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there had been something shocking and terrible in the way he fought. He
seemed to go berserk in battle; he forgot his wounds and everything but
killing. At first he had been cool and methodical. She had glimpsed him on the
ridge, firing from his knee, and then during the fight his face had been
strained, brutal, utterly fierce. What could make a man like that? He moved
suddenly, putting some small sticks on the fire, and then firelight flickered
on his moving rifle barrel, there was an instant of cold air, and he was
outside in the snow again. Had he heard something? Or was he just being
careful? She glanced across the fire at Healy. He was lying down, his
blankets around him. She felt a sudden desire to reach out and touch him. He
was so lost here.... Yet he had gone into that fight with no thought of
himself, and he had managed to protect them and stay alive. She wrapped
herself in some blankets and was almost asleep when Mabry returned.. There was
no sound, but the blanket curtain at the doorway moved and then he was inside,
huddled over the fire. Janice believed she was the only one awake, but
Dodie's hand reached out and moved the coffeepot toward him. Janice felt a
little twinge of irritation, and burrowed deeper into her bed. Yet neither of
them spoke. Outside the wind was rising, and she saw snowflakes melting from
his sleeve when he poured coffee. Inside the shelter the acrid bite of the
smoke made her eyes smart, but it was warm here, and she slept.... She
awakened suddenly in the first cold light of breaking day. Only a spot of gray
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showed where the smoke hole was. Mabry was on his knees by the fire, coaxing
it to flame. Then he reached outside and scooped fresh, clean snow into the
kettle, and put it on a rock close to the fire. She lay still in the vague
light, watching him. She was remembering what Dodie had said, that she loved
this man. How silly! She could never love such a man. He was cruel and a
brute. Take the way he spoke of Maggie yesterday. Of course, they probably did
have to move, but still... His face was like well-tanned leather in the
firelight. He wore a blue wool shirt tucked into his pants, and now he was
pulling a fringed buckskin hunting shirt over it. He got up in one lithe,
easy movement. She thought she had never seen a man whose muscular
co-ordination was so flawless. He went out the door, and when he was gone she
got out from her own bed and went to Maggie. And then she saw that Maggie was
covered with Mabry's buffalo coat. Sometime during the night he must have got
up and spread the coat over her. His own coat. Janice went to the packs and
began getting out food for a meal. His action puzzled her, making no part of
the man she was creating in her mind. When he had been gone almost an hour he
returned suddenly with two good-sized rabbits and some slender branches. He
split the branches with his knife and took out the pith. "Add it to the soup,"
he whispered. She looked at it doubtfully, then put it into the pot. "You
stay out here," he said, "you'll eat everything. And be glad to get it." He
added sticks to the fire, then looked at her quizzically. "Panther meat now,
that's best of all." "Cat?" She looked to see if he was serious. "Surely you
wouldn't?" "Sure I would. And I have. Mountain men prefer it to venison or
bear meat." Dodie turned over and sat up, blinking like a sleepy child. "It's
warmer." "Colder," Mabry said, "only we're snowed in. Heavy fall last night,
and if anybody can see this place at all, it'll look like an igloo." Maggie
opened her eyes and looked around. For the first time in many hours she seemed
perfectly rational. "Where are we?" she whispered. "It's all right, ma'am,"
King Mabry said. "Just rest She looked up at the shelter of boughs. The air in
the place was heavy with the smell of wood smoke and cooking, but fresher than
it had ever been in the van. "You're a good man," Maggie said. "A good man."
Obviously embarrassed, Mabry turned and began feeding sticks into the fire. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]