Seth made a decision. “I’m gonna move closer on foot and try to see what’s going on.”
Before he could shift to get off the saddle without disturbing Rachel, she slid down. “I’m going with you.”
He dismounted and handed his reins to her. “The Indians may be watching for us. I’ll have a better chance of staying out of sight by myself.”
She took the reins and handed them to Samuel, who had also dismounted. “I’m going too, Seth.”
Her tone—although spoken low—left no doubt of her determination.
He let out a sigh as he met her gaze. “Stay close.”
“I’ll be your shadow.” Her moss-colored eyes held such purpose, such...he couldn’t even define it. Intelligence maybe. But more than that. The special quality that was Rachel herself.
His sudden urge to take her in his arms was too much to ignore. He wrapped a hand around her arm and brushed a kiss across her forehead.
He expected her to pull away, maybe even jump back and slap him. But she didn’t, and when he did ease back, her eyes had drifted shut, but slowly raised to look at him.
It made him love her all the more.
He stroked her arm once with his thumb. “Let’s go get our boy.”
Then he turned and headed toward the clearing before he could see her reaction to the words.
Chapter Twenty-Five
God, for once, let my instincts follow Your guidance.
~ Seth
This man had the power to shake Rachel to her core. Knocking her off guard and making her want more, even when she should keep him farther than arm’s length away.
As they moved to a better scouting position, she struggled to focus, to hone her attention on stealing forward. Being soundless required shifting into a deep awareness. An intense concentration.
They each took up position behind a sturdy tree where they had a view of the cluster of teepees. All seemed quiet inside, as though the entire camp was empty. Had the Indians left for some reason? Gone on a hunt? A few animal skins were stretched on frames in various stages of the tanning process.
A movement flicked on the far side of the group. A horse’s tail? Yes. A chestnut rump similar to the horse Burke had ridden. Although, half the horses in this country may also share a similar look from this distance.
An Indian brave appeared in the midst of the camp, striding from one lodge to another. He ducked through the leather flap and disappeared inside.
All settled into quiet until the sound of voices drifted toward them. They were the deep baritone of men and seemed to grow louder, yet the words were spoken in a foreign tongue.
Then another voice sounded, one impossible to mistake. Burke’s lazy drawl held an angry bite.
Rachel’s body tensed at the sound of him, the man who’d bound her. Placed his vile hands on her. Pressed his foul lips against her. His voice rose above the others, but she couldn’t make out his words.
Another tone spoke, quieter than Burke’s, yet forceful.
A second later, the door flap where the Indian had entered was thrust aside. Henry Burke charged through it, his face contorted in anger. Behind him, he yanked another form.
Her heart clutched. Andy. She gripped the tree for support. Strained to see her son’s face. Every muscle within her wanted to run to him. Jerk him away from that knave and take him far, far away from here.
“Don’t, Rachel. Wait until the right time.” Seth’s words barely penetrated the pain inside her. Andy looked so scared as that worthless kidnapper jerked him forward, marching toward the chestnut horse.
Indians surged out of the teepee behind them—braves, every one. Some carried rifles and none looked happy. They tracked behind Burke, an unfriendly escort out of their camp.
But he was leaving with her son.
If he got the boy mounted, they could disappear again before she and Seth could remount. She couldn’t let them get away.
“Easy.” Seth’s calming tone brushed against her as his strong hands closed around her upper arms. When had he moved behind her tree?
“We can’t let them get away. We have to go now.” She shifted her shoulders to wiggle out of his hold.
His grip tightened. “If we charge out there now, the Indians might take us all captive. That could make it impossible to get Andy away.”
She tried to let the words penetrate. Tried to see the wisdom he seemed to believe so firmly. But as she watched Burke position his horse to mount, one hand still clutching Andy like a shield, her chest ached as though it was being sliced open.
Seth’s arms wrapped around her, and all she could do was hold onto them, a sob building in her chest.
The sound of Burke’s voice drifted toward them again, rising in anger as he paused to look back at the Indians. It was still impossible to understand the words—he spoke their language—but the venom in his stance was clear.
He leaned forward as though spitting toward the Indians, and Rachel sucked in a breath. Surely he hadn’t.
The braves charged forward, swarming Burke with a surge of enraged passion. She struggled to keep her gaze on Andy. Not to lose him in the melee.
The natives seemed not to notice the boy at all, twisting Burke’s grasp from the boy as they clutched the man from all sides.
Andy ducked away from them, disappearing among the buckskin-clad bodies. Her heart surged into her throat, and she screamed a desperate cry as she jerked out of Seth’s arms, sprinting with every bit of strength she had to reach her boy. She had to get him out before the Indians trampled him.
But then Andy appeared, crouched in a ball as he rolled out of the crowd. He lay still for a heartbeat—a horrible moment when it seemed he might be truly hurt. Then he sprang to his feet.
“Andy!” She screamed his name as she closed the distance between them.
A shout sounded above the din of Indian voices. She was two lengths away from her son when the men reached him.
