by Karen Kirst
She hesitated a moment longer, then set her jaw and sat forward. “It’s probably best if you roll onto your good side first.”
He nodded. Gently he moved his left arm under his body and rolled onto that side. Pain screamed at him to keep still, but he fought it by gritting his teeth. “All right. Now help me sit up.”
Biting her lip, she reached out and gingerly took hold of his right arm. Even the reluctant tug she gave his arm aggravated his injury. He clenched his jaw over the ache and sat up. Immediately the cabin began to spin and tilt. Myles lowered his head, nearly to his chest, and gripped his knees until the dizziness subsided.
Would he be able to sit on his horse? Anxiety churned his empty stomach at the thought of not being able to continue on for Delsie. He loved her and he’d promised to protect her—he had to keep going.
When he could see straight again, he tipped his chin up, his left hand curling into a tight fist against his thigh. “All right. Now I want you to help me stand.”
“What?” Delsie shook her head. “Myles, you were shot with an arrow last night. You’ve either been passed out or restless with the pain since then.”
He met her determined gaze with one of his own. “We were supposed to go another twenty miles last night before we stopped. That would’ve put us only sixty miles from your sister. She gets married tomorrow, Delsie.”
She visibly swallowed, but the firmness in her expression didn’t waver. “I’ll just have to miss it. Because I’m not leaving you behind.”
She’d give up her chance to reconcile with her family, for him? He studied her beautiful face, an unfamiliar lump filling his throat. He coughed it away. “You don’t know what you’re saying. I’m not going to let you quit.”
“And you can’t ride today.”
“Stubborn woman,” he muttered, shaking his head.
The tiniest smile lifted her lips. “Pigheaded man.”
Her fortitude would be the death of them both, he thought wryly. How could he convince her that he would do anything for her, even if that meant they had to tie him to the saddle? But already, the room was beginning to tip again and he felt as if he might vomit from sitting up even this long. With a groan of defeat, he dropped to his side.
“Are you all right? Can I get you anything?”
“I’ll take some water,” he said, more to give her something to do while he took the few minutes to himself to think. Or try to think. The pain messed with his normally clearheaded mind. That, and the concern and sacrifice of the woman he loved.
“I’ll be right back.” She picked up a cup and exited the cabin.
Myles forced a few deep breaths, though his chest protested it as much as his shoulder did. If he couldn’t ride, then what? He would not lie here and watch Delsie miss the very event she’d come nearly eighteen hundred miles to be at.
Could Amos go with her? Possibly. But without the older man’s help, Myles might not survive long enough to climb back into a saddle. As much as he hated to admit it, he needed someone here to help him get food, water and fresh bandages.
That left only one solution, and the more Myles pondered it, the more he felt the rightness of it deep down. Delsie could go on. The lessons he’d given her on the trail hadn’t been just happenstance. Surely God had seen what might happen, and He’d inspired Myles to help her learn to fend for herself.
Did he dare let her go, though? He hated the idea of not being at her side, protecting her, as she ventured on her own in an unfamiliar desert.
But she’s not alone.
The thought reminded him of the one he’d had right before the Indian had shot him. The recollection filled him with awe, temporarily numbing his pain. If he hadn’t looked up when he did, he wouldn’t have turned away from the arrow. It would have struck him in the chest or abdomen, and that would have meant a sure and agonizing death.
God wasn’t just aware of Delsie. He was looking out for Myles, too. The man who’d bitterly told himself he’d been abandoned, that God had no need of him and his lowly station in life, had been wrong. If anything, God had stepped up His efforts to help Myles since Charles’s death, giving him a friend in Cynthia, and Elijah and Amos. And now Delsie.
The lump returned to his throat and this time tears pricked his eyes as a feeling of warmth and peace settled like a blanket over his entire body. His shoulder still throbbed with pain, but he would be all right.
And so would Delsie.
She stepped back into the cabin, carefully carrying the full cup. “Here you go.”
