LeClerc 01 - Autumn Ecstasy (8 page)

Her smooth brow wrinkled in concentration. She had fallen asleep on the table long after Bear’s even breathing had told her he slept. Vaguely, she remembered being carried, snuggled against a massive chest, while a deep voice whispered soothing words into her ear. She had thought it was a dream. But now, waking in the bed, she realized he had carried her here before he left. Feeling safe for the first time in weeks, her sleep had been so deep it had almost been a stupor.

She was still wrapped in the blanket, and the fur that she had spread on the table was still beneath her. Linsey realized he had picked her up, furs and all, and carried her to the bed.

But where was he? Why had he left the cabin without waking her?

The noisily growling protest of her stomach put an end to her musing. She climbed out of the warm nest, once more wrapping the blanket around her. The dirty, tattered dress lay on the floor, and Linsey realized she would have to wear it. Maybe she could wash some of the dirt out of it before putting it back on. She certainly couldn’t spend the rest of the winter wrapped in a blanket!

Linsey sat in a chair, her feet folded beneath her, finishing the last of her meal, when the door opened. Bear entered, looking very much like his name-sake and equally as large and powerful. He was wrapped in a coat made from a blackish-brown hide.

Flakes of snow clung to the long fur, and Linsey knew without being told that it was a bear hide. She briefly wondered who had made it for him; it was beautiful, and she envied the hood that snugly covered his head.

Luc said nothing as he laid a wrapped package on the table and walked to the fire. Kneeling as he removed his coat and gloves, he stretched his hands toward the warmth.

The two windows on the front of the cabin were tightly shuttered to help keep out the cold; but even in the dim light, she saw a clearer picture of the disfiguring scars on his face, and once more Linsey felt a twinge of alarm. He was such a large man and so horribly scarred. Could he really be as gentle as she had credited him? His size alone was intimidating, but with the added scar he was truly terrifying.

His well-shaped hands were massive, and as Linsey watched him warm them, she realized for the first time that most of the little finger on his left hand was missing and the hand itself was as badly scarred as his face.

A sudden fit of coughing startled her from her observations as the big man doubled over, gasping for air. Linsey realized his face was flushed, but not from the cold outside or from the heat of the fire, and wondered if he were feverish.

Wanting to offer help but not knowing what to do, she waited.

“The package is for you.” When his coughing had stopped, Luc stood, turning his back to the warmth of the fire.

“Are you all right?”

“Just a cough,” he said, his voice considerably deeper and more ragged than normal.

“Where were you?”

His red, watery eyes seemed to twinkle at her.

“When I put you in the bed this morning, I remembered what you had been wearing the night before.5’ Linsey’s face turned a deep pink as she, too, remembered the fight, their nude bodies pressed intimately together. “Since you can’t spend the winter wearing my blanket and even the most expertly skilled dressmaker can’t make a dress in a few hours, I decided to get you some clothing.”

His statement was interrupted several times with heavy racking coughs that sent a thrill of alarm down Linsey’s spine. The man was sick!

“You shouldn’t have gone out in the cold!”

He tried to answer; but chills sent a spasm of shudders racing down his body, and he clenched his teeth to prevent their chattering.

“Open the package.”

Untying the wrappings, Linsey discovered a dress that revolted her even as she admired it. It was a pale yellow color, made of hides as soft as velvet. Long fringe hung from the bodice, down the sleeves and at the knee-length hem. Beaded moccasins and pieces of hide that Bear told her were leggings were also in the package and of the same yellow color. It was beautiful. She knew it would be soft against her skin. It would be warmer and more modest than the blanket.

She would not wear it; it belonged to an Indian. Watching her reactions as he walked to the bed, Luc sat on the edge and rested his elbows on his knees. “It’ll keep you warm until you can make something yourself.” He shivered and wrapped a fur around his shoulders. “Add wood to the fire; it’s cold in here.”

Linsey forgot the dress in her concern for him. The cabin was already warm, almost too warm for the blanket she wore. And yet he was cold when covered by the heavy fur.

