Hinge Pin 10

Misinterpretation

She was scared, well, more like very concerned, but with good reason. She had begged her father to do something that she could do too. Instead of just the guys, her father and three older brothers, going off together to hunt, she wanted something she could do too. For once in her life they had agreed to include her and look what it had got her; a trip to Yellowstone Park. OK, that didn't sound too bad but it was on horseback, umm, for two weeks, …wait it gets worse, with no guide just Dad's sense of adventure and a rough map. After all the fuss she had put up to be included she could not back out. She went. It had started out all right until they arrived at the outfitters. The horse she was assigned was not a horse but a mule, a slow, stubborn, easily distracted mule. This meant she continually lagged behind. After they made camp each evening the men would discuss what they had seen that day. She had nothing to say because by the time she had gotten there it had walk, flown or slithered away. She had asked her father if she could trade mounts but he had just said to 'Be Firm with your mount. Show'm who's boss!' Fine for him to say, his horse was trained and obedient. She had gotten on her mule and tried to be firm. Ever tried to be firm and make an animal do what you want when it is ten times as big as you, weighs ten times as much as you and has huge teeth and steel plated feet, and kicks? She gave up. The only consolation was that when the guys decided to stop and make camp they had to wait for her to get there, delaying their meal because her job was to fetch the water. That was the only consolation to make up for saddle sores, lumpy beds since the guys took the best spots before she got there and bland food. Well, there was the beautiful scenery, the quiet, the fresh air, and the inner peace that she experienced along the trail. OK, she had to admit, it wasn't all bad.

Day eight of ten dawned overcast. It looked like another day of rain like yesterday. From the commotion outside the tent it sounded like the guys were not going to wait out the rain. "Up you get, little girl. Can't let a little rain stop us." She felt sorry for the horses, they looked even more miserable than she felt. Another cold breakfast and they hit the trail. With the mud and slippery trail it took the guys a little longer to get ahead but soon enough she was alone again. She tried kicking and urging to no avail. The mule was going at his pace no matter what. She ended up sitting back and watching the scenery while trying to ignore the squishy sounds of the mule's feet and the jolts as those feet slid on a slick patch. It was actually pretty with the wet bringing out the various deep greens of the leaves and mosses and the shades of browns and blacks of the trunks and branches. Even the rocks and boulders were wearing their true colours. She wished she had her paints with her. There was no way she could capture the colours with pencil and paper but maybe when she got back she could try to reproduce some of this beauty. As the trail wound through the forested areas it passed through an occasional meadow like the one ahead. This one sloped rather sharply but a path had been carved out cutting across from one side to the other. As she come out of the trees she could see the different layers of hills, each one getting mistier the farther they were away. It was a beautiful scene, if you could ignore your mounts discomfort and the fact that the rain had soaked through the ends of your sleeves and down your neck. Only two more days and she would be on her way home to a hot bath, soft bed and better company.

For the most part she had let the beast pick the route and had become accustomed to the motion but it had suddenly changed. The animal had slipped, stopped and taken a few steps back to the edge of the trees. She looked around and saw no reason so she kicked her heels as her father had shown her. That got results but backwards instead of forwards.

"Blast You Stubborn Mule," she muttered as she tried again. Resigned, she climbed down and grabbing the reins she set off to lead the animal but was pulled up short when she came to the end of the reins. The damn animal was not budging, in fact looked like it was braced against her pull. All right, change tact.

She stood beside the mule's head and looked him in the eye. He did have a very noble handsome head but stubborn. "Look, Mule, we have to catch up with the others. Don't you want to be with the others?" Horses and mules were herd animals, weren't they? "Come on, pretty boy. Let's go home. Good Mule." No movement. She walked back to the mule and checked his legs and feet. Not that she would know if something was wrong but she had to look. Maybe something was wrapped around the mules foot or something tangled or a snake. She peered ahead along the path. Nothing. Damn.

"The longer we stay here, the further behind we get. We must get going." Then to sweeten the deal, she added, "There's a dry stall and good feed down the trail." Nothing. Damn stubborn Mule did not budge. "Damn. What am I supposed to do now?" It had been grey and overcast all day but now it was getting dark and the rain, a dull drizzle all day, was getting worse. "Dad!" she yelled. "Get back here and do something!" The sound was swallowed by the rain. Tears of frustration began to fill her eyes as she dropped the reins and turned to walk away. She had no choice, she had to keep moving.

