But if she let him die, would God forgive her? Would Chas forgive her if she let him live?
And whether Hank ended up dead or alive, she knew O’Rourke would kill her once she was no use to him anymore.
Chapter Twenty
Bitter wind cut through Chas’s coat and all the layers he wore, but his soul felt frozen from more than the cold weather. If they didn’t rescue Danna—if she died—he would be responsible. He’d hurt her by not standing up for her. Then he’d left. And she’d gone after Hank Lewis’s gang alone.
He chafed at the delay, but the storm had worsened, and Creighton had insisted their party stop until the blizzard waned or morning light, whichever came first.
The torches they’d lit upon nightfall had been used to light a large campfire, and the horses staked in a tight group not far away. Creighton’s men, along with the stablehand and the teen girl, had huddled under whatever blankets or bedrolls they could find, and dozed off.
But Chas couldn’t sleep. He was too worried for Danna, sick with the desire to reverse time and change the events leading up to this moment. He had an awful feeling something was wrong, that Danna had been overtaken by Lewis or O’Rourke, or both. And he was stuck here, waiting for morning.
Sitting so near the fire reminded him of sharing another fire with Danna, and how she’d trusted him with her past, with feelings she hadn’t even shared with her first husband. And he’d thrown that trust in her face when she needed him most.
He loved her. And he’d failed her.
“So you’re married to my sister.”
The quiet statement shook Chas from his despondent musings. He hadn’t realized the other man was still awake, but with a shift of his head, he saw Rob Creighton’s eyes shining in the light from the campfire, though the man didn’t look at him directly.
Chas didn’t know what information the man was fishing for. So he went with a simple answer. “Yes. For a few days.”
“She’s a special woman.”
No argument there. “She is.”
“And a lot to handle.”
Chas couldn’t contain a rueful quirk of his lips. “I don’t think there is any such thing as ‘handling’ your sister. She makes her own way.”
“You’re probably right.” Creighton shifted under his horse blanket. “Is that why she went off after this gang alone?”
Chas’s shame made him unable to look at the other man. “I’m not good with women. I was heading to Cheyenne while she was going after Hank Lewis’s men.”
“I ain’t real good with them myself. She tell you I was the reason she left home?”
Chas nodded, but the words didn’t make him feel any better.
“I didn’t know what to do with a kid sister. It wasn’t that I didn’t want her around. She was a pretty good kid. Hardheaded, but then so am I. I didn’t know nothin’ about raising a girl.”
Creighton’s voice grew softer as he got nostalgic. “She scared the life out of me when she went off into the mountains by herself. I knew what could happen to a grown man alone, and she was just a girl. And then she did get hurt. It terrified me. But I never would have sent her away.”
Chas had guessed as much after reading Fred Carpenter’s journal entries. Creighton went on talking.
“Fred loved her so much. Even then. I remember him telling me he wanted to marry her. I lost my temper and told him he could have her and good luck. She was a handful at sixteen. I couldn’t imagine what she’d do at eighteen.
“Then, the next morning, she just marches out of her room—as much as she could with a broken leg—and announces she’s ready to go marry Fred—right then.” He shook his head, a sad smile on his lips. “I had a time convincing her to wait a couple of weeks while her leg healed. She was determined. Never did know what the rush was.”
“She overheard you and her first husband talking the night you rescued her. She took it to mean you didn’t want her around anymore.”
“She tell you that?”
Chas nodded and the other man was silent for a long time. “Things weren’t the same after she married Fred. Didn’t see her much at all, and then they moved away. I stayed away because she didn’t seem to want me around. It makes sense now, if she thought I wanted to get rid of her.
“Fred wrote once a month and kept me up-to-date on how she was doing. But he never said she asked about me.”
It was obvious the man cared about Danna, even if he didn’t know how to show it. Chas had a strong urge to give him some kind of comfort.
“One thing I know about your sister, is that she hides the most important things close to her heart. She misses you. I’m sure of it.”
Rob Creighton stared into the fire. “I hope you’re right. I feel like I’ve lost too much time with her already.”
“Well, let’s find her and you can tell her.”
Creighton grunted in response, but Chas was only half joking. The waiting was killing him. His feeling that Danna was in danger intensified by the minute. But the snow continued falling, and he knew he wouldn’t convince the others to leave until it let up.
His inner turmoil was compounded by Creighton’s presence. On one hand, he was grateful the man was here to help him find and rescue Danna. On the other, Rob’s presence meant that Danna had someone to take her in once all this craziness was over. If the town wouldn’t return her badge, it sure sounded like her brother wanted her to come back to the ranch with him.
Which would be great for her, once Chas got the annulment and they’d gone their separate ways.
So why did the thought leave him empty inside?
Danna shifted on the frozen ground, brought her knees up in front of her as she tried to conserve her body heat in any way possible. Her hands had been tied again, this time behind her back. Around a tree. Tightly.
She was going to freeze to death if she couldn’t get loose.
Hank Lewis’s wound had been deep, and with her every move being scrutinized by the outlaw O’Rourke had left behind, it had been nearly impossible to snitch anything that might help her escape.
