While she cleaned, salved, and rewrapped all his wounds, Nate built up the fire and brought in more wood. A good thing, since Eagle Soaring’s hands were icy cold. She watched Nate from the corner of her eye as he dumped his second load of wood in a pile. This probably wasn’t what the doctor meant when he said to rest the shoulder, but she was fairly certain Nate wouldn’t stop, even if she reprimanded him. His habit of putting others’ needs ahead of his own seemed so deeply ingrained that he might not even realize he was doing it.
When she finished with Eagle Soaring, she pulled out the wrapped food parcels Ingrid had sent, explaining what was in each to the girl.
“Thank you.” Bright Sun’s voice was so quiet, so meek, as though she hated to say the words. Maybe hated to accept the gift. But this child couldn’t hunt, and there weren’t any berries left on the bushes now that winter had come.
“I’d like to walk to the creek.” Nate’s voice rumbled off the stone walls, even though he was speaking quietly. “Would you mind staying a few more minutes until I come back?”
She turned to look at him. “I want to see it, too.” Did he think she had no curiosity to see the wonders of this underground marvel?
His brows lowered, the firelight casting thick shadows on his forehead. “Are you sure you can manage it? I mean . . .” He stopped, likely realizing his words would only make her rise to the occasion.
She reached for her walking sticks, then pushed up to her knees and prepared the poles to help her stand. Nate gripped her arms and lifted her, his easy strength requiring no work on her part as he set her on her feet. It was starting to feel perfectly normal, his warm touch as he assisted with whatever she might need. When her leg was healed and she no longer needed his help, she would miss the contact.
Already she missed his warmth as he pulled his hands back.
“Just tell me when you want to turn back.” He gave her a pointed look she couldn’t miss, even in the dim firelight.
She didn’t respond, just turned to Bright Sun and offered a smile. “You can come with us if you’d like.”
The girl only shook her head as she stood by her grandfather. Laura was fairly sure the girl trusted them now, at least enough to stroll with them along the length of the stream, but she probably felt she needed to stay with her grandfather, make sure he was comfortable after Laura’s tending to his wounds.
Nate ambled beside Laura, carrying the lantern as she limped forward. She was probably holding him back, but when she increased her pace, he still hung back, as though he didn’t want to walk any faster. She eased her speed to match his again.
After a moment, he turned to the edge of the water, paused, and peered in for a long moment, then raised the lantern high and gazed around the domed ceiling. “What do you think made this room? Maybe that spring was once a powerful geyser, shooting enough water to chip away at the rock until this room was filled. But why did the water stop?”
He didn’t seem to expect an answer, and she certainly didn’t have one. What he described sounded likely to create a cavern like this. Unless . . .
She spoke the only other possibility she could think of. “Either that or God created these caves and tunnels exactly the way they are now.”
He swung to look at her, his teeth flashing in a grin. “Makes you wonder how creative He really is, huh?”
A warmth eased through her chest. It’d been good to watch Nate’s faith grow these past few months, to watch him at church, Bible open and leaning into every word the reverend said. A practice she was doing her best to emulate.
He swung his focus back to the river, looking first right, then left. “We’ve been upstream already. Shall we explore the other direction?”
She nodded and turned left. Nate held the lantern high as they walked, and she could hardly believe the beauty of the rock around them. In some areas, the stone seemed layered, with beautiful variations in coloring. A few places held more of the hanging rock formations like the front cavern, most dangling like solid icicles. Each possessed its own unique beauty, some unusual part of its makeup.
The surroundings absorbed her so fully, she tripped twice as her walking sticks snagged on stone. After she almost went down the second time, Nate touched her elbow, stilling her. “I think we’ve gone far enough. The last thing we need is you injuring yourself even more. I’m not sure I could carry you back with my injured shoulder.” He gripped the joint, letting that side hang lower than the other as his face took on an expression of deep pain.
Feigned, all of it.