She had taken no more than three or four steps when she slipped, fought to stay upright but failed, landing heavily on her left side. She continued to slide down the hill but when she turned to grab something to stop her descent she realized that everything was sliding. It was an avalanche, not of snow but dirt, mud, rocks, grass and bushes, everything. She was going to be buried alive. She may have screamed, it didn't matter, the rumble swallowed it. Fear added motivation to her scrambling, grasping and clawing at anything that might hold but it was futile. She was going to die.

Eventually her slide slowed and stopped while around her small stones and dirt clods continued to tumble down around and onto her. She lay still for a moment, listening, assessing before she raised her head to look around. She was lying diagonally along the hillside, head slightly downward. The whole meadow had slid and now instead of a green hillside there was a brown muddy gouge in the hillside. At it's widest it had to be five or six hundred yards across. She had been caught by the edge. Looking down was worse. There had been a stream winding through a valley. That was gone. Now there was a huge pile of rocks, dirt and boulders. Eventually it would hold back a lake but all she could think about was it could have been her tombstone. Laying her head back down she rested, closing her eyes and opening her mouth to catch a little moisture.

She had to get moving. Once again she looked up the hill. Too bad she couldn't call the mule and have him come get her. What had happened to the mule? Had he fallen too? Had he known? She could not see him but those were questions to be pondered later. Right now she had to get back up that hill and back to the trail, even if she had to walk all the way to where ever they had made camp. WHAT IF..?

No. They were farther ahead of her. This was just local. They probably didn't even know it happened. Boy did she have something to tell them tonight at the campfire, but first she had to get there. She wiggled her fingers. Her left hand was free and uninjured, her right was trapped in the muck but with a little pulling and wiggling it too was free. Sitting up carefully lest she bring on another slide she could see her right leg was buried but when she tried to move it her knee exploded in pain. Her knee was bent and any motion brought on fresh agony. Using both hands she dug out her leg, pulling rocks, mud and grass clumps out of the way. It was hard going but had to be done. Eventually she was free and was able to pull herself out and up the hill. Many stops to rest and catch her breath later she made it back to the trail's edge. The mule was not there. Her last hope gone she lay down in the mud and gave in to the tears, tears of exhaustion, pain and lost hope.

She may have dozed off but suddenly came awake, moving. Mudslide! She was going to be buried alive. She flung out her arms grasping, grabbing for anything to slow her descent. There was nothing except a soft whoof! and then a voice in her ear. "Easy. Easy now. It's all right. I won't drop you." She was eased back down from the dark into the light. Confused, she turned towards the source, a small flashlight lying on the ground and then to her rescuer, a large dark shape crouched beside her. A wide brimmed hat covered most of his head.

"Are you hurt anywhere? How about your ribs?"

The voice was soft and gentle so she relaxed for a moment then shook her head. "No, I don't think so. My knee."

"Can you ride?"

"Yes, I think so. But I can't get up, I've hurt my knee."

"I'm goin' to put my arm under your shoulders. Put your arms around my neck. I want to get you standing."

"I can't, my knee…"

"Just keep a hold of me. I need to get you up, get you somewhere warm an' dry." She felt him slide his arm under and she curled her shoulders up to make it easier, reached out, found his shoulders and held on. She felt him tense as he held her and lifted, his rain gear cold and wet under her hands. "I'm gonna lift you, I want ya ta lay across the saddle then swing your leg over."

The maneuver was accomplished with only a little difficulty and pain. Once she was settled he handed her the light and told her to keep it aimed on the path ahead. He then moved her foot out of the stirrup, placed his own in and mounted, settling in behind her. Reaching around her, he took up the reins and with a nudge with his heels they moved off into the night.

Each step taken by the horse was jarring her knee but it was better than laying there in the mud and rain. She was cold and wet but at least she was moving. Time passes slowly in the dark especially when you do not know where you are or where you are going. The lack of visual distraction allows your mind to wander. Who was this man? Where was he taking her? What happened to her brothers and father? What was that noise? Were those eyes watching them over there? Were there any wolves around here and would they attack a horse and rider? She barely suppresses a scream when a branch lightly brushed her arm. They travelled on, sometimes uphill, sometimes down.

Within the small circle of light she had watched the muddy trail wind its way past trees, around rocks and through meadows. The last thing she expected to see was a barn door. The horse stopped and the man dismounted. Taking the bridle he led the horse around the building and up to another door, a cabin door.

