Love's Mountain Quest

by Misty M. Beller

  She scrambled to his side, ignoring her own aching knees. “Where are you hurt?” She pressed a hand to his shoulder and almost rolled him over, but stopped herself just in time. She didn’t dare move him until she knew the extent of any new injuries.

  “Not . . . hurt.” But the way his eyes squeezed shut and the bite of the words through clenched teeth proved he must be. Had her fall snapped the bone even more? Oh, God.

  He worked himself up to his elbows and one knee, then eased around to sit upright. His face contorted into a grimace and his breath came in rough gasps as he reached to straighten his splinted leg.

  She scooted toward his foot and adjusted it to lie naturally, then shot a glance at his face. “Is that better?”

  His eyes were still closed but more relaxed. “Yeah.” The word came out on an exhale, and she forced herself to breathe out her own spent air.

  “I’m sorry, Isaac. So sorry.”

  He opened his eyes, and his dark green gaze seemed to see deeper into her than usual. Deeper than she wanted. He reached out a hand and, for a second, she stared at it. Did he want her to give him something? Or to place her hand in his?

  Another glance at the soft expression on his face meant the latter, she was almost certain. So she obliged, slipping her palm into his, brushing against the calluses that came from a lifetime of honest labor.

  With a gentle strength, he tugged her forward. She scooted toward him, coming to rest on her knees just in front of him.

  He took her hands in each of his, and the earnestness in his gaze—the intensity—raised a burn to her eyes. She swallowed to keep the tears at bay. Why did they come now, of all times?

  “Joanna.” His thumbs stroked the backs of her hands. “I’m all right. No damage done. And it wasn’t your fault anyway.”

  The words, spoken so gently, were her undoing. A tear slipped past her defenses. “I’m so sorry.” Though she’d said it before, that phrase seemed to be all she could summon.

  “Aw, Joanna.” He released one of her hands and reached up to cup her cheek, his thumb stroking away the errant drop.

  The way he spoke her name, so much affection in his tone, only made it worse. Another tear followed the first. Then a drop leaked down her other cheek. She reached up to wipe it while he thumbed away the other.

  She couldn’t help but lean in to the warmth of his hand. The forgiveness it offered. Nay, more than forgiveness. Did she dare explore how much more?

  She’d come to respect this man more than she’d thought possible over the months she’d known him. And his nearness made her heart speed up. Even now, her body was aware of every part of him.

  His eyes drew her, called her in deeper, until she was lost in their depths. And in them was safety. A secure place she could lose herself.

  Then those eyes lowered to her lips. Her chest ached as a longing spread through her. She hadn’t felt this desire in so long. Had never thought she’d experience it again. Yet with Isaac, the yearning felt different. New and stronger than anything she’d wanted before.

  With everything in her, she craved his kiss.

  ELEVEN

  Joanna’s body drew toward Isaac without her bidding. And as he lowered his mouth toward hers, she couldn’t help but notice how perfect his lips were. Not too full. Not too thin. Just . . . right.

  His breath brushed her chin before his mouth touched hers, a warm precedent to a luxury that stole her breath. His lips were gentle, tender, but with an underlying strength that both called to her and made her feel safe.

  She responded to his kiss, and he drew her nearer, pulling her in even as her desire grew. This was so much more than she’d imagined.

  He was so much more than she’d let herself hope.

  With a groan he pulled himself away, but not far. He rested his forehead on hers, his breaths coming in deep drafts. For that matter, her own chest struggled to inflate fully.

  “Joanna.” His voice held an ache, as though drawing from the deepest part of him. He raised her hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles.

  She should say something. Somehow communicate how deeply his kiss had affected her. Yet her mind couldn’t summon a single word. She closed her hand around his.

  Her other hand had already found his cheek, but she slipped it back to cup his neck, her fingers sliding into his hair. The thick deliciousness of it drew her, and her fingers explored deeper.

