Love's Mountain Quest

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Love's Mountain Quest Page 15

by Misty M. Beller


  At last, she stepped from the woods. A wall of rock rose up in front of her, blocking them as far as she could tell. Bill and Samuel emerged from the trees behind her, and she turned to make sure the boy hadn’t been injured or scared out of his wits by the darkness. Samuel’s mouth was clamped shut in a tight line, his pale face almost glowing. But he looked more resigned than terrified. Her chest squeezed tighter, yet he was holding up so much better than she would have expected.

  “There’s a sideways opening in the rock over there.” Bill nodded toward a shadow in the stone. “Go through it.”

  She shuffled that direction, and when she reached the spot, there was indeed a crack that turned to the left, wide enough for a person to walk through. She stepped into the opening, rock rising high on either side of her for a few strides until it opened into a grassy clearing. The darkness made it hard to tell for sure, but the clearing looked to be guarded by stone walls on either side. Like a hidden garden, tucked away so no one would ever discover it.

  “Now into the cabin.”

  Bill’s voice jolted her forward. Through the darkness ahead, she could just make out a form that could be a cabin. And as she neared, the shape became clearer. A smallish structure with no windows, and only a single door in the center of the front. The cabin seemed to be built into the rock behind it, a sheer mountain that rose as far up as she could see in the darkness.

  Foreboding settled deeper in her chest as she neared the door. That door would seal her fate. Maybe the men were too exhausted to carry out their plans for her tonight, but it would happen tomorrow. And once she stepped into that cabin, she’d be trapped. With no view of the open air. No chance of slipping away.

  She stopped at the door, her throat closing so she could no longer draw breath. Her hands wouldn’t lift to push the wood open.

  “What are you waiting for? Get in there.” Bill’s growl had sunk lower. Deeper.

  She didn’t dare anger him while he had a rifle pointed at Samuel. Especially with the gun cocked and ready to fire, even by accident.

  Raising her hands to push the door open took every bit of her inner strength. A light shone from inside as the partition creaked inward. Not a bright welcoming glow, just a dim pushing back of the darkness.

  As she took the first step in, she struggled to make out the jumble of objects laying around the room. On the left wall in front of a small hearth and along the back lay scattered piles of furs and lumps of blankets—or maybe those were clothes.

  The lamp sat in a corner on the far right, illuminating Nate’s broad shoulders as he worked with his back to them. There were crates stacked in each corner, and he was pulling items from the one on top.

  “Put the chit over there on Nate’s bed, and the boy in that front corner.” Rex’s voice jerked her focus back to the left. She’d not seen him stretched out on one of the stacks of furs.

  “You heard him, boy. Sit yourself over there.” Bill pushed Samuel toward the front corner and sent him sprawling forward with a shove.

  She barely held in her cry as the lad toppled over. But a small pile of blankets broke his fall. Samuel scrambled into the corner and turned to sit with his back against the wall, curling into himself as he looked out at them.

  When was the last time she’d heard him speak? He hadn’t complained through any of the afternoon’s events. In fact, she couldn’t remember a sound from him since the soft crying when the guns had fired during her failed attempt to escape at midday.

  The weight on her chest pressed harder. Lord, help us. Why would you make such a sweet boy endure this?

  Bill turned on her, pointing his rifle straight at her chest. “Now you sit on those furs over yonder.” He motioned toward the middle of the back wall. She turned and found the stack easily enough, then sank down onto it, holding her breath against the pain in her ribs.

  The pile was surprisingly comfortable, pulling her into its softness like warm blankets. Not that she’d curl up and sleep. She didn’t even scoot back against the wall, just sat at the edge. She had to be ready for whatever they planned to do next.

  She may be at an extreme disadvantage, but she wouldn’t go down without a fight.

  “Now tie their feet up tight. It’s too late to do anything with them tonight. I plan to enjoy my time with her tomorrow. Then I’ll let you at her.” Rex’s languid tone turned sharp. “Nate, where’s that food? Don’t think dawdling is going to get you out of anything.”