She reached for the wood nearest the fireplace and added several small pieces to the fire. “I’m not too sure what I’m doing.”

“Is that why you had no fire when I arrived last night?” he asked, stopping again to cough.

“I’m afraid it was never necessary for me to learn the art of building a fire.”

“Kindling first,” he instructed as he lay down and pulled several blankets over him. “Then small sticks. When it’s burning good, add the bigger logs.”

Linsey carefully added several large logs to the fire and watched the greedy flame lick hungrily at them. Feeling a great sense of pride for her simple accomplishment, she turned to Luc, waiting for praise for her efforts.

His eyes were closed, and as she walked nearer, she heard his heavy, labored breathing. His face was deeply flushed, and beneath the furs his body shook uncontrollably.

“You can’t get sick.” Linsey felt panic race up her spine. “Promise me you won’t get sick.”

“Not sick,” he muttered between coughs.

“Could have fooled me.”

“Haven’t been sick since I was a child.”

She placed a hand near the unscarred side of his face, careful not to touch him, and was startled by the heat radiating from his skin. “Please,” she pleaded softly. “I don’t know how to take care of myself. How can I take care of both of us?”

He opened his eyes, his dark gaze locking with hers. A slight smile crossed the rugged face, and Linsey noticed a deep dimple in his cheek. “I just need sleep, Timid Deer. Keep the fire burning so we don’t freeze.”

“You just can’t be sick.”

“Not sick.”

“If you get sick, you could die,” Linsey’s voice lowered to a whisper. “If you die, I’ll never get home. I’ll live here until the food runs out, and then I’ll starve to death.”

“Your concern for me is touching,” Bear replied, his voice laced with sarcasm. “I am not sick!” His voice rose to a roar only to be broken by another fit of coughing.

“Sick and grumpy,” Linsey moaned.

Bear gritted his teeth and tried to prevent another cough from escaping. “I will be well after a little sleep. I promise I won’t die.”

“Oh, please,” she whispered, “I don’t know what to do.”

He lifted a hand toward her, but it fell back to the bed far short of its goal of her cheek. His feverish gaze locked with her worried one, and a gentle smile touched his mouth.

“It will pass,
mon ange,
after I sleep.” His eyes drifted closed as the smile faded. “Keep the fire burning.”

CHAPTER FOUR

The cold, crisp day gradually faded into the twilight of approaching night. Meticulously tending the fire while keeping a distant watch on the sleeping man, Linsey was unaware of the change and was startled when she realized it was growing dark. She had spent long hours fighting the panic that threatened to overwhelm her. Without the aid of the sick man across the room, she would be helpless in this wilderness; her very existence depended on him.

Each time Bear had wakened during the long day, he had seemed worse. His breathing was a harsh, labored wheeze, splintering the hush in the small cabin. Occasionally he muttered faintly, the words too indistinct for her to distinguish.

It had been several hours since he’d last been awake, and his sleep was becoming more restless, the muttering louder. She cautiously approached him and pulled the furs snugly beneath his chin.

“Bear? Are you awake?” She was unaware of her choice of names or that she never thought of him as Luc.

After trying several times to rouse him, Linsey reluctantly admitted to herself that the fever had sent him beyond normal sleep. She walked back to the fireplace and stared into the dancing flame, as if looking to it for guidance.

“You’ve got to do something,” she mumbled to herself. “If you don’t, he will probably die.” She rubbed a hand wearily across her forehead. “Merciful God, what do I do?” It was a prayer, a plea for help.

Linsey sat down in the chair she had occupied most of the day, put her elbows on the table and supported her chin in her hands. She was sick so infrequently, and it had been years since Betsy had nursed her through an illness. Her brow wrinkled with concentration as she tried to remember what Betsy had done to help her.

“Water!” Linsey smacked the table with her hand, regretting it when her palm began to sting.

