Love's Mountain Quest

by Misty M. Beller

  He waved her away, rolling to his side, then shifting to his good knee. She’d seen him perform this maneuver before, and it always tightened her nerves as he kept his injured leg extended, then pushed off with the toes of his good foot and did a hop that brought him upright.

  She moved in closer so he could lean on her if he needed to.

  But he didn’t touch her. Just hopped forward on one foot so he could reach the horse’s saddle. Why wasn’t he letting her help? Men and their silly pride.

  She’d learned with Robert not to get in his way when he was feeling the sting of a bruised ego. She’d worked hard to be Robert’s helpmate and was always hurt when he pushed her aside to nurse his wounded pride. As though her efforts meant so little to him. But one day she’d realized those times of sulking truly had nothing to do with her. The slight was to himself, not to her. As was the case now.

  She held the horse’s head while Isaac pulled himself up into the saddle. The task seemed to be a little easier for him now than those first few times. She could only imagine how muscled his strong arms would feel wrapped around her.

  Although she shouldn’t imagine it. Especially not after he’d just stepped back from their almost-kiss moments before.

  She turned to her own horse and mounted, then reined the animal toward the trail. Samuel needed them. And they’d lost too much time already.

  They’d moved her to Bill’s saddle. Samuel rode with Aaron, perched in between the man’s bound arms. Aaron’s horse was tethered to Rex’s mount, and Nate’s gelding had been tied to Bill’s. Nate, of course, was trussed up tight, a hard set to his jaw every time she caught sight of him.

  Which wasn’t often, though, for riding with Bill kept her every nerve on end. She’d sat with Aaron for so many days now, she’d become immune to his touch. Or maybe he’d simply lost interest in her. Either way, she didn’t feel his hands slide upward along her side the way Bill’s did. Moving much higher than they should.

  She’d tried to pull away, to put more space between them. But his bear-like grip around her tightened, squeezing her injured ribs until light flashed through her eyes. When he finally released her, she struggled to draw shallow breaths. Her lungs craved air, but her chest burned like fire.

  The next time his hands roamed, the moment she tensed, his grip tightened. Not as much as before, but enough that she knew the pain would only increase.

  She bit hard into her lower lip, forcing her mind onto other things.

  By the time they stopped at midday, the first raindrops had begun to fall—the first of many, if the low gray clouds were any indication. The mountain that loomed ahead of them was mostly barren cliffside, with only a few scrappy plants clinging to the crags. Laura hoped they wouldn’t try to cross such a peak on wet rocks. The horses had enough trouble finding secure footing in dry weather.

  As they started up the rocky incline, the horses moved into a single line. Loose rocks littered the path they traveled, and the horses stumbled more than once. There was nothing of a trail that she could see, just random switchbacks as the hill grew ever steeper.

  She clung to the front of the saddle, leaning as far forward as her painful ribs would allow. Bill’s thick chest still pressed on her, no matter how far she leaned.

  Their horse stumbled over stones that tumbled down from the animals ahead, but Bill seemed to know how to help the gelding stay upright. For that, at least, she could be grateful.

  By halfway up the mountain, their horse was drawing in great drafts of air, and she could feel its strain in every step. Every reach of its hooves seemed to take more effort. This incline was too steep for it to carry two riders, especially one as mammoth as the man at her back.

  The animal grunted as it struggled to haul them up onto the jut of a rock, and for a second, the horse teetered halfway up. With a groan, it pulled its rear legs the rest of the way, then stopped. Its sides heaved with each breath. She couldn’t blame the horse. Her heart ached for it.

  Turning her head so the man behind her could hear, she raised her voice over the wind and rain. “This is too much weight for him to carry up the mountain. I’ll walk alongside.”

  The grip around her waist tightened. “You’re not getting off.”

  Did he think she meant to escape? “You can tie me beside the horse if you want, but he can’t carry us both up this incline. Especially with the wet rocks.”

