But then, her breath caught in her throat. A man stood beside the rock wall outside the cave. With the rain falling in such a thick curtain over the cave’s entrance, he was too blurry to make out more than a dark head and buckskins.
He must have just rounded the far bolder and come upon her horse. He didn't seem to have spotted her yet. Maybe with the rain running in his eyes and the darkness of the cave, he wouldn't see her at all. If she stayed perfectly still, would he pass on?
Of course not. No one would be up here on a leisurely stroll. He must've come looking for her. She reached for the rifle beside her.
But then, the man stepped nearer the cave, and she caught sight of his face.
Jean-Jacques.
A cry slipped out before she could stop herself. She threw the blanket back and scrambled to her feet, barely stooping in time to keep from bumping her head on the low ceiling.
He must have heard her, or seen her move, for he ducked through the cave opening. "Colette?"
As much as she should feign anger and send him away, she couldn't make herself do it. Her exhausted, weary, cold-numbed body longed for his protection. For his arms to come around her, to hold her and warm her and take away the nightmare that had become her life.
He opened his arms, and she stepped into them. No matter that they both had to bend under the low ceiling. No matter that water dripped off of him.
She pressed into his hold, and he held her tight, his strength wrapping around her, warming her. She breathed in the scent of him, the safety she'd always found in his arms. Tears stung her eyes and easily broke through her defenses.
"Shh." He rocked her, then shifted one arm as he eased down to sit on the stone floor. That way neither of them had to duck to keep from bumping against the ceiling.
He pulled her onto his lap and cradled her, wrapping both arms around her. She laid her head on his shoulder, no longer trying to stop the flow of tears. How had she ever thought herself strong enough to leave him behind?
After a few minutes, she managed to quench the flow, then lifted her head, pulling back enough so she could see his face. She swiped the moisture from her face and sniffed, doing her best to restore her voice to something like normal. He would have questions, and she had to decide how to answer them.
The worry in his eyes sent a new dose of strength through her. "I'm sorry." She had to get herself under control. After clearing her throat, she tried again. "How did you find me?"
His brow lowered. "Why did you leave? What happened? Was it those men camped near us?"
The earnest worry in his tone brought a fresh surge of heat to her eyes. He cared too much. How would she ever keep the truth from him? Should she tell him everything?
She couldn't.
But even as her mind made that choice, her mouth opened in a flood of truth. "I killed him. I did, and they want me to pay."
The shock on Jean-Jacques's face was everything she’d expected. It would morph to horror as soon as her words registered. Maybe telling him the truth had been best, for now he would leave of his own accord. She braced herself, pulling back as far as his hold would allow.
But the surprise on his features shifted to questions in his eyes. "What do you mean? Killed who? The man who murdered your husband?"
He would make her reveal all in detail. Even as her belly churned, she shook her head. She couldn't quite meet his gaze anymore. "I killed Raphael. My husband."
She should say more. Explain that she hadn't meant to strike him. But knowing Jean-Jacques, he might absolve her of the crime.
And no matter how innocent she might be in his mind, that wouldn't change the fact that Raphael's brothers would demand retribution. Better she make Jean-Jacques think her wicked so he would leave on his own.
"Tell me what happened, Colette. The whole story.” His voice had turned soft, almost drowned out by the rain splashing on the rocks outside. But she heard him, every word. And that gentle tone called to her. She made the mistake of glancing at his face, his earnest expression.
The moment his luminous eyes caught hers, she pulled her gaze away, but the damage had been done. The words formed on her lips even though she wasn't sure she wanted them to. "He would drink sometimes. It wasn't always like that, but after his father died.… I had just found out about the baby, and I was afraid." Memory of that fear washed through her, and she pressed her mouth shut against the weight on her chest. She really hadn't meant to strike Raphael, but her emotions had been such a jumble.
"You were afraid of him?" Jean-Jacques’s voice, so soft, called to her.
How could she explain the chaos of that night without making Raphael sound like an ogre? She pressed her eyes shut. "He wasn't usually violent. He just…when he started drinking, he became a different person. I never knew how he would be. And when he came at me, all I could think about was the baby, what a blow to my belly might do. I didn't mean to hurt him. I grabbed a metal bar. I only meant to raise it, to defend myself. But when I hit him… When he fell…." She wrapped her arms around herself. He still held her, and though his hand ran up and down in a gentle motion, she couldn't let herself feel his warmth.
She should pull away, put space between them. Jean-Jacques hadn't spoken, so maybe now she would see that horror on his face.
"Who are these men, Colette?" His tone had lost the earnest gentleness of before, though it stayed quiet. She couldn't quite place what emotion resonated there.
She chanced a look at his face. His jaw was set, but not with disdain. He looked…determined?
"Who are they?" He locked his gaze with hers.
Telling him this last detail wouldn't make a difference. "Raphael's brothers. Louis, the younger one, came upon me right after it happened. I was still in shock, and I said more than I meant to. I was trying to explain what happened, but from the moment he saw his brother's dead body, I don't think he heard anything else. I packed a bag the moment he left and sneaked out of the fort that night. I wasn't sure if they'd come looking for me, but when I saw them a week later on the trail behind me, I knew they must have come for revenge.
