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Redfeather burst into the cabin, chattering to Luther in his native language. Michelle turned from the fireplace, startled. It was barely eight in the morning, what had gotten Redfeather so frazzled? He always acted calm and composed. Maybe Black Elk died in his sleep, she hoped, as she carried the coffee pot to the table.
Luther answered Redfeather as he pulled on his moccasins. “Michelle, I gotta go. Get me my thick jacket.”
“Why? What’s going on? Go where? What happened?”
Luther ran into the storage room and came out carrying his new longrifle, bow, and arrows. “There’s no time to explain.” He grabbed his hunting knife off a shelf as he bustled around the cabin. “Black Elk saw tracks up on the ridge, not far from here. You stay inside until I get back.”
“Tracks? Tracks from what?” She trailed after him. “Where are you going?”
Luther glanced up from strapping the knife to his waist. “Hunting. We won’t be long.”
“We? I thought they were leaving. You’re going now? Can’t it wait until you eat? I made a batch of—”
“There’s no time. That bear’s out there and—”
“Bear?” A chill ran down her spine. Why did Luther have to say bear? Of all the mornings for this... “Let me go with you.”
“No. Absolutely not. You stay here.” He kissed her cheek. “We’ll be back soon.” He moved around her and headed out the door.
She rushed after Luther and Redfeather blocked the doorway. He folded his arms across his chest. “No, Ayasha. This is for men, not you. Stay inside.”
Michelle peered around Redfeather’s shoulder and saw Black Elk glaring at her from the yard. He had his bow and quivers strapped to his back.
“I’ll see you in a few hours,” Luther said as he and Redfeather strode to their father’s side.
Michelle leaned against the doorframe and watched the men hike into the woods. How could they leave her behind? She weighed her options. Luther would be angry with her if she disobeyed him, but if she didn’t, something terrible might happen. This hunt was more dangerous than he realized.
She hesitated for a minute, then darted inside and pulled on one of Luther’s jackets. She grabbed the ax from the woodpile as she headed up the trail toward the ridge.
Her heart fluttered as she wandered along the path into the woods. Last night she’d dreamt that Redfeather had come into the cabin and said, “I am sorry, Ayasha. Luther is gone. He is never coming back.”
She had woken up in the cabin, shaking like a leaf. After composing herself, she went outside and nestled in Luther’s arms. She didn’t want to worry him with her dreams. He had enough problems with Black Elk. Although she would probably get in trouble, she had to follow Luther. She couldn’t stay in the cabin and worry about him all day.
The sound of crunching leaves startled her, and she froze. Was it the bear? What if she found it first? What if it found her? She spotted a figure moving through the woods ahead of her and breathed a sigh of relief as she recognized Redfeather.
Michelle leaned against a large maple and waited for the hunting party to move on. She switched the ax from one sweaty hand to another and sniffed the air. It smelled musky. She noticed the dirt around the tree had been torn up. Something dark soaked the fallen leaves.
She peeked around the tree. Redfeather had vanished. Where did he go? She walked on through the woods, hoping to catch up with him. Being out here on her own was starting to unnerve her. All of a sudden, an arm wrapped around her waist and she was whisked behind a pine tree.
Luther and Black Elk waited beneath the pine. Black Elk scowled at her. Luther shook his head. “I shoulda known,” he muttered.
From the way Luther clenched his jaw, she knew he was furious. She had ignored his direct order. Even worse, she had disobeyed him in front of his father.
Redfeather released his grip on her. “Do not speak,” he whispered in her ear.
As she opened her mouth to explain, Redfeather squeezed her shoulder and pointed a few feet away. A huge paw print was pressed into the damp earth. Her mouth went dry as she realized how close the bear must be.
“I’ll take her back,” Luther said.
“No,” Black Elk spat. “The stupid white woman stays. Perhaps the bear will teach her some sense.”
Black Elk’s coal-black eyes bore into hers. “This is why you are no good. You do not listen. You do as you please. It has consequences.” He brushed past her, deliberately knocking into her shoulder as he headed to the bear track.
