Yellowstone Romance Series - Bundle (# 2-5) (11 page)

Jean-Luc scratched his stubbly black beard, and a wide grin formed on his face. “Sarah Osborne!” he exclaimed. “What a pleasure.” He licked his lips, as if in anticipation of a delicious meal. “Might I join your camp?”

What could she say? She nodded hesitantly.

The man’s eyes darted around. “Surely you are not here by yourself,” he said in mock outrage. “Where is your father, or one of those twin brothers of yours?” His smile brought bile to her throat.

“I am not here alone,” she said, raising her chin. “My….my man will return shortly.”

Jean Luc’s eyebrows rose. “Your man? Daniel Osborne has finally found someone worthy of his daughter?”

Sarah ignored his sarcastic question. She gripped her knife with a firm hand, holding it in front of her, and dared not take her eyes off this man. He was looking at her like a coyote ready to feast on an unguarded elk carcass. She made sure she kept the fire between herself and him.

Where was Chase? He might not know how to protect her from Jean Luc, if this vile man made advances towards her, but merely his presence should be enough of a deterrent.

“I have no food to offer you,” she said, hoping he would be on his way.

“Oh, just the company is enough for a man to rest here for a while,” he drawled.

Sarah swallowed nervously. “I . . . I’ll be back momentarily,” she said, and headed towards the creek where she’d last seen Chase. Jean Luc darted in front of her. “You can entertain me while we wait for your man to return,” he said in a deep voice.

Sarah could smell the stench of rotten teeth on him. She quickly raised her knife in front of her. “Let me pass,” she said firmly. She pushed at him with her elbow and moved to the right to pass, when his hand snaked out and grabbed her wrist. He twisted it and squeezed tightly, forcing her to drop her knife.

“I have dreamed of you over the long winter months, Sarah. Do you know that?” He yanked her up against his chest. Sarah turned her face and squeezed her eyes shut. She could feel the rough whiskers of his beard scraping her cheek. “The way you teased and tormented me last summer. I know you wanted me, too. But your family wouldn’t give us a moment’s time alone.”

She frantically shook her head. “You are mistaken, Jean Luc. I have no such feelings for you.”

“Is there a problem here?”

Sarah’s knees went weak with relief, and she turned her head at the sound of Chase’s voice. Grizzly growled loudly from behind her, and Chase patted the dog’s head to quiet him. Jean Luc released her, and slowly moved away. Chase’s heated stare darted from her to the much shorter Frenchman. Jean Luc’s eyes went wide.

“You didn’t tell me you were meeting your boyfriend here, Sarah,” Chase said. Her forehead wrinkled. She didn’t know what he meant.

“You are her man?” Jean Luc asked, and Sarah could hear the uncertainty in his voice. He seemed to take the big man’s measure. Sarah bit her lip. What would Chase say? Would he protect her honor?

Chase raised his eyebrows at the man’s question, and shot Sarah a quick look. “Yeah, I guess you could say that,” he answered slowly. Then he reached his hand out, “Come here, sweetheart.”

Sarah darted around Jean Luc, and took hold of Chase’s hand. He pulled her up close to him and wrapped an arm around her waist. Despite the tension in the air, her body reacted to his nearness. Warm tingles surged along every nerve ending that made contact with his solid body.

“Maybe you should go and find your own spot to camp,” Chase suggested casually. Sarah could feel his muscles tense. “Me and the . . . little woman here like our privacy. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” He flashed her a wide grin, and she nodded her head slightly. Chase leaned over and kissed her on the mouth. Her senses overflowed. Shocked at first, she dared not pull away from him this time. She couldn’t inhale a deep enough breath, and her heart hammered against her ribs. Chase’s lips moved against hers, and his hold around her waist tightened. Mortified, her body seemed to have a will of its own when she leaned closer to him. Her lips parted slightly, and her hand came up to rest against his heart.

Short coughing sounds behind her brought her back to her senses. Chase loosened the hold around her waist, but maintained contact. 

“My apologies,” Jean Luc said, his eyes cold and twitching. Sarah tensed, and gripped Chase’s arm. “I will be on my way then.”

Jean Luc picked up the rifle he had dropped on the ground, and looked to head for the trees. Suddenly he wheeled around, and raised the flintlock, aiming it at Chase. Grizzly growled deeply, and Sarah saw movement out of the corner of her eyes. Her dog leapt into action, and ran at Jean Luc. With a loud snarl, he lunged at the man. The sound of a gunshot mixed with the high pitched whine of a dog in pain. Sarah’s heart dropped.

“No!” Her eyes widened in horror. The giant dog fell on top of the Frenchman, knocking him to the ground with a loud thud, and a cracking sound like rock hitting rock.  Both bodies lay limp and motionless.

