Chapter Twenty-Three

"Mebbe this could be a good resting point, Theophilus," Annie suggested.

"Madam, I assure you that my reading voice is as strong as ever." Doc glanced up from the pages, then drank the dregs of tea from his cup. Truth to tell, he'd lost himself in the play, drawing on all those past experiences of watching the play on stage till reality had faded around him. He'd given himself over to the machinations of Macbeth and his lady, and the foreknowledge of the price they were both going to pay for their treacheries.

Annie smiled good-naturedly. "Your voice is good, and strong and vibrant. And I'm enjoying the story, but you've interested me in other things, as well."

Doc slipped a finger into the pages of the book, holding his place. "Pray tell, what other things, dear lady?"

She laughed at him, a full-throated guffaw that she gave herself over to. "I thought we might start with a bath."

Doc's face flamed in embarrassment, and he was at a loss for words.

Annie mistook his inability to speak. "Unless—you're not able for such playing."

Doc found his voice. "Dear lady, I am flattered by your offer, truly."

"You trying to tell me you're not interested? I know I don't look the way I did when I was a girl, but I thought I could still turn a man's head."

Placing the book on the table, Doc hesitantly reached out for Annie's work-roughened hands. He smiled reassuringly at her, surprised at the thin threads of insecurity in her eyes. "You do turn my head, Annie, and do not let this snow on the mountain fool you." He brushed at his long gray-white hair. "There is still a fire down below."

"Mebbe you'd like to prove that." Her voice turned her words into a mocking challenge.

Doc found himself strongly attracted to the woman. He lifted a hand and ran the backs of his fingers along the side of her face, coming in toward her eye. Her flesh felt hot against his. "You have strong cheekbones, and a fine face. Lips that are full, as well as full of promise."

"I've lived a lot of hard years," she said in a softer voice. "They show."

"All the years that are left to any of us are hard," Doc countered. "You will feel better after that bath."

"I don't want you to get the wrong idea," Annie said. "I'm not in the habit of offering myself to just any man that comes along. Mebbe I'm even making a fool of myself with you. Could be you'll get me off to myself and slip a knife blade between my ribs."

"No," Doc replied.

"I have my own reasons for my generosity, for opening the trading post and its store to you and your friends."

"My companions and I are already aware of that."

"I know. Damn me if I know what makes you so different than all the other men I've seen."

Doc shrugged.

"So, you think you'd really like to have that bath with me?"

"At the moment, dear lady, I can think of nothing more that I'd want to do."

Annie approached him and took his hand. "Then come with me."

"Madam," Doc said earnestly, "I have every intention of doing just that." Her touch was electric.

RYAN JOINED DEAN in the hayloft. The boy shifted slightly, making room. He kept his Browning Hi-Power in his fist.

"Anything?" Ryan asked. He stared down into the inner courtyard of the trading post. The sec men floated in loose, easy circles on the elevated boardwalk built on the palisade walls.

"They keep moving around," Dean said, "but mainly they're just checking the perimeter. Keeping things buttoned down. Guys act like they're on condition red."

Ryan silently agreed. He lay on his stomach and surveyed the sec men.

"It would be better," Dean said, "if we could just get out of here now."

"Yeah."

"Can't do that without Doc, though. And I don't think Krysty's up to traveling tonight if the river's going to be rough."

"You're right." Ryan glanced back inside the barn. Krysty was in the horse trough below, soaking in the water. He'd helped her bank the fires around the trough, bringing the heat back up. J.B. brought new buckets of water as the water started to steam more forcibly. Krysty's skin pinked up with the heat of it.

None of the Idaho Falls survivors had interacted with the companions and stayed huddled in their group. They'd been given self-heats from the provisions Ryan had taken from Max, and were working their way through them.

Morse's oldest boy had gotten up from the place where he'd been sitting and was casually making his way around the barn's interior. His path was gradually bringing him closer to the stall where Krysty bathed in the trough.

It was one thing, Ryan knew, for the companions to see each other undressed. That was just naked. It happened when a person took his or her clothes off, and there were plenty of reasons to take clothes off. But the Morse boy's interest wasn't to be tolerated.

Ryan signaled, catching Jak's eye.

The albino cut his gaze to the approaching Morse boy. Jak slipped one of his leaf-bladed throwing knives from inside his clothing. With a quick flick, still from a seated position, he threw it at the Morse boy.

With a squall of real pain and fear, the boy jerked his head back, raising a hand to his face. When his fingers came away bloody and he saw it, he screamed again.

Morse jumped to his feet, turning toward Ryan in rage. "Cawdor, what the fuck are you doing?"

"Your boy's nose was getting too long for his own good," Ryan said. "Took a bit of it off for him."

Morse grabbed his boy when he came close enough, peering in consternation at the wound. Maybe a quarter inch of the boy's nose had been removed at the end of his face, sliced cleanly, giving it a whole new tilt.

"You had no call to do that!" Morse screamed.

"Could have chilled him then and there," Ryan said. "Still can if I want to. The boy's eyes were wandering too much for his own good. I could have had those taken instead of a bit of his nose."

Morse glowered at Ryan, then bellowed at his other son to go get water and rags.

"Use some kerosene on his nose," Ryan said. "You don't want infection to set in. His face'll rot off if you're not careful."

Finished with her bath, and maybe self-conscious because she figured out what the event had initiated, Krysty got out of the trough, dried herself and dressed. "Ryan," she called out when she finished.

"Be there in a little bit," Ryan called back. "Want to take a look around first." He turned to his son. "Dean, you go on down and get a bath."

Dean didn't look happy about the prospect.

"Go on," Ryan said, "and make sure you get clean."

Reluctantly Dean clambered down the ladder leading up to the loft. He hooked his feet on the outside edges and slid down.

No longer worried about being spotted by the sec men roving through the trading post, Ryan stepped out of the hayloft and grabbed the outer edge of the roof. He pulled himself up onto it with a smooth roll of muscle. Gaining his feet, he carefully moved across the sharply slanted roof. In winter the slant would aid in keeping snow off the roof, but now it made the way treacherous. Still, the roof got him close enough to the boardwalk around the interior of the palisade fence to jump the distance.

He landed hard, one hand still clutching the Steyr. He kept walking toward the river side of the trading post, knowing he'd drawn the attention of the roving sec men. His new boot heels gripped the rough bark of the half-cut trunks making up the boardwalk, and the sound of them hitting echoed around him. As he neared the river, he heard the thunder of it, louder than he remembered when they'd put in at the small pier at the bottom of the drop-off.

When he reached the palisade wall, he peered down.

The river had swollen a lot more since they'd arrived at the trading post. The water level was now up high enough to run over the top of the pier, spilling whitecapped runnels across the surface like a spiderweb. The boat yanked at her mooring lines and anchor, bucking restlessly, like a live thing in a trap as it sought to follow the river's course.

Getting away from the trading post by boat was out of the question, Ryan knew. Even if Junie survived the effort, there was no guarantee that they would be able to stay aboard and work the sails.

He turned away from the river and made his way back to the barn. At the moment, they were all trapped by their needs.

He wondered what was keeping Doc.