Into the Wind_A Love Story Read online

  Pushing the needle in and out almost with a vengeance, she pricked her finger and drew in a breath and glanced up to find Lije’s calm eyes upon her. He had marvelous eyes. She looked back down at the blouse and continued to sew. He’d even tried to sew her clothes for her, although she had to admit that she’d reworked the part he’d done because he’d somewhat massacred it, but it was the thought that counted. He’d tried to fix her clothing for her.

  He’d been so courteous and respectful of her even in the delicate situation of removing her clothes and the more she thought about it, the more she appreciated all he’d done for her. It was no wonder he had trouble fending off the local girls and their mothers.

  Lije looked out of the opening of the overhang and contemplated that threatening sky. It was time. He knew it was and yet he hesitated to leave this small portion of the world. They’d been relatively safe here. Once they left, they would be vulnerable, and then she would be out of his life. Even with that, he knew they needed to leave now.

  Brekka was over there fussing about something. He could see it in the nearly militant way she was going about that sewing. That blouse was getting the treatment and he knew she’d stabbed herself a few times in the process. He wished he was familiar enough with her to be able to understand what she was thinking and what was wrong.

  The clouds continued to pile up off to the west and he finally quit puttering with the packs and simply loaded them properly. He set them beside the opening and went out to bring in the horses. When he came back in, Brekka was back in her own clothes and maybe that was a good thing. In spite of it being somewhat worn after her ordeal, it was every bit an elegant lady’s garment and it helped to remind him that she belonged in a world far removed from this desert. With her hair done up and her riding habit back on, she was even more beautiful, despite the lingering cuts and the bruises that had gone from black and blue to greenish yellow.

  She met him at the opening and looked up at him for a long moment before asking, “Are we leaving then?”

  He sighed and nodded. “I know night is coming on, but we need to go ahead of this storm. It will help to hide where we are. It might be an uncomfortable journey, but staying here longer will only endanger you. Do you think you’re up to leaving?”

  Her answer was immediate and it was sure. “I will be fine. I actually love the storms. Although travel will be difficult. Tell me how to help you.” That was exactly the answer he had come to expect of her. She may have been through a rough ordeal, but she was strong. She was incredibly strong.

  He was thinking that even more four hours later when her horse fell as it was slogging through the slick mud of a ravine in the pitch black dark. Brekka first jumped clear and then scrambled up the steep bank to avoid the tumbling horse. It was amazing that she could be so nimble, as sick as she’d been.

  The horse ended up at the bottom of the ravine with a broken neck. Brekka seemed spooked for a moment as Lije worked to free the saddle and gear and stowed it under the edge of some rocks in case he ever got back here, and then she gamely climbed up behind him on the steel dust and they went ahead on their way. He could tell she was frightened because he could feel her trembling as she clung to him as they struggled up the mountain trail. Still, she said nothing of her fear and they simply toiled on.

  In the wee hours of the morning, they topped the western ridgeline with lightning flashing all around them up and down the range, and Lije plunged right back down the other side to get off the heights. Brekka was nearly a dead weight behind him as tired as she was, but she didn’t complain. When the trail leveled somewhat, he had her switch around to ride in front of him where he was able to support her and let her rest against him as they traveled. Even though she was beginning to be wet to the skin in spite of Lars’ slicker, she simply rode on leaning back against him.

  Finally, when the sky was beginning to lighten, they came upon a cave back up off the trail far enough to be somewhat inconspicuous in case someone happened by. Even though the rain hadn’t stopped, Lije walked the big stallion into the cave and carefully slid off the bedraggled horse, then lifted the exhausted girl down without even waking her up. He set her down, pulled off her soaking slicker and then opened out his bedroll and moved her over onto it. Then kneeling beside her, he slipped off her sodden boots and stockings and rubbed her feet to restore some circulation before covering her with a blanket and venturing back out into the rain in search of fuel for a fire.