She nudged him in the side. “Worry not. There won’t be a need to carry me. I’ll be more careful.”
His hands fell to his side as the pretense slipped from his face, but a smile played at the corners of his mouth. “We really should turn back, though.”
She shook her head. “I think we’re almost to the end, where Bright Sun said the water disappears into the rock. Let’s go a little farther.” She really had no idea if they were close to that point, but maybe that would sway him.
She hobbled forward, and after a pause, Nate’s quiet boot thuds sounded behind her. “Look at that cluster of rock-cicles.” She pointed to a grouping that hung from a ledge in the wall.
“What’s beside it?” Nate moved to the wall and raised the lantern.
She limped toward him. “Are those carvings?” Images were pressed into the stone wall—somewhat discernible shapes that appeared to be horses with riders, then triangular forms that might be mountains, and more of the horses and riders. Or perhaps the triangles were Indian tepees. “Do you think it’s a scene from an event, or just depicting the natives around here?”
Nate leaned closer to scrutinize a section of people atop animals. “Not sure. It’s hard to tell which tribe they are. Maybe Blackfeet. Or perhaps Crow.”
She stepped past him, but that seemed to be the only section of carvings, at least within the range of the light. “I wonder if there’s more.”
He came up beside her, holding the lantern in front of them as they both moved alongside the wall. For several minutes they walked, but nothing more presented itself.
At last, Nate sighed as he paused. She stopped and raised her brows at him.
The corners of his mouth dipped. “We really do need to turn back. If I keep you out here any longer, the doctor is liable to send a posse after me. I’m already risking your reputation far too much by bringing you out here alone.”
She shrugged. “I’ve never let others’ opinions rule my actions.” Mostly because I’ve never been allowed that luxury.
Nate was studying her, his gaze digging deep enough to see far more than she intended. She so desperately wanted to be normal, just like the other women she’d watched from a distance living happy, fulfilled lives. She probably wouldn’t have a husband and children—that felt like too much to hope for—but she could still have purpose. Still help others in the community. Still be the woman God created her to be.
That woman was who she wanted Nate to see when he looked at her. Not the shadows from her past.
“Laura.” Nate’s low tenor rumbled through her chest, and the way he spoke her name pressed hard. “I don’t know your story, but I can tell life hasn’t been easy for you.” His throat worked, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I’m sorry for the part my brother and the others played in adding to your struggles.” Raw pain crossed his face.
For her part, she could barely draw breath. Was he really going to bring up the kidnapping? They’d never spoken of it, not since returning to Settler’s Fort.
His shoulders rose as he drew in a deep breath. “I’m more sorry than I can say. I know Aaron is, too. I only wish . . .” His voice cracked, then faded away completely.
She had to put a stop to this conversation. To his pain. She placed her hand on his arm and he stilled. “It’s forgiven, Nate. I know you didn’t want any part in the kidnapping. You tried to stop the others. You don’t need to apologize.”
“But I do need to. I know y
ou probably don’t want to talk about it.” A huff slipped through his mouth. “You probably don’t even want to think about it. But I needed to say that.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair as he turned to look anywhere but at her.
Did he still hold so much guilt? She tugged on his arm. “Nate, look at me.”
He turned his head to her, but not his body, as though he would whirl away the moment she released him.
“I’ve seen the man you are. A man who sacrifices himself to help those around him. A man working to grow in his faith. To be honest, I still can’t reconcile who you are now with how you and the others lived. But as far as my kidnapping, I hold nothing against you. I promise.”
His shoulders rose, then fell. Physical pain crossed his face, and his mouth opened like he meant to speak. But either he couldn’t find the words, or he couldn’t force them out.
God, help him. Show him his worth as your man. She waited, keeping her hand on his arm, a steady presence.
“And Aaron?” Nate’s voice cracked, but it did nothing to diminish the blow packed into his words.
She dropped her gaze. Could she forgive his brother? Aaron had been part of her kidnapping. He’d been there the day Bill’s mammoth grip closed over her arm, jerking her up like a cloth doll.
