start our winter quarters," he explained, not unkindly. "You go back to camp and wait
for me."
She shook her head. "I will help you," she insisted in
the husky voice that roused him so strangely.
He gazed down at the stubborn set of the chin peeping through a strand of hair. His words would be
wasted in argument with her. Grunting agreement, he
led off, walking swiftly. Let the little witch keep up with
him if she could.
But no matter how he lengthened his stride, she was
always at his heels. When they had walked about fifty
yards from the camp, she touched his back timidly. He
swung around and demanded impatiently, "What is it
now?"
She pointed to an outcropping boulder a few feet to
the left of them. "There's a spring coming out of there.
We'll build here," she stated flatly.
Matt stared down at her, his eyes narrowing in anger.
"Look, miss, I'll be the one who decides where the hut
goes."
"I'm not a miss anymore," Marna said evenly. "And
since it's my home, too, with me mostly in it, I should
decide where it goes."
She waited fearfully for his hand to come out and
strike her down. When he only continued to stare at her
in disbelief, she drew on her courage and added, "Also,
it won't be a hut. It will be a regular cabin, with a
wooden floor and windows."
Matt jerked threateningly toward her. "And if I say
no?"
There was a touch of mischief in her soft laugh as
she answered, "Then I'll have to put a hex on you...
make your hound drop dead."
Despite himself, a slow smile crept up and crinkled
the corners of Matt's eyes. "If anyone is capable of it,"
he remarked, "it's you.,,
He moved to a good-sized maple, about eight inches
around, and swung the ax into the wood. Marna
watched him a minute, then disappeared. She was back
shortly with one of the pack horses. As fast as Matt
felled a tree and trimmed it, she tied a rope to it, then
attached the rope to the animal. Then, calling loudly to
the horse and interjecting colorful swear words whenever she thought it necessary, she drove the animal to
the spot she had selected for her home.
Surreptitiously Matt watched and listened to her, a wide grin curving his lips. He was being managed, he
realized, and he didn't know whether to be angry or
not.
What the hell, he thought. It don't make no difference to me.where we build. Since she's got a husband in
name only, it don't hurt to let her pick the site of the
cabin.
But as he chopped down one tree after the other and
the sun shone hotly on his back, it came to him irritatingly that this young female had bested him in every
decision. First she had had her way in accompanying
him, then in the choosing of the area. Next she had
insisted on a cabin, not a hut, and to top it all off, it
must have a floor and windows.
A frown of suspicion furrowed his forehead. Damned
if she wasn't acting like this was to be a permanent
home. He leaned the ax against a tree and drew his arm
across his sweating face. He'd better get things straight
with her right now.
At his approach, Marna looked up and waited silently for him to speak. "Look, miss," he began, then
corrected himself. "I mean Marna. I think we'd better
get somethin' clear between us. This ain't no permanent
quarters I'm buildin'. Come next fall, we'll be movin'
on.,,
He saw her shoulders stiffen, but her voice was soft
as she answered, "I understand that. I know that a long
hunter always moves around. But I see no reason why
we can't have a snug, two-room cabin every winter,
regardless of where it might be."
Matt's eyes opened wide and he let out a roar. "Just
a damned minute there. Who said anything about two
rooms? Why do we need two?"
But even as he asked the question, understanding
flashed in his eyes.
Mama dropped her head and moved her bare toes
nervously in the dust. Matt waited for her to answer,
then grew nervous himself at her continued silence.
Finally, stubbornly, he snapped, "Well, answer me."
Marna
for me."
She shook her head. "I will help you," she insisted in
the husky voice that roused him so strangely.
He gazed down at the stubborn set of the chin peeping through a strand of hair. His words would be
wasted in argument with her. Grunting agreement, he
led off, walking swiftly. Let the little witch keep up with
him if she could.
But no matter how he lengthened his stride, she was
always at his heels. When they had walked about fifty
yards from the camp, she touched his back timidly. He
swung around and demanded impatiently, "What is it
now?"
She pointed to an outcropping boulder a few feet to
the left of them. "There's a spring coming out of there.
We'll build here," she stated flatly.
Matt stared down at her, his eyes narrowing in anger.
"Look, miss, I'll be the one who decides where the hut
goes."
"I'm not a miss anymore," Marna said evenly. "And
since it's my home, too, with me mostly in it, I should
decide where it goes."
She waited fearfully for his hand to come out and
strike her down. When he only continued to stare at her
in disbelief, she drew on her courage and added, "Also,
it won't be a hut. It will be a regular cabin, with a
wooden floor and windows."
Matt jerked threateningly toward her. "And if I say
no?"
There was a touch of mischief in her soft laugh as
she answered, "Then I'll have to put a hex on you...
make your hound drop dead."
Despite himself, a slow smile crept up and crinkled
the corners of Matt's eyes. "If anyone is capable of it,"
he remarked, "it's you.,,
He moved to a good-sized maple, about eight inches
around, and swung the ax into the wood. Marna
watched him a minute, then disappeared. She was back
shortly with one of the pack horses. As fast as Matt
felled a tree and trimmed it, she tied a rope to it, then
attached the rope to the animal. Then, calling loudly to
the horse and interjecting colorful swear words whenever she thought it necessary, she drove the animal to
the spot she had selected for her home.
Surreptitiously Matt watched and listened to her, a wide grin curving his lips. He was being managed, he
realized, and he didn't know whether to be angry or
not.
What the hell, he thought. It don't make no difference to me.where we build. Since she's got a husband in
name only, it don't hurt to let her pick the site of the
cabin.
But as he chopped down one tree after the other and
the sun shone hotly on his back, it came to him irritatingly that this young female had bested him in every
decision. First she had had her way in accompanying
him, then in the choosing of the area. Next she had
insisted on a cabin, not a hut, and to top it all off, it
must have a floor and windows.
A frown of suspicion furrowed his forehead. Damned
if she wasn't acting like this was to be a permanent
home. He leaned the ax against a tree and drew his arm
across his sweating face. He'd better get things straight
with her right now.
At his approach, Marna looked up and waited silently for him to speak. "Look, miss," he began, then
corrected himself. "I mean Marna. I think we'd better
get somethin' clear between us. This ain't no permanent
quarters I'm buildin'. Come next fall, we'll be movin'
on.,,
He saw her shoulders stiffen, but her voice was soft
as she answered, "I understand that. I know that a long
hunter always moves around. But I see no reason why
we can't have a snug, two-room cabin every winter,
regardless of where it might be."
Matt's eyes opened wide and he let out a roar. "Just
a damned minute there. Who said anything about two
rooms? Why do we need two?"
But even as he asked the question, understanding
flashed in his eyes.
Mama dropped her head and moved her bare toes
nervously in the dust. Matt waited for her to answer,
then grew nervous himself at her continued silence.
Finally, stubbornly, he snapped, "Well, answer me."
Marna
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