Luther smacked her hard on her ass. “Get going. I’ll deal with you when we get home. And be quiet, the bear’s close.”
Michelle fell in line behind Redfeather as Luther brought up the rear. Black Elk knelt and touched the ground, then spoke to Redfeather in a low voice. She knew better than to ask for a translation. Luther stepped from behind her and fanned out to the right. Redfeather moved to the left. Black Elk gestured at the ax she held in her trembling hand.
“That is your weapon?”
She nodded, too nervous to speak.
“This is what you need.” He unfastened the tomahawk from his waist and handed it to her. “The bear is near, follow me.”
Michelle obeyed, and Black Elk led her behind a tree overlooking a clearing. She wrinkled her nose at the strange, musky smell and tried not to sneeze.
Black Elk gripped her shoulder hard. “Look.”
She looked where he pointed. An enormous black bear stood a hundred yards away, feeding off a deer carcass. She watched in awe as the creature sliced through the deer with five-inch claws. The deer kicked and thrashed. It was still alive! She whimpered.
“If you move or make a sound, the bear will tear you to bits,” Black Elk whispered. “If you run, it will catch you before you take three steps. It weighs as much as four men. It is hurt and very angry.”
The bear growled, and she flinched. What had she gotten herself into? She inched closer to Black Elk and watched, horrified and helpless, as the bear dipped its blood-soaked snout into the deer.
“Please take me home,” she whispered. “I’m scared. I’m sorry, I—”
“Too late. Perhaps next time you will listen to your husband,” Black Elk said as he loaded an arrow into his bow.
Black Elk waited until the bear raised its head, then let the arrow fly. It whooshed through the air and sank into the bear’s front leg. The bear reared and pawed the air.
Michelle squealed at the sight of its huge jaws and pointed yellow-white fangs. A wave of dizziness overtook her, and she hugged the tree for support. Did Black Elk honestly think he could kill a monster with a flimsy piece of wood?
Another arrow flew from the opposite edge of the woods and lodged in the bear’s shoulder. The creature roared and loped off into the trees.
“Stay,” Black Elk barked as he charged down the slope.
Luther and Redfeather bounded out of the woods and ran after their father.
Michelle chased after the men, clutching Black Elk’s tomahawk in one hand and the ax in the other. Her heart pounded as she followed Luther around the edge of the clearing. She could hear the bear growling as it tore through the underbrush.
Without warning, Luther stopped short and backed up three paces. Michelle slid to a halt and collided into him. She stared over Luther’s shoulder and stifled a scream. The bear had circled back on them. Her knees shook as the beast huffed and grunted. Luther clasped her arm and dragged her behind a tree.
“Start climbing,” he whispered. “Get up as far as you can and be quiet. Stay put.” He crept around the tree and vanished into the underbrush.
The bear stood twenty feet away. Its heavy-throated panting sounded like snoring. It gnashed its teeth and thrashed its massive head from side to side, trying to bite the arrow embedded in its shoulder.
Finally, it snapped the arrow in half and yanked it out. Blood spurted from the wound. The bear rose up on its hind legs, and she got a good look at its swollen belly. All the fur had been torn out and the skin was red. Thick yellow pus oozed from a gaping wound in the bear’s stomach.
A movement to her left captured her attention. Luther aimed and fired his gun. The bear howled and fell back onto its rump.
Arrows flew from the other side of the clearing and stuck into the beast’s legs. The bear righted itself and clawed the ground. White, ropey strands of saliva dripped from its jaws as it growled and flicked its head from side to side.
Michelle watched as Luther left the safety of the trees and reloaded his rifle. He glanced at the bear, then focused his attention on his gun. In the blink of an eye, the bear charged. It swatted Luther and sent him sailing through the air.
She screamed.
Luther lay sprawled on his back, bleeding from his right shoulder. He didn’t move. The gun had been knocked from his hands and landed several feet away. The bear stood between Luther and the gun, growling like a demon.