Eventually, Aaron had attempted to help her and little Samuel escape, but not at first. She’d tried so many times to forgive him. She’d chosen to forgive, as the reverend said to do. “Choose with your mind first, then your heart will follow.”
But her heart still twisted every time she stepped into Aaron’s room. Every time she rubbed at the scars the ropes had burned into her wrists.
A new thought slipped in, shifting the picture in her mind. She looked up to meet Nate’s eyes again as the pieces resettled into a clearer image. “I’ve chosen to forgive Aaron. I think it’s myself I’m struggling with. I didn’t mean to shoot him, but if he never walks again . . .” She couldn’t bring herself to speak aloud what might happen if he never walked again.
“Laura.” Nate’s voice took on strength, and his eyes pierced her. “What happened to Aaron wasn’t your fault. It was Rex’s. He raised the gun and pulled the trigger. He planned to take a life in that moment.” His voice softened. “And I’m just grateful you and Aaron are both still here.”
Pain sliced through her chest, raising a surge of tears to burn her eyes. “But that’s exactly what I’m afraid of.” Anger rose in her throat as she fought hard to hold the tears at bay. “My little brother lost his leg in the war, blown off by a cannonball. By the time he came home, the stump had healed, and he could move around with walking sticks. But he hated it.” Her voice shook with the memories. “He hated himself. Hated his life. Hated he could never be free to walk or run or work like every other man. Hated it so much he hanged himself.” She nearly shouted the last words, and the effort took everything she had left.
The tears flowed unbidden, and Nate pulled her into his arms. She let him hold her, soaking in his comfort. His strength. When would she finally stop mourning? She thought she’d let herself really grieve both Will and Robbie on her journey to Settler’s Fort. She’d found peace, even.
But now that Aaron possibly faced the same fate that had been Robbie’s demise . . . Robbie had been a strong, vibrant young man before that awful war robbed him of all hope. If Aaron chose that same path, Nate would lose his brother.
Would he blame her? She summoned a deep breath and pulled back.
Nate’s eyes spoke of painful determination. He moved one hand from her back to cup her chin. “Laura, I need you to know something. No matter what happens with Aaron, his situation is not your fault. The shooting wasn’t your fault. Whether he walks again or not isn’t your fault. And whatever he chooses to do with the outcome isn’t your fault.”
These next weeks would be hard for Nate. She knew better than anyone just how hard. But he was right. It was high time she stop comparing the two situations. Stop living in the pain.
And the challenges ahead would be easier for Nate if he had someone by his side to support him each step of the way. She’d not had that after Will died, and maybe she would have handled things better if she had.
She met Nate’s fierce gaze and, for once, it wasn’t hard to summon a smile.
Thirteen
The first thing Nate heard when he stepped into the doctor’s clinic Wednesday evening was the doctor’s voice. Thank you, Lord.
He’d not seen the man in over a week, and he was desperate to know what Doc Bradley’s thoughts were about Aaron’s leg.
Nate shed his hat, scarf, and gloves and left them on the hat tree, but kept his coat on. He couldn’t seem to get warm these days, although this clinic was the one place he came nearest to the feeling. In truth, this was the only actual building he entered most days.
The doctor stepped from the supply room, his own coat on and his leather medical bag in hand. “Nate.” His voice sounded weary as he offered a polite nod. The doctor’s shoulders hung low, as though he was exhausted.
Nate stepped out of the man’s way. “You’re heading out this late?” Darkness had settled a half hour ago.
“A catching fever and stomach ailment has been spreading on the east side of town. It seems two of my patients have suffered a turn for the worse since I was there this afternoon.” He glanced down the hall toward Aaron’s door. “Your brother’s spirits are low, even though the wound is healing fine. I’ve had him start doing exercises to strengthen the muscles. I think he can try to walk soon, but he has to want to.” The doctor nodded to him again, turned back to the door, and stepped out.
