“She’s over here.” Mrs. Clark motioned toward the floor hidden behind the table. “She’s squirming now that she hears you.”
The words made it impossible to keep his grin in check as he half-stood to peer over the table. What a sweet little bundle. He’d like to hold the little angel, but he didn’t dare ask. Not yet anyway. There might be a time when Mrs. Clark needed an extra set of hands, but he’d have to content himself until she trusted him.
Besides, if he did something wrong or dropped the baby, he’d never forgive himself. Better to smile and talk to her from a distance.
Just now, he stayed by the fire, letting its warmth thaw his aching bones and bring his fingers back to life with a burn. Mrs. Clark dished food onto two tin plates, an appealing meal of some kind of meat in a gravy sauce, with a lumpy, flat, cake-like bread. His mouth watered just watching the food.
“There.” She pushed the plates to opposite ends of the table in front of each chair. Then, she looked up at him, possibly for the first time since he’d entered the room. “Ready to eat?” Her voice always held a clear, lilting sound. Just enough of an accent to draw him in.
He nodded, turning his focus to the food again instead of her many charms. “More than ready.”
Chapter Five
“How she manages with such grace, I’ll never know.”
~ Samuel
AS SAMUEL SAT ACROSS from Mrs. Clark, silence settled in the room, illuminating every pop of the fire, every scrape of a chair, every clang of a fork on a plate. Even his breathing. And his chewing.
He should probably find something to say. Anything to draw her attention away from his table manners—or lack thereof. He wasn’t sure what she was used to, but he’d never been quite as refined as his ma and big sisters tried to make him.
Before he could swallow the bite in his mouth and find something to say, Cherry came to the rescue. Little grunts and murmurs sounded from the other side of the table, snagging Mrs. Clark’s focus. She watched the baby for a long moment, pretty indentions pressing into her brow.
The little noises grew louder, sounding more like real complaints now. Mrs. Clark sent him a look. “It never fails. She always needs something the moment I sit down to eat.”
A half-cry sounded, and Mrs. Clark bent down to fiddle with the child. A moment later, she straightened and positioned little Cherry in her arms so she could see Samuel. The babe had a grumpy look on her face that was so cute it made him smile.
“Are you hungry too?” He raised a fork full of the tender meat. “This is good food your mama made.”
A half smile touched Mrs. Clark’s face. “I don’t think she’s quite ready for this.” She positioned the babe to free one of her hands, then leaned around the little one to eat. She performed the act skillfully, as if she had much practice. He guessed she’d like to eat a meal with both hands for once.
He set his fork down. “Would you like me to hold her while you eat?”
She paused mid-bite, sending a quick glance at him, then to her daughter, then back to meet his gaze. “I’m accustomed to it. You’re the guest. Enjoy your food.” Then she dropped her focus back to her food, sending a clear message.
He obeyed, taking a few more bites before he ventured another comment. “The horses did fine when I brought them into the barn. They’re well-mannered animals.”
She raised her gaze to him. “Good.” Her look made it seem almost as if she’d forgotten about the animals. That was the way it should be. If he could take the weight of some of her responsibilities, he’d be content.
“Which mare do you normally ride?” This way he could have the horses saddled and ready in the morning.
“The bay. The chestnut is the mother of the yearling. If I tether her behind my saddle, the colt should follow along without trouble.”
He nodded. “I hoped as much. My gelding is a friendly sort. Do you mind if I tie the chestnut behind him instead of your mare? That way you can focus on you and the baby without worrying about extra horses.”
Her eyes blinked, the only sign his suggestion caught her off guard. “If the animals get along.”
“I’ll let them get to know each other first, then we’ll see how things go.”
“Fine.” She took another bite, turning her focus back to her food and her daughter.
He let silence settle for another minute as he took in the cabin around them. The place was well-built. Not much by way of furniture, but any man in this territory would be lucky to have the place. Did he dare poke his nose where he didn’t belong? But he wouldn’t feel right about taking her away without asking.
After swallowing his bite, he motioned around the room. “This is a nice cabin. Do you have it sold to someone who’ll come in after you leave?”
She didn’t answer right away, just continued chewing, the steady action of her jaw almost painfully methodical. At last she swallowed but didn’t lift her focus to his face. “I do not. Those men will be back to take over the place before the fire cools, no doubt, but I’ll not take a penny from them. I want nothing of theirs.” She almost spat those last words.
He did his best not to flinch away from the venom in her tone. “I can understand the feeling. It just seems like you’d get a decent amount for selling the place. It’s up to you, though.”
Her jaw hardened. “I only want to go back to my people. I need nothing else.”
She must have endured an awful lot to have such anger. The thought pressed hard on his chest.
He couldn’t erase her past, but he could protect her from this point on.
MORIAH PULLED THE CINCH tight on her mare and positioned the stirrup back in place. “Ready, girl?” She patted the thick winter hair on the horse’s neck and tightened her hold on the reins as the mare shifted. “I know it’s been a while.” Too long since she’d ridden either of the horses, but they seemed to have weathered their time in the pasture well. All three were round and wooly with winter coats.
