Love's Mountain Quest

by Misty M. Beller

  As she hoisted the saddle on the first horse, her eye caught movement from the direction of the fire. Isaac was up, hobbling toward her with only his walking stick for aid.

  Which meant he had to put at least some pressure on the broken bone. His face was a mask of determination, almost enough to cover the pain from the effort.

  She left the saddle and strode toward him. “What are you doing up?” When she reached him, she tried to duck her shoulder under his arm for support, as they’d done dozens of times.

  But he shook her off. “I can do it. You don’t have to worry over me.”

  A spurt of annoyance charged through her. “Isaac, let me finish saddling them first, then I’ll bring your gelding over so you can mount.”

  “I can help.” His words were almost a growl, just like those wolves from the night before.

  Stubborn man. This would go easier if he just let her do the work.

  But maybe he needed to help. To feel useful. She could certainly relate to that. The Lord well knew how hard it was for her to sit on her own hands when she was worried and there was work to be done.

  “All right.” She stepped away, but just enough to give him a little space—not so far she couldn’t grab him if he started to topple. She couldn’t help adding, “Be careful.”

  He’d come to mean more to her than she’d ever expected. More than she should have allowed. And she wasn’t quite sure her heart could manage seeing him hurt again, especially not with all the other worries stringing her nerves tight.

  Once he made it to his gelding, he did seem to be steady on his feet as he tightened the cinch and readied the animal. She moved to the other gelding, the one she’d been riding, and did the same.

  By the time she was finished, Isaac was speaking softly to the mare as he strapped on the packsaddle. Joanna brought the lighter pack for him to load, while she divided the other supplies and fastened them behind the riding saddles.

  When she finished, she finally turned her attention to the cup of coffee that had been calling her name. Not that she needed the brew to wake her up anymore, but she had a feeling she’d need extra fortitude for what this day might bring.

  They may not catch up with the kidnappers today, since she and Isaac were moving a different direction toward town now. But, Lord willing, they’d find help. Then tomorrow she would have her boy back in her arms.

  Isaac’s low voice still hummed from where he stood beside the mare, and she marched over to help him finish.

  They had to get on the trail. Not even one moment could be wasted. Her son’s safety hung in the balance.

  Today would be the day. She’d given up hoping that whoever Joanna sent to rescue them would come in time. She would have to find her own way for them to escape.

  Laura tucked her legs tighter into her chest as she watched the men working through their morning chores around the camp. After Bill finished rekindling the fire, she’d seen Aaron motion him over. The two had spoken in low tones for a minute, then Bill shuffled over to Rex. A scowl on the injured man’s face had finally given way to a nod. Moments later, Bill cut Aaron free, then shuffled toward where they’d staked out the horses. Aaron set to work on the morning meal.

  Rex hadn’t risen to help but instead sat sullenly with arms crossed and a rifle in his lap, watching the others work. She didn’t let her gaze stray toward him often, but she could feel every time the burn of his glare seared through her filthy, tattered dress.

  So many times the men had mentioned that none of them were to touch her until they reached their destination, the cabin they sometimes called a hideout.

  Now they expected to arrive there tonight. Her blanket of protection would be ripped off, leaving her at their mercy unless she could find a way to escape first.

  Perhaps Rex would still be too injured to ride today. Maybe they’d put off traveling for another night, or go so slowly that they wouldn’t reach the cabin until tomorrow. Every day she could delay them, the better.

  But better for what? If she didn’t find a way for her and Samuel to escape, a delay would only shift the inevitable. She couldn’t rely on the men to have a sudden change of heart where she was concerned. Not with the lust swimming in Rex’s eyes. Bill’s, too.

  She pulled her legs in tighter, wishing she could wrap her arms around herself, too. But she and Samuel were both still tied to a tree, as they were every night.

  A half hour later, Bill moved toward them, two steaming bowls in his hands. He sank to his haunches in front of them and set the tin cups on the ground. Then he pulled his knife from its sheath and reached for the rope that fastened her to the tree. “You get a minute at the tree before you eat.” He sliced easily through the ragged cord that had been cut and retied too many times.