Aaron had to want to walk? There wasn’t anything either of them wanted more. And since Aaron had all day to do the exercises, he should make quick progress.
Nate strode to his brother’s door, then gave a light knock. “It’s me.” He had the quip he’d use in their usual greeting banter at the ready.
“Go away.” Aaron’s bark was muffled, but those certainly weren’t the right words. Maybe Nate hadn’t heard him right.
He pushed open the door and poked his head in. Aaron lay on the bed, hands clasped over his belly, staring up at the ceiling. Clearly, the doctor was right about his spirits being low.
Nate stepped inside and closed the door behind him, then strolled around the bed to sit on the far side. “You in pain tonight?” That wasn’t the line Nate was going to say, but the stony squint of Aaron’s eyes made clear he wasn’t up for anything lighthearted.
“I’m always in pain. My blasted bone is shattered. There’s a metal rod in my flesh. How could I not be in pain?”
Nate’s stomach knotted. Why did Aaron have to be the one lying there day after day, struggling through so much agony? How could God think this was the best way? If there was any chance Nate could go back in time and jump in front of that bullet—take this trial instead of his brother—he would do it without a second thought.
But there was no way to change reality. He could only help his brother work through this. He focused his gaze on Aaron, but his brother didn’t meet it.
Still, Nate pressed forward. “Doc Bradley said he showed you some exercises to strengthen the leg. He said you could be up and walking soon if you do them.”
Aaron snorted. “He’s just trying to pacify me. Trying to hold me off a little longer so I don’t tell everyone he’s a fake. That all his grand learning isn’t real.”
Nate pulled back. It wasn’t just the bitter tone Aaron used, but what in the world did he mean by his words? “You mean the surgery to add the metal plate? You have to give it more time, Aaron. It’s only been two weeks, and he said now is the time to start strengthening the muscles. You’ve not used them in months. It’s a process is all. The doctor said the wound is healing fine, so that’s good. Just buck up and do the work he gave you.”
“Work.” The word came out as a derisive grunt. “I don’t need work. I need something to stop this blasted pain. No one wants to give me anything. They don�
��t care a lick. Not even that girl you can’t stop ogling.”
Nate straightened. He didn’t ogle Laura; he respected her far too much for that. At least, he hoped he’d never given that appearance. Surely Aaron was just trying to get a rise out of him.
Forcing himself to breathe through his anger, he focused his response on the one comment he had to address. “Be careful how you talk about these people, Aaron. You got yourself in this mess by going along with Laura’s kidnapping in the beginning. They’ve done nothing but be kind to you ever since you got here. If you were a little nicer now, maybe they wouldn’t be so reluctant to come check on you.”
“I suppose putting a bullet in my leg is kind in your book? Is that what your new religion says? Turn the other cheek? More like turn the other leg.”
Nate pushed up from the bed. This had to be the pain talking. Aaron knew Laura’s shot hadn’t been intended for him. Only a twisted accident had landed that bullet in Aaron’s leg—an accident that still haunted her, if he’d gauged her reaction correctly the other day in the cave.
But was anything really an accident with God in control? How could the God who’d forgiven Nate of so many sins have intended all this pain and misery for Aaron? Was this what his brother needed to bring him to the point of repentance?
The thoughts warred in his mind like volleys of opposing gunfire. But all the questions were merely to make sense of the past. The answers would not change the fact that Aaron needed to do everything he could to walk again. He needed to pull from the melancholy and anger that seemed to be taking over.
Nate moved to the foot of the bed and turned to face his brother. “You know, you’re not the only one having a hard time here. I’m working myself into the ground trying to pay back our debt. I need you to do your part and exercise if the doctor tells you to.”
Not giving Aaron a chance to respond, Nate spun and walked out of the room. A few strides down the hallway, he slowed and forced his racing pulse to calm. Some days he just wanted to shake his brother by the shirtfront.
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