He helped ease her down and carried her inside. Taking the flashlight he stood it on its end on the table illuminating a peaked roof made of logs and boards. After lighting an oil lamp he helped her out of her wet rain gear, over to the cot and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. Next he lit the fire in the wood stove. Once he saw it was going he picked up the flashlight, turned to her and said he would be back. With that he was gone.

She pulled the blanket closer around her and shivered as she looked around. It was a small room in a log cabin with the wood stove by the back wall. The bed was a shelf built into the one side wall stretching from the back wall almost to the front. A tall cabinet stood in that corner. It had a padlock on the hasp but it was open. A small table and two chairs sat under the one window on the other side of the door. A long bench ran along that wall. A bucket and basin sat at one end. Keeping her leg straight she shuffled to the edge of the bed closer to the stove. Where had he gone? The room began to warm as the fire popped and hissed. She eased her coat off then lay down just for a moment. She had questions for her mystery rescuer when he returned.

Chopping wood early in the morning was part of his routine, a good way to get going. Chop some, pile it on the far end then bring in an arm load for cooking. He rarely kept the fire going except in the winter but the injured girl needed to get warm and dry. She would also need hot food. There were no eggs but he did have some smoked venison and he could cook up some flat bread. That with a cup of coffee would help. Gathering up an armload of wood he pushed open the door and stepped in. Out of respect he had slept in the tiny barn but when he looked in the window she was still asleep on the bed so he had stuck to his routine of chopping the wood then washing before putting on his shirt. Now she was standing beside the door where she had been looking out the window and he was bare-chested, his shirt hanging on a nail outside. He had no choice but to walk in and put the wood down beside the stove.

"I'll be right back." Grabbing a small cloth he headed back out. There was a small stream nearby and that was where he washed. What he needed was a basin to bring her some water but all he had was the coffee pot. Company was not something he had ever had to contend with. When he was clean and dried he put on his shirt and buttoned it. He was proud of his achievement. Applying for the job at the Park had been difficult but he had kept the image of his friends in his mind. He had failed them so badly. Maybe he could redeem himself somehow and to do that he had to have a job.

He wet the cloth again and returned to the cabin. Normally he left the door open when he was here but to give her some privacy he had closed it, so he tapped on the door and opened it slowly.

Seeing her sitting on the bed he handed her the cloth. "I'm sorry I don't have a basin or a towel, but you can use this to at least wash your face.

"How's your leg feel this morning?" Her presence here was making him nervous but he had to know if she could travel.

She looked at the cloth and then at him and said, "Are you inferring my face is dirty?" Her voice had taken on a haughty tone.

Chief was shocked. His eyes widened and his mouth opened. No words came to mind until she grinned and laughed.

"I'm just kidding. I survived a mud slide last night so… That really happened didn't it? I didn't dream that?"

Used to the kidding of Goniff he remained straight faced and said, "What mud slide?"

It was her turn to hesitate. She looked down at her boots beside the bed, her pants and then up to the handsome man's face. She saw the grin there and knew he had played the game too. She smiled. He was incredibly handsome when he smiled.

"Thanks," she said as she put the cloth to use. "My leg's a lot better. My knee doesn't hurt as bad." She looked down to her leg. "You did a good job on the splint." Noticing something she stood and took a limping step closer as she lifted her hand towards his neck. She saw the wariness flash in his eyes and how he pulled back from her but she kept her hand moving up until she touched his neck. The wariness turned to shame as she touched the scar below his ear.

Chief waited for the reaction, the disgust, the horror but it did not appear. Instead she lightly traced the scar back and up into the hair line and asked in a voice softened with concern, "What happened?"

"It was during the war."

She looked him in the eye and smiled. "You're a war hero." Her face was rather plain, he would not have noticed her in a crowd but her smile was warm and accepting.

"No. I'm no hero. I got sloppy." The pain returned.

"You are a hero. You went half a world away and fought for everyone's freedom. That makes you a hero. My uncles, on my Mother's side, were heroes too," she said proudly but then added sadly, "but they didn't come home. My brothers were in school and my Dad …. Well he said he was not cut out to be a soldier even though he loves guns and goes hunting all the time. Something about a bad heart."

She giggled. "Here I am delving into your past and I don't even know your name." She thrust out her hand and said, "Hi, my name's Sarah. What's yours?"