  Everything under heaven was water logged and it took several minutes before he could even find some protected twigs dry enough to get the fire started. With it finally crackling over the damp wood at the mouth of the cave, he shrugged out of his own slicker, took the saddle off the steel dust and finally sat down and unlaced his own soaking boots that felt like they weighed forty pounds a piece.

  He truly was wet to the skin and dug through his saddle bags for anything drier than what he was now wearing. In his bags, there was exactly one spare shirt and he looked down at Brekka lying there in her wet dress, wishing for Lars’ spare things that he’d had to abandon with the dead horse’s saddle. Finally, he simply took his wet shirt all the way off. He went to stand next to the fire for a few minute’s warmth before going to try to help Brekka into the dry shirt.

  Kneeling beside her, he began to talk to her and rub her shoulder as he began to unbutton her blouse at the neck. It took a while to get through to her and when she finally looked up, her eyes widened at him kneeling there shirtless and then widened even further when she realized he was unbuttoning her blouse.

  She put a hand to her throat and said his name and he looked down at her and rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on, Brekka. I’m far too tired to threaten your virtue. And do you not know by now that I’m not that kind of man? Help me get you dry. Hurry. I’m cold.”

  She took over unbuttoning her blouse as she commented tiredly, “That’s probably because you’re here in a shameless state of undress.”

  Rolling his eyes again, he replied, “Yeah, well, it’s gonna be an even less shameless state of undress if you don’t hurry. Here, I’ll turn my back. Take off everything wet and put on my dry shirt and I’ll hang the wet stuff by the fire. Hurry or you’ll get even colder. And then put that saddle blanket down under your blankets. It’s already warm from Jefferson and was protected by the saddle from the rain and is dry. It will help.”

  He turned around and then after a minute she said, “Okay, it’s safe now. Would that be less shameless or more shameless? Or maybe less shameful. How did you mean that?” He turned back around and she held out a handful of clothing with the blanket pulled up around her. As he took the clothing and turned, he really raised his eye brows when he realized she had taken her stuff off right down to the skin as well.

  She’d completely rattled him and he couldn’t understand the question. “Uh, what did you ask?” He began to try to hang the wet under things on the pile of wood and accidentally dropped something white and lacy into the dirt beside the flames.

  Glancing quickly back at her, he made a dive for the unmentionable and tried to brush the sandy residue off as she laughed at him from under her blanket. “I asked what you meant by that comment?”

  Another small garment slipped out of his hand and landed almost in the fire and he yanked it back up guiltily. “What comment? I don’t remember any comment.”

  “Something about a less shameless state of undress.”

  He rolled his eyes yet again as he tried to get the small pieces of clothing to drape over the wood. “You’re the one who said anything about my shameless state of undress. I’m just the one in the shameless state of undress.” He finally got all of her things to hang from the wood. “Is there anything else you want dried?”

  She shook her head, but he only caught a slight movement out of the corner of his eye and turned back to her. “There’s only one stocking.”

  For a moment she looked confused. “What?”

  “There’s only one stocking. W
hat happened to your other stocking?” She looked from him to the slap dash clothes line near the fire and then back and finally seemed to understand what he was saying. Pulling up her blanket, she fished around under it for a moment and then held out the other stocking.

  “Here you go.”

  Taking the soggy item, he gave her a slight bow. “Why thank you, Milady. I’ve always hoped to someday acquire one of these.” Tossing the late coming stocking toward the wood, he took the remaining blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders. “Okay, now don’t look. I have to get out of these trousers.” He could hardly speak for his chattering teeth and he was surprised to hear her laugh behind him. What had gotten into her tonight? Or was it this morning? He glanced back out of the cave into the rain and decided that it was indeed finally morning. Lack of sleep and bone chilling cold seemed to make her giggly.