But she’d done it. She had a small knife slipped up her sleeve, and O’Rourke hadn’t found it when he’d brought her out here—well away from the cave—and tied her up, leaving her to freeze.
She was surprised he hadn’t just shot her, now that his purpose for her had been fulfilled. But whatever had made him tie her up—she thought it was God’s hand—was enough for now. She was alive and she’d get out of here.
She’d done her best to save Hank Lewis’s life, but there was no guarantee that he’d live. Not in the crude surroundings—a cave filled with empty food tins and some trash. Even Doc, in his sterile environment, would be hard-pressed to save the man.
But she’d done her best.
And she’d spotted a flash of gold under some blankets piled on a crate in the rear of the cave. She’d bet anything it was the stolen money from the bank.
If she could get out of this pickle—alive—she had a chance of bringing back Castlerock’s gold. Not that she expected it to get her her job back, but at least she’d have done her duty.
Only problem was, by her head count, there was another outlaw out there somewhere. After the robbery, there had been four sets of tracks, but one man—the kid—had been injured. So that was probably three men on horses and one horse with no rider. That accounted for Jed, Hank Lewis, Earl Wilson. O’Rourke had gone back to the cave. But what about the fourth man who’d been involved in the bank robbery? Where was he?
Hours later, Danna hadn’t managed to free the knife from her shirtsleeve, no matter what she tried.
Settled in a small dip at the base of the tree, snow had been piling up against her left side, providing insulation against the colder night air, but it wasn’t enough.
She was getting sleepy.
She knew better. How many times had Fred told her that, once a person dozed off, hypothermia would set in and then they were a goner? Probably dozens.
Even the pani
c building in her throat didn’t seem so important anymore.
She was going to fail. She was going to die. She didn’t want to, not with all the unfinished business between her and Chas, and not without bringing to justice the man or men who’d killed Fred. But it looked like her time was almost up.
It was a shame she’d rushed out of town alone. And been so careless that she’d allowed herself to get captured.
She hoped Chas remembered her with less pain than he remembered Julia. She didn’t want him carrying around another load of guilt for something that wasn’t his fault.
She wished she could see him one more time. If she saw him, she’d tell him she loved him. She’d never told Fred, and even though her first love felt more like a comfortable friendship, she regretted that Fred hadn’t known before he died.
She also regretted that no one had ever told her the same. All these years, she’d thought she didn’t need the softer things in life, didn’t need love. But she’d been wrong.
She wanted it.
And if by some miracle she got out of this mess, she was going to find it. Even if she had to make herself into the most ladylike woman in the West. Wear dresses. Learn to read.
She might not have all her toes by then, but she’d make do. Danna kicked both feet against the ground in turn to keep the blood flowing, keep them from going numb. It wasn’t working.
She would try one more time. She bent her wrist to a nearly impossible angle, biting back on the cry of pain that wanted to slip past her lips. There! Somehow, she’d managed to wedge the knife into her palm. Now if she could just angle it this way…
The tip of the knife slipped off the frozen rope and she almost dropped it. Her numb fingers weren’t working right. The ties were so tight that her circulation was nearly cut off—she couldn’t operate the knife like she needed to.
She wouldn’t give up!
Knowing this might be her last chance to do something, she began to sing. Loudly. All the hymns she could remember. The effort it took to sing sent blood pumping through her veins and made her feel more awake.
And she remembered the last time she’d been trapped on a mountain, this mountain. Back then, she’d believed the words to the hymns. Believed God was faithful, that He would take care of her. Maybe it had been naive. Had she been blind in her faith?
Was Chas right, thinking God didn’t really care about individuals?
Just like she couldn’t give up, she couldn’t believe that, either.
Hadn’t He kept her from freezing on this mountain once before? He’d brought Rob to her in time, and her leg had healed from the fracture. She hadn’t suffered any lasting effects from her near-disaster getting tossed from her horse. And marrying Fred had been a blessing in her life, even if she hadn’t seen it as such in the beginning. Fred had taught her about being a lawman, about being a wife, even though she hadn’t been a conventional one.
But what about all of the bad things that had happened to her lately? Fred’s death, getting fired from her job?
All of a sudden, a sharp whine broke through the silent blackness and shook her from her thoughts. Danna sang louder, determined not to get eaten by a wolf while she was out here, either.
The sound of a branch breaking nearby had her craning her neck to try and see where the intruder was coming from. A shape took form, a shadow darker than all the others. It grew bigger as it neared, and she prepared to kick out with her feet.
It came even nearer, and the whine turned into a yelping bark. One she recognized.
“Wrong Tree?” Her incredulous question must not have offended the dog, because it came nearer, right up next to Danna, and snuggled into her side, offering the warmth of another body, albeit a furry one.
“Good boy,” she cooed, and for the first time since Fred had brought the mutt home, she meant it. “You’re so good! How did you find me? Did you bring someone with you?”
The dog whined again, a pitiful sound.
And the hope that had sprouted when she’d recognized the dog waned as precious minutes ticked by.
“Okay,” she said, when it was obvious no one else was coming to her rescue. “Well, I guess you’re better than nothing.”
