Only 06 - Winter Fire

“Sleep. And don’t dream, Case. Your dreams…hurt too much.”
    After a few more minutes he sighed and slid back into the twilight world that was neither sleeping nor waking. But he was calmer now.
    She barely dared to breathe deeply for fear of disturbing him. His fever was less than yesterday or the day before, and the infection in his wounds was subsiding, but he was far from well.
    Moving slowly, noiselessly, she trimmed the wick of the lantern, lit it, and checked the hawk’s wing. The bird protested at being touched, but like Case, the hawk no longer fought her when she rubbed in salve. Her gentle hands and voice had calmed the wild bird to the point that she no longer had to hood it to keep it from panicking.
    â€œHealing nicely,” she murmured. “You’ll be soaring winter skies again, my fierce friend. Soon.”
    She set the lantern near the pallet where Case lay. Settling close by, she picked up a small bundle of wool and began twisting it onto a wooden spindle. Her fingers flew, spinning a shapeless mass of goat hair into soft yarn. As though by magic, yarn grew fat around the spindle as the pile of wool shrank.
    The cabin door opened and shut quickly. Without looking up, Sarah could tell from the footsteps that it was her brother.
    â€œHow’s he doing?” Conner asked.
    â€œBetter. Less fever.”
    â€œTold you he’d make it.”
    She smiled wanly.
    â€œYou look tired,” he said. “Why don’t you sleep? I’ll watch him.”
    She shook her head.
    Her brother started to argue, then shrugged and held his tongue. Lola was right—no one had Sarah’s touch. Somehow she could reassure everything from hawks to mustangs that they were safe in her hands.
    â€œAnything happening up on the rim?” she asked.
    â€œNo sign of Culpeppers, if that’s what you mean.”
    â€œUte must have done a better job of wiping out Case’s trail than he thought.”
    â€œMaybe. And maybe they’re just waiting.”
    â€œFor what?” she asked.
    â€œHow should I know? I’m not a Culpepper. Any beans left?”
    â€œYou just ate.”
    â€œThat was hours ago,” he said.
    â€œOne hour.”
    â€œI’m hungry.”
    â€œFinish the beans, wash the pot, and put more—”
    â€œâ€”beans in to soak,” he interrupted, reciting the familiar instructions. “Shoot, you’d think I was still in diapers or something. I know how to make beans.”
    â€œReally? Do you think they grow in dirty pots? Is that why I had to wash out the pot and start today’s supper in the middle of last night?”
    Conner’s mouth flattened.
    Sarah regretted her sharp words the instant they were out of her mouth. Sighing, she wondered how parents managed to keep their tempers at all. One moment Conner acted as responsibly as any fully grown man. The next moment he was worse than a two-year-old.
    Yet she desperately needed to be able to count on him.
    That’s hardly fair to Conner , Sarah reminded herself. He’s only a boy .
    â€œSorry,” she said. “You were up half the night on watch.”
    Saying nothing, he scraped the last of the beans onto a plate. He knew he was in the wrong. He should have started the beans even if he was cross-eyed from lack of sleep. He had just plain forgotten.
    â€œI won’t forget again,” he muttered.
    â€œIt’s all right.”
    â€œNo, it ain’t.”
    â€œIsn’t,” she said automatically.
    â€œ Isn’t . Hell’s fire, what difference does it make? I’m not going to no— any —fancy Eastern school!”
    â€œYes, you are. Just as soon as I find that treasure.”
    â€œWe’ll all be dead as last year’s flowers before that happens. Besides, I don’t want to go.”
    â€œI’ll find the silver,” she said. “You’ll go.”
    Conner heard the stubbornness in his sister’s voice and changed the subject. Every time they talked about his lack of formal schooling, they argued. The older he got, the fiercer the arguments became.
    He didn’t want to hurt his sister, but he had no intention of going back East and leaving her to fend for herself. She would never admit that she needed him, but she did.
    He stalked out into the night to wash the pot in the creek.
    The vague whisper of goat hair being spun into yarn filled the silence. Sarah worked quickly