Harmony (Journey's End Book 3)

by Victoria Phelps

  “Well, it’s about to pay off.” He laid his palm on her cheek. “I’ll be as fast as I can,” he assured her before swinging his way back to the ground.

  Harmony watched as he hurried away from the tree and climbed a nearby slope. When he reached the top, he turned and waved with a wide sweep of his arm. She smiled. He knew she’d been staring. The smile disappeared when his distant figure vanished over the rise.

  With the slowness of a glacier, time ticked by. Harmony recited all the presidents, in order, under her breath. She sang the songs of her youth. She thought of her grandmama. How kind she had been to Harmony, how demanding, how dishonest. She examined her feelings for Matt. He was a good man, of that she was certain. She had caught him looking at her with a strange heat in his eyes. It was like he had a secret furnace, and she held the match. That thought began a race of strange tingling radiating from her core and spreading through her body. It made her clench her legs together. It made her breasts feel tight and full.

  A chipmunk appeared on her branch. He cocked his head and raised his fluffy tail behind him. He observed her with eyes like jet beads and chattered his hellos.

  Harmony giggled. “Hello, sir. Am I disturbing your home?”

  The animal waved his front legs as if to dismiss the idea. He chattered another comment before jumping in a single leap to a limb on another tree. Harmony held her breath until he landed with great confidence and scurried away.

  She leaned against the scratchy trunk and closed her eyes. She was so tired, so very tired.

  Harmony came awake with a jerk. While the sun had been to her back when she’d climbed the tree, it now cast its feeble light on her face. Snow still drifted through the chill air and piled on the ground. Matt should return soon. She grasped at that straw. Had two hours passed? She stared with unblinking attention at the hill where he had disappeared.

  Her bladder screamed for attention. She squirmed this way and that. She squeezed her legs together. She tried to ignore the pressing need. What should she do? Matt had said to stay in the tree no matter what, but surely he had not intended for her to soil herself.

  He would be back very soon. She tried to wait, but every passing second was torture. She decided. She would climb down, relieve herself, and wait for him at the base of the tree. He wouldn’t be gone much longer. He had to be on his way back this very moment. When she explained the problem, he would understand.

  She turned on her stomach and dangled her legs over the branch until she felt her toes touch the limb below. Repeating this technique from limb to limb, she reached the branch where she had begun her assent. Laying on her stomach once more, she dangled her legs into open air. Harmony let herself slide off the branch until she fell through empty space and landed, hard, on her bottom in the snow.

  Not wanting to urinate where she would wait for Matt, she hurried to a nearby tree. She pulled her skirts up and twisted to undo those two black buttons. She lowered her body close to the ground and let her water pass. She exhaled in relief. Thank goodness she’d made it down in time. Harmony twisted to the right and fastened the button. She twisted to the left.

  A hand, large and weather-beaten, laid hold of her upper arm and squeezed. She writhed to escape the brutal grip.

  “Well, what do we have here?” The man growled through brown teeth. “I done found me a woman.”

  Harmony screamed and tried to scramble away. She scratched at his hand and pulled on his fingers one by one. She kicked at his shins.

  Her captor observed her with the interest a giant might pay a gnat. “Stop that caterwauling,” he demanded.

  “Let me go,” Harmony screeched. “Matt is coming back for me.” She increased her efforts at escape, but his grip was firm and painful. She screamed and screamed and screamed.

  “I told you to hush,” the man said. He pulled his arm across his chest and released it with speed and purpose. The back of his hand struck Harmony on the side of her face and sent her head snapping from the force.

  Her head buzzed, and her cheek blazed with pain, but she clung to the idea of Matthew and escape. She screamed and pounded on the fingers locked onto her arm.

  He turned to face her and released his grip. For a brief moment, she thought she’d won and this monster of a man would go on his way. Then she saw his fingers curl into a fist and the fist pulled back into a weapon. When that fist met her jaw, her body flew backwards through the air untethered by the laws of gravity. She landed with a sickening thump against the base of her tree. Blood dripped from her injured lips and scarlet drops bloomed on the cold, white snow.

  Harmony slid into darkness, deep and dark.

