Two Alone (3 page)

A halt-hour later she carried her findings and added them to the pile of articles he had gathered. Apparently he approved of her selection, which included two flasks of liquor. She couldn't identify it by the smell, but Cooper wasn't particular. He seemed in enjoy the healthy drink he took from one of the flasks. She watched his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed. He had a strong neck, and a solid, square jaw. Typical, she thought peevishly, of all stubborn mules.

He recapped the flask and tossed it down along with the books of marches, a travel sewing kit- and the extra clothing she-had accumulated. He didn't remark on how well she'd done. Instead he nodded down at the small suitcase she was carrying.

"What's that?"

"That's mine."

"That's not what I asked."

He yanked the suitcase from her hand and opened it. His large hands violated her neat stacks of pastel silk thermal underwear, nightgowns, and assorted lingerie. He pulled one set of leggings through the circle he made of his index finger and thumb. His gray eyes met hers. "Silk?" Coldly, she stared back at him without answering. His grin was downright dirty. It insinuated things she didn't even want to guess at. "Very nice."

Then his grin disappeared beneath his mustache and he tossed the garment at her. 'Take two sets of long Johns. A couple pairs of socks. A cap. Gloves. This coat." he added, piling a ski jacket atop the other garments he'd selected. "One extra pair of britches. A couple of sweaters." He opened the zippered, plastic-lined travel bag she'd packed her cosmetics and toiletries in.

"I need all of that," she said quickly.

"Not where we're going you don't." He rifled through her cosmetics, heedlessly tossing a fortune's worth of beauty-enhancing creams and makeup into the rotting, wet leaves. "A hairbrush, toothpaste and toothbrush, soap. That's it. And, just because I'm merciful, these." He handed her a box of tampons.

She snatched it out of his hands and crammed it back into the cosmetic bag along with the other few items he had allowed her.

Again he grinned. The juxtaposition of his white teeth and wide mustache made him look positively wicked. "You think I'm a real son of a bitch, don't you? You’re just too nice to say so."

"No, I'm not." Her russet brown eyes flashed hotly. "I think you're a real son of a bitch."

His smile merely deepened. "It's only gonna get worse before ii gets better." He stood up, glancing worriedly at the darkening sky. "Come on. We'd better get going."

As soon as he turned his back, Rusty slipped a colorless lip glass, a bottle of shampoo and a razor into the bag. He might not need to shave before they reached civilization, but she was s
ure
she would.

She jumped guiltily when he turned back and asked her, "Do you know how to shoot one of these?" He held up a hunting rifle.

Rusty shook her head no. Only yesterday shed seen a beautiful Dall ram being brought down with a rifle just like that. It was a distasteful memory. Rather than celebrating the kill, her sympathies had been with the slain animal.

"I was afraid of that," Cooper muttered. "But you can carry it anyway." He hooked the heavy rifle over her shoulder by its leather strap and placed another, presumably his own, over his
shoulder. He shoved a fearsome-looking pistol into his waistband. Catching her wary glance he said, "It's a flare gun. I found it in the cockpit. Keep your ears open for search planes."

By seaming up the neck of a sweater with a shoelace, he had fashioned a backpack out of it. He tied it around her neck by the sleeves. "Okay," he said, giving her a cursory inspection, "Let’s go."

Rusty cast one last sad, apprehensive look at the wreckage of the airplane, then struck out after him. His broad back made an easy target to follow. She found that by keeping her eyes trained on a spot directly between his shoulder blades, she was able to put herself into a
semi trance
and ward off her memory of the bodies they had left behind. She wanted to lapse into forgetfulness.

She plodded on, losing energy with each step. Her strength seemed to be seeping out of her with alarming rapidity. She didn't know how far they had gone, but it couldn't have been very far before it seemed impossible for her to put one foot in front of the other. Her legs were trembling with fatigue. She no longer swatted aside the branches that backlashed, but indifferently let them slap into her.

Cooper's image grew blurry, then began wavering in front of her like a ghost. The trees all seemed to have tentacles that tried to catch her clothes, tear at her hair, ensnare her ankles, impede her in any way possible. Stumbling, she glanced down at the ground and was amazed to see that it was rushing up to meet her. How extraordinary, she thought.

Instinctively, she grasped the nearest branch to break her fall and called out weakly, "Coo...Cooper."

She landed hard, but it was a blessed relief to lie on the cool ground, damp and soggy as it was. The leaf mold seemed like a compress against her cheek. It was a luxury to let her eyes close.

