This Homeward Journey

by Misty M. Beller

  He studied her, his intense gaze not just reading her words and expression, but pressing deeper, seeing the emotions she was trying not to show.

  One corner of his mouth tipped, but his eyes didn’t give credit to his attempt at a grin. “I guess I’m afraid you’ll decide I’m not worth all the chaos and run.”

  The vulnerability in his words, in his gaze, speared her. “I guess I’ve run away before, haven’t I?” She slipped her hand into his. She wasn’t usually the one to initiate a touch, but this seemed right.

  He rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand. “This time, I’ll go after you straightway. You won’t get far.” Now the grin did touch his eyes.

  She inhaled a strengthening breath. Now was the moment. “You know, it’s possible for a person to change. If God steps in, takes away any desire for that old habit.”

  He stilled, searching her gaze.

  She let him see the truth in her eyes, spread across her face.

  “Do you mean it?” The yearning in his expression made her chest ache.

  “I do.” The next words spilled out, not nearly as frightening as she expected them to be. “I may have the urge to run every now and then, but I’m going to have to trust God to keep me strong. We both will.”

  His gaze glimmered, the depth of his feeling pressing harder on her chest. He stepped closer, bringing him near enough that the warmth of his breath brushed her face. “I won’t gamble with your heart, Rachel. I’ll work hard to be the man you and Andy need. The man God’s called me to be.”

  He took her other hand and lifted their joined fingers to his chest. “I won’t always get it right. I might disappoint you.” One corner of his mouth tipped. “I’m pretty sure I will disappoint you, every so often. Hopefully not where it really matters, though.” His face turned serious again. “With God working with us, we can be stronger together.”

  The beat of his heart thumped against her fingers, matching the racing of her own pulse. Lord, let me not choose blindly. Give me wisdom.

  This decision should frighten her more than it did. The thought of giving herself again to a man. Yes, that did scare her. But the thought of giving herself to this man? To Seth in a marriage interwoven with faith in every part?

  She could summon no panic at the thought.

  So she raised her gaze to meet his, locking with those intense eyes that made her want to lose herself in him. “I believe you’re right. We can be stronger together.”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I thought I’d have to wait longer before I could ask this.” He raised one of her hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Rachel Gray, will you do me the honor of marrying me, allowing me to become a father to Andy, to point him to the Heavenly Father?”

  His words were perfect, capturing her heart’s desire for all three of them. She had to swallow the lump of emotion clogging her throat. “Yes, Seth. Please.”

  His gaze was hungry, searching hers, perhaps to be sure he'd heard right. Hopefully her smile would be proof enough, for she couldn’t seem to hold in the giddiness sliding through her.

  Bit by bit, one side of his mouth tipped in that roguish grin that always started a flutter in her middle. He eased forward, lingering an extra second with their foreheads not quite touching. As though savoring even the thought of a kiss.

  Then he tipped his head and brought his mouth to hers.

  The sensation was everything she'd imagined, and warmth settled through her. This was what it felt like to be home.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Where these people I love abide will always be home to me.

  ~ Seth

  This day had been unlike anything Seth expected. So much better. So much fuller.

  He stood by the fence in the dim light of the moonless sky, taking a minute to enjoy his gelding’s company before going inside for the night. In truth, he needed a moment to clear his head.

  It still seemed almost too wonderful that Rachel had accepted his proposal. After spending more time than they should have on their walk, she’d slipped her hand in his as they meandered back to Noelle’s cabin.

  The request she made of him on that return trek was what now had his mind churning. She wanted to find her brother before they wed. Wanted him to be there for the ceremony.

  Of course she did. She needed her own family here, especially the one relation she still seemed to hold affection for. He couldn’t deny her—wouldn’t deny her.

  But he also couldn’t deny the fact that finding one man in the midst of this vast wilderness could be nearly impossible. Lead me to him, Lord. Please.