  “Get on.” This time Bill’s bark was aimed at the gelding and accompanied by a heavy jab of both his heels.

  The animal grunted and lunged forward, stiff-legged from its resting position. Laura clutched the saddle and sent another prayer upward. If they made it over this peak, she would drop to her knees on solid ground and speak a heartfelt thanksgiving.

  A yell sounded behind. Nay—more like a scream.

  She spun to look but couldn’t see anything around Bill’s massive frame. He turned, also, and for a second, it felt as if they were falling. The horse scrambled sideways to catch its footing.

  Laura jerked the other direction to help balance their weight, anything to keep from toppling down the rocky cliff they’d just climbed. Their horse stumbled, and Bill clutched tighter around Laura. He now leaned the other way, as though he realized they had to do everything possible to keep the animal from tumbling down the mountain.

  But the cliff was too steep. The rocks too slippery. The horse’s balance too far gone.

  She felt herself falling backward, clutching tight to the saddle, unable to dismount or move at all for the viselike grip around her waist. Then something pushed her forward, as though a mighty hand shoved Bill from behind. Together they rolled to the right, away from the falling horse.

  THIRTEEN

  Laura’s shoulder hit the ground hard, but then she was hauled backward as the giant clutching her rolled onto his back. She couldn’t breathe, especially lying faceup with the bear-man’s giant paw pressing down on her broken ribs.

  She clawed at his arm, fighting to turn to her side. Any position where her chest could draw breath.

  At last, the clutch around her loosened. She scrambled onto her hands and knees, pebbles pressing into her palms. She inhaled deeply, but the pain that plunged like a knife in her side nearly jerked her arms out from under her.

  A shallower breath this time. Then another. Her chest finally filled one gasp at a time, releasing the awful pressure that had almost strangled her. Rain ran down her face, pasting wet tendrils of hair to her face. She pressed her eyes closed against the water.

  At last she raised her head. She didn’t dare lift a hand to wipe the rain from her eyes, for she needed every bit of stability her shaking arms could offer.

  With the rain still pelting down and the sound of her own breathing loud in her ears, she almost missed the groaning coming from behind her and the clattering of boots and hooves against rock.

  She glanced up the mountain, the easiest place to look from her current position. Nate stood on the ground, holding his and Aaron’s horses, even though his wrists were still tied. Samuel pressed against his leg. Safe, thank the Lord. That was probably fear in Samuel’s eyes, but she couldn’t see well with rain blurring her vision.

  She worked herself up to sit on her heels, brushing her hands against her skirts to clear the dirt pressed in her skin.

  A cry from below grabbed her attention. Not that of a man, but high pitched. Like a horse in distress.

  She spun, but the quick movement sent a shot of dizziness through her head. She reached out to steady herself on a rock that jutted up beside her. As the world stopped whirling, she was able to focus on the sight below.

  Bill bent over a figure on the mountainside. Rex, from the dark color of his hair. The cad was propped up on an elbow, which meant he hadn’t died. As much as she wanted him out of the way, the thought of any human losing their life on this mountainside made her roiling midsection churn harder.

  Rex’s horse shuffled uneasily on the incline, and at first that was all she could see.
But then Aaron appeared behind the animal, walking backward. Pulling something.

  That cry of distress sounded again, and in that instant, a wash of understanding sank through her.

  Bill’s horse.

  The animal had been struggling to keep its footing when she and Bill fell off on the uphill side. Had their tumble knocked the horse in the opposite direction? Oh, God, help it.

  With one hand gripping the rock beside her, she pushed up to her feet. That poor horse had struggled so hard to carry them up the mountain. She couldn’t let it die for its efforts.

  Dizziness spun her vision, but not as much as before. Only a few seconds passed before she could see clearly enough to start down the hill.

  She passed by Bill and Rex, who seemed to be examining Rex’s leg. Maybe he’d broken it. She couldn’t summon too much sympathy for his pain.

  Aaron’s voice sounded even before she slipped past Rex’s horse, which had blocked her view of the injured mount.

