Mountain Dreams Series: Books 1 - 3: Mountain Dreams Box Set 1

by Misty M. Beller

  Leah examined Miriam’s work, seeing the miniature stitches. Much like the embroidery she used to do in Richmond. Not her favorite, but she was certainly capable.

  While Leah settled into her needlework, Miriam began her usual chatter. “I noticed the corn husks are extra thick this year. That means we’re gonna have a hard winter. Pretty soon Gideon will start hunting again and we’ll have fresh meat, now that the weather’s cool enough to store it. I can’t wait to stop eating all this salted beef and pork.” She wrinkled her nose, calling attention to the light dusting of freckles across her cheeks.

  “Do you ever hunt with him?”

  Miriam’s face took on the look of a sad puppy. “I went a few times, but never could bring myself to actually shoot an animal. The boys used to tease me something awful.”

  “So you know how to shoot a gun?” Leah’s hand slowed as she waited for Miriam’s response.

  The girl’s face turned even softer than before, her lips curving a bit. “Papa never wanted me to do the same things the boys did. Said I was a young lady and should be treated like one.” She swallowed, her voice quivering the slightest bit. “But after he was gone, Gideon taught me. He taught me how to shoot and ride and rope. He used to let me go with him to help with the cattle sometimes. But that was mostly before Mama died.” Her voice trailed off.

  “Can you shoot as well as your brother?” Leah asked, trying to steer the conversation in a more pleasant direction.

  It worked. The sparkle began to gleam in Miriam’s green eyes again. “No one can shoot as well as Gideon. I don’t think he’s missed what he’s aimed at since he was ten years old.”

  Leah found herself sharing the smile that Miriam flashed. Then a thought came to her—an exciting idea. “Do you think you could teach me to shoot a gun, too?”

  Miriam seemed to ponder that for a moment, then her smile took on a trickster’s gleam as her gaze dropped back to the sewing in her hands. “I don’t think so.”

  If Leah didn’t know better, she would have thought Miriam had an ulterior motive. Something about the way the girl wouldn’t look her in the face…

  “And why not, if I may ask?”

  “Oh, I think it would be better if Gideon teaches you. He always says I don’t hold the gun right, and I’d hate to show you something wrong.”

  What was this little magpie up to? Surely she wasn’t trying to play matchmaker. But the aura of feigned innocence was rolling off her in waves.

  “Miriam…” Leah infused a hint of suspicion in her tone. “What are you up to?”

  Before she had time to mull through answers to her questions, Miriam snipped off her thread and set the buckskin aside.

  She stretched and yawned, obviously trying to change the subject. After leaning back in the chair, she gave Leah a too-perky smile. “So what are you planning for dinner?”

  ~

  Later that evening, Leah stirred the beef stew in her bowl while Gideon and Miriam dove into their own servings. She certainly would be happy to have something to cook besides the soured beef or pork, especially if she didn’t have to kill and gut the animal herself.

  She snuck a glance at Gideon, admiring how the green in his shirt brought out the same in his eyes. Then she noticed the dark circles and lines that had formed under those amazing eyes. Hmmm…

  He was scarfing down his food, and at first she had simply thought him hungry. Now she saw the tension in his shoulders and jaw. He’d come in late for dinner tonight, too. Was something wrong with the stock?

  “How are the herds today, Gideon?”

  He gave her a quick glance, then ducked his head for another bite. “Good. Moved them to the south valley today so they could have some protection from the snow.”

  Leah’s interest was piqued, and not just because Gideon had spoken more than two words. “Do you think it’s going to snow soon then?”

  He glanced toward the window, although it was too dark to see anything outside. “Tonight, most likely. The clouds are low n’ thick, and the moon had a halo last night. Temperature’s dropping fast.” That seemed to be all he was going to say, for he dove back into his stew, eating with an urgency that Leah now felt, too.

  When his second bowl was empty and Gideon leaned back in his chair, Leah rose and asked if he was ready for leftover apple pie.

  “Not yet.” His chair scraped on the floor as he scooted backward.

  She turned to face him, sure the question showed on her face without needing to be voiced.

  He answered as he grabbed his coat and hat from the pegs on the wall. “There’s too much to do before the snow hits. Can it wait until later tonight?”

  She offered a friendly smile to show she understood. “Of course. Is there anything I can help with outside?”

  He finished buttoning his coat and reached for two of the lanterns on the wall that poured light into the cabin. “I guess you can come help with the animals if you want. Make sure you bundle up.”

  And then he was gone. Leah tried not to be offended that he hadn’t waited for her to walk with him. Gideon may not say much usually, but his actions almost always reflected those of a gentleman. For him to decline apple pie and then leave her in his dust, he must really be worried about the weather.

  As she limped through the barn door a few minutes later, she found Gideon with a double-armload of hay, tossing it into each stall as he walked. He saw her almost immediately, and called from half-way across the barn, “Can you let the stock in and milk Bethany?”

