This Homeward Journey

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This Homeward Journey Page 5

by Misty M. Beller


  He turned to Andy. “Go to the creek and get my big pot. Fill it with water. Quick.” The icy mountain water would be the best thing for her.

  The boy leaped to his feet and tore off.

  Seth refocused on the woman, his stomach roiling at the sight of her hand. He took her arm and pulled it toward him. She gave stiffly, releasing her grip on her wrist.

  “Is your sleeve wet?” If the cloth held burning water against her skin, the damage could be getting worse. He touched the cloth to see for himself. Not damp. It looked like the searing water had only reached the edge of her palm.

  She sniffed, drawing his gaze up to her face. Her eyes were rimmed in red, her nose bright. Yet no tears ran down her cheeks.

  A tight knot squeezed in his chest. She shouldn’t have to fight to be so strong all the time. How could he let her know she was safe? She could let her guard down when she needed to. Did she ever cry? His mother once said tears were healing for a woman. Maybe if he could help her release her grief, she could start to heal from whatever pain she’d endured in her past.

  He leaned forward so he could see her face. “What’s your given name, Mrs. Gray?”

  Her gaze jerked to his. “Rachel.”

  He had a feeling she wouldn’t have shared that detail if she were thinking straight, but he was thankful she had.

  The loud tromping of Andy’s boots through the underbrush sounded as he ran toward them, water sloshing from the pot. His appearance interrupted what Seth had planned to say, but that might be for the best. Rachel needed relief from the pain more than anything.

  He set the pot down in front of her, and she dipped her hand in the water. She gasped as her skin touched the liquid, but then her mouth closed to a thin line, the muscles in her jaw flexing.

  “I’m going to roll up your sleeve to get it out of the way.” He reached for her cotton cuff, his fingers large and stubby against her thin arm.

  “What’s happened?” Samuel’s step was almost as heavy as the boy’s as he and Elias charged toward them.

  Rachel stiffened again, squaring her shoulders. “All is well. Just a burn.” Her voice was still strained, but more like her normal, no-nonsense tone.

  Seth sent his brother a look that revealed more of the truth, and when Samuel stepped close enough to see her hand glaring at them from under the water, he winced. “Ow.”

  Even Elias grimaced at the sight. “We’re gonna need to wrap that. I’ve a salve we can put on it to keep it from festering. I’ll fetch it.”

  As he left, Seth glanced at Rachel’s face again. “Any better?”

  “Some.” Her expression didn’t look as certain as she made her voice sound.

  He scanned for something else they could do to ease the pain. “Maybe you should go to the stream where the water stays cold. That might numb the pain.”

  She nodded, started to rise without a word, water dripping from her hand.

  He took her elbow to help her up, and she didn’t jerk away. He made sure he released her as soon as she found her balance. He wouldn’t force her to accept his help. He’d just take it a little step at a time.

  After she knelt by the stream and eased her hand into the water, she let out a long, slow exhale. Red rimmed her pretty green eyes, but then she lowered her eyelids and sealed them away. She seemed to be forcing deep, steady breaths, which was the best way to deal with pain. How much practice had she been required to endure?

  “You feelin’ better, Ma?”

  She opened her eyes and turned a strained smile to her son. “I am. I’ll be fine, honey.”

  The boy’s throat worked, but he didn’t look convinced. Smart lad.

  Rachel seemed to see it, too, for she leaned over to pat his arm with her good hand. “Go eat the flapjacks Mr. Grant made, then saddle the horses. I’ll pack our things, then we’ll be ready to leave when the men are.”

  At least she’d finally consented to eat the food he cooked for them. But they weren’t going anywhere until her hand was cared for and some of the pain eased.

  Andy didn’t move to obey his mother’s words, and a glance at him showed his jaw locked. “I’ll stay here in case you need me.”

  A boy trying his best to be the man his mother needed. A lump clogged in Seth’s throat. These two shouldn’t have to work so hard to survive.

