“All right. I’ll be with you every step of the way. But...one question?”
A tiny smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Yes?”
“Will your family hunt me down to string me up? Or will they wait until I bring you back?”
She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips, a touch gentle enough to start his blood boiling just as she pulled away. Now the smile reached her eyes. “They won’t be angry with you, just disappointed in me. I’ll deal with it when the time comes.”
He caught her face and pulled her back for another kiss. Not long, just a delicious tasting. Then he held her gaze. “We’ll handle it together. Come what may.”
Her shoulders relaxed as she let out a long breath, then nodded. “Let’s get moving then.”
HANNAH’S STOMACH HAD long passed empty by the time evening fell. Nathaniel must have heard the rumbling in her midsection, for he reached into his pack and pulled out a strip of jerky while the mare kept up a steady walk.
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Is this the last of it?” He’d doled out their midday portions, but she’d seen how little meat was left that morning. She wouldn’t put it past him to give her what was left and skip the meal himself.
He kept his eyes on the trail as he spoke. “I need to hunt, but I’m afraid if I use the rifle, I’ll alert the man to our presence.”
Itu’s captor may already have known where they were, which was probably why they hadn’t found him yet, but Nathaniel was wise not to make noise. If they found a decent-sized stream with fish, she could snag one or two for a meal. Or if they had enough time and some twine, she could set a snare. But that would require staying in one place longer than just the nighttime hours.
What else could she do to find a meal for them? This mountainous terrain didn’t have much more than trees and rocks.
And birds. Maybe they could bring down one or two with a well-aimed stone.
“Nathaniel. If we were able to get a couple of birds, would it be safe to build a fire to cook them?”
He was quiet for a long moment, and she almost turned again to read his thoughts. But at last he spoke. “It’s risky. How would we catch the birds?”
She glanced around at how the dusky light made the lanky lodge-tree pines look like a glaring army. Had she even heard a fowl in the past half hour? They’d have better chances during the midday hours. She exhaled a breath. Lord, bring us food. Or show me what we should do.
If they had to, this strip of jerky would suffice for their evening meal. Maybe in morning’s light, she could find berries or something else to hold them over. She divided the meat in half and handed a piece to him.
“Eat it, Hannah.” His deep voice rumbled in her ear, making her want to settle deeper into his hold. The more time she spent with this man, the deeper her love for him grew.
She turned her face so her cheek rested against his shoulder, her forehead leaning into the crook of his neck. “We both need sustenance. I’ll only eat this half after you finish that piece.”
The quick beat of his heart thumped in her ear. A steady drumming that eased her nerves. Helped calm the tempest in her chest. Together they would find Itu. They had to.
Lord, let us be in time.
NATHANIEL BARELY SLEPT that night. Not only because he wouldn’t chance sleeping a moment past first light, but this night felt so much colder than the last. Probably because of the mountain they’d been steadily climbing all afternoon.
It wouldn’t be right for him to share their only blanket with Hannah, not unless one of them was in danger of freezing to death. He’d already besmirched her reputation with this journey. He wouldn’t put her in a position where their closeness might actually lead to impropriety. He loved her too much to chance anything between them, and he had his weaknesses just like every other man.
Especially where Hannah was concerned.
When there was just enough light to see his hand outstretched before him, Nathaniel rose and crept away as quietly as he could. Surely there were some kind of berries or edible plants on this tree-covered mountain. They needed something, or they’d have to hunt in earnest.
He hiked downhill for a good ten minutes and was just about to turn back when a patch of open land appeared through the trees. Maybe he’d find something edible there. One of the Indian scouts with the cavalry had shown him some plants and berries his people thrived on. He wasn’t sure he could identify any of the plants by sight unless they had the same flowers blooming as he’d seen before, but the man’s words about the berries had stuck in his mind.
The trees cleared away to form a small grassy patch with tall weeds and light blue flowers scattered around the area. He didn’t recognize any as the plants the scout had shown him. Over on the far side, though...could those be chokecherries? It was hard to tell in the semi-darkness, but they were either chokecherries or black cherries, he’d bet his last dollar.
And either one sounded as good as a beefsteak just now.
He strode to the plant, which turned out to be several bushes growing close together. The berries had a reddish-tinge, which meant they were probably not quite ripe. But surely they were far enough along to eat, even if they were sour enough to pucker his cheeks.
He scratched a bit of bark off one of the branches and leaned closer to sniff. Definitely chokecherries. That unusual scent made them easy to distinguish.
Pulling a few berries off one of the clusters, he popped them in his mouth—the whole handful. If he was going to die of poison berries, he would die with a full stomach.
These wouldn’t kill him, though. Maybe just give him a belly ache if he ate too many under-ripe ones.
He sucked in a breath as the juices from the tart fruit touched his tasters. Woo-wee. But his gut let out a hungry growl, so he loaded another fist-full in his mouth.
Now to bring some back for Hannah. He pulled out his shirt tail and filled the cloth with the darkest berries he could find. They should probably ration them throughout the day.