  Nate turned from his work near the far wall and carried a plate forward to Rex. She couldn’t tell what it was in the dim lighting, but just the mention of food raised a growl from her midsection. Would they be fed at all tonight? As content as she’d be if the men forgot she and Samuel existed, the boy was looking gaunt from so many days with limited food. Hunger had a way of stealing her strength, too.

  And she would need everything she had to face tomorrow.

  TWENTY-ONE

  The farther they rode, the more Joanna’s anger simmered.

  How could she have misjudged Isaac so badly? From the moment she met him six months before, he’d been a pillar of strength, filling her with the sense that she was safe with him. That his integrity was a core part of his nature.

  Now to learn that he’d started a gang of thieves?

  And not just any gang. The very group who kidnapped her son and friend, and were likely tormenting them even now. Sure, he may not have ever meant for the thievery to turn to kidnapping and harsher crimes, but he was forever connected to them through his past actions. She wouldn’t be able to forget that. And only by God’s strength would she ever be able to forgive him for it.

  Was he helping her now simply to atone for his past? Maybe he didn’t truly care about her or Samuel after all. At least, not the way she’d come to believe that he’d cared.

  But there was no time to focus on that now. Dusk was quickly fading into darkness as they rounded the side of the last mountain standing between them and the little town of River Crossing.

  A few lights glimmered in the distance, outlined by the shadows of buildings. She nudged her horse faster. Almost there. If this rocky ground weren’t so dangerous in the dark, she would have pushed the animals into a canter.

  There, up ahead, was the help they needed to free her boy and Laura. Did Isaac know anyone here? Or, maybe the better question was, did any of them know him by reputation? The last thing they needed was for the men of the town to imprison him for his past crimes.

  Perhaps she needed to ask him that question, or at least ask how he intended to summon help. She couldn’t blindly rely on him to handle the situation.

  Reining her horse to the side, she motioned for him to ride up next to her. She couldn’t bring herself to slow her mount, so he would simply need to catch up.

  When he pulled abreast, she glanced over at him, forcing her anger not to sound in her tone. “Do you know people here? Or how do you plan to gather help?”

  “I’ve met the livery owner and the man who runs the mercantile. It’s been a while, so I’m not sure they’ll remember me. I was planning to start at the barn, tell him what we’re up against, then see what he recommends. I remember thinking he seemed like a good sort of man.”

  “Will he be there this time of night?” As late as the sun set during these summer months, it must be well past nine o’clock.

  “Best I remember, he had a little house in the back of the barn. I imagine we can find him. If not, we’ll see who else we can roust. It’s a small community, so it shouldn’t be hard to find people.”

  All right, then. Lord willing, in just a few hours, they’d be headed up to the gang’s hideout to free her son. She sent another prayer heavenward and pushed her gelding faster.

  Isaac was right about River Crossing being a small town. As they rode through what looked to be one of only a couple of streets, lights winked from many of the buildings, either through windows or around doorframes. Glass was so hard to come by this far into the mountain country. And the
cost to get it here could easily cover food supplies for an entire family for at least half a year.

  “There’s the livery.” Isaac pointed to a building ahead on their right. The wide doors were closed, but he reined in his horse in front of them. “I’ll ride around behind the barn and check the house. Be back shortly.”

  “I’ll come with you.” She still wasn’t ready to leave this mission in his hands. Not even this small part. Besides, what if he couldn’t summon the man from atop his horse? She’d need to dismount and knock.

  Isaac didn’t object, just steered his horse toward a well-worn path leading around the side of the building. Her gelding didn’t require much encouragement to follow. These horses had traveled an incredible distance together this past week alone. All three of the animals hung weary heads, but at least they were still able to keep moving. Even the injured mare, although she’d needed prodding these last few hours.

  You’ll get to rest soon, girl. Joanna would need to make restitution for the mare’s wounds once they made it back to the livery in Settler’s Fort. Hopefully the owner there would be understanding.

