by Linda Ford
But if she had ridden away—why would she do that?
He went back to where the horses had turned away from the river, hoping and praying for something to guide him. There was nothing but tracks that told him only that two riders had passed this way. No indication of who those riders might be. He stayed hunkered down studying the ground as if he waited long enough, the earth itself would rise up and provide the answers he needed.
“Oh God,” he groaned. “Show me where she is.”
He waited. Had he expected an audible voice to answer him? Of course not. With a sigh that came from deep inside, he pushed upright, prepared to hurry away. Instead, he stared. A few threads of material clung to the thorny gooseberry bush in front of him. He plucked them free. Blue. He pulled out the bit of fabric he had earlier taken from the bushes near the camp and held them side by side. An exact match. She had been this way. Was perhaps mounted on one of those horses.
Why? Or where she meant to go were questions he would ask her as soon as he caught up to her.
He’d need a horse and he headed back to the camp, trotting through the bushes, paying no attention to the thorns that caught at his clothes or the low branches that slapped at his head. By the time he reached the camp, air wheezed in and out of his lungs.
“Is she here?” he squeaked.
Mary Mae looked ready to cry. “I thought you went to get her.”
“I couldn’t find her.”
Buck rode up. “Why aren’t these wagons moving?”
The women all spoke at once.
Luke held up a hand to silence them. “Donna Grace is missing.”
Buck blinked and looked around the circle of people. “Missing? Did you look in the wagons?”
“We looked everywhere. I tracked her through the bushes. It looks like she might had ridden away on a horse.”
“A horse?” Mary Mae could barely choke out the words and Judith grabbed Luke’s arm.
“Are you sure?”
“I need a horse to follow her.” He reached into the back of the Russell wagon and took his gunbelt. He strapped it on and strode toward the river.
Buck turned to the reverend and Warren. “You two see about getting these wagons across.” Then he rode after Luke. “Why would she ride away?”
“I don’t know, but I intend to find out.”
“Get on and I’ll take you over.”
Luke swung up behind the other man and they splashed across the river.
The freighters stood in a knot, yelling and waving their arms. Luke dropped to the ground and followed Buck to the group.
“What’s going on here?” Buck demanded.
“My horse is missing. Someone has stolen her.”
Luke recognized the speaker as one of the men who had joined the wagon train. The shorter, swarthier one.
“Where’s your friend?” Luke demanded.
“I not know.” The man’s words were heavily accented.
“Did he take the missing horse?” Each word came out harsh and deep. He had not liked that second man from the beginning, and if he were somehow connected with Donna Grace’s disappearance…
He pressed his hand to the sidearm.
The man nodded. “I tell him not good idea. He not listen.”
“What was he planning to do?” Buck’s sharp tone informed the man of his anger.
The man hung his head.
Buck leaned from his saddle and grabbed the man by his collar. “If you know something you better tell us.”
“He say he want justice.” The man’s voice grew high and thin.
"What do you mean by that?
“Señor Garcia—”
“Garcia! I know that name.” He tried to remember where he’d heard it.
“Sí. He know Miss Clark too.”
Luke and Buck looked at each other to see if either of them understood. Seems they didn’t.
Luke turned back to the quivering man. “Miss Clark or Mrs. Russell?”
“My apologies. I mean Señora Russell.”
Luke’s insides turned to steel and he leaned close to the man to give him a hard look, full of threat and promise. “It’s time you started making sense.”
“Sí. I try. He say he know her from Santa Fe. Say he hate her grandfather.”
Luke sat upright. Things were beginning to add up. “Donna Grace’s best friend was a girl named Rosa Garcia.”
“Sí. That what he say.”
“Her grandfather did not approve of the friendship.”
“Sí. He say that too.”
Luke leaned forward again. “My wife is missing. Two horses are missing. And Señor Garcia is missing. If you know what’s going on, you better tell us real quick.”