  He rested a hand on Andy’s shoulder. “She’s gonna be fine. But it’ll be good to have you nearby.”

  The boy nodded, his gaze raising to Seth in begrudging thanks.

  Elias appeared through the trees, a glass jar and a folded cloth in his hands. He handed the container to Seth. “You might wanna do this, my hands are all bent up from the rheumatis’ this mornin’.”

  Seth’s breath hitched. He wanted to help Rachel, but touching her burned flesh would be painful, no matter how gentle he was.

  Rachel withdrew her hand from the water as he reached for it, a hard expression taking over her face. She dabbed the water on her skirt to dry it, and he could almost feel the tension emanating from her. Yet she didn’t cry out, didn’t break her stony look. This woman was stronger than steel.

  After opening the jar, he took her cool wrist in his big paw and dabbed dots of the white cream around her hand. With the pad of his finger he spread a thick coat of salve with his lightest touch, doing his best to not even brush her raw skin. He didn’t dare look at her face. Pain surely showed there. Looking at this angry flesh was hard enough.

  “Now let’s wrap it.” His voice pitched low and gravely, but at least he got the words out.

  Elias handed over the ball of cloth, and Seth shifted it to find the loose end. He placed the edge at Rachel’s wrist, where she held it in place with her good hand. Their fingers brushed as she took his place with the fabric. The contact sent a jolt up to his shoulder, even though he was already touching her arm as he supported it.

  Maybe his awareness of her was solely because of her injury. He’d better keep it that way. She clearly wouldn’t have him, whether he was interested or not.

  The bandage was long enough to wrap her hand completely, and within minutes, the limb was fully covered in a white glove. He swathed each finger individually to keep the skin from rubbing. After tying the end in place, he straightened and finally checked her face.

  Her eyes were bloodshot, and her nose a bright red, but no tears washed her cheeks. She seemed to be holding them back by sheer force of will, if her locked jaw was any indication.

  “I know that hurts, but we should keep it covered a few days in case it blisters.” He rubbed his thumb across her wrist, relishing the contact one last time before he released her.

  She nodded and sniffed. “I’ll be fine.” And if determination alone could make her well, she would accomplish it.

  He forced his gaze away from her to Elias. “Is there anything else we can do?”

  The older man shook his head. “She just needs time to heal. You young fellers wanna stay around these parts today? We can hit the trail again come mornin’.”

  Seth opened his mouth to agree, but Rachel shook her head violently. “No. We ride on. I won’t slow you down.”

  This woman was too stubborn for her own good. He raised his brows to Elias, silently asking what he thought they should do.

  His mouth puckered in a thoughtful frown as he looked at Rachel. “I suppose. But you have to promise to speak up if you get to hurtin’ too bad.”

  They both looked at her, and she met their gazes with a fierce expression. She didn’t answer, and it didn’t look as if she planned to say anything at all.

  So he prompted. “Rachel?” They weren’t leaving until she gave her word.

  She narrowed flashing eyes at him. “Mrs. Gray.”

  He almost ducked at the venom in her voice. Apparently, sharing her given name had been an act of weakness during her trauma. “My apologies. Mrs. Gray....” He emphasized her name. “Can we have your word you’ll tell us if your hand hurts too badly to keep going?”

  “You h
ave it.” Her words came out measured, as though forced through gritted teeth.

  He let out a breath and sat back on his heels. “All right then. I guess let’s get on the trail.”

  But as they packed up and mounted the animals, he couldn’t shake the feeling they were making a mistake.

  RACHEL MAY HAVE GIVEN her word to speak up if her hand hurt too badly, but they’d not detailed what too badly meant. Her hand had felt like someone peeled the skin off her flesh ever since those first moments when the pain sank over her.

  And it wasn’t getting any better as the day progressed.

  She rode sandwiched between Andy’s mare in front of her and Seth Grant’s gelding behind, with his brother bringing up the rear. Thankfully, the ground wasn’t particularly rough or high up the mountainside, although she probably wouldn’t have noticed the scenery with her eyes half shut against the pain. The throbbing had moved into her head, too, and every step Winter took seemed to explode inside her.

