness seeped into her body. Daniel’s face remained hard and unreadable as he waded through the river a third time.

“Please don’t drop me,” she teased. She tried to ease the tension, and at the same time ignore her wildly galloping heart. Daniel didn’t seem to think her comment was funny. His eyebrows furrowed into a dark scowl. The slight twitch of his upper lip reminded her of a wolf, ready to bare its teeth and strike, and she wished she could take her words back. Twice today she’d observed this savage, almost hateful look, and she wondered why he held such animosity toward her.

Safely on the other side of the river, Daniel placed her on the travois, picked up the ends of the poles, and silently continued at his brisk pace.

Chapter 4

It was late afternoon or early evening when the area they were in took on a familiar feel. Aimee turned slightly on the travois to look in the direction of travel. The valley that widened before her was all too familiar. Straight-walled mountains framed a meadow on the south side, and sloping wooded hills rose to the north. The river they had been following made a sweeping bend before another river, which seemed to flow straight out of the mountains from the south, joined this one. Together, they merged into one wide body of water that continued to flow west.

“The Madison!” she blurted out loud. Daniel turned his head and shot her a puzzled look.
Idiot!
Aimee kicked herself mentally.
I shouldn’t know this
. Lewis and Clark had named this river in 1805, but much further to the north of here, not at its origin in this little valley. Their expedition hadn’t come through the Yellowstone area. But Zach had also called it the Madison, so the name must have been widely used early on.

“Oh, look. Is that your cabin over there?” She awkwardly tried to cover up her slip. A log structure came into view around the bend in the river, nestled amongst some sheltering pines. The landscape looked familiar, but in her time there were fewer trees on the hillside to the north, and the worn path along the river’s edge, created by thousands of tourists each summer, was also absent. It appeared so much more beautiful now, in its wild and undamaged state.

Daniel lowered the travois poles in front of the cabin, and she hoisted herself from the ground with her stick. She stretched her stiff muscles. Would her body ever stop aching?  Daniel quickly surveyed the area, then he checked inside the cabin before he waved his hand for her to enter. Whatever he’d been looking for must have satisfied him.

Aimee had no idea what to expect. What did the inside of a trapper’s cabin look like? Curious, she hobbled through the door into the dark interior. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim light. She scanned the single room. There was a rough wooden table in the center. Two logs split down their middle on either side of the table made up two benches. There were two bunks along opposite walls, each piled high with various animal furs and wool blankets. The back wall held a massive stone fireplace and hearth, and some shelves had been hung that contained tin plates, cups, wooden bowls, and various other containers.  Two pairs of snowshoes, a hunting bow and quiver full of arrows, and several metal contraptions with chains that she guessed were steel traps hung on the walls. The entire cabin projected the man who lived in it – wild and rustic, without any frills. 

“You can sleep here,” Daniel said, and pointed to the bunk on the left. She hobbled over to the bed and deposited her backpack on it.

“I hope this isn’t too much trouble for you, having me here,” she apologized.

Daniel knelt in front of the hearth, gathered kindling from the wood box into a small pile, and struck his knife against a flint he produced from the pouch around his neck.  Sparks erupted almost immediately, and Daniel blew air on the small flame, then added larger pieces of wood to feed the growing fire. Aimee had never seen anyone produce a campfire with such speed and efficiency. Of course he didn’t reply to her comment.

“I won’t be a bother to you, I promise,” she tried again. “My foot should be better in a couple of days, and . . . I’ll leave then.” If he sent her away, she’d have to manage somehow on her own until Zach came for her. The thought sent chills of dread down her spine.

Daniel turned to look at her as if considering her statement. “You lost your way in the woods already.”

“Not all who wander are lost.” She couldn’t help herself from quoting one of her favorite authors.

Daniel’s eyebrows drew together. “Where do you plan to go? There are no people other than the Tukudeka and some Siksiska in this area.”

“Some who and what?”

“The Tukudeka - the Sheep Eaters - and the Siksiska - the Blackfoot,” Daniel explained. He stared at her again with those intense brown eyes.

“Where did you come from?” His non-wavering stare seemed to burn a hole right through her.

There it was! Aimee expected the question. Unfortunately, she hadn’t come up with any kind of believable story yet. Zach had been adamant that no one, including his son, could find out where she really came from.

“I sort of dropped into the area.” She shrugged, knowing how crazy she sounded. “I’m actually from Ca…New York.”

Daniel’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s a city in the east. How does a white woman travel this far, alone in the wilderness?”

Wow, he’s actually talking. Wrong topic, though.

Struggling to remember any of her early American history, she answered, “Well, I always wanted to see things beyond New York. I . . . I hooked up with some settlers down the Ohio River to St. Louis. One thing led to another and somehow I ended up here.” She shrugged again, and averted her eyes. The lie sounded stupid even as she said it.

“There are no white people within a thousand miles from here. Who are you running from?”

“I’m not . . .” She stopped herself and inhaled deeply. “Okay. I left a fiancé back home. I just needed to get away.”

Oh man, these half-truths were really hard. Aimee knew how utterly impossible it was for a white woman to be in these mountains in this day and age, especially alone, but she couldn’t think of one good scenario that was believable. She hoped her vague answer would satisfy him. It wasn’t a complete lie. She had been looking for a way to get away from Brad. Just days before meeting Zach, she had broken her engagement. He hadn’t taken it well. Brad never took “no” for an answer well. That was the problem.

“I don’t know this word . . . fiancé.” Daniel’s resonating voice pulled her thoughts back to the here and now.

“Um . . . my intended, betrothed, the man I was gonna marry,” Aimee explained.

Daniel’s face darkened, and his body tensed.  “Surely he is looking for you.”