Cooper murmured a curse as he shrugged off his backpack and let the strap of the rifle slide down his arm. Roughly, he rolled her over onto her back and pried her eyelids open with his thumbs. She gazed up at him, having no idea that her face was as pale as death. Even her lips were as gray as the clouds overhead.

"I'm sorry to hold you back." She was vaguely surprised that her voice sounded so faint. She could feel her lips moving, but she wasn't sure she had actually spoken aloud. It seemed imperative to apologize for detaining him and being a nuisance in
general.
"I've got to rest for just a minute."

"Yeah, yeah, that's fine, uh, Rusty. You rest." He was working
at
the hook and eye buried deep in the fox-fur collar of her coat. "
Are
you hurt anywhere?" "Hurt? No. Why?"

"Nothing." He shoved open her coat and plunged his hands inside. He slipped them beneath her swea
t
er and began care-
f
ully pressing his
fi
ngers against her abdomen. Was this proper?
s
he thought fuzzily.

"You might be bleeding somewhere and don't know it."

His words served to clarify everything. "Internally?" Panicked, she struggled to sit up.

"I don't know. I don't— Hold it!" With a sudden flick of his hands, he flipped back the front panels of her full-length coat.
H
is breath whistled through his teeth. Rusty levered herself up on her elbows to see what had caused him to frown so ferociously.

The right leg of her trousers was soaked with bright red blood. It had also made a sponge of her wool sock and run over her leather hiking boot.

"When did you do this?" His eyes, razor sharp, moved up
to
hers.

"What happened?"

D
ismayed, she looked at Cooper and wordlessly shook her head. "Why didn't you tell me you were hurt?"

"I didn't know," she said weakly.

He slipped his knife from its scabbard. Pinching up the blood-
s
oa
ked hem of her trousers, he slid the knife into the crease and jet ked it upward. With one heart-stopping stroke, it cut straight up her pants leg, neatly slicing the fabric all the way from her hem to the elastic leg of her underpants. Shocked and fearful, she sucked in her breath.

Cooper, gazing down at her leg, expelled a long, defeated breath. "Hell."

Ru
sty
’
s head began to buzz. She felt nauseous. Her earlobes were
t
h
robbing
and her throat was on
fire.
Each individual hair follicle
in
her head felt like a pinprick. The pads of her fingers and toes were tingling. She
’
d fainted once after having a root canal. She
k
new the symptoms.

But, damn, did they have to afflict her here? In front of him?
E
asy, easy." He grasped her shoulders and lowered her to the
grou
nd.
"You don't remember hurting yourself?" She shook her
head
dumbly. "Must have happened when
we
crashed."

"
I didn't feel any pain."

"You were too shocked. How does it feel now?"

O
nly then did she become aware of the pain. "Not bad." His
eyes
probed hers for the truth. "Really, it's not that bad.
I
'
ve bled
a
lo
t
,
t
hough, haven't I?"

"
Yeah." Grim-faced, he rummaged through the first-aid kit. "I've got to sponge up the blood so I can see where it's co
m
ing from."

He tore into the backpack she'd been carrying and selected a soft cotton undershirt to swab up the blood. She felt the pressure of his hands, but little else as she ga
z
ed up through the branches of the trees overhead. Maybe she'd been premature to thank God for being alive. She might bleed to death lying here on the ground. And there wouldn't be anything Cooper or she could do about it. In fact, he would probably be glad to get rid of her.

His soft curse roused her from her macabre musings. She tilted her head up and looked down at her injured leg. Along her shinbone a gash ran from just below her knee to just above her sock. She could see flesh, muscle. It was sickening. She whimpered.

"Lie down, dammit."

Weakly, Rusty obeyed the emphatic order. "How could that happen without my feeling it?"

"Probably split like a tomato skin the moment of impact." "Can you do anything?"

"Clean it with peroxide." He opened the brown opaque plastic bottle he'd found in the first-aid kit and soaked the sleeve of the T-shirt with the peroxide.

"Is it going to hurt?"

"Probably."

Ignoring her tearful, frightened eyes, he dabbed at the wound with the peroxide. Rusty clamped her lower lip with her teeth to keep from crying out, but her face twisted with anguish. Actually, the thought of the peroxide bubbling in the gash was as bad as the pain.

"Breathe through your mouth if you feel like vomiting," he
told
her tonel
e
ssly. "I'm almost finished."

S
he squeezed her eyes shut and didn't open them until she
heard
the sound of ripping cloth. He was tearing another T-shirt
int
o strips. One by one he wrapped them around her calf, binding her lower leg tightly.