  But she wouldn’t call a halt. Not unless she lost all consciousness. And she wouldn’t do that either.

  When they stopped for lunch, she kept herself apart from the others. Andy looked worried, and she did her best to reassure him. Seth sent more scrutinizing glances her way than she liked. That man had a way of looking into her that made her feel as though he was seeing her vulnerable places. The things she did her best to hide. Could he see the depth of her pain even now?

  If so, he didn’t say anything. He did hold Winter’s head when she mounted, and she didn’t tell him to step away. It was hard enough to climb on the horse without touching anything with her right hand. If the gelding had stepped forward during the process, she might have ended up flat on the ground.

  “All set?” Seth looked up at her after she adjusted the reins. Worry lines creased under his eyes. Eyes that seemed to care far too much.

  She did her best to give him a confident look. “I am.” She’d do this, no matter what it took.

  They started off, winding up a rocky trail. The sun beat warmer than it had the past few days, making beads of sweat run down her face. More perspiration seeped down her back beneath the folds of her undergarments. She squeezed her eyes tight as the swaying of Winter’s gait pounded through her head with every thrum of her pulse.

  One minute at a time. She’d make it through this day.

  Without warning, the horse jerked sideways. She squealed, jerked the reins with her left and clutched at the saddle with her right. Fire shot through the limb. Her squeal turned to a scream as her fingers seemed to explode into flame. The horse moved out from underneath her, and she lost her balance.

  The world tilted as her foot pulled free from the stirrup. She landed with a blow that slammed through her body.

  Another explosion ripped through the air like a gunshot, ricocheting inside her head. She curled tight to get away from it, squeezing her eyes against the pain that stole her breath.

  Men shouted around her. Hands gripped her arm, her shoulder. Not rough hands, but she could feel the strength in them.

  Yet it was Andy’s voice that forced her eyes open.

  “Ma!” The desperation in his tone wrapped around her heart with an ache that almost superseded the pain that coursed through the rest of her body.

  She searched for him, her gaze swimming as she struggled to right her view of the landscape.

  “Are you hurt? Did it bite you?”

  She found Andy as he grabbed her good arm. “I’m all right. Not hurt.” Except for the fire in her hand and the pounding in her head. She’d landed on her right side, so she probably hit her injured hand. The appendage felt like it was still drenched in boiling water, so she had no idea if it had sustained more damage.

  She pushed her good hand under her and worked to lever herself upright. Strong hands helped lift her, and she knew without looking they belonged to Seth. She could feel his presence anytime he was near.

  Sitting upright made her head spin, and she clutched her temple to still the whirling. “Where’s my horse? Is he hurt?” It wasn’t like Winter to bolt like that.

  “Samuel has him. Elias shot the snake before it struck.”

  She spun to face Seth, but instantly regretted the action as her head throbbed with pain. “Snake?”

  His mouth pinched in a grim line as he nodded. “Rattler.”

  Her throat clutched, not allowing air through. No wonder Winter had spun off the trail. He'd been getting them both out of danger. If her hand hadn’t been injured, she could have stayed on when she gripped the saddle.

  The spinning in her head finally eased, so she moved to her knees, then to a standing position. Seth tried to help her up, but she shook his hand off her arm. “I’m fine.”

  She couldn’t let them coddle her. Couldn’t show weakness that would give them an advantage over her. Letting a man have that power was never a good thing.

  Yet with only one good hand, a pounding head, and now an ache in her backside, she was as weak as she could ever remember being. As weak and as vulnerable.

  Chapter Seven

  I hate this weakness I can’t control.

  ~ Rachel

  AS SETH ROASTED ANOTHER section of venison for dinner that evening, he couldn’t seem to stop his gaze from straying to Rachel. She’d probably string him up from the nearest sturdy pine if she knew he wasn’t calling her by her surname in his thoughts.

