Chapter 10: Snow

                When it got so dark Logan couldn't see a trail anymore, he stopped the horses beside a clear stream. Jubilee got off and automatically started untacking the horses as Logan went into the underbrush.

                It took almost an hour before he found a rabbit trail, and another hour before he saw one. He shot it quickly and took it back to camp. Game here was awfully scarce, he mused as he skinned the rabbit, saved the fur to make a winter jacket for Jubilee, and handed her the rest to cook. Was this why the wolf had strayed so far from its territory? Because it couldn't find food here? He suddenly found himself pitying the wolf, but one look at placid, lazy Molly chewing grass at the edge of the camp circle firmed his resolve. Jubilee had been hurt by the loss of her beloved pony. And he was thoroughly disgusted with Molly by that point.

                The kid was tired, ate quickly, then unrolled her blanket and lay down, going promptly to sleep. He shook his head as he finished the rest of his supper. He always wondered how she managed to do that, fall asleep as soon as she put her head down. "Children sleep soundly," Red Doe had told him, but it still surprised him how fast she could conk out. He supposed it was because of her days on the railroad, when she had to take advantage of every minute she could take because the others would wake her up to… he suppressed a shudder, unrolled his own blanket, and banked the fire before slipping into a light doze.

                He woke to her gentle touch on his shoulder. "Logan?"

                He sat up, instantly alert to the wary tone of her voice. Beyond the fire, Molly and Dark Star were shuffling restlessly, whinnying defiance at the darkness. He grabbed his rifle as he looked in the direction she was looking, and saw two eyes gleaming back at him through the darkness. Jubilee grabbed another piece of wood and threw it on the fire, which flared into new life.

                In its light he could see the wolf. A lean, slat-sided animal, skinny as a rail, clearly starved. Its eyes gleamed with a feverish light, and he saw the long string of slaver dripping from its jaws. He sprang up, alarmed. This wolf was mad, and so was doubly dangerous. A mad wolf would not hesitate to attack people, even ones close to a fire. If it bit him, or worse, Jubilee, they'd die an extremely slow, painful death. He had to kill this wolf before it hurt either of them.

                Jubilee knew something was wrong with it. "What's wrong with it, Logan?" she asked, her voice trembling.

                "It's sick," he said, grabbing a branch without taking his eye off the wolf. Thrusting it into the fire until it was alight, he handed it to Jubilee. "If he jumps fer ya, stick this in his face. Don't let him bite ya, whatever ya do."

                The wolf looked at both of them, as if weighing its options, and Logan watched it carefully, waiting for any sign that it had made its decision. Without warning, the mad wolf rose from a standing position straight into the air, launching itself at Jubilee. She screamed and swung the burning brand at it, jabbing it in the face as its jaws snapped air just inches from her face. Logan froze, helpless; he couldn't shoot while girl and wolf were so entangled. Screams and snarls filled the night air.

                A ghost-like apparition appeared out of the night; another wolf. Logan raised his rifle, aimed and squeezed the trigger. The shot cracked through the night air, but he was shaking at the sight of two mad wolves this close together, and missed.

                The other wolf landed on the other side of the fire and snarled viciously, not at him, but at the other wolf.  Logan froze.

                The mad wolf must have gotten the message, because he turned and snarled at the other wolf. Logan cringed at the sight. Jubilee had done her best with the burning brand; the mad wolf's fur was singed across its chest and side. One eye looked like it had been burned, and was leaking blood down its cheek.

                Jubilee scrambled out of the way of the two wolves, and Logan, sensing the two wolves were engaged with each other for the moment, grabbed her arm and pulled her free of them. "You okay?" he said quietly, batting at the small tongue of flame on her sleeve. Thank goodness she was wearing the doeskin Indian tunic and breeches Red Doe had made for her, because if she'd been wearing white man's clothes she'd be badly burned by now. Leather didn't go up as fast as cloth did.

                "Yeah, I'm okay," she gasped. "He didn't bite me." She turned her attention to the two wolves, and gasped when she saw the other wolf. "Snow!" she cried out.