The man jerked off his wide brimmed hat and nodded vigorously. “I tell you all I know. He say the grandfather be willing to pay money to see his granddaughter safe.”
“Are you saying he kidnapped my wife and child for ransom?”
“He not say so, but, sí, I think that what he be doing.”
“I’m going after them.” He needed a horse. Gil led forward one that was saddled and handed Luke the reins. Without another word, Luke swung into the saddle and galloped back to the river. Buck yelled at him to wait, but he had no intention of wasting one more minute.
He crossed the river, unmindful of how much water his horse kicked up and skidded to the camp. “She’s been kidnapped,” he hollered as he jumped from the horse. “I’ll need some supplies.” The sun already dipped low in the sky and Señor Garcia and Donna Grace had several hours head start.
Buck and Gil rode up.
“What do you plan to do?” Buck demanded.
“Find them. No need for you to delay on our account.” He threw food into a saddle bag as he talked. “We’ll catch up.”
“You might be riding into a trap,” Buck warned.
“I’ll be careful.” He looked about for anything else he might need. “Baby things.”
“I’ll get them.” Mary Mae jumped into the back of the wagon and seconds later, re-emerged with a little bundle.
“I’m going with you,” Gil said. “Can I get supplies here?”
Judith filled his saddle bag with food.
Luke mounted up. “Daylight is wasting.”
Mary Mae grabbed his knee. “Bring her back safely.”
“I will.” He kicked his horse into a gallop.
“We will,” Gil said, following on his heels.
They kept up the pace until they reached the spot where Garcia had angled away from the river then had to slow to follow the trail. It should have been easy but Garcia obviously thought he might be followed and left a trail that crisscrossed itself and disappeared on hard ground. Luke and Gil had to watch carefully to know which way to go.
As the light faded, they both slipped from their horses in order to see the ground better.
After several minutes of straining to find the trail, Gil stood up. “It’s too dark to see. We’ll have to wait until morning.”
“And leave her alone with that man?” He could barely push the words past the tightness in his throat.
“If you keep going you could head in the wrong direction and miss her completely. Don’t think you want that.”
Gil’s calm voice did nothing to ease the tension that held Luke in a vise-like grip.
Luke squinted into the distance. “I don’t see any evidence of a campfire.”
“Garcia is too smart to light one.”
“Gets cold at night.” Luke knew it was useless to think of striding across the prairie hoping to run into them, but that’s exactly what he wanted to do.
“Your wife is strong and independent. She will do well.”
“I expect you mean to be encouraging, but I’m sorry to say, you failed.”
Gil chuckled quietly. “I suggest we also forego a fire tonight. Let’s have some of those victuals the women sent and get a good sleep so we’re fresh in the morning. A tired man tends to make mistakes. We ne
ed the horses ready too.” They unsaddled in the thin light of the moon and led the horses to a puddle of water. Then hobbled them so they could graze.
Gil chose a spot on a slight rise that allowed them to see some distance and they tossed their saddles to the ground. Luke stood and stared, turned and stared some more until he had gone full circle. No sign of a fire to indicate where Garcia might be. He forced his legs to fold and lowered himself to the ground. He pulled some food from his saddle bag but couldn’t have said what he ate.
Gil spread his bedroll and stretched out.
Luke did the same but he couldn’t close his eyes. Every few minutes, he sat up with a jolt and stared into the distance. Where are you, Donna Grace? His insides twisted cruelly to think of her alone with Garcia and what the man might do.
“Settle down, man,” Gil murmured.
Luke tried but every muscle in his body twitched and his nerves strummed like over-tight guitar strings. The night would be long, lonely and filled with worry about Donna Grace and the baby.
The ground stuck mocking knuckles into his body in several places and he sat up. “This is too much like last time.” He blurted out the words.
“Last time?” Gil sounded mildly interested.
“Three and a half years ago the girl I meant to marry was murdered. I didn’t trust the men who did it, and yet I did nothing to protect Ellen.”
