Satisfied with her conclusion, Kitty pressed on, finding a spring. To her joy, horse tracks indented the muddy parts of the bank. With hope filling her once more, she followed the water source, allowing it to draw her across the threshold of the wild, mysterious mountains.
Chapter Six
6. Cyrus
Chapter six
Domino Guthrie jumped from his horse and peered at the pile of droppings with a scrunched nose. “Yep,” he simply said. “Fresh dung.”
Tension gathered in Cyrus’ chest, and he gazed up at the peaks surrounding them. Following the river meant they were traveling in the semi-open. Yet the way Cyrus saw it, there was no other choice. Judging by the horse dung, the robbers were doing just as he figured and traveling along the river.
Did they suspect they were being followed?
Did they want to be followed?
The idea had been niggling at the back of Cyrus’ mind the last few hours. Though he wasn’t sure just why a group of train robbers would want to lure ordinary men into the mountains, he couldn’t let the possibility slide.
“We should stop soon.” Domino pulled his horse alongside Cyrus’.
He nodded. “Let’s find a good spot to make camp.”
They’d been riding for several hours without any food or water. To make matters worse, they’d taken off without any supplies whatsoever. No tents or any sleeping bags. A simple thunderstorm could be disastrous.
Domino scratched his beard. “Look at that rock face there. Maybe we can find an overhang to camp under.”
Cyrus nodded, glancing behind at the stone-faced men following their lead. Did they understand just how dangerous this mission was?
For Cyrus, there could be no other choice. Most of his life, he’d danced alongside death, not really caring whether or not it took him. He’d seen so much of it, he’d almost gone numb.
They continued on, veering away from the river and following the gray rock face. Just as Domino predicted, there was an area with jagged overhangings. They split into groups, some men gathering brush to use as bedding and some men caring for the horses. Cyrus went back down to the river, the man with the bowlerhat, whose name Cyrus had discovered was Paul King, following along.
“You ever made a fishing net out of sticks?” Cyrus asked.
Paul King shook his head ‘no.’ Cyrus wasn’t the least bit surprised.
After collecting curved sticks and vines, Cyrus tied them together into an oval. Stripping off his undershirt, he attached it to the device. A rough but functional fishing net was formed.
“We’ll have to eat them raw, course,” Cyrus explained. “Can’t afford for anyone to see our fire.”
King seemed impressed. “I imagine if a bear can stomach it then so can we.”
They found a spot where the water ran over piles of large rocks, many of them sticking out of the river, and nestled the primitive net into a spot between two small boulders. Resting on his haunches atop one of the largest rocks, Cyrus stared at the water and waited.
Evening was coming on fast, stealing all the light from the mountains. The night would be chilly, but nothing they couldn’t handle. The two men sat in companionable silence.
“Do you think we’ll find her?” King asked after thirty minutes.
Cyrus stretched his neck out, taking his time—not that he hadn’t been wondering the same thing himself. “They’re either keeping her for themselves or planning on selling her.”
“Selling her?” King cried. “To who, Indians?”
“No. White men running a slavery ring.”
“That can’t be.” King shook his head and stretched his legs out on his own rock opposite Cyrus.
“It’s a real problem,” Cyrus quietly answered.
More silence passed. Cyrus was thinking about the first time he saw Katherine, standing there against the train’s railing, watching her life fall apart. The idea of letting her down had his gut twisting. They’d only exchanged a couple letters, but she had been very clear from the beginning that her sister was the most important thing to her. Katherine Byrum would go nowhere without Helen Byrum by her side.
Cyrus wondered if he’d feel the same way if he had any siblings, or if he’d still have a need to keep a distance between him and everyone else. Did blood ties really mean as much as everyone said they did? Or was that just another one of the lines people told themselves so they could sleep at night?
Hauling himself off the rock, he found another stick and used the knife stuck in his boot to whittle it sharp. They had already caught four good-sized trout. Not enough to fill each man, but enough to stave off the hunger. Piercing it through the fish, he handed the hearty catch over to King. “I’ll stay down here and see if I can catch some more.”
With King gone, Cyrus stared into the swirling water, his thoughts scattered. Even as his mind wandered he still kept his ears pricked for any noises. Nothing but the regular sounds of nature caught his attention: squirrels rustling around in the leaves and birds calling goodnight to each other. The posse was doing a good job of keeping quiet, and Cyrus hoped it stayed that way.
Suddenly, a stick cracked. Then another. The noise wasn’t accompanied by frantic movement, like with squirrels. A large animal was nearby… Or a human.
Moving slow, Cyrus climbed off the rock and slipped behind a tree. Dusk made it hard to see any more than a few feet, and he held his breath as he peered around.
