The Lord’s strength that now flowed through Cathleen’s veins. It was a wonderful legacy from her mother. A legacy she wanted to share. With Reuben, if he’d let her come back.
For another long moment she sat there. Am I hearing You right, Lord? She pushed every thought out of her mind, focused on listening. No words impressed themselves on her, either audible or in her spirit. No bolt of lightning. Only relaxing peace.
Lord, if it’s Your will, let my brothers agree to allow me to stay.
After a few more minutes of relishing the peace, she pushed up from the rock and headed back toward the house. It seemed colder now than it had on her way out, as if she were experiencing the world around her more deeply. Her mouth hummed the final verses of “It Is Well,” and her heart sang along.
~ ~ ~
WHEN SHE STEPPED back into the kitchen, her brothers still sat around the table while Miriam worked at the sink, her hands in soapy water. Little William perched on his papa’s lap, chewing on a carved horse. No sign of Claire and the baby, so she must be putting the little one to bed.
All eyes turned to Cathleen at her entrance, but she ignored the expectant faces and took her seat.
Miriam stepped away from the sink. “I saved your plate, Cathy. Here you go.”
Cathleen accepted the dish as Miriam pulled the cloth covering from it, but she had no intention of eating.
Alex cleared his throat and looked at Bryan as if he was about to pick back up on the conversation she’d interrupted. “So there’s a chance we might have to wait in Fort Benton until the steam ships start running again.”
Bryan squinted into the distance, the usual sign he was calculating something. “If there’s one docked at the Fort, you might be able to get out of there at the end of March. Or early April, maybe. The only other way to get to the train in Dakota is overland, and you might as well wait for a boat than try to travel the mountains in the winter.”
The more they talked, the worse the trip sounded. Wait in Fort Benton for weeks or months, just for a boat? It’d be winter time again before they ever settled Dad’s affairs and made it back here with Mum.
She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. Both brothers turned to look at her.
“Fellows, I think I’ve made a decision.” Her mouth had gone dry, but she pressed on.
Bryan only raised a brow at her, but Alex leaned back in his chair and glared. “What?” The younger of her brothers certainly didn’t mind showing his thoughts.
She’d gone too far to turn back now, though. “I don’t think I should go with Alex. I’ve prayed about it, and feel like the right thing for me to do is stay here. To help Mrs. Scott. I’m sure Mum would appreciate me coming, but…” She glanced from one to the other, willing them to understand. “I just don’t have a peace about it.”
Silence stretched across the room. Even little William stopped his babbling and eyed her, still gumming the slobbery horse.
After a long moment, Bryan finally let out a long breath. “I guess I can’t say I’m surprised. Had a feeling all along you would decide this.”
She turned pleading eyes to her big brother. “It’s not that I don’t want to be with Mum. I do. It’s just that I’m needed more up on that mountain with Mrs. Scott.” She sank back in her chair. “I can’t explain it. I just feel…that’s where I should be right now.”
She looked to Alex. “Mum will be so glad to have you there. And as soon as you get back here with her, I’ll spend time with her here.”
Alex’s eyebrows drew low in a thick line. “Just how long do you plan to stay up there with that man and his mother?”
She shrugged, offering her brother a gentle smile. “Until God tells me I’m finished, I suppose.”
Alex looked over at Bryan. “I don’t know. What do you think?”
Bryan studied her with a piercing gaze, sharp and searching. She met it squarely.
Without looking away, he said, “I guess we can’t argue with God’s will.”
The relief that washed through her was more of a heavenly peace than anything. She could feel it bloom over her face. “Thank you.”
Alex let out a long-suffering sigh. “All right, but you better go up and check on her regularly while I’m gone.”
Cathleen turned to her younger brother. “I want to send a letter for Mum. I’ll have it for you before I leave in the morning.”
His brows rose high. “You’re going back up tomorrow? Not by yourself.”
She nodded. “As soon as I can gather supplies. Mrs. Scott needs me. And I know the way. I’ll just follow our tracks from today.”
~ ~ ~
REUBEN KEPT ONE ear tuned to the sounds within the cabin as he scraped a deer hide on the front porch. Mum’s snores just barely drifted over the sounds of his work as she slept in her chair. Today had been their first full day alone together. Without Cathleen.
He’d had great intentions of keeping Mum nearby while he worked most of the day, but the temperature dropped so cold, and her needs had been so steady, he’d ended up stuck inside the cabin except for the few times he’d stepped out to care for the animals. Now that she slept, he finally had a chance to make progress on his work.
A nicker sounded in the distance, pulling his attention to the barn. It didn’t sound like the noise had come from that direction. A second whinny sounded, this one definitely from his stock in the corral—one of the wagon horses most likely. North appeared in the cabin doorway, tail raised as he stared off into the distance. Then the first horse whinnied again. Definitely from the direction of the trail down the mountain.
North let out a bark and wagged his tail, then sprinted in the direction of the new horse. Had one of his stock escaped? Maybe their stallion? Or did they have a visitor? The whinny had sounded frantic, like the horse was running free. The sound of hoof beats in the snow soon became audible.
