Two Alone (8 page)

that
had made his whole life a joke.

Traditionally, he despised women like Rusty Carlson. He had
no
use for wealthy, sill
y
, superficial society broads who'd been
born
with silver spoons in their mouths. They didn't know, or
wan
t to know, about anything outside their gilded cages. Wasn't n just his luck to draw one who had earned his grudging respect
by
hearing up under the worst of circumstances?

Bu
t
even that wasn't enough for the malicious gods. She could have been a silly society broad who wouldn't have given a warthog any competition in the looks department. She could have had a voice that would shatter glass.

Instead, the fates had forced on him a woman who looked like a dream. Surely the devil had designed her. Temptation incarnate. With cinnamon-colored hair a man could wrap himsel
f
in and nipples that looked so sweet they must taste like candy. Her voice would melt butter. That's what he thought about every time she spoke.

What a cruel joke. Because he would not touch her. Never. He'd been down that road. Women like her followed vogue. Not only in clothes; in everything. When he'd met Melody it had been fashionable to love a veteran. She had, until it became convenient not to.

Scratch the silky surface of Rusty Carlson and you'd find another Melody. Rusty was only sucking up to him now because she depended on him for her survival. She looked like a tasty morsel, but inside she was probably as rotten and devious as Melody had been.

Slinging the rabbit pelts over his shoulder and folding the meat in a cloth, he headed back toward their camp. She wasn't going to get to him. He couldn't afford to start feeling soft toward her. Last night he'd let her cry because he felt that she deserved one good, cleansing cry. But no more. He'd held her during the night because it was necessary for them to keep warm. But he would keep his distance from now on. Once the shelter was built, they wouldn't have to sleep together like that. He wouldn't have to endure any more nights with her curled against his front and her bottom cushioning his involuntary reaction to her.

Stop thinking about it, he told himself. Forget how smooth her belly felt beneath your hand. Fo
rget the shape of her breasts an
d the color of the hair between her thighs.

Groaning, he thrashed through the woods, viciously deter-
min
ed to keep his thoughts on track. As soon as he built the
shel
ter, such close proximity wouldn't be necessary. He would
ke
ep
his eyes and his hands— The piercing scream brought him up short. If he'd walked into an invisible
wall, he couldn't have stopped m
ore abruptly. When Rusty's next s
cream rent the stillness, he instin
ctively slipped into the role of jungle fighter as easily as well
-greas
ed gears fitting into their notches. Silen
tl
y, he slithered through trees in the direction of her scream, knife drawn and teeth bared.

"Who,..who are you?" Rusty's hand was gripping her own
th
roat, where her pulse was beating wildly.

The man's bearded face split into a wide grin. He turned his
h
ead and said, "Hey, Pa,
she
wants to know who
I
am." Chuckling, another man, an older version of the first, stepped
o
ut from between the trees. The two gaped at Rusty. Both had
s
mall,
dark eyes embedded in deep sockets.

"We could ask you the same question," the older one said. Who are you, little girl?"

"I..
.
I
..I survived the airplane crash.'" They gazed back at her
wi
th perplexity. "You didn't know about the crash?"

"Can't say that we did."

She pointed with a shaking finger. "Back there. Two days
a
go. Five men were killed. My leg was injured." She indicated e crutches.

"Any more women?"

Before she could answer, Cooper lunged up behind
t
h
e
older of
t
he two men and laid the gleaming blade of his knife
against
the whiskered throat. He grasped the man's arm, twisted it behind him and shoved his hand up between his shoulder blades. The man's hunting rifle clattered to the ground at his feet.

"Move away from her or I'll kill him," he said to the stunned
y
ounger man.

He was staring at Cooper as
t
hough he were Satan himself, who had sprung up out of the ground straight from hell. Even Rusty was quelled by the evil threat in Cooper's eyes. But she was trembling with relief to see him.

"I said to move away from her." Cooper's voice seemed as deadly as his knife. It was void of inflection, emotionless. The younger man Cook two exaggerated steps away from Rusty. "Now, drop the rifle," Cooper told him.

Since it appeared that the a
t
tacker was human after all, the younger man's face puckered with rebellion. He whined, "Pa, do
I
have to do—"

"Do as he says, Reuben."

Reluctantly
t
he younger man tossed down his hunting rifle.
C
ooper kicked
th
e two rifles now on the ground out of reach and
gradually
released his stranglehold on the man. He stepped
around
him and stood beside Rusty, facing the two. "Rusty?" She jumped. "Are you okay?"

"
Fine.
"

"
Di
d
t
he
y
hurt you?"

"
They
s
car
ed me, that's all. I don't think they meant to."

Cooper didn't take his eyes off the two men, but regarded them warily. "Who are you?"

His bark carried more authority than Rusty's feeble question.
T
he older man answered him at once. "Quinn Gawrylow and my son, Reuben. We live here." Cooper didn't even blink. The man went on. "Across the deep ravine." He hitched his chin in
t
ha
t
direction.

