Which meant she and Andy still hadn’t caught up. They’d have to keep riding in the darkness until they found the men they were looking for. Which meant they were likely in for another long night with little sleep.
THEIR FIRE BURNED WARM as the mountain night wrapped its chilly arms around him, pulling Seth toward droopy-eyed oblivion. Across the blaze, his brother seemed much the same, and Elias had already snuggled into his bedroll. He should lie down, too, and let sleep claim him, but his mind couldn’t seem to settle.
Where was she camping tonight? The feisty woman with eyes the color of green moss and a loaded Henry rifle just wouldn’t leave his thoughts. Had she already left Fort Benton? Was she camping, even now, just over that ridge?
Had she heard the shots the night before? He’d almost gone out to check where the noise had come from, but Elias had warned him against doing so. Said he’d likely be the target of the next bullet, creeping around in the dark like that. By morning, everything seemed calm again, with the birds returning to busy chirping.
Elias bolted upright and reached for his rifle in a fluid movement that seemed unlikely for an older man. “Something’s comin’ our way.” He kept his voice low as he pushed to standing.
Seth reached for his own gun as he stood, turning the direction Elias faced. He’d heard nothing in the darkness save the crackling fire. Years of living in this wilderness had the older man’s ears attuned to any sound that didn’t belong, even at his age.
A branch cracked somewhere through the covering of pines. Seth raised his rifle. No bear would be so quiet. And a smaller animal wouldn’t approach so boldly.
“Hold your fire.” A voice slipped through the darkness. “Please.” The high tone of a woman. A familiar tone.
“Step into the light.” Elias didn’t lower his rifle, but his voice was gentle.
A branch shifted. Then she appeared, forming from the shadows. He remembered her hair as a light brown, but the strands looked the color of golden honey in the firelight. Her dress was a dark brown that faded into the shadows, illuminating her face.
His breathing stilled. She was even prettier than he remembered, with those flashing eyes and strong chin.
“Who be you?” Elias asked.
The words pulled Seth from his trance, at least enough to realize the man still held a gun on her.
Seth stepped forward. “She’s a friend. Put away the gun.”
Friend might be a stretch. The one and only time he’d seen this woman, she had a rifle trained on him and Samuel. But something inside him said she was trustworthy. His instincts were usually right. He’d spent years honing them around the card tables in California.
The woman’s gaze hung on Elias for a lingering moment. When the older man lowered his rifle, her piercing eyes turned to him. “Mr. Grant.”
“What are you doing here?” The moment the words slipped out, he wanted to slap himself. “I mean, have you come to join us?”
Her gaze turned uncertain. “I...yes. If your offer still stands. Except...” She slipped a glance behind. “It would be me and my son.” Her chin raised and the defiant look returned in full. “We’ll use our own supplies. We’d only be traveling with you.”
A son? “Of course. You’re welcome to join us.” He couldn’t help but wonder where the child was. And where had he been when they'd first met her? The boy must be quite a youngster still. She was so young herself.
She nodded. “I’ll go back and get our things.” Then she turned and looked as if she might fade into the night.
“I’ll come help.” He stepped forward, the urge to keep her from disappearing driving him.
“No.” She paused, glancing back at him. Something like uncertainty touched her face. “Thank you. I’ll return soon.”
He needed to respect her wishes, no matter how much it ate at him. So he nodded.
Then she was gone.
He eased out a breath as he turned back toward the campfire, scrubbing a hand through his hair. Samuel met his gaze, raising meaningful brows.
A rough chuckle slipped from Seth. “Yeah.” He was just as surprised she’d come. What changed her mind so quickly? The mountain heights? The gunshots the night before? Or something worse? Because she’d been surely determined only three days back.
Samuel dropped to his knees by the food pack they hadn’t yet hung in the trees for the night. “I’ll fill a couple plates for them.”
“Good thinking.” Seth should do something to get them settled, too.
Within minutes, the heavy tromping of horses sounded through the trees. One of their animals nickered, and a response came from a gray mount as it stepped into the light of the fire, the woman at its head.
He didn’t even know her name. The thought slugged him, spurring his feet into motion.
She pulled her horse aside to allow another golden-colored animal to enter. Leading it was a boy, much older than Seth had expected. Maybe eleven or twelve. Lanky, but starting to spread out—a youth growing into a man. This was her child?
“I’ll take yer horses and settle ’em on the tie line.” Elias stepped forward. He’d shed his rifle and now spoke in his usual affable tone.
The woman pulled back. “We’ll tend them.” Her words came out in a bark, just as tense as when they’d first met her.
He had to do something to set her at ease. To let her know they only wanted to help. Now that she’d joined them, she didn’t have to carry the weight of her worries alone.
“Ma’am.” He motioned toward the older man. “This is Elias Benbow. He’s a good fellow and has a way with horses.” Then he pointed back to Samuel. “My brother has food ready for you both. If there’s anything you need in your packs for the night, go ahead and grab it. Then we’d like to help you get settled in.”
She studied him for a long moment. The shadows had settled in her eyes, so he couldn’t read her thoughts.