Myles willed back the moisture in his eyes and lifted his head as she brought the cup to his mouth. “Thank you.”
She smiled, a real smile. “You’re welcome. Amos should be back soon, and then you can have a little meat.”
He reached out and took her free hand in his. She threw him a questioning glance. “After he comes back, I want you to have him saddle up your mare.”
“Myles, we went over this.” She glanced away. “I’m not leaving—”
“Delsie?” He waited for her to face him again. “I need you to do this. Your sister needs you to do this.” He turned her hand over and ran his thumb over the hardened blisters of her palm. “I think God needs you to do this, too.”
Her brow knit in disbelief. “I don’t know when to stop or what to feed my horse.”
Was she relenting? “Amos can give you his watch or you can simply stop at every other station and pay them to feed you and the mare.”
“What about the Indians?”
“We’re close enough to Carson Valley that there shouldn’t be any more trouble like that. The Express stations should be open from this point on.” He motioned to the gun on the table. “Just in case, you can take one of my revolvers with you. You’ll be fine. Your horse can outrun those ponies we saw yesterday.”
She pressed her lips together. “I don’t know.”
“You can do this, darling.” The endearment rolled effortlessly off his tongue. Would he say it as easily again, to some other woman, someday? “We practiced how to saddle and unsaddle your mare, if you need to do that. You also know how to shoot and how to cook. It’s only eighty miles. Slightly less than a typical day for us on the trail.”
Delsie released a heavy sigh and dropped her chin. A single tear rolled down her face.
“It wasn’t just coincidence that we met,” Myles said, using his other hand, despite the pain it caused, to brush the tear from her skin. Skin that was no longer creamy white but slightly brown and freckled. And he loved it. “God put you and me there together by the stables that day. And He helped me teach you everything you need to finish this, Delsie. You can set everything right with your family. You can keep your promise.”
When she lifted her head, her chin was trembling. “But I don’t want to say goodbye.” Her words were perfect echoes of those she’d voiced right before their kiss in the barn all those days ago.
Was that the real reason for her reluctance? He didn’t want to say goodbye, either, especially not now, like this. “It was coming eventually,” Myles replied, if only to mask the ache near his heart at the thought of not seeing her again.
She frowned. Was she hoping he’d say more? The words pushed toward his mouth and made his heart pound in his chest. He wanted to tell her how much she meant to him, that he loved her more than he’d ever loved anyone. But he couldn’t. It wasn’t fair to her, to claim her heart when neither of them could make good on such a claim. She had to return to her father and her life in Pennsylvania and he had to return to his job and his tiny room back in Saint Joe.
“I’ll never ever forget you, Myles.” She clasped his hand between both of hers. “You have become…” Her voice hitched with a sob. “My dearest, dearest friend.”
“And you mine,” he murmured so low he wasn’t sure if she heard him. “Does this mean you’re going?” he asked more loudly.
She laughed, in spite of her tears. “I suppose it does.”
“Then I’ll say fare
well, Miss Delsie Radford…” Foolish or not, he lifted one of her hands and kissed her knuckles, enjoying the feel of her skin beneath his lips for the last time.
“Goodbye, Myles Patton.” That steely spark had returned to her dark blue eyes. “Promise me you will get better?”
“I promise.”
With a decisive nod, she stood and went to the table where her valise sat beside his gun. “Here’s the money for you and Amos.” She set the stacks of bills on the chair beside his bed.
“That’s too much,” Myles protested. “We didn’t get you all the way there.”
She glared down at him. “It’s my money and I’ll do with it as I want.”
Amos appeared in the doorway, a limp coyote hanging from one hand. “Myles, you’re awake.” He took in Delsie and the money and cocked his head. “What’s going on?”
She shot Myles a look, then raised her chin. Her bravery was better medicine than anything he could think of. “I’m going on, alone.”
“You certain?” Amos asked.