When he made it back to camp, Hannah was already up and had the blanket tied behind the saddle. She eyed him with wide eyes as he approached, holding up his laden shirt.
He couldn’t help a grin. “I brought breakfast. And the noon meal, too. We’ll need to make them last so we don’t eat ourselves sick.”
She stared at the mass of reddish black berries in his arms. “Cherries?”
“Chokecherries. Have some.”
Those seemed to be the magic words, for she reached in and grasped a handful, then popped half of them into her mouth. Her way of eating was a little more graceful than his, but not too much. She was clearly as hungry as he’d been.
After gulping down several handfuls, she wiped her mouth with her hand. “Can we take them with us? We need to get going.” She spun and retrieved the leather he’d had the jerky wrapped in.
They both moved quickly, and in a couple minutes had the berries stored and Raven saddled. He let her climb up first, trying not to notice her slender ankles as her skirts pulled during the mounting. One day she would be his, Lord willing, but he’d do best not to tempt himself before then.
This woman would be an enticement impossible to resist if he wasn’t careful.
Chapter Twenty
Lord, where is Your plan in this?
~ Hannah
ANOTHER LONG DAY IN the saddle, and they still hadn’t caught up with Itu and her captor. It was as though the man knew they were there and stayed just out of their grasp.
They also hadn’t found clean drinking water since midmorning. Now, halfway through the afternoon, Hannah’s throat felt too dry to speak, and her eyes ached from watching the signs so closely. And maybe she’d missed the important clues. Maybe she’d lost all her skills when it came to tracking.
“I think he must know we’re back here, and he’s doing his level-best to stay a few steps ahead.” Nathaniel must have been reading her thoughts. And his words soothed the raw edges from her guilt. His arm
draped loosely around her helped too, as he pushed his mare into a faster walk down the grassy slope at the base of a mountain.
But even if her tracking skills weren’t at fault, the fact remained that Itu was probably getting worse with every hour they couldn’t reach her. Whoever had taken her was moving too fast to be giving her the care she needed. Hannah had seen traces of that bloody drainage again where the pair had slept for the night, and also in a couple other places where they must have stopped to rest.
“Where do you think he’s taking her?” She scanned the ground a little farther ahead, her eyes picking out the trail the man had taken through the grass. Tracking in these conditions was much easier than in the woods they’d been traveling through.
“I don’t know this country, but I suspect their people have a camp somewhere around here. I hope he’s taking her to a place where she can get help.”
It was the same thought she’d had more than once, and it clenched the knot in her middle just like it always did. “What will we do if we don’t catch them before they reach the others?”
Surely the people in the camp wouldn’t allow Nathaniel and her to ride in and help, just like that. Especially when they saw that part of the girl’s leg was missing. What if the Indians didn’t have the right remedies to help her?
“We’ll just have to catch him.” Nathaniel urged the mare into a trot as the ground leveled off into a valley. His arm around her tightened with the bouncy gait.
The man’s trail turned south down the length of the valley, tracking between the two mountains rising high on either side. A stand of evergreen trees clustered in the distance, and as they neared, the sound of running water gurgled back to them.
Hannah sat up straighter. “I think there’s a spring in those trees.” Her mouth seemed to go dryer at the mere sound.
Nathaniel guided the mare into the copse of woods and up to edge of a creek, just downstream from a small pool of water. Hannah jumped to the ground and moved to the clean water near the spring.
The icy liquid tasted like heaven as it moistened her parched throat. She needed a bath more than she wanted to consider, but it would have to wait. For now, just splashing the cold water on her face was enough to stir her senses to life.
“Come feel this, Nathaniel. It’s wonderful.” She raised another handful of water to her face, spreading the refreshment down to her neck. How dirty was she exactly?
Nathaniel hadn’t joined her yet, so she turned back to see what he was doing.
A hand clamped over her mouth. Another gripped around her middle, strapping her arms to her side.
She tried to scream. Tried to twist and see who was holding her. It couldn’t be Nathaniel, not with this painful grip. The hand over her mouth smelled like horse droppings, and tasted even worse. Was this Itu’s kidnapper?
Something flashed in front of her eyes, then a rawhide strap replaced the hand to gag her. It was jerked tight as someone tied it behind her. She fought to turn her head again, and finally succeeded as the vise holding her tight hauled her up.
She only caught a flash of several tawny figures before she was spun in the air, tossed like a sack of flour, then draped over a man’s shoulder. His arm still pinned her hands to her side, so she had no leverage to struggle. Her middle burned with the pressure of her body bent in half, and the sour smell of bear grease stung her nose.
Hanging there upside down, she struggled to pick out the voices humming around her. All male, and none of the sounds made sense. These must be friends of the man who’d taken Itu. Did that mean they were near his camp?
Had he sent these people back to kill her and Nathaniel?
Oh, God. Where’s Nathaniel? Don’t let them hurt him.
She could only see the lower half of men’s moccasined legs as they moved in a pack. Her stomach ached from trying to hold herself still so she didn’t bump her captor. Every part of her revolted from his touch. What would they do to her? Would she have a chance to see Itu? To explain what the girl needed?