Sarah ran to her dog. “Grizzly, no.” She fell to her knees, her hands buried in the dog’s thick fur, combing over his body. Her vision blurred, and she wiped a hasty hand over her eyes. Chase came up beside her.

“Is he dead?” Chase’s voice sounded somber.

Sarah shot a quick glance at Jean Luc, who hadn’t move underneath the giant dog, his head turned at an odd angle. Blood oozed from a spot on his head that made contact with a large rock on the ground. The man’s mouth was half-open, his eyes frozen in shock.

“Yes, he’s dead,” she spat, not hiding the bitterness in her voice.

“Not that creep. The dog,” Chase said, his voice raised.

Sarah sniffed. She continued to feel along Grizzly’s ribcage. She felt a slight movement. The dog stirred, and let out a low moan, like a primordial howl, deep in his chest.

“No,” she gave a quick laugh. Relief eased the tension and sinking feeling in her. “I have to find his wound.” She looked up at Chase. His mouth was drawn in a tight line, and his jaw muscles moved along the sides of his face. She’d never seen him with such a serious expression.

Chase’s arms reached for the dog. “Here, let me move him off that piece of shit.” He ran his hands under Grizzly’s body, and lifted him off Jean Luc. Gently, Chase carried the dog and placed him on his blanket by the fire. The venom in his spoken words touched her to the core.

Grizzly dog-paddled with all four legs, trying to right himself from his lateral position. He lay dazed, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, but he was able to remain lying in an upright position.

Sarah knelt down beside him. “There,” she pointed to Grizzly’s head. “The shot grazed his skull. It’s only a flesh wound. It must have knocked him out momentarily.” She wrapped her arms around the dog’s furry neck, and he whined softly.

“He saved my life,” Chase said solemnly. He knelt down beside her, and stroked the dog’s back. Sarah studied him. The boyish demeanor she was used to seeing was completely replaced with that of a hardened man.  Their eyes met, and she smiled softly, blinking away fresh tears. Chase’s eyes darkened. His hand came up, his fingers grazing her cheek.

“Sarah,” he whispered, his voice trailing off. He leaned towards her. His touch was so gentle, she wanted to give in to her body’s desire to lean into him.  Pulling away, she rose quickly to her feet.

“I . . . I need to get fresh water to clean Grizzly’s wound.” She spun around to head towards the creek.

“What are we going to do with the dead guy?” Chase called after her.

Sarah turned. “Take him downstream, and drop him in the water,” she said coldly. Chase walked towards her. She braced herself, her heart rate increasing.

“You sure you want to pollute the water with him?” Chase asked.

“The current will carry him away from here. A dead body will only attract predators.”

“Who was he?” His heated gaze scorched her from the inside out.

“Just a trapper.” Sarah shrugged, and glanced over at the body on the ground. “He made undue advances towards me last year at rendezvous. My brothers and father kept him away from me.” She looked up and met Chase’s eyes. When had he moved so close to her? She could feel the heat coming off his body. “Thank you for letting him believe you were my man,” she whispered.

“Any time,” he said, his tone husky. “Jerks like that exist in my time, too.” He clenched his jaw, then turned back to where Grizzly lay on the blanket. He touched the dog’s head, and Grizzly whined softly. “Better go get that water, Angel.”

Chapter 12

By mid-afternoon the following day, the Gibbon River Canyon they’d been traversing widened. Coming over a low rise into the valley, Chase spotted the log structures of Sarah’s home. The large cabin sat nestled against some pines at the base of a steep incline that led to more forest. It was strategically built to offer a spectacular view of the valley, just across the bend in the Madison River, and the steep mountain rising beyond the opposite bank.  The smaller cabin sat a short distance away. There was no other hint of civilization. Two weeks ago, he remembered the meadow busy with families enjoying a few days away from their otherwise hectic lives. Fly fishermen had waded in the Madison, casting their lures in hopes of landing that big trout.

Chase groaned, and shifted the giant dog in his arms. Grizzly had survived his heroic act of protecting him from getting shot by that trapper, and his wound didn’t appear all that serious. It had left him weak and dazed, however. While he was able to walk short distances, the dog stopped frequently and refused to follow Sarah any further. Chase had carried the animal most of the way here. He was glad to finally be able to lighten his load once they’d reach the cabin. The dog had to weigh a hundred pounds, if not more, but it was the least he could do for this animal that had saved his life.

“Why don’t you let him walk the rest of the way?”

Sarah’s softly spoken words jolted him out of his memories of last night, when he returned from the creek to find that scum touching her. His first impulse had been to grab the neck of the short little weasel and knock him into next week, but he’d decided to play it cool instead. He now wished he had done the former. Then the dog wouldn’t have gotten shot. 

