by Jody Hedlund
She snuggled Violet closer, giving the babe every bit of body heat she could. Though the temperatures had dropped as they’d reached the higher elevation, the campfire blazed, putting out a measure of warmth. Two of Dexter’s friends sat close to it, feeding it fuel they’d cut from the endless supply of pine all around.
Dexter and two others were stretched out on bedrolls near Zoe. From the minute they’d lain down, their instant snoring told her just how accustomed they were to sleeping out in the wilderness. Neither the cold, nor the blackness of the night, nor the strange animal noises bothered any of them.
Even though Zoe had closed her eyes and attempted to sleep, each eerie howl, croak, and hoot had made her shiver. Dexter had warned her of the wolves and coyotes that were especially hungry after the long winter. He’d likely done it to scare her from trying to escape.
But he needn’t have worried. She had no plans to leave, wild animals or not. While she considered herself a fairly brave and determined woman, she wasn’t stupid enough to navigate the trail in the dark by herself. It was hard enough by daylight and would be deadly at night.
Besides, how could she travel in ankle-deep mud while weighted down with Violet and make any progress? Dexter would catch up to her and then carry through on his threat to harm Abe.
And there was no telling what he’d do to her. While he’d been considerate of her needs thus far, she was only a pawn in a bigger game he was playing with Zeke, and when he no longer needed her, he wouldn’t think twice about disposing of her.
She shuddered. Aye, the best course of action for now was to cooperate. Then once she got to Williamsville, she’d write to Abe and tell him where she was.
A vision of Lizzy’s face sifted through Zoe’s mind. What if Lizzy arrived during her absence? What if the young gentlewoman made a claim on Abe before Zoe could tell him how she really felt?
With fresh worry pounding through her body, Zoe decided to give up on sleep altogether. She opened her eyes, rolled to her back, and peered up at the sky. Only a few wispy clouds blocked the view of the thousands upon thousands of stars. She breathed in deeply, taking in the aroma of pine mingled with the thick smoke of the damp burning wood.
The canyon was beautiful, even if it was ruggedly dangerous. Maybe the grandeur of the place was worth treasuring even more because of the danger involved in getting there.
Wasn’t that a reflection of life? Beautiful things usually coexisted with pain and danger. The two walked hand in hand on the same path, and the contrast only made the beauty and joy all the greater.
She’d thought she needed to cut herself off from loving and investing in relationships because of the pain of loss. But whenever she considered her friendship with Jane and all the wonderful times they’d had together, she couldn’t imagine giving that up just so she didn’t have to feel the sorrow of losing her friend. She would have missed out on so much joy.
Wasn’t that the way it was with Abe too? She didn’t know how long she’d have him. There weren’t any guarantees. But she didn’t want to hold herself back from loving him and miss out on the joy and beauty because she was too focused on the dangers.
As she took in the stars, she remembered the sky the way it had been on the night they’d watched the northern lights, the easy way they could talk, the pleasure she had in his company, the way his smile made her insides tumble. She wanted more times like that for as long as God would give them to her.
She sighed her regret at reacting so rashly earlier and running away, and her eyelids drooped in weariness.
A hand covered Zoe’s mouth and startled her awake. For an instant, Zoe fought to understand where she was and what was happening.
At the sight of the starry sky overhead, everything came rushing back. Dexter had forced her to leave Yale with him. After riding up into the mountains, they’d camped for the night. And now someone was taking advantage of her, the lone woman in the group.
As her attacker pulled her off her bedroll, she thrashed wildly and attempted to break free. She couldn’t see her captor, but he was exceptionally strong and pinned her hands behind her back with his free hand.
She tried to make a noise, to scream, even to grunt. But the hand over her mouth and nose stifled the sound. A glance in the direction of the fire told her the two who’d been feeding the flames wouldn’t be of much help in protecting her anyway. Though sitting, they’d rested their heads and closed their eyes, shirking their duties.
Whoever was assaulting her had apparently been watching for this opportunity when no one was awake to defend her—maybe one of the fellas from a nearby camp. He crept with such stealth that no one would be able to hear him above the rushing of the river nearby. He half carried, half dragged her toward the forested area behind them.
Her mind screamed at her to figure out a way to free herself or alert Dexter of her danger before she was out of sight and out of range for anyone to rescue her.
She kicked and twisted and even tried to bite the hand that was across her mouth. But the hold was too immovable and strong. From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of another intruder slinking close-by, but only the outline.
Did more than one man intend to assault her?
As the darkness of the forest closed in around her and branches scraped her, she expected that any moment he’d drop her to the ground. She tensed in readiness, determined to hit, claw, and kick, even if she was outnumbered.
The blackness of the wild thick pines and night combined so that she couldn’t see anything, not even the sky. Her captor moved with surprising swiftness and agility. And he hardly made a sound. She couldn’t hear the other person either. But the frightened cry of a babe came from not far away.
Violet? Had the men taken Violet too?
Anger and fear erupted inside Zoe. How dare they harm an innocent babe? Zoe flailed again and managed to wrench one of her arms free. She pounded it against her captor, desperate to free herself and rescue Violet.