  The brute of a man lifted her from the ground, slung her over his shoulder, and carried her away. Away from Matt. Away from the shelter of her tree.

  Away.

  Chapter 6

  Two rabbits, one white and one brown, hung from Matt’s pack. He’d clean them, start a fire, and roast them to golden perfection. He could already feel the satisfaction of protein rushing through his body lending it strength, confidence, and the will to keep walking.

  He smiled at the thought of Harmony’s full stomach. It was his job to keep her safe and healthy, and he aimed to see to it. These rabbits took a chunk of that worry from his shoulders. He’d seen her strength dripping away. She was so thin she hardly cast a shadow.

  The meat would last three maybe four days if they were careful. Hell, tonight they wouldn’t think about rationing. They’d eat until they were full. The idea of this future feast gave him the strength to hurry up the last steep incline. Once he cleared the top, he’d be able to see the tree where Harmony perched and awaited his return.

  Sweat dripped down his face and burned his eyes. His lungs sucked at the paltry oxygen, but he scaled the last summit at last. With squinted eyes he searched the horizon until he spotted the tree. He watched for movement or a flash of color or any sign of life, but it was difficult with the snow swirling in his face. Matt glared at the leaden sky. They’d need to find a place to hole up for a bit. A storm was coming. He began the descent and breathed a sigh of relief. This was easier, and he could move faster.

  Matt kept his eyes on the path ahead. He couldn’t risk falling. If he were injured, their chances of survival fell to near nothing. He stopped every hundred yards or so and scanned the tree. Damn. He should be close enough now to see her. Resolve fueled by fear he wouldn’t yet acknowledge propelled his legs into as much of a run as the snow allowed.

  When he was fifty yards from the spot, he knew she was gone.

  “Harmony,” he yelled with all the strength his lungs contained. He waited. “Harmony,” he yelled again. All this screaming was mighty damn useless. He needed to investigate close up. Matt lifted his knees high and made for the base of the tree.

  Under the lowest branch, he found an impression in the snow. He figured this was where she’d dropped out of the tree. Her footsteps, partially obscured by falling snow, led to the right. Matt followed them a short distance where they halted behind a neighboring tree. A spot of yellow in the snow added to the story. She’d come down to pee. Lord have mercy. He’d told her not to come down for any reason.

  His heart lurched to a painful stop. A short distance away her footprints were joined by a larger pair. The snow was churned into a mash of prints, some large and some small. There’d been a struggle. Back under her tree he found a larger indent. He bent and brushed the recent snow away. Blood. The snow dyed red.

  A single pair of footprints, large ones, trailed away.

  His mind raced like a rat in a maze. If the man meant to help, wouldn’t he have awaited Matt’s return? Was the blood Harmony’s? She’d been taken against her will. There simply was no other possible solution. Harmony would not have left on her own. She would not abandon him in the wilderness. She would not.

  She’d been kidnapped. The word sent a surge of terror to his brain. He’d follow. He’d follow and rescue her or die trying. Matt adjusted the pack on h
is back and slung the one Harmony left behind over his shoulder. He regarded the rabbits with regret. He had to leave them behind. Remorse stabbed. He hated to take an animal’s life for nothing, but he had too much to carry as it was.

  Matt loaded the shotgun and gripped it in his right hand. The snow was falling harder and filling the man’s footsteps. He had to get moving before he lost the trail.

  Fatigue forgotten. Hunger ignored. Matt kept his eyes on the snow and tracked. Light snowflakes became large, wet ones. The wind picked up and pelted cold, wet snow into his face and down his neck. The larger flakes clung to his face and lashes blurring his vision. If he didn’t find a place to shelter soon, they’d find him face-down in the snow, dead.

  He trudged on. Unspeakable images rose unbidden in his mind. Harmony raped. Harmony beaten. The stains of red in the snow crawled like nightmares through his brain. He couldn’t stop. He wouldn’t rest. Harmony needed him.

  Matt rounded a bend and froze. Some one hundred yards away stood a small log cabin. Smoke emerged in a gray wisp from the chimney. A covered passageway on the back of the house connected to a smaller building. It might be a barn or storage. The man was hunkered down for winter. He could go days without leaving the cabin.

