Mary Connealy (13 page)

Amy thought of the plant for a second, then added, “Oh, I remember now, one of the missionaries told us yán goes by another name in the English language.”

“What name?” Braden asked.

Amy carefully turned away from the group and washed her hands thoroughly as she tried to remember. “It was something about one of your ancient teachers. We studied him a bit in school.” She dried her hands and turned back to the four of them, only then noticing the way they were staring at her, as if she’d wrestled the bear single-handedly rather than just tossing the bane at him. And that’s when she remembered.

“Socrates.” She nodded with satisfaction.

“What about him?” Meredith asked.

Ian slipped his arm around Meredith and rested his big hand on her slender waist.

“He drank the potion from this plant.”

Silence stretched long in the room.

At last Meredith asked, “You mean hemlock?”

Amy snapped her fingers. “Yes, some people call it hemlock.”

Ian dropped his arm from Meredith and buried his face in both hands. “Bear repellant.”

“She’s got hemlock in a bag.” Tucker’s shoulders began to tremble in a way Amy couldn’t define, almost as if he were laughing. But what was funny about any of this? He ducked his head, then turned his back and went to the door. He must be preparing to mend it.

“Well, he will not be back, and it is time to fix supper. I will get smoked salmon. It will cook up quickly.”

Braden rested his hands on her shoulders and turned her back to the dry sink Ian had fashioned out of a three-foot section of a hollowed-out bud gum tree. “First, before you cook our supper, why don’t you wash your hands once more?”

Amy reached for the pail of water, but Braden blocked her hands and poured the water for her, then carefully wiped the bucket where she’d grasped it moments earlier. Amy let him help as she washed again, though she couldn’t imagine why. Had he seen a smudge on her hands that she’d missed?

As Amy washed, Meredith came up beside her and handed her a bar of soap. “What else do you have in that bag?”

Amy accepted it and kept scrubbing. “Oh well, tundra rose, of course, and mooseberries. A bit of devil’s club, although not enough. I got tired of dodging the thorns and will go back later for more. I brought in a bit of spruce tip, hard to run a home without that. And there are crushed leaves that make a wonderful mosquito repellant. We can rub it on our skin and—”

“It’s not made out of nightshade, is it?” Amy noticed Meredith wringing her hands together.

“Nightshade? I have never heard of that. Does it grow around here? Does it make a good tonic?” Amy wiped her hands again on the flour-sack towel hanging on a peg near the sink. When she finished, Braden took it between two fingertips, held it far from his body, and tossed it out the window.

“How about foxglove?” Tucker kept his back to her, apparently fascinated by the door, his shoulders shaking harder now.

“Foxglove? My, no. That is not an Alaskan plant. Do you people know nothing about the northern lands?” Amy crossed her arms, wondering why they were all staring at her except Tucker, who ignored her as blatantly as the others stared.

“Wolf bane, maybe?” Ian asked. “That’d keep the mosquitoes away, I’m thinking. After all, it stands to reason that anything that’ll scare off a wolf’ll scare off a mosquito.”

Amy frowned at them.

“Any poisonous mushrooms in that bag, Amy darlin’?” Braden shook his head at her. “Or maybe you’ve stored up a little rattlesnake venom?”

Suddenly they all burst out laughing.

Just as Amy’s feelings began to pinch, Meredith threw her arms wide and hugged Amy until she could barely breathe.

Meredith whispered in her ear. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

The words and the tight hug were so sweet Amy hugged her back. She thought of Braden’s arms around her on the cliff, then later when he tossed her here and there as he stood in the breach between her and a savage bear. It was a completely different kind of feeling from Meredith’s hug, but he’d been trying to save her, even if it had slowed her down. It healed a lonely place in her heart to know he’d put her safety above his own.

The laughter quit hurting, and soon she joined in.

Meredith pulled away. “What in the world is a hintak xóodzi?”

“It is my people’s word for the great white bear.”

“Your people?” Tucker asked.

