Winter's Touch by Janis Reams Hudson Page A

for him.”
    The boy turned back to watch the rim. “We will need to leave soon. You should wake the others.”
    “I’ll check on your sister first.”
    Hunter looked at Carson again, this time with worry in his eyes. “She is quiet, but I think a fever comes.”
    With a silent prayer that the boy was wrong, Carson made his way back to the cave and Winter Fawn’s side. She was pale again, as pasty gray as she’d been before the whiskey had temporarily revived her. Gently, so as not to wake her, he touched her forehead.
    She was warmer than she would normally be, but not terribly hot. Only a slight fever. Considering the seriousness of her wound, he wouldn’t have been surprised to find her burning up. But it had only been a few hours, he thought grimly. The fever could rise.
    Her skin beneath his touch was soft and smooth, like dark, living silk. Without realizing what he was doing, he let his fingers stroke her cheek. Here she felt like fine velvet, but warm and alive. Or a rose petal heated by the sun.
    My, aren’t you getting poetic, old son.
    Her eyes opened and stared directly into his, gray eyes so deep and dark that for a moment he felt as if he were drowning in them. “How do you feel?” he asked, keeping his voice low.
    She smiled slightly. “Like I’ve been dragged behind a horse for a few miles.”
    “Only a few?”
    “Only a few.”
    Carson couldn’t help himself. He had to ask again. “Why did you do it?”
    Her slight smile faded. “I told you, I dinna know. I didna think about it. I knew when I saw him that it was Crooked Oak. Hunter had already told me that he’d overheard him saying he was going to kill you in the night. ‘Tis why I came to cut you free. Crooked Oak, I fear, disnae trouble himself overmuch with a wee thing like honor. Had you been killed after Little Raven said you would be safe, it would have shamed us all. I couldna let him do it.”
    “You saved my life.”
    “Maybe. Maybe not. We will never know.”
    Carson shook his head. “You saved my life. I wish you hadn’t been hurt doing it.”
    “So do I.”
    “I don’t know how to repay you.”
    “I hope you wouldna insult me by trying to pay me for such a thing. It wasna anything I thought of or planned. It just happened.”
    “How’s me lass doin’?” Innes said from behind him.
    Carson had been so intent on Winter Fawn that he hadn’t heard Innes stir. Bess, too, he noticed, was awake now and watching.
    “She’s feverish,” Carson said.
    “Shall I make more tea?” Bess offered anxiously. “Will that help her?”
    “It won’t hurt,” Carson said. “But it’s nearly time to head out again, and she shouldn’t be moved.”
    Innes came and knelt at his daughter’s side. Feeling her face for himself, he frowned. “I fear ye’ve got the right o’ it, lad. I’ll be stayin’ behind with her while the rest o’ ye—”
    “No,” Carson said firmly. “You’re right that we should split up, but I want you and Hunter to take the girls and go.”
    Next to the small fire she’d just rekindled, Bess froze and stared at him.
    “The hell ye say,” Innes protested.
    “We all stand a better chance of getting away clean if we split up.”
    “That may be,” Innes said with a low growl in his throat. “But my place is with me daughter. And yours is with your daughter and sister.”
    “I know that.” Carson plowed his fingers through his hair, then winced. Even touching the top of his head made the back of it hurt where the bullet had grazed him yesterday.
    God, had it been only yesterday? It seemed a lifetime ago. Yet every time he closed his eyes he saw those painted warriors bursting out from behind the rocks, yelling and shrieking, shooting at him and the girls. Megan screaming. Bess falling from the wagon. The warrior lifting her by the hair. The memories were so vivid that they could have happened only moments ago.
    “Look,” he said. “I’m the one they want. If they catch up with us, they’re