She followed his finger and caught movement halfway down the incline. “Are those...sheep?”
“Mountain goats. You’ll see ’em scattered all over these hills. Decent eating if you get hungry, but I mostly leave ’em be.” They’d all reined in to watch the creatures grazing. “They can scale most any cliff or rock. The creatures are a wonder.”
Elias’ words brought back the memory of Andy standing atop the boulder. He had no fear. Not like her. In almost every way, her son was stronger than she was. A thought that filled her with thankfulness.
And utter terror.
EVEN SETH’S BONES WERE weary by the time they stopped to make camp for the evening. Samuel looked to be feeling the day’s grueling ride as much as he did, although someone who didn’t know him well might not see the signs. Hopefully Seth didn’t look as worn out as he felt either.
Mrs. Gray and her son seemed to be faring pretty well. They were clearly accustomed to long days in the saddle, although he didn’t miss the way she clutched the leather when she peered down from the higher elevations.
It was Samuel’s night to settle the animals, Seth’s turn to set-up camp and start the fire, and Elias’s turn to handle cooking. Likely, Mrs. Gray would want to be in charge of something, but they could accommodate whatever she chose.
After they unloaded the packs, he set about gathering firewood. Andy, too, was walking through the stubby cedar and pine trees, picking up dry sticks and logs. Working together, he and the boy would soon have enough for the night.
“You can set ’em down right here.” Elias motioned to the ground near where he worked as Andy approached with arms full.
Seth strode toward the spot to empty his own load, but the boy hesitated before stepping closer. Seth motioned for him to go first.
The lad looked at him, then darted a glance at the place where his mother had laid their packs a few feet away. “I...um. Ma said to put the wood for our fire over here.”
It took a moment for the words to take form in his mind. “Your fire? We only need one. We’ll just take turns cooking if your ma wants to make her own food.”
Andy looked toward his mother, who was tending their horses in a grassy area barely within sight. The boy looked uncertain.
The last thing Seth wanted was to cause trouble between them. “Never mind, son. Do what your ma said. I’ll talk with her about it.”
The boy looked relieved, but as he turned and dumped his load near their supplies, his brow still wore a troubled crease. He was more serious than any lad Seth had known. Much more than he or his brothers had been, even Serious Sam, as he’d sometimes called his twin.
After Seth eased his own wood into a stack, he grabbed a log that had rolled free of Andy’s load and handed it back to the boy. “How old are you, Andy?” He kept his tone as conversational as he could so he didn’t scare him off.
“Twelve, sir.”
He let a grin slide onto his face. “That’s a good age. I remember when Samuel and I were twelve. We’d spend summers helping our pa in the fields during the mornings, then head to the pond to eat our lunch. There was nothing better than swimming in cold water on a sizzling hot day. After we swam for an hour or two, we’d throw out fishing lines and let the sun dry us.
“If we caught something, we’d go home and take it to Mama. If we didn’t, we had to go help Pa finish up for the day.” He sent a knowing look toward the boy. “I didn’t have the knack for catching them that Samuel did, but he always made sure I had at least one fish to take home so I didn’t have to go back to the fields.”
The boy watched him with so much hunger in his expression, Seth wondered if he’d ever been fishing. Or ever had an easy afternoon swimming. How much hardship had Andy endured in his young life?
“I’d best get back to work.” Seth gave the boy a light clap on the shoulder.
Andy flinched as though he’d been struck, then turned away. “I need to start our fire.” The lad mumbled the words as though trying to cover up his reaction.
Seth’s mind spun as he gathered more wood. He wanted more than anything to march over to the boy and tell him he had nothing to fear from any of them. Andy and his mother were safe here.
But he had the feeling he’d need to do more than speak words. Consistent action was the only thing that would prove their safety. Being steady and dependable would show that he was trustworthy.
But that was something he’d never been good at. As much as he wanted to be solid and capable like Samuel, he always let his impulses lead the way. That certainly kept his life from being dull, but he’d made enough mistakes over the past six years that he’d gladly trade them all for boring and trustworthy any day.
In fact, that’s why they’d left California. A fresh start. Another chance.
And this time, with God’s help, he’d get it right.
Chapter Five
My heart says to never trust again. Yet my heart has been so thoroughly beaten down, I don’t know whether to believe it or not.
~ Rachel
“I THOUGHT I MADE IT clear to you, Mr. Grant. My son and I are only traveling with you. We’ll be cooking our own meals, caring for our own animals, and staying fully out of your way.” Rachel kept her hands propped on her hips so she didn’t do something with them she regretted.
He didn’t seem disturbed by her words at all, just kept that frustratingly calm—almost curious—expression. “I understand. I’m only saying there’s no need for you and Andy to have a separate fire. It’d be a sight easier to have one for us all, then take turns cooking.”
Easier yes, but she’d do whatever it took to keep her and Andy safe. And that required a bit of space from these men. She worked to level her voice. “We didn’t join on to make ourselves a bother. This way, you men can have your space, and we can still have a bit of privacy.” Surely he wouldn’t argue against that.