                The other wolf, a snow-white one with incredible blue eyes, looked at her briefly. Logan sat back, shaken. Jubilee's eyes were the same color as the wolf's eyes. If he believed Running Wolf's talk of totem spirits, of guardian spirits, he'd swear that the wolf Jubilee called Snow was her guardian spirit.

                The mad wolf charged Snow while the white wolf was distracted by Jubilee. Logan raised his rifle and shot. The mad wolf stopped in mid-stride, fell to the ground, and didn't move again.

                Jubilee was sobbing in relief as she ran to the white wolf. "Snow," she cried, "Oh, Snow, I missed you!" She threw her arms around the wolf before Logan could tell her to be careful, and the wolf lowered his head and licked her tear-smeared cheek.

                Logan lowered the rifle. There was something else going on here that he didn't know about, and he figured he'd find out who this wolf was before he shot again. "Uh, kid," he started.

                Jubilee turned her tear-streaked face toward him. "When I was in the servant's camp alone after the Indians went, one of the dogs in the camp had puppies. She died after giving birth to them, and the one cow left couldn't produce enough milk to keep the others alive. I milked her every day and fed Snow, because he was the strongest and the one I thought would survive. He stayed with me until the Railmaster came up and took me on the train, and I assumed he'd just gone away. I could still hear him sometimes at night, a long lonely wolf howl, but I thought it was just wishful thinking. But you were there all the time, weren't you, Snow?" she turned back to the wolf and hugged the big head. The wolf whined and licked her again.

                When she stood up her tunic was stained red with blood. Logan lunged for her. "Jubilee!"

                "It's not mine," she gasped, falling to one knee, "It's Snow's!"

                Logan looked down, and realized he hadn't missed when he shot after all. Snow's front leg hung awkwardly from his shoulder, and blood stained the fur. Jubilee took the hanging limb gently, and although Logan knew it had to hurt the wolf terribly, he didn't snap at or growl at the girl. He did, however, snap at Logan when he tried to come near.

                "Snow! Stop that. Logan's going to help you." She turned pleading blue eyes at him. "Won't you?"

                Logan hesitated. "Kid…Jubilee, look, I don't go huntin' wolves, but I ain't gonna help them neither; they raid my chicken yard too many times."

                "Snow won't hurt the chickens. I'll teach him not to. Please, Logan. He was my only friend before you. He's the only one who ever loved me." The wolf whined and licked her gently. "Please?" Logan hesitated.

                Jubilee turned to him. "Please, Logan. I'll…I'll do anything. I'll do all the chores. I'll cook for you and clean for you and anything you want me to do. I'll--" she swallowed convulsively, and dropped to the ground in front of him on her knees in the dust. "I'll wear the slave collar. I'll be your slave. Just…please, he's hurting, and I can't help him. Please, Logan."

                He couldn't stand that begging, pleading note in her voice. He hauled her roughly to her feet, pricked by sudden jealousy that she would offer such loyalty to a wolf, and wondering if she would ever care about him that much. "Don't kneel," he said. "I hate that! All right, I'll take care of yer blasted wolf. But if he gets in my chickens, yer the one's gonna haveta pay." He shook a finger at her as he went to his saddlebag for the emergency medicines and supplies he always carried with him.

                The morning sun found them making slow progress down from the foothills back to the ranch. Logan had bandaged the wounded leg as best as he could, but he couldn't retrieve the bullet until they got back. Molly objected strenuously to Jubilee's insisting that Snow be carried on her back, but Jubilee threatened the mare with her switch until the horse subsided. She allowed the wolf to be draped across her back with bad grace, and seemed to pick the rockiest ground to walk on to jar her patient.

                Jubilee had put her blanket on the horse's saddle before draping Snow's front legs over the right side. She tightened the rest of her pack straps, slung it over her back, and started to walk, grimly carrying the weight of her own pack and leading Molly. Logan had to admire her tenacity and stubbornness, but as the day wore on and her shoulders seemed to bow further with the weight, he finally lost patience with her stubbornness and stopped them. He took the pack from her and heaved it across Dark Star's saddle, and they went on.