Looking around the cabin, she found several kettles and bowls … all empty. She added another log to the fire as she tried to think of the nearest water source. Surely Bear did not travel all the way to the river!

“Idiot!” she hissed loudly. “There’s all the water anyone could ever need right outside!”

Carrying a large bucket, Linsey opened the door and took a couple of steps outside. The howling wind had stopped, leaving it eerily quiet. The snow sparkled brightly in the glow of a full moon while shadows from the trees danced darkly mysterious in a silent breeze. The air was bitterly cold but smelled invitingly fresh with a hint of wood smoke. A trail through the deep snow led toward the trees, showing the path Bear had taken that morning when he went for the dress.

Linsey knelt and began scooping snow into the bucket. Her long hair draped over her shoulders and dangled onto the ground. Several times she had to stop to push it out of the way and decided the first thing she needed to do was to find some way to anchor it on top of her head.

Her hands were tingling from the cold by the time the bucket was filled. Carrying it back inside, Linsey was relieved to have the warmth and security of the cabin as she closed and latched the door.

She separated the snow into several smaller pots and kettles, placing them near the fire so that it could melt. She ran her fingers through her hair, trying to smooth the largest tangles. Twisting it into a long coil, she looped it around itself, forming a knot low on her neck.

Turning her back to the fire, her gaze came to rest on the buckskin dress still lying on the table. It was going to be a long night, tending both the man and the fire. The blanket wrapped around her would hamper her movements. It was bulky and constantly slipped down her shoulders.

Holding it gingerly with two fingers of each hand, she held up the dress. It was beautifully made, and closer inspection showed that the beadwork down the front was a series of tiny flowers, each vining into the next.

Biting the inside of her lower lip, Linsey looked across the room to assure herself that Bear still slept, then let the blanket drop and slid the dress over her head. A rawhide thong laced the front closed from the middle of her chest to just beneath her chin.

Linsey slipped on the moccasins while admiring the unfamiliar comfort of the dress. It hung lightly from her shoulders and flowed softly around her body. Its light touches were almost a caress against her skin where her curves swelled out to meet it. She felt nakedly exposed with so much of her legs uncovered; but the leggings were unfamiliar, and she had no idea how to put them on. Shrugging slightly, she decided she had more important things to worry about. Anyway, no one would see her highly unconventional mode of dress.

Wrapping the blanket over her head and shoulders for added warmth, Linsey carried the large bucket outside and refilled it. She placed it near the fire, tossed the blanket over a chair and waited impatiently for the snow in the smaller kettle to completely melt.

Across the room Bear moaned, tossing and turning, searching for a little coolness for his burning flesh. Linsey put the intimacy of touching him from her mind as she tested the water and found it no longer bitterly cold but still cool. She carried it to the bed and stood for long moments looking down at the feverish man.

It had to be done… .

Tearing the remainder of the ragged chemise into long strips. Linsey sat gingerly on the edge of the bed. She wet one of the rags, wrung it out and placed it on his broad forehead. Using another one, she dabbed it over the smooth side of his face, shrinking away from the thought of touching the other side even through the damp cloth.

As she talked softly, his restlessness ceased. She wondered if his reaction was to the cooling touch of the cloth against his heated skin, or if it was the sound of her voice that soothed him.

The rags warmed quickly, and Linsey soon set a rhythm of placing one on his forehead, sponging his face and then starting over. She carefully avoided acknowledging the existence of the left side of his face.

Her back began to ache from the bent position she was forced to maintain. Using the now warm water as an excuse, she stood, stretched and crossed the room.

The fire had burned down, and as she stooped to add several more logs, she felt a smug sense of pride in herself. She had managed to keep the fire going and had thought of a way to help relieve some of Bear’s suffering. She was even willing to go without sleep if it became necessary. Tomorrow, if he was not better, she would have to see about fixing something for them to eat. For her evening meal she had eaten the last of the food he had prepared that morning. Even though she did not know how to cook, Linsey didn’t let herself worry about it. For now, anyway, she felt that she could handle any situation.