  The thought brought a smile, and he kept his eyes glued to the meat dripping from the spit so she wouldn’t know she was the source of the grin. He hated whatever had hurt her before, but he couldn’t help loving her spunk.

  As he moved the meat to a plate, voices sounded in the distance. Samuel, Elias, and Andy must have been finished settling the animals. The boy’s voice pitched higher than the others as he asked a question, then Elias replied in his relaxed drawl.

  Seth paused from slicing the roast into individual portions to watch the three approach. Andy still had that gangly look of a boy, yet his stride matched that of the men beside him. A boy growing into a man. Where was his father? How long had he and his mother been on their own?

  Although he’d not always appreciated working in the fields alongside his own father, he couldn’t imagine trying to maneuver his growing-up years without Pa’s guidance. He didn’t always follow his father’s advice and example, which led to his struggles in California, but they’d helped guide him back to the Heavenly Father when he reached his lowest point.

  Hopefully Andy wouldn’t fall into the same types of wickedness Seth had, but he still needed a man’s example to show him the way to adulthood. Something in Seth’s chest ached at the thought of the boy trying to mature without that kind of guidance.

  He turned back to the food and speared each chunk of meat onto a separate plate. After scooping out beans to go with the venison, he rose and carried the first two plates to Rachel and her son.

  She was attempting to refasten the ties on her pack but jerked her gaze up to his as he set the platter beside her.

  He didn’t say anything. Didn’t comment on how much easier it’d be for her if she ate his food tonight. Just placed the second plate by Andy and walked back to the fire.

  Samuel had already scooped up his and Elias’s, so Seth reached for his own tin platter and settled onto the ground to eat.

  After his first bite, he stole a glance at the woman and boy. Andy had picked up his plate and was looking to his ma, probably for permission.

  She nodded to him, but the tight line of her mouth showed she didn’t like what she probably considered accepting charity. In his mind, it was more like being a good neighbor, but he knew better than to argue.

  Still, he’d eaten half his meal before she finally reached for her plate and forked a bite of venison. With the brilliant reds, purples, and blues of the setting sun behind her and the glow of the firelight on her face, she looked just like an angel. A strong, fierce angel, capable of riding all day with a badly burned hand and likely a few significant b
ruises from her fall.

  The fact she’d come through the snake ordeal with only minor injury proved just how much God cared about this woman. Did she realize it?

  Maybe he could find a way to make sure she did.

  THE NEXT MORNING, IT felt like everything Rachel attempted took twice as long as it should have. Maybe because she was working with only one hand. Or perhaps because every part of her right side ached from the fall. If she could cut that half of her body away, she would gladly do it.

  But as she finally had their things packed and ready, a glance around showed the men were just as far behind as she. This would be the time to find Andy and see if he needed help with the animals, but her weary body wouldn’t seem to obey.

  She was still sitting there by the soggy remnants of their campfire a few minutes later when Andy’s voice drifted over her shoulder. He was walking toward her, his tone animated as he spoke. “We swam there until the man who owned the pasture moved, and Ma didn’t trust the new owner. I was pretty good before we stopped going.”

  Why would he be talking about their old swimming hole? She held her breath to listen for a response so she could see who he was talking to.

  “I’ll bet so.” Seth’s warm timbre answered. “Swimming was my favorite thing to do growing up. In the summer anyway.” His voice dipped low where she couldn’t hear, and whatever he said must have been funny, for they both chuckled.

  Andy’s laugh slipped through her, wiping away her pain. How long had it been since he’d laughed? These last few years, he’d grown quieter than when he was young.

  Man and boy reached her, and she turned to offer a smile. “Are we ready?”

  “Yup.” Andy grabbed her satchel and hoisted it onto his shoulder.

  Seth met her gaze as the boy turned away. His eyes were warm, but also searching. “You feel up to another day?”

  Just once, she wanted to give into the warmth he offered. Not have to fight her exhaustion and pain—her weakness. She couldn’t give in, though.

 

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