  With another groan, he pulled himself back, adding another handbreadth of space between them. “Joanna.” He pressed her hand to his lips again, then eased backward farther, his hand slipping from her cheek. Her own hand slid out of his hair, finding its resting place in her lap.

  With a long exhale, he studied her face. Then one corner of his mouth tipped up. “I don’t feel a bit of pain now. You must have healed me.”

  A laugh slipped from her chest, completely unbidden. Her nerves were a jangled mess.

  A new awareness now tightened the air between them, and she couldn’t quite meet his eyes. She had to say something. Now. “I-I suppose we need to get you to the water, then I should get back to the horses.”

  “I can make it the rest of the way. Do what you need to with the animals.” His voice had lost a bit of its intimacy.

  She shot a look at him. His eyes still held the sweet intensity of their kiss, but a bit of pleasure had dimmed from them. Not being able to walk on his own was hard for his pride, she had no doubt. He could crawl to the creek from here, so it would be best if she left him with his dignity.

  “All right, then.” She pushed to her feet and turned back the direction they’d come.

  Laura cradled Samuel in her arms, stroking his hair from his face and willing her heart to stop pounding so loudly in her ears. Darkness was closing around them in earnest as the men moved back and forth through the camp, settling the horses, pulling out food, and going through their usual evening routine. Just like any other night.

  But this wasn’t a normal night at all.

  Tonight, under the thick cover of darkness, she and Samuel would escape. Lord, let him be well enough for what lies ahead. The boy had slept in Nate’s arms most of the afternoon and now lay remarkably still in hers. His breathing was still hoarse, as the air had to fight through the thickness in his nose and throat.

  “Miz Laura, I’m hungry,” Samuel whined, but she no longer had the heart to correct his tone.

  Her own stomach ached for food, feeling as though she hadn’t eaten in days. The meager strips of meat they were given at noon hadn’t sufficed to still her belly’s cry, not after so many meals of these slim rations.

  “I know, honey.” She ran her fingers through his copper curls again. “They’ll bring our food soon.”

  “When is my mama coming?”

  It was the question she dreaded the most, and he still asked every time they had a few moments together. Again, she couldn’t blame him.

  A fresh sprout of anger burst in her chest. Soon they’d be away from these scoundrels. Then somehow they’d find their way to the town that Nate’s note had spoken of. The note that now lay tucked in her bodice. Hidden, yet its presence so strong her skin had burned from its touch all day.

  Lord willing, the people in the town would help them back to Settler’s Fort. Had the search party Joanna would have sent given up on finding them yet? Maybe she would meet up with the group on the way back home.

  “All right.” Rex’s voice sent a jolt through her, jerking her from the hopeful thoughts. He strode to her and loomed almost directly overhead.

  She cringed away from him before she could stop herself. But he grabbed her arm, hauling her upright and rolling Samuel off her lap in a swift motion.

  “Let’s take a walk to the trees.” The man’s slimy voice didn’t have as much energy as usual, like he was weary from the long day, too. That usually meant his manner would be even less patient than normal.

  She stumbled forward to keep up with his iron grip on her arm, chancing a quick glan
ce back to make sure Samuel had recovered from his tumble out of her lap. The boy was propping himself up with his arms, but the red rims around his eyes looked like the start of tears. Oh, Samuel. Just a few hours more.

  Keeping pace with Rex was no easy feat, but she did her best not to anger him. She’d learned early on that, of all their kidnappers, Rex was the one to be feared most. Bill might be free with his fists, but this knave had an evilness about him that sent fear all the way to her core.

  Especially when he looked at her with as much lust as he did now. He practically threw her behind the first tree they reached outside of camp. She grabbed the coarse bark to keep herself upright and chanced a quick glance at him to see if he would turn a little to give her at least a pretense of modesty like the others did.

  His leer slid down her filthy dress, then back up to her face.

  She crossed her arms in front of her chest, hoping the look showed that she wouldn’t cower to him. But in truth, she was desperate for any barrier she could place between his hungry eyes and her body. And no matter how badly she needed to relieve herself, she’d combust before she did so while this man watched.

