“If you calm down, I’ll let you go.” When she went limp, he released her, then turned her to look at him. “All right, so you don’t approve of shooting eagles so—”
“Why did they do that? What good does it do those men to kill those magnificent birds? Even I can’t cook an eagle.”
“Glad to hear that,” Cole said, then when Kady started to turn away, he caught her arm. “All right, it’s done now. No one can bring the birds back. The men will sell the feathers and make some money; it’s over.”
“Oh? What about tomorrow? Will they get up tomorrow morning and kill more eagles?” She took a deep breath. “Cole, you just don’t know what has happened to the birds and animals in my time. People have built houses on most of the open land, so there are no more nesting places; they use automatic weapons on the poor creatures; they—”
“I get the picture, but what can I do? Would you like me to pay a high price for the feathers so the men would have no more reason to hunt?”
“The higher the price, the more birds they’ll kill. I know you can’t stop all hunters everywhere from killing them, but can’t you stop those men from their butchering? Just those three men?”
As Cole looked down into Kady’s big, pleading eyes, he knew that he might not be able to stop the men, but he’d die trying. His mind raced with ideas of how to stop them. Put a few arrows into them? Threaten them that if they ever again killed one of those damned birds, he, Cole Jordan, would personally find each man and kill him? Even as he had the idea, he knew it would take more than one man to put a lifelong fear into those hunters. Money had a way of making men dare anything.
As another idea came to Cole, he began to smile, smile in a way that made Kady know that he meant to do something that wasn’t exactly fair and square. Maybe wasn’t even legal.
“You’re not going to hurt anyone, are you?” she whispered. “You wouldn’t use those arrows of yours to—”
“I want you to swear to me that you will sit right here, be quiet, and watch. Nothing more. You won’t get involved. Promise?”
“I can’t make a promise like that. What if those men try to shoot you?”
He tucked a curl behind her ear. “Would you care?”
“Of course. If you were dead, who would help me find the petroglyphs so I can get back to the man I love?” Kady knew she was reminding herself of her great love because right now she couldn’t seem to remember any world except this one. And maybe she couldn’t remember any man except this one.
A little frown crossed Cole’s face as he took her hands and squeezed them. “Remember that you need me. Please remember that if you make any noise or sudden moves, the men will shoot me. If I were gone, then who would be here to protect you?”
“Oh,” Kady said, eyes wide; then from the look on Cole’s face, she thought he might be teasing her. Or maybe she was afraid because she’d watched too many westerns where everyone was shooting everyone else. “What are you going to do?”
“Something groovy,” he said, eyes sparkling.
For a moment Kady looked at him in consternation before she remembered her overly long lecture on the origins of illegal drugs in America. Maybe she had become a bit sidetracked in talking about slang and white go-go boots and crack and rap. Before she could make a reply, he kissed her mouth quickly and sweetly, then slipped silently into the darkness.
Se
ttling herself as though she were in the audience at an amphitheater, she watched the men across the ravine prepare themselves for the night. Yawning, Kady couldn’t help but envy them and wished she could cuddle up with Cole and—No! she told herself. She wanted to go back to her own bed in Virginia, and tomorrow she’d see Gregory. She did not want to snuggle in a sleeping bag with her husband—with Cole, she corrected herself. She wanted Gregory, not Cole.
A movement across the ravine caught Kady’s attention, making her sit upright. But what she saw caused her to rub her eyes. A nearly naked man with skin the exact color of the mud buildings behind him silently moved in front of the now sleeping men and tossed a bundle of grass on the fire. Then, removing a pair of eagle wings from where they hung on the walls, he began to fan the flames, making the smoke envelop the sleeping men.
With eyes wide, Kady watched, knowing that the weeds on the fire were stalks of wild marijuana. He certainly does catch on quickly, she thought with no little disgust.
As tendrils of the smoke wafted across the ravine, Kady stretched out on her stomach and watched as Cole moved about in the light. He wore nothing but what looked to be a loincloth, his big, muscular torso almost totally naked, only the mud drying on his skin covering him.
Whether she liked him or not, whether she wanted to be with him or not, she had to admire the beauty of him. He’s my husband! she suddenly thought, then told herself to get that idea out of her head. Husband of convenience only. Gregory was her real husband—or at least soon would be.
“Whatever is he doing now?” Kady whispered aloud as she watched Cole take down the wings and bodies of the poor, murdered eagles, then disappear behind the old walls. It seemed hours that he was gone, and for a while she watched the men, sleeping in their cloud of drugged smoke, but then Kady also started to drift into sleep. Maybe the smoke was reaching her as well as the men.
She awoke to an unearthly screech, coming awake so quickly that she bumped her head on a low tree branch as she looked across into the light. An apparition had leaped from the old ruins, and for a moment, Kady’s heart beat so wildly that she didn’t realize that the creature was Cole.
A phantom, vaguely shaped like a man, but as dark as a shadow, vaulted toward the men, its body covered with parts of the eagles until it looked like a two-hundred-pound bird ready to attack.
Cole had tied wings onto his arms; more wings encased his strong legs. His face had become the beak of the bird of prey, the distinctive white feathers of the bird covering his head and neck. He looked like a spirit set on avenging the deaths of his murdered brothers.
If his appearance weren’t enough, there was his screech, the piercing call of an eagle, but louder, more maniacal, that cut the air like one of Cole’s knives.
The three hunters, in a marijuana stupor, sat up slowly, looked at the gigantic eagle looming over them, then seemed to take an eternity before they could gather their wits enough to be afraid.
Cole, who seemed to be enjoying his role of terrorizing the men, spread his winged arms and flapped them over the head of one man until Kady almost felt sorry for the hunter. The other two men didn’t need such close persuasion, as they leaped up, bumping into walls as they fought disorientation as well as terror. When they tried to grab their rifles and handguns, Cole’s screeches became almost demented, as though the eagle was going to tear them to pieces.