Wayward Wind (10 page)

Her confidence shook Dunbar. Suddenly he had no doubt that she’d try to kill him. It was in her voice and in the unwinking
gaze that never left his face. In order to cover the unease that gripped him, he threw back his head and laughed.

“We got us a little ole spittin’ wildcat here, fellers.” He turned to include the men behind him.

One of the men snickered nervously. “She might scratch ya, Dunbar.”

“The yellow belly’s hidin’ behind his woman’s skirts,” Dunbar sneered. “Are ya agoin’ to make me hurt this purty little thin’,
nester? Or are ya agoin’ to step out ’n take what ya got acomin’ like a man?”

“Stay where you are, Griff. This stupid piece of horse dung is scared I’m going to kill him, and he’s trying to cover it with
big talk so he won’t look so foolish. Don’t let him goad you into playing into his hands.”

Her words stung Dunbar. “Move in!” he yelled to the men behind him. “I come to get that bastard, by Gawd, ’n no split-tail
woman’s astandin’ in my way.”

“Hold on, Dunbar. I ain’t ashootin’ no woman.”

“Gawddamn you, Barrett! I ain’t a askin’ ya to shoot ’er! Shoot that thievin’ bastard ahidin’ behind ’er.”

Lorna could hear Griffin gasping as he tried to stand erect. “Can you move along the wall to the door, Griff?” There was no
answer, so she said, “Just hold on then. The longer they stay the more chance they’ve got of getting the smallpox.”

“We ort a get outta here,” Fisher complained.

“Ya chicken shit! We can’t get no smallpox from out here. Ya agoin’ to let the likes a her keep us from acarryin’ out the
old man’s orders? He said hang the bastard, but he’ll settle for us shootin’ him.”

On the perimeter of her vision Lorna saw movement on the flat grassy trail leading to the cabin. Her eyes flicked from Dunbar’s
face for the merest instant and then back again. A rider was coming in on a buckskin. It had to be Cooper! He was riding hard.
Any second the men would hear the pounding hoofs of the horse coming at full gallop. Lorna saw the two men start their move
to flank her and Griffin. She took a long, deep breath to steady herself, threw back her head and let the wild, piercing cry
burst from her throat again.

“Wah-eee… hoo-oo! Wah-eee… hoo-oo!”

The unexpected sound had the same effect on the men that it had before. They seemed stunned.

“What’s she adoin’ that for?” Fisher asked when he recovered from his surprise.

Dunbar seemed at a loss for words. His face turned a beefy red when he saw the slow smile stretch Lorna’s lips. The pressure
of her stare unnerved him. For an endless moment he stood staring dumbly at the cold-eyed girl.

Lorna threw her voice out again in full volume.

“Shut up that gawdamned caterwaulin’!” he yelled.

“Make me,” Lorna yelled at the top of her voice. “Come on, you bush-bottomed, muddle-headed, son of a buzzard, make a move.
I want to see if I can hit the third button on that filthy shirt.”

“Dunbar! Someone’s acomin’!”

Lorna saw the muscles along Dunbar’s jaw round into hard knots. She watched him closely, ready to do what had to be done.

Dunbar glared into cold, dark blue eyes and realized with shock that the woman was going to fight him. He’d have to shoot
her, and if word got out he’d shot a woman he’d have to leave the territory.

“Who is it?”

“I dunno. He’s aridin’ a buckskin.”

“Hold ’em off till we get our prisoner,” he yelled over his shoulder, and then to Lorna, “We’ll take him to the law, ma’am.
He’ll get a trial.”

“To the law? Hell, Dunbar, ya know there—”

“Gawddamn ya, Fisher, shut up! Ya ’n Barrett do as I tell ya!”

Lorna kept her eyes steadily on Dunbar’s, but she could tell by the sound of the hoofbeats that Cooper was almost there.

There was the sharp crack of a rifle and dirt flew up in front of Dunbar’s feet. He feel back and Lorna saw Cooper come riding
at him full speed. Dunbar turned to the side and saw the horse bearing down on him. He lifted his arm to fire the gun and
the knife shot from Lorna’s hand with deadly accuracy, sinking into his upper arm. He yelled in pain and surprise. He dropped
the gun and yanked the dagger from his flesh. Lorna darted in and swooped up Dunbar’s gun. Holding it in both hands she pointed
it at Fisher.

The buckskin horse reared, pivoted on its hind legs, and lunged for Barrett. Cooper struck him on the side of the head with
the rifle and the man went down under the hooves of his frightened horse.