One brave grabbed Andy’s arm, yanking him to a stop. Andy fought against the man’s grip, but with his hands still tied in front of him, he was no match for the massive Indian.
Two more braves sprinted past the man and boy, both with their rifles raised to fire—pointed at her.
She jerked to a halt, not two strides from one of the men. Painfully aware of how empty her hands were, she raised them away from her sides to show she wouldn’t resist. At least, not yet. Not until her odds were better.
The second gunman paused to the side, his rifle pointed beyond her.
Seth. Had he followed her out into the open? Were they both now useless to Andy? All three of them captives? How foolish she’d been to dart out like this. Seth was right. If only she’d waited, not let her fear overpower her good sense. Hopefully Samuel was watching so he could look for a chance to get them out.
Another Indian called from the camp. The group swarming Burke had quieted some, so it was easier to hear this man’s voice. He spoke in the Indian tongue and must have been talking to the one holding Andy, for the man pushed her son forward—toward her.
She studied the brave’s face for a sign of what he intended, but his tanned skin and sharp features held no expression.
He and Andy reached her, and the man pushed her son into her chest. It took everything in her not to wrap her boy in her arms and cling to him.
“Ma.” Andy’s voice met her ear, filling her with warmth that was almost crippling.
“Hold on, son.”
She had to figure out what these Indians were doing so she didn’t get Seth, her son, or herself shot. With gradual movements, she eased her hands around her son’s shoulders, keeping her eyes on the two Indians in front of her. The one still held his rifle pointed at them, but the man who'd brought Andy to her had released the boy and stepped back. Something softened in his eyes as he watched her. Was he truly allowing the reunion she craved?
She closed her hands around her son, pulling him close. Breathing him in. “Oh, Andy.” Tears burned up her thro
at, stinging her eyes. If the Indians weren’t watching so closely, she would have let herself cry. Her son was safe and back in her arms.
“I’m all right, Ma.” He must have realized how close she was to breaking down.
She sniffed back the tears and straightened, only loosing her hold enough to allow him to straighten as well. A quick sideways glance showed the Indian to her right did have his rifle pointed at Seth.
What would happen to them now? No matter what, she’d not allow her son to be parted from her again.
SETH RAISED HIS GAZE from the reunion of mother and son across the clearing to the place where the Indians had swarmed Burke. The group was disseminating now, with one man leading away the horse. Two more bent over Burke’s limp body.
The sight tightened the knot in Seth’s gut. The man had been evil, a fact made clear by his kidnapping and what he’d planned for Rachel. He wasn’t sure what he thought about this method of demise, though. At least Rachel and Andy were safe from him forever.
Now they had another obstacle to face. His fingers itched to reach for the knife at his waist, but he kept his hands out where the brave holding the rifle on him could see them both.
An older Indian who’d been standing back from the fray strode toward them. Feathers hung from both his braids, and his buckskin tunic was heavily beaded. Maybe he was a leader among the band. He walked with a bit of hunch, as though he was older than he looked, or maybe sick.
He drew near and stopped where he could see them all clearly. He spoke to Seth, but pointed to Rachel. “This boy mother?” His words were heavily accented and had that languid quality of a man not quite in his full strength.
Seth nodded. “Yes. She is his mother.”
The man pointed to Seth. “You father?”
He wanted with everything in him to be able to nod and confirm the question, but he didn’t have that right. Not yet. He shook his head and pointed to himself. “Friend.”
The man nodded, then turned to look at the Indians still bent over Burke’s lifeless form. “Henry Burke not friend.” He turned back to meet Seth’s gaze with a glare. “Not friend to Indian. Not friend to boy and mother.” He motioned toward Rachel and Andy with a dramatic wave.
“He make bad trade before, but this more bad. Want trade boy for much furs.” The Indian looked back at Andy, and his gaze seemed to roam over the lad. “Want boy to take place of my son who dies.”
He looked back at Seth and touched his own chest. “Standing Horse no want boy from other mother. No want trade much furs. Give boy back to you.” He extended both arms with a flourish, as though presenting a gift. “You ride in peace.”
Seth struggled to take in the words, struggled to fill in the gaps with something that made sense. The man was sending them on their way?
The Indian motioned for the two braves to lower their guns, which they did, although both still held their weapons in both hands, ready to aim again should the situation require.
Seth needed to say something to the man. Express his gratitude so they could leave this place.
Rachel beat him to it. “Thank you, Standing Horse, for returning my son to me.” Her voice rang clear as she stood with her back straight and her chin high, her arms still around Andy. This woman was a match for any man, white skin or red.
The brave nodded, accepting her gratitude as though he understood the words.
Seth raised a hand. “We leave you in peace.” He met the Indian’s gaze, receiving a nod of his own. Then Seth looked to each of the other Indians, letting his eyes speak his peaceful intentions. The last thing he wanted was to anger one of them now.
The older man raised a hand in farewell, then stepped backward.
Seth reached for Rachel’s arm and tugged her toward him. She followed his lead, turning away from the Indians. She kept Andy tucked firmly under her arm as they walked back toward the trees.
