High Desert Haven (The Shepherd's Heart)

by Lynnette Bonner

  With a whimper she rested her cheek on the ground again. A low sound vibrated through the cavern. Like a stiff wind blowing through ripened stalks of grain. She listened intently, trying to determine where it was coming from, but it was all around her, filling the cavern and coming seemingly from every direction.

  She couldn’t move her legs or the string pulled agonizingly at her dislocated shoulder and she was starting to get a cramp in her right thigh.

  Her tongue felt like a stick in her mouth. So thirsty. She pressed against the rag with her tongue and gagged, pain clenching her shoulder at the involuntary movement. Immediately she let up the pressure and tipped her face forward so the rag would gravitate to the front of her mouth. If she threw up it would mean the end for her, she knew. But if she could just get rid of the gag, she could breathe easier. She closed her eyes in concentration. The rawhide strips that kept the gag in her mouth were tied tight enough that she would never be able to push the rag past them. But maybe she could chew through them? She bit down hard and felt the leather give just before she gagged again.

  When the waves of pain had dulled and she was calm once again, a butterfly of hope fluttered in her stomach.

  She repeated the gesture and ground her teeth from side to side.

  Finally, on the fourth agonizing try the rawhide broke, and she spit the rag out as a satisfying rush of cool air filled her mouth.

  She cried for sheer happiness, feeling the sweet moisture of saliva soften her taste buds. She took a full breath and rested her cheek on the damp, soft cloth. In a moment she would see what else she could do, but for now it was enough to be able to breathe easily.

  Jason clenched his teeth and pounded a fist against his saddle’s pommel as Rocky scanned the road and embankments ahead of them for the third time. The trail had gone cold.

  Rocky looked at him apologetically. “He’s brushed the trail. I can still find it, but it’s going to take me a little longer.”

  Jason rubbed the back of his neck.

  Hoof beats sounded, and he turned to see Cade, Conner, and Sheriff Watts riding up.

  Cade cocked an eyebrow at Jason.

  Jason sighed. “Trail’s been brushed. But Rocky will find it.”

  Sheriff Watts surveyed the countryside. After a moment he harrumphed and said, “Any of ya’ll ever see’d a polecat?”

  Blankly, Jason and Cade eyed each other, but both turned back to nod at the sheriff.

  “Heard tell one time o’er in Nevada that a polecat won’t spray anywheres near its den.” The sheriff smirked. “I don’t know if it’s true or not, ’cause I was never crazy enough to track one so’s I could find out.”

  Several of the men chuckled. Cade’s horse shifted, and he stared down at a spot between his horse’s ears. Jason’s hands tightened on the reins and he focused on Watts, sensing the man was about to get to the crux of what he was saying.

  Watts spat into the dust of the roadbed. “Point is, closer ya get to a skunk’s den, the cleaner it is.” Jason’s head snapped up and he scanned the horizon, looking for anything that might be a hideout. Already it had taken them far too long to get here. Nicki could be somewhere injured, hurting. Dead.

  His heart threatened to stop.

  He made a split-second decision. “Rocky, Cade, and I will ride out wide and see if we come across a trail. We’ll each form a half circle and meet you down trail fifty yards.”

  Rocky never lost concentration on the road before him. He raised a hand of acknowledgment without looking up.

  Jason gestured for Cade to go left, and he took the side of the road to the right. He leaned forward in his saddle as his horse took the embankment and then studied the ground for any signs that someone had recently ridden this way. He was three-quarters of the way through his half of the circle when he spotted the pine branch and pulled up short.

  His pulse quickened.

  He leapt down and circled the area, carefully studying the ground. A few paces away the tracks of a horse could clearly be seen heading down the hill and across the valley.

  He gave a loud whistle that he knew Cade and Rocky would recognize, and when they both looked up he waved them over. His part of the circle had led him to much higher ground, but just ahead, the ground sloped down again quite steeply, and a narrow wildlife track led back to the road that Rocky was searching. Off to his left the ground had broken away sharply sometime in the past and formed a small cliff that was probably fifteen feet high by thirty feet long.

