Chapter Eleven
Hazel re-tied the splint around Buck's injured leg. She thought it best to take advantage of his unconsciousness while she could. As long as he was out, she wouldn't hurt him any further. She could still hear his cries of pain in her head. They were a constant reminder of what she caused. She had so much to make up for, but Hazel didn't think she was in a position to make up for much out in the wilderness. She had no skills and they had little by way of equipment. Buck's knife was the only tool they had between them and the thought of using it, frightened Hazel. She shook the whole time she used it to gather the bark for Buck's tea.
The snow in the wooden bowl had melted and was starting to steam. Hazel didn't know how much of the willow bark to add so she nudged Buck a few times to wake him. She needed to wake him anyway as they couldn't stay out in the elements for very much longer. The temperature was starting to fall and Hazel couldn't drag Buck into the shelter. She would need his help to get him inside.
Hazel took in the sight of Buck Cross as he slept. It was almost a pity she had to wake him. He looked so comfortable and if she were being honest with herself, handsome. Yes, she thought Buck was handsome. Hazel groaned and covered her eyes with her hands. This couldn't be real. Sure she dreamed of him taking her, but that was a silly dream brought on by exhaustion and the delirium of sleep. She was awake now and in control of her desires and feelings. Hazel remembered the way Buck used to look at her in town before the dance. He admired her from afar. She knew he did. He didn't look at her like that anymore though. She had ruined it. Hazel thought she caught a glimpse of that same look today while she was trying to start a fire. She knew he was looking at her lower leg. She thought he found it pleasing.
'Oh this is stupid,' Hazel chastised to herself. 'I do not have feelings for Buck Cross.'
She tried to put him out of her mind. Hazel looked around at the camp and shelter. She couldn't live like this. She wasn't outdoorsy at all and well...Buck wasn't a proper suitor for a woman like her anyway. Her mother would be scandalized. Her father probably wouldn't mind given the reaction he had to her prank the night of the dance, but her mother would disown her. It was all moot anyhow. Buck had no interest in her anymore and never would again. Not after she robbed the bank. There was no redeeming herself in his eyes. She would be foolish to try. All she could do now was to try to stay alive and keep Buck alive too -just like he had done for her.
A small moan shook Hazel from her thoughts. She looked over and Buck's eyes were beginning to flutter open. She let out a sigh of relief. Buck would know what to do next.
"Buck?" Hazel ventured to say. "Wake up. I need you to tell me how much bark goes in the tea."
Hazel saw Buck's eyes open and she smiled in relief. "How much bark goes in the water?" she asked as he began to focus.
Buck sat up and took a look at the bark, picked up some pieces, and handed them to Hazel. "I think this should do it," he said.
Hazel dutifully put the bark in the bowl to steep and waited until Buck was ready to drink it. "Is your leg feeling better?" she asked making small talk.
Buck nodded. "It still hurts like hell, but the willow bark should help with that," he said.
Hazel hated the awkwardness between them, but there really wasn't anything to be done. Buck was never going to be her friend. They were out here in the wilderness because they were trying to survive. As soon as they got back to town, Buck would probably never speak to her again.
"I should teach you how to set a simple snare," Buck said.
"A snare?" Hazel asked. "For what?"
"To catch us some dinner," Buck answered. "I can't do it, so you're gonna have to."
"I can't kill a bunny," Hazel whined. "They're too cute."
"Then we're gonna starve."
"But now that your leg is set, can't you do all that stuff?" Hazel asked.
"My leg is set, but I'm far from healed," Buck said annoyed. "You have to take on a little bit more. I can still cook and skin whatever you catch and do other things close by, but I'll need your help with the rest."
Hazel made a disgusted face. "I'm not capable of such...such..." she said searching for a defense.
"Usefulness?" Buck supplied sarcastically.
Hazel opened her mouth to protest, but stopped. Who was she kidding? Buck was absolutely right. She was pretty useless out here. She sat quietly trying not to cry and trying to figure out what to do next. She wanted to be defiant or anything that would let her save face, but she was not sure it would even work anymore. It would just make Buck more hostile toward her and even though she was fighting it, she didn't want him to hate her.
Buck grabbed some sticks and pulled out his knife and started carving notches in the sticks. "I'm sorry," Buck said. "I shouldn't have said that."
"No, you're right," Hazel said. "I am not helping anything. You would be snug in that cabin if it hadn't been for me. Hell, you'd have been snug in the Express station bunkhouse if it wasn't for me."
Buck didn't argue with her and Hazel felt even worse. "Teach me to set the snare."
Hazel was full of resolve and Buck almost looked surprised to her. He set up the sticks to resemble the number 'four'. "Find something heavy to brace up against the top," Buck instructed. "When the critter takes the bait off this stick, all the sticks will fall and the weight will drop. You shouldn't have to kill anything if you find a heavy enough rock or log. It will already be dead when you go to check the snare in the morning."
