She caught Cyrus’ eye then, and something new shimmered there. Pride?
Whatever it was, it provided Kitty with another nugget of fortitude. In a way, it did not matter who left and who stayed. Tomorrow the sun would rise, and she would push forth. For her, the end did not exist.
Chapter Ten
10. Cyrus
Chapter ten
Cyrus kicked some dirt over the last of the dying flames. All around him, birds sang, welcoming the morning. What had once been a posse of eight men plus one petulant woman now stood as a group of six on opposite sides of the camp.
Domino. The Irishman Brady Walsh. The overeager, young Jim Butler. The quiet and polite Nelson Bowles. The aging Dan Starkey, who was headed to California and had no family left.
Cyrus had learned all their names the day before, but now he saw the five men in front of him in a new way. Only Grinnan Phelps and Paul King had chosen to leave.
Cyrus still couldn’t get his head around the fact that most of the men had decided to stay. It almost brought tears to his eyes.
Almost.
It had been years since he’d cried, and he wasn’t about to break such a good streak.
“Thank you,” he told King, shaking his hand.
King made firm eye contact. “I am sorry I cannot stay. It is against my better judgment at this point.”
“I know,” Cyrus nodded. He could tell this wasn’t the lifestyle King was used to. He looked like he should have been running a business back east, planning on attending the opera, or whatever it was well-off men did.
“I’ll tell the sheriff in Pathways about what has happened right away,” King promised. “Perhaps there will be some men who can come to your assistance.”
Cyrus tried not to smirk at that. Even if some men did come to help, it would be difficult for the posse to be found so deep in the mountains. Yet, it was a better plan than none.
“Be careful,” Cyrus told him.
The two men nodded and climbed onto their horse. Cyrus watched as the early morning mist swallowed them up. For a second, he envied them. Their trials were over for the time being. They could breathe easy until life threw the next hurdle their way.
Then Cyrus remembered what he was doing this all for. Somewhere in the Rocky Mountains, a woman needed his help.
And her sister needed his comfort.
Getting a hold of himself with a long inhale, he turned to the people waiting for him. Someone was missing, her absence felt right away.
“Where’s Kitty?”
The others looked around and shrugged.
“Went to the river,” Domino simply explained.
Cyrus found her near the rocks they’d sat at the night before, washing her face. He hung back for a moment, not sure if he should announce his presence. As he stepped back, some pebbles slid from under his boot, and Kitty turned at the noise.
“Oh!” She stood up quick, smoothing her hair and blinking water droplets from her lashes.
“We’re ready to go.”
“Yes.” Kitty nodded, still blinking fast. “Mr. Ross… Cyrus?”
He stayed where he was, and she looked at him in hesitation. “Uh-huh?” he urged.
Her eyes softened. “Thank you,” she whispered, those two little words full of more emotion than he would have thought possible.
A burning need to reach out and touch her filled Cyrus, but he held back. It wasn’t the right time, and he didn’t know what she would think of his hands making contact with her skin. Would she think he was taking advantage of her pain?
“It’s what family does,” he found himself saying.
Kitty’s eyes went wide with shock.
Cyrus pressed his lips together, shame filling him up. Why had he said such a thing?
Quickly, he turned, walking away from her fast as he could. The other men waited at the camp, and there they all wordlessly climbed onto their horses and rode off.
The new posse, though slightly smaller in number, felt stronger than before. Everyone there had chosen two times around to stay. It made Cyrus’ chest warm to think that all these men were willing to fight for someone they didn’t know.
I guess there is a bit of goodness in the world, he mused as the sun rose and the animals came to life.
Passing along the river, they kept their ears and eyes open. However, there were no signs of humans. They saw fish. Foxes. Squirrels. Once a river otter, which slid smoothly off a fallen log and into the water once it heard the horses. But no robbers. No kidnapped women.
And no torn strips from a dress, either.
Around noon, Cyrus glanced behind him to see how Kitty fared. She rode slumped in her saddle, her head hanging and her eyes weary.
“You’re not giving up on me, are you?” he asked, trying to be lighthearted about it.
“Never,” she seriously responded.
“Good. Wouldn’t want to have to dunk you in the water to wake you up.”
“Did someone mention a swim?” Jim asked from atop his horse. He wiped sweat from his blond brow. “I could use one of those. Did you see that otter back there? Gosh, what I wouldn’t give to be him for a day. Imagine just lounging around, getting fat on fish, and sleeping on logs. Not a care in the world. ”
He went on, yammering about this and that. It seemed to distract Kitty, though. She watched him with what was at least feigned interest, and Cyrus retreated, riding back to the front to join Domino.
“Let’s take a rest,” Cyrus suggested.