He’d been happy to play along and pretend to be Sarah’s husband. He assumed that’s what the weasel had meant when he called him Sarah’s man. Never one to miss an opportunity, Chase had seized on the chance to kiss her. He had wanted to do that for days, and the opportunity had presented itself. The way she responded to him came as a complete surprise. He vowed that the next time he kissed her, it would be under different circumstances.

Chase lowered the dog to the ground. Grizzly stood on wobbly paws for a moment, then trotted off across the meadow.

“He looks like a drunken sailor,” Chase grinned.

“A what?” Sarah asked, meeting his gaze when he looked down at her.

“It’s an expression. When someone is drunk, he can’t move too steadily on his feet, and swerves and weaves around a lot. Just like Grizzly’s doing.” He nodded in the dog’s direction. He reached up and wiped some sweat from his forehead before his eyes caught Sarah’s stare.

“What?” he asked. Did he say the wrong thing?

“Have you ever been drunk, Chase?”

He groaned silently. He didn’t want to go there. For a moment, he held her sharp stare. He couldn’t lie to this girl. With a deep intake of breath, he said, “Yeah, Angel, I’ve been drunk.” He didn’t need to elaborate and tell her that his drinking and drugs were the reason, ultimately, that had brought him here.

“I have seen what alcohol does to a man’s senses.” The disgust in her voice was unmistakable. “Men drink themselves into a stupor, and they behave worse than animals.”

He’d been the man she described plenty of times. Sweat beaded his forehead anew.

“Why do men feel the need to drink?” she asked.

Chase scratched the back of his neck. “I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Fun, maybe. Recreation. To be accepted socially.” He stared straight ahead. They were almost at the cabin. “Maybe to forget things…” his voice trailed off.

“My childhood friend, Falling Rain, fell victim to a man who chose alcohol for…as you say, fun and recreation.”

He peered over at her. With a sinking feeling, he knew what she would say next.

“You say men use alcohol to forget. I know Falling Rain has never forgotten the man who raped her and left her to die while he was in a drunken stupor. She was twelve years old.”

“Shit.” Chase ran his hand down his face.

Sarah stopped walking. She offered a slow smile. “I’m sorry. I overreacted. None of that has to do with you. I just get angry when I hear or see men make fools of themselves and turn into vile creatures because of alcohol. I’m sure you had good reason when you chose to consume too much.”

Russell, you could use a stiff drink right now.

“Look, it’s still early. I think I’ll go rinse the trail dust off in the river.” He needed to get away. What would she think of him if she ever found out that drinking himself to the point of passing out was part of his daily routine less than a year ago? Hell, it’s what landed him here in this time. She’d probably tell him to get lost, and slam the door in his face. Not that he could blame her. He headed toward the Madison without another word. He could feel her eyes on him, probably wondering if he’d ever done something as low and disgusting as what she’d just told him.

******

Chase knocked on the cabin door, pulling his shirt on over his head. Sarah didn’t answer, even on his second knock. Slowly, he opened it, and peered inside. Grizzly greeted him with a weak wag of his tail, and a whine. His eyes darted around the dim main room. A warm sensation doused him, and he smiled. Sarah sat in a chair, her head resting on her arms on the table. She was sound asleep. Her weapons, bedroll, and pouches she’d been carrying on their trip all lay in a heap on the ground.

He couldn’t blame her. She had to be worn out. She’d barely slept in three days, and had done most of the work. Chase nudged her gently. She moaned softly, but otherwise didn’t stir.

“Come on, Angel, time for bed,” he whispered. He peeled her arms off the table, supporting her head as it fell back against his arm, scooped his other arm under her knees, and lifted her off the chair. She sighed and nestled her head against his chest. Chase stared at her for a moment and tightened his hold, then carried her to her bedroom. He elbowed the door open, and deposited her quietly on the bed. He was about to pull some covers over her, when his eyes fell to her belt. He unbuckled it and pulled it out from under her, laying it on the table next to the bed.

“Good night, Angel” he said, and bent over her, touching his lips to her forehead. She nestled deeper into her covers, and a gentle smile formed on her lips. Chase’s stomach tightened. He brushed some lose strands of hair out of her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek, then quietly left the room.

The dog lay by the hearth, his tail thumping loudly against the floorboards.

“How about we get this place warmed up and rustle us up some chow, Grizz?” The tail thumped more forcefully against the ground.

Chase pulled out his knife and flint, and was about to kneel in front of the hearth, when he realized the firewood box was nearly empty. He rose, groaning at the stiffness in his legs. He’d definitely gotten a good workout the last few days. Where was a gas log when you needed one? One flip of a match, a turn of the key, and a fire would be no problem. Better yet, an electric heater would be nice.