This time she didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
Amos shot her a sad smile, reminding Myles that he wasn’t the only one regretting Delsie’s approaching absence. “Then we’d best draw you up a map.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Delsie hadn’t felt this weary since her first full day of riding, almost three weeks ago. Or this lonely since Lillie had left. While Amos and Myles hadn’t been real conversationalists most of the time, she’d realized after only a few miles on her own that she missed their steady company.
After adjusting her grip on the reins, she checked the pocket watch Amos had insisted she take with her. A gift, he told her, for a woman I would have been proud to have as a daughter. The face of the clock became distorted from her tears, but she sniffed them back. Another thirty minutes or so before she needed to rest the mare.
She released the watch to dangle from where she’d pinned it to her waistband and gazed at the landscape around her. Unlike the desolate desert landscape, now there were trees and green hills. But even the lovely scenery couldn’t keep her thoughts from returning—once again—to Myles.
Saying goodbye to him had left her feeling more hollow inside than seeing her sister leave. At least she would be reunited with Lillie tonight. She was likely to never see Myles again.
She pressed a hand to her heart, wishing she could relieve the pain throbbing there. No wonder people talked about dying of a broken heart. Would time eventually ease the ache or would she carry this soreness for the rest of her life?
She’d wanted so much to tell Myles that she loved him and couldn’t bear to have him gone from her life, and for him to say the same. But she knew it would’ve only made leaving him that much harder.
“What am I to do, girl?” she murmured to the mare. The mount flicked her ears back as though listening. “I don’t know that I can ever truly forget him.”
Memories of Myles were tightly, and wonderfully, woven through every part of her journey West. And though her pain was acute at separating from him, she wouldn’t trade the experience of knowing him. A traitorous tear slid down her cheek, but she quickly swiped it away. She’d cried enough the past few days. Recalling Myles’s words of confidence, that she could make this last stretch alone, renewed her usual optimism and faith.
Lowering her chin, she shut her eyes. “Bless me to make it to Lillie,” she quietly prayed aloud. “And bless Myles that he’ll fully recover. Help him get the horse ranch he desires. Bless Amos, too. They are both good men. The best I’ve ever met.” Her voice wobbled with emotion, but she swallowed it back. “I’ll be forever grateful for the chance to know them.”
When she opened her eyes, Delsie lifted her head and nudged her horse to move a little faster. She had nearly eighty miles to go before she could once again embrace her sister. And nothing would stop her from getting there.
*
Fire streaked the western sky as the sun disappeared. Delsie removed her hat and allowed the nice evening breeze to ruffle her sweat-dampened hair. Her muscles felt unusually sore tonight, especially considering she’d been riding every day for weeks. But she’d had to perform all their daily tasks alone these past fifty-five miles or so. Getting in and out of the saddle, talking to the Express station owners, watering her horse, procuring food for both of them. She hadn’t realized how much Amos and Myles had helped, or the company they’d provided, until they were no longer with her.
Blowing out a tired sigh, she plopped her hat back on and patted her mare’s neck. “We’re so close, girl. Only twenty-five miles to go.”
She’d already decided to keep riding, even after dark. Stopping now was unthinkable when she was so close to reaching Lillie. Thankfully, she and her horse had been well fed at the last station where they’d rested. With a full belly, she figured she could easily keep going, especially if the moon were bright enough to see by.
With no one to talk to, she began to hum a song. It was the one she and Amos had sung before Myles had finally joined in. A smile lifted her lips at the recollection. She’d had her suspicions early on that Myles’s faith had only been shaken and not completely erased. And that had proven true. She hoped he would continue to nourish it, though she couldn’t help thinking a handsome, God-fearing man like him would surely be snatched up sooner than later by some young lady.
The possibility made her smile slip, so she hurried to replace it with thoughts of Lillie. What would her sister say when Delsie knocked on her door at the boardinghouse in a few more hours? She couldn’t wait to see the surprise in her sister’s green eyes and to throw her arms around her. Why, she’d even be able to help her dress for the wedding tomorrow.