Seconds later, a flurry of arrows landed deep in the creature’s side. The bear roared.
Michelle raced into the clearing. As she ran to Luther, the bear focused its attention on her. She stood her ground between Luther and the bear as it raised onto its hind legs. She craned her neck up and yelled into the beast’s bloodied and foaming face. Its hot breath stank like rotten meat. “Get the hell away from him!”
She hurled the tomahawk at the creature’s putrid belly. The weapon stuck in for a second, then fell to the ground. The bear bellowed and swiped the air in front of her with a blood-coated paw.
Michelle threw the ax as she sprinted for the gun. The ground shook as the bear chased her. Without wasting a second, she snatched up Luther’s rifle, turned, and fired blind. The shot echoed through the woods.
* * *
LUTHER SAT UP AND WINCED as a searing pain tore through his right shoulder. His jacket sleeve was in tatters. The bear’s claws had left long scratches in his flesh. He clutched the bloody wound and studied the bear lying motionless a few feet away. Its suffering was finally over. The Sauk had been right. There was a rogue bear in the woods.
He staggered to his feet and walked toward the bear. He had to make sure it was dead. The world spun, and he found himself sitting on the ground again. Redfeather was kneeling near the bear’s head.
Black Elk appeared beside him and examined his shoulder wound. “We can sew it up.”
“Where’s Michelle?” She must have fired the gun. He’d heard it go off. Everything had happened so fast. Michelle ran to his side, then...
“She should not have run,” Black Elk stated.
An icy chill ran up his spine as he grasped the meaning of his father’s words. “No.” He shoved Black Elk aside. Tears welled in his eyes as he stumbled toward the bear.
Redfeather blocked his path. “No, brother. Do not look.”
Luther pointed at the pool of blood beneath the bear. “Don’t tell me she’s under that thing. She’s not. Michelle ran away, that’s all. She got spooked and ran off. I have to find her.” He tried to head into the woods, but Black Elk grabbed him and held him back.
“It killed her,” Black Elk said quietly.
He collapsed to the ground. Michelle wasn’t dead. She couldn’t be. He’d feel it in his heart if she had died.
Redfeather knelt in front of him. “There is nothing we can do. She is gone.”
Luther cradled his head in his hands. How could Michelle be dead? He had told her to stay home. Why didn’t she listen?
A tear dripped down his cheek and he wiped it away. He looked into his brother’s dark brown eyes. “Don’t say that, Redfeather, please don’t,” he begged.
Redfeather pursed his lips. “Her head is in its mouth. I am so sorry, brother.”
His heart skipped a beat. Redfeather would never lie to him about this. He had lost his own wife and child three years ago.
A sob escaped his throat. “My sweet Michelle. She was the only one who ever loved me. That’s the bear from the ridge, Redfeather. I knew a bear would come for her and it did. And at the lake, you found the tooth, remember? We both knew it. I should have stayed with her. I should have known she’d follow me.”
He glanced up and caught Redfeather blotting his eyes. He hadn’t seen his brother cry in years. “I was angry with her. I told her to stay put. Those were my last words to her,” he said as he broke down in tears.
Redfeather cleared his throat. “You made Ayasha very happy for her time here. Live with that. You taught her well.”
“Not well enough,” Black Elk commented. “She was stupid. She should not have run.”
Luther slapped his father across the face. The sharp sound echoed in the silent forest. “Don’t you ever say that again, you son of a bitch.”
Luther struggled to his feet and approached the bear carcass. Several arrows protruded from its hide. He walked around it once. He couldn’t see Michelle. Maybe Redfeather was wrong. Despite what his brother said, his heart told him Michelle was still alive. “Are you sure, Redfeather?”
“Yes, Luther. It bore down on her as she fired. Do not look.”
“I have to see, to know. She died for me.” He glared at Black Elk. “She knew running would turn the bear from me to her. No matter what you think of her, she wasn’t stupid,” he snapped.
