“We mean no harm, ma’am." He eased his hands up. "Just came to ask a question.”
“Step out here where I can see you, then ask it.” She edged backward, giving them room to comply.
He and Samuel both obliged her, keeping their hands out and well away from their own pistols. Seth wasn’t particularly concerned, as they didn’t plan to do anything that would encourage her to pull the trigger. Even so, when a man is staring down the barrel of a Henry rifle at close range, it was better to take precautions.
He wrangled away the urge to step back into the trees.
“What’s your question?” Now that his view of the woman wasn’t blocked by branches, he realized she was much younger than he’d expected. Maybe somewhere in her mid-twenties, a couple years younger than he and Samuel. And she’d be pretty too, if she didn’t wear such a look of...well, hatred was the word that sprang to mind.
She had absolutely no reason to dislike them that much, and for some reason, he had a sudden urge to prove himself worthy. Once she got to know him, he’d make sure she fully changed her mind about him.
He cleared his throat to get his dry mouth to work. “Ma’am.” He nodded in greeting. “My name’s Seth Grant, and this is my brother, Samuel. We were in the trade store today, and the fellow there said you might be headed north through the mountains. We’re going that way too, so we came to invite you to join our group.”
Her hard eyes widened, but the gun never wavered.
He hurried on. “We’ve one other man riding with us. Elias Benbow. He’s lived in this land for a lot of years. A good sort. He’s gonna show us the route, then he’ll drop out when we reach his cabin right below the line into Canada. We plan to go on to our brother’s place a week or so into that country.”
He stopped to catch his breath and give her a chance to speak.
Silence filled the space between them. Was there something else he should add? More details she’d need to know to see the wisdom in joining forces?
“Is that everything you came to ask?” Her words held no sign of emotion. No sign of whether she was leaning toward a yes. Although the lack of sentiment probably meant she wasn’t convinced.
“Yes, ma’am. We thought it made sense to travel together. You know the old saying, ‘many hands make light work.’ They also make for better protection.”
“I appreciate your offer, boys, but no thank you.” She spoke with a flat tone.
And she called them boys.
“Why wouldn’t you want the protection?” He couldn’t help the bite of irritation in his tone. She must be touched in the head to deny their offer. She didn’t look half-witted, but perhaps that was truly the case. Unless...was she afraid of them? He glanced down at his shirt and trousers. Clean enough. Maybe he should’ve shaved and washed better, but he’d have been dirty again by now with all the searching they’d done to find her.
Whatever her reservations, he needed to convince her to drop the crazy notion of traveling alone through this wilderness. He forced his voice to calm. “We mean you no harm, ma’am. We’ve been in California for the past half-dozen years, but before that we hailed from Yorkville, a little town in South Carolina. From good folks, a family of nine children.” He scanned his memory for something else that might help, then looked to Samuel for assistance.
His brother straightened. “Our folks are farmers. They raise corn and cotton mostly. We didn’t even have slaves before the war. We worked the farm ourselves.”
Her face remained stoic. Unimpressed. Stone. If she was afraid, she had the best poker face he’d ever seen. And he’d seen more than he cared to remember.
Maybe she was touched in the head. Or on the run from the law.
As Samuel’s words faded into silence, the woman raised her chin a notch. “I pity your poor mother for having to raise such a brood. Now, I think we’re done here. You asked your question, I answered. You can be on your way.” Her vivid green eyes held such resolve, there seemed to be nothing left but to turn and leave.
“If that’s what you want, ma’am. We’ll be leaving Fort Benton morning after next. If you change your mind, meet us at the small gate behind the trade store at sunrise.”
“I already gave you my answer.” The gun raised a hair, giving the impression they’d best leave.
Seth stepped back. “The offer still stands.” Then he made himself turn away. Forced himself to put his back to the gun. To prove he wasn’t afraid of her.
Because he had an inkling fear was, indeed, the motivation behind her bluster. The comment about his mother made him think she’d experienced her own hard life and could sympathize with another woman whose path wasn’t easy.
A woman as young as she was couldn’t know what hardships his mother faced, but she must have her own story. Didn’t everyone?
As he and Samuel trekked back toward town, the possibilities of what an innocent young woman might’ve endured flashed through his mind. Stomach-churning possibilities. Enough to make him want to turn around and force her to travel with them.
He couldn’t compel her to make the safe choice, though. The only thing he could do now was put her in God’s hands.
Lord, protect her. Do what I can’t.
RACHEL STARED AT THE descent before her, trying to still the roiling in her middle. God, help me do this.
“You want me to lead, ma?” Andy reined his horse forward to move up beside her.
She swallowed. “No, I can do it. I just didn’t expect the mountains to be so steep yet.”
“I think this is only a hill. At least, compared to those over there.” He pointed straight ahead, and she squinted to make out the massive forms shrouded in fog.
As her eyes adjusted, the peaks took shape with startling clarity. Yes, peaks. Rising at least twice as high as the terrain they rode now, capped with white and looming tall enough that a fall from them would kill a person without question.
Could she lead them safely through such heights? She had to. There was no other choice if they were to have the new life she'd promised. She and Andy had to fade into the obscurity of these mountains until they reached Fort Hamilton. Once they found Henry, he would help them.
