Faith's Mountain Home

by Misty M. Beller

  Nate came along her other side—the injured one—and slipped his arm around her waist, dipping his shoulder low so she could cling to it. The same way she had the last time, during that torturous walk back to town. What was it about this cave that made her always come away injured? If she believed in bad luck, she’d say these underground chambers held their fair share of ill will toward her.

  As they wove through the rock formations to reach the pair, the girl’s dark eyes never wavered from watching them. They still hadn’t learned why these two were alone in the cave, or even how long they’d been here. But Laura’s ankle throbbed too much for her to string together the right words and gentle tone she’d need to pull answers from the child.

  Just keeping from moaning with each step took more strength than she had to spare at this point.

  The doctor stopped them before they reached the pair. “Wait here while I get my bag. Then we’ll go.”

  She was too relieved to argue. The sooner they reached the horses, the sooner she could get off her feet and back to the clinic.

  While they waited for the doctor, Laura leaned more of her weight against Nate, letting her head rest against his shoulder. His hand tucked tighter around her waist, holding her secure. Letting this man bear the weight of her pain—even for just a moment—was more relief than she could describe. His head rested atop hers, and she would almost have thought he’d pressed a kiss to her hair.

  But he wouldn’t do that. Of course not.

  All too soon, Doc Micah returned to them, and she had to walk again. Step by painful step, they left the cave behind and scaled the ledge around the cliffside. Part of her never wanted to see that cave again.

  But another part kept the image of Bright Sun sitting beside the prone form of her grandfather. What would happen to them? If Eagle Soaring didn’t survive his injuries, did the girl have anyone who would come back for her?

  No matter how hard Laura had to work for it, she must make sure the pair had what they needed until Eagle Soaring recovered enough to handle the job himself. She couldn’t let them suffer.

  Perhaps this was exactly the purpose she’d been searching for. At least for now.

  Sitting in bed with her leg propped up all day made Laura feel useless. Especially when Ingrid had to do all the work for both the clinic and the household, even though she was pale as a white bedsheet.

  She’d finally pinned Doc Micah to ask if Ingrid’s sickness might be a sign of something more serious. He’d scrubbed a hand through his hair and sighed, but said he’d not seen signs of anything that should worry them.

  At least she had that relief, but she was pretty certain she heard Ingrid retching at least twice through that first day. Neither Ingrid nor her husband would allow Laura out of bed, and knowing for sure how much her friend suffered would only make her feel worse. Now the second day was almost through, and she should hobble in and sit with Aaron for a while. Maybe they could bond over their common frustration of being bedridden.

  But her injury was so much less severe than Aaron’s, and he might think she was flaunting the fact that she’d be up and moving in only a few days. The last thing she wanted was to bring his spirits lower.

  In truth, everything seemed to dampen his attitude. He seemed always to be either angry or in deep melancholy. Had he tended to shift toward such deep moods before? She didn’t remember him that way during the time she’d been forced to ride along with the gang. Aaron had been quiet, but not mean-spirited or depressed.

  Lord, let him return to the man he was before—only a better one this time. Not a thief. A good man who can walk and smile and fulfill the right calling you made him for.

  Was that too much to ask? Surely God wanted the same for Aaron, the man He’d created in His own image.

  Aaron’s spirits were probably even lower today than usual because Nate hadn’t come to see him the night before. Had he gone to visit the Indians in the cave instead?

  Possibly, although she was surprised he hadn’t stopped by the clinic first. The doctor had said he’d collect some food and other supplies Nate could take to the pair, and she’d seen Ingrid carrying a load past her open bedchamber door twice that day. Bright Sun and her grandfather wouldn’t be hungry or cold for a while.

  Now if only Nate would come get the supplies. Doc Micah had been summoned just after the noon meal for an elderly woman who’d taken fever on the other side of town. He still hadn’t returned, or he probably would have gone to the cave himself.

