Northern Star by Jodi Thomas Page A

favor and sit real still while we go through your supplies.”
    She could only see the back of Hunter’s head, yet she noticed he held it high.
    “Now, since you were real neighborly in offerin’ us a ride when we strolled up,” the deserter continued, “Tim and me’s gonna leave you some grub and the wagon. Notthat it’ll do you much good without horses. At least you got your life.”
    Abram’s low voice cut the air. “Unless you leave us one horse, the captain won’t live. He’s been hurt bad.”
    Hunter’s voice was ice cold. “Forget it, Abram. They’ll not reason, and we’ll not ask anything from them.”
    Perry heard no fear or panic in Hunter’s voice, only a deadly calculated calm. She could tell from his tone that he was a man who set his standards and would never beg. Even though he was very near death, he wouldn’t lower himself to plead with these men.
    The stranger continued, “How right you are about that, Captain. Why should we ride double? We’re in a bit of a hurry. Might as well be shot for stealing two horses as one.” Both robbers laughed.
    Perry listened to their talk as she lowered to her stomach and crawled to the back of the wagon. She had to do something immediately or they would be stranded. She had to reach the wagon and slide under. Her only hope was to get to Abram.
    As Perry crawled forward, rocks scraped her arms and legs through her rough clothes. The sun was at her back, so it would be in the strangers’ eyes should they chance to look in her direction. Without a sound Perry rolled onto the road and slid under the wagon. Inching her way, she crept toward Abram’s back as it rested against the wheel.
    The two intruders were discussing what they should take. She could see their legs only a few feet away as she slid behind Abram’s bulk. Perry touched his shoulder softly to indicate her presence. She felt his muscles tense, yet he made no move. Frantically she examined the rope, but all the knots were tied out of her reach. She rummaged in her pockets for her knife.
    Finding her weapon, Perry’s fingers molded around its smooth handle as she removed it from her baggy pocket. Jerking the knife from its concealment, she rapidly opened it and applied the small sharp blade to the thick rope. Thetwo men were mounting their stolen horses and panic seized her. Frantic now at her labor, she placed her hand firmly behind the rope to steady her work. With all her strength she slid the silver blade back and forth across the coarse rope.
    Suddenly the knife slashed free through the rope and dug into Perry’s palm. A crimson line formed across her hand as she heard Abram jerk free. Relief and pain struck her as one. Tears clouded her vision, making the scene above her more a dream than reality.
    Abram bounded in smooth pantherlike strides toward both men. They were busy loading the horses down with the stolen provisions and were unprepared to face an attack. Abram managed to land a heavy blow upon each before either could react. The two thin soldiers were no match for this angry mountain of muscle. He knocked the rifle from one intruder’s arms and sent it crashing among the rocks.
    Perry cradled her hand to her chest and slowly crawled from beneath the wagon. She stood watching as Abram slammed his fist into one deserter’s face, sending him flying backward into unconsciousness. Turning, Abram began his thunderous assault upon the other.
    Blood spilled from the soldier’s mouth as Hunter’s voice interrupted the attack. “Enough, Abram, enough,” he said calmly.
    Without even a glance back, Abram dropped the deserter’s body in the dirt. Perry turned to Hunter, amazed at his control over Abram. He hadn’t commanded, only requested. Few words seemed necessary between these two men. Wide-eyed, with tears dribbling down both cheeks, she looked into Hunter’s gray eyes. She saw again the puzzlement in his face she’d seen when he regained consciousness back at camp. He was