This Courageous Journey

by Misty M. Beller

  She inched her covers down from her face, clamping her jaw against the slap of icy cold.

  Daniel was by her side before she realized he’d moved. “Stay covered. What do you need?”

  She met his worried gaze, the shutters gone from those deep brown eyes. “I have to rise. We need to eat then get on the trail. I’m fine, Daniel. Really.” She must have given him quite a scare the night before.

  His hand settled on her shoulder. “I’ll get the food. Your mare is lame, so we’re not going anywhere today. Stay by the fire where you’ll be warm.”

  Gypsy? A memory flashed through her. Darkness, falling, icy cold. She’d not forgotten about the fall, but never had it occurred to her that Gypsy might be injured.

  She pushed the furs and blankets aside, ignoring the bite of wind that gusted against her. “Where is she?”

  “Noelle.” Daniel’s tone bit sharply, but she wasn’t a child in need of scolding. This grown woman had work to do. A faithful friend needing care.

  On her feet, she glanced around to get her bearings. Their camp tucked into a cluster of three lodge-pole pines, and about forty paces away, the two horses grazed. Or rather, pawed at the snow. Griz tucked himself against her side, a ready companion wherever she went.

  She started toward the horses. Daniel hovered so close, she half-expected him to grab her arm to stop her. But it was the snow that caught her up short. She had to lift her leg high to step over the drift where Daniel had cleared for their campsite.

  Her foot seemed to sink forever through the icy snow, and her hands grasped for something to keep her balance as she scrambled for purchase. At last, the ground supported her, but snow clung halfway up her thigh, wrapping around her buckskins like a frigid glove. At least the leathers didn’t let moisture seep in.

  She struggled through a step, pushing the thick snow ahead of her, even when she tried to lift her leg above the surface.

  “Noelle.” Daniel’s voice hung with frustration. “I’ve already taken care of the mare. She just needs time for the swelling to go down.”

  A shiver wracked her body, and she pulled her coat tighter around her. The cold seemed to attack from inside, weakening every part. With her next step, a bit of ice seeped inside her moccasin, searing her skin with a frost so bitter she sucked in a breath.

  Daniel’s solid hands closed around her upper arms. “Please, Noelle. Stay by the fire. There’s nothing you can do for the mare.”

  It was the fear in his tone that made her turn back. She must have frightened him thoroughly with her reaction to the fall the night before. The last thing she wanted was to be a burden to him.

  DANIEL EYED THE LADEN sky the next morning. He had to get Noelle to her brother. The place where she’d be safe.

  She was too exposed out here. There was too much he couldn’t protect her from. And by the looks of the heavy clouds, they’d be in for more weather.

  The mare still limped a little, so he couldn’t chance letting Noelle ride her. She could ride Pauper, and he’d fashion some snowshoes before they set out. They couldn’t afford to wait another day.

  Noelle protested against riding while he walked, but he wasn’t about to give in. Especially through the country they would be traversing.

  He’d lost some stamina from his battle with the lightning, and their pace was slower, but he made it through the morning hours.

  By midday he was a sweaty mess, even though Noelle’s shivering proved the temperatures hadn’t warmed any. They stopped partway up a mountain where no trees encumbered the majestic view. But the wind kept up brisk gusts as she readied the simple meal of roasted elk while he checked the mare’s swelling.

  “She’s about the same as this morning. The walking isn’t helping but doesn’t seem to be doing damage.” He patted the mare’s shoulder.

  “I’m thankful for that.” Noelle handed him his portion, then took her place beside him on the rock he’d cleared. Her shoulder brushed his, and she turned to him, a bit of surprise on her face. “Oh, you’re warm.”

  He shifted so she could scoot closer. “Too warm for this cold.” He could already feel the sweat freezing against his skin. Having her by his side could only help them both.

  She nestled in, and he tucked his hand at her waist. This felt so good. So right, sitting side by side, sharing a simple meal. The mountains spread out around them. Just now, all seemed worth it just to experience this moment of perfection.