  Both Rocky and Cade urged their mounts forward and cantered his way.

  After just a moment’s rest, Nicki lifted her head again. No matter how badly her shoulder hurt, she had to try and work her way back to the top of the cave. Whatever had snagged the rawhide rope and stopped her slide had to be above her somewhere.

  She lay sideways to the slope now, her left shoulder lower than her dislocated right.

  Her right arm had no feeling in it now except for at the shoulder. And every time she so much as breathed, the joint sent thorns of pain shooting down through her body. Her left arm was tingling, and she guessed that soon it too would be totally numb.

  She needed to move immediately, before it was too late.

  She took a deep breath and held it, then tried to push off with her left shoulder and begin the process of getting her head pointed uphill. With the movement, white-hot shards shot through her shoulder and she cried out. But after a moment of recovery she forced herself to repeat the gesture and began to rock herself around so that her head was uphill.

  The shale under her gave way, and she started to slide again.

  Fear jolted through her, and she whimpered in the darkness. She dug her knees in with all her might, and her slide eased to a stop. But the pain pulsing from her shoulder was so vivid that she threw up. She was afraid to try again. If she started to slide again, she might not be able to stop herself. The rushing sound grew louder the further she slid into the cavern.

  “God!” she whispered in despair, tears dampening the ground beneath her face. “Where are you now?”

  There was no audible reply. She stilled her breathing. No voice as she had heard earlier above ground whispered her verses in her ear. Simple silence engulfed her and a thought penetrated. Something Mama had told her once while they were rolling out tortillas and Nicki had lamented about God having abandoned them.

  “Dominique, when you can’t feel God’s presence, you have to go back to the Word. Feelings are fleeting. They come and they go. One minute we are happy. The next we despair. Through it all, we trust in the Word that never changes because it is Truth. And the Truth sets us free. God says He will never leave us, or forsake us…and so…we trust. What else can we do? Like Peter we say, Who else has the words of life, eh?”

  Nicki sighed. “I know You are here, Jesus. Your Word says You will comfort me in the valley of death. But please, I don’t want to leave Sawyer with no one to watch over him. If it is my time to come to You, please lay it on Jason’s heart to raise him. He is a good man, who knows you and would be a good example to Sawyer.” A peace settled in her heart. “Thank you, Jesus.”

  Rocky and Cade swung from their saddles, and Jason handed Rocky the broken pine branch. “Found this right here and these hoofprints leading away. Are they the same ones we’ve been following?”

  Rocky stooped to examine the trail and after a moment he stood with a grim set to his lips. He lifted his hat and ran his fingers through his hair, then settled it back on his head. “Same tracks. The ground is a little softer here than it is out on the road so it’s a little hard to tell, but I think these prints would be deeper if the horse were holding the same amount of weight it was on the road.”

  Cade cleared his throat. “So she’s got to be near here somewhere.”

  Jason looked at the pine bough in his hands again. Then gave another piercing whistle and waved over the group of men still waiting on the road.

  As they all came to a stop, Jason held up the branch for eve
ryone’s inspection. “We’re looking for the pine tree this branch came off. That’s the best place to start searching. Everyone spread out and let’s find that tree.”

  Five minutes later Jason rounded a bend on the wildlife trail at the base of the hill and saw a pine tree just ahead, near the section of cliff wall. Heart thundering, he kicked his horse into a faster trot and hurried toward it. He spied the broken branch on the tree before he’d even slid from the saddle. Leaping down, he matched the broken ends together with trembling fingers.

  It fit. This was the tree.

  He spun in a circle looking for Nicki, even as he let loose with another whistle to signal Rocky, Cade, and the others. His horse shied and sidestepped, bobbing its head in protest of the loud sound. Jason put a hand on its neck to calm it, then led it to the tree and wrapped the reins around a low branch.

