It seemed too wonderful to believe, these familiar landmarks they’d been passing as dusk settled. Each one brought back memories of a different lifetime. A past life she knew and loved, but one far distant from the world she lived in now.
And then the horses shuffled down an incline, winding around the massive boulder that marked the opening into the valley. Her ears strained for the sounds of industry that always drifted from the village. Even on a cold day like this one, the youngsters would be out playing. The thud of her beating heart must have been drowning out the noise.
She leaned around the boulder to catch sight of the lodges stretched out in neat rows. With each step, she strained harder.
But the teepees never appeared.
Had she fallen into a dream? A horrible nightmare? Where was the camp? Her mare stepped onto the level ground, revealing every part of valley in clear detail.
Nothing was left. Not a person, not even barren patches where the lodges had stood. As if they’d never been here. A numbness took over her chest, spreading up to her face. Clouding her mind.
“Moriah?” Samuel’s voice barely penetrated her fog, and she couldn’t find the words to respond. Her body simply wouldn’t move.
All her plans—her only goal for months as she’d holed up like a prisoner in the little cabin Henry had built her—was to come back to this place. To reunite with her family, the people who would keep her and Cherry safe. Protected. She’d come so far. Finally reached her home.
Yet everyone had left. Abandoned her.
She slipped from her horse, then stumbled forward along the path that had been trodden so thoroughly, she’d have never thought grass would grow there again. Yet winter-brown blades crunched under her feet. The barren patches where each lodge had stood were barren no longer. The grass wasn’t quite as tall as other areas, yet the land was reclaiming what it had lost, covering any evidence that an entire group of people—people she’d loved and sacrificed for—had lived and worked and thrived in this place.
She trudged down the first row, stopping at the third circle of shortened grass on the right. Her home for so many years. In the middle of the patch, she kicked aside grass to find the charred remains of what had been their fire ring. She couldn’t begin to count the meals she’d cooked there. For Grandfather and the rest of her family and anyone he could coax in to join them for the meal. He was so well-respected, it was an honor to eat a meal in War Eagle’s lodge. To eat of his women’s cooking.
Dropping to her knees, she clamped her hands over her mouth, barely holding in the sob that surged up her throat. Why would they have left her? Where would they have gone? In her mind, she knew they’d assumed she was permanently settled and would have no need to return to their shelter. But couldn’t her mother have sent one of the boys to tell her where they were going? Didn’t she think maybe Moriah would need her, or simply want to visit on occasion?
But maybe when she’d finally wed Moriah off—to a white man, no less—she’d been relieved. Finally free of the burden cast on her by a hateful Frenchman all those years ago. Maybe she’d urged the elders to leave that place with all haste. To disappear into a land so distant Moriah would never find them.
She pressed her eyes shut, her chest aching as though a horse stood on it. As though her heart were truly breaking. She couldn’t let herself slide into this pit, though. Her mother would never have left only to escape her tainted daughter. Moriah knew it down deep. She’d almost never treated Moriah like she wasn’t wanted.
She had to focus her thoughts on something productive. Where would her people have gone? Surely not back to the place where they’d lived in the years before coming here. That had been a good camp with plenty of grazing for the horses, a regular buffalo route, and a hearty stream to supply them with clean water.
But then the white men had found their precious gold nearby and come in droves. Dirty, unshaven, ill-mannered masses. The place was no longer safe for her quiet people. They wouldn’t have gone back there.
In the distance, a baby’s cry drifted through her thoughts, so far away the sound almost didn’t penetrate. She could keep her eyes closed and be back among her people, children laughing, babies making their needs known, women sharing news as they worked in the sun, tanning hides or preparing food.
The baby’s cry grew louder, then a man’s quiet murmur joined the sound. She forced her eyes open. She couldn’t stay in that world, no matter how much she craved the peaceful haven. The safety she’d always felt there.
She blinked away the moisture blurring her vision. Samuel dropped to his knees beside her, his shoulder brushing hers. His presence eased over her like a warm breeze on a cold day. The baby lay in the sling across his front, her eyes wide but no longer crying.
A warm hand slipped around her shoulders. Steady. Strong.
Something inside her broke with the contact. She turned into him, the sob rising again. He pulled her close, and she rested her head on his shoulder, her face tucked into the crook of his neck. The babe lay between them, keeping her from hiding completely in his security. Yet she huddled as close as she could get. Craving his touch with everything in her.
Another sob broke loose, erupting from her chest in a jerky impulse. How long had it been since she cried? Not since Cherry was born.
And now... A hot tear leaked from her eye. She squeezed Samuel’s arms, struggling to get herself under control. She couldn’t break down. Not in front of him and the boy both.
She would find a way. She always did. And tears wouldn’t help.
Chapter Fifteen
“My heart breaks, yet the new mission fills me with relief.”
~ Samuel
INHALING HARD BREATHS, Moriah pulled herself away from Samuel. He loosened his hold on her, but only a little. Enough that she could look up at him if she wanted to.