  Too soon, they were back on the trail, and after two more weary hours, they finally crested the slope. He was panting from the climb, Gypsy hobbling behind him. Noelle and Pauper brought up the rear, mostly because it kept the pair from far outdistancing his slow pace.

  Most of him wanted to drop to the ground and rest as the land leveled off and began to dip away in a descent. But if he stopped, he may never begin again. So he forced one snowshoe forward, then the other. Step after weary step.

  “Daniel.”

  Noelle’s call seemed to grab at him, pulling him upright. Stilling him. Yet he didn’t have the strength to turn to her. “What?”

  “Let’s trade places.”

  He shook his head as he struggled to gather enough breath to ease his lungs. “I’m all right.” Then he gathered his strength and took another step forward.

  “Daniel.” Her voice buzzed with frustration, and the squeak of her saddle grew louder as she rode up alongside him. “Ride for a while. It’s only fair we trade off.”

  “I’m fine.” She was a hard woman to ignore, but he didn’t have the strength to say more than a couple words.

  “The walking will warm me.”

  That stopped him, and he turned to look at her. She huddled in her coat, and it looked like she might be shivering again. A far cry from his overheated condition. But he shook his head. “It’ll be worse if you get too hot. Sweating in this cold can bring on a fever.” Or worse. And he wouldn’t let her do it.

  “Then ride with me. I’ll be warmer with you behind me.”

  His body flashed back to the night before when he slept with her tucked in his arms to warm her. In truth, he’d not slept that much, and he’d stayed far more than warm. Having her so near had been a torturous pleasure.

  One he shouldn’t repeat. Yet, her face had gone pale, and she did appear to be shaking. He couldn’t let her get sick. Riding a short distance downhill wouldn’t be too much for the big bay gelding.

  After unstrapping his snowshoes and tying them on the mare’s pack, he climbed up behind Noelle. Thankfully, he’d built this saddle with a wider seat than most, so it accommodated the two of them without much discomfort.

  When he wrapped his arms around her, she sank against him as if they’d been riding this way for years. Which made him wonder, not for the first time, what she thought about the attraction that pulsed between them. Did she enjoy being in his arms as much as having her there seemed to make him feel whole?

  He’d told her of his ancestry, and that should have made her back away. She needed him as a guide, yes, but his disclosure should have formed a wall between them. Yet she’d not even acted surprised.

  What did she want from him? Did she think they could have something more after he delivered her to her brother? Surely not. Yet, a part of him was beginning to form a picture of what that could look like. A picture not too dissimilar to the life his parents had lived for those first six years.

  And that thought alone was enough to freeze all the tender feelings stirring inside him. For Noelle’s sake, he’d deliver her to her brother, then walk away.

  She’d be safer without him.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Baring my past is the greatest test of all.

  ~ Daniel

  Daniel managed to find a large creek to camp beside that evening. By the time he finished clearing a hole in the ice and letting the horses drink their fill, Noelle had nurtured a fire and now made a ring around it from the wet logs she’d gathered so the heat of the flames could dry the wood.

&
nbsp; “Horses are settled.” He dropped the stack of ropes beside their packs, then reached for the pot. “Griz wandered off to find his own supper. I’ll get water. Anything else you need?”

  “Nothing, thanks. I’ll try to make a stew for us tonight—or at least broth with meat in it. Something to warm us.”

  “Sounds good.” She clearly needed it more than he did, but warmth in his belly would be nice as darkness deepened the arctic chill around them.

  Once he brought the pot of water from the creek, he glanced around to see what else needed doing.

  “Sit and relax, Daniel. You must be exhausted.”

  His gaze found Noelle, kneeling by the fire as she cut chunks of meat into the pot.

  She gave him a soft smile and motioned toward a clear area on the ground. “You haven’t told me one of your stories in some time. Keep me company while the food heats.”

