Lake in the Clouds (89 page)

“I’m not running from him,” Hannah said, drawing back in surprise.

“That’s what it look like to me. You don’t even know what lies Jemima been telling, and you ready to bolt. From Jemima Southern, of all people. From Baldy O’Brien.” She looked as if she wanted to spit.

Hannah sent Strikes-the-Sky a questioning look, but his expression was unreadable.

“I am not running from Jemima Southern,” Hannah said. “Or from anybody else. I have no reason to run, I have done nothing wrong. I never thought of running away. It’s your son who came up with that idea.” She cast a glance in Bump’s direction, but if he was surprised by this revelation he showed no sign of it.

Neither did it slow Curiosity down. “Just ’cause Manny is my son don’t mean he cain’t be pure stupid at times. Look at all the trouble he stirred up while I was gone, sneaking around and tying people up and poking at Jemima Southern until she lost what little bit she had left of her mind. If he was here I’d be mighty tempted to turn him over my knee. Don’t you listen to those hotheaded men, girl. You stand and fight.”

Hannah had intended just that, but Curiosity’s sudden insistence made her hackles rise. “Why should I?” Hannah shot back. “Why should I give O’Brien the satisfaction? I might as well leave now.”

“Lordy, you can be slow at times, child. Don’t you see? If you run then you giving Jemima what she want. You will never be able to come back home without sneaking around, hoping she don’t call the law out on you again. You going to
give her that kind of power over you?” She reached out and took Hannah’s hand. More softly she said, “Don’t you give her that, Hannah Bonner. Don’t you run.”

There was a persistent rapping at the door.

“I’ll bet that’s O’Brien now,” said Curiosity, jumping up with all the energy of a sixteen-year-old girl. “Come to a house in mourning to do Jemima Southern’s dirty business.”

Strikes-the-Sky got up to follow her as she marched down the hall but Hannah stopped him with a hand on his forearm. “Don’t make this worse than it already is,” she said to him in her own language. “Don’t give him an excuse to arrest you too. Let Curiosity talk.”

He cupped her face in his hand. “Walks-Ahead,” he said. “I know not to get in the way of a bear protecting her young.”

To prove his point the sound of Curiosity’s voice rose in the hall, sharp as claws.

“We better go rescue poor Mr. O’Brien,” said Bump. “Before she really gets started.”

Judge O’Brien was a soft lump of a man with a small pink circle of a face stuck dead center in a maze of hair. It radiated out from his scalp in a white halo and from his chin in a grizzled gray fan, interrupted only by two very pink earlobes that peeked out when he tilted his head a certain way. His head was tilted now, and his face flushed red with indignation. From what Hannah knew of him he did not like to be challenged, most especially not by a woman. A little man with a big picture of himself, tenacious as a mule and inflexible as rock.

A rock who seemed to be encountering Curiosity Freeman in a temper for the first time.

“You got no business here,” she was saying to him in a harsh whisper. “If you want to speak to Miss Bonner you will just have to wait till she got time to come see you.”

“I will see Hannah Bonner now,” huffed O’Brien, stepping back from an advancing Curiosity and clutching his hat to his chest. “And if I feel it’s necessary I will take her with me to Johnstown to be tried there. You cannot thwart the law because you don’t like what it says, missus.”

Just then he caught sight of Hannah and Strikes-the-Sky standing behind her. Hannah might have laughed at his expression
—satisfaction followed quickly by shock and plain fear—if the situation had not been so dire.

“Miss Bonner,” he said, drawing himself up to his full height. He cast Curiosity a triumphant look. “As duly appointed circuit judge—”

“She’s not going anywhere, O’Brien.” Richard’s voice boomed down the stairs so unexpectedly that they all jumped.

“Dr. Todd,” said the little man, thrusting out his chest as far as it would go, but then glancing nervously first at Curiosity and then at Strikes-the-Sky. “I’m here on official business, but I sure didn’t mean to disturb you, sir.”

“Then why the hell are you pounding on my door at sunrise!” Richard thundered.

O’Brien’s cheeks paled while his nose turned a deeper shade of red. “Doctor, this young woman is evading the law.” He nodded in Hannah’s direction. “A complaint has been sworn out against her. She can’t just ignore it.”