But she couldn’t. Couldn’t meet his gaze and see the sympathy there. Or even worse, the censure for her weakness.
Instead she focused on Cherry, who was staring up at her with those wide gray-blue eyes as though she were in the same trance that had overtaken her mother.
Moriah struggled to find words to say to her daughter, something to make this horrible dream go away.
Before she could speak, Samuel reached a finger up to her chin, tipping her face up so she had to meet his gaze. Those eyes, always so earnest, now had a glassy sheen. “We’ll find them, Moriah. I promise.”
The determination in his words, in those deep pools of brown, was almost enough to steal her control again. She dug deep, forcing her emotions aside as she focused on what he’d said.
“You’ll help me?” Because she wasn’t sure she could travel with Cherry alone. Not through the winter. What if she grew sick again? For weeks now, her daughter’s life had depended on her alone, but she wasn’t sure she had the strength to be that sole support any longer. Not in this cruel wilderness.
He nodded. “As long as it takes. I won’t leave you.”
As relief slipped through her, she let her eyes roam over his handsome face, soaking in the assurance there. The strength of his features. So capable of protecting, yet she’d never have guessed the depth of gentleness that lay within this virile man.
Was he the answer to all those pleadings she’d sent to God during the long nights with Cherry? Every time she was beset by lecherous men determined to take everything they could get from her, she’d begged God for help. Could Samuel be His provision for her?
A new awareness settled through her, sending a tingle to her core. She could love this man. It seemed almost irreverent to think it, only six months since Henry’s death. And maybe the love would take time to strengthen, but he was more than she’d let herself believe possible.
She raised her gaze to his eyes again, a darker brown now than before. Without her consent, her focus dipped to his lips. She shouldn’t be thinking this. Shouldn’t be wishing he would draw nearer.
But he did. As though he could read her thoughts, he
narrowed the distance between them. Close enough his breath warmed her face. Her eyes drifted shut as she relished the feel of it.
A baby’s cry rose up between them, strong and insistent.
Moriah jerked back, heat flaming up her neck as she dropped her focus to Cherry. Her little face was scrunched, turning bright red as she complained.
“I’d better take her.” Moriah reached to pull her daughter from the sling, but the angle was awkward, or maybe she was the one who was awkward. She couldn’t quite meet Samuel’s eyes, especially as he had to help her extract the babe.
“There now. Settle down.” She raised Cherry to lay against her shoulder, swaying to calm her. “I think she’s ready to eat. Where’s Matisse?” Her gaze wandered past Samuel to the horses. A lone boy stood holding all three. “He must be disappointed too.”
“Probably. I’ll go talk with him. Shall we camp here for the night?” The hesitation in Samuel’s voice drew her focus. His eyes showed uncertainty. Maybe he thought staying in this place would be too much for her.
She wouldn’t break down again though. And this was the best area they’d find for hours. She nodded. “There’s a stream just across that rise.”
He rose. “I’ll bring your pack and canteen. Take care of Little Bit.”
As he turned and walked away, she couldn’t help watching the strength of his broad shoulders. She may have set something in motion she wasn’t ready for. But a strong part of her wouldn’t have changed it if she could.
SAMUEL KEPT AN EYE on Moriah as the evening passed. He’d never seen her look quite so brittle. She cared for the baby, but her thoughts seemed distant from this pleasant valley. Or...maybe they were caught back in a former time.
He’d wondered once during the journey here whether the people might have moved since she’d left them. But she’d been so certain, he’d pushed the thought out of his mind. Mentioning the idea probably wouldn’t have changed anything. They still would have come to this place to see. Except maybe Moriah would have prepared herself for the possibility of an empty valley.
He could kick himself. It seemed like no matter how hard he tried to help, there was always something he missed.
Thankfully, the baby slept well through the night, only waking once that he heard. And he’d been awake enough to know.
His mind wouldn’t stop plotting out the next step in their journey. He’d put together a tentative plan, but needed to talk to Moriah this morning to see if she would agree.
Of all the scenarios that rolled through his head during the long night, this seemed the most practical and eased the knot in his gut that came with the thought of dragging her and Cherry deeper into the mountains with winter coming fast.
After the morning meal, Matisse wandered off to do some fishing in the nearby creek. They didn’t have hook and twine, of course, but he said he could make a spear that would do the job just as well. Sounded like an arduous and frustrating task to Samuel, but the boy was welcome to try. He’d handled his disappointment over not finding the tribe with only a few words. Some time alone in this place was probably good for him.
Cherry lay face down on her belly on a blanket spread near the fire, Moriah sitting beside her. The babe kicked and gurgled, but her mother’s gaze seemed to have again found that distant place and time.
He eased to sit beside them, then tickled the babe on her cheek. She cooed, a sound that never failed to pull a smile from him. He’d never have believed how quickly this little cherub could work her way into his heart.
In a selfish way, he was thankful the tribe hadn’t been here. If they had, he might be leaving today. Even if he was gone for a few months, he’d miss watching Cherry grow into a rosy-cheeked toddler. Even now, he could see the difference in her over the last week. Her expressions were clearer. And she’d learned how to pump her little fists to show exactly how she felt.