The dog barked, as if he agreed with her. He moved away, the loss of warmth instantaneous, then turned back a few feet away, as if beckoning her to follow.
“I can’t, boy. I’m stuck here.” She pulled against her bonds, shaking her head that she’d fallen so far as to talk to Fred’s dog.
Wrong Tree tipped his head, looking at her with a quizzical, lopsided doggy grin.
“Come on over here, boy,” she urged, shivering as another gust of wind sliced through her clothing and made her insides quake.
For once, the dog listened to her, scooting up real close to her midsection, all his weight leaned against her.
“What a good boy,” she cooed. “You’ll keep me alive.”
Thank you, Father.
She now had a speck of hope she could survive the night.
She’d never been more thankful for the smell of damp dog, but he was warm. She nuzzled her face into the ruff of fur on his neck. God, please don’t let him leave again.
The warmth covering her from chin to thigh shifted, and cold blasted through the layers of Danna’s clothing, jarring her into wakefulness.
The dog grunted and moved away, leaving only freezing air to take his place.
Had she fallen asleep? She’d been sawing against the frozen ropes binding her hands for what seemed like forever—hours, at least.
The first fingers of light showed slate-gray against the horizon. She’d survived the night. And it had stopped snowing.
She had to get away quickly. If O’Rourke returned and found her alive, he’d probably kill her.
She shifted the knife in her numb hands, trying for a better grip, straining to get even one coil of the rope to break.
A limb snapped behind her, cracking like a gunshot in the early morning stillness. Wrong Tree turned, hackles rising.
“Danna?”
Chapter Twenty-One
At first, Danna thought she must be imagining the voice—Chas’s voice. But the shock of heat when his hands touched hers, as he untied her, was real.
And then she was free. Time seemed to suspend itself as she stared into his impossibly blue eyes, and all she could think was, He came for me!
“What—how did you find me?” she asked in a hushed voice, afraid to disturb the silence that surrounded them. Afraid he was an apparition she’d conjured with the strength of her wish to see him again.
Chas nodded to the side, toward a figure that hadn’t even registered while she was fixated on Chas.
“Rob?”
Chas watched Danna’s brother rush to her and swing her up in a hug, and still he couldn’t make his feet move.
Danna was alive.
She hadn’t been hurt or killed.
The rush of relief left him light-headed.
Danna’s dog jumped and danced around the pair still embracing, and then he started to bark. Both Danna and Rob shushed him.
Danna nodded over her shoulder. “O’Rourke has set up a camp just there.” The pair of them started moving toward Chas. Rob held her tightly to his side, supporting her weight, and Chas knew a sudden fear that maybe she was hurt. He turned and hustled to where he and Rob had left their horses, just over the top of the hill.
He pulled his bedroll from where it was tied behind the saddle, knowing Danna would need its warmth if she’d been out in the cold for any length of time. He was still facing his horse, trying to school his rioting emotions into submission, when he sensed her approach.
“I can’t believe you came.” The soft-spoken words from behind him threatened his composure again, and he spun to face her, needing to see for himself she was all right.
Tears sparkled in her brown eyes, and it prompted him to swing the blanket around her shoulders and clasp her to his chest. One hand clung to her waist while the o
ther cupped the back of her head, his fingers threading through her hair.
“I never left,” he admitted.
In his arms, she felt fragile, but he knew it was an illusion. She was strong and capable. She’d managed to nearly get herself loose and was on her way out of there, all without help. She didn’t need him or anyone else.
So what was he going to do, now that he knew he needed her?
“We should head out and meet the others,” Rob said. Chas looked up to find the other man already mounted up, with a small smile quirking the corners of his lips. Rob’s assessing gaze made Chas uncomfortable, and he shifted away from Danna.
Her head came up. “Others?” She wiped her face with the corner of the blanket and stepped away from Chas. The emptiness of not having her in his arms had him sliding into his own saddle, lest she see his emotions written on his face.
Rob answered her, speaking quietly. “Yeah, there’s ten of us crazy enough to come out here after you. We got halfway up the mountain last night and had to stop because of the snow. Your husband refused to wait until morning, though. He dragged me away from a warm fire and my bedroll to get to you sooner.”
Danna’s upturned face revealed her surprise, and was that joy in her eyes? When Chas reached for her, she came easily into his arms and used his boot in the stirrup to boost herself into the saddle in front of him.
Chas wrapped his arms around her, unable to keep from noticing how perfectly she fit there. He didn’t ever want to let her go. Careful not to bump her, he guided his horse to follow Creighton’s down the same way they’d come. Danna’s dog followed a little off to the side, silent, but with his tongue lolling out of his mouth.
“Men from town?” Danna murmured over her shoulder, giving Chas a good look at her profile. She didn’t have a single bruise on her face.
“I’m afraid not. Your brother brought several hands from his ranch. And your stablehand friend brought a little gal who happened to know where this cave was located—Katy.”
He read her disappointment in the tightening of her lips before she nodded and turned her face forward again. Until he mentioned Katy, and then her face lit up. “You found her?”
Marrying Miss Marshal Page 19