Richard came down the stairs slowly, his expression so deadly calm that Hannah felt the hair rise on the nape of her neck. O’Brien seemed to feel just the same way, because he took another step back and bumped into the door.

“She’s been evading you?” Richard said softly. “Evading you?”

O’Brien swallowed visibly and nodded. “She knows I was looking for her. Didn’t I issue a notice, right and proper? Took it to her door too, but would she show herself? And on top of that I almost got shot for my trouble. Nobody is above the law, Dr. Todd.”

“You miserable worm,” Richard began in a conversational tone. Bump drew in a harsh breath and Curiosity put a hand to her mouth to cover a smile, but O’Brien’s gaze was fixed on Richard and he took in nothing else.

“You smug, insignificant, nearsighted fool. Did you think she was out dancing? Did no one tell you that there’s an epidemic in this village?”

O’Brien winced. “Well, yes.”

“And you’re aware that Miss Bonner is a doctor?”

The little man frowned. “I know she claims that title for herself.”

Richard said, “Are you challeging my word and opinion on a matter of medicine, Mr. O’Brien?”

“I guess not,” he said slowly.

“You guess not.”

“No, then. I won’t challenge you on that.”

“At last, some hope. Now listen to me. Scarlet fever has killed five people in the last five days. Without proper medical attention it would have killed more. It still may. And you stand there and claim that in your learned opinion a
summons”
—his mouth worked as if he wanted very much to spit—“is more important than the lives of the people of Paradise. Do I understand you correctly?”

The color flooded back into O’Brien’s face. “Last night—” And he stopped cold as Richard took another step toward him.

“Last night while you were emptying tankards at the tavern Miss Bonner was upstairs, keeping watch—” For the first time Richard’s voice broke as cleanly and simply as an eggshell. “At my wife’s deathbed.”

His shoulders slumped as he turned away. “Get out,” he said. “Get out now.”

O’Brien blinked convulsively, but he didn’t move until the sound of a door closing came to them. Then he slumped, his eyes darting nervously from Strikes-the-Sky to Curiosity.

Curiosity said, “Judge O’Brien, let me give you some advice. Don’t come around here talking about dragging our Hannah off to Johnstown. There’s other ways to get your business taken care of.” She glanced at Hannah. “Ain’t that so?”

Will you stand and fight?

They were looking at her, all of them. Judge O’Brien with a doubtful expression, and Curiosity with a hopeful one. Hannah felt Strikes-the-Sky’s hand on her shoulder, the simple strength in him.

She said, “I will come to the village tonight at seven to answer the charges against me. You have my word.”

“There,” said Curiosity with a grim smile. “Now that’s my girl.”

Curiosity sent Bump to Lake in the Clouds with the news of Kitty’s death and Hannah’s appointment with Judge O’Brien, and then she put together a bundle of food and pressed it into Strikes-the-Sky’s hands.

“You make sure she eats,” she said solemnly, holding on to him longer than was necessary. “That’s your job now, looking after her. She surely won’t look after herself.”

Hannah said, “You needn’t grin at each other as if you’re keeping some great secret from me. I am standing right here, and I see very well what you’re up to.”

“You hush,” Curiosity said, flapping a hand at her. “This is between your man and me. Now this is what I want you to do, Strikes-the-Sky You take Hannah and you go find a place where she can rest. Don’t take her home to Lake in the Clouds, you hear me? I don’t want my Manny or the rest of them bothering her none. Best she stay away from Elizabeth for a while too, or she’ll worry the hair right off her head, you know she won’t be able to help herself.”

As much as Hannah wanted to protest she had to smile at that picture.

“It’s going to be a fine day. Take her up the mountain someplace pretty and see to it she don’t go running off to tend to nobody else for one day at least. You know what I’m telling you?”

“Yes,” Strikes-the-Sky said. “I know.”

“Good. The girl got to rest so she’ll be ready to settle things with Jemima Southern once and for all. And then you two got a long journey in front of you.”

Hannah went to Curiosity and put her head on the old woman’s thin shoulder. “Not today,” she said, her voice muffled. “Not yet.”

“Not yet,” Curiosity agreed, patting her back.

Hannah was taken by the sudden need to sit down here in the familiar kitchen and never go anywhere again.

“What about Richard and Ethan?”