Gil sat up and looked at Luke. The moon allowed Luke to see his movements, but not his features as he spoke. “If Garcia hopes to get money from Donna Grace’s grandfather, he isn’t going to harm her.”
“Depends what sort of harm you are thinking of. But that’s not what I mean. There was something about Garcia I didn’t like. I noticed him watching the women and snooping around wagons. I should have run him off before he could do something evil.”
“Can’t go running off every shifty-eyed man you run into, especially along the Santa Fe Trail. I’ve seen more than my fair share of them.” He lay back down. “First time one of them has kidnapped a woman. Now get some rest.”
Luke lay back prepared for an uncomfortable night both physically and mentally. His brain played every sort of possibility for what Donna Grace might be enduring. And at the same time, left Luke struggling to save her. His frustration mounted until he could hardly breathe.
The words of the hymn he sang so often for Donna Grace and Elena filled his mind. Frail children of dust, and feeble as frail, in thee do we trust, nor find thee to fail.
He hadn’t asked God for much of anything since Ellen’s murder. It seemed kind of pointless when God hadn’t stopped those wicked men. In the last few weeks he had thought of God more and more as he and Donna Grace discussed their pasts and their families. He had no doubt that his ma and pa would have prayed faithfully for him since he left. But they weren’t here nor were they aware of Donna Grace’s dire need. That left Luke to pray for her. Did he have the faith to trust God to help him find them and keep her safe until he did?
Bible verses his ma had him memorize came to him. Ma had insisted he always know where each verse was found in the Bible. A smile flickered over his face at the memory. Deuteronomy 31, verse 6: And the LORD, he it is that doth go before thee; he will be with thee, he will not fail thee, neither forsake thee: fear not, neither be dismayed. He repeated the words over and over in his head.
Now was a good time to choose to trust God. Luke’s breathing eased as he acknowledged that God was far more powerful than himself, and right this very moment was with Donna Grace and the baby. Lord God, keep them safe and guide us to them.
Donna Grace jostled uncomfortably in the saddle. She wasn’t used to riding, and her muscles had begun to protest. At that moment, Elena refused to be patted into silence any longer and let out a wail.
“Shut that brat up,” Garcia growled.
Donna Grace choked back a protest at having her sweet daughter spoken of in such a fashion. To feed the baby with that cruel man riding so close filled her with dread. But she’d grown adept at nursing without exposing herself. She pulled the fabric of the sling up to her neck before she unbuttoned a few buttons and put the baby to her breast.
“No need to be modest on my account.” Garcia leaned toward Donna Grace with a leer on his face.
She pulled the sling tighter about her and stared straight ahead.
Garcia gave a mocking laugh that grated across Donna Grace’s already-tense nerves.
He crossed a rocky stretch of ground then turned back toward the south. She’d long since lost track of the many twists and turns he’d taken. She’d stopped asking where he was taking them. But she tried to pinpoint their location, trying always to keep centered to the river. But even that had grown futile as he crisscrossed streams. She had no way of knowing if it was the same one over and over or different ones and wondered if he was lost as well.
The baby finished nursing and slept. In an attempt to forget her present discomfort and fear, Donna Grace thought of her mama who had been such a strong woman to face grandfather’s disapproval of her marriage to a white trader, and yet remain polite and kind to the old man. Donna Grace had once asked her why she didn’t simply stop seeing grandfather. Mama had said, “Because I choose to obey God. He says we should honor our parents and so I do.”
“Why? Grandfather isn’t nice to you.”
“He loves me and feels I have disappointed him. But that isn’t what truly matters. I believe that God is faithful. He says, them that honor Him, He will honor. I long for His honor and approval.”
Donna Grace’s throat clogged with tears. Mama would be so disappointed in Donna Grace who had not had the same level of faith. She’d found it hard to trust when Grandfather was so critical.