  He considered his next step. He’d lived in the wilds of Montana for a good spell and met many men there. They ran the gamut from friendly to mean as a snake in the grass. Isolation could make a fellow odd, but that quality could have been the one that drove them to the wilderness in the first place.

  There was a chance, a slim one, that the fella who took Harmony meant well, but he wouldn’t count on it. There had been signs of struggle and that blood-stained snow. He’d go in with a smile but expect trouble.

  Matt dropped their packs to the ground near the cabin. He checked the shotgun to be sure it was loaded. He snapped it closed and held it low by his side, non-threatening, but handy.

  “Hello the house,” Matt shouted. If he took the man by surprise, no telling what would happen. Best give a bit of warning. He knocked on the door and waited. When no one came, he pushed it open and let himself in.

  A giant stood by the stove with a stick of wood in his hand. He opened the door to the stove and pushed it in before turning. Matt looked the man over with an assessing eye. He was two or three inches taller and a good forty pounds heavier. If it came to a fight, he’d have a tough go of it. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but he’d do whatever was necessary to keep Harmony safe.

  Along the back wall a series of nails for hanging clothes were driven into the wall. A coat hung from one and a pack from another.

  Holy Hell. Harmony hung from the third. His heart stuttered to a stop before restarting with a painful jerk. She’d been stripped to her chemise. Her long naked legs were exposed. The material of her under garment barely covered her private parts. Clothes, including the oatmeal long johns, lay scattered at her feet. Her hands were bound, pulled over her head, and hooked over the third nail.

  His gorge rose in his throat, and he swallowed convulsively. She’d been gagged. A dirty handkerchief stained with blood was stuffed into her mouth. Her lips stretched to accommodate it. He could tell from across the room that swallowing was difficult. Purple bruises stood stark against her white skin on both sides of her face. Her right eye was swollen almost shut.

  Matt’s insides twisted and his hand clenched the shotgun. He gave a wan smile in Harmony’s direction and pressed the palm of his free hand toward the floor. Keep calm.

  Harmony managed a tiny nod. She stood on tiptoe to remove some of the weight from her arms. How long had she been hanging there like a discarded garment? Her arms must hurt like the very devil. Matt’s anger flamed hot and high.

  “What do you want?” the man growled.

  “Well, friend, that’s my woman you got hung from that nail,” Matt said.

  “Well, friend, I reckon she’s mine now. I found her, and I’m keeping her,” the man replied. He sneered at Matt over a matted beard. “Mighty careless of you to leave her wandering on her own. Finders keepers.” He shrugged massive shoulders.

  “Shouldn’t the lady have a say?” Matt asked.

  “No.” His abrupt answer rang with finality. “Women don’t get no say. They do what they’re told and keep quiet. That’s why that one,” he pointed at Harmony, “is gagged. She wouldn’t stop that yammering. I couldn’t stand it. She’ll learn.” The man glared first at him and then at Harmony. “You must be Matt,” he stated. “She squawked about you until I shut her up.”

  “I am,” Matt agreed. “She’s my woman. I’m not leaving her behind.”

  “Mister, you lost your claim.” His voice held amazed wonder. “I found her peeing in the snow. Alone and unattended.”

  “She was supposed to stay hidden in the tree,” Matt offered an explanation that sounded weak even to his own ears.

  “Well, she’ll do what she’s told from now on. I’ll see to it,” the man said. “Stranger, you got two choices. Leave the woman here and go on your way, or I’ll kill you. Women is scarcer than hen’s teeth in these mountains. I ain’t giving her up.”

  Harmony squeaked around her gag and struggled to free her hands.

  “Stop that,” the giant shouted. “I told you to be quiet.” He moved with menacing purpose toward Harmony. His hand pulled back to strike a blow.

  Matt cocked his shotgun. “I wouldn’t do that,” he warned.

  The big man twisted, and Matt saw a flash of silver as he drew a knife from the scabbard attached to his belt. With a flick of his wrist, Harmony’s captor sent the weapon flying toward Matt with the speed of a bullet and just as deadly. Matt pulled the trigger on the shotgun.