Another crack sounded, this one between him and the river. Whipping his head around, he saw a horse walking up along the bank.
And not just any horse. His horse. Even in the fading light, he could make out the markings of his thoroughbred he’d thought had run off for good. In the saddle rode a woman in a full skirt.
“What in the...” Cyrus murmured. He only needed one guess as to which woman it could be.
“What are you doing here?” he quietly asked, so as not to spook the horse.
Katherine gasped as Cyrus emerged from behind the tree. She stayed where she was, silent and clinging to the reins.
“Well?” he demanded.
“I… I think you know why I came.” Her voice shook.
Cyrus rubbed his brow, anger immobilizing him. Inside he was seething at her blatant disobedience.
As if reading his mind, she stared down at him defiantly. “I am not going back.”
He dragged his fingers down his jaw, the stubbly bits of beard he hadn’t gotten to shave that day cutting into his fingertips. “Is this what our marriage is going to be like?”
“Our… why…. How can you think of that at such a time? My sister is missing!”
“And if you don’t lower your voice, her captives will know we’re on to them,” he answered through gritted teeth.
Katherine’s form deflated in the saddle. His saddle.
“How did you find my horse?”
“He hadn’t gone far.”
“Hm.” Cyrus stepped forward and took the reins from her hands. “Come on.”
“Where?”
“To camp.”
“You are letting me stay?”
“No.”
Quick as a flash, she was off the horse and on the ground.
Cyrus spun on her, hot anger like lava bubbling up. “Just what is your plan, little girl?”
Katherine lifted her chin. They were close enough now that he could just see the contours of her face. “I’m not a little girl. I am twenty-one, and I expect you know that, seeing as you ordered me.”
“You don’t have to put it that way.”
“What? Ordered? That is what has occurred, has it not? A transaction?”
Cyrus didn’t know if she was trying to distract him so he’d let her stay or what, but whatever the game was, he wasn’t going to play it. “I might just send you back if I get it in my head to.”
Katherine’s face dropped to the earthen floor.
Heavens above, he’d done it again. Put his boot in his mouth and made a bad situation worse.
“At least you brought the jerky and biscuit mix.” He gestured at the horse’s saddlebags.
“Is that a joke?” she quietly asked.
“Apparently not.” Cyrus crossed his arms. “Look, you know I have the needed experience for this. I know what I’m doing out here. I’m telling you, if you stay you’ll get in the way. You might make things worse and stop us from getting your sister back. You might even get killed yourself. Is that what you want?”
“I cannot just leave,” she whispered. “I know no one in Pathways or Shallow Springs. I have no one else… in the whole world.”
The painful words punched Cyrus square in the gut. For the dozenth time that day, she’d stolen his breath away.
He hated how much he understood what Katherine was feeling. The woman was turning him into a bleeding heart, and he couldn’t afford that.
He wanted to tell her she was wrong. She also had him.
But that wasn’t even true. Their marriage agreement had nothing to do with love and affection. Nothing about Cyrus did. He’d never fallen in love and never would. That’s why one wife was just as good as another.
“Let’s go.” He led the horse up the hill, listening for Katherine’s footsteps to follow. After a brief pause, they did.
At the camp, the men paused in their busywork of cleaning fish and laying down leaves for bedding to take in the newcomer.
“What’s she doing here?” someone demanded.
“Leaving in the morning,” Cyrus answered.
The men shuffled around, having nothing else to say about that.
“Here, miss.” A lithe man stepped forward. “There’s a soft spot over here for you.” He gestured at a crude bed sheltered by an evergreen.
“Thank you.” Cyrus couldn’t see it, but he felt the scathing look Katherine sent his way.
“The name is Nelson Bowles, miss. Let me know if you need anything else.”
“She’ll be fine,” Cyrus grumbled, stepping between the two of them.
Katherine followed, like a puppy on her heels.
At the far edge of the overhang, Domino rested with his back against a sapling. “Well look at that,” he commented.
“Imagine it,” Cyrus sarcastically responded.
Katherine stood between the two of them, hands clenched at her sides. The tree cover was lighter here, and the moon shone brightly on her face. A strange feeling went through Cyrus, and he swallowed hard. She was distracting him already.
What was that sailors always said about womenfolk being on ships? That it was bad luck?
The same probably went for womenfolk in posses. Especially pretty, headstrong ones.
“Looks like we have a quality tracker on our hands,” Domino said, trying unsuccessfully to hide a grin.
“You were not that hard to find,” Katherine answered.