He was embarrassed that she had seen him not only without his shirt but had seen the scar he was most ashamed of. Anyone else he would have backed off with a glare or a threat but there was something about this lively young girl in his refuge. She had nearly died in a mudslide which had injured her leg, been found by a stranger and had to spend the night alone in a mountain cabin with him nearby, yet here she was making a joke out of introductions. He couldn't help the smile as he played along. Taking her hand, he said "Hello Sarah, pleased to meet you." He nodded over her hand. "They call me Mangas but you can call me Rainy."

"Hello Rainy, pleased to meet you too. Is this your place?" she asked as she gestured around the cabin.

He looked around. "No. I'm a Park Ranger and this belongs to the Park."

"I hope you like your job because you look like you belong here." She took in his lean build, shaggy black hair and deeply tanned face. Seeing him bare-chested swinging an axe as the sun crested the mountain had been a sight to see. He just seemed to fit here.

Chief had no idea what to say to that so he asked if she was hungry. After fetching the required supplies he set to making breakfast. She offered to help but when he said she was to rest she watched. The meal was eaten in relative silence. Once completed, he washed up and began preparations to return her to her family. He explained that because of the hills he had to keep the radio about a quarter of a mile further up the mountain. The night he had found her he had radioed the news to the Station. Her father and brothers had not arrived but someone would go out to meet them and let them know she was safe.

Once ready, he went out to the barn then returned to help her. She was surprised to see two mules standing there patiently by the door, one of which was the one she had been riding. "Never thought I would see you again. Where did you find him? I thought he had taken off back to the stable."

"He found me. Walked right up to the barn door and asked to be let in. It's because of him I went looking and found you."

"It's because of him I almost died in a mudslide. If he had kept up to the others then I would have been safe."

"He must have had a reason. Mules are smarter than horses."

"I thought he was just being stubborn," she said as she reached up to rub his nose. The second mule pushed forward to get some of the attention. "Oh you are a pushy one." Using her other hand she gave him some attention as well while Chief double checked the cinch and inspected the animals' legs.

As she rubbed his nose she could not help admiring the second animals face. He was darker though he retained the light muzzle of his sire. As he swung around she saw the sun light reflected in his dark coat. He was beautiful.

He helped her mount then swung up into his saddle. He looked to see that she was watching and then urged his animal to lead off. The trail was narrow and angled downward forcing them to ride single file, the damp earth absorbing the sound of the hooves unless a shod hoof struck a stone. A short distance later they came out of the trees as the trail ran along the side of a cliff. He stopped and waited for her to move up beside him.

"Watch. There she is," he said quietly as a huge dark shape glided over their heads. The dark form floated, seeming to hang motionless until with a slight movement of the wings it slid sideways and moved off. They sat watching for a moment. It was such a beautiful sight to see an eagle so close framed against the sky and then see it slide off against the sunny valley below.

"How did you know she was there?" she asked the awe evident in her voice.

"They often use this area because of the updraft here. The air moves across the valley and then when it comes to the mountain it rises. The birds use this to gain altitude. Condors use it too. She and her mate have a nest nearby."

"Wow."

He waited to let her enjoy the view before moving off again. A few minutes later he stopped. "The trail splits up ahead. The down trail will take us to the Ranger station in about two hours. The other will take, maybe, four or so." He looked to see her reaction and was not disappointed.

It was such a beautiful day. The rain had ended, the sun was shining and a soft breeze brought the smells of the forest. She wanted to find out if her father and brothers were all right but she did not want this to end. Besides he was handsome. She smiled and said, "I take it the other has its merits?"

He smiled a quiet smile. "You could say that."

"Okay."

They urged their mounts upward and headed along the trail. Along the way he pointed out the sights and sounds. Sarah was impressed with his knowledge. She had to admit the peace and the beauty was incredible. The man beside her was well worth the longer trip too. Eventually they came to a stream and began following it upriver. Not far ahead she saw the small pond at the base of a rocky cliff.

"The water's not too deep. If you wanted to get a better wash, this is a good spot. I'm afraid the mudslide had has blocked the waterfall but you can still wash if you like and no I am not saying you stink."

He said it so smoothly that she did not catch the last part right away but when she did she laughed. "I like your sense of humor." She wanted to say what else she liked but was too embarrassed.

"I guess a bit of a wash would be nice." As he came over to help her down she added, "This would make a great picnic spot."