  When she saw the animal, lying beside a boulder almost as tall as she was, her chest squeezed tight. The horse’s legs straddled the base of the massive stone, making it impossible for the gelding to rise.

  Aaron pulled on the reins and the horse gave an admirable effort, scrambling and pawing at the stone, but its hooves couldn’t find purchase with its legs bent like that. Oh, Lord, don’t let any of its limbs be broken.

  The animal’s movement revealed blood covering the boulder where the horse’s belly pressed against it. Bile pressed against the back of her throat, and she had to look away to settle the contents of her stomach. This was no time to be weak. That horse needed help.

  She stumbled forward. “He can’t get up on his own. Help me slide him away from that boulder.”

  She’d spent most of her growing-up years around horses, and had helped rescue more than one animal who’d been cast against the wall of a stall. The horses would fight until they did permanent damage to themselves unless they were rescued first.

  She moved to the gelding’s hindquarters and leveraged her bound hands beneath him. With everything in her she pushed the horse, clenching her teeth against the shooting pain in her ribs. Her boots slipped on the wet rocks and she couldn’t find solid purchase, but she did manage to shift the horse a tiny bit.

  When she eased up to catch her breath, the agony in her side made it almost impossible to draw air. She forced herself to take slow, shallow inhales. The animal scrambled again to stand, but she’d not been able to move it far enough away from the boulder.

  She motioned for Aaron. “We can probably move him if we’re both pushing.” Two people could pull a horse away from a stall wall; but on this steep incline, their work would be so much harder. And her side may not let her put in the effort she needed to.

  Aaron finally moved around to her, taking up the position she’d just used where he would have the best angle to push. He heaved against the horse, his face turning red with strain, the tendons in his neck bulging.

  Laura scrambled to help, digging the heels of her hands into the horse’s warm hide, pushing with everything she had, squeezing her eyes shut against the pain in her ribs. Her feet braced against a solid stone, and she could feel the gelding’s body inch up as they heaved.

  They were making progress, but she didn’t dare let up to celebrate. Not until Aaron stopped.

  At last, he eased back with a groan. The moment he stopped pushing, the horse scrambled again, trying to regain its footing. The back legs were free now, but a jut of the boulder pressed into the animal’s belly, just behind its front legs. They’d have to work on its front end before the gelding would be able to rise.

  Laura shifted around to the horse’s head and lowered to her knees, holding her side to keep the pain from shooting through her body. “Easy, boy. We’ll get you out.” She stroked the animal’s neck. Its wide eyes regarded her with fear as it lay flat against the hard stone. How much agony was the horse in?

  They wouldn’t know for sure if any legs were broken until the animal stood, and she could only pray the blood stemmed from a surface wound.

  “Let me through.” Aaron had moved up behind her to work on the horse’s front end. There wasn’t much room to move with the boulder looming behind them. Only enough for one person to push.

  She shifted to the side, but that still didn’t give Aaron enough access, so she scooted all the way around so she was above the horse on the mountain. Maybe she could help at least a little by pulling.

  Aaron braced his feet and pushed again. His face turned as red as the blood coating the rock, and the thick cords in his neck rose up again. His mouth spread wide to reveal clenched teeth as every part of him strained.

  The horse slid up the hill, away from the boulder. Maybe enough to allow room to stand. Or maybe not yet.

  Aaron stopped for a breath and adjusted his position, the ties around his wrists making things awkward. Then he was back into the effort, heaving with everything he had.

  The gelding scooted farther up the mountain. Definitely far enough this time.

  “That’s enough.” She pushed to her feet as Aaron collapsed into an exhausted heap.

  He was lying just behind the horse’s front legs, and the animal was already trying to stand again.

  “Get back. Watch out.” She dropped back down to press a knee onto the horse’s neck to still it as Aaron rolled his weary body away from the animal.

  At last he was on his feet and far enough back. She stood and gave the horse’s neck a pat. “All right, boy. Up now.”

