would have the good sense not to. The same with McNair. But Zach jabbed his heels against the bay and started up.
Almost immediately dirt and stones spilled from under the bay’s heavy hooves. The bay snorted and stopped, and Zach urged it on again. He held his rifle low against his left leg, the reins in his right hand.
Up above, Lou was startled by a clatter. She looked down, and her heart leapt into her throat. It was Zach, coming to save her! She opened her mouth to shout a warning, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw the warrior smile.
The Outcast was pleased with himself. He had planned well. The woman would yell. The breed would forgo all caution and charge up the slope. The talus would bring the breed’s horse down, leaving the breed on foot in the open, within range of his arrows. Then he realized the woman was looking at him.
A chill rippled through Lou. She knew that if she shouted, Zach would come flying up that treacherous slope —which she now suspected was exactly what her captor wanted him to do. She saw an arrow notched to his bowstring, an arrow meant to take her husband’s life, and she acted out of sheer impulse, out of her love for the man who had claimed her heart. She threw herself at the warrior.
The Outcast was caught off-guard. He had expected the woman to shout. With her ankles bound, he’d felt she posed no threat. But suddenly she was on him, raking at his eyes with her nails, a fierce gleam in her eyes that made him think of a mountain lion protecting her kittens or a shebear, her cubs.
Lou’s one hope was to blind him. She couldn’t hope to overpower him; he was much too big and too strong. So she clawed at his eyes with both hands while driving both her knees at his chest.
The Outcast was knocked back. He rolled as he hit the ground and she clung to him like a bobcat to its prey. He wanted to hold on to the bow, but if he did she would take out an eye.
Lou missed his eye but opened his cheek. He kept turning his head to thwart her. When he tried to roll on top of her, she kicked out with all her might with both legs.
The Outcast was sent tumbling. He lost the bow and the arrow and came to a stop on his stomach. Placing his hands flat, he went to push up and realized he was on the talus. He rose as high as his knees and looked up just as the white woman launched herself at him.
Lou gave no thought to her safety, no thought to the life in her womb. She thought only of Zach and what her captor would do to the man she loved if she didn’t stop him. She slammed into the Outcast’s chest so hard that it sent pain shooting from her shoulder to her hip. The next instant she was on her side and sliding.
The Outcast was sliding, too. He thrust his arm down to stop, but he was caught in a flowing current of stones and dirt.
Below, Zach drew rein in amazement at the sight of his wife and her warrior captor locked in mortal combat. He saw Lou hurl herself at the warrior and both of them tumble down the slope in a rush of broken earth. “Lou!” he bawled in alarm.
Louisa heard him. She sought to arrest her slide, but the stones tore at her palms and fingers. Her legs, bound as they were, were of little use. She remembered her father-in-law telling her once about the time he was caught in a talus slide, and how he had stayed limp and loose and let the talus sweep him along. So long as she didn’t fight it, she might reach the bottom alive.
The Outcast dug in his heels and clutched at the talus, but he might as well have clutched at sand. He couldn’t stop sliding. Worse, he was sliding ever faster and dislodging more and more talus. He was like a ball of snow sent rolling down a slope, gathering speed and growing in size. Dust enveloped him like a cloud, making him cough, making it hard to see.
Zach started to rein to Lou’s aid and stiffened. A twenty-foot section of stone and earth was sweeping toward the bottom, carrying Lou and the Blood with it—and coming directly at him. He reined around, or tried to, and suddenly the bay was kicking and whinnying as the slope gave way under it. Zach threw himself clear as the bay came down on its side. Fortunately they hadn’t climbed far. It was only a dozen feet to the bottom. Zach came to a stop and stood.
Lou swatted at the cloud of dust. She remembered her condition, and put her hands over her belly, fearing the outcome should she careen into a boulder. She glimpsed Zach down at the bottom and was glad he was safe. Then she realized she was sliding toward him, along with tons of dirt and rock, and a warning cry was torn from her throat.
Zach looked up. He ran to the bay, grabbed the reins, and tugged. The horse pumped upright and stood trembling. Quickly, Zach swung on. He reined the bay around and sought to gallop out of there, but the next second the the talus was upon them. Stones and dirt and dust eddied about the bay like water. The horse managed a few strides and was brought down again, whinnying as they were swept toward the trees.
Once again Zach flung himself clear. A spruce loomed and he tried to roll to the right, but he only partially succeeded. His ribs exploded with agony, and he almost lost his grip on the Hawken.
Lou was on her back, her heels up, praying desperately for deliverance. She had lost sight of her husband. She could no longer see the warrior. Under her, the talus moved like a living thing, bearing her with it. She was helpless in its grip, an ant caught in an earthen cataract.
The Outcast was doing all he could to stop his fall, and everything he did failed. His hands were torn, his feet battered. The quiver was torn from his back. He twisted to try to get his arms and legs under him, and was sent toppling out of control. Vaguely, he was aware of a large boulder in his path. The thud of contact caused his senses to reel and the world to dim. He shook his head to clear it in time to see another boulder. He hit it excruciatingly hard. He was conscious of flying through the air, of slamming down, of being swept along, a roar in his ears, dust in his nose and mouth and eyes.
Zach turned to look for Lou. A fist-sized rock shot at him like a cannonball and he went to duck, but it caught him on the side of the head. He cartwheeled. The sky and the ground changed places. A tree loomed. The world faded to black and he felt dirt sliding over him, and then there was nothing, save an abyss that sucked him into its inky depths.
Lou thought she would suffocate from all the dust. It made her eyes sting and water. She blinked and swiped at them with a sleeve and cleared them in time to feel the dirt give way under her and her body start to sink. Loose earth and stones flowed over her. She swatted at it but there was too much for her to stop it from covering her. She couldn’t help herself; she screamed.
As abruptly as it began, the slide was over. The scream died and the roar faded and the rock-and-dirt avalanche came to an end. In the ensuing silence, nothing moved.
The talus was empty of life.
Chapter Twelve
Indians used the travois when they moved from one site to another. It consisted of long poles lashed together and covered with a hide. Shakespeare McNair made sure the travois he rigged was good and sturdy before he covered it with a buffalo robe. Then he carefully carried his wife from the bed and out the front door. She was still much too weak, but she had recovered enough to put her arms around his neck and teasingly regard him with a playful gleam in her eyes.
“My, how strong you are. It is good to know the pots and pans will not strain you.”
Shakespeare was turning so he could lay her gently down. “Pots and pans?”
“One of us must do the cooking and wash the dishes after we eat.”
After wrapping her in the robe, Shakespeare stepped back. “There. You should be comfortable enough.”
“Didn’t you hear me?”
“Yes. I’m ignoring you. I wouldn’t let you cook anyway, in the shape your in. Nor wash clothes nor knit nor fetch the eggs from the chicken coop. Leave it all to me.”
“How kind you are,” Blue Water Woman said merrily. “I had forgotten your domestic skills. You use them so rarely.”
“‘Dost thou jeer and flout me in the teeth?’ ” Shakespeare quoted.