Braden and Amy exchanged a glance. Braden gave her an encouraging nod.

“Braden, you and Tucker run and fetch me the salmon. Ian, get a fire started in the fireplace. Meredith, you get comfortable at the table. I am hopeful the salmon will not upset your stomach as much as the mutton. When we are together, I will make supper while I tell you all about hintak xóodzi
and my people.”

Fourteen

Amy wanted to march straight down to her father’s cabin and confront the man who now lived there. It galled her to admit it, but she was too frightened to go alone. She didn’t want to further frighten Meredith, so she didn’t try to get the whole family to help her. She focused on Braden, but although two weeks had passed since the attack on the cliff, he still refused to help.

She was turning into a nag, and it was all his fault. He also wouldn’t let her go anywhere alone. Amy got some satisfaction out of ordering the stubborn man around while he followed her. It neared mid-June. The days were hot, but a cool breeze kept them comfortable as Amy tramped through the woods with Braden ever watchful at her side. The snow had melted away from all but the mountain peaks.

“Pull that limb down so I can cut it.” She jabbed an impatient finger at a stunted little tree with bright scarlet branches as thin as a whipcord. Amy simmered like a pot over a hot fire with the lid clamped down tight. She wanted to go to her father’s, and she couldn’t with Braden watching her every move.

“What are these good for?” He took notice of everything she did and helped any way she asked. This time, she was cutting tender red twigs off a dogwood tree. She respected his wish to know all about this new land. She’d been a teacher in Seattle, and it seemed natural to share her knowledge.

“I will weave a design into baskets with them.” Holding up the narrow, supple twigs, she drew strength from their beauty. “The red makes a nice border design.”

Satisfied with her stack of colored twigs, she went on to a stand of alder trees. Braden followed along, acting as pack mule. Amy noticed he never fully relaxed or let his attention wander from the woods around them.

“The alder bark treats infections, and I use it to tan hides.” She carved slices of bark, careful to leave plenty intact so the tree would heal.

Another day, Amy pulled out the wickedly sharp knife, her only tool, and began carving. “This is a bud gum tree. Ian used a stump from one for his sink. We can also make buckets from the bark, then waterproof them with the gum. Then we will dig into the ground and steal roots. They make excellent rope.”

Braden shook his head as if the bounty of nature amazed him. She climbed hills and scrambled over rocks, ignoring the ache of her hands, which still bore scrapes from her fall off the cliff. The scabs on her hands and face were mostly gone, and the skin had toughened. She hacked away at trees and shrubs without giving a thought to asking for help. He insisted on helping, of course, but she’d have let him stand by and keep watch if he hadn’t offered.

She moved on to a thicket. Long yellow spines stood guard over the tender inner branches, and fragrant white flowers dotted the bushes.

Amy pulled leather gloves from her pocket and tugged them on. She had tanned the sheepskin, and cut out the fine leather to make them. “Do not help with this one. You do not want a thorn in your skin. It will fester, and it is very slow healing.”

Braden caught her arm as she reached for it. “Then why don’t you leave it alone?”

Amy smiled as she straightened away from the plant. “This plant does not want to share itself, but it is a plant my people prize, and we have learned our way around the stubborn thing.”

“Prize for what?” The large stand of shrubs with their fierce thorns formed an impenetrable thicket that reached up the steep incline in front of them.

Amy’s smile turned into laughter. “My grandmother would tell you it wards off witches and bad luck.”

“Witches, huh?” Braden had set the bulk of his load on the ground, keeping his gun at hand. “Well, we don’t need that since I don’t believe in witches.”

“Neither do I, but it makes a restorative tea, and I want some for Merry.” Amy smiled. Then the smile faded. “She is getting much better, I think.”

A stubborn expression came over Braden’s face. “Yes, much better. This is the third morning in a row she hasn’t been sick, and she stayed in the cabin while you cooked breakfast. She’s still not ready to be left alone.”