God, help me. Was it worth her virtue—maybe even her life—to keep the child from death? She had to believe it was. At this point, there was no turning back.
The men walked for what felt like an hour. None of them rode horses that she could see, but she heard the occasional snort of an animal nearby. Maybe that was Raven? Surely if they had Nathaniel similarly bound, they were bringing him along, too.
He had to be alive still. The alternative was too awful to consider.
At last, the sounds of other voices drifted around them. Women, and a few high-pitched shouts from what must be children. She craned her neck and caught a glance of buckskin-clad figures and long black braids. But the ache in her entire body made it hard to lift herself enough to see more than a glimpse.
The sunlight was suddenly cut off as they entered a dim area. A lodge of some kind. She couldn’t see much on the ground, but then she was lifted high and flying through the air again.
She tensed as she landed on the hard ground with a thud that stole her breath. Her chest fought to draw air, and with the gag in her mouth, she could only breathe through her nose. She struggled onto her side, gasping as her body screamed for air.
A heavy moccasin struck her shoulder, pinning her to the ground. She could barely see, couldn’t think except for her desperate need for breath.
Then blessed air finally crept into her chest. She took in another mind-cleansing dose.
She could finally look around now, but the sight just above her almost stole her breath again. A massive Indian brave towered over her. It took everything in her not to shrink away from him. She couldn’t show these people her fear.
As least, not the full depths of terror threatening to spew up her throat.
Another brave appeared beside her, jerking her arms up to bind them. They were taking away her freedom, one leather strap at a time. At least her hands were being tied in front, so she could use them a little.
As soon as he finished and stepped away, she slid a glance sideways.
People strode in and out of the lodge, talking amongst themselves. Mostly men, but two women stood or knelt over something on the other side of the shelter. The people blocked her view of whatever they were working with.
Then one of the men pivoted and stepped away, giving her a clear view of a trouser clad leg. The same leg she’d ridden in front of for two days now.
Nathaniel.
He was lying so still, and she’d not heard a sound from him. Maybe he was gagged like she was. Maybe he wasn’t moving so he could lull his captors into thinking he wouldn’t fight them.
Surely they hadn’t hurt him.
Lord, keep him safe. Both of us. Help me to find a way to help Itu. Please don’t let this all be in vain.
Another Indian knelt by her feet, tossing up her skirts and tying her ankles tight together. Thankfully, her boots kept the leather from rubbing her skin the way the cords were rubbing her wrists.
She wanted to close her eyes tight and squeeze out the image of the braves standing guard around her. But she needed to keep her wits. Learn everything she could about these people so she could find a way to escape.
If they’d just take the gag off her mouth, she would try to tell these captors that she and Nathaniel had only come to help. And what of her bag of herbs? They’d been tied on the horse with the saddle bags. The Indians would surely go through their things. Would they recognize the importance of each satchel and bundle? Lord, don’t let these people toss the herbs in the fire.
At last, the hubbub died down as most of the people left the tent. Only two braves remained, one sitting cross-legged near her feet and the other perched near Nathaniel. Guards, no doubt.
The lodge was almost barren except for a pile of furs stacked at the edge. Was this reserved as a holding area for prisoners? Did they really have captives so often that they needed to devote an entire tent for them?
And what exactly were they holding her and Nathaniel for? Would they rec
eive a trial or at least be given a chance to speak? The longer she lay there, the more her mind churned with questions.
But that was better than wondering why Nathaniel still hadn’t moved. The fact that his hands and ankles were bound had to be good. That must mean he was alive and the Indians expected him to wake. But why hadn’t he? Even with an awful head injury, he should have awakened during the first hour. What could be wrong with him?
She couldn’t seem to focus her thoughts into steady prayer, just frantic pleas to God. Maybe reciting Scripture would help. She started with Psalm 23, but she’d said it so many times throughout her life, she no longer had to think about the words. Her mind simply recited each verse by rote.
So she switched to one of her favorite scriptures in James about being thankful for trials because they produced a host of good character traits, especially stronger faith. That verse was as pertinent to her situation as she could find. Lord, strengthen my faith through this. Surely You have a reason for bringing us this far only to be taken captive. Help me hear Your voice through every part of this ordeal.
The longer she lay there, the more her stomach growled. Surely her guard heard every rumble. But every time she glanced at the man, he was looking over her head, or glancing at the fire ring in the center of the lodge. Never looking at her. Did they ever plan to feed her? She and Nathaniel had only eaten berries that day, and merely a few strips of venison jerky the day before. Given the opportunity, she could eat an entire deer by herself. But of course she’d share with Nathaniel.
The buckskin flap covering the lodge’s entry jerked aside, and a man stepped in. He was tall and broad, more so than some of the other men. And his face held a fierceness worse than the darkest thundercloud.
For only a second, his gaze landed on Hannah, and it took everything in her not to shrink back from the intensity of his glare.
Could this be the man who had taken Itu? Who carried her on foot for two days, alluding them every step of the way?
This Healing Journey Page 15