  He unbuttoned his pants and then tried to peel them off, but the wet fabric was sticking to his skin and he had to struggle to get them to move. He finally got them down to below his knees, but then they stuck even worse and he had to try to balance on one foot to peel the uncooperative things off. With them tangled around his foot, he lost his balance and had to hop one footed to finish pulling that leg off and then nearly fell as he hopped when the next one stuck as well. He could hear her behind him, trying to stifle her giggles and he shook his head. What in the world had gotten into her?

  When the pants finally pulled free, he shook them to dislodge the odd sand that stuck to them where they’d dragged on the floor in his hopping and at that, Brekka squealed and ducked her head under her blanket to avoid the flying sand. She dissolved into completely uncontrolled giggling as Lije just shook his head at her again and tried to wipe the sand from between his toes before trying to figure out where he was going to be able to sleep in the small cave.

  He finally decided to try to move some of the wood around to make room, then found that was a mistake as more of Brekka’s lingerie hit the dirt and he had to pick them up and shake them as well. At length, he moved the saddle one way and the horse the other, wrapped up in the blanket and then threw himself down on the sandy floor between the horse and the fire. Pulling the saddle to where he could put his head on it, he put his gun belt beside it. At least being cold and uncomfortable would keep him from sleeping too soundly in case the Utes were around.

  He sighed and then stretched out and turned on his side. The blanket didn’t quite cover his feet very well. He tried to maneuver it to wrap around them, then gave up and sighed again and whispered, “Good night, Brekka.”

  She laughed again as she replied, “Good night, Elijah.”

  At that, he raised his head and looked down at her where she lay near his feet. “Elijah? What’s gotten into you, Brekka? Are you always this much of a lunatic when you haven’t had enough sleep?”

  “I’m not entirely sure. I usually get enough sleep, but then being called a lunatic isn’t truly unusual for me either.”

  He grinned into the dark. “Go to sleep, you little loco weed.”

  For a couple of minutes the cave was silent save for the crackle of the fire, but then Brekka asked quietly out of the darkness, “Are you ticklish, Lije?”

  He groaned right out loud without opening his eyes. “Don’t you dare.” That made her laugh again.

  After another few moments of silence she asked tiredly, “Who in the world names a perfectly respectable horse Jefferson?” This time it was Lije who laughed.

  Lije was sleeping like the dead when something made him startle awake. He reached for the pistol that rested on the sand beside his head and then listened to see what had wakened him.

  It was Brekka. She’d gotten out of bed and was moving her under things to replenish the fire. In the firelight, with her hair loose around her and wearing only his flannel shirt that didn’t even come to her knees, she looked like a fairytale creature of some sort. A very long legged fairytale creature and he couldn’t help himself as he watched her, even though she wasn’t properly dressed. She was an incredibly beautiful girl. He smiled into the dark as he remembered how funny she had been when they’d laid down.

  She built up the flames and then carefully turned all of their clothing around so it could dry on the other side and then went back toward her bed. She stopped beside the horse on her way and reached up to pet him as he pushed his head toward her. Lije chuckled softly when she whispered, “G’night, Jeffy.”

  She spun and looked at Lije, drew in a quick breath and jumped into her bed, and he laughed again and mumbled, “Now would that be more shameless? Or less shameful? How did you mean that?”

  One other time he woke when she replenished the fire, and then the third time, when he woke up she was fully dressed as she stoked it and then began digging in the saddle bags for the food he’d packed there. It was another morning of dried meat and gritty water before they moved out, but at least this morning there was the hope of something better soon. The nearest town was only about thirty miles away from here if Lije figured it correctly.

  She went out of the cave and he got up and pulled on his pants while she was gone, wondering if she was still going to be in a silly mood this morning. He pulled on his stockings and boots and was lacing them up as she came back inside, and then he pulled on the flannel shirt she’d discarded. As he slipped it on, he caught a whiff of her scent and he paused and breathed it in. How could she still smell good when she’d been living like this for this long?

  He tucked the shirt in and strapped on his gun belt, its weight reassuring there in the half light of the storm. Today they would be traveling across relatively barren ground between the mountains and the town of Monroe. Hopefully, they’d left the Utes long on the other side of the mountain, but the weight of that gun felt good there on his hip anyway.

