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

“You have never been in these mountains before, have you?” She was perceptive, too.

Chase shook his head. “I’m from L.A. I had no idea people still live like this, even in Montana.” That still didn’t explain her reference to warriors. Was she talking about actual Indians? Or some sort of road warriors, like a motorcycle gang.

“L . . . A?”

A wide smile spread across his face. Boy, was she backwoods.

“Yeah. Los Angeles. Big city. No mountains and rivers. I’m definitely out of my element here.”

“How did you get lost along the
E-chee-dick-karsh-ah-shay
?”

“The what?”

“The Roche Jaune . . .Yellow Rock River.”

Comprehension dawned. “You mean the Yellowstone River?  Some buddies and I were camping in the canyon. The next morning, they were gone. I climbed out and apparently got lost looking for the road back to Canyon.” No need to go into detail with her that he was drunk out of his mind the night before, or that his buddies had deliberately pulled a vanishing act on him.

“You climbed out from the canyon? How did you get down there?” Her eyes grew round in disbelief.

“Same way I came up, Angel. I know that wasn’t the smartest thing to do. I’ll probably get in a heap of trouble for it.”

Chase’s stomach growled loudly. The little angel must have heard it. She made a wide arc around him to the workbench along the wall, and reached for a bowl on a wooden shelf above her head, giving him an enticing view of her backside.
Knock it off, Russell. Get your mind out of the gutter
.

She ladled soup into the bowl from the kettle in the fireplace, and set it in front of him along with a spoon.  He looked up and met her eyes.

“Do you have a name?” she asked softly.

“I’m sorry. My name’s Chase.”

A smile spread across her pretty face, and he suppressed a groan. Then she giggled. “That’s an odd name. What do you chase?”

He couldn’t help but smile in return.  “Uh . . . I don’t know. No one’s ever asked me that before.”

“I’m Sarah. I will forgive your behavior earlier.  Now eat, before it gets cold . . . Chase.”  He stared after her dumbfounded after she’d turned and headed up that ladder into the loft.

“Thank you,” he said quietly to the empty space she had occupied moments before, and spooned broth into his mouth. It tasted as simple and earthy as everything around him, but he’d never eaten anything better in his life.

Chapter 5

Sarah rummaged through the heavy wooden trunk in the corner of the loft.  Her brother Samuel wouldn’t mind if she loaned some of his clothing to this stranger. They were probably close enough in size. Samuel had always been bigger than her twin brothers, Zach and Matt.

Chase. What an odd name. But she liked the way it sounded when he said it. For his size, he didn’t seem so intimidating after all. True, he had been extremely rude earlier when he pulled her onto the bed, but she’d had no trouble fending him off, and he certainly hadn’t put up any kind of fight. Perhaps he was still too weak. Something told her that she had nothing to fear from this man.

His strange words and the way he spoke were peculiar. Sarah only knew one other person who used words no one else seemed to know. Her mother. But this man had said he was from a big city. Her mother had grown up in a big city as well. Sarah had never been further east than St. Louis, and that suited her just fine. Her parents had suggested they travel to New York one year, to see her mother’s place of birth. If New York was anything like St. Louis or Fort Raymond, she had no interest in going. She enjoyed her life in the mountains. She had enough friends among the Tukudeka women that she never felt lonely. She did miss her brothers, though. It seemed as if they stayed away longer each year.

Sarah heard a scraping noise below. Chase must have gotten up from the table.

“Uh . . . Sarah,” he called.

“Just a moment.” She grabbed a blue flannel shirt from the trunk and climbed back down the ladder. When she turned, he was standing next to the table, his face rather devoid of color.

“You should lie down,” she said. Walking up to him, she reached her hand up and placed it against his forehead. “You’re not hot, but you need time for your body to recover. You’ve been through quite an ordeal.”

His green eyes stared down at her. Sarah willed her breathing to stay steady. What was it about him that brought on such warm feelings?

He rubbed the back of his head. The gesture only emphasized his strong arms, making the muscles bulge in a way that beckoned her to touch them.  Sarah took a step back.

“Yeah, my head’s spinning like crazy,” he said. His voice sounded strangled and forced.

