He looked behind him as Moriah approached, the babe already tucked in her sling. Matisse trailed her with the two bundles he’d strap onto his own horse.
Samuel raised his brows at her. “Ready?”
Her jaw was set as she nodded, determination marking eyes still rimmed by red.
He held the mare as she mounted, reaching up to steady her elbow when she wavered. He knew from experience that mounting with a baby strapped to you wasn’t easy.
Her mouth pulled in what she might have meant to be a smile. Maybe he should share his questions about their route with her. Something to distract her, and she may be familiar enough with the terrain to provide valuable input. Matisse, too, for that matter, if he’d traveled as much as he’d said.
“I’m debating which way we should ride from here.” He shifted his gaze from Moriah to the boy, then back. “I think my family lives almost due south of here, but their valley may be hard to find if we ride directly through the mountains. I know I can find it if we backtrack to the flatland and follow the edge of the peaks, but that would add days. Are either of you familiar with the land to the south?”
Moriah stared out over the mountains around them. “We came from the south when we moved to this valley, traveling through the mountains. We accomplished it with children and animals, so the terrain is manageable. I may remember the valley you speak of, but I’m not certain.”
A weight on his chest lifted. “That sounds promising.” He looked to Matisse. “Have you traveled much through the mountains to the south?”
The lad rolled his lips under, a look that held more boyish uncertainty than he usually showed. “I can’t say for sure. We moved all the time, and the land runs together in my mind. Maybe when I see it I’ll remember.”
Samuel nodded. He wouldn’t count on that, but Moriah’s words made him more hopeful. He looked back at her. “You think we should take the direct route through the mountains?”
She slid her gaze that direction, but her mind seemed far away. Maybe remembering her earlier journey? “I think so.” The words came out almost wistful. Maybe the memories made her miss her family all over again. So much for distracting her from the sadness.
But then she pulled her focus back to him and offered a weak smile as she gathered her reins.
He gave the mare a pat, then turned to his gelding and mounted. “Let’s cover some distance.”
Chapter Sixteen
“I never thought to feel this again.”
~ Moriah
MORIAH HAD FORGOTTEN how treacherous the mountain terrain could be. That afternoon, the chilly breeze turned to an icy wind. She kept Cherry bundled in furs as much as she could, but it seemed impossible to keep the babe safe from the elements. Why had she ever taken her from the protection of the cabin? If they could just make it through a few more days of this, they’d reach Samuel’s family.
A few flakes already swirled, and she had no doubt the thicker snowfall would be on them soon. Would Samuel keep riding or make camp early? She could ask to stop, but the farther they pressed on the better. She just had to keep Cherry protected.
The baby squawked in her wrappings. Probably tired of being so restrained.
Samuel glanced back at her from his place in the lead. His gaze searched the blankets, then lifted to hers. “We’ll make camp as soon as we find a place somewhat protected.” He scanned the rocky landscape around them. “I’m praying we find a cave.”
A shiver slipped through her. A cave would provide good shelter, although the stone floor would be bone-numbingly cold.
Silence settled again as the horses picked their way over the rocky ground. Snow spun in earnest around them, biting the exposed skin on her face. Cherry fussed and kicked inside the bundle.
“Hold on, sweet one.” Moriah shifted the babe’s position to make her more comfortable. “As soon as we stop, I can let you move more.” A little anyway. She couldn’t let the babe be exposed to this chill. Already a film of moisture marked the delicate skin under her nose. What would she do if Cherry took sick?
“Look there.”
Her attention jerked up at Samuel’s words, her gaze following the line of his finger. She squinted against the snowflakes blowing in her eyes. Was there an animal traipsing along the cliff wall where he pointed? No, but could that shadow be a cave?
He turned his gelding that direction. “Wait here while I see exactly what it is.”
She reined in her mare, and the yearling pranced forward on the rocks as Matisse reined in beside her. She tried for a smile to offer the boy, but her face felt frozen in a shiver.
