The water was cold. I was soon soaked to near my knees. A stiff breeze from high up the mountain added to my discomfort.
Neither the water nor the wind seemed to have any effect on Blue Water Woman. She was made of iron.
In due course the sun poked over the rim of the world. The forest was alive with birds, and other small creatures were stirring after their night of rest.
“No sign of pursuit yet,” I said.
“They will come,” Blue Water Woman declared.
I wanted to keep talking. It took my mind off how cold I was, and my empty stomach, and my paintings and my journal. So I gave voice to the first thing that popped into my head. “Do you ever regret marrying a white man?”
Blue Water Woman broke stride and glanced back at me. “A strange thing to ask at a time like this.” She moved on.
“Zach King told me that a lot of whites and Indians look down their noses at those who wed outside their own kind.”
“I do not care what others think. I do not care what they say. I live my life as I want and not as they want.”
“You are happy, then?”
“Happy beyond words, Robert Parker. Shakespeare is a special man, and I am honored he loves me.”
“Have you ever wished Shakespeare and you had children?”
Blue Water Woman was quiet a bit, then she said, “It is my one great sadness.”
“Forgive me for asking.”
“When a woman loves a man, she desires to please him every way she can. I know Shakespeare dearly desired a family, and I yearned to give him one. But it was not meant to be.” She paused. “Perhaps it is just as well. We married late in life. It is hard when you are old to keep up with the young.”
Despite their years, I did not think of them as old. “I hope to heaven I have half his vitality when I am his age. Or yours, for that matter.” She moved with a supple grace I found enticing.
“My husband likes to say we are as old as we think we are,” Blue Water Woman mentioned. “When he has lived one hundred winters, I imagine he will behave as if he has lived fifteen.”
I chuckled.
“But to answer your question, no, I do not regret taking him for my mate. I love him, and I will go on loving him with all that I am until the day I die.”
At that instant I would gladly have pushed Shakespeare McNair off a cliff. But I settled for saying, “He is fortunate.”
Blue Water Woman glanced back at me again. “Tell him what I told you, Robert, if something should happen to me.”
“Don’t talk like that,” I said. Intimations of death crept over me, but I shrugged them off. Nerves, I decided. Nothing but nerves.
“We all die.”
“Yes, but we need not die today.”
“The time and place is not always ours to decide.”
I was uncomfortable talking about it. “Perhaps you are mistaken. Perhaps they won’t come after us, and the rest of the day will be uneventful.”
Hardly was the statement out of my mouth when we rounded a bend and Blue Water Woman drew up so abruptly, I nearly walked into her.
“What is it?” I asked, stepping to one side to see what she was seeing.
“Stand still!”
On our left was a bank, approximately shoulder height. And crouched on the bank was a mountain lion.
Chapter Sixteen
I had never seen a mountain lion up close. I knew they were big, but I never thought they were this big. The specimen crouched on the bank was almost ten feet from the tip of its nose to the end of its tail, and had to weigh close to three hundred pounds. The upper part of its body was a tawny hue bordering on gray; below, the chest and underside were white. It had a broad nose and piercing yellow eyes. Dark patches on both sides of its mouth accented its whiskers.
Even though it was poised to spring, I was not especially afraid. I knew of only a few instances where cougars attacked humans. Usually, they ran off.
Blue Water Woman extended her pistol, but she did not shoot, which was wise in my estimation since she could not be certain of killing it.
Then a rumbling growl issued from the giant cat’s throat, and it bared its formidable fangs.
Fear spiked through me. Mountain lions are incredibly strong and inhumanly swift. What with their teeth and their claws, they can shred flesh to ribbons. Should this one spring, our lives might be forfeit.
Blue Water Woman sidled to the left so she was between the mountain lion and me. “I will hold it off as long as I can, Robert. Run and keep running until you are sure it is not after you.”
Her willingness to sacrifice her life to save mine moved me deeply. “What sort of man do you take me for?”
“A smart one,” Blue Water Woman said.
“I will not desert you, come what may.” The idea was preposterous. I might not be much of a protector, but I would do what I could.
The mountain lion snarled, its long tail twitching. The sinews on its powerful legs stood out as it prepared to leap.
Of all the ways to die, this would be extremely unpleasant. I cast about for a good-sized rock or something else to use was a weapon, and when I glanced at the mountain lion again, it had uncoiled slightly and was staring up the mountain, not at us. The next instant it whirled and bounded into the forest, a tawny streak that was gone in the blink of an eye.
“What on earth?” I said.
Blue Water Woman turned, then bobbed her chin. “I told you, Robert. As soon as it was light enough.”
Riders had appeared. Three of them, not two, threading through the trees. They were too far off to notice features, but it could only be our pursuers.
“Jordy, too?” I had hoped he was dead.
“I stabbed at his heart, but the blade glanced off a rib,” Blue Water Woman said.
They had not seen us yet. All three were scouring the ground for tracks, the Hook brothers on one side of the stream, Cutter on the other.
Blue Water Woman’s hand found mine. “We must be quick, Robert.”
We continued down the middle of the stream. Another bend temporarily hid us. I was anxious to seek concealment, but she kept going, glancing right and left. I did not appreciate why until we came to a gravel bar.
“Step where I do,” Blue Water Woman said.
The gravel bar was covered with small stones and did not yield to my weight. I understood immediately. Except for the wet imprint of our soles, which would soon dry, we did not leave tracks. Crouching low so as not to be seen from above, I followed her into the woods.
Our enemies were a quarter of a mile above us, still paralleling the stream.
“We must find a spot to make our stand,” Blue Water Woman proposed.
“Maybe they will go on by,” I said.
“They will find us. Come.” Blue Water Woman ran to the north.
I wondered how we were to fight three well-armed killers when all we had was a knife and pistol. I did not say anything, though. After we had gone a few hundred feet we came on a low bluff.
Blue Water Woman stopped. “This will do nicely.”
Approximately twenty feet high and twice that long, the bluff was an isolated island in a sea of trees, mainly spruce and pines. The side facing us was sheer, but the crest could be reached by slopes on either side.
Blue Water Woman jogged to the right and took the slope at a run. I was puffing for breath when I caught up to her.
“Why here?” I gasped.
“I have a clear shot,” Blue Water Woman replied. “Then it will be two against two.”
“Once you fire, your pistol will be useless,” I mentioned. “What about the two you don’t shoot?”
Blue Water Woman nudged a fist-sized rock with her toe. “We will use what is handy.”
“Rocks against bullets?”