  “Hello, in the house,” Isaac called out as soon as they rounded the rear of the stable. The “house” didn’t stand on its own as she’d expected, but looked to be rooms built onto the back of the stable. Flowers lined either side of the door, a sign there was likely a woman somewhere on the premises.

  A muffled voice sounded from inside, then a moment later the door opened. The man was pulling his shoulder braces up over blue shirtsleeves as he stepped out on the stoop. “Lookin’ for a meal and a bed for your horses?”

  The livery owner’s gaze shifted to Joanna and the widening of his eyes was clear even in the darkness. He slipped a hand behind him to tuck in the tail of his shirt, then straightened and squared his shoulders, turning his focus back to Isaac.

  “Yes, sir,” Isaac answered. “The animals are tired and hungry, and the mare has wounds from a wolf that need tended. But we have a more important matter to take care of first.”

  As Isaac told their story in a few succinct details, the man’s face hardened. He crossed his arms over his chest while he listened, then the moment Isaac finished, he spun and motioned toward the path around to the front of the livery. “Bring your horses around to the front. I’ll spread the word first so men can be gathering, then see to your animals.” He pivoted to look at them as he continued walking. “Mrs. Holder lets out rooms, so I’ll tell her to make a place ready for you, ma’am.”

  “No need, sir.” As wonderful as a clean room with a real bed sounded, she wasn’t about to step back while the men took over the hunt for her son.

  “Once you gather some men, we’ll all put together a plan.” Isaac’s voice filled the space between them, its firm tone deciding the matter solidly. And the way he emphasized all made her want to hug him.

  Not that she would. Ever again.

  She pushed back the wayward memories of his arms around her, holding her tight in his protective strength.

  They rounded the front of the stable, and the owner stepped to her horse’s side, apparently to help her down. She motioned him back. “Help Isaac. His leg is broken. I can see to the animals while you start gathering men.”

  He backed away uncertainly, but when she dismounted, he seemed to finally decide she was capable.

  Isaac had already slid to the ground, and he stood by his gelding’s side, holding to the saddle for support. Would he mind this stranger helping him hobble into the barn? He’d been trying to be as independent as possible lately, but there were times he simply needed to accept aid. Everyone needed assistance at one time or another.

  She led her gelding and the packhorse into the barn, and the owner called after her. “They can go in the first stalls on the left and right, ma’am.”

  After Joanna pulled the packsaddle from the mare, the weary horse limped into the small enclosure. It only took a moment for her to find the hay tucked in a corner, and the sounds of contended crunching drifted behind Joanna as she closed the door.

  Isaac stood with his horse in the hallway near the front of the barn. The livery owner must have taken her at her word and gone to gather men, for he was nowhere to be seen.

  She walked over to Isaac. “Should we leave the geldings saddled? Do you think they’ll get enough men together to ride out tonight?”

  The lantern hanging by the front doors gave her a shadowed view of Isaac’s face. He turned to her, and the weary lines around his eyes were hard to miss. Her chest squeezed at the sight, even though she wanted to feel no sympathy for this man.

  “I think we’d be inviting trouble to ride up that mountain in the dark. The gang will hear us coming and we’ll lose our chance of surprise, which is our best opportunity. I think the wisest move would be to head out at first light.” His voice seemed to sag the more he spoke. “Besides, these boys need a break. I’m sure there are other horses here we can use.”

  What was she doing, making this man trek even farther up the mountains with her? With his broken leg, he should be in bed under a doctor’s care.

  But she wasn’t sure she could do this without him.

  Stepping close enough to see the dark green of his eyes, she lowered her voice. “I know you need sleep, but we should see if there’s a doctor who can look at your leg before you get in the saddle again.”

  He shook his head, not quite meeting her gaze. “I doubt they have a real doctor here. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

  He was probably right about the doctor part, as small as this settlement seemed. When she had a moment, she’d ask someone to be sure. But there was more she had to say.

