Free Wind Shadow by Renee Roszel

the act of a man trying not to cry. He croaked raggedly, “Look … lady. You can’t call me anything I haven’t already called myself.” She watched his lips tremble as he stammered. “Ju—just be his friend, will you? Then, maybe—maybe later? It doesn’t have to be this week, or even next week. Just tell him sometime before we get to Whitehorse.”
    Silky slumped back, closing her eyes. She felt wretched. The tree trunk was hard and unyielding, but no more so than she intended to be. “Now at least I know why he’s been so unhappy. Poor kid… being abandoned by his mother.” She felt a stab of dislike for this man, this quitter! It wasn’t bad enough that he was a quitter, but he didn’t even have the fortitude to
tell
Randy he was quitting. She gritted her teeth. A firm
no
was poised on her lips. When she lifted her eyes toward his again, Ice’s glasses were back in place, hiding his desolate eyes. But to her extreme distress, she saw a lone tear trailing down his grimy cheek, leaving its damp track in the dust. The firm
no
wavered without sound on her parted lips.
The man was crying!
She had never been able to bear seeing a man weep. A feeling of defeat washed over her. With an unsteadytremor in her voice, she whispered, “I … I’ll get to know Randy, Mr. Douglas. Besides,” she added with a touch of rancor, “—maybe he would be better off with this second cousin, anyway.”
    For a long, oppressively quiet moment, he stared at her, unmoving. She stared back, but all she saw was her own reflection in his glasses. She saw in doubled miniature what he saw; a flushed face closed in a contemptuous frown. Her expression spoke very clearly of her disapproval.
    With a moist hand, he gripped her shoulder, muttering self-consciously, “Thanks, Mrs. O. You’re good people.” Nodding to further affirm his statement, he seemed too affected for any more words. Abruptly, he stood.
    Avoiding his gaze, Silky stood too. There was nothing at all that she could think of worth saying, so she remained silent. With a quick swoop, Ice pulled his towel up from the ground and, slapping it nervously against his leg, he ducked under a low branch and walked away toward the creek. As he left her, Silky noticed that he was standing a little taller, while she suddenly felt very bent. But the pain in her back could not totally be attributed to the added weight of responsibility he had dumped on her.
    Putting her hand to her lower back, she kneaded the sore muscles. All the crouching against the wind today had left her cringing at the idea of getting on that bike again to go into Fairbanks for the Midnight Sun baseball game.All she wanted right now was to rest—to
sleep!
But, even that possibility seemed remote after her haunting conversation with Ice. Thinking about Randy, she doubted that she would get any sleep, either! Mumbling to no one in particular, she observed dryly, “It’s been a great day.”
    Silky had always heard that a dip in a cold creek was supposed to revive a body, not aid in killing it off. Though she’d managed to survive the frigid dip, the very thought of the impending trip into Fairbanks made her feel faint.
    Shaking her head wearily, she fluffed her still-damp hair as she walked to Annie’s tent. Bending, and grimacing at the way her back muscles protested yet another forced folding of her torso, she called softly, “Annie? You in there?”
    “Yeah, kid. Just glossing the old lips.”
    Silky straightened. “Makeup? You?”
    A curly red head popped out of the end of the tent as Annie grinned at her friend. “Don’t panic, hon. It’s just medicated gloss. I’ve got chapped lips.” She crawled out and zipped up the opening. As she stood, she looked at Silky’s attire for the first time. “Hey, you can’t go to the game in your shorty robe. Better hurry and get dressed.” She looked down at her wristwatch. “We’re supposed to shove off in a minute.”
    Silky shrugged tiredly and sighed,