“Samuel and I first went west back in ’60. I was bored in our little hometown of Yorkville and desperate to get away from the farm. When my brother agreed to go with me, there was nothing left to hold me there. I think he went hoping he could keep me out of trouble, but not even he was able to do that.” His voice drifted away at the end, and silence settled over them.
As his words reverberated inside her, what had started as unease tightened into something stronger. How bad was the thing he needed to tell her?
“We started out mining, but most of the gold had already been uncovered. It’d been over a decade since the first discovery. We realized the real money would be made off the miners themselves. I met a man who was scoping locations for a tavern, and we struck a deal. Samuel and I would run the place and Hanks would front the money needed to get things started.”
Her stomach churned as realization settled through her. This was worse than bad. Yet it seemed as though he spoke of another man. She couldn’t imagine Seth being part of such a venture. Nor Samuel.
“The place did better than any of us dreamed. There were so many people coming to make their fortunes, only to discover the fortunes were already spent. They came to our saloon to drown their sorrows or try to increase their meager findings through games.
“Samuel didn’t like it from the get-to. Said we were as bad as thieves and murderers, but all I could see were the profits filling our coffers.” His voice grew muffled as his head ducked between his hands. His outline that of despair. Yet she couldn’t summon much pity. How many families had he ruined the way hers had been torn apart?
“Samuel left the business, but I couldn’t tear myself away. Deep down, I knew he was right. I hated watching men gamble away the money they were supposed to be sending their families. I hated watching lives lost when whiskey ran too freely. It wasn’t a good place. And I did more than contribute. I fed the beast that tortured those men.
“It wasn’t until I finally came to terms with the damage I was doing and tried to get out that I realized I was as tied to the vices as those men I pitied. The first day away from the saloon, I found myself right back there, receiving cards dealt by another man. This time, I had no control over whether he cheated, and I found myself on the raw end of the game more times than not. I was desperate to recover my losses. Desperate to prove I wasn’t a phony, even if only to myself.
“I was mired so deep, I lost everything I could get my hands on. Nearly lost my life more than once. Samuel tried to stop me over and over. Tried to get me hired at the ranch where he’d been working. They all knew who I was. Knew what I’d done. Probably could see my addiction just by looking at me. I wasn’t in good shape.” His voice cracked on that.
“I thought about ending it all. Knew I had failed in my great adventure away from home. Most of all, I hated the way I still craved the taste of a good hard whiskey, the thrill of the win. Even the feel of the cards in my hands, the clink of the chips, the murky haze of smoke filtering through the room. I never liked the taste or smell of tobacco—at least that’s one vice I never took up.
“One afternoon I was near my lowest. I sat in the room I shared with four other men. A room Samuel paid for because I had nothing left. I was there alone and had locked the door to keep myself from going to the saloon.”
He gave a hard chuckle. “Locked myself in and slipped the key under the door so I couldn’t reach it. I begged for God to intervene. The addiction had become the biggest—the only—thing in my life. I knew I needed someone even more powerful to stop the control I’d given those needs.”
He sat for a moment, his hands pressed together as if in prayer. “God took away the power those things had over me. He took away every urge. Every desperate need. Wiped them away. From that moment on, I’ve never had even a tiny craving for the drink or the gambling.”
He raised his head to look her way. She couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze. Couldn’t seem to stop the shaking in her hands.
“I knew God gave me a chance to start over. A chance for a new life. Samuel and I left town the very next morning.”
“How long ago was that?” The quivering in her voice wouldn’t still. As if she had no control over herself. As if the numbness taking over her chest was spreading further. If only it would take her completely. Pull her away from this impossible nightmare.
“About six months. We took the long route northward.”
He was quiet, and she couldn’t have spoken again if she had to. The only thing she seemed capable of was flipping the meat in the pan. First one way, then the other.
How was it possible Seth had done those things? Not this man she’d come to know and love. For she did love him. She knew that now.
Or at least she had. She wouldn’t love another man who was addicted to drink and gambling. She would not. What was wrong with her that she was drawn to men like this? Or was it truly all men who suffered from such weakness?
“Rachel, I’ve never had another urge to enter a saloon, or even take a drink, since that day. God healed me. Completely.” His voice held pleading. Quiet desperation. Yet resolve, too.
The combination was almost her undoing. A gut-deep cry sprang up inside her, an urge to escape. To leave this place—this man.
She surged to her feet, her breath coming in short gasps as she spun to get her bearings.
“Ma?”
Andy. She couldn’t leave him. Not with these men who were just as untrustworthy as her dead husband. “Come with me, Andy.”
“But, Ma—”
“Now. Come now.” She bit hard on the steel in her tone as she marched toward the thickest part of the woods around them.
His hurried step sounded just behind her. “Yes, ma’am.”
At least she could still count on her son to be what she needed. Now it was time to regain control. Put together a plan for how they would travel the rest of the way to find Henry. Alone.
And she would find a way to put Seth Grant behind her.