Poor fellow, he looked just as miserable, hunkered down in his buckskins. He didn’t have a fur at all. He must be frozen to the core.
“I think I have an extra wolf skin in my pack. When we stop, I’ll pull it out for you.”
He nodded, his chin quivering. He must truly be only half Indian, as his lighter coloring suggested. The Indian blood running through his veins should give him a higher tolerance for the cold, but not as much when diluted with European races.
Samuel had left his horse partway down the hill and now reached the shadow in the rock, his rifle in his hand. He moved forward into the dark place, disappearing as though he walked right through the cliff wall. It must be a cave. Thank you, God.
Her heart stuttered under the tightening in her chest as she waited for him to come back out. A bear or other animal might have chosen the cave to hibernate or find shelter from the snow.
She’d feel better when Samuel stepped back out, safe and whole.
A clatter sounded on the stones, like a herd of horses stomping. The noise was barely dimmed by the wind. She pulled her rifle out of the scabbard, although she couldn’t shoot so close to Cherry. The noise would deafen the baby’s ears.
“Here.” She thrust the gun at Matisse, but he’d readied his own rifle. “Go help him.”
The boy’s horse surged forward just as shadows shifted on the mountainside around the cave.
Not just shadows. Bodies.
Mountain goats poured from the cave entrance, almost running over each other as they clambered along the rock face. She eased out a breath. Her pulse still hammered in her throat.
Cherry wailed, and Moriah bounced her to try to soothe. She didn’t blame the babe for fussing. She probably needed a dry cloth and a meal soon, too. At least with the cave, Moriah could take care of her daughter.
Samuel appeared a moment later, a wonderful sight as he ducked out from the opening. The muscles through her shoulders and chest finally eased.
After clambering down the rocky slope, he patted his horse, then left him standing as he jogged toward her and Matisse. “It’s a nice little cavern. Not too clean from all the animals that have stayed there, but we can sweep out a section. At least we’ll be away from the weather.”
They worked quickly, and within a few minutes, had a place cleared and the packs unloaded. Samuel knelt to make a fire while Matisse fed and tended the horses. She couldn’t do anything but try to hush Cherry, who’d settled into a full wail.
“Go ahead and do what you need with her. I’ll keep my back turned.” Samuel raised his voice loud enough to be heard above the cries but kept his focus on the flame he was nurturing.
If she trusted any man to do so, she would trust him. And once she had Cherry in position to nurse, she could cover herself back up. The babe needed clean cloths too, but that should probably wait until the fire warmed the air that would hit her sensitive skin.
So she tucked herself into the shadows and finally eased Cherry’s cries.
The blazing fire was starting to put out heat by the time the babe had nursed her fill, and Moriah took the chance to change the little one out of her soiled cloth. Samuel had a pot of water warming, which she used to give her daughter a much-needed wipe-down. If only she could do the same for herself. Maybe she could find a moment later if both men were out of the cave.
Snow fell in a thick curtain as Matisse
tracked in and out of the shelter with armloads of wood. Samuel was tucked over the second pot warming by the fire, making the evening meal. A job she should be doing.
With Cherry bundled back up and propped where she could watch them, Moriah shifted around to Samuel’s side. “Let me take over. I’m sorry I haven’t been more help.”
She reached for the spoon in his hand, but he didn’t release it right away.
“I don’t mind, Moriah. I’m not the cook you are, but I can make meat stew.” His warm voice sent a tingle down her back, making her realize exactly how near she was to him. And the way he spoke her name made the word sound so melodic. Replaying the sound almost sent another shiver through her.
She inhaled a settling breath and nudged his arm with her elbow. “Go on, I can do this.” She knew better than to meet his warm brown gaze. She’d get lost in him.
He released the spoon and eased back. “If you want to.” Was that disappointment in his voice? She chanced a look at him, but he’d already turned away, pushing up to his feet. “I’ll lay out the bedrolls so we’re not sitting on cold rock.”