  Maybe Henry would still be at Fort Hamilton as he’d been the last time he wrote to Rachel. About a year ago, she'd said.

  At least she agreed to let Seth ride on to find him alone, leaving her and Andy at Noelle’s home. With both his brothers and his brother-in-law here to protect them, he didn’t worry about their safety. And time with Noelle might be good for Rachel. A chance to play with all the youngsters would surely be fun for Andy. Like having cousins he’d never known about.

  And these would truly become his cousins.

  A grin tugged his face. You’ve given so much more than I deserve, Lord. Thank you.

  With the prayer on his lips, he gave the horse a final pat and turned toward the cabin. Light filtered through the window, drawing him toward the warmth of family—both those who’d been connected to him since birth and those who would soon be his to claim in truth.

  When he pushed the door open, little Eli sprung toward him. “Guess what, Uncle Seth. Ma says we can go swimming tomorrow with Andy if you’ll take us. Will you? Please?”

  He raised his gaze to the adults in the room, mainly his sister, whose mouth pursed in that look she always wore when things were playing out just as she planned.

  “Where do you swim? Is there a lake I haven’t seen yet?” He turned the question to Eli, shooting a glance up at Samuel, who would hopefully be his partner in this excursion. Three exuberant bodies might be more than he could take on alone.

  Samuel didn’t wear the grin he expected. Instead, he had had a serious look that struck a chord of dread in Seth’s chest.

  Eli was already answering, though, so he forced himself to listen. “...it’s a creek but there’s a spot perfect for swimming. We take our lines an’ try to catch Mama fish to cook after we swim.”

  The words called up memories of his own childhood, so clear they could have been memories of the week before. Again, he lifted his gaze to Samuel as he answered the boy. “That sounds like the perfect thing. Maybe your Uncle Samuel will come along. He’s always been the better fisherman.”

  “Yeah.” Eli turned his blond head and pleading eyes to his other uncle. “You’ll come, too, won’t you? I’m not too good at the fishing part.”

  Samuel reached out and tousled the boy’s head. “’Fraid I can’t this time, but I’ll take you fishing sometime soon.” He raised his gaze to Seth, all hint of mirth slipping from his eyes. “Rachel said you’re going on to Fort Hamilton to look for her brother. I’d like to go instead.”

  The words struck Seth like a blow, though he couldn’t say exactly why. “What do you mean? You want to go with me?”

  Samuel shook his head. “Your place is here. I want to see the fort, so I’ll go without you.”

  The idea made sense, but something about the proposition didn’t sit right. “Are you sure? Maybe it is best we go together.”

  Samuel shook his head, determination locking his jaw. “Your place is here.”

  Seth shot a look at Rachel, who sat beside Noelle. She raised her brows and gave a slight shrug, a message that clearly said, Do what you think is best. I support your decision. A trust that should warm him to the core.

  Except this didn’t feel right.

  He turned back to Samuel. “Why don’t we sleep on it and decide tomorrow.”

  “I was planning to head out tomorrow. I’ll leave after I break my fast.”

 
“Tomorrow?” He wanted to grunt in frustration. “Why the rush?”

  Samuel raised a brow, a grin tickling his mouth for the first time. “You want her brother here for the wedding, right?”

  In other words, the sooner he went, the sooner they could be married. He couldn’t disagree with that line of thinking. And it gave him a bit of relief to see that Samuel didn’t seem reticent about him being the first to marry.

  He let out a breath and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “All right. If that’s what you think should happen.” He sent a final look to Rachel to make sure she didn’t have thoughts to add. Her eyes showed simple agreement.

  Easing out a breath, he finally met his brother’s gaze. “I appreciate it. Be careful, though.” Please. He may be adding another important piece to his family, but he couldn’t bear to lose this part of him. His brother. His twin.

  “YOU’RE GOING TO LOVE it, Ma. I promise.”

  Rachel couldn’t help a smile at her son, especially since this was the fourth time he’d said the words since she agreed to go swimming with them. “I hope so.”

