His only comment was a thin-lipped “Yeah.”
The Gawrylows were impressed with Cooper’s improvisations. They helped gather up the pelts and the belongings Cooper and Rusty had salvaged from the crash. Nothing in the wilderness was ever wasted. Reuben kicked stones into the fire to make certain it was out.
The band, under Quinn’s guidance, with his son following closely, set out for their cabin. Cooper brought up the rear so he could keep an eye on both Gawrylows and on Rusty, who was making admirable if awkward progress on her crutches.
The men seemed to be well-meaning, but Cooper had learned the hard way never to trust anyone. He’d seen too many soldiers blown to bits by hand grenades handed to them by smiling children.
At the stream they paused to rest. Rusty’s lungs felt as though collapse were imminent; her heart was beating double time; and the crutches were chafing her armpits, even though Cooper had tried to prevent that by padding the tops of them with articles of extra clothing.
“How are you doing?” he asked her, uncapping the thermos and passing it to her.
“Fine.” She forced a smile.
“Does your leg hurt?”
“No, it just feels like it weighs a ton.”
“It can’t be much farther. Then you can lie down for the rest of the day.”
The Gawrylows waited patiently nearby until she had regained her breath and was ready to start again. “We’ll cross at the easiest point,” the elder one informed Cooper.
They walked along the streambed for several hundred yards. At any other time, Rusty would have been entranced with the landscape. The stream was crystal clear. It gurgled over rocks that had been polished as smooth as mirrors by the gallons of water that had rushed across them. Towering trees interlaced and formed canopies overhead. The evergreens were so deeply green that they appeared blue. The leaves of the deciduous trees ranged from vivid red to vibrant yellow. Encroaching winter had already caused many leaves to fall. They provided a crunchy carpet beneath their feet.
Rusty’s chest was burning with exertion by the time the Gawrylows drew to a halt. She laid her crutches on the ground and gratefully sank down onto a rock beside the stream, which ran shallow at this point. The side of the ravine rising up on the other side of the brook looked as high as the Himalayas.
“This is it,” Quinn said. “I’ll lead the way. Reuben can carry the woman. You can bring your gear.”
“Reuben can bring the gear. I’ll carry the woman,” Cooper amended in a steely voice.
The older man shrugged and ordered his son to take the bundles from Cooper. Reuben did so, but not without shooting Cooper a sour look. Cooper stared back at him unmoved. He didn’t care whether Reuben liked it or not; he wasn’t going to let those grubby hands get anywhere near Rusty.
When the father and son had moved out of earshot, he bent over her and whispered, “Don’t be shy of using that knife.” She looked up at him with alarm. “Just in case these Good Samaritans turn on us.” He laid the crutches across her lap and picked her up in his arms.
The Gawrylows were already well up the side of the ravine. He started after them, keeping one eye on them and the other on the treacherously steep incline. If he fell, Rusty would go with him. She had put up a brave front, but he knew her leg must be causing her considerable discomfort.
“Do you really think we’ll be rescued tomorrow, Cooper?”
“Looks like there’s a good chance. If we make it to the river and if a boat of some kind happens by.” He was breathing with difficulty. Sweat had popped out on his forehead. His jaw was set with determination.
“You need a shave.” The remark came from nowhere, but it indicated to them both how carefully she’d been studying his face. Without moving his head, he cast his eyes down toward her. Embarrassed, she looked away and murmured, “Sorry I’m so heavy.”
“Hardly. Your clothes weigh more than you do.”
That comment reminded them that he knew just how much of her was clothing and how much was flesh and bone. He’d seen her without any clothes, hadn’t he? Rusty decided that if all their conversations were going to result in awkwardness, it was safer not to engage in conversation at all.
Besides, by this time they had reached the top of the ravine. Quinn was biting off a chaw of tobacco. Reuben had removed his stocking cap and was fanning himself with it. His dark hair was greasily plastered to his head.
Cooper set Rusty down. Wordlessly Quinn offered him the brick of tobacco. Rusty was grateful when, with a shake of his head, Cooper turned it down.
“We’ll wait until you’re rested,” Quinn said.
Cooper looked down at Rusty. Her face was pale with fatigue. Her leg was probably hurting. The moist wind had picked up, making the temperature noticeably colder. No doubt she needed to take it slow and easy, but all things considered, the sooner he got her under a roof, fed, and lying down, the better.
“No need to wait. Let’s go,” he said tersely.
He pulled Rusty to her feet and propped her up on her crutches. He noticed her wince with pain, but steeled himself against compassion and indicated to their hosts that they were ready to proceed.
At least the remaining distance to the cabin was level ground. By the time they reached it, however, Rusty’s strength was totally spent. She collapsed on the sagging porch like a rag doll.