  Samuel lay curled like a groggy caterpillar as Bill pulled her to her feet. The boy’s fever was mostly gone, although he seemed more tired than usual. But, Lord willing, the worst was over. Hopefully, the boy would be strong enough for whatever escape she could find.

  And it had to happen today.

  While they walked toward one of the wider trees, she used the opportunity to brave a question. “Will we be riding again today?”

  He glanced at her before turning back to their path to maneuver over a thick root. “Looks like it. You’ll be with me. Aaron will have the boy.” Was his horse recovered enough to carry a saddle? The poor animal.

  They reached the tree, and she quickly accomplished her morning ministrations. All the while, her mind worked through possibilities for escape. She could find a way if it was just herself—when they took her for a quiet moment at the noon stop, behind whatever tree or brush could be found—but she and the boy were never allowed that liberty at the same time. And she couldn’t leave him behind.

  Even if she snuck away and they weren’t cruel to Samuel, they’d probably tighten their security around him. She’d never be able to sneak close enough to free him without being recaptured herself. And her lot would be ten times worse if that happened.

  Maybe Aaron could help her get away with Samuel. He’d not shown willingness to aid them before, but then . . . she hadn’t asked.

  If she gave Aaron warning of her plans and asked for his help, would he try to stop her? Lord, what do I do? Did she dare take a chance? They were so closely guarded, she’d need help to create an opportunity.

  There was no other way. Not without divine intervention.

  EIGHTEEN

  The men started on the trail at least an hour later than usual. And while Laura was thankful for every extra minute of reprieve, anticipation for what she had to accomplish at their noon stop had her nerves so edgy she could barely keep herself still.

  But she had to. She couldn’t give any sign that today was different than the last seven she’d endured.

  At last, the horses were saddled and all of them were mounted. Bill’s hands seemed to wander even more today than before. His grip tighter.

  Finally, he raised his hand for a halt. “We’ll stop and eat a bite.”

  They were on the side of what must be a small mountain, with a gradual upward slope covered in grass. A few rocks poked through the weeds, and the occasional cluster of bushes and trees dotted the hillside. No woods near them, though, only a boulder just large enough for a man to sit on.

  As they all dismounted, Rex headed straight for that stone, easing himself down with a grimace. His hair had lost its neat, every-strand-in-place look, and pain lines around his eyes made him appear a dozen years older than before. In truth, she’d never seen him so disheveled.

  Yet he’d not lost the hardness in his crystal blue eyes. As he sat on the boulder, legs extended in front of him, he had the perfect vantage point to study every move she made.

  After the first couple times of meeting that icy gaze, she was careful not to look his way again. She stood with Samuel pressed against her side, watching as Aaron pulled the food pack from behind his saddle and secured the horses where they could graze. Bill wa
lked a few strides away and relieved himself, barely even turning his back to them.

  She looked away quickly. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t seen her brothers do as lads, but heat flamed to her face. Especially when she accidentally caught Rex’s gaze. The twisted smile on his face told her he’d seen every bit of her reaction.

  Vile man.

  Aaron ambled back toward them after finishing with the horses. “Since the trees are a fair piece away, I can take you both at the same time for a bit of privacy.” His words and demeanor were as laid back as she’d ever seen him, and it took everything in her not to jerk her gaze to his face. Instead, she sent her focus to the trees he must be talking about, trying to look as casual as he did.

  “Let Bill do it.” Rex’s tone sounded as sharp as a knife blade, and as hard as the stone he sat on.

  Aaron raised his brows at the man. “You think I’m not capable?”

  “Capable maybe, but not trustworthy.” Rex spat the words as Bill clomped toward her with his big bear-like feet.

  “Maybe we should both take them.” Aaron’s voice had dropped now, losing all hint of calm. “They may overpower you, Bill, and I’ll need to be there to protect you.”