He reached a finger to rub one of her tiny hands. “Have you noticed how she shakes her arms when she’s happy or angry? One jerk means she’s excited. But if she pumps them over and over, she’s mad.”
He glanced sideways to see Moriah’s response. As he’d hoped, a tiny smile teased the corners of her mouth. “She’s finding her personality.”
“I think she’s going to be a strong one.” He wanted to add, like her mother, but he wasn’t sure she was ready for that kind of compliment. What almost happened between them last night might have been a surprise for her. He’d not expected the moment to turn tender either.
He still wasn’t sure how things had changed so quickly. One moment, his chest was aching over her loss, determination surging through him to make this better for her. The next, she was gazing at his lips.
And he’d already been using everything within him not to look at her lips. That glimmer of longing in her eyes had undone all his restraint.
Then Cherry...
His body had rebelled against the interference, but it was for the best. Moriah had been through so much in such a short span. She needed time to catch up. His feelings for her felt like they were rooted deep in the very core of his heart. He wanted hers to be the same way.
Not simply an emotional response to devastating loss.
Anyway, for now he needed to focus on more practical details. He slid a glance at her. “Do you have any idea where they were planning to go next? Was there any talk about better hunting somewhere else?”
Twin lines formed between her brows, and she was silent for a long moment. “I can’t remember hearing anything. I don’t think they would have gone back to the place we camped before. It was overrun with miners, and much of the hunting was gone.”
“Do you think they would have moved closer to the fort or farther away?” He hated to keep pushing, but he needed to know if there were any leads they should follow during the next leg of the journey.
“We were always peaceful, mostly trying to stay away from the white men. At least, until the last few years.” A shadow seemed to touch her eyes. “I don’t think they would have moved closer to the fort. Hunting and safety would be most important.”
He eased out a breath. “Since we don’t have a clear direction to start looking, how about we head south toward the valley where my family lives? I need to let Rachel know about her brother, since they’re delaying the wedding ’til I return.” He paused until she met his gaze. A fear had slipped into her eyes, and he tried to ease it with a smile. “And she’ll want to meet you and Little Bit.”
“I don’t...” She hesitated, looking more uncertain than he’d ever seen her.
He reached for her hand and fit his big fingers around her slender ones. “They’ll give us a safe place to catch our breath and restock supplies. I know they’ll love you and the baby both.” He willed her to see the truth in his gaze, to hear what he wasn’t able to put into words.
She worked her lips, a nervous gesture and one that drew his attention where he ought not allow his gaze to roam. Then her focus shifted to the empty spot of ground where Matisse’s bedroll had lain the night before. “What of Matisse?”
“I hope he’ll come with us. It’ll be his choice, but he’s been a godsend. I’d hate to part ways with him now.”
Her gaze searched his face. “Won’t your people worry about so many strangers coming?”
He couldn’t help a grin. “I come from a family of nine children, remember? This will just make the place feel a little more like home.” Hopefully, they wouldn’t overwhelm her, but he’d be there to help.
Her focus dropped to the baby, still lying on the blanket. “I suppose it would be good for Cherry to get out of the weather for a day or two.”
A weight pressed his chest. He’d planned to tell her the rest of his idea, how it would be healthiest for her and the baby if they stayed with his family through the winter while he searched for her people. But right now, she looked like the mere mention of anything more than a quick visit would send her skittering away.
Maybe better to let her meet them first. Se
e how accepting they were. How eager to take her into the fold. She and the babe would be safe there, but more than that, they would be loved and nurtured. Especially if his bossy sister Noelle had anything to say about it.
She breathed out a sigh. “I suppose we should go there. I owe it to Rachel.”
He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “We can stay here a few days if you’d like. That’ll give you time to finish recovering from your illness. Just let me know when you’re ready.”
Finally she turned to look at him, all uncertainty gone from her expression. “I’m fully recovered. Tomorrow. We’ll leave at first light.”
THERE WAS NO ROSY GLOW of sunrise the next morning, and Samuel eyed the thick clouds hanging low in the sky as he saddled Moriah’s mare. He almost wished they were staying in this valley another day. They could build a shelter against the coming snow, and the horses would appreciate more time to graze in the thick grass. Too, he and Matisse could do some hunting. As it stood, they’d need to stretch their remaining supplies to make it to his family, unless they hunted along the way.
But Moriah was determined to leave this morning, and he certainly didn’t want to prolong her sadness by staying here against her wishes. Maybe the snow would hold off a day until they made it out of the mountains.
He still wasn’t sure which would be the wisest route to take. According to his best estimation, his family lived due south of their current position. He could lead the group southward and pray their path ran into the valley where they were headed. That would certainly be the most direct route—if he didn’t get them lost.
Or they could backtrack to the edge of the mountains and follow that line south until they reached land he’d traveled on his way to find Henry. That would add at least a day, maybe two, to their journey.
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