They’d talked of going to her father’s often. Braden always had excuses why now was not the time. “She would not be alone. Ian would stay with her.” Amy’s eyes narrowed. “You know I need to go.”

“Amy, we just can’t—”

“If it were your father,” she cut him off, “you would go. Do not tell me otherwise.”

“It would be different in Oregon with a sheriff in town and a marshal’s office to keep peace in the countryside. In Alaska, with no law closer than Dyea, the sheriff would never tramp hours into the woods after a criminal. Alaska is still a territory, and the law outside of town resembles the law in any wilderness.”

Amy turned away from the nasty plant. Jerking her gloves off, she clutched them in one hand and whacked her other hand with the soft leather. “I know, and I have been patient, but it is time, Braden. We could be down there and back in one day.”

Braden snorted. “The sun doesn’t set. One day lasts six months.”

She slapped the gloves into her hand again. “I am tired of waiting.”
Slap
.
“I am giving Merry a few more days.”
Slap!
“Then I am going with or without you.”

Braden caught the gloves, an irritated expression darkening his eyes.

“I am not going to fight the man. I am going to wait until he is gone, then slip in and out quickly.” She held tight to the other end of the gloves and yanked on them.

Braden refused to let go. “You’re staying right here.”

“Now that I have been warned, I do not need a bodyguard.” She wrenched at the gloves and stumbled forward. “I know how to move through the woods. I know the signs of others in the area. I would be fine.”

One hand landed on Braden’s chest, the other firmly grasped the gloves. She looked up at Braden.

He dipped his head and kissed her.

Her lips softened. Braden jumped away and turned his back.

“I have enough.”

Braden turned. “What?”

“I said, I have enough. Let us go home.”

“Listen, Amy.” Braden caught her arm. “I’m sorry. That. . . that shouldn’t have happened.”

Amy turned. “You are right. And it will not happen again. I do not let men. . .close to me like that, Braden. If you would have asked, the answer would have been no.”

Temper sparked in his eyes. “That wasn’t only me. You kissed me back.”

Amy gave his hand clamped around her upper arm a hard look. “Are you finished?”

“Yes. The afternoon is waning.” Braden looked at the sky. “The sun is going to set in, oh, about six hours, I’d say.”

A tiny laugh escaped Amy’s tingling lips, and she shook her head. Braden let go of her. He picked up the load she’d been gathering, and she filled the fur-lined bag she always carried, slung it over her shoulder, and filled her arms besides.

They went back toward the house together. As they neared the clearing, they saw Tucker stacking windfall branches. Meredith sat on the stump they’d used for chopping wood and sewed another shirt for Ian or one of the other men. She was keeping them all supplied with clothes.

“She is almost better, Braden.”

“Just be patient, woman.”

“I have been patient. More patient than any of you have a right to expect. I need to find out what happened to Papa.” Amy turned and blocked the path in front of Braden. He stopped, or he’d have run over her. They faced each other with arms filled with bark and branches, leaves and roots. “Take me to my father’s, or I will go alone.”

Braden leaned forward until their noses almost touched, despite the load they both carried. “Fetching after your da’s house is the way of a greedy woman. You have plenty here. Why do you need more?”

“I am not greedy, Braden Rafferty. This is not about that cabin. This is about justice.”

“If it’s not about greed, then it’s about revenge.”

“Justice is not revenge.”

“You can’t bring your father back. You can’t live in that house alone. You can’t even be sure someone attacked you.”

“Again you call me a liar.” The twigs Amy hugged to her chest snapped.

“Mistaken, not a liar. We’ve seen no one around. Ian, Tucker, and I are fair hands in the woods. But none of us is as good as you, are we, Amaruq Wolf Girl?”

“No, not a one of you is as good as me.” She realized how boastful that sounded, and bragging wasn’t what she intended. She’d merely spoken the truth.

“So, have you seen him?”

Amy raised up on her toes to shout at him before she truly thought about what he’d said. She dropped, flat-footed. “No. No, I have not seen him, nor any sign of him.”