  What was he doing? Was he trying to help them? Or merely causing a stir? Surely he didn’t plan to take Bill down himself. And with all these comments about them possibly getting away, the burly man would be on his keenest guard.

  Bill shrugged. “I can take on all four of you if I need to.”

  “Aaron, you get the food ready. Bill, take them and be quick about it.” Rex’s tone brooked no argument.

  “Start walkin’.” Bill jabbed a massive finger in her back, pushing her forward.

  With Samuel pressed close to her, they walked around the hillside toward a cluster of five or six trees, mostly pine and aspen, with a few bushes interspersed around the base. She couldn’t see much beyond the foliage. Would there be a place she and Samuel could run to? Did Nate have a plan in mind? Unless he intended to run with them—which seemed unlikely—she couldn’t imagine how he could help without risking his own life.

  When they reached the trees, Bill pulled a pistol from his waistband and used it to motion her toward a thick bush growing at the base of a tree. “Go behind that one, but keep your head where I can see ya. Boy, you just take care of your business here.” He motioned in the general area where they stood.

  Laura bit down the humiliation of what she was being forced to do in front of men who were no relation. She’d managed to keep from exposing herself so far, but just the fact that they knew what she was doing was enough to send heat into her cheeks every time.

  The hatred simmering in her chest was unlike any she’d ever felt before, and each insult and injury and lustful gaze added another log to her internal fire.

  As she stepped around behind the bush, a glimmer of metal shone up at her. She blinked. That couldn’t be what it looked like.

  A quick glance up at the men showed Nate looking at her intensely. Had he planted a pistol back here? How?

  She didn’t have time to worry about that now. Dropping to her knees, she grabbed the gun and checked the chamber. Growing up on a farm, she was familiar with most mechanisms, and this looked to be a simple revolver. One of her brothers would have known what model, but she didn’t care as long as its aim was true.

  “I said keep your head up.” Bill’s harsh command made her jump.

  Settle down, Hannon. He’ll know you’re up to something. She gave him a quick nod, then rustled her skirts loud enough that he could hear the fabric. She’d have to point the gun at Bill. Be willing to actually kill him should he advance. God, help me.

  And from what she’d seen of this man, he probably would charge toward her, thinking she didn’t have the backbone to shoot him.

  But she would. She would pull the trigger. Maybe she’d aim at a shoulder or something not life-threatening. A leg would be best so he couldn’t run after her, but she wasn’t sure her aim was that accurate. Maybe at close range, but she’d only have one chance.

  She turned, still trying to make it look like she was attending to personal matters. But she glanced out of the corner of her eye to study the landscape behind them. More clusters of rocks sprang up from the open land, some large enough she and Samuel could hide behind. But there was no way to reach them without being seen.

  She really needed to get a horse. The animals were tied partway between her and the camp. If she took Bill down—including his gun hand—she could charge toward the animals and jump on a horse. If she could keep the animals between her and the camp, maybe the others wouldn’t get a clear shot. Mounting the animal would be tricky with her wrists tied, but she would accomplish it somehow. Then she could ride back to these trees and swoop Samuel up.

  Was she prepared to risk her life for this venture? If she were killed, what would happen to Samuel? Her heart thudded in her throat.

  She had to pull this off. Lord, help me.

  “Hurry up, woman.” Bill’s voice sounded edgy, and she darted a glance at him. He was staring at her, the pistol held loosely in his right hand, lowered brows showing more than a little suspicion. His gun was pointed in her general direction, but not fully at her.

  Inhaling a deep breath, she gripped her revolver in both hands to help her aim, then rose. She pointed the weapon at Bill’s chest. “Drop your gun.”

  His eyes narrowed even more, and the grip on his pistol tightened. “Where did you get that?” He shifted a little so he could see both her and Nate without turning.

  She didn’t dare take her eyes from Bill to see what Nate was doing. “Drop that gun or I’ll shoot. And my aim is good.” She made her voice as menacing as she could. Hopefully he didn’t hear the tremor she was trying to hide. If she could just keep her mind on what they planned to do with her, anger would take over, dissolving any nervousness.