“I don’t think so,” Aimee said confidently. “He has no idea where I am.”

“Who brought you this far from St. Louis?” 

“N . . . no one,” Aimee stammered. Damn! This wasn’t going well. “I mean, I got separated from some people I was traveling with a few weeks ago.” Okay. Lie number two. The vulnerability of her position occurred to her again.

Why did I agree to do this? Because you thought it was just some silly joke! 

Daniel’s accusing stare sent chills up her spine. She let out the breath she’d been holding after he turned his back to her to finish building the fire. When a sizeable blaze crackled in the hearth, he stood and headed for the door.

“Perhaps you’ll tell me the truth later.” He shot one final look of contempt her way, then abruptly left the cabin. 

**** 

Daniel sat by his campfire, staring across the river.  The sun cast a golden glow around the mountains that framed the valley. He needed to clear his head. He had expected Aimee to have a husband, but hearing her confirm it left him with an unsettled feeling in his gut. Someone promised in marriage, in his mind, was the same as being married. It gave him an odd feeling he couldn’t explain. Why should it matter to him? The sooner he was rid of her, the better. This woman evoked a jumble of mixed reactions in him, leaving him agitated and confused. He was always in control of his emotions, whether he confronted an enemy, faced a predatory animal, or in the presence of a woman.

His mind recalled the events of the day, and this woman’s odd behavior. He’d observed in perplexed fascination when she’d stretched her sore body.  Those postures had only brought more awareness to her womanly curves. The entire morning, his thoughts had been on nothing but her shapely exposed legs, and the fragrant scent of the soap she had used on her face and hair had played havoc with his senses. She seemed completely unaware of what she was doing to him. Her actions irritated and bewildered him. No decent woman behaved in such a manner, and definitely not alone in front of a man.

Her radiant smiles had left him mesmerized, while her sparkling blue eyes reminded him of some of the azure hot water pools he frequently encountered. He’d stood and watched, consumed by her loveliness. Visions danced before his eyes of a beaver lured by the enticing scent on one of his traps. The beaver struggled to break free as the trap snapped shut. Except in these visions, he was the beaver, and this little slip of a woman was the trap. In his mind’s eye, the face of the enticing female he’d found morphed into another fair skinned woman’s face, one he hadn’t thought about in years. One he had never wanted to think about again.

Daniel threw more wood on his campfire. He had expected this little woman to demand more time to rest. Riding on the travois couldn’t have been comfortable, yet she had uttered no words of complaint. He’d concealed his surprise earlier in the day when she told him she’d try to keep up, as if he expected her to walk on her injured foot. She sure had grit, he had to give her that, especially for such a little thing.
Especially for a white woman!

Admittedly, she fascinated him. She had shown amazing strength and resilience so far. The way his body reacted to her when he touched her evoked foreign feelings in him. The memory of her arms wrapped around his neck, and the way she clung to him when he carried her through the river sent a fresh wave of desire through him.  Good thing she hadn’t been able to see the evidence of his body’s reaction to her at the time.

Images of another white woman crept into his mind. Outwardly, the only thing Aimee and Emma shared in common was their fair skin - enough of a reminder of the hurt and betrayal he had suffered so many years ago. Daniel learned from his mistakes. He never made the same ones twice. His survival here in this harsh and unforgiving land depended on it.

Why did she lie to him? 
She is a white woman. They all lie!
What a ridiculous story! A woman did not travel alone from New York to this wild land. Impossible.  It was a difficult enough journey to travel from St. Louis up the Missouri, then south along the
E-chee-dick-karsh-ah-shay
- the Elk River to the Sheep Eater band of Shoshoni, and he’d also heard it called the River of Yellow Rocks by other tribes and French trappers. Not many men were hardy enough to make the journey. She had to have run away from her man somewhere nearby. Elk Runner would have some answers for him in a few days. If not, he might have to go in search of her man. But could he return Aimee to a man from whom she felt the need to run away? She was not his to keep if her man showed up, regardless of whether she wanted to go back to him or not.

Stop thinking about this! This woman is nothing to you
. Clenching his jaw, he strode back into his cabin. Aimee sat on the bed, and unwrapped the bandage from her foot. Her head popped up, and her eyes met his with an expectant look. Daniel lit a lantern on the table to give her more light to see by. He removed his traveling pouch and hung it on a peg on the wall next to the door. He removed the leftover meat from his pouch, and placed some on a tin plate, which he set on the table along with his water bag. Grabbing a buffalo robe off the other bunk, he left the cabin again with the rest of the meat.

****

Aimee’s gaze lingered on the closed door. She didn’t know what to think of Daniel. He wasn’t anything like what she had expected. Then again, she really hadn’t given it much thought before - maybe a younger version of friendly Zach Osborne, but certainly not this dark and intimidating, yet absolutely gorgeous woodsman. One moment, he did things that were kind and thoughtful, the next he gave her looks of complete contempt and even hatred.

She bit off a piece of meat, and chewed it like gum to soften it. She took up her crutch and hobbled outside. The last of the sunlight disappeared into the western horizon, and the clear twilight sky produced millions of twinkling stars. She rubbed at the goose bumps on her arms while she absorbed the tranquil scene. The rippling sounds of flowing water from the Madison mixed with mournful calls of loons seeking out their mates. The eerie howl of a lone wolf resonated off the mountains. Moments later, the high-pitched barking of several coyotes in the distance advertised they had made a kill.

She barely made out Daniel’s silhouette sitting on the ground some distance away from the cabin. He had built a fire, over which hung a kettle on a metal tripod.
Just like camping
. A wistful sigh escaped her lips. If he noticed her, he didn’t acknowledge it. She hobbled a short distance into the trees behind the cabin to relieve herself.