Wishful thinking wasn’t going to warm this cabin up, and the sun had almost disappeared into the western horizon. Chase went outside to the enormous woodpile around the corner. Most of the wood sat in large chunks, too big to burn. He spotted a tree stump that obviously served as a chopping block, and a huge ax leaning up against it.

“Ok, how hard can this be,” he said out loud. He picked up a block of wood and set it on the stump, then swung the ax. The blade buried itself in the wood and held on.

“Damn.” He figured he could split the log with one blow, but apparently he needed to swing harder. With the wood still attached to the blade, he swung again, bringing the log down onto the chopping block. This time it split with a loud crack. The two resulting pieces were still too large, so he repeated his actions to split the half pieces into quarters. With each blow, he learned and adjusted how much force to use, and within twenty minutes he had a sizeable pile of usable fire logs at his feet.

Grinning in satisfaction, he wiped the sweat off his forehead, and rotated his shoulders. Carrying the dog all day, and after that unplanned workout of chopping wood, he’d definitely be sore in the morning. There was barely any daylight left when he carried his last load into the cabin, but at least the box was full again.

Starting a fire was no longer a problem. He’d gotten the hang of that real quick. His stomach growled loudly. Was there anything to eat around here? Chase lit the lantern on the table, then the one on the smaller table in the corner. The room gave off a soft glow. Still not as bright as an electric light, but it gave him a homey feeling.

The water bucket he’d seen Sarah carry from the river several days ago still stood on the workbench. It was empty now. With a heavy sigh, he picked it up and went back outside, headed down to the river, and refilled it. The night air was loud with the rhythmic cadence of crickets chirping. An occasional owl hooted in the trees. Countless swallow-like birds hovered over the river, darting up and down to feast on the millions of bugs that swarmed the water.

He’d never stopped to appreciate the peacefulness of it all. The few weeks he’d been in Yellowstone prior to his unexpected plunge into the past, he’d done his job without really looking around. He had to admit, the sights and sounds of nature held a certain appeal. Getting used to doing without modern conveniences like electricity, and indoor plumbing might take a lot longer. He’d never realized how he’d taken all those modern things for granted, now that he had none of them available. Instead of hopping in his car and driving to the corner fast food joint, he had to either kill something, dig it up out of the ground, or pull it out of a tree. Then it needed to be cooked. He hoped there was an edible morsel somewhere in the cabin.

Carrying the bucket from the river, his eyes veered towards the small cabin to his right. Curiosity took hold. He set the bucket on the work bench in the main house first, then picked up the lantern on the table, and went back outside. Slowly, he opened the door to the other cabin. The hinges creaked loudly. He raised the lantern high to see better.

He couldn’t make out much. The cabin was a simple room. There was one bunk on the wall to the right. The back wall was one large hearth and fireplace. Stacks of blankets, furs, and leather items lined the opposite wall. Several wooden trunks were stacked in a corner. His lips raised in a grin when he spotted a rack along the wall by the hearth. What looked to be dried meat hung from the rack. Chase removed a large chunk, and returned to the main cabin.

He cut a piece off and put it in his mouth. It was hard and dry. He’d be chewing this stuff all night just to get his fill. Glancing around, hoping an inspiration would hit him, he saw the kettle Sarah had used to cook her stew. Why not? He could cut up some of the meat and pour water over it, and cook it. That might soften it up.

“Don’t look at me like that, Grizz,” he said to the dog, which lay patiently by the hearth, observing his every move. “You’re going to be eating this, too.” The dog whined. “And no complaints about my cooking.”

An hour later, Chase ladled meat and broth into two bowls. He set one in front of the dog, who lapped it up eagerly, and took his own to sit at the table. The meat had softened considerably, but it was tasteless, as was the broth.

“Sarah’s going to have to do this kind of cooking, huh, Grizz. Hers definitely tastes better.”

He stretched his long legs in front of him, crossing them at the ankles, and clasped his hands behind his head, then yawned. Where was he going to sleep? The rocking chair didn’t look too comfortable, and he definitely didn’t want to go into that other room. He suspected that was Sarah’s parents’ bedroom. He shrugged and left the table. Sarah’s bed was large enough for two.

He entered her room quietly. She hadn’t moved from where he left her earlier. He pulled his shirt off, then his moccasins, and slowly lowered himself onto the bed on the opposite side, not wanting to disturb her. He stayed on top of her covers, and pulled a blanket over himself.

He stared at the dark ceiling. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. He’d never actually slept, in the literal sense, in the same bed with a girl before. Sleep had never been a priority on those occasions when he shared a bed with a woman. He listened to Sarah’s slow, rhythmic breathing inches from him, and ground his teeth. As exhausted as he was himself, he knew sleep would be a long time coming.