  “Of course.” It felt good that he was finally allowing her to help, to work beside him. Leah moved as quickly as possible, bringing in the horses and milk cow, then the calf from her separate corral.

  While Bethany munched hay, Leah milked. She usually took time to enjoy the rhythm and peacefulness of the milking process, but the temperature seemed to be dropping fast. And the sounds of Gideon moving around in the barn drifted into the stall with an underlying urgency.

  After milking, she poured half of the creamy white liquid into the bucket in the calf’s stall, giving her an affectionate scratch on her glossy black neck. Next, she went in search of Gideon, finding him near the front stalls where the wagon horses were kept. He deposited the two buckets in his hands near the other three already on the ground, all full to the brim with water.

  Leah watched his face as she approached, seeing the worry lines around his eyes. “What can I do next?”

  He looked around, running a hand through his coffee-colored hair. “I think that’s it for the barn. Head on back to the house now. I’ll be in soon.”

  She studied him a moment longer. She hated to go into the cabin if there was more work to do outside. Gideon still stood with his hand in his hair, fingers pinching the ends of his short locks, while his mind ran through scenarios or to-do lists or who knew what.

  Then he seemed to realize she was watching him, and he gave her a sheepish smile, dropping his hand to his side. “Go help Miriam. I’ll be inside in a few minutes.”

  “Are you sure there’s not anything else I can do out here?”

  Gideon’s gaze locked with hers and, for a moment, he lowered the shield to allow a glimpse at his emotions. What she saw in that moment gripped her chest—fear and exhaustion and need all swirling together in those deep emerald pools.

  “Gideon…” She took an impulsive step forward, holding his gaze. “Please let me help.” She hoped he saw the pleading in her eyes, heard it in her voice. She wanted to help this man more than anything—and not just to prepare for the snow. She wanted to help shoulder his burdens, lighten his load, make him smile again.

  And then he released a pensive breath, his eyes asking if she really meant it.

  “Please.” she urged.

  “Leah…” With the sound of her name, she saw the tug-of-war playing in his heart. This fear of losing people had such control over him. God, please show him Your peace.

  At last, he breathed a sigh and spoke. “All right. I need to strin
g a rope between the house and barn, then bring a week’s worth of firewood onto the porch.”

  She nodded. “Let’s do it.”

  They worked together as a team, Leah doing her best to think ahead to his next step. It felt right, working beside this man.

  When the last load of wood was stacked on the front porch, Leah turned to scan the yard where the light shown from the lantern Gideon had hung on a post. A few snow flurries caught her attention, sending a tingle of excitement through her.

  “Look.” She pointed toward the light, and he came to stand beside her. He was almost close enough for his arm to brush hers, and his nearness consumed any other thought she’d had. What would he think if she leaned into him, rested in his strength?

  “It’s the first snow of the winter.”

  “It’s beautiful.” She spoke softly, not wanting to break the spell created by the darkness, the snow, and his nearness. The flurries were coming thicker now.

  “Yes, it is.” His voice was low, husky.

  She turned to look at him and found his gaze intent on her. Leah’s breath caught. His amazing green eyes, looking at her that way…

  The squeak of the door interrupted her thoughts, as Miriam stepped onto the porch and came to stand beside them.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Leah plunged the head of the ax into the icy bucket, more like she was churning butter than splitting wood. The metal end was so heavy it took all her effort to raise it over her shoulder, so this method worked better for her. It was the third time today she’d cracked the ice in the buckets for the stock near the barn.

  The snow from three days ago still came to her knees, and Gideon had said they might get more any time. He’d been nice enough to clear a trail between the house, barn, and outhouse. She wasn’t sure she could have tromped through the deep stuff with her weak right leg. Why had she ever thought snow was fun?

  When she finally heard the splash of water under her ax, Leah gave Bethany a pat and let herself out of the milk cow’s stall. She surveyed the barn, going through her mental checklist. The animals all had hay and water, including the stall where Gideon would put his mount when he came back from tending the herd. He was late tonight, but that didn’t surprise her. The deep snow made everything harder.

  Leah leaned the ax against a wall and let herself out of the barn, moving stiffly toward the house. She couldn’t feel her hands inside the leather gloves Miriam had let her borrow. It was colder out here than she’d thought possible.

  She cocooned her head in her blue cloak and hood, trying to focus on the fire blazing in the warm cabin. She’d left Miriam with instructions about when to remove the rice and beef bake from the oven, but she’d feel better knowing it hadn’t burned.

  A whistle from behind brought Leah’s head from her cocoon, and she turned to find Gideon riding into the yard. Drifter trotted through the snow behind him, following in the horse’s tracks. Sitting tall in his buckskins and leather hat, Gideon made an attractive picture, with his strong jaw and clean-shaven face. Would he let the mountain man beard grow again now that cold weather had come? As practical as it was, she hoped not. It would be a shame to cover up that face.