  A noise drifted from the hall outside—the front door opening, if she wasn’t mistaken. Yes, that was definitely the door being closed, then a familiar pattern of boots thudding. Tentative, as though he wasn’t sure he belonged, and walking toward Aaron’s bedchamber.

  The sounds of men’s voices drifted through the wall, but she couldn’t make out the words. Only the light rumble of Nate’s, then the deeper grunts of his brother. As twins, Nate and Aaron certainly carried a strong family resemblance, but there was also such a difference between them.

  Both were quiet and respectful, but Nate had an optimism that fed into everything he did, even into the tone of his voice. She noticed it more now than when she’d first met him. Maybe because she’d spent so much more time with him.

  A chuckle drifted through the wall. That had to be Nate, and she could picture how his deep green eyes danced as he laughed. He was surprisingly witty and could pull a smile from her even when she didn’t want him to.

  Her chest tightened, and something inside her yearned to see those dancing green eyes now. She desperately wanted something to smile about.

  Nine

  Laura eased her legs off the bed and reached for the walking sticks. The throbbing in her ankle had lessened to a dull ache, but a twinge of pain shot up the limb when she pushed upright. Once she hobbled through the first few steps, her body found the same rhythm she’d learned last time. This injury was definitely worse—a second-degree sprain, the doctor said, probably more severe because it happened so soon after the first one—but as long as she didn’t put weight on the bad leg, she should be able to get around with help from the walking sticks.

  Quiet draped the hallway when she stepped from her room. Hopefully Ingrid was resting, although she might be back in the kitchen. The low vibrato of male voices still hummed from Aaron’s chamber, so she limped toward his door, making sure to let the sticks thump loudly enough that they could hear her coming. Just in case they were speaking of private matters.

  She tapped on the door, loud enough for them to hear inside but not so loud she’d draw Ingrid to check on them.

  “Enter.” Nate’s voice.

  She pushed open the door and peered inside. Both faces looked up at her, Aaron from the chair in the corner, Nate from his seat on the edge of the bed. “I hope I’m not interrupting. I . . .”

  What excuse could she give for barging in on their visit? It would be selfish to say she’d been lonely. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea. She looked to Nate. “I wanted to see if you’d been to see Bright Sun and her grandfather. Ingrid has some supplies set aside to take to them.”

  His face wore weary lines across his brow and at the corners of his eyes. “I haven’t been back, but I plan to go in the morning on my way to the mine. I can take the goods with me tonight.”

  He hadn’t gone the night before? Where had he been then? “I thought since you weren’t here last—” She bit off the sentence the moment she realized the way her words would sound. It wasn’t any of her business whether he took a night off from his responsibilities. He wasn’t required to come check on his brother—or her.

  His shoulders sagged a little, and his gaze moved away from her, wandering to his brother. “I had to do some hunting, replenish my meat supply.”

  She blinked as her mind struggled to form a new picture of him. First she’d learned he lived in a camp outside of town, and now he hunted for his food? Surely wild game wasn’t all he ate, but it would certainly ease the weight of
his tab at the mercantile. Or would Mr. Lanton not sell to him because of his past crimes? That didn’t seem like the reasonable man she’d met. As the acting lawman until the new sheriff arrived, he was the one who’d suggested Nate and Aaron be allowed to work off their debt instead of being imprisoned or hanged for the crimes.

  Or maybe Nate didn’t earn much at the mine. And with Aaron still recovering, it would be some time before he could earn his part. That was the more likely reason he was so frugal. And she could respect the way Nate cut back expenses everywhere he could. At least the doctor had insisted Nate not pay any of the costs for Aaron’s care and board. Aaron was to work that off once he was able.

  But if one thing was certain, it was that Nate didn’t seem to fear hard work. If only her father had been the same way, the childhood she and her brothers had endured might have been very different. Maybe Will and Robbie would even be still alive today.

  “How’s your ankle?” Nate’s attention had returned to her. “You’re up and around already?” He raised his brows, as though he was surprised the doctor had released her.

  Part of her wanted to raise her chin and tell him she was perfectly well, thank you. But in truth, her ankle had resumed throbbing, even though she wasn’t pressing any weight on the joint. She should probably sit down.