  But then his gaze dropped to the ground, and a wash of relief slipped through her. He leaned forward, and she stepped back, even as her heart climbed into her throat again. What was he doing?

  He didn’t reach for her, though. His hand shot out to swipe a slip of white from the ground.

  Horror sank through her as she realized what he grabbed. The note—it must have slipped from her bodice when she struggled to right herself.

  And now, what had been the ticket to her and Samuel’s freedom would be their death sentence.

  TWELVE

  Should she run?

  Every instinct in Laura screamed for her to sprint through the woods. But she couldn’t leave Samuel behind.

  Still, as red crept up this crazed man’s neck, her frantic mind told her she couldn’t stay here. Even though they were only strides from the camp, his icy stare and the steel set of his jaw left her little doubt he’d snap her neck in a second if he so desired.

  She took a step backward, but she couldn’t force herself to turn and run. Something about his inhuman calm—the gleam in his glacial blue eyes—seemed almost unholy. Like she’d always imagined Satan would look.

  And she couldn’t pull her gaze from him.

  The cock of a gun made her jump. Her gaze dropped to where the sound had come from. A pistol in Rex’s hand. She’d not even seen him draw the weapon.

  “Bill.” His voice held the same level cadence as normal, even as he called out. Yet the sound possessed an undertone so powerful, it might crush her in a single blow.

  “Yeah?” Thank goodness Bill came striding quickly, for she didn’t want to see what Rex would do if he had to call twice. Maybe Bill had picked up on the odd tone in this Satan-man’s voice.

  Without a word Rex handed him the note.

  Bill’s reaction was very different from Rex’s. Anger seared up to his face in a red-hot fury, erupting in a single yell. “Nate!” He spun toward the camp, crinkling the paper in a meaty fist as his long strides covered the distance.

  Nate was standing by Samuel, his hand on the boy’s shoulder. But after one look at the bully marching toward him, he motioned for the child to sit. Then he stepped forward to face whatever onslaught approached. He didn’t slip a glance toward Laura, which was probably best for him.

  As Bill neared, Aaron stepped in front of his brother, his own pistol drawn. “What’s your complaint, Carlton?”

  “Your brother”—he spat the word like it tasted of dung—“is planning to set our prisoners free tonight.”

  She couldn’t see Bill’s face, but it wasn’t hard to glimpse the flash of surprise that crossed Aaron’s. Nor the leveling of his gun.

  “Nate, is that true?” Aaron didn’t shift his gaze from the bear of a man in front of him.

  Nate stepped up beside his brother. “I told you I won’t be party to kidnapping. Let the woman and boy go free.”

  A low growl emanated from Rex’s throat, jerking Laura’s focus back to him. The sound was so menacing, she took a tiny step away before she could stop herself.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw Bill look their way, too. Then he turned back to the brothers. “You two weren’t more than pickpockets before we picked you up. We’ve made you rich, and this is how you thank us?” Bill’s burly hands squeezed into fists the size of her own head.

  Tension hung so thick in the air, she could barely breathe. She could almost smell the acrid odor of death. And fear. Like a soap-making gone horribly wrong, with the lye bubbling up just seconds before it exploded, spraying the landscape with a scalding mass that would incinerate everything it touched.

  Her gaze slipped to Samuel. The boy huddled in a tiny ball. She couldn’t see his eyes but could well imagine how round they were. Stricken by more terror than any child should know.

  “Put your gun away, Aaron. Or the woman dies here and now.” Rex’s low voice still held that almost otherworldly quality.

  “I’ll put my gun away if you swear not to touch her or the boy until we reach the cabin. Just like we agreed.” Aaron’s voice held a remarkable amount of steadiness—and a disinterestedness that had to be forced. She could only pray he wouldn’t back down on that demand.

  “And why would I make a promise like that? Our deal ended when your brother turned traitor.” Rex’s voice picked up the leer that she hated as his gaze raked over her again. It made her skin crawl.