An excellent idea.
Matisse came in with a final load of limbs for the fire. Snow covered his head and shoulders, and his skinny frame looked even more waif-like than usual. She pointed to the wolf skin Samuel had laid on her pallet of bedding. “Wrap that fur around you. I’ll sew a clasp on it tonight so you can use it as a cape.”
He reached for the pelt without arguing. A sign he must truly be in need.
Once the stew was ready, they all seemed to inhale the warm broth. Moriah let her eyes drift shut as the soothing heat soaked through her insides, warming every part it touched.
There wasn’t as much meat in the soup as she would have put, but at least the stuff was hot. A thought slipped through her mind, and she jerked her gaze up to Samuel. “Are we low on supplies?” She’d packed plenty to reach her people, but they’d already gone farther than that and also added another member to their party—one who couldn’t seem to fill the bottomless hole inside him.
Samuel kept his focus on his stew. “We’ll need to hunt in the next day or two.”
She studied him. “How long do you think before we reach your family?”
He turned to stare out into the falling snow, the white outside almost shimmering in the dim light of dusk. “I’m not quite sure. At least two days. Maybe three.”
“When the snow stops, I’ll hunt.” Matisse didn’t often speak up on his own. He must be gaining confidence with them.
She sent him a smile. “Good.”
By the time they’d all eaten their fill, darkness had settled deep outside. The firelight lit a circle around them, cloaking them in a cozy almost-warmth.
Matisse stretched his legs in front of him. “I’ll go check the horses.”
Samuel gave a soft groan as he stood. “I’ll walk out with you and bring in more water for the dishes.”
Moriah eyed the pan of water she’d used to wipe Cherry earlier. This could be her chance for a quick wash.
The moment the men stepped outside, she moved into action. Within a minute or two, she’d cleaned up as much as she could and slipped into her buckskin tunic. Maybe she could heat some snow to wash her shirtwaist instead of traipsing back out to find the creek where Samuel was gathering water.
A sound from the cave opening made her spin. The man who’d just wandered through her thoughts stepped into the warmth of their little haven. The light from the fire lit his face, accenting each strong feature. Every inch of his rugged handsomeness. The breadth of his shoulders seemed to fill the cave, starting a flutter in her middle.
As he stepped toward her, his eyes took her in, and she couldn’t help but flush. She hadn’t wrapped herself back in her coat, and she was pretty sure he’d never seen her in her buckskins without the outer garment. Did it make her look more Indian? Did he disapprove?
Her heart picked up speed as he stepped closer, moving straight toward her with an intensity he’d never showed before. A deliberation that made her breath hitch. He paused a few steps away and lowered the pot to the ground, breaking the connection of their gazes. She inhaled a deep breath, willing the catch in her chest to ease.
Then he stood and stepped closer, bringing him within a stride of her. His gaze roamed her face, then slid down to her shoulder. He reached out and fingered the buckskin sleeve. “I like this.” His eyes lifted to hers again, and this time they were darker than before.
She couldn’t breathe. Every part of her responded to him in a way that almost frightened her. She’d never wanted a kiss as much as she wanted this man to take her in his arms and bring her back to life.
His breathing had turned ragged, filling the space between them. His fingers brushed over her arm, stroking upward. Over her shoulder, cupping her neck with a caress that sent another shiver through her. His hand moved up to her jaw as he closed the distance between her mouth and his.
Her eyes slid shut as the sweet warmth of him filled her. His lips were gentle, yet she could feel a strength in them that spoke of desire. As though he knew what he wanted. A frisson of fear slipped through her at the thought. Would he press his advantage, now that she’d shown her feelings? For she certainly wasn’t holding herself back from the kiss.
Before she could process the thought, he eased back, brushing her lips with a final lingering caress. His hands cupped her face, and she took a moment to relish his touch. The security in his strength. The burn of tears crept in before she could block them. Why did they come now?