“Want me to hold her while you mount?” Mr. Grant’s voice sounded nearer than she’d expected, but she kept herself from reacting.
“I can do it.” After all, she’d grown up on horseback. Having the cradleboard on her back would require a shift in balance, but she shouldn’t have trouble.
He didn’t press the issue, and she managed to climb aboard the mare without much awkwardness. Cherry had already settled into a deep sleep, lulled by the rocking of Moriah’s steps throughout the early morning.
The hours of riding ahead of them would probably keep her in that peaceful trance longer than usual before she awoke hungry again.
Mr. Grant mounted his big red gelding and looked at her with raised brows. “All set?”
She sent a final glance toward the cabin, the home Henry had struggled over, the place that had turned from a peaceful home to a warm prison. Now, she just wanted a fresh start.
Squaring her shoulders, she turned back toward Mr. Grant. “I’m ready.”
Two hours later, her body made it quite clear how long it had been since she’d ridden horseback for this length. Worse than that, Cherry had awakened and was fussing in the cradleboard, more than ready for her next meal.
She should have positioned her daughter in front, maybe even in a sling so she could nurse as they traveled. If she asked Mr. Grant to stop for the babe to eat every two hours, their trip would take days longer.
Cherry let out another squawl, and the man riding just ahead reined his gelding to the side so she could ride up alongside him. They were in open country with mostly grass and rolling hills except for the trees gathered along the occasional creek they passed.
When she was beside him, he glanced back at Cherry. “Is now a good time to stop and stretch our legs?”
A surge of relief washed through her. At least she didn’t have to ask for a halt. Most men would be frustrated at stopping so early in the morning, but he was offering without a hint of displeasure.
She nodded, and in seconds, she’d dismounted and
was removing her daughter from the cradleboard. “It’s all right, sweet one. You’re going to get clean and fed.” Once again, the complete dependency of this child pressed down on her. There was no one else to care for her. No one to fight away the men who would have tossed her aside as not worth the trouble while they plundered the things they craved.
She couldn’t let herself dwell on what would become of this sweet baby if anything happened to Moriah. She had to stay alive. Had to get them to a better place. The pressure to accomplish it was almost smothering, but she’d bear up under the weight and get them to safety.
She had to.
SAMUEL KEPT AN EAR tuned to the woman and child behind him. But he tried not to look at them, as much as he wanted to. Just now, she was humming, the sound barely carrying up to him through the creaking of saddle leather and swishing of grass under the horse’s feet. He strained to hear her pretty voice.
His gelding’s ears pricked, catching Samuel’s attention. On the horizon was another line of trees, but as he stared, several bits of brown separated from the brush.
Men riding toward them. Or at least he assumed they were men. He’d only seen one other woman since leaving his sister’s home in the mountains, and she’d been an Indian squaw at the fort.
He glanced back to point out the newcomers to Mrs. Clark, but she’d already seen them.
She met his gaze, her focus intense. “They are white men.”
He turned back around to study the figures. All he could see were three specs of brown. He could just make out the bulky outlines that did probably mean they were male. But white? It was impossible to tell the color of their skin from this distance.
He kept his focus on the strangers and spoke loud enough for Mrs. Clark to hear. “How can you tell?”
“The way they sit their horses. No Indian would slouch so.”
He almost chuckled. Now that he studied their shape, he could see the truth in her words. He’d not had enough experience with Indians to be so certain of their posture astride a horse, but she clearly had.
The group seemed to be coming straight toward them, which made sense because Fort Hamilton lay to their back. Within a few minutes, the distance between them had closed by half, and Samuel could make out more details of their faces.
He eased his horse slower and to the side so he could speak to Mrs. Clark without his voice carrying. “Do you recognize them?” He glanced at her face.
Her jaw was tight, and she’d tossed a fur over her shoulder, shielding the baby from view. “Maybe." She kept her gaze on the approaching men. "There were so many at the fort, it’s hard to remember them all.”
“They’re not the fellows you were fighting off when I came, are they?” He didn’t see Gray Beard among them, but she might have gotten a better look at the others than he had. His gut coiled as her answer was slow in coming.
“I would know them better by their voices.”
That didn’t ease his worry any. He refocused on the strangers and gave his gelding more rein to move out in front of Mrs. Clark and the baby. She stood out like a shimmering angel in this wilderness of men, but the more he could protect her from their gawking the better.
The three men reined in a few strides away, and the fellow in front tipped his hat up. “Howdy.” His gaze slid right past Samuel to the woman behind him, then seemed to hover there. Narrowing.
“Hello.” Samuel made the word strong to pull the attention back to himself.
The man swung his focus to Samuel and took him in. “You folks come from the fort?”
“Near there. Is that where you’re headed?” He let his gaze travel over all three of them, giving each an equal chance to answer.
But it was the bushy-bearded man in front who responded. “Yep. Got a load o’ furs from the Indians.” Then his focus shifted back to Mrs. Clark. “Say, aren’t you Henry Clark’s woman? I knew I’d seen ya before.” He darted a quick glance at Samuel. “But this ain’t Henry Clark. That’s what gave me pause.”