  She inhaled a breath to gather her courage. “Isaac, you’re not responsible for the actions of those outlaws. They’ve made their own choices. You’ve done your part to help bring them down. Just tell the men of this town where to find their hideout, and then you can let yourself rest. Recover.”

  His jaw flexed and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he locked his gaze with hers. “I promised I’d get Samuel back, and I won’t stop until he’s back in your arms.”

  Her heart ached at his words, at the determination marking his features. She’d wanted a champion like this for so long. Emotion stung her eyes, threatening to overwhelm her defenses.

  Yet, as Isaac said, Samuel wasn’t back in her arms yet. They still had much to accomplish, and every moment mattered. She turned away to unsaddle the gelding she’d ridden, and she was only partway through the task when the livery owner returned.

  “We’ve a group assembling at Mrs. Holder’s to talk through what should be done.” He handed two matching poles to Isaac. “She sent these along. Her late husband used them to walk with when he broke his leg.” The pair had a cross brace at the top, which looked to be wrapped with fabric. Much better than the painful nub on the stick Isaac had been using.

  “Thanks.” Isaac took the tools as the man led his gelding to the stall beside where Joanna was working.

  Isaac examined the pair, then fit them under his arms and tried to walk forward a step. He was a bit awkward, but after a few strides, seemed to find a rhythm.

  She had the horse unsaddled now and released him to find the hay stashed in the corner of his own stall.

  Weariness weighed over her like a rain-soaked wool coat, but she couldn’t let herself succumb yet.

  “Just leave yer saddles and whatever you don’t need for the night here. They’ll be safe enough.” The livery owner stepped out of the stall where he’d been working. “Let’s get you both on down to the Holder place so you can eat and rest a bit ’fore you meet the boys.”

  With the pack that held their food and blankets in hand, she followed him to Isaac’s side. “I don’t think I caught your name, sir.”

  He turned with a genial smile. “Sorry about that. Jessup Tillis, ma’am. At your service.”

  She nodded. “I’m Mrs. Watson.”

  With Isaac using his new walking sticks, they trekk
ed down the quiet street. Mr. Tillis stopped at the door of one of the few homes that boasted a glass window. He knocked, and seconds later, the door swung open.

  “Come in.” The voice and skirts belonged to a woman, but with the light behind her, it was impossible to see more than a slim profile. Their hostess stepped aside, and Mr. Tillis motioned for Joanna to enter first.

  As she took the two steps into the house, the shift in the lighting allowed her a better look at the woman who must be Mrs. Holder. Graying hair tied in a chignon bespoke neat efficiency, but it was the kindness in the woman’s smile that drew Joanna, filling her with a sense of relief so strong that tears sprang to her eyes.

  “Come in, my dear.” Mrs. Holder reached for Joanna’s arm and pulled her farther into the room. “I’ve stew warming on the stove and a bed all ready for you. I’ll put your bag in your room. You must be exhausted.”

  Her voice rolled with such a gentle cadence, so motherly, that it was all Joanna could do to keep from leaning in. Giving over her cares to this stranger and sinking into the warm bed.

  The click of wood on wood sounded behind her, pulling her attention back to where Mr. Tillis was helping Isaac into the room. As the livery owner turned to shut the door, Isaac raised his gaze to Joanna.

  His exhaustion showed in his eyes, but there was a determination there, too. A promise. And the realization surged all the way through to her core. She could trust Isaac to rescue her son. He wouldn’t stop until he’d accomplished the mission.

  She wasn’t sure yet if she could trust him with anything more. But this single most important task was enough.

  She did her best to telegraph her response through her own gaze. Thank you.

  TWENTY-TWO

  Joanna took a seat as Mr. Tillis helped Isaac into a chair at the table, then the man stepped back. “I’m headed to the barn to make your animals a bit more comfortable, but I’ll be back when the others come so we can put together a plan.” He nodded toward Joanna. “We’ll get your boy free, Mrs. Watson. The men around here won’t rest until it’s done.”

 

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