Domino nodded, and Cyrus did a quick study of his face before guiding his horse into some nearby shade. They hadn’t yet discussed just how long they would carry on for. Living off of fish and sleeping out in the open would only get them so far. Sooner or later, they were sure to meet up with some calamity or another.
“Twenty minutes,” Cyrus told everyone. “Then we’ll head back out.”
The others tied their own horses up and scattered, going down to the river or off into the woods. Kitty lumbered down the bank, probably thinking about the cool water waiting there.
Going to join Domino in some shade, Cyrus lowered himself onto a bed of moss with a sigh. “I just need answers.”
Domino flicked his pocket knife open and checked the sharpness of the blade by running it along a rock. “If they sell her, we won’t get them.”
Cyrus knew what that meant. If the robbers were dealing in human trafficking, then there would be no girl—and no body either—to claim.
The others returned shortly, and they headed out again. This time, Cyrus rode at the front of the line. If shots were to be sent their way, he’d realized, he was the one who needed to take them. Not only was he the one who’d organized the group, but he had fewer people who would miss him if he died.
Maybe he had none.
Unless Kitty counted.
Kitty. He silently mouthed her name, enjoying the crispness of it.
“Whoa!” Domino stopped his horse and pointed at the caked mud in front of them. They’d only been riding about five minutes, and what Cyrus saw in front of him made electricity spark in his veins.
Boot prints. Several rows of them.
“What is it?” Jim excitedly asked.
Domino slid off his horse and hunched down to inspect them.
“They look like regular prints to me,” Nelson Bowles, who’d gotten off his horse to see what was happening, said.
Domino stood up. “Yep.”
“Does this mean we’re close?” Kitty had left her saddle as well, and stood next to Bowles with wild eyes.
“It looks like it,” Cyrus told her.
She beamed up at him before rushing back to her horse.
They took the next mile slow, looking for more tracks. The caked mud showed up less and less though, and there wasn’t another boot print to be found.
Next to Cyrus, Domino shifted in his saddle. “It’s funny,” he said, so low Cyrus almost didn’t hear him.
“What’s that?”
Domi
no kept his gaze straight ahead. No one behind him would have guessed he carried on a conversation. “All the boot prints were the same size.”
Unease pulled the corners of Cyrus’ mouth down. “Yes,” he slowly whispered.
“But there were a few lines of them.”
Cyrus thought about that. Either Domino was suggesting the robbers all wore the same size boot, or…
“One man made the tracks,” he gasped, catching himself from saying it too loud just in time.
If that was the case, then whoever did it must have carefully walked back, going along grass and sticks, to make the same trail several times. They’d purposefully made it look like there was more than one person up ahead.
But why?
Cyrus didn’t have an answer—only a sick feeling in the pit of his gut.
Chapter Eleven
11. Kitty
Chapter eleven
Each inch of Kitty’s skin tingled with fear and excitement. They had found boot prints!
Surely, the tracks belonged to the men who had taken Helen. Who else would be so far up in the mountains?
Holding her reins tighter, Kitty watched Cyrus rock in his saddle ahead of her, his body moving a bit with his horse’s steps. Mr. Guthrie hadn’t said anything about the freshness of the tracks. Had they been made the day before? That morning?
Or ten minutes ago?
A fearful shiver traveled down Kitty’s neck. The feeling was the opposite of the joyful tingle she’d had a moment before. She checked out the bank across the river. The trees there seemed unnaturally thick, their shadows heavy and secretive.
“We’re so close,” Jim said, bringing his horse up to join hers. They were going along a flat area, winding around trees. Sometimes the horses could walk two next to each other, and sometimes they had to wait and pass between trees and bushes one at a time.
Kitty smiled at him. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-one.” He puffed his chest up proudly. “I’m moving to Pathways. My brothers have a farm there, and I’m going to work for them.”
“You are the same age as me,” she commented. Hearing Jim was so young made her heart hurt. Though they were of equal years, she suddenly felt a maternal tenderness toward him. She wanted to keep him protected; to return him safe and sound to his brothers.
“Thank you,” Kitty said. “I do not know if I have directly said that to you yet, but thank you from the bottom of my heart for doing this.”
Jim smiled and tipped his hat, revealing golden hair. “Don’t worry, miss. We’ll get your sister back. I’m a good shot. Grew up firing this thing off.” He patted the gun at his side.
Kitty smiled as well, but it felt more like a grimace. Hopefully, bullets would not be exchanged unless that became the last resort. If they could sneak up on the robbers… find some way to trick or distract them…
“Where do you live?” Jim was asking.
“Soon, Shallow Springs.”