  A half-grin parted his ugly mouth. “You might know how to aim, but you won’t shoot me. Pretty thing like you don’t have it in you.” His gaze darted to Nate for half a heartbeat. “And I’m assumin’ Nate here gave you the pistol, although I’m not sure how he managed to hide it. But if he tries anything, you’ll be the first one I shoot. Then the boy.” All humor fled from his smile.

  She inhaled a steadying breath. “This is your last chance. Drop your gun or I’ll put a bullet through your chest.” The chest might be the only way to keep him from going after her. Would a pistol shot be enough to kill him?

  He took a step forward, every part of his ogre face turning menacing.

  She gripped the gun tighter, shifted her aim a little higher to his right shoulder, and pulled the trigger.

  Everything exploded at once.

  Gunpowder clouded around her. Samuel screamed. The flash of Nate’s blue shirt marked the corner of her vision.

  Another gunshot.

  A blow struck her. A body. Knocking her back and sideways. Pulling her down.

  Then all turned silent.

  The acrid odor of burnt powder seared her nose. A weight pressed down on her chest, locking her right arm. She’d squeezed her eyes shut, but a pain gradually taking over her left arm meant she had to force her eyes open.

  The weight on her chest shifted, and she finally pressed her lids open to see Nate moving off of her. He must have lunged at her, knocking her down and landing partially on her right arm. One of his legs was still hooked in the bush he’d flown over.

  A shuffling sounded from the other side of the foliage. A groan. Then crying.

  Samuel. She pushed herself upright. If Bill was still alive, he would hurt the boy. Either way, the lad must be terrified.

  The pain in her left arm sharpened as she raised that limb, and she couldn’t help sucking in a breath at a particularly sharp stab.

  “Are you hurt?” Nate now knelt beside her, his voice a whisper at her ear.

  She glanced at the arm, where a dark stain was spreading over her sleeve. The limb burned like a torch was being held a
gainst the skin, but the bullet must have only creased the outside without embedding in her flesh.

  Her stomach churned at the sight, but she couldn’t let it slow her down. She had to check Samuel. And if Bill’s wound was mortal, she and the boy had to get out of there fast.

  But she knew the other two would come running at the gunfire. She may have already lost her chance to get to a horse.

  Scrambling up to her knees, she peered over the bush to check Bill before she stood completely.

  The sight before her gripped her chest, stilling every part of her. She was vaguely aware of Nate beside her, doing the same.

  Bill sat on the ground, legs splayed in front of him. Samuel lay across his lap with Bill’s beefy arm wrapped around the boy’s neck. The lad’s red-rimmed eyes had grown impossibly round, filling half his face.

  And she didn’t blame him with the barrel of a pistol pressed to his temple.

  “Let the boy go, Bill.” Nate’s voice barely penetrated her shock at first. But then from the corner of her eye, she saw him slowly rise, hands out in front of him.

  “You throw that pistol over here.” Bill spoke to her. “And any other weapons you both have. Knives, everything.” His gaze cut to Nate with clear meaning.

  “I don’t have anything else.” Nate’s jaw hardened.

  “No knives?” Bill narrowed his gaze.

  “Nothing.”

  Bill studied him another moment, then turned his focus to Laura. “Stand up real slow and throw your gun over there. If you even flinch, I’ll end his life here and now. He won’t be the first mouthy kid I’ve put a bullet in, and I doubt he’ll be the last.”

  The lethal expression on Bill’s face left her with no doubt he’d do just what he said. Bile churned in her middle, rising into her throat so she could barely keep from casting up her accounts. Dear God, keep him safe from this madman.

  NINETEEN

  Laura forced herself to take a breath, then answer so this crazed man would know she planned to comply. “I’ll do exactly what you say, just don’t hurt the boy.” If he injured Samuel because of her actions, she’d never be able to live with herself. And Joanna . . .