"
T
hat'll have to do for now," he said, more to himself than to
her.
Picking up his knife again, he said, "Raise your hips." She
d
id, avoiding his eyes. He cu
t
the leg of her trousers from around
her
upper thigh. His hands worked beneath her thighs and
between them. His call
used knuckles brushed against her smooth
skin, but she needn't have felt any embarrassment. He
could
have been cutting up
a steak for all the emotion he
showed.

"
You
damn sure can't walk."

"
I
c
an!" Rusty insisted frantically.

She
was afraid that he would go of
f
without her. He was
sta
nding
over her, feet widespread, looking around. His brow
was
b
ee
tl
ed and beneath his mustache she could tell that he was
gnaw
ing on the inside of his cheek as though giving something
careful
consideration.
Was
he weighing his options? Deciding whether or not to
desert
her? Or maybe he was thinking of killing her qui
ckly and mercifu
lly instead of letting her die of her wound.

Fina
lly he bent down and, cuppi
ng her armpits in his palms, lifte
d her into a sitting position. "Take off your coat and put on
that
ski
jacket."

With
out an argument, she let the fur coa
t
slide from her
shoulders
. Using the hatchet he'd brought along, Cooper hacke
d down
three saplings and stripped them of their branches. Silently
Rusty watched as he fashioned them into an H, only placing the crossbar higher than normal. He bound the intersections with rawhide tongs, which he'd taken from the boots of the men they'd buried. Then he took her fur coat and ran a sleeve over each of the tops of the two longer poles. Rusty flinched when he stabbed through the fur and satin lining, gouging out a hole in the bottom of her precious fox coat.

He glanced up at her. "What's the matter?"

She swallowed, realizing that he was testing her. "Nothing.
"
The coat was a gift, that's all."

He watched her for a few seconds more before making a similar hole in the o
the
r side. He then ran the poles through the holes. The finished product was a crude travois. No self-respecting American Indian would have claimed it, but Rusty was impressed with his ingenuity and skill. And vas
tl
y relieved that he obviously didn't plan to leave her behind or otherwise dispose of her.

He laid the rough contraption on the ground. Turning to her, he caught her under the knees and behind the back and lifted her. He laid her on the soft fur, then piled several pelts on top of her.

"I didn't see any animal up there with a hide that looked like this," she said, running her hand over a skin of short, fine wool.

"
U
m
in
gmak."

"Pardon?"

"That's what the Inuit called the musk-ox. Means 'the bearded one.' It wasn't my kill; I just bought the pelt. It's very warm." He tucked the wool around her and threw another pelt on top of that "It's up to you to stay on and keep covered."

Standing, he wiped perspiration off his brow with the back of his hand. He winced when he grazed the bump on his temple.

Rusty would have gone
t
o bed for a week if she had sustained a
blow
like that; it must be killing him.

"Thank you, Cooper," she said softly.

H
e froze, glanced down at her, nodded quickly, then turned
an
d
began ga
t
hering up their paraphernalia. He
t
oss
e
d both
bac
kpacks onto her lap, along with both rifles. "Hang on to those, too, will you?"

"Where ar
e
we going?"

"Sou
t
heast," was his succinct reply.

"Why?"

"Sooner or later, we'll bump in
t
o an ou
t
post of civilization." "Oh." Sh
e dreaded moving, anticipating t
hat
t
he journey

Wasn’
t going
t
o be a joyride. "May I have an aspirin please?"

H
e unpocke
t
ed
t
he plas
t
ic bo
tt
le and shook two aspirin
tablets
into her hands.

"I can't take them wi
t
hout water."

H
e made an impa
t
ient scoffing sound. "It's either dry or
with
brandy."

"
B
rand
y
, please."

H
e passed her one of
t
he flasks, watching her closely. She b
r
ave
l
y put the spout to her mou
t
h and took a hefty swallow to

wash
down the aspirin tablets. She choked and sputtered. Tears filled her eyes, but wi
t
h dignity and poise s
he returned the flask in him. "
Thank you."

Hi
s narrow lips twitched with the need to smile. "You might
not
have any common sense, but you've got guts, lady."

And that, she thought, was as close to a compliment as she

was
ever likely to get from Cooper Landr
y
. He secured the
trunks
of the saplings beneath his arms and moved forward, dragging the travois behind him. After having gone only a few tee
t
h-jarring, butt-bruising yards, Rusty realized that she wasn't going to be much better off in the travois than she would have been walking. It required all her concentration just to keep from sliding off. Her bottom would be black and blue with bruises-legacies of the rocks it encountered every grueling step of the way
.
She dared not even think of the satin lining of her coat being ripped to shreds by the forest debris as it was hauled over the rough ground.