“I traded for a horse, then met Young Bear’s group not long after that. I think God put them in my path to protect me. I thought Hugh and Louis had given up the search. It’s been months now. I thought I'd finally found freedom."
His eyes widened when she spoke Young Bear’s name, and he straightened. "I forgot about Elk Runs." He released her and even went so far as to lift her off his lap. "I'm sorry, Colette. I forgot about Elk Runs."
Her story must have finally sunk in. Now, he seemed like he couldn't get away from her fast enough.
But then he paused in the middle of standing. He looked at her, locking her gaze with his. "Stay here. I'll be right back. Please don't leave. All right?" Confusion swirled in her mind. He was coming back?
He didn't move, waiting for her answer, so she nodded.
That satisfied him, and he nearly sprinted out into the rain.
Chapter 23
French slipped on a wet spot as he rounded a boulder beside the trail. He grabbed onto a crevice in the stone to keep from slamming his head into the rock. For a long moment he clung there, sucking in a breath to ease the racing in his chest.
He’d better slow down, or he'd not make it back to Colette at all. He'd been so caught up in finding her and hearing her awful story that he’d completely forgotten Elk Runs might be putting his own life in danger, climbing over wet rocks in this downpour, thinking each turn might uncover her.
He eased away from the rock and started forward again, this time a little slower. Would Colette try to sneak away while he was gone? Surely not. She'd confided in him—hopefully everything now. That meant she trusted him, right?
He'd not had time to respond to her story, but he had a host of things to say. If she trusted him enough to tell him everything, didn’t that mean she wouldn't try to run again? Had she finally realized they could work through this together? Lord, help her see. Give me the right
words. Give us the right plan. And thank You for leading me to her.
If they hadn't followed this trail up the mountains, he never would've found Colette. That possibility washed through him with a new dose of awareness. Elk Runs’s wisdom may well have been heaven-sent. Thank You for guiding us.
The man was waiting for him in the place where they'd separated. He sat on a rock, as though he’d been waiting a while. As French approached, Elk Runs stood.
"I found her. She's in a little cave this way." French motioned back the way he'd come, then spun. Elk Runs followed him back up the stone staircase and around the side of the mountain.
When French rounded the last boulder and saw Colette's horse standing as it had when he left, head down and water running in rivulets from its sides, he eased out a long breath.
But he didn't fully relax until he peered through the rain into the shadows of the cave and saw Colette's form.
She was standing, her head ducked under the low ceiling. She'd not run again.
He ducked under the shelter, and Elk Runs stepped in behind him. French blew out a long breath as he studied Colette.
She eyed them with a hint of wariness, not the same open desperation from before he’d left. Don't let her close me off again.
He motioned toward Elk Runs but spoke to Colette. "He had gone the other way around the mountain, looking for you."
She nodded, flicking her gaze between the two of them. "Where are the others?" Definite wariness in her tone. Too much like a cornered rabbit that might bolt any moment.
He motioned toward the stone floor. The cave tilted downward toward the opening, so no rainwater had run inside. "Let's sit so we don't have to duck."
She seemed hesitant, so he made the first move, settling himself on the rock floor. Elk Runs did the same, and finally Colette eased down as well. She sat across from them, and the way she braced her hands behind her to lean back a little showed roundness in her belly, even through her coat. The bump swept warmth through him. The anticipation when he thought of the babe was stronger than he would have ever expected. Even now that he knew more about the child's father.
He lifted his focus up to her face, and the way she eyed him expectantly brought her question to his mind. "The others went upriver to talk with those two strangers." But they weren't strangers to her. "What did you say their names were?"
Her expression didn't soften. "Hugh is the elder. And Louis, the younger. What did they plan to say to them?"
French leaned forward. "We were looking for you. We thought maybe they'd taken you somehow, though I couldn't figure out how they would have stolen you from under our noses."
At that last comment, a hint of embarrassment slipped over her face. She didn't say anything on the subject though. She must have gone to great lengths to sneak away without anyone hearing.
But the embarrassment quickly sharpened into intensity, and she sat straighter. “They asked Hugh and Louis about me? Told them I've been traveling with you?" Alarm stiffened her tone, sending a warning through his chest.
He'd need to tread carefully. “I doubt they would have given your name. They only meant to see what the men were about, to make sure they hadn't kidnapped you."
Elk Runs spoke up for the first time. "I go make sure all is well."
As the man pushed up to his feet, Colette leaned forward like she might also stand. "In the rain?"
The man nodded. "Wet already." Then he cast a gentle look toward Colette. "I make sure all is well." Though almost the same words, this time they seemed to mean so much more. He would make this right for Colette, as best as he and the others could. They may not know who the brothers were to Colette, but Elk Runs must sense her fear.
After studying Elk Runs for a moment, she seemed to relax. "Thank you."
For a heartbeat, a twinge of jealousy pricked French. He wanted to be the one to protect her. But Elk Runs was more capable of descending the mountain in the downpour, and the braves would work together for Colette's good.
That gave French the chance to stay with her and work through the details of her past and what they should do moving forward.