  Rocky and Sheriff Watts rode into view.

  “I found it!” Jason called. “She’s got to be near here somewhere!” Dear God, please let her be all right.

  Rocky stepped up beside him. Sheriff Watts kept all the others back until Rocky determined if there were any tracks.

  Jason’s hands were trembling like they had when he used to drink, so he shoved them deep into his pockets and studied Rocky intently.

  Rocky scanned the ground.

  Jason forced himself to study the area. There was not much here in the way of hiding places. Just juniper-covered hills, with tumbleweed-filled valleys. He looked at the pine tree. Peered up into its branches. Nothing.

  A thought occurred, and he swallowed hard. “What if he buried her?” He kicked a stone violently. “Why didn’t I keep a better eye on her?”

  Rocky laid a hand on his shoulder. “He wouldn’t have had time to bury her. Besides, I don’t see any evidence of that, do you?”

  Jason rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “I don’t see her around here either. Just Russian thistle.” He gestured to the mangled pile of tumbleweeds in a heap at the base of the cliff. “And sagebrush.” He stretched a hand toward the hills.

  “We’ll find her, Jason.”

  “I just hope it’s not too late when we do.”

  “Then stop hoping and get to praying.” Rocky squeezed his shoulder. “That’s what Gram would tell you.”

  Jason’s countenance softened. “Been doing that, too.”

  Sheriff Watts approached. “Find anything?”

  Rocky shook his head and stepped away from Jason, folding his arms across his chest. “Winds have been gusting a little. When that happens a brushed trail disappears pretty fast.”

  As if to prove the truth of his statement, a tumbleweed rolled by, followed by a stiff wind. The pile of tumbleweeds at the base of the cliff shifted. One fell away from the tangle and rolled down the game trail.

  Something tugged at Jason’s consciousness for attention and he paused, having learned long ago, that when tracking a criminal, the smallest details can be what give them away. He turned to study the pile of tumbleweeds heaped against the base of the cliff.

  They just didn’t look right, somehow, the way they were all stacked on top of each other.

  His heart began to hammer like a blacksmith.

  He took two swift strides and began tossing them aside like a man gone mad, ignoring the sharp barbed thorns that sank into his fingers.

  The mouth of a small low cave appeared and elation bubbled up, but he didn’t let himself react. This could be nothing. Simply some tumbleweeds that had piled up of their own volition against the cliff.

  Then he saw the marks just inside the opening of the cave and his hope disappeared. He sank to his knees. “I think I found her.” The words were a choked rasp. He bent down and peered deep into the cavern as Rocky, Cade, and Watts stepped up behind him.

  Dear Jesus.

  He cleared his throat. “The floor angles down steeply. I can’t see her.

  We’re going to need some rope and a torch.”

  Nicki heard a faint sound above her. Far away and muted. She lifted her head so that both ears were free to listen. The rush of sound all around her made it hard to distinguish any other sounds, but she thought she could hear men’s voices.

  “I’m here,” she tried to yell. But her mouth was so dry only a rasp came out. She closed her mouth and swallowed, moistening her throat. “I’m here!” Louder this time, but loud enough?

  A thought occurred. What if it was William coming back to finish the job?A low moan escaped and she pressed her face into the ground beneath her. Her whole body trembled, and she forced herself to whisper the psalm. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; For You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.”

  “Nicki? Nicki…Nicki…Nicki…”

  Someone called and she lifted her head. Her name echoed around the chamber, bouncing down to her from several directions. She could not distinguish the voice other than it was male.

  Rocks trickled past her, bouncing and pinging as they cascaded toward her. She closed her eyes, and pressed her cheek to the ground, willing down her pounding heart. She could do nothing but trust in Jesus now. If Jesus wanted her on this earth, He would save her. If not, then she knew that it was for the best. Sawyer was in His hands now.

  “Nicki?”

  The voice was louder now, and it sounded like Jason.