  He was ready with the second shot, but the man slumped to the floor. He lay still while blood pumped from the gaping wound.

  The knife had missed his heart, but it was buried deep in Matt’s left shoulder.

  Harmony shuddered and squirmed in an attempt to free herself. Tears poured down her abused face.

  “Shush, darlin’,” Matt soothed. “I’m coming.”

  He leaned the shotgun against the wall and hurried to her side. He pulled the hateful gag from her mouth.

  “Matthew,” she choked out. “Thank God you came. I was so scared.” Her voice, ragged with disuse, was hoarse and gravely.

  “Sh,” Matt soothed. “Let me get you free.”

  With his right arm, he lifted the rope over the nail and brought her arms down with slow care.

  “It’s going to hurt when the blood starts flowing.” He cautioned her while massaging her arms with one hand.

  He found a knife on the table and cut the rope. Harmony rubbed at her abused wrists. Matt dragged a faded quilt from the bed and draped it over her thin shoulders. She pulled it around her and held the two ends together with a tight fist under her chin.

  A wave of dizziness washed over him like a cold tide and he sank into a chair. He leaned his head against the back and waited for his head to clear.

  Harmony stood close by his side wringing her hands. “Oh, Matt, you’re injured. What can I do?”

  Weariness washed over him. He was tired, so very tired.

  “I need your help, Harmony.” His voice sounded like a distant whisper. “I need you to pull that knife straight out. Straight out in a single pull,” Matt instructed. “Find a towel first. There will be blood.”

  Matt closed his eyes and waited. By God, that had been a near thing. It was a miracle he wasn’t the one lying dead on the floor. He ground his teeth. Harmony would have been left at the man’s mercy, and it was clear that was in short supply.

  “I have a towel, Matt. I’m ready,” Harmony announced.

  “Stand in front of me. Take firm hold of the hilt and pull. Pull quick and hard. It will be harder on both of us if you are timid or gentle.” Matt held his left arm firmly with his right. He nodded at Harmony. “Go ahead.”

  Harmony released her hold on the quilt, and placed both hands on the hilt of the knife.
She looked at Matt with a question in her blue eyes. When he nodded, she did as he’d asked. Swift, firm, decisive, she pulled on the knife. The blade slid from his shoulder, and blood spurted from the wound. Matt grabbed the towel and pressed it to staunch the flow.

  “Sit with me, darlin’,” he groaned. Harmony lowered her bottom to his muscular thigh and looped her arms around his neck. She laid her cheek against his and held him close. When the bleeding subsided, he threw the red soaked towel to the floor and pulled her to him with his right arm.

  Harmony’s tears soaked his shirt. He patted her back and lifted his legs in a little jiggle of comfort. He felt strength and purpose returning to his limbs. They’d survived.

  “Here’s what happens now,” Matt began. “I’m going to drag that big galoot outside. A shotgun shot at close range makes a powerful mess, Harmony. Don’t look.”

  She sniffled. “All right.”

  Matt dragged the dead body outside. It would be buried in snow in a few hours and stay frozen until late spring. He grabbed their packs and hurried to get back to the warmth of the cabin.

  He stamped his feet and brushed snow from his coat. “There’s a storm raging outside. Wind, snow falling so heavy a man can’t see. We’re lucky to be inside with a fire and food.” He shrugged. “I’ll look around. He must have some salve some place. It’ll help the bruises on your face and the chafing on your wrists. He must have some alcohol. I should disinfect my wound and yours, too. Then, we’ll eat and sleep.”

  “What can I do to help?” she asked.

  “Put water on the stove to heat. Check what he had cooking on the stove. This storm could last for days, but I’m sure he has provisions. Looks like he’s been living here for years, and he would know what kind of weather the Rockies can have.”

  Harmony hurried to do his bidding while Matt followed the passage to the small room at the back. Wood was stacked solid along one wall. A haunch of venison swung from the rafter along with a side of bacon. A shelf of canned goods stood opposite the wood, and in the very back was a small chicken coop with four hens asleep. The mountain man had been prepared, and Matt sent up a silent prayer of thanks.