Until then, they had to undertake this journey alone.
Squaring her shoulders, she nudged her gray gelding forward. “Come on, Winter. We can make it.”
The horse didn’t seem concerned about the descent, tucking his hind legs under him as he shifted steadily downward. Andy’s mare, Summer, did just as well.
Still, Rachel had a white-knuckled grip on the saddle by the time they reached the bottom.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Andy’s tone held a lightness she couldn’t help but envy.
She shot a look at him. “One down, twenty more to go?”
He wrinkled his nose. “More like two hundred.” His gaze slipped sideways. “Hey, is that the men who came to the camp?”
She followed his focus. Skirting the base of a hill ahead, three men rode in single file, their horses loaded with enough supplies to last for weeks. The two men in the rear had similar builds—at least, similar ways of sitting atop their horses.
Those broad shoulders, squared as if charging into adventure, did look an awful lot like those of the men who’d come stomping into their camp two days before. Seth and Samuel Grant. They shared similarities that made no doubt of their claim to be brothers. Seth must be the older, from the way he'd naturally taken the lead.
A bit of impulsiveness in that one. Probably a tendency that had snared him into more than one unhappy ending. She knew the type too well. Had been married to one with that same propensity to do whatever notion swept into his mind at the moment.
She set her jaw against the painful memories and guided Winter closer to a stand of cedars. The men rode far enough ahead they probably wouldn’t look back and notice her and Andy, but they’d do best to stay out of sight anyway.
Although maybe...if their guide was as good in these mountains as they claimed, p
erhaps she and Andy should follow their trail. Shadowing the men could be the wisest way to ensure she didn’t get herself and Andy lost in this wilderness.
Because from the looks of things, the Montana Territory was vast and treacherous enough to swallow them whole.
“WHAT ARE THEIR NAMES again?”
Rachel motioned for Andy to quiet his whisper even more, then moved close to his ear. “The younger man by the fire is Seth Grant. The older is Elias Benbow. The other brother by the horses is Samuel Grant.” Though she’d been terrified when they’d come to ask their question, she’d made a mental note of every detail.
Andy nodded, his gaze never leaving the men setting up camp in the little clearing.
Maybe she shouldn’t have brought her son along, creeping close to the men’s camp to see what they were about. But she’d not been able to suppress her curiosity about how they behaved themselves. After all, if she’d answered differently, she and Andy might be sitting by that fire, even now.
Seth had something simmering in the pot—beans, from the smell of it—and was spooning cornmeal batter into a sizzling pan. Somehow, she hadn’t expected him to be the one cooking, tending to women’s work. But then, they didn’t have a woman among them to attend those duties. Had that been the reason they’d offered to have her along? Maybe now the men planned to take turns at the job.
Within minutes, Seth was handing out tin plates of food, first to Mr. Benbow, then to his brother, who came to sit by the fire. They filled cups from a metal carafe, the kind used to brew coffee. She heard Seth mention water but hadn't caught the full sentence.
Were they truly only drinking water with the evening meal? This close to the fort, they should still have whiskey they’d surely packed for the journey. The wretched stuff had been much more readily available than clean water around the fort.
She couldn’t pull her gaze from the scene as the men ate, speaking a bit here and there. Mostly, they seemed to enjoy the food and companionship. An easy camaraderie slipped around them, and they didn’t pass a whiskey flask once.
Finally, Mr. Benbow set down his plate and spoke an appreciative comment, then rose with a groan loud enough for all to hear. “Reckon’ I’ll stretch my legs a spell. Don’t forget to pack all the foodstuffs so we can hang it up away from the bears.”
Andy tugged her sleeve. “Let’s go.”
The boy was right. They’d spent more time watching these men than they should have. She still had to force herself to turn away from her curiosity, to creep behind her son as they retraced their steps up the rocky incline. She stumbled on a loose stone in the darkness but caught herself. She flinched as the noise of the skittering pebble seemed to echo in the darkness.
It wasn’t like her to be so careless. She and Andy had become masters at moving soundlessly in the night, even sneaking up on a few Indian camps on their journey along the Missouri.
The ability to remain unseen was a skill that had served her well for many years. Until now. She could only pray the men hadn’t heard.
“MA, WAKE UP.”
Rachel jerked at her son’s sharp tone, springing upright as she blinked away the haze of sleep. A low rumble seemed to fill the air around her, and she struggled to focus on where it might be coming from.
“I think it’s a bear.” Andy clutched his rifle tight against his shoulder.
She spun to face the direction he stared. Something stirred in the darkness, and the rumble took on more definition.
The crashing of heavy feet echoed through the woods. A surge of unhappy growling sent skitters down her back and arms.
Pushing the blankets aside, she leaped to her feet and reached for her own rifle. They’d paid dearly for these two guns, using the tiny profit from selling the homestead to buy these and the horses. But she’d been thankful every day since then.
“I’ve got the first shot.” Andy’s legs were braced in his shooting stance so the force of the Henry’s recoil wouldn’t knock him to the ground.