His mouth formed a thin line under the edges of his barely-grown beard. He seemed to study her for a moment. “If privacy is what you need, it’d be best to build a partition of sorts that would separate your bedroll from ours, but still give you access to the fire’s heat. I bet we could make something easily with a few logs and a blanket.” He was already looking around, maybe for branches to construct the idea forming in his mind.
“Wait.” She raised a hand.
He stalled, turning back to her. “It’s not safe for you to be separated over here." He looked from her pile of logs to the camp where Samuel and Elias were making camp and pretending not to watch the drama unfold. A good ten strides separated them. “A mountain lion or some other animal could strike, and we’d not know ’til we heard you scream.” His gaze seemed to drill into her, searing the truth of his words until they pressed into her chest.
Maybe she should just agree. After all, sharing the same fire wouldn’t change anything. She and Andy could still keep to themselves. They’d still be protected from another bear attack. It might be the best possible compromise.
She kept her back straight, but nodded. “All right. We’ll let our fire burn out and move our bedrolls over.”
The corners of his mouth twitched, but at least he had the decency to hold in his triumphant grin. “I’ll get started on that partition.”
It was almost humorous to watch the Grant brothers as they worked together to build the divider in the darkness. Elias was putting away the food from their evening meal while the younger men worked, and he seemed just as amused.
“It won’t hold without a crossbeam there.” Samuel Grant’s voice maintained a steady resolve, and she tried not to look their way.
“I have a crossbeam. Here.” Seth’s tone had been slowly building with frustration over the last few minutes.
“It needs another. Right there.”
“Fine. Here’s another." He tossed a long branch his way. "You want a third, too?”
“This will do.”
They sounded as if they might come to blows, and she shot a glance at Andy. Should she tak
e him to check on the horses so he didn’t see the argument turn violent?
But a chuckle drew her focus back to the men. Seth stepped away from their work, dusting his hands as he turned to her. “Mrs. G, you now have a partition sturdier than most house walls. Samuel made sure of it.”
She studied his face in the dancing firelight. How had his anger evaporated so quickly? Was he just holding it in?
He didn’t wait for an answer from her, but turned toward the dwindling campfire in the far camp. “Andy, let’s get these things moved over.”
THE NEXT MORNING ON the trail, Seth found himself bringing up the rear of the group. One of the men he used to gamble with had been a cowpuncher in Texas, and called this particular position riding drag. That man had hated the rear because of the thick dust a herd of cattle kicked up, but there was no such trouble with this group.
He had the perfect view of Mrs. Gray just ahead, her back tall in the saddle, yet so relaxed with the movement of the animal. She’d clearly spent a great deal of time on the back of her horse. The path was wide enough for them to ride double in most places, and Elias’s mule plugged along beside her white-gray gelding. She seemed a little more amiable toward Elias than toward him or Samuel. At least she hadn’t bitten Seth's head off yet this morning.
“I noticed you and the boy was eatin’ bear meat this mornin’.” Elias’s tone rumbled easily, conversational. “D’you buy it back at the fort?”
“We shot the beast when he entered our camp a few nights ago.” Tension hung in her tone, but there was no visible change in the outline of her shoulders. He wished he could see her face.
Then her words registered in his mind. A few nights ago...was that the shots that had jerked them from sleep around midnight? The ones Elias had stopped him from investigating?
He could imagine the fear of waking to find a bear in their camp. Elias made them hang all foodstuffs and cooking supplies in a tree far from the fire each night, but maybe Mrs. Gray hadn’t known to do that.
If they’d had food in their camp, no wonder the bear had come hunting. And three shots had been fired. Did that mean the bear hadn’t died with the first bullet? An angry grizzly could be terrifying...and deadly.
The very next night, she and Andy had shown up in their camp, asking for the security of the larger group. Now he understood why.
And he was even more thankful he’d pushed for them to join the rest of them around a single campfire. He didn’t like the idea of the woman and boy separated from them, even by a small distance.
Elias had kept her talking with a story about his own run-in with a grizzly, and Seth refocused on their conversation.
“He was an old feller, but his meat filled our bellies for a week at least. Maybe more.”
“It’s nice to have enough food to last a while.”
“Did you make sure you—” Elias cut his words as he threw a hand out to stop them. “Ho up there, Samuel. I see a passel o’ deer down the hill.”
Seth’s gelding saw the animals at the same time Elias did. The horse tensed, ears straining toward the new creatures, every muscle in his body quivering.
About fifty strides down the mountain, a group of six whitetail deer stood frozen. Watching them. Three appeared to be weanlings, just barely old enough to lose their spots. The other three were full-grown, one with a small pair of antlers.
“We need a bit more meat to carry us. I’m gonna take down the young buck.” Elias spoke low as he raised his rifle. A moment later, a blast split the air.
A scream sounded within the same breath, and from the corner of his eye, he saw Mrs. Gray clap hands against her ears.
One of the deer dropped to the ground, but the others bolted, leaping down the slope toward a cluster of trees.
“You all can rest yer horses while I take care o’ this feller.” Elias turned his mule from the trail, working his way down toward the brown heap.