He agreed and helped her to the edge of the pool. There was a rock right at the edge and he helped her sit and took off her boots. Sarah grinned slyly at her assistant and said, "You know a girl could get real used to being treated this way." The way he tensed she suddenly realized how it looked. To cover she added, "I'll bet your wife loves that about you and don't worry I won't tell."

"I, uh, I'm not married."

"Girlfriend? You must have a girlfriend, a handsome man like you?" Sarah was not known for keeping things to herself.

He shook his head, avoiding her eyes and all she could come up with was, "Oh." A moment later she said, "They must be blind."

The silence hung between them like a wool blanket as she put her feet in the water. She took off her jacket pushed up her sleeves and reaching down gathered water in her hands and splashed her arms. The water was cold but refreshing. Wishing she had a towel she was pleased when a small cloth was handed to her.

"Thanks." She dried her arms and the foot she could reach as she watched him squat beside the pool looking out across the water and up into the surrounding trees. Was he watching for something or just being careful? Or was he just interested in everything? Maybe that was how he knew about the eagles and the other birds and animals that lived here in the park.

It was so beautiful here that she did not want to leave. Fearing he would get up she asked, "How did you get that scar? You said it was during the war."

Chief shot her a quick look. He had not told anyone. It was his brand of shame, his mark of dishonour. She seemed to look on him as a hero for rescuing her so maybe it was time to show her the real person who had done nothing but bring her in out of the rain.

"It was at the end of the war. We were supposed to be shipping out the next day but this mission came up. The CO of the team that was supposed to go got appendicitis so we were sent. It was my job to protect them, to watch their backs so they could do what they were supposed to but I…" His voice tightened with the pain. "What we had to do was easy; we'd done it lots of times before. I must a got careless because they all got hurt, hurt bad. It was my fault they got hurt." As hard as the words were to say, he had a lot of practice. He had beaten himself up with them for months. It never got easier; each time brought the pain back like the day it happened.

"And what happened to you?" Her voice was a gentle plea, a nudge, urging not accusing or demanding. He surrendered.

He hung his head in shame and turned away but her gentle touch on the side of his face brought him back. His brow furrowed and his eyes darkened with pain. "I got a cut on my head.

"They almost died and then as hurt as they were," his voice sinking in anguish, "they had to come back and rescue me. It was my job to back them up and because I failed they almost died."

"And they blame you?"

He nodded sadly. "I saw the looks on their faces. They didn't want to be anywhere near me but they had to because we were a team."

"And when you got back?"

"We split up. They stayed at a fancy hotel and I headed south.

"Have you tried contacting the others?"

"How could I after what I did?" he asked sadly. Obviously he missed them. "They know what I did and hate me for it. I don't blame'em..." Then almost as an afterthought he added, "Besides, I don't know where they are."

"The Army should have their addresses."

He looked embarrassed and sad. "We weren't in the Army."

"But I thought you said …"

"We worked for the Army," he said with a small smile, "we weren't actually in it."

There was a pause as she considered this. "Oh. But who gave you your orders, who told you where to go, what to do? Army's big on orders, chain of command, aren't they? He should know, shouldn't he?"

"He wasn't too pleased with me either. He's not gonna want to hear from me."

"Why not call him. Maybe he might have had time to cool down." She watched him look down at his feet and shake his head. He did not want to have to hear the rejection.

"I hope someday to be able to prove myself, to show that… I don't know, that I'm not that person anymore. If I can…" He ended with a shrug.

"Tell you what. Give me his name and I'll write to him. If he doesn't answer or says he doesn't want to see you then I'll just say, um, he left no forwarding address. That way it won't seem like a rejection."

He hated to dampen her enthusiasm, she sounded so pleased that she had come up with a way to help but he had to set her straight.

"I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of and some I am ashamed of but I never hid behind a woman's skirt, especially a pretty one."

"A pretty one?" she asked coyly.

"Sorry, I shouldn't a said that."

"Why, because it's not true?" There was a touch of anger. She knew she was not pretty but he had no cause to tease her.

"No, I didn't mean that."

"Then what did you mean." She was serious and he was flustered. He took a deep breath.

"That was a backhanded compliment. If you're goin' to compliment someone you should do it right, not like that."

The smile replaced the anger. "That was not a backhanded compliment. In fact that was a gentleman's way of softening a refusal. I thought it was kind of sweet." If she had though he was flustered before, it was nothing like now. He blushed and refused to meet her eye.