  Joy trilled through her heart. He had come for her! A faint orange glow dusted the air above her head. “I’m here!” she called.

  “Oh, thank You, Jesus!”

  More rocks cascaded past her head, and now she could see the flame glowing at the end of a torch. Shadows shifted on the walls, eerily swaying this way and that.

  “She’s down here! Let down more rope!”

  She sighed in relief. Soon she would be free of these bonds, and they could fix her arm. More scrabbling and she could feel the vibrations of his movement in the floor under her cheek now.

  Jason sucked in a sharp breath. “Nicki, I’m coming! Don’t move!” A strange note tinged the edge of his voice, one she’d never heard him use before.

  He was right there, his boots right above her head as he lay sprawled out on the cave floor, a halo of light emanating from the torch in one hand, his other firmly clasping a rope. His face was in shadow.

  Oh, how she longed to see his face. To trace the stubble along his jaw. To lose herself in the depths of his blue, blue eyes. To feel his lips pressed to hers with life coursing between them. “Jason.” She tried to scoot up closer to him but cried out when her shoulder protested, and she slid a little further down into the cavern.

  “Nicki!” Terror laced Jason’s voice. “Honey, don’t move. You can’t move!” A metallic prickle of fear started in the back of her throat and danced toward the tip of her tongue. She lifted her head and licked her lips, glancing back.

  Behind her the floor of the cave gave way to a gaping, black canyon. She was only inches from the edge!

  Terror sizzled through her and she pressed her face back to the ground, wishing she hadn’t just seen that.

  Jason called up to where the others held the rope. “More rope!”

  “That’s all we got,” came back the faint call.

  Jason huffed a breath of impatience and turned back to evaluate his options. Okay Lord, what now?

  He studied the scene below him in the flickering light of his torch. Somewhere far below he could hear the rush of an underground river. Above him, sharp spears of pointed rock hung from the ceiling. Some had grown so far down as to meet the ground and formed a pillar of sorts.

  Fear thrummed through his chest as he noted just how close she was to the edge. One more slip on the shale and she would go over for sure. Nicki was mere inches from falling to her death.

  He moved his torch so he could study how best to pull her up. Her hands and feet were bound and then tied to each other behind her so that her legs, bent at the knees, could not be straightened. One shoulder was oddly misshapen, and his stoma
ch curled. “Nicki, it’s really important that you don’t move, Honey. Don’t even nod or lift your head, just answer quietly. Your shoulder’s hurt, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” she answered softly.

  Assessing the situation, he only had one option. He propped the torch against a rock to one side of the cavern and worked his way far enough up the rope so that he could form a slip knot. Kicking off one boot, he slid his foot into the loop and cinched it tight around his ankle. The last thing he needed was his boot slipping off just as he was about to pull her to safety. Flipping over on his stomach he crawled down the incline toward Nicki once again.

  A tremor buzzed through his body. He just wanted to have her in the comfort of his arms, safe.

  He felt the rope go taut and stretched his body full length, reaching down as far as his arms could go. His fingers grazed the top of her head. The rope cut into his ankle.

  Frustration zinged through him. “It’s okay, Nicki. I’m going to get you out of here. Everything’s going to be all right.”

  He stretched again and bumped the torch. It toppled and bounced toward Nicki’s face.

  Instinctively Nicki jerked away from the flame. She started to slide.

  “No!” Jason lunged for her.

  William stared down at the newspaper lying on his table at home. One of his hands must have bought it in town and left it here for him to read. Arms stiff, he leaned heavily on clenched fists planted on either side of the article. Tom’s wife was dead. He felt a curious mix of dread and jubilation at the news.

  Jubilation, because Tom would be suffering now, and it was about time the man felt some torment.

  Dread, because he now had other problems to tie up. The Association had to have been behind this. And if they were going after Tom…

  He slammed a fist into the table. Just when he thought he had things back under control! Would they be coming for him next? Or would Tom himself come for him?