  When they’d eaten their meager meal, he finished packing their gear and then helped her pull Lars’ slicker back over her head as he reassured her. “We’ll probably end up soaked again, but at least hopefully, we’ll find ourselves a hot bath and a real bed at the end of the trip. We’re one very long day’s ride from a small hotel. We’ll get there in the middle of the night, but we’ll get there.”

  He got on the big stallion and reached down to help her on behind him and then wondered if in truth he wasn’t actually glad that the other horse had been killed. He’d never had a girl riding double with him this way and decided it was a wonderful way to travel.

  Toward evening, he could feel her begin to drag again and he had her ride in front once more so she could sleep against him. It didn’t take much to discern that she was still weak and run down from her fever when you really looked at her. If there had been somewhere safe and dry to stop, and if he hadn’t promised her a hotel, he would have stopped short of the town that night just so she could rest sooner.

  It was long after midnight when they finally made it to the hotel and he helped her down. He’d been unsure of what to tell the clerk as he signed in, but the clerk made it easy when he tiredly but cheerfully mentioned that this was their last available room. Lije signed for it and took Brekka up the stairs and was immensely grateful when he saw the two single beds. He really hadn’t wanted to sleep on the board floor tonight.

  He helped her in and took a knee to help her off with her boots and then left her there while he took the stallion two doors down to the livery. As late as it was, that big horse deserved some real rest as well as they did.

  When Lije came back in five minutes later, she was already asleep with her wet clothes over the chair. He gratefully sank down onto the soft bed and began to unlace his boots. They weren’t home free, but they almost were. If she was up to another long day tomorrow, they could make it all the way to his ranch and rest up for a day or two before he began to search around to see how her friends had ended up.

  With his gun belt over the bed post, he took his shirt off, glanced over to make sure she was asleep and then peeled his pants off again, threw back the covers and climbed into the s
mooth, soft sheets with a sigh of pleasure. It had been since his family had traveled across the plains in a wagon train in forty nine when he was eight years old that he’d gone this long without a real bed. He would never look at one the same again in his life.

  Lije slept luxuriously late the next day but Brekka was still asleep when he got up and redressed in his rumpled and dirty clothes. He went down and asked for a bath to be brought up to her while he went out to get a haircut and a shave and find them some new clean clothing. He’d been to the barber’s and was walking into the general store when he ran into none other than Sister Orland from Rock Creek with both of her daughters. Apparently they’d come there to visit relatives.

  They seemed thrilled to see him and went on about how the whole town of Rock Creek was debating over whether he’d been killed or not and Sister Orland emphasized how grateful she was that he had been preserved so he could at least get married before going the way of the earth. It took him more than twenty minutes just to make it to the counter of the mercantile to see about the clothing.

  It never crossed his mind that he’d need to worry about appearances after all he and Brekka had been through, but by the way Sister Orland’s mouth dropped open as he purchased Brekka some new clothing, he decided right away that maybe he’d better start worrying. The plump matronly woman fairly created a scene about the very idea that he’d been with a female all this time.

  Ten minutes earlier, Sister Orland had spoken of the girl he’d rescued as “that poor, poor girl”. Now, after realizing Lije was still with her, Sister Orland wasn’t appearing to be nearly so sympathetic. A half hour later when he came down into the hotel dining room with a clean and newly outfitted, tired but beautiful Danish girl, Sister Orland had deteriorated to flat out critical.

  Even for the real bed and the bath and good food, Brekka was obviously beat. Lije tried to insist that they stay in Monroe another night before heading back toward Rock Creek, but Brekka simply shook her head and said no. He asked her why and she was honest when she told him that she knew their appearance here in this town together had started tongues wagging and that they should move on. Disgusted beyond words with the Orland women, Lije insisted that at the very least Brekka have the local doctor see to the bullet wound in her back.