“I’m abackin’ off,” Fisher yelled as he jerked his gun from its holster and threw it on the ground.

When Cooper’s feet struck the ground his gun was in his hand. “Goddamn you, Dunbar. I’ve had about all of you I can stomach!”

“The bitch cut me!”

“You’re lucky she didn’t kill you. She can pin a fly to the wall with that knife.” There was a glimmer of pride in Cooper’s
angry voice. He picked up Fisher’s gun and tossed it out into the creek, then went to where Lorna was bending over Griffin.
He had slumped down to sit with his back to the wall. “You hurt bad?”

“I’ve had worse.”

“Now, looky here.” Dunbar was holding his hand over the wound in his arm. “Ya ain’t got no right to butt in. Yore ole man
told me—”

Cooper’s fist flew out and slammed into Dunbar’s mouth with such force that it almost lifted him off the ground before he
fell heavily. Cooper stood over him in a half crouch, his face contorted with burning rage.

“You’re within a second of dying. If you mention me in the same breath as that old sonofabitch again, I’ll kill you.”

It was no idle threat. The expression in Parnell’s blazing, blue eyes told him so. Terror clamped icy fingers around Dunbar’s
throat, pinching off his voice so that it came out thin and high. “How’d I know—”

“You knew, damn you. Everybody in the territory knows I despise that old man’s guts. Now, you haul your ass out of here while
you’ve got an ass to haul.”

“I come to get that nester. He’s a horse thief. I hung him and that… split-tail cut him down.”

“She had nothing to do with it.
I
cut him down, you dumb sonofabitch. I ought to horsewhip you for what you did to him.” Cooper felt an almost uncontrollable
rage rising within. “He works for me and if you, or any of the horseshit that works for that old man, even looks cross-eyed
at him, you’ll answer to me. Is that understood?”

Dunbar got to his feet. “That’s a tall order fer one man to be agivin’,” he said cockily, trying to salvage his pride.

“Is there something you want to do about it, Dunbar?”

“I ain’t in no shape to be adoin’ anythin’ about it… now. But there’ll be a time—”

“Any time is fine with me.”

“I ain’t afergettin’ that woman sunk a knife in me.”

“You’d better forget it, if you want to live.”

Dunbar felt those blue eyes stabbing into him and he realized how dangerous Cooper Parnell could be. Fear touched him.

“C’mon,” Fisher urged. “Let’s get outta here. If’n ya mess with him that ol’ man’ll have yore ass in a sling. Ya know what
he done told ya ’bout that.”

Dunbar took the handkerchief from around his neck and gave it to Fisher. “Shut up and tie up my arm.” When they were mounted
and ready to ride out, he called, “Ya ain’t heard the last of this, Parnell.”

“I hope not.” Cooper watched them ride away, then went to where Lorna was trying to get Griffin to his feet. “Here, let me
do that.”

“Let’s get him inside so I can tend to him. He’s bleeding badly.” She spoke calmly, breathing hard from her exertions.

Cooper picked Griffin up in his arms.

“I can still navigate by myself,” Griffin protested weakly as Cooper carried him into the cabin.

Bonnie was half-sitting, half-leaning against the wall. Weak tears streaked her face. “Is he dead?”

“Hell, no, I ain’t dead!” Griffin tried to cover his embarrassment with bluster. “I’m just arestin’ while I bleed to death.”

Cooper eased him down on the pallet and Lorna knelt beside him, cutting away his shirt with her knife. With a competence born
of long practice, she dabbed at the bloody wound with a cloth, studied it, then laid several thicknesses of the cloth over
it.

“The bullet went through, but there’s a bit of your shirt in there, Griff. I’ll have to get it out.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m obliged for what yo’re adoin’ ’n to ya for what ya done. I sure do hate it that I brought my trouble down
on ya. They was dead set to hang me—”

“It was my fault, Griff. I went to sleep and let them sneak up on us.”

“You sure as shootin’ bluffed ole Dunbar.”

“It was no bluff,” Lorna said quietly. “I was set to kill him if he raised the gun.”

“Ya’d… a done it?” Griffin asked in a breathy whisper.

“Yes. I would’ve killed him before I let him shoot you down.” She said it with no inflection at all. “We’re beholden to Mr.
Parnell. I was sure of Dunbar, but I didn’t know about the other two.” She stood and looked up at him. “How did you know I
was calling you?”

“I knew.”

