Sweet Sarah Ross. Julie Tetel

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СКАЧАТЬ has…escaped, you are only…exposing yourself…to capture…by the Sioux. Might still be around. Probably are.”

      The Sioux. She had a hazy recollection of hearing something about them in Independence. “The Sioux are hostile?”

      His grunt confirmed the worst. He had apparently finished with his feet, but didn’t rise. Instead she heard him settle against the trunk of the tree behind her. She cast a curious, cautious glance over her shoulder and saw that he had positioned himself out of her line of sight. She could see only one corner of his shoulder and an arm bent at the elbow. The hand had disappeared and was no doubt resting against his invisible hip. She supposed she should be thankful for his delicacy, whether or not it had been intended.

      He added with great weariness, as if to himself, “No sense killing yourself…unless you’ve a mind to die.”

      She slid down the trunk and sat at the base of her tree. So. Here she was in a clump of trees in the middle of nowhere, not more than a foot away from a naked man-beast, and possibly surrounded by Sioux. Anger and outrage and helplessness overcame her. Seizing on the most immediate injustice, she began on a harsh whisper, “Why, sir, did you—”

      The absurdity of calling him “sir” stopped her midsentence. She began again, this time very deliberately. “Why, sir, did you rip my shawl and bind your feet when the material could have been put to much better use?”

      “My bloody feet,” he replied with labored breath, “are blazing…a trail.”

      “For the Sioux to follow, you mean?”

      “For prairie wolves, too. Can smell blood…and a festering wound…a mile away.”

      Prairie wolves sounded worrisome, but she decided to take her worries one at a time. “If the Sioux are following you, why did they fall upon our peaceful wagon train?”

      His reply came after a lengthy pause. “I’m guessing…they think…I found refuge…in your party.”

      “It’s because of you, then, that our wagon train was attacked?”

      “Pioneers travel…at their own risk.”

      The callousness of that remark caused her to raise her voice above a whisper. “So if my family lies dead yonder, I’m not to blame you?” she snapped back.

      “Some of your wagons…must have gotten away. The Sioux have not…been able to count me…among the dead.”

      “What do you mean?”

      “They’re not looking…for me…here. Not yet Which means…they might be trailing…wagons that got away.”

      It was a glimmer of hope for her family but not much more. “Why do they want you dead?”

      “I was on their land. Took me prisoner. Got away. Were going to kill me any way…but now their desire…has doubled. Honor at stake.”

      “How did you get away?”

      “Old tribal dispute. Sioux warriors took off…like somebody set…breechclouts afire. Left me with the squaws.”

      “That was lucky.”

      The frail sound that came from his throat was a brittle ghost of a laugh. “Sioux squaws no bargain. Take to torturing with pleasure. Warriors rode off…with all the ponies in camp. I cut loose…started to run.”

      “You ran? Just like that?”

      He drew a deep breath, seemed to strangle on a dry cough. “The squaws came close to catching me…with my hands tied and all. My legs are longer. Knew what would happen…if they caught me.”

      As intrigued as she was by the notion of Sioux squaw bloodlust, she didn’t think the sound of the war whoops she had heard had come from women, and she said as much.

      “When warriors returned…they took after me, too. By that time…I had gotten my hands free…and was far enough off…to keep ahead of them.”

      “You’ve been running all day?”

      He didn’t answer for a long time. Then, as if from far off, came the answer, “All day…and day before. All night, too. I’ve covered…maybe fifty miles…barefoot.”

      She reassessed the gravity of his physical condition and wondered if he’d survive the night.

      “I’m mortal thirsty. The river tempts me…but I’ll not risk an arrow through my heart…after all I’ve done…to stay alive.”

      “You didn’t drink when you, were running through the river?”

      “Didn’t want to waste time…. Stuck my tongue out and caught what drops I could…splashing along.”

      “But that’s nonsensical to run through water and come out of it dying of thirst!”

      “I chose the water route…to lose my scent. Not to drink.”

      “I suppose you’ve learned your lesson now,” she said primly, trying not to feel sorry for him, since he was the immediate cause of her misfortune.

      “You could…fetch me water. It might be…worth the risk…to be rid…of your fool conversation…for a few minutes…or forever.”

      She gasped at the insult and thought it mighty cheeky of a man-beast on his last legs who, now that she came to think of it, might just have to depend on her for survival—that is, if she was of a mind to help him survive, which, at the moment, she was not.

      “And if you’re thinking…of leaving me…to my own devices…I’ll ask you…two questions.”

      Since she was thinking just that, she swerved her head and found herself looking into a pair of blue eyes no longer glazed, but still rimed with red and shot with blood.

      “Can you…kill and skin…a rabbit?”

      “No, but—”

      “And do you know…how to start a fire…with two sticks?”

      “Well, I’ve never had occasion to try, but how hard could—”

      “Then the scissors…in the bag…you’re wearing…just might save…the both of us.”

      Surprised, she stared openmouthed at him until she recalled that when he had pressed her to him, he must have felt against his bare thigh the small metal shape in the reticule hanging from her waist. She flushed with embarrassment at the thought of that intimate contact, then turned back around. There was absolutely nothing to say to that, so she resolutely closed her mouth, until it occurred to her that his objective had been to shut her up. But when she opened her mouth again, no words came. So she sat there, speechless, her thoughts colliding so violently and her emotions roiling so precipitously that she was beginning to feel seasick.

      The sun shifted. The shadows lengthened in the minuscule glade. The man-beast didn’t move from his seated position at the base of the tree. He might have dozed off. He might have died. Her first thought was that it would serve him right. СКАЧАТЬ