Her spine straightened. God had not changed. She had. God’s promises were faithful and true. Donna Grace simply had to choose to trust in them just as her mama had. He shall call upon me, and I will answer him: I will be with him in trouble; I will deliver him, and honor him. The words were a Bible verse that Mama often quoted.
Donna Grace took in a deep breath. The first that truly filled her lungs since Garcia had made his presence known. God, I trust you to be with us and protect us and deliver us. Luke would be looking for her by now. Guide him to us. She shuddered to think what Garcia would do if he saw Luke. It took a few moments before she got to the place where she chose to trust God to protect him. Be his shield and defender. The words of the hymn comforted her and she sang it over and over inside her head.
The sky went from blue to grey. Pink streaks colored it on one side. At least she was now certain what direction was west. She hoped Garcia planned to ride through the night otherwise she would be forced to make camp with him. A thought that made her insides brittle. No amount of trusting God would make the prospect pleasant or safe.
The ground was black, the sky gunmetal grey when Garcia stopped. “We’re here.” He swung from the saddle. “Get down.”
She struggled to dismount with the baby in her arms and her legs sore, but if Garcia noticed, he paid her no mind. Not that she wanted his help. The thought of him touching her made her skin crawl.
Her legs balked at holding her weight, but she steadied herself as Garcia led away the horses.
A slight hill faced her, blocking out the quickly darkening sky.
Garcia grunted as he removed the saddles and led away the horses. They must be near a stream of some sort as she could hear the animals drinking.
Slowly, she turned about, hoping, praying for a place to hide. If she moved silently he wouldn’t be able to see her. He had gone left, so her opportunity lay to the right. She slipped one foot forward and then another and another. She’d made perhaps ten feet when he grabbed her by the neck.
“There’s no point in you trying to get away. You got no place to go. Nope, Miss Clark, you belong right here with me until your grandfather pays to get you back.”
“My grandfather will exact justice.” She said it with absolute authority. Grandfather was not a
forgiving man.
“He’ll never catch up to me.”
She kept her opinion to herself because a bigger problem faced her. If he meant to get to Santa Fe, that required several days of hard riding. Did he think to make her ride with him or did he have in mind to leave her somewhere?
Neither prospect offered comfort.
He pushed her forward until they were right against the hill she’d faced a few minutes ago and reached around her to push on something. The darkness before her deepened, accompanied with a musty smell.
It was a house. Or something with a door.
He shoved her inside. “Make yourself comfortable.” The door slammed shut.
She spun about, one arm protectively around the baby. With the other hand she pawed at the door but found no handle. A hole indicated where one might have been. She poked a finger into it, but found nothing but rough wood. After a few minutes, she gave up and felt her way cautiously to her left, running her hands along the rough walls. Sod. This was some sort of soddie. She reached a corner and searched for any chink in the walls. Nothing. She moved onward, sliding a foot ahead of her to check for furniture or holes. Again she came to a corner. How far had she gone? She tried to estimate and guessed no more than six feet, eight at the most. She continued, coming to a third corner, and then a fourth and back to the door. It was a hovel of very small dimensions. She did not venture across the middle, fearful of what might be there. The interior was black as pitch. Even the roof offered no hint of light. She sank to the floor, her back to the earthen walls. How was she to take care of Elena in such darkness?
She strained for any sound beyond the walls of this place. Even sound did not penetrate.
Elena fussed and Donna Grace managed to feed her. The poor mite was soaked and couldn’t be left in such a state. She removed the wet diaper and tossed it aside. Fumbling in the dark, she found the edge of her petticoat and caught it between her teeth to tear at the fabric. Going by feel alone, she ripped out a section and tucked it between the baby’s legs.
“Poor little girl.”
At least she had the place to herself. Her heart rattled against her chest. Had Garcia left her here until he could contact Grandfather? She had a little canteen of water, but there was only a mouthful or two left, and she had no food. How long would they survive? Tears streamed from her eyes and she dashed them away.
