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Beside him, she moaned. Her breathing had indicated she had eventually fallen asleep. For that he was glad. At least there, she was at peace. A red hot rage filled him when he thought of what that man had done to her and her sister. If he were still alive, he would ensure the man pay for his crimes. Watch him with satisfaction be taken down from his throne.
Instinctively, he clutched her close, hauling her against his heart. He could feel the vibrations of his pulse against her back. It reminded him he was alive. Years of living an empty shell of a life, had left him as cold and lifeless as the corpses he buried six feet under. He and Ivy were quite the pair, he reckoned. It was almost like looking in a mirror. And what he saw made him frown.
She had told him she thought her prayers had gone unanswered. That He had long forgotten her. Sam figured he must have felt the same way over the years. He hadn’t been living. Not really. His life had been void of something he didn’t even realize was missing.
Ivy muttered something and turned in his embrace, burrowing closer into his chest. Sam drew her closer. Perhaps Ivy was wrong. Just maybe her prayers had been answered after all. No matter what happened after tomorrow, he would never regr
et having met Ivy McGregor. She would stay in his thoughts and memories forever. He just had to ensure she stayed out of his heart.
When the sun slowly rose above the eastern horizon, Sam lifted the pelt off their heads and took a cautious look around; making sure no unwelcome visitors had snuck up on them while they slept. Being either the human or non-human kind.
What greeted him was a world of white. It had snowed all night long. There was a good two inches of snow covering the ground. Admittedly, it was beautiful. Reminding him of a time as a child it had snowed that one time in Oklahoma. It had been so rare and so serene.
With the coast clear, he pulled the cloak away from Ivy’s head and looked down into her face. It truly was a miracle how she had become more beautiful over the last few days. Though he knew she resented the label. And from what she told him, he could see why. How he would have enjoyed teaching her to embrace her natural good looks.
The smile faded from his face. His time with Ivy was quickly coming to an end. It was best he tried to remember that.
She groaned softly as she gently woke from her slumber. Sam thought he had never seen a more angelic way of waking up. Her back arched and she allowed a syrupy moan to escape her throat and a tiny smile to play upon her lips. Was she dreaming? Foolishly, he hoped it was about him.
“Mornin’.”
Her eyes fluttered open. The bright morning sky reflected in the color of her eyes, took his breath away. He couldn’t recall ever seeing any as beautiful.
“Good morning.”
Sam would have loved to lay there a while longer. Simply gazing into her face. But already, the chilly autumn temperatures were penetrating his clothes and he knew he had to get up and rekindle the fire which had dwindled severely from the high winds.
“Stay put.” He wrapped their coverings more securely around her. “Keep warm while I get the fire restarted.”
“Won’t ye be cold?”
“I’ll be fine,” he said, though the bitter wind nearly had him biting his own words. Hell, it was cold. The coldest day yet. He would have to work quickly. As soon as he was done, he just might crawl back in there with her.
Moving swiftly, he used the pile of kindling he had collected the night before into a tepee position over the now snow-covered coals in the fire pit. Because the wind was blowing straight into their little cocooned shelter, he had to cup his hands around the fire to ensure it wouldn’t blow out.
Though it took longer than usual, he watched with satisfaction as the first major flame took life. Once he was sure it wasn’t going to go out, he turned and pulled out some cans of food from the saddlebag to heat over the fire. They would feel nice and warm going down on such a cold morning. Checking the canteen, he discovered the last bit of remaining water had frozen overnight.
He didn’t really want to head down to the creek. He would prefer crawling back under the coverings next to Ivy’s warm body. But knowing that was treading on dangerous ground, he grabbed the canteen and told her, “I won’t be gone long. We’re all out of water.”
When she simply looked up at him without saying anything, he stopped and fixed her with a gaze. “Don’t attempt anything foolish. It’s not safe out there.”
She looked away, but offered the smallest nod. He nearly choked on his surprise. The fact that he knew he could trust her, startled him even more. Since their trek through the Canadian wilderness begun, Ivy had not lied once to him. To his confusion, he wasn’t left with a feeling of triumph as he would have suspected. Instead, he felt unusually troubled.
* * *
Ivy shivered and drew the wool blanket closer. The air was so cold she could feel the hair in her nostrils. She turned and looked around their small camp. Snow covered every inch. Tilting her head, she looked up at the bare branches now covered in the white fluffy stuff. The wind had subsided and everything laid still and quiet. Peaceful.
It was almost beautiful if it weren’t so terribly cold. She shivered again and burrowed deeper into the coverings. The fur on the pelt from the Indian tickled the underside of her nose. She frowned recalling the night before and Sam’s warning. Knowing the Indian was out there, possibly stalking them caused a new wave of goose bumps to sweep over her flesh. If they had killed those people in the village so easily, she could only imagine what they would do with her.
From the path to the creek, Sam emerged. Ivy sighed with relief, and then caught herself. She had to stop doing that. It was becoming increasingly difficult to remember he was delivering her to her death.
“We better get moving. There’s fresh paw prints in the snow down by the river.”
Instantly, she sat up. “What kind?”
“The big kind.” He gathered up the wraps they had slept in and began rolling the blanket. “Use the pelt to cover up. That cloak won’t keep you warm any longer.”
As if it ever did, she thought, grateful for the pelt’s warmth even though it somehow felt tainted. If the Indian thought he could trade it for Ivy, he was sadly mistaken.