Their eyes met and held. She nodded, gripped by a sudden shyness. The eyes looking so intently into hers were the bright blue
of summer skies. For a moment they were enclosed in a timeless world, seeming to come close to each other, spirit moving effortlessly
toward spirit.

“I’m beholden to you, too, for keeping Dunbar from shooting me,” Cooper said.

A smile crinkled the corners of his eyes and brightened a face that needed a shave and was streaked with dirt and sweat. Suddenly,
to Lorna, it was a dear, familiar face, and she longed to place her palms on his cheeks and lean against his strength. Her
answering smile lighted her brilliant, violet-blue eyes until they shone like stars.

“It was what I was supposed to do,” she murmured for his ears alone.

He nodded, and she thought how strange it was that they understood each other. It was as if they spoke a language other people
didn’t know.

“You’re the spunkiest woman I ever met. You’ll have to teach me how to throw a knife.”

“I will, if you’ll lend me yours. I’ll need it to get the cloth out of Griffin’s wounds.”

Cooper handed her the knife, then watched as she carefully wiped it on a clean cloth and placed it, alongside hers, on a stone
beside the fire so that the tip was in the flame. She allowed the blades to heat for several minutes and then removed them
and waved them in the air so that they cooled quickly. She fascinated Cooper as no human being had ever done before. He saw
her tighten her lips grimly; she didn’t relish her task, but went at it, confidently picking the fragments of cloth from the
wound by pinching them between the tips of the two blades.

From her bent position beside Griffin, Lorna asked, “Cooper, will you bring the pan of hot water?”

Cooper.
It was the first time she had spoken his name. A strong, unidentifiable emotion set his hands trembling as he poured water
from the teakettle into the pan. He set it on the floor beside her. He felt so right being with her, working with her.

Then a thought struck him like a blow between the eyes.
He was acting like a lovesick fool!
He didn’t know anything about this woman, and even if he did, there was no room for a woman in his life right now. Hell,
he was almost a hundred miles from home. Home was a horse ranch where he had all he could do to scratch out a living for himself
and his mother. This woman who so completely dominated his thoughts had a family somewhere in these mountains. She might even
have a husband, he reasoned, but he was sure she didn’t. Lorna had had no man.

He heard a gasp of agony come from the young nester, and Lorna’s soothing words. The sounds reached him through the heavy
fog of his troubled thoughts. He looked down to see Bonnie reach for Griffin’s hand and grip it hard. With tightly closed
eyes, and jaws clenched in pain, he grasped her hand as if it were a lifeline in a storm. Her eyes looked like two burnt holes
in a blanket and her face was filled with compassion. Even in her miserable condition she felt pity for his suffering. A disturbing
realization hit Cooper—regardless of who and what you were, everyone needed someone.

Lorna spent the afternoon caring for the two who lay in the cabin on the straw pallet. Cooper dressed the meat and roasted
it over a fire he built behind the cabin. Watchfulness was a habit of a lifetime, so periodically he circled the cabin and
scanned the area. He didn’t think Dunbar would be so foolish as to come back, but the man had suffered a blow to his pride
and sooner or later he’d seek revenge.

Griffin needed frequent naps because of his weakened condition, and whenever he woke he apologized again for the bother he
was causing. Cooper waited for him to mention the fact that he was kin to Adam Clayhill, the news Dunbar had dropped, but
Griffin said nothing; Cooper began to hope he had missed the meaning of Dunbar’s words.

After the evening meal of beans and fresh elk meat, Cooper led the horses to water and then staked them out in the knee-high
grass to eat. He took clean clothes from his saddlebag and followed the rocky bank of the creek until he was out of sight
of the cabin. Behind a screen of wild plum bushes he stripped off his grimy clothes, knelt beside the stream and washed them.
Then he washed himself and pulled on the clean buckskins, picked up his wet clothes and went back upstream toward the cabin.

He was hanging his wet clothes on the bushes to dry when Lorna came out of the cabin. Cooper watched her approach. The evening
light gave her skin a honeyed look against which her eyes were more brilliantly violet-blue than ever. The effortless grace
with which she moved, the lightness of her step, fascinated him. She was beautiful to watch. She had loosened her hair from
the thongs and it lay on her shoulders and flowed down her back. The breeze fluttered the dark curls about her face and pressed
the loose cloth shirt against her slender figure, revealing the lovely curves of her breasts. For a fleeting moment Cooper
was reminded of a verse from the “Song of Solomon”:

Behold, thou are fair, my love…
thy two breasts are like young roes that are
twins, which feed among the lilies.