He did his best to keep his expression open. If only he could make her believe they were trustworthy.
He hadn’t always been such, but he was now.
She must have seen something that eased her worry, because she turned away and stepped to her pack. “Get what you need, son.” Her murmur was so low, he barely picked out the words.
After pulling a few bundles from their packs, she turned to Elias. “Where are your animals tied?”
He reached for the reins, but she pulled back. “We’ll tend them. Just show us where.”
Seth had to fight the urge to follow and help. He’d never seen a woman so stubborn about accepting assistance. Surely someone had broken her trust in the world.
He kept himself busy with moving the bedrolls around to clear a space for them by the fire. Then he set out two more thick logs for seats. He would have moved the woman’s and boy’s things in closer, but he had the feeling she’d strike like a venomous snake if he touched them without approval.
At last they returned, Elias first, then the woman marching behind him, her mouth in a determined line. She scooped up as many bundles as she could carry, and her son took the others.
Seth was on his feet. “I don’t think I caught your names.”
She placed the bundles just outside of their circle and bent to unfasten the leather ties of a satchel. “I’m Mrs. Gray. My son, Andy.”
Missus? Was she widowed, then? There were plenty of widows from the War Between the States. Honestly, she didn’t look old enough to have a son that big. She must have married young.
Maybe her husband was alive, and they were traveling north to reach him. A small part of him hoped that wasn’t the case, which wasn’t a Christian way to think at all. He’d need to do a bit more praying than usual on this trip.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.” Seth motioned toward the empty place they’d created by the fire. “Settle in and let us know what you need.”
Her shoulders stiffened. “We need nothing.”
He almost let out a sigh but held it back at the last minute. She wasn�
�t taking any favors, that was for certain.
This might be a long journey north.
Chapter Four
This need intrigues me.
~ Seth
THE SNORING WAS THE worst part of Rachel’s night.
Not the snoring exactly, but the awful memories of lying in the dark, listening to the steady snorts of a man. Her husband, Richard, had only snored when he drank. And he only drank when he played cards. For at least the last year, he snored almost every night. The nights he came home anyway.
She despised snoring.
With her eyes closed, she forced in slow, steady breaths. In two-three-four, hold two, out two-three-four. She occupied her mind with the counting. If she continued long enough, surely she’d eventually fall asleep.
It seemed only a moment later, but when she opened her eyes, daylight filtered in around her. A shadowy form moved to her left.
She jerked upright, reaching for her rifle.
“G’mornin’.”
She had the gun pointed before the voice registered.
The attractive man sitting across the fire tipped one side of his mouth up in an easy smile. “Never had a gun pointed at me so often until I met you,” Seth said. “And I lived in California six years.”
She lowered the rifle to her lap and sat up straighter, then reached to brush stray tendrils of hair back in line. The other men had already risen and must be off preparing for the day. Andy still slept beside her, his face so serene she wanted to press a kiss to his forehead. She could never tire of watching her boy sleep.
But the gaze of the man across the fire seemed to pierce through her, impossible to ignore. Silence stretched between them, and she scrambled to fill it with something. “Where in California?”
“Near Sacramento.” He let out a long breath she could hear even across the fire. “The heart of mining country.” His words dripped with enough regret to make her look up at him.
“Did you strike it rich?” She should do a better job of keeping the disdain from her tone. Mining seemed like its own kind of gambling. That same lust for riches. The same drive to win. That craving became a sickness before the man realized it. A deadly sickness that affected everyone around him.
“Made enough to live on, but it didn’t take long to tell the gold was mostly panned out.” He reached for a cup. “Coffee?”
Was he offering the drink to her? The thought startled her more than it probably should. She’d not had a cup of coffee in...well, almost a year. Her mouth salivated, tasting the brew just from the scent lingering in the air. She had to force words out. A statement that brought an almost physical pain. “None for me.”
He’d already reached for the carafe, but stopped and looked at her. “You sure? There’s plenty to go around. The only other thing to drink is water.”
She swallowed. “I can get my own water.” Pushing back her blanket, she stood. “Can you point me toward the creek?”
“Here’s water for you.” He scooped the cup into a pot and raised the dripping tin up to her. “Samuel brought it a few minutes ago.”
She had to get control of her situation or she’d be too tempted to accept the things these men tried to give her. Water was a small offering, but this would lead to something more substantial, then another favor even larger. Gifts that would put her in their debt. Under their control.
A situation that could easily place her and Andy in danger.
Standing tall, she squared her shoulders. “Mr. Grant, we’ll be providing for our own needs. We’ll make our own camp. You’ve no need to draw water for us or cook for us or tend our horses. The only reason we’ve joined with your party is for the protection a group provides.”
He studied her, his brown gaze drilling deep as though seeing through the glare she aimed at him and finding the vulnerable part of her. She fought the urge to look away. To wrap her arms around herself, to conceal the reasons she warned him off.
At last, he nodded. “Very well.”
Andy stirred from his bed pallet, probably awakened by her diatribe. She reached for the satchel of items she’d need to mix up a quick corn mush, then softened her voice. “Come, son. Let’s walk to find water.”
