Blind Fury (9 page)

“First aid kit, waterproof matches, space blanket.” She checked space blanket off the list. “We should carry two of these. In this kind of weather one wouldn't be enough.”

“Good thinking.” He put the hammer away and came over to stand beside her. “What about a signal mirror?”

“I thought we'd use Ryan's. If we don't use something from his bag, we'll hurt his feelings.”

“Safety pins, canteen, knife, flashlight, bouillon cubes, salt . . .” He shuffled things around. “Looks like everything's here.”

“Not quite.” She handed him a plastic bag. “Candy bars, dried fruit sticks, and beef jerky. You can't live off berries this time of year.”

Colin's eyes lit up. “Way to go, Wakara.”

She laughed. “You sound like Tia.”

Dakota nickered and pawed the ground, signaling that he, at least, was ready to go. Colin reached through the stall door and rubbed the gelding's nose. “Hang on, boy, we've got a lot to pack.”

“You said that right.” Kara picked up a hatchet and a small folding saw. “Most people would never carry around all this stuff.”

She thought back to her and Ryan's escape from the forest fire. They had nothing with them then except canteens, their jackets, and Ryan's simple survival kit. With God's help, that had been enough.

Colin must have been thinking along the same lines. “During the fire, Anne and I didn't have anything except her fishing gear. And that was no help at all. In a real emergency, you usually have to make do with whatever's at hand.”

She nodded. “True, but if anyone's going camping, hiking, or horseback riding, they should know what to take along.” She thought a minute. “Maybe we can show them some of both.”

Colin knelt down and began dividing the items into two piles, one for each pack. “What do you mean?”

Kara sprinted into the tack room and came back with two sets of saddlebags. “We take it all: one-man tent, bedrolls,
cord, coffee can, an aluminum pan—everything you need for a backpacking trip. The camping stuff goes on the horses, the rest goes in our packs. Then, when we've shown them what to bring and how to pack it, we can demonstrate what to do if they're lost or caught out without their supplies.”

“Whoa! Hold on. We've only got three hours, remember? I wanted to show them how to use a GPS.”

She rolled her eyes. “Get serious. You watched the video and still don't have a clue how to use one.”

Colin grinned, and she realized he was joking about the GPS.

“Look,” she said, “this really won't take that long. They've got the supply list and pictures right in the book. We demonstrate how to use some of the stuff, then let them help with a project.”

Colin sat back on his heels. “Just what project did you have in mind?”

She ignored his amused tone. “A pole shelter. Simple to build, and you can find materials in the woods in any kind of weather.”

Colin just stared at her. “And what do they use for a cover?”

“A space blanket. One of the main pieces of survival equipment, remember?” She bent down and poked him in the chest. “Then, Mr. Sarcastic, we let them practice building a windbreak for the fire.”

Colin toppled sideways, clutching at his heart. “Someone save me—she's not a teacher, she's a slave driver.”

Kara ignored him. “I'll get the horses, you pack the bags.”

By the time she had Lily brushed and saddled, Colin had all the supplies ready to load. He tied the saddlebags to the horses and slid open the barn door. The blast of cold air made her gasp. “Whoa, it hasn't warmed up any, has it?”

She led Lily to the mounting block. It was just an old tree stump, but it was the perfect height.

Tia always teased her about having the shortest legs at Lariat High. It was true. She sometimes had a problem if she had to dismount on a trail, but she never rode that far alone, so someone was usually around to give her a leg up.

Colin had fashioned a travois from a piece of flat wood enclosed on three sides with lodgepole rails. He attached leather straps to the open end, strung them through guides over Dakota's rump, and tied them to the saddle. Dakota danced a bit and stamped his foot, but otherwise tolerated the contraption. Colin set both backpacks in the makeshift sled. “The weight will keep it from bouncing around. But we'll have to carry them back if we're toting wood.”

“Fine by me, but you won't get much in that thing.”

He tightened his horse's girth, then swung into the saddle. “Don't have to. All Anne wants is some kindling and a few pieces of juniper. She said to make sure the pieces still have bark and leaves.” He wrinkled his nose. “She probably wants it for one of her brews. Remind me to never get sick.”

Kara laughed. “Hey, some of that herbal stuff really works. Oh, I forgot.” She dug two Ziploc bags out of her jacket pocket. “Anne sent these.”

Colin clucked to Dakota and urged him forward. “Hot dogs! Anne thinks of everything.”

Anne thinks of everything
. How annoying! While she came up with the plans for their survival demonstration and gathered most of the supplies, Colin had stood there looking smug and questioned her ideas. But let Anne provide a package of wieners, and suddenly she's the world's greatest hero.

I
T
TOOK
TWO
HOURS
TO
REACH
the clearing by the creek where they planned to practice. The trail was damp, most of it shaded by tall ponderosa pines, and the ground was still slick. Spider webs glistened like spun sugar between the frosted branches of the trees. The horses picked their way carefully, hooves crunching through the thin ice. They made several stops to clear away fallen limbs and line them up along the edges of the trail. The guys would come in later with a chain saw and cut the limbs into firewood.

Juniper was scarce and scattered among the larger trees. They had to go into the woods to gather what they needed, and Kara made sure she kept the trail in sight. She wasn't usually nervous in the woods, but with a big cat in the neighborhood, she couldn't help looking over her shoulder each time a twig snapped. Colin worked quietly. He kept his head up as he studied the tree line and peered behind large fallen logs.

They stacked most of the juniper and smaller pieces of wood by the trail to pick up on the way back, but Colin piled enough in the travois to build a fire for their midday meal.