“Ayasha was very brave,” Redfeather agreed. “She ran to—”
“Shh.” Luther squatted next to the bloody bear. “I heard a noise. Redfeather, you sure this thing is dead?”
“Yes. It is. The shot tore through its neck and head. Now come away from there.” Redfeather tugged on his good arm.
“No, I have to see.” He bent near the bear’s mangled head and grimaced. Redfeather was right. Michelle’s head was in the beast’s mouth. Its massive jaws were open wide and its snout rested on the top of her forehead. A lower fang had cut into the bottom of her chin. Her face was covered in blood, and her body was pinned beneath the bear.
“Let Ayasha go, brother. Come away. We will take care of her and—”
“No.” He pointed at Black Elk. His father sat under a tree, ignoring them. “He hated her. He doesn’t touch her. He’s nothing but a—”
A wet gurgling noise caught his attention and he turned back to the bear. “She’s alive.”
“Stop it. It is in your mind. She is gone.”
“No, she’s alive.” He shoved at the bear’s shoulders, trying to get it off Michelle. “Please, Redfeather, I may only have a minute to say goodbye.” All he could hope for was a chance to make his last words to Michelle tender and sweet. He wanted to tell her how much he loved her.
He reached under the bear’s head and ran his fingers over Michelle’s face. Her lips trembled at his touch. “Pull her out, she’s still breathing.”
Redfeather picked up a thick branch and stuck it sideways into the bear’s jaws. As he pulled back the beast’s head, Luther dragged Michelle out by her shoulders. Her face and upper body were coated with blood.
Black Elk walked toward him. “What are you doing? She is dead.”
Luther hovered over Michelle and patted her face. He wiped the blood away with his remaining jacket sleeve. “Michelle, can you hear me?”
He squeezed her bloody hand. He needed what few precious seconds she had left to talk to her. Her body convulsed, and she made a wheezing noise in her chest.
Redfeather dropped to his knees. “By the Great Spirit, she is alive.”
Luther rolled Michelle onto her side and she coughed up a thick wad of blood. She was alive now, but he knew she might not last long.
“I’m here, darlin’. I love you and I won’t leave you.”
Michelle’s eyes fluttered open. “Luther, I—”
“Don’t try to talk, lie still.”
“Bear...” she croaked.
“Don’t worry, he won’t bother us again. You got him. He’s dead. You saved my life. You were very brave.”
He held Michelle as she coughed and vomited up more blood. She took a shallow breath. “I was scared, I—”
“I love you.” He willed himself to be strong as Michelle continued to spit up blood. That wasn’t a good sign. He saw Redfeather frown. Black Elk sighed as he knelt next to them.
“Water?” Michelle rasped.
“I’d advise against it,” Black Elk said.
Redfeather unfastened a water pouch from his waist. “I will not deny this brave and beautiful lady any request.” Redfeather lifted Michelle’s shoulders and Luther held the water pouch for her. After swallowing a few sips, she started choking and was sick again.
“I knew it would not help,” Black Elk commented.
“Shut your damn mouth,” Luther growled.
Michelle’s brown eyes searched his. “Why are you staring at me like that, Luther? What’s wrong? I want to go home. I’m cold. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you. Please don’t be angry with me,” she whispered.
Luther cradled Michelle’s head in his lap and stroked her face with his fingers. He wasn’t sure how much time she had left, but she deserved to go quietly. He sniffled and cleared his throat.
“I’m not angry, darlin’. Everything’s fine. I love you. We’ll go home soon. Right now we’re sitting here with you for a while, that’s all.” He swallowed hard. “I wanna let you rest a bit. I think you had too much excitement today.”
“Luther, you’re crying. What’s wrong?” Michelle tried to sit up, but Redfeather gently pushed her down.
“Lay still, Ayasha.”
Michelle glanced at Redfeather and a puzzled look crossed her face. “You’re crying, too. What’s wrong?” She gazed down at herself, then at the bear carcass. “Oh my God,” she muttered before she fainted.