“We got to let them sit with her a while,” Curiosity said. “You know that. It’ll be tomorrow before they can leave her go.”

“The LeBlancs,” Hannah said, close to tears and furious with herself for it. “And the Ratz girls. I said I’d call.”

“There ain’t nobody at death’s door right now.” Curiosity held her away so that she could look into her face. “Let me look after things, child. You got your own life to tend to.”

On a high meadow that gave them the whole world, weariness and sorrow came over Hannah. She sat down heavily on
an outcropping of stone and lay back with an arm over her eyes. Hot tears sprang up and ran over her face like rain.

Strikes-the-Sky sat nearby. He had no words to offer but Hannah was glad of his presence and mortified too, that she should lose control of herself so completely.

When there were no more tears left she drew in a shuddering breath and held it as long as she could, until her body quieted and she could hear the world around her. In the pines nearby siskins squabbled, and just below that the faraway sound of the falls. Strikes-the-Sky made no noise at all and Hannah was convinced, very suddenly, that he had left her here to weep.

She sat up, ready to be furious or hurt or both, and found him sitting cross-legged in front of her.

“Food,” he said, holding out some of Curiosity’s bread.

Hannah hadn’t realized she was hungry, or how good fresh bread could taste on a hot summer’s day. She ate the things he passed her, cold meat and new radishes from the garden, sharp on her tongue.

“What is this?” He was looking at a bundle of parsley with a doubtful expression.

“Chew on it,” Hannah said. “It cleans your mouth and makes your breath sweet.” And she blushed, realizing as she spoke that sending parsley along was Curiosity’s way of teasing her. Strikes-the-Sky didn’t understand or chose not to, but he did as she suggested.

“There’s a stream,” Hannah said, pointing. “And shade, to sleep.” And ran ahead, uneasy with him suddenly, this stranger, this man she had promised herself to. He followed her, quick and silent, winding through the pines until they found the stream where they both drank. It was a cool place where the light came through the firs and pines to play on the water. Moss-covered rocks and deep beds of old pine needles, and overhead the chittering call of squirrels.

“A good place,” Strikes-the-Sky said. He slipped the rifle sling off around his head and put it down carefully. Next to that he piled his powder horn and bullet sack, the pouch he wore around his neck and his knife sheath, until he stood there unarmed.

When he began to pull his hunting shirt over his head
Hannah said, “What are you doing?” in a voice so sharp that he paused and looked at her.

“I’m going to sleep, right here.” He pointed with his chin to the ground. “I kept watch all night. You should sleep too, unless you had something else in mind.”

His grin infuriated her. She turned her back on him and lay down, brought her knees up to her chin, and wrapped her arms around herself.

She would teach him, someday, that she was not to be trifled with. Hannah made that vow to herself, and then she fell asleep.

He woke her when the sun was high above them and the forest shimmered with heat, even here by the water.

“Your people will want to see you before it is time to go meet O’Brien.” He was crouched next to her, his hunting shirt in one hand and his bare chest damp with sweat. She made herself look away, but she couldn’t ignore the smell of him or the feelings that rose up from deep in her belly.

She sat up. “Yes. All right.”

And still they stayed just like that, close enough to touch and not touching until he reached out with two fingers and brushed her hair. “Pine needles,” he said, and she watched the muscles flex in his throat when he swallowed.

With a low sound he came closer, using his whole hand now to brush her hair free of dirt and needles, and she let him. She might have taken his wrist and pushed him away but she didn’t want to, not really. What she wanted to do, wanted so much that the urge was almost impossible to resist, was to put her face to the curve where his shoulder met his neck so that she could draw in his smells.

“Walks-Ahead,” he said, so close now that she felt his breath stir her hair.

She turned her face to him and opened her mouth to ask him
What?
and he kissed her, as she knew he would, as she wanted him to. A gentle kiss, soft and softer still. Nothing like the rough kisses of last night but with a power of their own. She put her hands on his chest, smooth and hard, the muscles fluttering under her palms. He pulled her to him and closed his arms around her.

For a long time they knelt together on the forest floor
while he cradled her to him and kissed her mouth and she kissed him back, learning the shape of him and the taste and the touch of his tongue. She had not imagined that a kiss could be something so potent, to draw her out of herself this way. To make her want so furiously that no matter how hard she pressed herself to him it was not enough.