“I RUINED IT. EVERYTHING. I shouldn’t have told her like that.” Seth couldn’t stop himself from pacing the length of their campsite.
“How would you have told her that would have made the story any different?” Samuel still worked at the deer hide, his efforts marking his words as he scraped the last bits of flesh from the thick leather.
He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. Slower. I wouldn’t have just spilled it out like that. I should have tried to prepare her.”
“What do you think she’ll do now?” Samuel’s voice was way too calm and steady for the situation.
Seth clamped his fingers on the ends of his hair and pulled. Anything to keep himself from expressing his frustration the way he really wanted to. “I hope she’ll think about it a while, then come back and tell me she sees how much I’ve changed. I hope she'll agree with me that the past is behind us.”
“You think that’s what she’ll do?” Again with the emotionless tone, although maybe this one held a bit of prodding.
He heaved out a frustrated grunt. “Not likely.” The knot in his belly hardened. Would she turn her back on him? Why in the rocky hills had he told her? Because you had to be honest, numbskull.
But what if he lost her completely? Oh, God. Let her see reason. Bring her back so I can make this right.
Samuel shifted from scraping the hide to applying salt. “So, what are you gonna do?”
Should he go after her? Chasing her down might just prove he was still the impetuous man who craved the thrill of winning. She’d left their horses and supplies here, so she’d have to come back. He could wait for her. When she returned, he would prove he was trustworthy. Dependable.
Somehow, he’d prove it.
“I’ll wait for her.” He spun to face the fire and the pan that now emanated the scent of charred meat. Maybe he could have the remaining venison roasted by the time she came back.
RACHEL DID HER BEST to ignore the glare Andy sent her way as she dropped to her k
nees beside the tiny creek and splashed water on her face. He didn’t understand why they needed to leave Seth and Samuel, and she wouldn’t degrade his father or these men by explaining the details to him. She’d always tried to keep him as unaware as she could about his father’s sins, although it had been impossible for him not to realize things weren’t right.
Now, she couldn’t bring herself to tell him the things Seth had done. Couldn’t shame the man in her son’s eyes. But they had to leave, no matter how much Andy wanted to stay.
She inhaled a sharp breath as the icy water seeped into the pores on her face and dripped down her neck. They’d have to go back and get their things. Maybe she should do it alone.
But Andy would want to say good-bye to these men who had helped him over the past weeks. Even though Seth and Samuel wouldn’t want them to leave, she was pretty sure they would be decent about the farewell, for Andy’s sake.
She’d have to chance it. Trust them one last time.
Then she would never let another man this close again. No one except Henry. She hadn’t seen her brother since she first married Richard, but surely he hadn’t changed from the earnest lad she remembered. He had probably been about Andy’s age when Mama took him to live with their new stepfather. Henry had been quiet like Andy, sober.
She couldn’t wait to reunite.
After wiping her face with her sleeve, she turned to her son, working as much cheer into her face as she could muster. “Soon we’ll—”
She broke off when she saw the empty rock where Andy had sat. “Where are you, son?” Spinning, she scanned the woods around her. This area was more verdant than others they’d traveled through, with leaves bushing the trees and shrubs and grass poking up in a few sunny patches. Yet none of the shadows revealed her son.
Her heart surged as she struggled to her feet. “Andy?” Her voice rang high, and her breath came short. She struggled to gather a full inhale to call louder. “Andy!”
She stilled, straining for any sound of his response. Nothing except the pounding of her pulse in her ears.
Had he gone back to the men? He must've.
Raising her skirts, she raced back the way they’d come. She’d only gone a handful of strides before a hand slipped out from behind a tree, clapping tight around her upper arm.
Another hand slammed over her mouth, stilling the scream before it had chance to escape.
Chapter Twenty-Three
What damage have my sins caused now?
~ Seth
Seth scanned the trees where Rachel and Andy had disappeared. How long would she stay away? It seemed like an hour had passed at least. Was she doing this just to torment him? Or did she really need this much time for her anger to cool?
“I think you should go after her.”
He whirled to face his brother, a bit of relief sinking through him with the quiet words. “You don’t think that’ll make it worse?”
Samuel shrugged. “I wouldn’t begin to know what a woman thinks, but maybe she wants you to come find her. Show her you’re worried.”
He let out a long breath. “I am worried.”
His brother nodded. “Then go find her. Besides, maybe something happened and she needs help.”
A new knot began to form in his middle. If she was in danger out there, and he’d been at camp doing nothing but fretting, he’d never forgive himself. Why hadn’t he thought of that earlier?
He reached for his rifle and shot pouch, checked the knife sheathed at his waist, then spun to face the trees. “I’ll be back.”
“You want me to come?”
Seth paused mid-stride. “No. But I’ll send up a shot if there’s trouble.”
“Fine.”
Her trail wasn’t easy to follow, as they’d all traipsed this way multiple times going to the creek and back. That was probably where she and Andy had gone, so he headed to the water first.