The burn of a dozen stares heated the skin on his back, but he forced himself to take measured steps. Not to look over his shoulder.
You’ve done it, Lord. How is it you’ve brought us through this mess completely unscathed?
After stepping into the shadow of the woods, he pulled Rachel closer, slipping his arm around her back. “You hurt at all, Andy?”
“No, sir. Just ready to have my hands free.” The boy spoke in a low tone to match the one Seth had used.
“We’ll take care of that as soon as we’re—”
A movement shifted ahead of them, and Seth lunged forward, blocking Rachel and Andy from this new threat. A man stepped from behind a tree, and Seth had a hand on his knife before his mind registered Samuel’s form.
He growled as he struggled to slow his racing heart. “You almost had a blade through your gullet, little brother.”
Samuel’s chuckle drifted nearer as he strode forward. “I figured you heard me. You must be getting sloppy, big brother.”
“I didn’t think you’d be hiding behind a tree when we could have used an extra rifle out there.” He took his brother’s proffered hand and pulled him into a quick hug. Now that his heart rate was settling, the relief of having all four of them together—and safe—was making his legs shaky.
While Samuel greeted Rachel and Andy, Seth cut the boy’s bonds loose, then gathered his and Rachel’s rifles from where they’d dropped them behind the tree.
“Let’s get the horses and head out of here.” He handed Rachel’s gun to his brother, since she looked like she wasn’t turning loose of her son any time soon.
Not that he could blame her.
Within minutes they were mounted again. Rachel snugged behind him and Andy behind Samuel.
“The horses have had a few minutes to rest, so we can move faster now.” He motioned for Samuel to take the lead and fell in behind him.
Within minutes they’d found the game trail and were moving at a swift trot. Afternoon had passed through the last few hours, and the dusky light of evening was settling in the air as they finally exited the trees.
Samuel reined down to a walk and motioned for Seth to guide his horse alongside. “You wanna camp at the base of the mountain where we did before?”
They’d traversed this cliff a couple of times now, so it would be a little easier to do in the dark, but still not safe. He rested his hand on Rachel’s where she held his middle, then looked over his shoulder to catch her at the edge of his vision. “What do you think?”
She didn’t answer right away, a sure sign she wasn’t eager to stop. He’d like to get farther away from the awful ordeal, too. But he also didn’t want to risk their lives or their animals on that steep, rocky terrain.
“I guess we’d better make camp.” Her tone sounded resigned, not at all eager.
He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. “We’ll take turns on a watch.”
“All right.” Her voice was closer to his ear, her tone softer. The words meant for him, and they slid another thread of longing through him.
If she came to sit with him again tonight, he’d tell her how he truly felt. Hopefully, she wouldn’t run away again. But if she did, this time he’d go with her.
Chapter Twenty-Six
This purging...who would have thought that I’d be stronger for it?
~ Rachel
It was hard to believe Rachel had lain in this exact spot, staring up at these same stars, just days before. And once again, she couldn’t sleep for the day’s events whirling through her mind.
Seth had taken the first watch tonight, with Samuel planning to spell him partway through. She’d not even volunteered to take a shift. Her nerves were still so raw from almost losing her son. But lying beside him now, listening to the steady in and out of his breathing, was slowly calming her spirit.
Thank you for protecting him, Lord. For protecting us both. And thank you for Seth. Samuel, too, of course. But Seth had been her rock through the entire ordeal. From the moment he crashed through the door to take control of Hackney to the one where he’d jumped in fro
nt of her and Andy to protect them as his brother stepped from behind a tree. She’d never thought she could trust a man again, especially not someone as impetuous and emotional as Seth, but her heart wanted so badly to believe in him.
Could she? Even if he had left his vices behind, only a short time had passed. Not even he could say for sure that he’d never succumb to temptation again. One time so easily slid into two, and the fangs of addiction took control again.
Still, her arms longed for his touch, her spirit his nearness, if only just for tonight. Creeping from the makeshift bedroll they’d created from the scant supplies Seth and Samuel had brought, she crawled toward where Seth sat.
He extended a hand to her, as she somehow knew he would, and she settled against his arm, allowing him to pull her against his side. The awful events of the day had wiped away her ire, and now she owed him an apology.
Before she could work up the words, his husky vibrato warmed the air between them. “Can’t sleep?”
“I can’t seem to stop listening for Andy’s breathing.”
Seth eased out a breath. “I know what you mean. I’ve never been so scared in my life. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for letting you stay out in the woods so long. Or for approaching that cabin in the first place.”
There was the perfect lead-in. She should take it before she lost her nerve. “I’m sorry about leaving camp like that. For getting so angry and stalking out. I should have had more control.”
He didn’t answer right away, and the warmth of his breath heated her cheek as he looked at her. “I thought it might be more than anger that made you leave like that. Maybe a little fear.”
How was he able to look into her like that? This man knew her better than any other person. Maybe even better than she knew herself. She would have never expected that to be a comfortable feeling—being so vulnerable before him—but he didn’t abuse his knowledge. And it made her want to be honest with him. To open up a little more.
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