“Here,” she thrust the shirt out to him. “One of my brothers’ shirts. It should fit you well enough. You should sleep.” She tilted her head to look at him. He really didn’t look well. “Would you like some tea for the pain?”

“How do you know I have a headache?” His eyes narrowed.

“Your eyes are glazed, and you’re holding the back of your head. I can make you some willow bark tea. It will take the pain away.”

“Thanks for letting me crash here tonight,” he said. “I’ll get a ride to Canyon tomorrow.”

She pointed a finger in the direction of her room. “Go lie down. I will bring you some tea. Tomorrow you will feel better.” She didn’t understand his strange phrases. Where was her mother when she needed her?

He shuffled off to the bedroom, and Sarah couldn’t help but stare after him. She watched the muscles move on either side of his spine. He was a beautiful man. He was tall and lean, and looked strong. His face was nice to look at, although he did need to wash. He had a strong firm jaw, and intelligent eyes. How did such a man get himself lost in the middle of a thunderstorm?

After he disappeared inside her room, Sarah rummaged through her mother’s jars and pouches for some willow bark. Finding it in a leather pouch, she removed a handful and put it in a tin cup. She stoked the fire in the hearth and set more water to boil.

“What are we going to do with him, Grizzly?” Sarah took a seat in the rocking chair while she waited for the water to heat up. Her dog laid his huge head in her lap, and she stroked him between the ears. “He wants to return to the canyon, but I’m not sure he’s fit enough for such a long walk.” Grizzly’s ears twitched, and his black eyes stared up at her. He whined in apparent sympathy. Chase’s mention of companions left her with an uneasy feeling. One man she could handle on her own. More than one might be a problem.

Sarah quietly opened the door to her bedroom with the hot cup in her hand. A slow smile formed on her face. Chase was sprawled face-down in her bed, one long leg dangling over the sides. He hadn’t bothered putting the shirt on.  He didn’t move. She set the cup on her little table next to the bed, and pulled the buffalo hide over him, then quietly left the room.

*****

Sarah stretched and yawned, then opened her eyes. For a second, she wondered why she was lying in Samuel’s bed. Then she remembered. Chase! How had he managed through the night? Bright ribbons of light from the early morning sun reached the loft from the window below. She hastily pulled her britches on, and strapped her belt around her waist. Her hair cascaded in disheveled waves down her back and over her face. She ran her hand through it to push it back. Then she climbed down the ladder.

The first thing that caught her eye was the open door to her bedroom. She remembered closing it the night before. Grizzly was standing by the front door, whining softly. His head turned in her direction, sending her a pleading look with his almond eyes. Sarah peered into her room. The bed was empty. Chase must have gone outside. Had he left already? Her heart beat faster at the thought. Was that disappointment she felt?

She opened the cabin door and stepped out into the bright morning, scanning the meadow that spanned in front of the cabin, all the way to the Madison River about fifty yards away. He was standing at the river’s edge, staring into the distance. He wore his odd half-britches, and the shirt she had given him the night before. He must have seen her. He trotted towards her.

“Sarah, where are we?” He stopped so close in front of her, she thought he intended to knock her down. Her hand reached instinctively for her knife. He stared at her, his emerald eyes blazing with anger.

“The . . . Madison River Valley. I told you that yesterday,” Sarah stammered. What was going on?

“This is the Madison River?” he asked, and pointed behind him.

“Yes.” She shook her head, confused by his behavior.

“And that’s National Park Mountain?” He pointed at the straight mountain that rose out of the earth across the river.

“I . . . I don’t know. I’ve never heard it have a name.”

She was unprepared when he grabbed her by the shoulders.

“I was here a week ago, digging new steps in a trail on that hillside over there that should lead to the campground behind those trees.” He gestured to the sloping hill behind her parents’ home. “We re-enforced it with split logs. I busted my ass on that project. It took an entire day.”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying,” Sarah said, squirming for release from his strong grip.

“Where the hell’s the campground?” he roared. “And the trail, and the ranger station over there?” His chin jutted in an easterly direction, across the meadow.

“Release your hold on me,” Sarah said firmly. Chase’s face sobered. He dropped his arms.