“I don’t know where that is,” he admitted. “Since I’m from New York and all. Just came in on the train. I guess you knew that, though.”
“That’s all right. What kind of farm do your brothers have?” Talking made her feel better. It made the ride seem more normal and helped her to forget that danger could be hiding anywhere.
“Oh, they’re growing all kinds of things. Potatoes. Corn. Hay. But I’m going to be in charge of the cattle. We’re getting our first heads soon as I get there.”
“I do hope your brothers are not too worried about you.”
“Naw. They’ll have gotten word about what I’m doing by now. I’m sure they understand. They wouldn’t want me to leave two young ladies such as yourself and your sister hanging.”
Someone cleared their throat. Kitty looked ahead and caught sight of Cyrus glaring at the two of them over his shoulder. “You’re being loud,” he said.
“Oops.” Jim lowered his voice. “We don’t want those bandits to hear us,” he whispered. “Or Indians. Did you know there might be Indians in these mountains? My brother told me about them. There’s the Shoshone, and then the Crow Nation. Might be other ones, as well. Don’t worry, though, Miss Byrum. I’ll keep you safe.”
“Thank you,” she whispered back.
They fell into silence again as the ground beneath the horses’ hooves became increasingly rocky and more difficult to navigate. Kitty braced herself in the thoroughbred’s saddle, holding her breath. When the incline became too treacherous, the riders climbed off the horses and slowly led them by the reins. Kitty’s feet ached, and sweat coated her entire body, but the need to keep everyone—horses and people—safe and to find Helen kept her going.
After a good hour or two of walking and finding no further clues, they stopped in a heavily wooded area. Evergreens pressed in thick along the river, creating a heavy curtain on three sides. Kitty gingerly lowered her aching body onto a fallen log. She longed to take her shoes off and bathe her feet in the nearby water, but what decorum she still had left stopped her.
“Mr. Guthrie,” she loudly said, taking note of the man passing her by.
He stopped walking and lifted his hat in her direction.
“Are there still tracks?” Kitty held her breath as she waited for the answer.
Mr. Guthrie scrunched his face up and looked over Kitty’s head, at the trees behind her. “Not right now, but if we keep going this way, we’ll likely find some. I can almost guarantee they’re traveling by the river.”
Kitty nodded, her throat becoming thick. If there was only one path to take, then nothing more could be said on it.
“I’m sorry you have to ruin that fine dress.”
Kitty looked down at her traveling outfit. A thick layer of dust and mud covered the bottom of her skirt, and there was a tear in one of the sleeves. She’d long ago abandoned the jacket, leaving it tied to the horse’s saddle.
“A ruined dress is an easy price to pay for the return of my sister.” She studied Mr. Guthrie’s face, looking for a clue as to whether he still held hope of finding Helen or not. He merely nodded, though, looking down before turning away.
A great ball of pain gathered in Kitty’s heart. It did not matter what anyone thought, she would never give up hope. She had already asked God to safely return her sister. Greater miracles had happened many times.
Mr. Guthrie shuffled away, and Kitty caught sight of Cyrus tending to one of the horses. He lifted the animal’s hooves one by one, checking the quality of their shoes.
Had he lost confidence as well? The six men surrounding Kitty had pledged themselves to this journey, but for how long were they willing to go? Particularly if they did not find any more tracks or pieces of Helen’s dress?
How many days till Kitty became the only one unwilling to turn back?
Ugly feelings twisted deep in Kitty’s heart. She knew her thoughts were misleading her, taking her down a terrible road. She needed to remain strong, to be thankful, and to believe that all would turn out well.
Ignoring her earlier feelings of impropriety, she lifted her skirts and made her way over to the river’s edge. A row of smooth rocks extended nearly halfway into the river, creating a natural bridge. Stopping on the flattest and largest one, Kitty settled down and removed her shoes and stockings. The men were close behind her, but she would be swift. Just a nice dip of her toes in the water, enough to ease their throbbing, so she would be better prepared to continue on.
As soon as the water touched her skin, Kitty sighed in pleasure. Glancing over her shoulder, she noted all of the men were preoccupied. Cyrus still tended to the horses, while the others went through saddle bags or talked to each other.
Hiking her skirts up further, Kitty scooted closer to the edge of the rock. Water rushed around her feet, massaging her soles and ankles. She closed her eyes, enjoying the contrast of the coolness on her feet with the sun’s warmth on her face. Surely, there could be no better heaven than this.
Kitty shifted forward, attempting to get more of her l
egs in the refreshing water. Suddenly, she was falling forward. A cry slipped from her throat a second before she hit the water with a loud splash.
Her Rocky Trail_Seeing Ranch series Page 8