  His body seemed to go weak as he eyed the place she motioned, and he allowed himself to collapse into it. The fire was finally starting to put off enough heat, which was warming his frozen face. He let himself enjoy the sensation, then lifted his focus to Noelle. “A story?”

  She met his gaze. “Tell me about your parents. Do they still live in the mountains?” Her voice held that soft rhythmic cadence, taking away a bit of the sting from the memories her words stirred.

  He let his gaze slip back to the fire and watched the flames leap up to reach the top log. “Not anymore.”

  She didn’t respond, and the silence stretched. She was waiting for him to elaborate, he knew it. And he wanted to tell her. All of it. For the first time in his life, he wanted someone to know him. Every part—even about the incompetent boy who’d accidentally set fire to his father’s lodge.

  He wanted her to know how much he missed his mother. Every day. Even as a boy, when his father left him with the tribe for months at a time, it was his mother’s return he craved, although he knew she’d never come back. Those nights when silent tears streamed down his little face. He’d never let the others see, but he wanted Noelle to know.

  So, with his gaze on the leaping flames, he started with the truth that changed his life. “My mother died when I was five years old. I don’t remember much before then. What little I do recall is dim, like a dream. It always felt as though the life I live now began when I was five.”

  Noelle didn’t answer. He didn’t give her time as the words poured out of him like a waterfall. He told of that awful winter day his parents returned from a short journey to the nearby fort. His uncle had stayed with him—Nikataya, his father’s Indian half-brother. His parents returned, but they’d fought their way through a fierce snowfall, which sent his mother to bed with a fever. She never recovered, no matter how much he’d pleaded.

  He spoke of growing up the day his father closed their little cabin and moved them both to Nikataya’s camp. Except Pa stayed for only two days before setting out for a scouting trip. Looking back, Daniel was pretty sure his father had been mourning. But at the time, it felt as though he’d lost both parents within the space of a fortnight.

  No matter how much the women of the camp, his Aunt Nopi among them, tried to coddle him, nothing stopped the ache that twisted his insides until he longed for a physical pain to take away the agony within.

  When he turned ten, Pa began taking him on scouting and hunting excursions. It was then he realized just how inept he was. Even though he’d played and trained with the other youths in the village, nothing had prepared him for Pa’s exacting standards. The abilities the man possessed in hunting, tracking, and living in tandem with the land were admirable, yet Pa expected Daniel to be every bit as skilled. And Daniel couldn’t seem to stop his blunders.

  His story poured out as Noelle handed him a mug of stew, the darkness closing in around their campfire. She never interrupted. The few times he glanced her way, her face held deep concentration, twin furrows denting the skin between her brows. As if she really cared about what had happened to him.

  “The last time I saw my father, he and my uncle left for a short moose hunt. They never came back, so we followed their tracks as far as the river. Spring thaw had just begun, so we presumed the water swallowed them, as it has others.” And that, in many ways, had been the end of his former life.

  “How long ago was that?”

  He raised his gaze to meet her soft-spoken words. “Ten years. After that, I rarely went back to Nikataya’s camp. I visit every so often, but I prefer to work alone.”

  She held his gaze, a world of emotions shimmering in her eyes. “That’s quite a story. I understand much more about you now.”

  He looked away. That was why he’d told her, so she’d know him fully. Yet what had been his true motivation? Wanting to be known by anyone? Or by this particular woman?

  His body itched to move. To get away from the thoughts swirling in his mind. He pushed to his feet. “I’m going for more firewood.”

  He slipped into the darkness before she could stop him.

  NOELLE PUSHED TO HER feet, wrapping her coat tighter around herself. Her mind spun with all Daniel had said. So much of his actions—his nature—made sense now. She could see each of the influences that had formed him.

  His intense sense of honor. His privacy. His exacting standards for himself. Any time she praised him, he deflected the comment as though he didn’t believe her. Yet, deep inside, words of commendation were what he probably needed most. Someone to believe in him. He’d grown into such an honorable man, so skilled, so caring. How could she not love everything about him? It was high time she show him how she felt.