  “Are you supposed to be sitting right now?” Nate narrowed his eyes at her.

  Fiddlesticks. How did the man read her mind so well? She couldn’t stop the heat from flooding her ears. She did raise her chin this time, though. “I’ve been sitting with my foot propped up for two days now. Using these should be perfectly fine.” She tapped the walking sticks.

  “Let the woman walk around, Nate. If she can do it, why shouldn’t she?” Aaron spoke up for the first time.

  She sent him a grateful smile, but his lips turned down in the grimace that seemed to be his constant expression these days.

  “At least come and sit.” Nate shifted over and patted the empty part of the bed.

  She hesitated. That didn’t seem proper at all, sitting on a bed beside a man. For that matter, neither was being in a bedchamber with two men, no matter that she would leave the door open. Did it matter that it was also an invalid’s room?

  Nate seemed to realize what he’d offered. He jumped up, his face turning red. Stepping over to his brother’s side—as far away from the bed as he could get—he motioned toward the seat he’d just vacated. “Sit, if you think it’s all right. Or not. Whichever you think is best.”

  She couldn’t help a smile at the sheepish look on his face. The offer had certainly been innocent. With the door open, maybe there wouldn’t be too much impropriety.

  And the last thing she wanted to do was return to her bed.

  Doing her best not to show her pain, she hobbled into the room and eased down on the edge of the bed. A silence settled over the room, so she summoned a smile for Aaron. “How are you feeling today? I’ve missed getting to visit when I bring your meals.”

  He grunted, then laid his head back against the chair and closed his eyes.

  Nate frowned at his brother. He turned to her, a mixture of worry and embarrassment clouding his eyes. “Sorry. His leg is paining him a lot today.”

  Laura glanced back at the injured man. His eyes looked sunken in, his face pale as it usually was these days. Those were definitely signs of strain.

  “It’s nigh unbearable.” Aaron’s growl was almost too rough to make out the words.

  Nate refocused his attention on his brother. “I don’t suppose there’s anything we can give him? Something to ease his hurting?” He turned back to Laura, his eyes so beseeching that her middle tightened.

  The doctor had said Aaron could have laudanum once or twice a day if the pain grew severe, especially for the first two weeks after the surgery.

  “I’ll get something.” She pushed up from the bed and balanced on her good foot until she had the sticks positioned under her arms.

  “I didn’t mean—” Nate straightened. “I can go get whatever you need if you’ll direct me.” He motioned toward her feet. “You shouldn’t be walking. I’m here. Let me help.”

  She shook her head. The doctor was extremely careful with the laudanum, keeping it in a locked drawer. She and the Bradleys were the only people allowed access. “It’s no trouble. I’ll return posthaste.” She waved toward Aaron. “Visit with your brother.”

  By the time she’d retrieved the medicine and given Aaron a dose, her ankle had taken all the exercise it would bear. She said a quiet good night, then hobbled back to her room.

  When she reached her door and glanced back, the figure standing in Aaron’s doorway gave her pause. Nate was watching her, and the soft expression on his face made her chest ache. He gave her one of those off-kilter grins, and it pulled a smile from somewhere deep inside her.

  “Good night, Laura.” His voice emerged so gentle, it made her want to linger there, to rest her head against the doorframe and watch him.

  She couldn’t, though, so she settled for another soft “Good night” and stepped into her chamber. Even as she lay back on her bed, she could still see his face, that gentle expression marking his handsome features. She wouldn’t mind lying still for hours if she could hold on to that memory.

  Nate heaved the pack higher on his shoulder and pulled his coat tighter as he maneuvered the rock ledge in the scant moonlight. A gust of wind whipped at his hair and slid down his neck, despite the thick buckskin of his coat. This path to the cave was definitely more treacherous in the dark, especially when his eyes were so grainy from lack of sleep.