Hazel practiced a few times putting the snare together while Buck carved another set. After several tries to assemble the snare with Buck's coaching, she felt ready. She looked at the sky. The sun was starting to become heavy in the west. "I should get going so I can find my way back here," she said. "Do you need anything before I go?
"Why don't you pass that bowl over here," he said as Hazel got up to leave. "I think the tea is ready."
Hazel picked the bowl up and handed it to him. "Will you be ok while I'm gone?" she asked concerned.
Buck gave her a look that Hazel took to mean he would be better off without her and she frowned. She had a lot to make up for. She looked at the sticks in her hands and hoped she would be up to the task. She'd never done anything like this before and she kind of hoped that she would never have to again.
Hazel tromped off into the woods looking for the animal trails Buck had described to her. He said they would look like normal paths in the woods that people would use. She couldn't recognize anything of the sort. Buck made it sound like it would be easy and she admitted it did sound easy. She was coming up empty so Hazel decided to look for large heavy rocks instead. She would need those to make these little sticks do what Buck said they would.
Finally finding what she thought would be a heavy enough rock, Hazel pulled the bundle of sticks from her pocket. She looked at them and tried to remember how they went together. It was easier when there were just three sticks, but now there were six. She tried all sorts of combinations but couldn't seem to get any of them to work. Hazel tossed the sticks to the side out of frustration. Her eyes welled up with tears.
"Oh why am I never paying attention to the right things?" Hazel asked the empty woods. "This is why nobody likes me. I'm not as smart as the other people my age. They all love to trick me into doing things that either embarrass me or hurt someone else. They always make it seem like my idea. But they don't really like me. Hazel is always good for a laugh!"
Hazel plopped down on a downed log and thought about the people she counted as friends. It seemed her friendships were always conditional upon doing other people favors. It wasn't her idea to toss paint and feathers on Buck at the dance, but Mason threatened not to be her friend anymore if she didn't do it. He didn't even give her a chance to react before he threatened her. In the end she agreed, because well, Buck wasn't a socially acceptable friend to have anyways. She didn't think she would be losing anything by being mean to him. But now Buck was a real person to her, one with feelings. Hazel couldn't think of a single one of her 'friends' that would have helped her out of this mess she'd made. Everyone one of them would have fled and let her fend for herself. Hazel knew this to be true. Even Mason would have ditched her. Buck didn't leave her. Buck saved her from herself and those bad men. He had so many opportunities to turn her out and he didn't. Hazel felt so mixed up. Her mother always told her that appearances mattered. That the company one kept was how others judged the worthiness of people. Hazel was always trying to associate with the right people and Buck was not the right people. Nobody except those Express riders thought that Buck was the right people.
Standing up, Hazel started to pace a bit. None of this made any sense. Was it better to have one good friend that was socially unacceptable or a bunch of fake friends that were? Are appearances really that important? Mother always said so, but perhaps she had been deceived.
It was too late for her and Buck to be friends. She had made sure of that when the first droplets of paint hit his suit jacket. The look of betrayal on his face was too great. She sealed it when she robbed the bank and he ended up being a hostage. She could never make up for either of those things. In fact, it was only a matter of time before he extracted his revenge. She'd seen it in her circle of 'friends' before, so she knew it was coming. When one of them was wronged or slighted, especially Mason, revenge was extracted. Buck would do the same. If what Mr. Tompkins said was true, his revenge would be swift and cruel. It was the way of the world as far as she knew. She would have to be on her guard and most importantly, she would have to stop having romantic feelings about Buck. It would only serve to hurt her in the end.
Hazel sat back down on the downed log and looked at the sticks strewn around her. She really needed to get the snares set and get back to the camp. After staring at the sticks for a few minutes, she started to notice things about them. A couple of the sticks had notched in the same place and we about the same size. Another couple of sticks had the same pointed end. The last pair had similar notches and angled ends. Hazel felt a relieved smile cross her mouth. Perhaps she could still do this. In the past she would be tempted to just run back to the camp and lie that she had set the snares and blame back luck when she would go back to check them in the morning. She was very hungry and didn't have that option. She had to think things through for once in her life.
Arranging the sticks into like pairs Hazel quickly figured out that taking one from each pile would make one snare. It took her a few tries to get it to stay together, but once she figured it out, she put some bait on the stick and set the snare. Breathing a sigh of relief, she moved along to try and find another suitable rock or log for a deadfall. Hazel looked up at the sky. She had better hurry. The sun was starting to set and she would need the light to see by to get back to camp.
A/N: Thanks again for reading and reviewing. I must thank Beulah again for her attention to this story and her help sorting out the finer details! You are marvelous! Thanks to the ladies on google plus for all the companionship, love, and support.