Cyrus’ face heated up. If a city girl could find them, then that meant they were doing an awful job at being discreet. Could be the robbers were watching them right then.
“What’s your plan?” Domino asked.
Katherine had an answer prepared. “I will keep to myself. I promise. If I cannot keep up, you may leave me behind.”
“We would have to,” Cyrus growled.
Domino’s face turned from one of them to the next. “You two know each other?”
“No,” Katherine answered at the same time Cyrus said, “Why would you think that?”
Domino shrugged. “You argue like it.”
An odd mix of annoyance and pleasure hit Cyrus. “You go and keep out of the way,” he told Katherine. “We’re leaving before dawn.”
“Goodnight, Mr. Guthrie.” She turned, the bustle of her skirt swishing behind her. Just how she planned on traversing the mountains in such a ridiculous piece of clothing, Cyrus didn’t know.
“I’m sending her back tomorrow,” Cyrus announced once he and Domino were alone. “One of the men can take her. She’s lowering the chances of getting her sister back by taking one of the men, but shoot...”
Domino was quiet, but Cyrus got the sense there was something he wanted to say.
“What now?”
“Can you blame the girl?” Domino asked. “What would you do?”
Cyrus wasn’t about to answer that. Leaving Domino, he found a sleeping spot where he could keep an eye on Katherine and settled down. He didn’t want to talk to the woman… but he needed to watch her. The mountain held a lot of dangers, she possessed many wild thoughts, and the presence of a handful of strange men didn’t help Cyrus’ worries any. If his bride were to stir in the night — for any reason — he wanted to know about it.
Chapter Seven
7. Kitty
Chapter seven
Kitty blinked against the hazy morning. Sitting up from her spot under the tree, she rolled her neck, attempting to loosen the awful ache in the side of it. She hadn’t so much slept as she’d rested with her eyes closed. With each beat of her heart, she’d said a new prayer. By the time the sun rose, the mountains were full of one woman’s fervent whispers for the return of her sister.
Little sounds filled the camp, the men moving about as quietly as they could. Kitty rubbed the sleep from her eyes and searched the spot she’d last seen Cyrus. Finding no signs of him, she carefully rose and walked on stiff legs down to the river. Nelson Bowles was there, standing watch while the horses drank.
Seeing Kitty, he nodded and lifted his hat.
“Good morning,” she murmured.
Across the river, mist half-covered the trees before rising up the sharp bluffs. Kitty took a moment to stare. For the first twenty-one years of her life, Philadelphia was all she knew. Within a span of days, she’d experienced a land wild beyond anything she could have imagined. Standing alongside the river in a silent moment, with strange sounds and sights all around, a feeling of both awe and fear filled her.
The mountains, it seemed, were a place where the deepest secrets in the world could hide. But there was more to them as well. A person looking for refuge could disappear into them. Or a person looking to hide.
A shudder ran through Kitty. Where had her dear sister spent the night? Had she slept as awfully as Kitty? Was she terrified, or holding onto her faith and believing help would come?
Unexpected nausea flew up Kitty’s stomach, and she fell to her knees. A dry retch issued from her mouth. Her fingers dug into the little stones on the bank. Heave after heave shook her body.
With the tremors subsiding, she closed her eyes and listened to the pounding in her ears. It combined with the rushing of the river, creating a song that soothed her.
The river flowed deeper into the mountains. Perhaps it flowed to Helen.
It was a small thought, but it brought Kitty the comfort she needed. For at least another minute, she would be able to go on.
Opening her eyes, she looked over to apologize to Mr. Bowles, but found him and the horses gone. Instead, Cyrus Ross stood at the river’s edge, watching her.
Kitty’s stomach grew heavy. How long had he been standing there spying on her for?
“Are you sure you want to see your future wife like this?” she scathingly asked.
With such an attitude, she knew she played with fire. Once they found Helen, the sisters would still need a home to go to. Cyrus Ross was that home. Kitty could not afford to completely push him away, and yet she could not help it.
Cyrus hooked his thumbs into his belt loops and stared into the river. A long time passed, with Kitty kneeling on the ground, rocks cutting into her knees, and him just staring at the moving water.
“I’m sorry,” he suddenly said.
Kitty’s breath caught, and she stared at him in surprise. “Oh. For...”
“That this happened.” Cyrus turned for the camp, not looking at her. “Mr. King is going to take you to Pathways.”
Kitty was up in an instant, a crazed passion driving her. She ran after Cyrus, stopping only a few feet away. “I told you I am not going.”
Cyru
s’ shoulders heaved, and his head dropped. He spun around, fury contorting his face. “You don’t know—”
“Let her come,” a voice interrupted.
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