  Between long days at the mine and evenings checking on Aaron, then the work he had to do around his camp at night just to feed himself and keep warm, early mornings were the only time left for him to take supplies to their Indian friends. If only the air didn’t nip so icy cold without the sun’s warmth. Winter was coming on with a ferocity.

  Hopefully the deer meat he’d roasted last night would last him for a couple weeks, and he’d be able to focus on the people who needed him. That and his endless days at the mine. Now that Barlow was training him with the explosions, he was working even longer hours than before.

  As he neared the mouth of the cave, he strained to hear any noises. Nothing sounded except the constant blowing of the wind. The air tasted wet and heavy, like snow might come today. He leaned down into the cave opening and called, “Bright Sun? Eagle Soaring? It’s Nate. I’ve brought food and other supplies for you.”

  He ducked inside and dropped to his knees, fumbling to find the lantern and matches they’d left next to the inside wall. The scent of a campfire pricked his nose. He needed to make sure the pair had enough wood to burn for light.

  “It’s Nate, I’ve come to bring you food,” he called again, just in case they hadn’t heard him the first time. The last thing he needed was an arrow or knife wound because they didn’t know it was him.

  When the match flared to life, he glanced around the area. Bright Sun stood at the base of the incline—the place where Laura had fallen—staring at him. The child rarely made a sound, either in her movements or her speech.

  He offered a smile as he lit the lantern. “I can’t stay long, but I brought you food and blankets from the doctor. How’s your grandfather?”

  “He sleeps now. I take you to him.”

  Nate stood and hoisted the pack, then followed her. She didn’t go to the place the man had lain before but instead turned the opposite direction toward the other chamber that held the hot springs. She moved into the dark opening without pause, but Nate had to gather his nerve before ducking into the low entrance.

  The thick scent of rotting eggs pricked his nose as he stepped into the humid cavern. This room was much warmer than the front chamber. By the side wall, in the flickering lantern light, Eagle Soaring lay with the buffalo robe pulled over him. The ashes of a fire sat nearby, as did the pile of furs Nate had brought them.

  He dropped his bundle beside those, then k
nelt at the older man’s head. “How are you today, my friend?”

  Eagle Soaring poked his good hand out at the top of the fur and reached toward Nate. He wasn’t certain what the man intended, but it looked like he might be offering to shake hands. Nate clasped the other man’s palm in his. The hold was weak, and the bones felt as though they might shatter if he squeezed too hard.

  But Eagle Soaring looked up at him with an expression of gratitude. He spoke a few words Nate couldn’t understand, but the man’s thanks warmed his eyes and brought a rise of emotions into Nate’s throat.

  He rested a hand on the buffalo robe where Eagle Soaring’s shoulder should be, then turned to Bright Sun. “Do you have enough wood to keep a fire going?” Even if they were warm enough between the heat from the hot springs and the furs, a fire would provide light.

  “I will gather more wood this morning.” Bright Sun spoke in a quiet yet confident tone.

  “Better do it as soon as there’s daylight. I think snowfall will start any time now.” He released the man’s hand and pushed to his feet. He’d be late to the mine if he didn’t leave right now. “Is there anything else you need?”

  “Nothing.” Bright Sun spoke the word quickly, with a definite hint of defiance in her tone.

  The older man murmured something, and the girl spoke again, but this time with less venom. “We thank you for your kindness.”

  Nate bit back a chuckle. “I’ll come check on you again soon.” Then he scooped up his lantern and strode back toward the cave entrance.

  When he stepped into the dawning light, tiny snowflakes drifted down around him. The ice crystals landed on his face, stinging his nose and cheeks with their wet chill. He fished his felt miner’s hat from where he’d tucked it inside his waistband. In truth, he hated the thing, but it would keep his head dry.

  Faint rays of sunlight struggled to lighten the thick cloud cover in the eastern sky, which meant he’d best double-time it to the mine. He lengthened his stride as he maneuvered the ledge around the cliff. He’d done this so many times now that the steep drop-off on his right no longer clenched his nerves. This must be how the mountain goats felt, scrambling up and over rocks with nary a concern.