Neither of them were at the stream, although something about the area didn’t seem quite right. Maybe it was his imagination, but the leaves forming the groundcover seemed more disturbed than normal. If that was a sign they’d been here, what would they have done to ruffle the forest floor?
It looked almost as if they’d been playing a game of tag or...maybe struggling.
He fought the wave of bile that churned in his gut. That line of thought was mere speculation that would tie him in knots. Instead, he raised his voice and called out, “Rachel? Andy? I came to make sure you’re safe.”
Only silence met his words. No twitter of birds, no chatter of squirrels. The quiet pressed hard on his chest. “Please, Rachel. I know you may not want to talk to me. You don’t have to, just call out and let me know you’re not hurt or in danger.”
Utter stillness was his only response.
Something wasn’t right. The fine hairs on his neck tingled as the certainty of that fact took hold.
He scanned the mangled leaves for more evidence of what might have happened, then widened his search to see if he could find a trail leading away from the area.
It took a couple minutes, but finally he found it.
Just behind the trunk of a large fir, a small area had been pressed flat, as though someone stood there for a while. Then just beside, the leaves churned with two rows extending farther from the creek. Something had been dragged through there. Or someone.
The drag marks didn’t go far, but he was able to pick up a footprint here and there mixed in with freshly snapped twigs, churned leaves, and a recently broken spider’s web.
Someone had come through here not long ago. Probably Rachel and Andy. But what had made the drag marks?
He followed the trail of faint signs for at least fifty strides, moving mostly alongside the creek, now out of sight of the fir where he’d first started tracking. Then he came to a place where the leaves were more than ruffled.
Deep hoof marks pressed into the muddy ground, where they mingled with leaves and horse droppings. At least one animal had been tied here for a while.
His chest squeezed hard. Rachel and her son hadn't made these tracks. Their horses were still tied with his and Samuel’s. Someone else had been here this morning. These prints had been made after last night’s rain.
Had the Indians finally caught up with them? That seemed the most likely. The only people they’d seen for days now were the two mountain men and the band of Indians, and it made no sense that Burke or Hackney would want Rachel or her son. They would have no use for them. Then he thought of Rachel's beautiful face and piercing eyes, and he imagined what the men could want from her.
Fire burned in his belly, spurring him into action.
The path of disturbed leaves was easy to follow from this spot, meaning they’d ridden away from here. He’d need a horse to catch up with them. And maybe he’d need Samuel’s help, too.
After a final scan of the area to make sure he hadn’t missed a detail, he sprinted back toward camp. Every second mattered.
RACHEL BIT AGAINST the rough leather binding her mouth, but if anything, her efforts only tightened the strap. She’d been jostled in front of this man’s saddle for what felt like hours, his meaty hold strapping her tight against his chest. With her hands bound in front of her and the leather filling her mouth, she had nothing to fight with except her legs. And kicking would only anger the horse and risk her life.
She turned for a glance at her son, who sat in front of the other man’s saddle. Andy met her look, his eyes impossibly wide as the leather covered the lower half of his face.
Anger burned inside her. How could these villains treat a young boy like that? Binding him like a criminal. No child should be forced to experience this much fear.
We’ll get out of this. I won’t let them hurt you. She willed him to understand the words through her gaze. If only she’d done a better job of protecting him.
The trees around them thinned, and they rode into a clearing where a cabin sat just ahead. She’d suspected these might be the men Seth had traded with fo
r the salt, and this place looked like the cabin he’d described.
This was why she never trusted strangers. Why she avoided towns and other travelers at all costs.
If Seth had never alerted these men to their presence, she and Andy wouldn’t be riding with them now, bound and gagged. And what did they want? Other than a few barked commands, neither man had spoken.
It wasn’t hard to imagine what they might want from her. And the thought raised bile into her throat that made her want to rip the leather from her mouth and spew all over the beast holding her. But what of Andy? A boy wouldn’t be any good to them. He'd be just another mouth to feed.
Surely they didn’t plan to kill him. Panic clutched her throat, but she forced her body not to show sign of it. Surely these men weren’t killers. Ravishing her would be bad enough. And kidnapping a child. But surely they weren’t the kind of men who could murder an innocent boy.
If they hurt him, she’d spend her every remaining breath ensuring their misery.
The men reined to a stop in front of the cabin, and the one behind her spoke. “Let’s get ’em down.” He groaned as he dismounted, his large bulk pushing her forward and his arm clamping tighter around her ribs as he pulled her to the ground with him.
As he pushed her forward toward the door, he spoke to his partner. “You sure I can trust ye to keep yer hands off the girl ’til I get back?”
He was leaving? To where? This might be her chance to get them away. Surely she and Andy could overpower the leaner red-haired man.
“Course you can. Long as I get my fair chance at her later.”
As she thought. Sickness churned in her middle, but she wasn’t done fighting. Not in the least.
The man booted the door open and pushed her inside. “I reckon by the fire’s the only place to tie her, but you make sure you keep a rifle on her the whole time. Ye hear?”
This Homeward Journey Page 17