  But love might be too much to hope for. She’d settle for tolerate.

  She followed her son out of the cabin and down the porch steps. Noelle’s husband and children were hitching the wagon she and Seth would take to the swimming hole.

  Just then, Seth and Samuel stepped from the barn, Samuel’s horse ambling behind him.

  Saddled and ready to leave.

  A pang pressed her chest at the sight. She hated to make him leave again after they’d just arrived here. Maybe she should go herself instead of asking either of the brothers to attend her errand. Seth would surely hate the idea, and she wasn’t fond of it herself. Not with the reputation for drinking and carousing Fort Hamilton had gained.

  Samuel shook his brother’s hand, then turned and climbed astride his big red gelding in a fluid motion. Both men turned toward her and Andy.

  Samuel offered a grin as he neared. “Enjoy the swim. I’ll be back in a week or so with your brother.”

  She raised a hand to shield her eyes from the sun. “You have the letter I wrote to him?”

  He patted his pack. “Tucked in oilcloth so nothing can hurt it.”

  She smiled her thanks. “I’m sorry to ask this of you, but you have my thanks.”

  His grin tipped more on one side than the other, that same look Seth could accomplish. “I’m glad to see the country.” With a final glance around, he raised his hand in farewell. “See you soon.”

  As his horse found its traveling stride, Rachel turned her gaze to Seth. The man looked almost lost standing alone in the yard, staring out after his brother. She moved to his side and slipped her hand in his. He wove their fingers together and pressed her hand against his leg, as though he needed all the contact he could get just now.

  She studied his profile, the tight line of his jaw. The worry creases at the edge of his eyes. “Are you concerned?”

  He let out a long breath and turned to her. “I don’t know if I am or not. He should be fine, but something doesn’t feel quite right.” Then his face eased into a smile. Not his wide grin, but a real smile, nonetheless. “Now I’m placing him in God’s hands. And we’re all going swimming, right?”

  He turned to Andy. “Did you tell your ma she’s gonna love this? ’Cause we’ll make sure she does.”

  “I did.” Andy nodded in full agreement.

  She couldn’t help but laugh. “I hope this is half as good as you’re both building it up to be.”

  A twinkle lit Seth’s gaze as he slipped an arm around her waist and turned her toward the barn where the sound of children’s voices called to them. “It’ll be better than good.”

  And as she strolled to the barn nestled in Seth’s hold, her son whistling a cheery tune beside her, she couldn’t help sending a silent prayer upward. Thank you, Lord, for bringing me home.

  THE END

  There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear:

  1 John 4:18 (KJV)

  If you enjoyed Seth and Rachel’s story, you won’t want to miss book 6 in the Heart of the Mountains series! This Daring Journey picks up where this book finishes, and tells Samuel’s. Here’s a peek at the beginning!

  Chapter One

  “What hornet’s nest have I stepped into now?”

  ~ Samuel

  LATE AUGUST, 1869

  Near Fort Hamilton, Alberta, Canada

  A shot ripped through the air and Samuel Grant ducked down in his saddle. A reflexive action, because the rifle hadn’t been aimed at him.

  At least, he didn’t think so.

  Still the thud of his pulse accelerated. He must be nearing Henry Clark’s cabin along the Belly River. The man he’d been sent to find. Maybe Clark was hunting.

  Samuel straightened and cupped a hand around his mouth to sound his presence. But another voice broke through before he could call out.

  “Woman, quit yer fire and we’ll not hurt you.” A deep, tobacco-roughened tone called out somewhere in the woods ahead.

  The men at the fort had said Clark built a cabin out here by the river for his wife. Was she being accosted by intruders? Where was Clark?

  Reaching for his Hawken rifle, Samuel slid from his gelding as soundlessly as he could. If Henry Clark or his family were in trouble, surely they’d appreciate help. Another blast echoed as he fastened his horse to a tree. This shot sounded nearer, maybe from where the man’s voice had originated.

