Marna by Norah Hess Page B

but with deepest respect."
    Hertha nodded. "I understand."
    The old woman became a bustle of activity now.
She called to Henry for hot water and pans. Directing
Dove to gather bowls and clean rags, she mixed together different herbs and barks. Henry and Dove
waited, knowing that she wasn't finished with them yet.
    Finally Hertha was ready. "Henry," she ordered,
"grab Marna's shoulders and hold them firm."
    Henry hesitated. "I don't know, Hertha. I don't think
Matt would want me to see his wife.. .bare and
all."
    Hertha shot him an impatient look. "Don't be a durn
fool. I need a pair of strong hands, and I don't see him
around anywhere. Keep your eyes shut if you want to."
    While Henry laid uncertain hands on Marna, Hertha
spoke to Dove. "Dove, you sit on her legs. This is
gonna burn her fierce."
    While Henry and Dove held the slender body steady,
Hertha gently spread the hot, pungent salve over the
wounds. Marna shuddered and cried out, unconsciously
fighting against the hands that held her. Hertha talked
to her in low, soothing tones, gently stroking her head.
    Gradually the searing pain abated and Marna ceased
her thrashing about When she lay quietly, Hertha
nodded her head in satisfaction. "You can let her go
now."
    She reached into her pocket and brought out a bottle
of whiskey. "Pour us all some coffee, Dove, and lace it
good with this."
    Henry took the bottle from her and shook it. While
he studied the beads that formed on top, Hertha
snapped gruffly, "I made it myself, and it's the best
you'll find in these hills."

    Henry grinned widely, not at all surprised that
Hertha was capable of making her own whiskey.
    When they had finished the doctored-up coffee,
Hertha turned to Dove. "You look beat, girl. Go roll
yourself in a blanket there by the fire and get yourself
some sleep."
    Dove looked uneasily toward the door. "I'd best be
getting back to quarters. Corey will be expecting me."
    Hertha frowned a fast look at her. "So you're
Corey's squaw, are you? Do you care for that hellion?"
    Dove hung her head and the tears flowed. "I hate
him," she sobbed. "He forced me to come here."
    Hertha looked at Henry, and he nodded his head.
She moved then to put her arms around the heaving
shoulders. "Do as I say, child. That devil will never
bother you again."
    At the doubt in Dovie's teary eyes, she added, "You'll
see. Old Hertha will put the fear of God in him."
    Henry pulled a wide-bladed knife from his belt and
sent it whanging into the tabletop. "If Hertha don't, I
will," he promised.
    When Matt left the cabin, he rushed blindly off the
porch. Caleb stepped away from the waiting group and
reached out a detaining hand, but Matt brushed it
aside, hurrying on. Caleb ran after him, calling out,
"Matt, is Marna all right?"
    Matt made no response. At this moment Caleb was
the last person he wanted see or talk to. His wife would
turn to this man now. Caleb hadn't been afraid to declare his love for her.
    Caleb turned back to the others, shaking his head.
Matt was acting like a crazy man. Had Marna died? He
jerked around, determined to make Matt talk to him.
One of the hunters then reached out and stopped him.
"Don't bother Matt now," he said gruffly. "He's
hurtin'."

    "Hurtin', hell," Caleb swore bitterly. "What about
my hurtin'?"
    "Your hurt don't count, Caleb. She's Matt's wife."
Caleb pulled away from the hunter's hand and moved
wearily to sit on the porch.
    Matt threw the saddle on the stallion and swung onto
its back. He would find that devil cat before the sun
was up, he promised himself grimly.
    He whistled for the hound. The shrill sound vibrated
and bounced off the hills. Faintly, from a nearby ridge,
the dog gave a yelping answer.
    The stallion pricked its ears and jerked its head, and
Jawer came tearing out of the forest. Matt reined the
stallion in and reached behind him, pulling out the
buckskins that Marna had worn. The cat's scent would
be strong on them. He reached