  The horse struggled to get its legs underneath it, its efforts almost as if it still thought its belly was pressed against the boulder. Laura grabbed the reins and pulled the horse’s head, drawing it onto its belly to get its legs underneath it.

  That was what the animal needed, and it released a loud groan as it pulled itself up to standing.

  “Good boy. Good fella.” She rubbed the gelding’s neck, using a vigorous stroke to bring the horse back to life. Her gaze slid to its belly, but she couldn’t see the wound from the left side.

  Aaron still stood by the boulder, leaning against it as his chest heaved.

  She moved around to the horse’s other side and had to bend low to see the blood matting its coat, just behind the girth that held the saddle in place.

  The strap had shifted farther forward than usual, and blood dripped from a raw patch of skin where the horse had struggled against the boulder.

  “We need to get this saddle off.” She stroked the horse’s shoulder, then glanced around at the others. Nate still kept Samuel away from the danger, holding the two horses farther up the mountain.

  Bill had risen from Rex’s side and now held his rifle pointed at her. “Nate, bring those horses down the mountain. The boy, too.”

  Relief sank through her. She couldn’t even see the peak of the mountain now that a low cloud covered the top. But this horse needed its saddle removed and the wound cleaned.

  And maybe their captors were as miserable in the rain as she was. Maybe Rex’s injuries had eased a bit of his wicked control.

  That last thought filled her with a tiny bit of hope. Perhaps this night would give them a second chance to escape.

  FOURTEEN

  Rex wants you to tend his leg.”

  Laura jerked her gaze up from the bed she was making for Samuel. The steady patter of rain on the trees around them had drowned out Bill’s approach. Having the man loom above her now made her want to cower.

  But his request tightened the pressure inside her even more. Tend Rex’s wound? She’d rather give him a few more injuries.

  From the glances she’d snatched as they were setting up camp, the man was quite conscious. The thought of touching him made her want to spew what little she ate for lunch all over this oaf’s boots.

  “Just so we’re clear . . . this is not a request.” The growl in Bill’s tone finished the thought for him. It’s an order.

  She inhaled a steadying breath. The pain p
iercing her side with the action only reminded her just how heavy-handed the brute standing over her could be.

  Turning to Samuel, she patted the blanket she’d just laid out. “Lie down and rest, honey. I’ll be back soon.”

  Without giving Bill the respect of acknowledgment, she rose and walked toward Rex, who’d stretched out with his upper body propped on a saddle and a blanket. With Bill’s behemoth presence behind her and Rex’s leering gaze watching her approach, she may as well be a lamb herded to the slaughter. God, protect me.

  When she reached Rex, she intentionally ignored his icy stare, focusing instead on his leg as she stood over him. His trousers were ripped in a diagonal line spanning from the outside of his hip, across the top of the leg, to the inside of the knee. Through the tear, she could see a fair amount of bloody flesh.

  She’d have to kneel beside him for a closer inspection, but she couldn’t quite make herself drop to his side. That seemed too familiar. Maybe even subservient.

  “Come closer. I’d much rather have you tend me than Bill.” Even if the words had been innocent—which they weren’t—the slimy tone and lustfulness in Rex’s gaze would push her away.

  She stepped back, but a hard poke in her side stilled her instantly. That round solidity could only be the business end of a gun. She’d have to do this.

  Clamping her jaw to hold in something she shouldn’t say, she dropped to her knees beside the man. Her wrists were still bound, but she used the tips of two fingers to pull aside a bloody edge of the torn trousers so she could peer at the wound.

  “Bill thinks it needs stitched. I’m sure your handwork’ll be prettier than his.”

  Yes, that gash was deep enough it would require a seam to heal correctly. She’d never sewn human flesh. Horses yes, but not a wound on a man.

  Still, maybe jabbing a needle into his sorry hide would be a pleasure.

  She straightened and leaned back on her heels, nodding without looking anywhere near the man’s face. “It would heal best with stitches. I can’t do them with my hands tied.”