His hands slid down from her face, wrapped around her back, and pulled her close. Enfolding her in his strength, the solid security of him. She inhaled a shuddering breath, pressing her eyes closed so nothing leaked out. He smelled of man and woodsmoke and horse, a unique blend that was his alone, and it eased around her like a thick fur.
For a long moment, she let herself simply be held, inhaling his strength, renewing herself with his touch, with the steady beat of his heart.
Minutes passed as they stood there. She needed to pull away. To put some distance between them. To pull herself back under control.
He must have sensed her thoughts, for he loosened his hold, sliding his hands to her arms, then down the length of them to take her hands. He raised them to his lips, meeting her gaze with a tenderness that nearly unraveled her.
She almost turned away. Away from the earnestness there, but he still held her hands.
“Moriah.” His voice was warm, gentle.
She studied his eyes, trying to see what lay behind them.
“This doesn’t change anything between us.” His gaze turned intense as he spoke. “I don’t want you to worry. I may be falling for you hard, but you have to know that I’m still your friend. I’ll always protect you. And I’ll do whatever I can to find your family.”
Maybe it was that intensity, or maybe it was his words that made her chest ache. She dropped her focus to their joined hands. What was he saying exactly? That she was just a pleasure he’d indulged in, and he vowed not to do so again?
I may be falling for you hard. That sounded like more than a temporary pleasure.
His finger touched her chin, tipping it upward so she had to meet his gaze again. “I meant that kiss. I just don’t want you to worry or feel awkward around me now.”
The way his eyes darkened when he said the word meant resurrected the sensation of his lips on hers. Something swirled in her chest, and she couldn’t seem to stop her gaze from dropping to his mouth again.
He groaned and lowered his forehead to rest on hers. “Moriah. I’ve never known a woman quite like you. You may just be my undoing.”
She wanted to speak, to say something witty, or to just prove his kiss hadn’t stolen her ability to form words. But with the warmth of his breath caressing her face, she could do nothing except close her eyes and soak him in.
A whimper broke the moment. Moriah turned to where she’d left Cherry, sleeping inside her cocoo
n of blankets. The babe’s face was screwed into the start of a cry.
She worked to disentangle herself from Samuel. “I’d better get her.”
He touched her shoulder. “Let me. I haven’t held that Little Bit all day.”
As she watched him turn away and retrieve her daughter, Moriah had the feeling that—despite his words—things would not be the same between them.
Everything had changed. And that thought lit a candle of fear inside her.
Chapter Seventeen
“Why can I never get it right?”
~ Samuel
SAMUEL BREATHED A SIGH of relief as he stepped from the cave entrance the next morning. The dawn breaking on the eastern horizon splashed through the openings in the clouds. No more snow fell, although there was quite a bit covering the ground. The rocks might be treacherous climbing down from the cave.
Especially for a woman carrying a baby.
His body still came alive every time he remembered that kiss. Holding her in his arms afterward, he’d felt her vulnerability so much that his chest still ached for her. Maybe he shouldn’t have pressed the kiss, but he’d seen the yearning in her eyes.
Still, in those few quiet moments afterward, he’d realized the depth of her fragility. For a woman so strong, there was something inside her so delicate, she raised every one of his protective instincts.
He wanted to heal her. To take away her pain and mend the broken places inside. But hadn’t he proved himself no good at fixing people? He’d done his best with Seth. All their lives he’d tried to tame the insatiable thirst for more inside his twin brother. He’d never been able to curb his wild bent, especially not when the addictions took over.
And standing by to watch Seth’s downfall had been the worst pain of Samuel’s life.
Thank the Lord for stepping in. For healing Seth the way Samuel had never been able to. For bringing them both to a better place.
He squeezed his eyes shut. I’m sorry, Lord. Their Heavenly Father would have to be the one to heal Moriah, too. Mend her wounds. Restore her to the woman You made her to be. And, Lord, I’m a willing vessel if you want to use me in the process.
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