  “Because we don’t have time for this.” Aaron’s tone was growing impatient. “You know the rules. We all do our part. We all split the profits. The sooner we get there, the sooner we enjoy our reward.”

  Oh, God. No. An image of what they planned for her flashed through her mind, and bile rose in her throat. She gulped a draft of air to keep it down. Surely God would save her before they reached that point. If He didn’t, she’d find a way to save herself.

  Rex reached for her and gripped her arm tight enough to stop the blood flowing, then kept the gun pointing at her as he propelled her beside him and marched back to camp. He hadn’t answered Aaron but seemed to be taking her back to the tree where Samuel waited.

  Aaron and Nate watched them pass by, and their distraction must have been the diversion Bill was looking for. He lunged for Aaron’s gun, landing partly on the man and rolling them both.

  Nate spun to the commotion, about to dive into the fray to side with his brother.

  “Don’t move.” Rex’s sharp command pulled a sideways glance from Nate. Enough to see the gun pressed to Laura’s own temple.

  She didn’t dare breathe. Couldn’t draw in air with Rex’s arm wrapped around her throat. This may well be the end of her. She had no doubt this rapscallion wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger.

  Poor Samuel. What would it do to him to witness another death? God, be with him. Save the boy.

  Nate’s jaw hardened, but he eased his hands out in front of him. “You hurt her, you’re dead.”

  Bill sprang to his feet and backed a few steps, Aaron’s rifle in his hand. He was breathing hard, as was Aaron, who still sat on the ground. A trickle of blood leaked from Aaron’s mouth, or maybe from a gash on his lip. The gaze he nailed Bill with would have felled a smaller man.

  “Keep them both still while I tie up the chit.” Rex finally loosened his viselike hold around her neck, then gripped her arm again and jerked her toward the tree.

  Within minutes, they were all tied—Nate, Aaron, Samuel, and her. And with the binding of her hands, the hope she’d let grow was trussed up, too.

  Joanna worked the pot back into one of the packs. With the cold spring beside them, Isaac had taken the chance to soak his broken leg the night before, and again that morning. She’d used the opportunity to make a nourishing meat stew and fry corn bread they could eat that morning and later on the trail. The respite had been much needed for them both, but now he was crawling out
of the pool, and they’d best move on.

  When she had the animals saddled and all the packs loaded, she brought them into the camp so Isaac wouldn’t have to walk far to mount.

  He stood waiting for her, his walking stick under one arm and his opposite hand braced against a tree. His face looked fresher than the day before, and every bit as handsome.

  Memories of their kiss flooded through her, stirring her insides with an intensity so strong that she could almost still feel his hand cradling her cheek. Still feel the warmth of his lips against hers. If only she could step into his arms and see if the sensations were as strong as she remembered.

  One corner of his mouth tipped up, as though he could read her thoughts. And of course that sent a surge of heat to her face that gave away anything he hadn’t guessed already.

  She focused on his horse and adjusted the animal’s reins. “Ready?”

  “Yep.” His voice sounded so near that a tingle ran down her back. Against her better judgment, she turned back to face him.

  He stood close, and she could feel the warmth of his breath on her face. With just a slight movement, either of them could close the distance. She could fulfill her wish from a moment before. A wish that had quickly turned to a craving.

  But he stepped back, breaking the link between them.

  His foot must have caught on something, or maybe he didn’t have the walking stick positioned right for the action. He stumbled backward, his upper body falling much faster than his feet could right himself.

  She grabbed for his arm, and her fingers grasped his shirt just before he would have fallen out of reach. She wasn’t strong enough to stop him, but her tug at least slowed his fall. He landed hard on his hip, and it took all her balance not to fall on top of him.

  She kept her feet underneath her, though, then dropped to her haunches to check on his injuries. “Are you hurt? I’m so sorry, Isaac.” She should have reached for him in time to help him stay upright. Of course he couldn’t walk backward with only that stick for a crutch. He could barely hobble forward.