Two Alone

He was staring at Cooper as though he were Satan himself, who had sprung up out of the ground straight from hell. Even Rusty was quelled by the evil threat in Cooper’s eyes. But she was trembling with relief to see him.

“I said to move away from her.” Cooper’s voice seemed as deadly as his knife. It was void of inflection, emotionless. The younger man took two exaggerated steps away from Rusty. “Now, drop the rifle,” Cooper told him.

Since it appeared that the attacker was human after all, the younger man’s face puckered with rebellion. He whined, “Pa, do I have to do—”

“Do as he says, Reuben.”

Reluctantly the younger man tossed down his hunting rifle. Cooper kicked the two rifles now on the ground out of reach and gradually released his stranglehold on the man. He stepped around him and stood beside Rusty, facing the two. “Rusty?” She jumped. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.”

“Did they hurt you?”

“They scared me, that’s all. I don’t think they meant to.”

Cooper didn’t take his eyes off the two men, but regarded them warily. “Who are you?”

His bark carried more authority than Rusty’s feeble question. The older man answered him at once. “Quinn Gawrylow and my son, Reuben. We live here.” Cooper didn’t even blink. The man went on. “Across the deep ravine.” He hitched his chin in that direction.

Cooper had discovered the ravine the day before. The stream where he’d been getting water lay at the bottom of it. He hadn’t crossed it to explore because he hadn’t wanted to leave Rusty alone that long. He thanked God now that he hadn’t. These men might be perfectly harmless. Then again, they might not be. His suspicious nature had served him well on more than one occasion. Until they proved to be otherwise, he’d consider this duo the enemy. They hadn’t done anything harmful so far, but he didn’t like the way the younger one was staring at Rusty as though she were a celestial visi

on.

“What brought you across the ravine?” Cooper asked.

“We smelled your wood smoke last night and this morning came to investigate. We don’t usually see other people in our woods.”

“Our plane crashed.”

“That’s what the young lady said.”

She’d been elevated from a little girl to a young lady. Rusty silently thanked Cooper for that. She, too, was unnerved by the younger man’s stare and inched closer to Cooper, taking shelter behind his arm. “How far are we from the nearest town?” she asked.

“A hundred miles.” Her hopes plummeted. The man obviously noticed. “But the river isn’t too far.”

“The Mackenzie?”

“Right. If you reach that before it freezes closed, you’ll catch a boat on its way down to Yellowknife.”

“How far to the river?” Cooper asked.

The man scratched his head beneath his wool stocking cap. “Ten, fifteen miles, wouldn’t you say, Reuben?” The younger man bobbed his head, never taking his lustful eyes off Rusty. Cooper squinted at him, his stare malevolent and dangerous. “Could you direct us to the river?”

“Yes,” the elder Gawrylow said. “Tomorrow. Today we’ll feed you. Let you rest up.” He glanced down at the fresh meat Cooper had dropped. “Would you like to follow us to our cabin?”

Rusty glanced up at Cooper expectantly. His face remained a mask as he studied the two men cautiously. At last he said, “Thanks. Rusty could use the food and rest before we strike out. You go on ahead.” Using his rifle, he pointed them toward their camp.

The two men bent to pick up their rifles. Rusty felt Cooper’s muscles tense with precaution. But the father and son shouldered their rifles and turned in the direction Cooper had indicated. Cooper glanced down at her and spoke from the side of his mouth. “Stay close. Where’s the knife I gave you?”

“I left it behind when I went—”

“Keep it with you.”

“What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing.”

“You don’t act very glad to see them. I’m delighted. They can lead us out of here.”