Chapter Thirteen

 

 

“Did you find anything?” she panted.

Paul straightened his shoulders. “I found the road.”

“Yes,” she replied. “It’s right over there.” She pointed in the direction he’d just come.

Paul glared at her. “You mean you knew?”

“Of course I knew,” Melody retorted. “I told you I searched the area when you were unconscious. Did you not believe me?”

“I believed you,” he replied. “but you didn’t tell me we were so close to the road.”

“What difference does it make?” Melody asked. “We’re still here, miles from anything.”

“You don’t know we’re miles from anything,” he argued. “There could be houses or farms or barns or just about anything on that road.”

“Did you look?” Melody asked. “There isn’t a building in sight in either direction as far as you can see. That’s how I know we’re miles from anything.”

“We could walk along the road until we find something,” Paul suggested.

“We could walk along the river until we get to the timber camp,” Melody pointed out. “What’s the difference?”

“We’re more likely to find something sooner on the road,” Paul replied. “And what we do find will more likely have some resource we can use. We might even find some people who will either take us in or take us home.”

“They won’t take us in for the whole winter,” Melody declared. “and they won’t take us home in this weather. A wagon couldn’t get through this snow, even if it is on the road.”

“They might loan us a horse,” Paul replied.

“You’re just guessing that they might,” Melody shot back. “They might rob us and kill us, too.”

“We haven’t got anything to rob,” Paul pointed out.

“They might just as easily turn us out into the snow to freeze to death,” Melody continued. “In the time it takes us to walk to the nearest house or barn, where we don’t know what or who we will find, we could walk to the timber camp, where we know for certain we’ll be safe.”

“It will take us a lot longer than that to walk there,” Paul insisted. “We won’t make much progress in this snow.”

Melody’s voice rose a notch. “It will take just as long to walk to a house. It took us three days in the wagon to get from the cabin to Boise, and that was going along the road down the mountain. We traveled maybe one day’s journey on the horse to get here, and the timber camp is on the river at the base of the mountain. If we leave first thing in the morning, we could be there by the end of the day. Then we can rest there.”

“Get there in a day?” Paul guffawed. “You’re out of your head!”

“You said we could see the base of the mountain from here,” Melody reminded him. “If it’s that close, then we can walk there.”

“We aren’t walking there,” Paul declared. “If we go anywhere, we’re going on the road.”

“You said there were guns and ammunition at the timber camp,” Melody continued. “We can hunt from there.”

“We?” Paul repeated. “Who’s ‘we’? You mean me. I’ll be hunting, if anyone is.”

Melody brushed his objection aside. “Does it matter who does it? We can hunt from the timber camp. We can’t hunt from the road. If we wind up in another abandoned barn, we’ll be just as stuck there as we are here.”

Paul smiled at her to try to soften the argument. “Let’s not talk about this anymore.”

But Melody wouldn’t be placated. “We have to talk about it, Paul. If we don’t do something soon, we’ll be dead.”

“We’ll be dead either way,” Paul muttered.

“Why don’t we at least try to get to the timber camp?” Melody suggested. “It’s better than just sitting here waiting for death.”

Paul passed his hands over his eyes. “I don’t want to argue about this anymore. We have a comfortable place here. Let’s just wait a little longer to see if the weather improves.”

“We can’t wait,” Melody insisted.

“Stop,” he growled. “Just stop. Just leave it alone, will you?”

“I won’t leave it alone,” she shot back. “We’ve left it alone too long already. We could have been in the timber camp days ago.”

Something snapped inside Paul’s head. His shoulders swelled up and his fists clenched. “Not another word about this,” he bellowed. “No more. I’m finished. I’ve made my decision. We aren’t going to the timber camp, so stop talking about it. I’m the husband and it’s my decision. We’re not going. That’s the end of it.”

Melody drew herself up to her full height, which was still only as high as Paul’s chest. Even so, Paul quaked in his heart when he saw her. All her withdrawn timidity from the weeks at the cabin vanished. She neither feared nor esteemed him. She held herself equal to him in every way, and she knew as well as he did that her skills and her accomplishments proved her his equal.

“I won’t stop,” Melody told him. “You married me. I’m your wife. If you’re going to be married to me, you’re going to hear what I have to say.”

“Then maybe I won’t be married to you,” Paul declared. He hitched the shawl around his shoulders and walked away.