She blinked, trying to focus all her fears and finding doubts taking their place.

“Maybe that’s because he doesn’t exist.” Braden arched one skeptical eyebrow. “Or maybe it’s because some winter-crazed man like Rooster was passing through and did something cockeyed for no reason other than ’cause he’s a loon.”

Amy knew it wasn’t true. She remembered the laughter. She’d heard it in Seattle, hadn’t she? What about the menace on the
Northward
that night Braden had left her alone? What about her fear as she stood too close to the railing? It couldn’t all be her imagination. She had too much respect for her instincts for that. But she was tired of wasting her breath trying to convince Braden.

“Fine, if you want to explain away what happened on that cliff, you do so. But hear this, Braden Rafferty. I am going to my papa’s cabin. I am going, and I am going soon. Merry is my friend, and I will care for her as long as she needs it.”

“But no longer?” Braden’s eyes narrowed and anger tinged color into his freckled cheeks. “You won’t turn left nor right from your obsession with your father, even if it means betraying all of us, when we took you in.”

“Betraying you? You are betraying me with your doubts and insults. So no, I will not be swayed from my course.”

“You’re not goin’ anywhere.” Braden’s cheeks were so crimson with anger Amy thought if she touched them her fingertips might sizzle.

“Am I a prisoner then?”

“No, there are no door locks to keep you here. But if you go, you walk away from all of us.”

“By whose order? Merry would let me return. I live in her home, not yours.”

“You live with the Raffertys. Do you think Ian will keep you here if I tell him I want you to leave? Do you think he’ll stand by while your recklessness frightens Merry, maybe enough to make her lose their child? You already made her walk a long distance to find us when you needed help. How many times will you do that before Ian says enough?”

Amy’s heart sank. Braden’s words reminded her that she was indeed the outsider here. She was alone in the world. And it was for just that reason that she had to find justice for her father. She had to find the truth.

Wait on the Lord.

No!
she shouted in her heart. She’d waited long enough. Too long.

“So be it, Braden. When I go, I will go for good.” She whirled away and charged across the opening surrounding the cabin. She went inside and shut the cabin door before Meredith or Tucker noticed they’d returned.

❧

Braden stared at the closing door. He wanted to go in and shake her and hold her and kiss her and. . .and. . .

The ideas that came into his head shocked him, ideas of marrying Amy and having her fill up the empty places in his heart. He prayed for self-control.

Self-control. Lord, when did I start needing that?

Braden felt a weight crushing his chest as he realized Amy was in his heart. Amy was the one prompting his prayers for self-control. Amy was the one.

And she wanted to go on a long hike in the woods. Alone with him. Just the two of them. His heart beat faster as he thought of the long hours he’d spent with her this last month and how much he’d learned and how he loved seeing her in the sunlight and twilight and any other time of day.

He took a step toward the cabin and stopped. He couldn’t do it.

It would betray Maggie. Wasn’t failing one woman enough? The self-control he prayed for surged to life as he realized he was forgetting the wife of his heart. The woman he’d played with as a child, held hands with as a young man, killed as a husband. God wouldn’t ask him to risk another woman.

Through the window, Braden saw Amy at work over the fireplace. Amy, caring for them day and night. A true friend to Meredith. So wise in the ways of Alaska that all their lives were better for her presence.

The aroma of mutton wafted out of the cabin. Braden saw Meredith turn her head toward the scent and lose all the color from her cheeks. Clamping her hand over her mouth, Meredith jumped up. She dashed for the underbrush near the cabin and disappeared.

Tucker exchanged glances with Braden to make sure they were both aware. Braden jerked his head toward the house. Tucker nodded, hefted his Winchester over his shoulder with a quick, fluid move, and started after his sister just as the sound of retching came from the bushes.

Braden set Amy’s treasures outside the cabin door when he wanted to go inside and beg her to care more for him than for her missing father. Instead, he turned his hand to collecting firewood, staying within sight of the cabin.

Protecting her from afar to protect his own foolish heart.