  For now, she needed to freshen up a bit at the creek. As cold as the water would be, it had been days since she’d cleaned up. It was a wonder Daniel could stand the stench of her.

  Heading the way he’d come when he gathered water earlier, she followed his tracks and the gentle bubbling sound of the water. Several sets of Daniel’s moccasin prints led to and from the hole he’d broken in the ice. At the water’s edge, she saw where hoof prints had tamped the snow into a flat layer. She slipped on the slick ice that had formed over the pressed snow and dropped to her knees on the bank. Thin ice had formed over the water where Daniel had cut. She cracked it easily and scooped icy liquid onto her face.

  A squeak slipped out as the frigid water slapped every one of her senses into wide alert. Cold. Her numb cheeks stung as if she’d pressed a hot iron to them.

  Quickly, she scrubbed her face, neck, and hands, but she couldn’t bring herself to uncover any more skin to apply this liquid torture. Shivers had taken over her body again, and she pulled her hood back in place, then rewrapped her hands.

  “Noelle?” Daniel’s call slipped through the trees around her. He must have returned to camp and found her missing.

  “I’m here.” She stood and twisted so her words would reach him, but the quick motion on the icy ground made her moccasins slip. Her right knee landed hard, her left foot slipping behind her.

  She braced herself on her hands and knee, holding herself perfectly still so she wouldn’t fall again on the slick ice.

  Then a searing burn inched its way up her left foot—the one that had slipped back behind her. She pulled her leg forward, and even in the darkness, she could see a line where her moccasin and legging were darker below than above. The burn rose up to that line, and she had to touch a hand to the leather before the truth finally soaked through her now-wet glove and into her brain.

  Her leg was soaked from the knee down—in this weather cold enough to freeze the fur off a bear.

  She had to get back to the fire. Crawling forward, she inched away from the icy, trodden snow. As soon as she reached the place unmarred, she pushed to her feet and stumbled forward. Her leg ached all the way to the bone now, as though the icy water were eating through skin and muscle.

  The moccasins and leggings had proved mostly waterproof so far, but perhaps a dunking was more than they could handle.

  She stumbled into the light of their
campfire, then dropped to the ground beside the fire.

  “What’s wrong?” Daniel was by her side in an instant.

  She gripped her aching leg. “I’m w-wet.” Her breath came in gasps as shivers took over.

  He reached for the bedrolls and wrapped a fur around her shoulders. “We have to get your wet things off before they freeze.” He knelt by her foot and started with the moccasin lacings. His fingers seemed to shake as much as she did, or maybe that was just her own shivering that blurred her vision.

  No matter how tight she pulled the fur around her, she couldn’t seem to stop her body’s convulsions.

  When Daniel pulled her shoe off, her foot looked white as sheep’s wool. Maybe it was the glare of the firelight that made her skin look waxy. She tried to wiggle her toes, but the searing pain all the way through her bone made it hard to even bend her ankle.

  He touched her foot. She waited for a pinching sensation or something, but she couldn’t feel anything except the fire in her leg.

  A violent shiver shook all the way through her body, which seemed to put an extra urgency in Daniel’s actions. He pulled out his knife and slit her legging just above the waterline near her knee. It was a wonder he didn’t draw blood with the way she trembled, but he’d surely had lots of experience with the blade.

  He wrapped her entire leg and foot in a wolfskin, then looked up and seemed to study her. “Let’s get something warm in you.”

  After pouring the last of the broth in a cup for her, he moved close and raised the tin to her mouth so she wouldn’t have to pull her hands out of the fur.

  The warm liquid scalded all the way down her throat, but it was a delicious burn. Still, she couldn’t help a grimace as she pressed her eyes shut and gulped in a breath. Then she let him tilt another sip into her mouth. This one wasn’t so bad—perhaps her mouth and throat had been numbed by the prior scorching.