* * *
DARK. WHY WAS EVERYTHING so dark? Where was she? She tried to move, but couldn’t. Hands groped beneath her clothes. Someone was feeling her chest, ribs, back, and legs. Hands that weren’t Luther’s reached under her shirt and pressed on her belly.
“No.” She thrashed against the darkness.
“Open your eyes.”
She obeyed Luther. She was lying in the clearing. Redfeather knelt over her. His wide hand rested on her belly. She swallowed and tasted something bitter and salty. “Luther, what’s—”
“Redfeather was examining you, making sure you ain’t hurt.” Luther smiled at Redfeather. “It ain’t her blood. It’s the bear’s.”
She shivered. “I’m cold.” She moved her head to the side as she was overcome with a violent coughing fit. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and gaped in horror at the blood smeared there. “What happened?”
“Shh, don’t get upset,” Luther soothed. “Lie still. You’re fine, darlin’.”
“Fine? I’m not fine.” She looked at her bloody hands and drenched clothes. The coppery taste of blood filled her mouth, and she vomited. “I want to go home.” She sobbed. “Please take me home.”
Luther kissed her cheek and rocked her back and forth. “You don’t know how good it is to hear you makin’ such a fuss.”
Michelle shivered as another chill passed through her. She spotted the bear carcass over Luther’s shoulder. All of a sudden, she understood. “You thought I was dead, didn’t you? That’s why you were crying.”
Luther kissed her forehead. “We thought the blood was yours and that the bear tore you open.”
“No,” she said. “I had to turn the bear away from you. I twisted my ankle when I ran. I fell, and the gun went off. I tried to scream, but something covered my face and I couldn’t breathe. I was crushed and then...” She didn’t want to think about the darkness or the eerie silence that had followed.
She buried her face in Luther’s jacket. “Please, Luther, take me home.”
* * *
“HOW IS AYASHA?” REDFEATHER asked.
Luther slumped to the ground next to his brother. He watched him turn the rabbits on the spit over the cookfire. “She’s resting. Her ribs are bruised and her ankle is swollen, but otherwise, she’s fine.”
Redfeather handed him the whiskey bottle. “Have another drink, you’ve earned it.”
Luther raised the bottle to the starry night sky. He took a long swig and stared at the full moon. Michelle was alive. He had whispered many prayers of thanks to the spirits as he’d tended to her. He had soothed her and washed away the blood as she cried in the bath. Redfeather had brewed a strong herbal tea to help her rest.
He frowned. The hide, claws, and head of the bear rested just outside the shadow of the fire. The sight of it sickened him. Black Elk had stayed behind at the clearing to examine the bear while he and Redfeather carried Michelle home.
The bear’s belly was sour. An old, deep wound had become rotted. Maggots had eaten away most of the bear’s insides. The meat was tainted, but they had taken the important parts.
Luther gestured at the bear’s head. “She ain’t gonna wanna see that here.” He gulped down more whiskey and rubbed his eyes. His lacerated right shoulder was sore and stiff, but Redfeather had sewn it up so it would heal properly. His body ached from strain and worry. All he wanted was to get drunk and forget about everything. “I don’t wanna look at it.”
“It is a trophy,” Black Elk commented.
Luther looked at his father seated on the other side of the fire. This was the first time he’d spoken in hours. Black Elk had been silent ever since Michelle had “come back” in the clearing.
“What about the bear ceremony?” Black Elk asked. “She should—”
“Don’t you tell me what she should do, you son of a bitch,” Luther snapped. “You didn’t care that Michelle was dead. I saw it in your eyes. You wanted me to leave her there.”
“Luther, you’re drunk,” Redfeather said.
“So what? I don’t give a damn. It’s about time I told him what I think. He never gave Michelle a chance. Fine. He hates me and he hates her, so why the hell does he stay?”
“Owl Feathers—”
He stood and waved the bottle at his father. “You’ve done enough damage. Get the hell out of my sight and don’t ever come back,” he snarled as he marched off toward the cabin.