The gun was almost as long as he was, and the sight of him there, her twelve-year-old son playing the part of a grown man, made the burn of tears surge up her throat. She shouldn’t rely on him so much.
The hungry grunts and growls grew louder. Closer. The shadow moved, then took shape, padding toward them on all fours.
A scream built in her throat, but she held it in as she pumped the lever on her own rifle and raised it to her shoulder.
Andy’s gun exploded, ripping through the night.
The bear roared, surging up on its hind legs to a height that froze the blood in her veins.
Chapter Three
God, let me be enough. Please.
~ Rachel
“Shoot!” Andy’s high command pierced Rachel’s panic.
She sighted down the barrel, aiming for the bear’s exposed chest. But her finger refused to squeeze, her heart booming in her chest. Images flashed before her vision. Blood spraying across a wood floor, staining the yellow skirt a bright crimson. The same life-blood running through her mother’s hands.
“Ma!”
She jerked herself back from the memory. Found the bear’s chest again as it advanced closer with each racing heartbeat. Closed her eyes tight and squeezed the trigger.
The explosion knocked her backward. The bear roared again.
A second shot rent the air, stilling the roar like a door slammed on the sound.
She forced her eyes open, found the place where the beast had stood. Dropped her gaze to the ground. A massive pile of brown fur lay in a heap.
Andy blew out a long breath, and she turned to him. He looked so young standing there with his hair poking on end, a smoking rifle still clutched in both hands. How could he be the stronger of them?
She wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and they both stared at the beast that would have mutilated them if not for Andy’s bravery. “I’m not sure what I did to deserve you, son.” She swallowed against the knot in her throat. “I’m proud of you.”
He put a clumsy hand around her waist and patted. “It’s all right, Ma. I’d best get him bled out.” The voice of experience.
They worked together on the job, leaving what they could to finish in the morning. Finally, they washed up and laid weary bodies into their bedrolls. She should have sent Andy to bed earlier. At least he could sleep a bit longer in the morning. They’d need to finish preparing the meat and the hide for travel before they could start back on the trail.
The Grant brothers would get a head start on them. Maybe even make enough distance that she and Andy wouldn’t find them again.
But then another thought made her eyes pop open. Had they heard the gunshots? Surely they had, since they were just over the ridge and down the slope. Would they come see what happened? Had they already? The men would be foolish to attempt the path in the darkness, although surely they would investigate come daylight.
The thought gnawed at her sleep. Her hand rested on the stock of her loaded rifle for most of the remaining hours before dawn.
BY THE TIME RACHEL and her son had the meat and the hide prepared and tied on their horses with the other supplies, half the morning had passed. Which meant they’d have to push the horses faster than she liked to catch the Grant party. They hadn’t come to investigate as she’d imagined. Was late night gunfire so common in this wilderness it provoked no curiosity? A frightening thought.
And the thought of what lay ahead only tightened the fear coiling in her chest. More ferocious animal attacks, more dangerous precipices—more men, likely more dangerous than Seth Grant and his brother.
Guilt and fear weighed heavy on her. She had no choice.
For Andy’s sake, maybe they did need the safety of numbers. The safety that joining the Grant brothers would provide. Her son had been forced to grow up far too fast already due to his father’s addictions. She had to stop expecting him to take the place of a full-grown man.
She’d failed him the night before. And she couldn’t let her own sho
rtcomings put him in danger like that again.
They took turns riding, then walking while the horses cooled, then riding again. After a short break mid-afternoon, they remounted and nudged the horses into a jog as they charted the base of a mountain. She’d seen signs the men had traveled this way. At least, evidence someone had ridden this way recently.
As the sun sank to the mountains on their left and turned the sky crimson and orange, the sound of male voices ahead made her signal a stop.
“I hear ’em.” Andy’s low murmur behind her drowned out the noise she strained to hear.
She scanned the rocks and shrubs ahead. The men might be planning to set-up camp among the underbrush.
She motioned Andy forward and guided them off to the side. The last thing she wanted was to barge into their camp without knowing the way of things.
As they reached the fringe of trees, she pulled up and positioned herself and Andy in the shadows. She slid down from her horse, and Andy did the same. “I’m gonna see if they’re making camp.” She spoke low enough the men wouldn’t hear.
“Wait. I see someone.” Andy moved forward to peer through the branches.
She padded up behind him. “You’re right. Why are they turning back?” Two horses emerged around a rock, following the path they’d been on minutes before.
Realization slipped in, bringing a hint of fear along with it. Those weren’t the horses they’d been following for three days now. The slumped shoulders of the men atop them looked nothing like those of the Grant brothers nor Mr. Benbow.
Her chest tightened. More strangers. This was exactly the reason she'd chosen to take this harder route through the mountains, so she could avoid men like these.
“I guess they’re going to the fort?” Andy looked up at her, his questioning gaze begging for the answers. If only she had them.
“I suppose so.” She rested a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll wait until they’re out of sight before we move on. Stay with the horses. I’m going to scout through this underbrush.” In case the Grant party had indeed decided to camp here. But she suspected she would have heard them speaking with these strangers if they were close.
This Homeward Journey Page 2