Reuben dropped his fur and jumped to his feet. After a peek inside at Mum’s sleeping form, he pulled the cabin door closed and settled the bar across the outside.
Once down the porch steps, he sprinted toward the barn. If one of their horses had gotten loose, he’d need rope and dried corn to catch the animal. But the sight of a prancing horse at the edge of the clearing stopped him in his tracks.
It wasn’t one of his stock, but the horse was painfully familiar. He’d seen it ride out of the clearing wearing that same saddle just yesterday morning.
Cathleen’s mare.
Fear gripped his chest as he took in the torn leathers dangling from its bridle. He stepped toward the chestnut, extending a hand and crooning to the animal. “Hey, girl. Watcha doin’ there?”
She froze as he approached, then lowered her head and blew hard at him. But he kept up the monologue and made sure the fear racing through his veins didn’t unsteady his movements. She let him approach.
What had happened to Cathleen? Had she and her brother been in an accident on their way down the mountain yesterday? The horse didn’t show signs of having worn the saddle and bridle all night. No snow or branches caught in the leather that would signal she’d fallen or lain in the snow.
But it was clear Cathleen needed help.
North ran beside him as he jogged the animal to the barn and quickly stripped the tack from her while she dove into the fresh hay in the extra stall. What was he going to do with Mum? Cathleen needed him urgently. Could even now be freezing to death in the snow, but he couldn’t leave his mother locked in the cabin. It might take hours or even a day to find Cathleen if she’d veered off the trail.
He’d have to hitch the sleigh and take Mum with him. There was no other choice.
Chapter Twenty-Three
IT TOOK A painfully long time to get the sleigh hitched and Mum loaded, along with a few supplies they might need. Blankets, ropes, some food and water. Of course, his guns and knife. His mind ran through the list as he climbed up beside Mum, wrapped in a buffalo skin, and snapped the reins hard to start the team. With North perched in
the back with the supplies, they looked like a family out for a drive to town. Except for the fear that pulsed through him.
He pushed the draft horses as hard as he dared over the icy hills. The tracks left by Cathleen’s horse that morning followed roughly the same prints from when she and Bryan had gone down the mountain the day before. For about the first hour, at least.
Then the recent tracks split off, climbing up a steeper section where large rocks poked through the snow. He slowed the team, peering ahead to gage whether he could actually fit the sleigh through the trees. The path didn’t look like an established trail. Was the ground safe for the horses? Maybe if they took it slow and kept to the prints left by Cathleen’s horse.
“Are you sure we’re going the right way, Quinn? I thought we would have been there by now.” Mum had been prattling on for a while now, nagging really. If only she would be lulled to sleep by the sleigh. But the icy bite of the cold was probably keeping her alert.
“Yes, Mum. We’re going the right way.” It didn’t matter that he had no idea where they were headed.
Every moment counted, and Mum’s nagging stretched his last nerve thin.
He wove the horses and sleigh through the trees, often having to depart from the tracks left by Cathleen’s horse for short periods while he found a way to get the sled through. If only he knew how much farther ahead she was, he might be able to leave the sleigh and trudge forward on foot.
They were skirting the edge of a mountain now, on an easy incline, but near a steep drop-off on their left. How had Cathleen gotten this far off the road? And where was Bryan’s horse? Had they lost the trail and slipped in the icy rocks? Maybe both people had gone over the cliff, along with Bryan’s gelding, leaving only Cathleen’s mare to signal help. The thought tightened the ball of dread in his gut.
Dear, God. No. The prayer rose from his chest before he realized it was there. He meant it, though. If it took God to find Cathleen and save her, he’d gladly involve the Almighty.
The slope they traveled was only about twenty feet wide now, with a sheer drop on the left and a steep, rocky incline on the right. He was able to pick a route for the sleigh through the trees, but would he be able to turn the rig around if they couldn’t get through?
What in the world had possessed the Donaghues to take this route?
“Cathleen!” His voice echoed over the chasm to his left.
“Where is that girl anyway?” Mum chattered on as if this weren’t a dire emergency. “I haven’t seen her all day.”
He ignored her, ears straining to hear over the creaking of the harness and the rustle of the sleigh runners in the snow.
“Cathleen!” he called again. Maybe she would be strong enough to answer. He could tie the horses and run ahead to find her.
But there was no response. Over and over he called. Not that it seemed to help. He ground his teeth against the slow plodding of the horses, but he had no choice but to continue their course.
After what felt like another hour, a faint noise answered his call.
He jerked the horses to a stop. “Cathleen!”
He froze, listening. Mum started to say something, but he pressed a hand to her arm and for once, she held her tongue.
There it was.
A soft noise. A whimper maybe. But its tone was high enough it could have come from a woman. Maybe that was wishful thinking, but his heart clamored in his throat.
He set the break and leaped from the sleigh and barely had the forethought to turn back and look his mum in the eye. “Stay in the sleigh, Mum. All right?”
She gave a look that he hoped was acquiescence.
He eyed the dog in the back of the sleigh. “North, stay.”
The animal stared back at him with steady, dark eyes. The dog would care for his mother.