“I want to know what the hell’s going on here.” His eyes scanned into the distance. “There should be a road, right over there,” he pointed beyond the river to the east, “with a bridge over the Gibbon River.”

Gibbon River?
How did he know that name? Her father called it the Little Buffalo River. She’d only heard her mother refer to it as the Gibbon River from time to time.

“There’s no road, and no bridge,” Sarah said. “I’ve lived here all my life. No one is camped in the hills behind the cabin.” Had he injured his head as well? He was talking like a crazy person. She took a step back to put some distance between them. Chase held his hands to his temples.

“Jesus! What the hell happened to me down in that canyon?” He stared again into the distance, looking for something that wasn’t there.

“Did you perhaps fall and hit your head?” Sarah offered tentatively. “I can take a closer look to see if there is an injury.” She reached her hand up to touch his head. He brushed it away impatiently.

“I didn’t hit my goddamn head!” he roared. Grizzly ran up to him and barked. Chase’s loud and angry tone had startled the dog. “Call off the damn mutt,” he growled.

“Come here, Grizzly. It’s okay.” Sarah slapped the side of her leg, and the dog quit barking instantly, and lowered his head. She looked at the irate man now pacing the yard in front of the cabin. He looked nearly crazed.

“If you can calm yourself, perhaps we can figure out what it is you are searching for,” Sarah offered in a quiet voice.

Chase stopped his pacing and turned towards her. His eyes rested on her. He inhaled deeply. “Okay. All right,” he said, his voice sounding calmer.

Sarah waited another moment. He appeared to be quieting down. “Come inside and sit. I will make coffee, and we can talk.”

Chase nodded. He followed her back into the cabin, and sat at the table, his head cradled in his hands. The shocked look on his face puzzled her. She rekindled the fire. When the flames burned large enough, she poured fresh water into the kettle to heat. Then she turned and sat across from him at the table.

“Something happened in that canyon, Sarah,” he said. “Everything’s different. That’s why I couldn’t find the road.”

“Everything has been the same here. There are no roads.” She tried to reason with him.

He stared up at her. “Who’s the president of the United States?” he asked suddenly.

What an odd question. She had to think for a moment, trying to remember any news she’d heard about the Americans. Here in the territories, news was slow to reach them. “I believe his name is Andrew Jackson. Why do you ask?” Chase unleashed a string of curse words, causing the blood to rush to Sarah’s face, and her cheeks burned.

“Would you please explain to me what is going on?” she asked, exasperated. He had seemed rational yesterday. Right now, his behavior was that of a demented person.

“What’s the date?” he demanded.

“Date?” The distraught look on his face startled her.  ”It’s May, but I . . . I’m not sure of the day. My mother keeps records of these things.”

He waved off her answer, shaking his head. “No, what year is it?”

“1835. What does it matter what--”

“How the hell did this happen?” Chase jumped out of his chair and raked his hands through his hair, holding on to his head. “How is it even possible?” He paced the length of the cabin. Sarah sat and watched. It was better to back away from an enraged grizzly than provoke it further, her Uncle Elk Runner always said. She kept a steady hand near the hilt of her knife, just in case.

“Okay, okay, think, Russell, think.” He was talking to himself in low tones, but his pacing didn’t let up. Sarah rose slowly from her seat and moved to the hearth. The water in the kettle bubbled. She spooned coffee grounds into a pot and ladled the hot water into it. Then she poured two cups. Chase came up beside her and took the cups from her. She stiffened when she felt his arm graze hers. He stood so close, she felt the heat coming off his body.

“Here, I got this. You don’t need to wait on me.” His tone had definitely calmed.

“Do you wish to tell me what has you so upset?” Sarah asked, following him back to the table.

He laughed. Then he shook his head. “I don’t even know how to explain this, but,” he paused and regarded her for a moment, “two days ago I climbed into the Yellowstone Canyon with five of my trail crew compadres, and it was twenty-thirty five. The next morning, they were all gone. I climbed back up the canyon, thinking it would be an easy walk back to the barracks, but I couldn’t find the road. Then that storm hit.”

“What do you mean ‘it was twenty-thirty five’?” Sarah wasn’t sure what that number meant.