When they returned to camp a quarter hour later, the men were going about their business, mostly leaving them alone. That evening, she planned to have her own cookfire, just so the men didn’t feel they needed to do things for her and Andy. They wouldn’t be beholden to their travel companions for any reason.
The men were efficient, so it didn’t take long for them to start out on the trail. Mr. Benbow led the way with her behind him, then Andy, and the Grant brothers bringing up the rear. Those two looked so much alike, it made her wonder if their other seven siblings looked as similar.
They wound up the side of the mountain, the trail zig-zagging twice as they ascended the steep incline. The higher they climbed, the more her stomach balled into a knot. She’d never been one to prefer heights, but she hadn’t expected these mountains to trouble her so much.
At last they reached the peak, and Mr. Benbow called for a stop. “We’ll let the animals rest a minute.” He dismounted, and Rachel did the same.
She patted Winter’s damp neck. “Good boy.” If she kept her focus on the horse, she wouldn’t have to look out over the edge of the mountain. She stole a glance at Andy, who’d also slipped off his horse.
“Here, Ma. Hold my horse while I climb up that rock.”
“Wait, no.” But he’d already thrust the palomino mare’s reins into her hand and was clambering onto a boulder as tall as he was. Her heart hammered in her throat and she clutched her neck.
Andy so rarely asked to do playful things, she hated to deny him. And the rock was solid enough, it should be safe. But just being this high up—seeing him even higher—churned bile in her gut.
He stood on the boulder and stepped toward the edge.
Panic clawed inside her like a wild animal. “No!” She jerked toward him, throwing out a hand, dragging the horses with her. “Get back!”
Andy paused and stared at her as though she’d grown a second head. “I’m fine, Ma.”
She struggled to regain control of herself. “Please. Get back from the edge.” Her voice quivered more than it should, but she couldn’t seem to stop it. If Andy slipped on the rock and fell, he’d careen down the jagged mountainside. There was no way he could survive a fall like that.
The disappointment on her son’s face was impossible to deny as he shuffled back from the edge, dropped to a sitting position, then slid down from the boulder to land on the ground. She’d not meant he had to climb down, and she hated the fact she’d not been able to allow him at least a few moments of pleasure. But the relief that swept through her was strong enough to drown out the other emotions.
As Andy trudged back to take his mare’s reins, she stole a glance at the men they traveled with. Mr. Benbow gave her a sad look that reminded her of her grandfather on Pa’s side. She’d not met her father’s parents—at least not that she could remember—until a few months before Pa died. It didn’t take long to love Grandfather. He seemed to embody everything she loved about her father—and none of the things that scared her.
She’d often seen him looking at her father the way Mr. Benbow now looked at her. She fought the urge to duck away from those eyes. This man knew nothing of her and Andy. He had no right to judge her parenting based on less than a day’s acquaintance.
A glance at the Grant brothers showed Samuel staring out over the landscape at the mountains around them, perhaps to give her privacy. Perhaps because she was of such little consequence. Seth had turned to his horse and seemed to be working on his saddle. Did he think her ridiculous, too?
She didn’t want to know. The way she raised her son was none of their affair.
Soon they mounted again and, instead of going straight down the mountain, they followed a trail that wound along the side of several peaks connected in a range.
Samuel Grant took t
he lead this time, and Mr. Benbow dropped back to ride beside her as the trail widened. Thankfully, he rode on the outside edge. Winter seemed comfortable with the man’s mule, and they settled into an easy stride.
For some reason, this man didn’t churn fear in her like most strangers did, even though he’d first greeted her with his rifle barrel the night before. Something about his demeanor inspired trust, although she knew better than to let down her guard.
“I understand you live in this territory, Mr. Benbow.” She might regret starting a conversation, but she should glean as much knowledge of the land as she could from this man.
“Call me Elias. Please. Can’t stand that mister word.” The wrinkled lines on his face formed a grimace, but they quickly faded as he spoke again. “Yes’m. ’Bout fifteen years now. Used to have farmland in the Kansas Territory. When my family died, I sold it off an’ came out here. Some folks are made for farming, ya know? Not me. I just did it ’cause that was what I had to do.” He rubbed a hand over his heavily-graying beard.
She knew exactly what he meant. Richard hadn’t been meant for farming either. He’d not felt compelled to carry on with it either. At least, not after gambling sank its barbed claws in him. She and Andy had done the work that kept them fed and clothed.
She forced the memories back. “What do you do for a living now?”
He slid her a sideways glance, a touch of humor in his gaze. “Trap an’ trade mostly. Pick up a little somethin’ here, trade it for somethin’ I need there. Hunt for a lot o’ my food, an’ I have a little garden plot in the summer.” He eased out a satisfied breath. “It’s a good life. Relaxing.”
Relaxing. Did he have no worries? She couldn’t imagine a life like that, not in her wildest dreams.
“Look there.” Elias pointed down the slope, turning in his saddle to make sure he’d caught Andy’s attention, too.
This Homeward Journey Page 3