The man grabbed her hand again and this time picked her up into his arms so that he was no longer dragging her. She bucked against him and wrestled to free herself, suddenly sensing that this wasn’t a man from another camp.
The leather clothing was strange and his movements too certain to belong to a miner. As he stepped into a thinning area of forest, the canopy of branches overhead opened enough for her to see his bronzed face. His dark hair was smoothed back into braids, and his expression was fierce.
“No more fight,” he said in broken English. “Must be quiet.”
But Zoe had already stopped fighting, too frightened to do anything but stare. During the voyage from England to the colonies, the women had liked to tell one another stories. Some of their favorites had been about natives kidnapping English colonists and forcing them to become their slaves. Many of the abducted were never seen again, but a few were later recovered hardly recognizable, as they’d become part of the tribe with whom they’d lived for so many years.
As the native carried her deeper into the forest, Zoe closed her eyes to block out what was happening. She’d thought being kidnapped by Dexter Dawson was bad enough. But this was worse. Much worse.
thirty-two
The rocks beneath Abe dug into his ribs and thighs where he lay unmoving on the ridge with Zeke on one side and Will on the other. His finger against the trigger was stiff, and his arm ached from holding the rifle in one position for so long.
But the light of dawn was finally beginning to make its way above the canyon walls and the towering pine and fir trees. It wouldn’t be long before the men in the camp below began to stir. And then the fight would begin.
He squinted through the darkness again, trying to figure out exactly where Zoe was bedded down. Against the low blaze of firelight, they’d counted six people in Dex’s camp—two keeping watch by the fire and four on pallets nearby. A couple smaller campfires revealed half a dozen other prospectors camping in the level area next to the river. Abe could only pray they wouldn’
t join Dex in the conflict.
He glanced around the ridge. Thankfully, the men in the posse were staying well hidden, just as Zeke had instructed. During the past hour of tense waiting, Abe had been praying God would protect all who had ridden with him for long hours that night to rescue Zoe.
And he’d been praying Zoe, with Violet, would scramble to safety the second the first gunshot was fired. Zeke had assured him Zoe was smart, that she’d take cover, especially when she realized they’d come after her. While Abe agreed Zoe was a strong woman and could handle anything that came her way, his uneasiness had swelled.
Maybe he shouldn’t have brought so many innocent men with him—men who had become like brothers to him. Of course, the moment he’d stepped into Happy’s Tavern and voiced his need to form the posse, his friends had eagerly come forward, wanting to help him the same way he’d always helped them. Abe could only pray none of them would come to harm, especially Will.
“How are you doing?” he whispered to the boy as he already had a dozen times since they’d left Yale.
“Stop worrying about me, Pastor Abe.” With his head resting on his arms, which were crossed in front of him, Will didn’t seem in the least perturbed by the fact that they were about to engage in a gunfight with a dangerous group of outlaws.
“You just make sure you stay up here and out of the way.”
“I lost count of how many times you told me that.”
“I should have made you stay home.”
“And you know I’da just followed you up here anyway.”
Zeke pressed his finger against his lips, warning them to silence.
Abe nodded, adjusted his arm, and sighted down his rifle, which he’d fixed square upon Dex. He’d never shot at a man before, but if Dex had hurt Zoe in any way . . .
He quickly cut off the thought before he got worked up again. He wouldn’t do Zoe any good if he panicked. He had to stay composed. Like Zeke.
Abe eyed Zoe’s brother again. His low, lean profile was intense, his gaze focused, his muscles taut. Over the past hours of riding and working together, Abe had grown to admire the man’s leadership skills. With his commanding and yet calm attitude, Zeke had taken charge of the posse, planning out their method of attack and assigning each person specific tasks. When he’d given Mr. Hemming the job of standing guard down trail and watching their back, Abe had wanted to hug him for his sensitivity to the older man. Abe suspected Zeke had positioned himself in the same area as Will so he could keep his eye on the boy just as Abe was doing.
He saw a great deal of Zoe in Zeke, not just in his physical appearance, but in his mannerisms, the easy way he smiled and teased, the inner strength of purpose, and his consideration for everyone he met.
They’d talked most of the ride up the canyon, and Zeke had been open about his life since running away from Manchester, how he’d struggled the first months up in the goldfields and had almost given up.
Abe had asked him if he’d made peace with God over all that had happened, and Zeke had closed up. The silence had been all the answer Abe needed to realize that while Zeke might be willing to reconcile with Zoe, he wasn’t willing to do so with the Lord.
Abe lifted up a silent prayer for Zeke as he had throughout the night, a prayer that God’s Spirit would break through the barriers holding Zeke back. Then he prayed again for Zoe, that the Lord would graciously give him another chance with his wife so this time he could show her just how much she meant to him.
The light over the eastern range took on a golden quality, illuminating a distant mountain in color while everything else around it was like a black-and-white photograph. With the glow, the sleeping forms below took better shape.
“Five more minutes,” Zeke whispered, “and I’ll fire the first shot to wake them up.”
Abe nodded. The element of surprise was on their side, as well as the fact that they surrounded Dex and his group, having the higher ground and the cover of the cliffs.