Reuben tromped through the snow to tie the horses to a tree, then spun toward where he thought he’d heard the sound. The snow was virgin through here, with only the tracks from Cathleen’s horse breaking the white icy covering.
“Cathleen!” He charged through the stuff, following the prints but straining for the sound of her voice.
Up ahead, he saw a spot where the tracks veered dangerously close to the edge of the cliff. It looked like the snow had been churned there, with several long sliding marks. No. His pulse thundered through his ears, louder than his boots in the snow. His breath came in short spurts as he ran.
He reached the spot and dropped to his knees to look over the edge. His left knee landed on something sharp—a rock—and his movement pushed snowy powder over the ledge to float through the empty air below.
As he peered down, his mind strained to make sense of what his eyes took in. The cliff was steep, a vertical rock wall for hundreds of feet down before it leveled into another snowy slope. In a couple of places, outcroppings of rock jutted from the cliff face, covered by snow and an occasional scrawny juniper peeking out from the white.
The knot that had been growing in Reuben’s gut turned to a sick ball of dread. “Cathleen!” He screamed her name.
She had to be alive. Couldn’t be buried in a mangled heap in the snow so far below.
Something moved on one of the outcroppings about thirty feet down. The spot was just a tiny ledge really, with a juniper somehow struggling for life on its surface.
The tree shifted, and a noise drifted up from it. A moan.
His chest surged. Could it possibly be?
“Cathleen, don’t move.” Even as hope sprang inside him, fear threatened to strangle it when he made out her form. She was curled in a ball, but as she unfurled herself, one arm and both feet dangled perilously over the edge of the small ledge.
“Don’t move!” Any slight shift could make her slide off into a free fall. And who knew how strong the rock was that supported her tiny ledge? The whole outcropping could give way.
She shifted again, and his heart seized in this throat.
“Please, Cathleen! Don’t move. You’re about to slide off that ledge. Can you hear me?”
Long moments passed as his pulse thudded in his ears.
At last, a soft voice sounded. “Yes.” The word was almost groggy. Maybe muffled from the snow, or she might be just coming back to consciousness. How badly was she injured?
“Where are you hurt? Can you tell me without moving?” He had to know so he could figure out the best way to get her up.
Another pause. Excruciating.
“My arm. I think that’s all.”
Probably her head too, from the way her words slurred. If her arm was broken, though, she might not be able to tie a rope around her waist. Not tightly enough anyway. And he couldn’t risk trying to pull her up, only to have the rope come loose. For a torturous moment, images of the possible outcome filled his mind. Her wide eyes growing smaller as she fell to her death. Snowflakes piling on top of her, unaware of the treasure they hid at the bottom of the cliff.
Oh, God, no. The picture seared in his mind, and he pressed his eyes shut against it. God, you have to keep her safe. Please. For Cathleen.
He opened his eyes again, forcing his mind to focus. “Cathy. I’m going to the sleigh to get a rope. I’ll be right back. Stay there. All right? Don’t move even an inch.”
“All right.” These words were a little stronger, like she spoke them through gritted teeth. Her arm had to be broken.
He sprinted to the sleigh, the distance seeming a little shorter than the first time he traversed it.
“What’s wrong, dear?” Mum’s slow cadence buzzed in the back of Reuben’s mind as he scrambled to gather all the rope he’d brought.
“Nothing, Mum. Just stay put.”
With the cord slung over his shoulder, he raced back to the spot above where Cathleen perched on the cliff face. There was a good stout pine about ten feet from the edge, and his gloved hands fumbled to tie the rope around it in a strong knot. He finally jerked the buckskins off his hands, but his fingers still shook, taking precious extra seconds to secure the
rope. He still had another section of cord, but he tossed it aside in case he needed it later.
Crawling back to the edge with the secured rope in his hands, he peered over. Cathleen was exactly where he’d last seen her, and the wash of relief that flowed through him almost leaked the strength from his muscles. Thank you, God.
“Cathleen. I’m going to lower this rope down to you. Do you think you can tie it around your waist?”
For a moment, there was silence from below. Then the slightest bit of movement, although she still lay curled in a ball.
And then her weak voice sounded. “I can try. I can’t move my left arm, but maybe with the other.”
Her left was broken then. It could be worse, but he couldn’t count on her being able to tie a secure knot with only one hand. And if she moved around too much, she could slide right off the ledge.
He’d have to go down and get her. But how? He turned and scanned his supplies. Two ropes. A good stout tree. He had the horses to help, but no one else to guide them if he lowered himself down to help Cathleen.
Could Mum play a part? She might be able to lead a horse, but she was still so unsteady on her feet. Even if he could get her to follow his direction, if she fell in the thick snow, she could easily be trampled by one of those huge draft hooves. And that would put Cathleen at risk, too.
No, he had to make this work alone. Maybe if he secured a rope around himself and the other end around the tree, he could lower himself down and use the other cord to lever Cathleen up.
He peered down again at the cliff face that separated him from her. It was mostly vertical, but had a tiny bit of slope, and some crags that he could use to climb back up. This could work.
As long as the ledge that held her could support them both.
The Lady and the Mountain Call (Mountain Dreams Series Book 5) Page 18