It grew progressively darker and colder. A light precipitation began—snow grains she thought the meteorologists called the stuff, pellets of ice no larger than grains of salt. Her injured leg began to ache, but she would have bitten her tongue in two before she complained. She could hear Cooper's labored breathing. He wasn't having an easy time of it either. If it weren't for her, he could cover three times the distance in the same amount of time.

Darkness closed in suddenly, making it perilous for them to continue over the unfamiliar terrain. He stopped in the next clearing he came to and dropped the poles of the travois. "How're you doing?"

She didn't think about how hungry, thirsty, and uncomfortable she was. She said, "Fine."

"Yeah, sure. How are you really?" He knelt down and whipped off the covering of furs. Her bandage was soaked with fresh blood. He quickly replaced the furs. "We'd better stop for the night. Now that the sun has set, I can't tell which direction I'm going in."

He was lying, only saying that to make her feel better. Rusty knew that he would keep going if it weren't for her. It was
doubtf
ul that he was afraid of the dark or that inclement weather
w
ou
ld
faze him. Even though he'd been dragging her for hours,
he a
pp
e
ar
e
d to have enough stamina to go at least another two.

He
circled the clearing and began shoveling pine needles into pile. He spread the pelts over them and came back for Rusty.
C
oop
e
r?"

"
Hm
m?" He grunted with the effort of lifting her off the travois.

"
I
have to go to the bathroom."

Sh
e couldn't see him clearly in the darkness, but she could feel
shoc
ked stare. Embarrassed beyond belief, she kept her head
d
own. "Okay," he replied after a moment, "Will your leg
su
pport you while—"

"
Yes, I think so," she said in a rush.

He
carried her to the edge of the clearing and gen
tl
y lowered
her
to
stand on her left leg. "Brace yourself against the tree," he
instruc
ted gruffly "Call me when you're done."

It
was
much more difficult than she had expected it to be. By
the
time
she had refastened what was left of her trousers, she was
s
h
i
ver
ing
wit
h weakness and her teeth were chattering with cold.
"
Al
l
r
ight, I'm finished."

Co
oper materialized out of the darkness and lifted her into hi
s
arm
s
again. She would never have thought a bed of pine
needels
and animal pelts could have felt so good, but she sighed
with
relief when he laid her on it and she was able to relax.

Co
oper packed the furs around her. "I'll build a fire. It won't
muc
h of one. There's not enough dry wood. But it'll be better
than
nothing and might help ward off visitors."

Rusty
shivered and pulled the furs over her head, as much to protect her from the thought of wild animals as the icy precipitation that continued to dust
t
he ground. But the increasing pain in her leg wouldn't let her do
z
e. She grew restless and finally peeped out from beneath the covering. Cooper had succeeded in building a sputtering, smoky fire. He'd lined the shallow bowl he'd scooped out of
t
he ground with rocks to keep it from igniting her bed.

He glanced over at her and, unzipping one of the many pockets in his coat, cook something out and tossed it to her. She caught it one-handed. "Wha
t
is it?"

"Granola bar."

At the thought of food, her stomach rumbled noisily. She ripped open the foil wrapper, ready to stuff
t
he whole bar into her mouth. Before she did, she got hold of herself and paused. "You...you don't have to share with me," she said in a small voice. "It's yours and you might need it later."

His gray eyes looked as hard and cold as gunmetal when he turned his head. "It isn't mine. I found it in a coa
t
pocket that belonged to one of the others."

He seemed to take brutal delight in telling her that, implying that if the granola bar were his, he'd think twice before sharing it with her.

Whatever his intention, he had spoiled it for her. The bar tasted like sawdust in her mouth; she chewed and swallowed it mechanically. The tastelessness was partially due
t
o her thirst. As though reading her mind, Cooper said, "If we don't find water tomorrow, we're in trouble."

"Do you think we will?"

"I don't know."

She lay amid the furs contemplatively. "Why do you think the plane crashed?"

"I don't know. A combination of things,
I
guess."

"Do you have any idea where we are?"

"No. I might have a general idea if it hadn't been for the storm."

"You think we were off course?"

"Yes. But
I
don't know how far."

She rested her cheek against her hand and stared into the le flame that was struggling for life. "Had you ever been to t
he
Bear Lake before?"

"
O
nce."

"When?"

"Several years ago."

"
Do
you do a lot of hunting?"

"
Some."

He wasn't exactly an orator, was he? She wanted to draw him
i
nto
conversation to keep her mind off the pain in her leg.

"Do
you th
ink they'll find us?"

"
Maybe."

"When?"

"
What do you think I am, a damned encyclopedia?" His
shout
bounced around the ring of trees surrounding them. He
came
t
o his feet abruptly. "Stop asking me so many questions.