Seth turned his focus back to the woman. Her shoulders had lost their easy line as she now clutched the saddle. Was it seeing an animal die that bothered her? Or did the gunshot remind her of the bear’s appearance the other night? Probably the latter.
He eased his horse alongside hers. Her face had paled three shades, but the sight of him seemed to reinvigorate her. At least, the way her shoulders squared and her jaw set in her typical determined look, he assumed that was the case.
He wanted desperately to say something to help her. Something that would ease her fears or maybe clear away the memories that seemed to frighten her. “I had a pet deer once. Or rather Samuel and I both did.”
She jerked her gaze to him, her eyes widening in a way that seemed to scrutinize whether he was telling the truth.
“We were just old enough to play in the fields by ourselves, and we discovered a young fawn.” He searched the recesses of his mind for any memories of the animal. “I think it must have been a week or two old, and we carried it back to the house. Our sister Noelle set us up with a pap feeder, and we nursed the fawn until it was old enough to wean. It lived in our yard for a few weeks after that. Then one day, it just disappeared.”
Samuel had been devastated by the animal’s leaving, but Seth had told his brother its family had come back for it. He’d really believed the story, too. Although now, he saw how much more likely it was that another animal had taken the baby. His heart panged at the realization.
“The only pet we had was a horse," she said. My father called him Alfred and pretended he was a prince that an evil fairy had turned into our gelding.” Her voice held a soft edge he’d never heard from her before.
He slid a glance at her. She’d loosened her grip on the saddle, and her gaze lingered in the direction of her son, although her focus seemed somewhere far away.
“Did he ever turn back into a prince?” He couldn’t help the question.
She looked over at him, the soft expression lingering a final moment before it turned to something sad. “We eventually lost him. Maybe he became some other girl’s prince.”
Then she reined her horse back and turned off the trail. “I’m going to see if Elias needs help.”
As her horse picked his way down the mountain, Samuel looked at Seth, his gaze making it clear he’d heard their exchange. Her final wording seemed to have his brother wondering, too. We eventually lost him. That made him think the animal died, but her next sentence sounded as if they’d sold him.
Samuel shrugged, showing he wasn’t going to lose sleep over the comment. “I guess we should all help.” Then he turned his horse toward the others, and Andy fell in behind him.
Seth brought up the rear to make sure the boy didn’t have trouble, but he couldn’t shake off his curiosity as easily as his brother had.
In truth, it was more than just curiosity. This woman’s life hadn’t been an easy ride, he was pretty sure of it. And the effects of her experiences had left her bruised in a way he craved to make better.
If she’d let him in, maybe he could help her shake off the wounds from the past.
But breaking through Mrs. Gray’s shell wasn’t going to be easy.
SETH SCOOPED OUT THE last of the flapjacks the next morning and loaded them onto a plate. Elias and Samuel had already filled up, then headed out to feed the animals and get things ready for the day.
Awareness tingled his skin even before the sound of soft footsteps alerted him to Mrs. Gray’s approach. Every part of him seemed to come alive when she was near.
He reached for the plate of cakes and turned to her. “I made more batter than I should have, and the boys are done eating. I’d be obliged if you and Andy would finish these off since we don’t really have room to pack them.” That was stretching the truth. They’d always make room for food, and he’d actually made these just for her and Andy. The hard part was getting her to accept them.
She slid a glance at the offering, then turned back to her own pot. “We have plenty.”
He grabbed his used dishes and stood, leaving the platter of j
ohnnycakes on the rock near the fire. “Just add these in with your other food.” He walked away before she could throw them at him. She probably wouldn’t waste good food, but he was learning never to underestimate this woman.
They’d camped a short walk away from a thin creek trickling from the rock face, and he did a quick job of scrubbing the tinware in the icy water. Even with summer coming on strong in the lowlands, these higher elevations still maintained cool nights and icy creeks.
One of the horses neighed in the distance as he worked, and Elias’s mule brayed an answer. Even the animals were ready to get on the trail. He stacked the last of the plates and moved on to the frying pan.
A gut-wrenching scream pierced the air, followed by the sharp clatter of iron. Mrs. Gray? He struggled to his feet, tossed the fryer to the ground beside the other dishes, and sprinted back toward the campfire.
Chapter Six
She doesn’t make it easy. Yet I’m up for the challenge.
~ Seth
SETH’S HEART RACED faster than his feet as he wove through the underbrush back to camp. Had Mrs. Gray burned herself? Been bitten by a snake?
It wasn’t like her to show weakness, which meant her scream had to be caused by more than dropping a log on her foot.
As he neared camp, he could see her form bent over, her son kneeling beside her.
Urgency propelled him faster. His breath came in short gasps as he pulled up beside them. “What happened?”
Andy whirled around, panic in his eyes. “Ma burned herself.”
Seth dropped to his knees by her other side, resting a hand on her shoulder as he took in the damage. She clutched her right wrist, the flesh of that hand an angry red.
“My hand slipped on the pot. Poured boiling water on me.” Her words ground between clenched teeth.
He’d been burned before—knew well the searing ache that could take a man to his knees—but he’d never experienced anything as bad as this. The flesh of her entire hand was raw.
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