                As soon as they got into the ranch yard Jubilee took the wolf off Molly's back gently and laid him on the ground. The animal seemed groggy, and lethargic, but still managed to raise his head and look after her as she disappeared outside. And when Logan started to kneel beside him to take a look at the wound, the wolf gave him a growl and a snap that clearly said 'stay away!'

                "Jubilee!" he called out the back door. "Get in here, yer blasted wolf ain't lettin' me look at him."

                She untacked Molly and stored her gear in the barn, then came running. With her holding the wolf's head and murmuring soft words to him, he got the bullet out, then cleaned and dressed the wound. The wolf whined, but didn't snap at the girl or growl at him. He seemed to understand Logan was trying to help him.

                Jubilee looked at the wolf as Logan stepped back. "What's that stuff you give me to make me go to sleep after a bad dream sometimes?" she asked him. He went and fetched a bottle of the medicine Red Doe had given him a few weeks ago. Jubilee had bad dreams sometimes, really bad ones that made her scream in her sleep. Logan would wake up in the middle of the night and walk around the partition to wake and soothe her, then he'd give her a cup with a few drops of the medicine in it to help her fall asleep.

                She mixed the medicine with the water, and dipped her fingers in it and held them to the wolf's lips. The wolf opened his mouth, and the fingers disappeared inside. Logan held his breath, but the fingers came out a few minutes later clean and unharmed. He raised an eyebrow. She must be used to doing this; both of them looked as though they were comfortable with the whole process. She carried the wolf into her side of the cabin after he finished all the drugged water, laid him down on the braided rag rug beside her bed, and came out wordlessly, going straight to her chores.

                When he had gotten his hands washed free of the wolf's blood he discovered that she'd done all the chores. She'd milked the cow, fed the pigs and chickens, watered the cows and horses, and even gotten dinner started. She ate quickly, waited until he was done, and took care of the dishes. He found himself with nothing to do, so he picked up a narrow strip of leather and started making a bridle. He was still at it later when she came in. She watched him for a moment, then went to her bed. When next he turned around, she was asleep.

                He looked at her thoughtfully. She was always helpful; but was this sudden helpfulness because she took the whole slave thing seriously? Nah, he decided, probably not. Just thankful that I helped her wolf friend, is all. He reached out to touch her cheek gently. In the month since she'd come, she had filled out nicely. She was perpetually hungry, but the food she ate was putting some agreeable curves on her body, in all the right places. She was beautiful, he realized suddenly. The brave had been right. And Running Wolf had been right. He was going to have a headache with the Indian braves knocking on his door.

                He went to his own bed, lay down, and stared at the ceiling. He didn't want to see her with an Indian, come to think of it. He was friends with them, and they were fine, but he didn't think an Indian man would ever understand how she needed to be treated, would never understand how being a former slave had scarred her soul. They didn't have slaves. They didn't even understand the concept. Would an Indian warrior wake up when she was in the middle of one of her bad dreams and go to her, stroke her hair, and comfort her? Would he hold her and rock her and soothe her while she cried until she went back to sleep? Or would he yell at her, call her a stupid white squaw, and beat her for waking him up? He wasn't sure he'd be able to stand that. But if that was what she wanted, he would give her to an Indian. He would do anything she wanted, he realized. He loved her. She truly was his daughter, in every way that counted except blood.

                He reached under his bed for the small wooden box he had kept for the last ten years, and opened it. Inside was an old black and white photograph of his wife, Annie, dead these ten years after giving birth to his blue-eyed baby girl. A little girl that had only lived two days after her mother had died, leaving a gap in his soul that ached so badly he'd left home to escape the memories and come out here. Here, where he'd found a blue-eyed child who needed him. And he'd needed her too, though he hadn't realized it. She filled that gap in his soul, eased the heartache he'd felt after Annie and Alice died.

                He closed the lid of the little box with a soft sigh and lay back on his bed, falling into a deep sleep. Two blue-eyed girls chased him through his dreams, laughing, one with black braids and one with blond curls.