“Will?” Zeke angled his head at the boy. “You’re my messenger. I need you to crawl around to each of the men and tell them to be ready in five minutes. Then hightail it right back here. Think you can do that?”
“Acourse I can,” he whispered before wriggling backward like a snake and disappearing into the brush.
Zeke waited a moment as if making sure the boy was gone and then leaned toward Abe. “If things go wrong, I want you to grab Zoe, gather up the men, and get on out of here as fast as you can.”
The seriousness in Zeke’s eyes told Abe that anything could happen. That even with their element of surprise, there weren’t any guarantees. Abe also knew what Zeke wasn’t saying—that if needed, he’d hand himself over to Dex in order to gain Zoe’s freedom.
“I’m not leaving you behind at the mercy of Dex,” Abe whispered back. “I could never do that. And you know as well as I do Zoe wouldn’t either.”
“That’s why you have to make her leave. Throw her over your shoulder and ride off with her if that’s what it’s gonna take.”
Abe started to shake his head, but the gleam in Zeke’s eyes stopped him. “I’ll never forgive myself for leaving her behind at the mercy of our father’s fists. Now with the chance to save her, I have to do it.”
“I should be the one to hand myself over to Dex. My ignorance got us into this mess in the first place.”
“No. She needs you. She needs someone who’ll love her the way she deserves.”
“She needs you too—”
“Promise you’ll keep her safe?”
The urgency in Zeke’s voice told Abe he had no other choice but to agree. “I promise.”
Zeke nodded, then focused down the barrel of his rifle.
Zoe had ceased struggling now that she was holding Violet.
Earlier, the other native had handed Violet over to her when the babe’s cries had grown too loud.
“Keep baby quiet!” he’d demanded.
Zoe had snuggled Violet against her chest, kissed the little girl’s cheeks, and then whispered endearments until the cries had silenced.
They walked for a short while before they reached a cave. Her captor set her down and forced her to enter ahead of him. He kept a tight grip on her arm so she had no chance of slipping away—not that she considered trying it, not in the middle of a forest. She had no way of knowing which way to go and would only get hopelessly lost. Her best chance of escaping was waiting until daylight and finding a marked trail she could follow.
More voices speaking the native language greeted her captor, but in the darkness, Zoe couldn’t distinguish how many more there were. Without any light, Violet went back to sleep, and Zoe nearly did too.
She guessed an hour or two passed by the time her captor prodded her back up and ushered her into the forest. The sky overhead had begun to lighten, showing the first signs of dawn. The native picked her up again, and they resumed their hike through the woods, this time with more Indians creeping along soundlessly behind them.
Violet snuggled against Zoe, sucking her thumb, eyes wide open, and frightened of the stranger holding them both. Zoe kissed the little girl’s nose to reassure her and to keep her from crying again, thankful her captors had allowed her to keep Violet and hadn’t left the infant behind at the mercy of Dexter and his men.
She shuddered to think of Violet alone with Dexter. Yesterday he’d threatened to toss Violet over the side of the canyon if she caused too much trouble. Even though he’d said it with a grin, Zoe had sensed an undercurrent of threat, one warning her not to cause any trouble either.
Maybe her new kidnappers would show more compassion toward Violet since she was a native child.
Even as her entire being protested the idea of having to give the sweet babe up, Zoe realized she loved Abe enough to do anything for him, even if that meant letting go of Violet. If she ever made it back to Abe, she’d work hard at locating a good family for Violet, one that would love the child as their own.
When her captors finally stopped
again, the man holding her was breathing hard. While she was a fairly thin woman, she guessed that carrying her was no easy feat, especially at the pace he’d kept and with the added burden of holding Violet.
Around them, the light of dawn revealed that the forest had given way to craggy cliffs rising steeply upward. The other men moved into the open and stared at her and Violet. Their faces were painted with black streaks. Many were adorned with feathers, beads, or shells wound with leather strips around their long braids. Others had shells in their ears similar to the Indian guide she’d met in Victoria. Some wore English shirts and trousers, but others had leggings and bare chests covered by hand-woven capes.
Though they appeared fierce and warlike, Zoe quelled her fear and tried not to think about what these men were capable of doing to her or where they might take her. Instead, she stared back defiantly, ready to defend herself and Violet if anyone tried to harm them.
Her captor spoke quietly, almost urgently, in a language Zoe didn’t understand. And the others glanced up the cliff and around. From the way he held himself and the respect he commanded, she sensed he was the leader.
The question was, What did he want from her? Did he plan to make her and Violet his slaves? If so, why would he carry her rather than tying her up and making her walk?
A gunshot came from a short distance away, but higher up. The bang echoed off the rocks and jarred Zoe down to her bones. Violet paused in sucking her thumb only to start up again more quickly.
Her captor issued sharp words to his comrades, and they scurried off in different directions, carrying an assortment of weapons—bows and arrows, long knives, and even rifles. Who were they fighting and why?
Only her captor remained. As he lowered her, she wobbled, her legs stiff from disuse. He reached out a strong hand to steady her, and she saw his features clearly for the first time. Violet stared at the Indian, her eyes growing wide again. While his face was as fierce and painted as the others, his eyes regarded her kindly, almost gently.