Sunset soon gave way to dusk, lengthening the shadows around her. She checked her watch. It was about time to stop and rest the mare, but she’d wait until she found some water.
The light was fast fading from the sky. Delsie peered up at the crescent-shaped moon. It wasn’t nearly as bright as she’d hoped, though it would surely provide enough visibility to keep riding.
The sound of water reached her ears before she found the stream. She slid from the saddle and took a moment to let her legs adjust to being on the ground again. Then she led the mare toward the water.
Darkness shrouded the brush and trees along the stream’s bank. A shiver of concern slid up her spine, but Delsie squelched it with the knowledge that she had Myles’s gun in its holster on her saddle.
“Everything’s going to be fine,” she murmured as she let the mare drink its fill from the stream. Once the horse had finished, she looped the reins, more by feel than sight, around a nearby branch. Thirsty, too, she knelt beside the gurgling water and scooped some into her hand to drink. When her immediate thirst had been satisfied, she set the canteen Myles had given her into the water to fill it.
The stirring of the horse in the brush caused her to jump, then laugh at her own foolishness. “Hang on,” she called out to it. “I’m almost done.”
Sticking her finger into the canteen, she determined she had enough water. Delsie climbed to her feet. The shadows had deepened even in the few minutes she’d been by the stream. Which tree had she tied the mare to?
“Here, girl. Where are you?” A knot of worry began to tighten her stomach and made her pulse trip faster in concern.
Hearing a noise ahead, she moved in that direction. Branches scraped at her face and arms until she finally stepped out from under their shelter. Where was her horse? The worry churned to full panic as Delsie scanned the trail. A movement jerked her attention to her right. In the faint light of the moon, she finally caught sight of the mare, moving at a trot in the opposite direction.
“Wait. Come back.” She dropped the canteen to the ground and hiked up her skirt in order to run. Her rapid footfalls matched her heartbeat as she raced after the horse. “Come back.”
The animal continued to move at a steady clip, indifferent to Delsie’s repeated cries and frantic sprint. Before long she coul
d no longer see the mare in front of her. She tripped over something in the semidarkness and stumbled to the ground. Her breath came in great heaves, made worse by the sobs she tried to hold back.
Anger, at the horse and herself, had her pounding her fist against the dirt with a choked cry. The loss of her mare was unthinkable. How would she ever reach Lillie now? She couldn’t purchase another animal. All her remaining money had been stowed in a knapsack on the saddle, along with Myles’s gun. Everything she’d owned and needed had just disappeared into the night.
Her frustration soon gave way to hopelessness and fear. She pulled herself into a sitting position and shivered. What was she to do now? She still had more than twenty miles to go to reach Lillie in Placerville and nothing but her own two feet to get her there. Had she come so far, and endured so much, only to be thwarted in this moment, nearly within sight of her goal?
You’re a strong woman, Delsie Radford. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.
Myles’s voice filled her head and heart and warmed her trembling body. He had never given up on her, not once. And neither had God.
Rising to her feet, she moved purposely back the way she’d come. While she no longer had her map, either, she knew they’d been heading more or less in a westerly direction all day. And that was the way she’d keep going.
Her foot struck something hard. Kneeling down, she realized she’d kicked the canteen. Not only would it give her needed water but it also oriented her in the darkness. This was where she’d veered off the trail to reach the stream. She whispered a prayer of gratitude and a petition for protection, then continued forward.
Once she located the trail, Delsie turned west and began walking as quickly as she could. It didn’t take her long to realize how cumbersome her long skirt was to moving on the ground instead of on a horse. Stopping, she sat down and tore several inches from the hem. The fabric, trail-worn as it was, ripped easily. Delsie tossed the strip of cloth away, hoisted her canteen again and took a few steps.
Much better.
She picked up her pace to make up for the few stolen minutes. The creaking of branches and the whoosh of wings overhead sounded louder than normal, making her clutch the canteen tightly to her chest like a shield. But she didn’t let the nocturnal noises slow her down.