His question was clear. Why was she traveling with a man not her husband? Samuel had to bite his tongue not to set the record straight. He wasn’t sure how much she wanted to make known. He finally summoned what seemed like a satisfying, yet vague enough, answer. “I’m escorting Mrs. Clark to visit her family, as I’m going that way myself.”
The man’s head tipped as he studied Samuel. “Her husband passed on?”
“Yes.” The word drifted from behind him before Samuel could string together an answer.
All three strangers turned to face her, and Samuel couldn’t help but do the same.
She raised her chin and met the eyes of the man who’d been doing the talking. “My husband died on a hunting trip. I am returning to my people.”
He’d never seen a woman look so noble. So brave. But he couldn’t stop to watch her now. He forced himself to focus on the men, to see their reactions.
The bearded fellow narrowed his beady eyes. “I’m sorry to hear that, ma’am.” He didn’t sound a bit sorry. He looked from her to Samuel, then back to her. “It’s good you’ll be around kin again.”
Did he think something untoward was happening between the two of them? Samuel should set the man straight.
Before he could speak, though, the stranger straightened and glanced at his two friends. “We’d best be movin’ on. Won’t be stoppin’ tonight ’til we get to the fort.”
Maybe it was right that he let it go. Surely neither of them would see these men again. And both he and Mrs. Clark knew their traveling together was strictly for assistance and protection. That was what mattered.
As the men rode off, he slid a glance at Mrs. Clark. She met his gaze with a rueful look. “I’d say my little cabin just found its new owners.”
He studied her for signs of anger. “Does that bother you?”
She heaved out a breath. “I suppose I gave it up.” Then she glanced down at the mound of sleeping baby hidden under the fur. “We have to put that life behind us.”
He’d never met such a strong person. Except maybe Rachel, the woman his brother would be marrying. But Rachel hadn’t survived for months on her own, heavy with child. Then given birth to that child, completely alone. Then fought off men who’d planned to take over her home and have their way with her.
No, this woman possessed more strength and gumption than any person he’d ever met, male or female. It was an honor to help her make this journey.
An honor, yes. But something in his gut told him this might turn into more than the simple trip he was hoping for.
Chapter Six
“Who would have thought this freedom I craved would be so hard to find?”
~ Moriah
THE SUN WAS HIGH IN the midday sky when little baby coos and mews drifted from behind Samuel. He glanced back to see the babe stretching in the sling Mrs. Clark had wrapped her in. A tiny fist reached out from the fabric as the coo turned into fussing.
He glanced in front of them. “Looks like there’s a creek not far ahead. Shall we stop to eat and rest the horses?”
“That would be good.” Her voice hung heavy with relief. Tending an infant on horseback couldn’t be easy.
When they reached the spot, he dismounted just in time to hold her mare while she eased down with the baby. “I’ll water the horses while you do what you need to with the little angel.”
She sent him a look that might have been meant as a smile, but the weary lines and shadows under her eyes took all the cheer from the expression. She’d been bearing under a heavy load far too long.
After he loosened the animals’ girths so they could breathe easier, then let each drink its fill, he tied them where they could graze a little. Next, food for the people.
He found his roasted venison and pulled out strips for both Mrs. Clark and him. She’d probably packed better food, but he didn’t want to riffle through her things to find it. She was probably as thirsty as he was from the morning in the saddle, so he took his tin cup a little upstrea
m from where the horses had drunk and scooped up the clear water.
Bearing food and drink, he headed back toward Mrs. Clark. But the moment the trees between them thinned enough for him to see her clearly, he froze, then spun away. She sat, leaning against a tree, a blanket draped over the front of her. He wasn’t naïve enough to wonder why that blanket covered her and the babe who must be in her arms. Didn’t infants fuss because they needed to eat?
His ears burned from the thought of what he’d walked in on, and he moved away, back toward where he’d left the horses.
“It’s all right, Mr. Grant.”
He paused. She didn’t sound angry, nor did she sound nearly as mortified as he was. “I’m sorry, I...” Words fled his mind.
“I’m covered. You may do whatever it is you need.”
He inhaled a breath. She was much calmer about this than he was. But then, it was the way of nature, right? A mother nursing her young. Just as God planned things.
He eased back around, careful not to let his gaze wander anywhere near her. “I...was just bringing you something to eat.” He kept his focus on the ground in front of him as he carried the food and cup forward. “All I have in my pack is the venison, so I hope it’ll do for now.”
He set the cup down beside her, and her hand appeared from under the blanket to take the meat.
“Thank you. I am very hungry. And thirsty.”
Of course she was. She had to eat and drink for two.
He turned away, having succeeded in not looking at her once. “I’ll get more meat. Let me know when you finish that water and I’ll fill the cup again.”
“Actually, stay for just a minute and you can take the cup now.”
He paused while the sounds of drinking drifted up from behind him. Almost as loud as the pounding of his pulse.
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