As the Indian slipped out into the rain, French turned his focus back to Colette, leaning in. Now was his chance to say everything on his heart. He could only pray Colette was ready to hear it. Don't let me mangle this, Lord.
He met her gaze, letting the truth of his words filter through his tone. "I'm so sorry, Colette. I'm sorry for everything you've been through. I'm sorry I wasn't there when you needed me."
His voice graveled rough with his emotions. "I'm here now, and I'm not letting you go. Not this time. I made you a promise when I was thirteen, and I've never changed my mind. I never will. You're the woman I love more than life itself. I'll take care of you, no matter what we have to do."
A tumult of emotions clouded her eyes, so many he couldn't decipher them all. Concern maybe? Perhaps a tinge of happiness.
But the hesitation marking her expression was impossible to miss. He waited, making himself sit still, though everything in him wanted to take her hand and beg her to say yes.
She had to choose this herself. She had to commit fully, or she might try to run again.
When her lips finally parted to speak, his chest squeezed, cutting off his breath as he waited.
Her lips seemed to tremble before sound finally slipped from them. "Won’t your wife mind?"
The words wouldn't penetrate, or at least, his mind couldn't sort them into anything that made sense. She would be his wife. Hadn't he said that? He replayed his statements from a moment before.
Realization settled in. He was a blithering idiot. He hadn't asked her the most important question.
He reached out and took her hand in his. She let him, but there was no emotion in her touch. "I didn't say that right, Colette. I'm asking you to marry me. I’ve always loved you, and I want desperately to be your husband. I want to take care of you and the baby. I will do that, whether or not you say yes. But please, say yes."
She wouldn't be able to miss the desperate hope in his voice. Maybe he shouldn't lay himself out so vulnerable, but he'd never been able to hide anything from her. He didn't want to.
Yet she still held a barrier between them. Her eyes still showed hesitation, that shield to protect herself. From what? How did she think he would hurt her?
She didn't make him wait as long this time. Her chin raised a notch, and her eyes positioned that shield more tightly in place. "What about your wife, Jean-Jacques. Where is she?"
Confusion washed through him. "What do you mean? I don't have a wife. I want you to be my wife." He’d said it plainly this time hadn't he? How much clearer could he get?
Now all the confusion crowded into her eyes. "Did she pass away?"
Frustration seeped in. "Colette, I'm not married. I never have been. What are you talking about?"
She looked as befuddled as he felt. “Then who’s Susanna?”
What did she know of her? Had he spoken any of the women’s names to Colette without making it clear who they were? “She’s Beaver Tail’s wife. One of my friends I was traveling with.” He softened his gaze on her. “There’s never been anyone for me but you.”
Her lips parted, then closed, then parted again. "But…you were. Mama said…"
As she snapped her mouth closed, an awful inkling crept through him. Her mother told her he'd married? Why? Had she meant to separate them completely…forever?
He'd known her parents weren't overly fond of him. They’d offered Christian charity to the poor neighbor boy, but when he and Colette grew closer and closer, they'd seemed uneasy about the bond. He'd wondered if that had played into their sudden desire to move west, though they'd said her father's work was the cause. But this…
He focused on Colette's face, on the myriad of thoughts swirling across her expression. Her features molded into a look of dismay. Then, incredulous, horrified shock. Her perfect lips formed an O. Then his name slipped out in a whisper. "Jean
-Jacques."
She’d really thought he deserted her? That he would turn away from his promise—from their love—and wed another?
Then another thought seeped in. Was that why she'd married another?
When he met her gaze again, her eyes confirmed it.
"Oh, Colette." Moisture clogged his throat and stung his eyes. He tugged her hand, and she came to him. He wrapped his arms around her as the tears pressed harder. How much had they lost? How much had she endured? And why? It all seemed so senseless, so unnecessary.
As he clung to her, cradling her close, his tears dampening her hair and hers his shirt, he released the pain of the years he'd spent missing her. Searching for her. Desperate for her.
No matter what, he would never…ever…let them be parted again.
Chapter 24
Colette had no tears left to cry. Jean-Jacques had let them fall, soothing away the pain, refilling her heart with the love she never thought she'd feel again. This seemed far too good to be possible. Why had they taken so long to come to this point?
And to think, she'd tried to run away. To leave him far behind. She never would've known the truth.
The truth shall make you free. She nearly laughed at the Scripture that slipped in. Jesus’s words, if she remembered correctly, and how true they were. She should have told Jean-Jacques the truth from the beginning. A bit of honesty between them had cleared away all the barriers. If only they could have reached this point long ago. If only they could've avoided all the pain.
Another verse crept in. But we glory in tribulations also: knowing that tribulation worketh patience; And patience, experience; and experience, hope.
She leaned back, just enough so she could see his face. This hope was so much better than anything she’d thought possible.
Jean-Jacques caught her expression, and a smile eased the corners of his eyes. "What are you thinking?"
She raised a hand to his cheek, relishing the feel of him, warm and sturdy beneath her fingers. "At first, I was thinking how much pain we could have missed if we’d reached this point sooner. But then God reminded me how much I've grown through the hard times. This moment is so much better for who I’ve become. Who we both are now."
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