Cooper had discovered the ravine the day before. The stream where he'd been getting water lay at the bottom of it. He hadn't
cro
ssed it to explore because he hadn't wanted to leave Rusty alone that long. He thanked God now that he hadn't. These men might be perfectly harmless. Then again, they might not be. His
su
spicious
nature had served him well on more than one
occ
asion. Until they proved to be otherwise, he
'd
consider this duo the enemy. They hadn't done anything harmful so far, but h
e
didn
't like the way the younger one was staring at Rusty as
thou
gh
she were a celestial vision.

What brought you across the ravine?" Cooper asked.

"
We smelled your wood smoke last night and this morning
ca
me to investigate. We don't usually see other people in our
w
oods."

"Our plane crashed."

T
hat's what the young lady said." She
'd
been elevated from a little girl to a young lady. Rusty
silent
ly thanked Cooper for that. She, too, was unnerved by the
you
nger man's stare and inched closer to Cooper, taking shelter
beh
ind his arm. "How far are we from the nearest town?" she asked. A hundred miles." Her hopes plummeted. The man obvi
ou
sly
noticed. "But
t
he river isn't
t
oo far."

"The Mackenzie?"

"Right. If you reach that before it freezes closed, you'll catch a boat on its way down to Yellowknife."

"How far to the river?" Cooper asked. The man scratched his head beneath his wool stocking cap. "Ten, fifteen miles, wouldn't you say, Reuben?"

The younger man bobbed his head, never taking his lustful eyes off Rusty. Cooper squinted at him, his stare malevolent and dangerous. "Could you direct us to the river?"

"Yes," the elder Gawrylow said. "Tomorrow. Today we'll feed you. Let you rest up." He glanced down at the fresh meat Cooper had dropped. "Would you like to follow us to our cabin?"

Rusty glanced up at Cooper expectantly. His face remained a mask as he studied the two men cautiously. At last he said, "Thanks. Rusty could use the food and rest before we strike out. You go on ahead." Using his rifle, he pointed them toward their camp.

The two men bent to pick up their rifles. Rusty felt Cooper's muscles tense with precaution. But the father and son shouldered their rifles and turned in the direction Cooper had indicated. Cooper glanced down at her and spoke from the side of his mouth. "Stay close. Where's the knife
1
gave you?" "I left it behind when I went—" "Keep it with you." "What's the matter with you?" "Nothing."

"You don't act very glad to see them. I'm delighted. They can lead us out of here."

His only comment was a thin-lipped "Yeah." The Gawrylows were impressed with Cooper's improvisations. They helped gather up the pelts and the belongings
Co
oper
and Rusty had salvaged from the crash. Nothing in the wilderness was ever wasted. Reuben kicked stones into the fire
to
make certain it was out.

The ba
n
d, under Quinn's guidance, with his son following
c
losely, set out for their cabin. Cooper brought up the rear so
h
e could keep an eye on both Gawrylows and on Rusty, who
was
making admirable if awkward progress on her crutches.

The men seemed
t
o be well-meaning, bur Cooper had learned
t
he hard way never to trust anyone. He'd seen too
ma
ny soldiers blown to bits by hand grenades handed to them
by
smiling children.

At the stream they paused
t
o rest. Rusty's lungs felt as though
co
llapse were imminent; her hea
rt was beating double time; and
the crutches were chafing her
armpits, even though Cooper had
tried to prevent that by padding the tops of them with articles
of
extra clo
t
hing.

"
H
ow are you doing?" he asked her, uncapping the thermos
and
passing it to her.

"
F
ine." She forced a smile.

"
D
o
e
s your leg hurt?"

"No, i
t
just feels like it weighs a ton."

"Ii can't be much farther. Then you can lie down for the rest
of t
he day."

T
he Gawrylows waited patiently nearby until she had lined her breath and was ready to start again. "We'll cross at
the
easiest point," the elder one informed Cooper.

I hey walked along the streambed for several hundred yards, my other time, Rusty would have been entranced with the landscape. The stream was crystal clear. It gurgled over rocks that had been polished as smooth as mirrors by the gallons of water that had rushed across them. Towering trees interlaced and formed canopies overhead. The evergreens were so deeply green that they appeared blue. The leaves of the deciduous trees ranged from vivid red to vibrant yellow. Encroaching winter had already caused many leaves to fall. They provided a crunchy carpet beneath their feet.

Rusty's chest was burning with exertion by the time the Gawrylows drew to a halt. She laid her crutches on the ground and gratefully sank down onto a rock beside the stream, which ran shallow at this point. The side of the ravine rising up on the other side of the brook looked as high as the Himalayas.

"This is it," Quinn said. "I'll lead the way. Reuben can carry the woman. You can bring your gear."

"Reuben can bring
t
he gear. I'll carry the woman," Cooper amended in a steely voice.

The older man shrugged and ordered his son to take the bundles from Cooper. Reuben did so, but not without shooting Cooper a sour look. Cooper stared back at him unmoved. He didn't care whether Reuben liked it or not; he wasn't going to let those grubby hands get anywhere near Rusty.