I
don’t
have the answers,"

I
j
ust want to know," she cried tearfully. Well, so do I. But
I
don't. I'd say the chances of them
find
ing us are extremely good if the plane was still on the flight
plan
and extremely remote if it was too far off, okay? Now, shut
up
a
bout it."

Rusty lapsed into wounded silence. Cooper prowled the clearing in search of dry tinder. He added a few sticks to the fire before moving toward her. "Better let me tend to your leg."

He brusquely threw the covers back. The fire shed meager light onto the bloody bandage. Expertly wielding the hunting knife, he cut through the knots he'd tied earlier and began unwinding the s
t
ained cloth. "Does it hurt?"

"Yes."

"Well, it has every right to," he said grimly as he gazed down a
t
the wound. His expression wasn't very encouraging.

While she held the flashlight for him, he soaked the gash with peroxide again and wrapped it in fresh bandaging. By the
t
ime he had finished, tears were stinging her eyes and her lips were blotchy from biting them, but she hadn't cried out once. "Wh
e
re
’d
you learn to bandage so well?"

"Nam." His answer
was curt, indicating that the
subject was closed. "Here,
t
ake two more aspirin." He passed her the bottle after shaking ou
t
two for himself. He hadn't complained, but his head must have felt as though it were splitting in two. "And drink some more brandy. At least two swallows. I think
t
hat by morning, you're going to need it."

"Why?"

"Your leg. Tomorrow will probably be the worst day. After that, maybe it'll sta
r
t to get better." "What if it doesn't?" He said nothing; he didn't have to.

With trembling hands, Rusty held the flask of brandy to her lips and took an occasional sip from it. Now that the dry kindling had caught, Cooper stacked more wood on the fire. But
it
wasn't burning hot enough for him to take off his coat, which he surprised her by doing.
He
took off his boots, too, and told her to do the same. Then, making a bundle of the coats and boo
t
s, he scuffed them down be
t
ween the furs.

"What's that for?" Her feet were already getting cold.

"If we sweat in our boots and it turns colder, we'll ge
t frostbit
e. Scoo
p
over."

She stared up at him apprehensively. "Hu
h
?"

Sighing impa
tient
ly, he crawled in with her, forcing her to move over and allow him room beneath the pile of furs, claimed, Rusty exclaimed, "What are you doing?"

"Going to sleep. If you'll shut up, that is."

"Here?"

"Accommodations with
separate
beds were unavailable." "You
can’t
—"

" Relax, Miss... What was it
again?"

"
Carlson.
"

"Yeah, Miss Carlson. Our combined body hear will help keep
us
warm." He snuggled close
t
o her and pulled the furs up over their heads, effec
t
ively cocooning them inside. "Turn on your
side
, away from me."

"
G
o to hell."

She could almost hear him mentally counting to ten. "Look,
I don't want
t
o freeze. And I don
't
look forward
t
o digging
ano
t
h
er grave
t
o bury you in, either, so just do as I say. Now."

H
e must have been an officer in Vietnam, she thought petu
lantly
as she rolled on to her side. He put his arm around her waist
and
drew her back against him, until they were lying
together
spoon
fashion. She could scarcely breathe. "Is this really necessary?"

"Yes."

"I won't move away. There's nowhere to go. You don't have to keep your arm
t
here."

"You surprise me. I thought you'd like this." He pressed against her stomach with the palm of his hand. "You're a real looker. Don't you expect men to get all hot and bothered when they're around you?"

"Let go of me."

"All that long hair, its unusual color."

"Shut up!"

"You're proud of your round little butt and perky tits, aren't you? I'm sure most men find you irresistible. That copilot sure did. He was salivating after you like a Doberman over a bitch in heat, almost stumbling over his tongue."

"
I
don't know what you're talking about."

He stroked her stomach. "Oh, yes, you do. You must have enjoyed stunning all those men on the plane into speechlessness when you climbed aboard with your fur collar pulled up, brushing against your flushed checks and sexy mouth."

"Why are you doing this?" she sobbed.

He cursed and when he spoke again, his voice wasn't lilting and teasing. It was weary. "So you'll rest assured that I'm not going to take advantage of you during the night. Redheads have never been my preference. Besides, your body is still warm from your sugar daddy's bed. All things considered, your virtue is safe with me."

She sniffed back tears of humiliation. "You're cruel and vulgar."

He laughed. "Now you sound offended that I'm not tempted to rape you. Make up your mind. If you have a hankering for sex
tonight,
I can oblige you. My body isn't as particular as my head.
After
all, it's awfully dark in here. And you know what they say