  He gave the animal a pat, then turned his focus to the danger.

  Another boom. This one’s reverberation more like the first, both from the location and the model of gun. “I said leave.” The woman’s voice was muffled by trees and distance, but he noticed something of an accent. Slight.

  “You do not hear English?” Her tone held a mocking quality now. “How about French.” She let loose a melodic string of words he couldn’t comprehend. That must be her native tongue, as easily as it flowed.

  The man who was crouched in the woods started to speak again, but the woman’s voice rang out, growing in pitch. Covering whatever he meant to say.

  “Or perhaps you don’t understand French either. Must I speak the language of the dirty redskin for you to hear me?” The way she spat the label made it clear she disliked the ugly moniker.

  Then she spoke in a high-low cadence that caught Samuel’s breath. He couldn’t understand a word—if they were meant to be words—but each syllable rang with such a fluid motion. Only a native speaker could be so comfortable piecing those sounds together. Was she Indian then?

  He crept closer, moving toward her instead of to the right where the men had to be standing. The sound of another rifle shot brought him up short.

  “Did that help you understand, dirty white man? None of my people would act as you have. And now I say again, leave this place.”

  This woman had more spunk than a starving dog fighting for fresh meat. Could she be Clark’s wife? How far had the man gone to hunt? Surely, he’d come to his woman’s defense.

  “You can spout your fancy language all day. It won’t change what we came to do.” The gravelly voice again. It held just enough leer to make Samuel’s gut churn. We meant there was more than one man trying to advance on her. “We’ve got enough fellas to quiet you down for a long time, but things’ll go better if you put your gun on the ground.”

  Samuel shifted his direction toward the men again, tuning his senses to pick-up on any sound they made. As he crept forward, both warring parties fell silent.

  He kept his steps as noiseless as possible, walking on the balls of his feet and straining for any sign of movement through the trees. When he caught sight of a flash of brown, approximately the color of the buckskins most of the men at the fort had worn, he ducked behind a sturdy tree. He needed to get closer so he’d have a good shot, but he’d have to wait until the men were thoroughly distracted.

  A faint rustle sounded from the direction of the attackers, then half a sec
ond later, another shot exploded. A man screamed, filling the air with curses and names no woman should hear, much less be called.

  “There’s more where that came from.” Her clipped words overpowered the man’s mutterings.

  Samuel peeked around the tree. The men were shifting, maybe bringing back the injured man. This was his chance.

  He darted forward to another tree. Closer, with not so many branches encumbering his view. There were four that he could see. Rangy mountain men, just like all the others he’d seen at the fort. Crimson smeared the shoulder of one man whom the others gathered around.

  They were talking in low murmurs so he couldn’t make out what they said. But they must have reached a consensus, for the three uninjured men straightened and raised their rifles. They looked to be planning an attack. If he didn’t act now, things would be much harder soon.

  Positioning his gun, he aimed down the sight at the tree just above one man’s head. Lord, let this do the trick.

  He squeezed the trigger, and the bullet surged toward its target in a deafening blast and a cloud of gunpowder.

  Another shout. More cursing as the men turned to find this new source of danger.

  “Get down.” The one with the most gray in his full beard motioned the others toward a fallen log. The wounded man limped slower than the others, clutching his shoulder.

  “That won’t help you any.” Samuel filled his voice with as much confidence as he could muster. “I have half a dozen men hiding with rifles aimed at you. And five more circling around to your rear.”

  As he motioned toward the trees behind the attackers, he could see the tops of their heads spinning to locate the men he mentioned.

  He pushed his advantage. “You’ll obey the lady’s orders and leave here, or I’ll tell my men to pick you off one by one. It won’t take more than four shots, you can be sure.”

  The older fellow spoke. “We’ve got no trouble with you. That woman’s husband sold us this place. We’ve come to collect.”