While they were scavenging, they found several small branches from a lodgepole pine. Kara dragged them to the travois. “These will be great for the shelter.”

Colin nodded and pointed to the curve up ahead. “Hear the water? We're almost there.”

She slapped her gloved hands against her thighs. “Good. It's cold out here, and I'm already hungry.”

He cupped his hands, fingers entwined, to give her a leg up into the saddle. “Let's go, Princess. I could eat a bite or two myself.”

She hated it when he called her Princess, but she didn't object out loud—it was the nicest thing he had said to her all day. Actually, all week. They had hardly had any time together since the football game, and neither of them had even talked about going to last night's game in Lariat. She wondered if he would offer to come to the youth group meeting on Sunday night.
Should I invite him
? She really didn't know what to do. Colin had been acting strange ever since the fire. At the lodge, she was sure that he liked her as more than just a friend. Now it seemed like he was treating her more like a sister.

Lily picked up the scent of running water and hurried forward. Kara let her have her head, and the pretty mare practically pranced toward the creek. She dismounted and let Lily quench her thirst, then tied her reins around a sturdy tree. Colin came into the clearing more slowly. He had to keep the big gelding at a walk, or the makeshift travois would fall apart. Kara had to admit the device came in handy. Maybe when they got back she could help him make a better one.

They wasted no time building a fire. Kara scattered some dry moss in a small circle, then stacked kindling tepee-style inside the ring of blackened rocks, while Colin brought
over some slightly bigger pieces from the travois. Her family had used this fire ring ever since she could remember.

“Is this your property or Carlsons'?” Colin stacked a piece of rotted Douglas fir on the small pile at his feet, then hunkered down to light the kindling that Kara had prepared. “Hey, good job.”

Wakara felt a stab of irritation. Did he think she'd never done this before? She'd been building fires since she was Ryan's age. She sat back on her heels and watched him guide a lighted match between the twigs.
And
, she thought,
starting them with flint and steel since I was ten
.

Sometimes she forgot he'd only been around for about five months. He really didn't know much about her. She wondered how much Greg had told him—probably not much. She and Greg were too far apart in age to be close friends. She doubted he even thought about her very much, let alone talked about her to his buddies.

Colin had opened up to her a little back when he first came to the ranch, then again this summer when they were at Eagle Lodge. He had told her that his parents were divorced, that he'd spent some time in a youth camp for troubled teens, then he'd finally gone to live with his uncle in Alaska. That was where he had learned about woodsmanship and horses.

“Wakara?”

“Sorry. You wanted to know about the boundaries.” She plopped down with her legs crossed Indian style and held her hands over the flickering flame. “This clearing is actually on both properties. I don't think anyone really knows where the line is. In fact, the entire trail crosses over so many times we don't even try to figure it out.”

Colin carefully crossed two small pieces of wood on top of the now steadily burning kindling and huddled close, holding out his hands and rubbing them together.

Small fire—get close—stay warm. Big fire—stay back—get cold
. She couldn't remember where she'd learned that, but it was certainly true.

Colin had gone quiet again, staring into the flames as if they held a secret meant only for him. Kara wondered what he was thinking. For her, sitting around a campfire had always been a time to dream, make up stories, or watch the flames and think of nothing at all. She sighed and felt a sense of contentment as her body grew warmer and her muscles began to relax.

The sky had turned a dull gray, wrapping everything around them—trees, ground, and river—in a thick, damp mist. She felt too sleepy to move, as if she were bundled in a damp cotton quilt.

Colin stirred and added another small log to the fire. “How about those hot dogs? I'm so hungry I could eat an entire cow!”

Reluctantly, Kara pushed to her knees. She dug deep into her pockets and pulled out the package of wieners and a baggie that held mustard samples left over from meals at the Burger Barn. “The dried fruit and candy bars are in my saddlebag. I wish we'd brought coffee.”

“Well now, little lady, you can't be expected to think of everything.” Colin stood and swaggered over to where the horses were tethered just a few yards away. Kara rolled her eyes and turned her back to the fire. When Colin returned, he tossed something over her shoulder. It landed with a plop into her lap.

She scrambled back around. “Freeze-dried coffee—Colombian.” She tried not to smile. “Well, looks like you are good for something after all.”

She hoped he knew she was teasing. But he was busy arranging the aluminum coffeepot on a small, flat rock he'd
already positioned at one edge of the fire and didn't take the bait.

Her fingers wouldn't cooperate as she struggled to open the vacuum-sealed package. She finally gave up and tossed it back to Colin. He caught it in midair, flipped open his pocketknife, and slit the top. The aroma made her mouth water, and her stomach growled in anticipation.

Colin grinned. “You sound like a half-starved bear cub.”

Her stomach once again told her she was hungry. They both laughed. “More like the mama bear just out of hibernation. What time is it, anyway?”

He looked at his watch. “Almost one o'clock. Hard to believe we've been out here that long.”

While the coffee perked, Wakara dipped her hands into the icy creek, dug up some sand, scrubbed, and rinsed.

“You've done this before.” Colin knelt next to her, cleaning his own hands and the ends of two sticks he'd found on the ground.

She nodded. “Dad's been taking us camping ever since I can remember. I caught my first fish when I was three. Greg used to tease me when we were younger and say I should have been a boy, but Dad insisted we all learn camping and survival skills. Mom said Greg was jealous because it came so easy for me.” She stood and waved her hands in the air to dry them. “Maybe it has something to do with my heritage.”