  He was headed in her direction, and Leah stood waiting for him, soaking in the sight as he approached. It wasn’t until he reined in, that she saw the bulky object sitting behind his saddle.

  She raised her gaze to his face. “What do you have?”

  The corners of his mouth played as he dismounted, not answering her question.

  She tried again. “What is it?”

  He turned to her, a hint of pride playing across his face. “I brought you fresh elk meat. That’s why I was late for dinner. This fellow came across my path, and I couldn’t pass him up.”

  Leah felt her eyes widen as she followed Gideon around to the other side of the horse. Draped behind the saddle was a large leather-wrapped bundle with a rack of antlers poking through an opening. Good thing the rest of the animal was covered. A wave of sadness washed over her at the thought of the majestic animal dead. She forced herself to remember this was just the pattern of life, God providing for their needs.

  Gideon seemed to notice her reticence, and touched her arm as he spoke gently, “I’d better get this guy to the barn, then I’ll be in the house.”

  Leah inhaled a breath and turned to face him, forcing a bright smile on her face. “It will be great to have fresh meat.”

  Gideon’s eyes flickered and the corners of his mouth pulled upward, as if he understood her struggle and was proud of her. “I’ll see you in the house then.”

  Something about Gideon’s understanding left Leah disappointed with herself. She needed to be stronger if she was going to live in these rugged mountains. She would be stronger.

  ~

  The next morning, Gideon found himself splitting wood at the stump beside the cabin before he headed out to check the stock for the day.

  Swing. Thwak! The wood flew from the block, landing with the other pieces that had already collected in two neat piles. He reached for another round log and placed it upright on the stump.

  Swing. Thwak! The steady effort kept his blood pumping and his muscles warm, despite the polar freeze that had come upon them during the last week.

  Swing. Thwak! This time, he allowed the ax to rest on the stump as he straightened and wiped a buckskin-clad arm across his forehead.

  “Are you ready for a cup of coffee?”

  The sweet voice caught him off guard. He turned to find Leah at the corner of the house, looking like a real live angel. The steam wafting from the mug in her hand circled around her head in a halo, and her smile was soft, like a morning fog.

  It wasn’t until she stepped forward, offering the mug in both hands like the gift of the magi, that he realized he was staring. Closing his gaping jaw, he reached to receive the gift, his eyes sneaking back up for one more glimpse of her face. His gaze brushed hers, and he was pretty sure he mumbled “Thank you.”

  She turned to survey the wood chunks piled on the ground. “You’ve been working hard this morning.”

  What should he say to that? She hadn’t asked a question, but she seemed to expect an answer. He’d always hated small talk.

  Finally, he shrugged. “A little.”

  She turned back to him then, as if she could read his thoughts. “Would you teach me how to shoot a gun?”

  The force of her question knocked him backward, and he braced his right foot for balance. “Teach you to shoot?”

  “Yes. Miriam said you taught her, and you’re the best shot in the area.”

  “No.” He turned back to the stump and reached for his ax.

  “Gideon…” The sound of his name on her lips stopped his retreat, and he pivoted slowly back toward her. He made the mistake of looking in her doe eyes, full of hope and longing. There was no way he could resist their pull.

  “All right. Can you be ready in half an hour?”

  The look of joy that flowed over her face sent a thrill through his chest. He would have fought a hundred Indians single-handed to bring on that expression again.

  She was right on time, meeting him on the front porch with an eager smile. Gideon led the way toward the back of the cabin where they could shoot into the side of the mountain.

  When they were positioned about seventy feet from the tree line, he took a deep breath and held up his gun. “This is a Winchester repeating rifle. It can fire several rounds without reloading, you just pump this handle.”

  She looked on with rapt attention while he demonstrated how to load the gun and use the lever action to cock it. Her presence so near was unnerving.

  Finally, he got to the part where he could raise the gun and shoot, and the familiar feel of the solid wood frame soothed his fraying nerves. One shot… two… three… All right on target.

  Lowering the rifle, Gideon released a breath, his emotions now firmly in hand. “You wanna try?”

  She reached for the gun, green eyes sp
arkling like the mossy rocks in the creek. She held the rifle against her shoulder, high enough that it tucked into her collar bone. That would never do. The kick of the gun would likely dislocate or crack the bone. He took a deep breath, then moved into her space to help position the shooter.

  He was careful not to touch her, but from the corner of his vision he could see Leah’s wide eyes on his face. He didn’t glance up, just kept his focus on the rifle. The steam from her breath warmed his icy hands.

  As soon as the gun was in place, Gideon almost jumped backward, putting a good pace in between them.

  “Go ahead and aim for that same tree.” The breathless feeling in his chest surely came from the frigid air.

  She squinted down the barrel for several seconds, and he could see her hands quiver from the weight of the piece. When the boom came, it shook her entire body, knocking her backwards. It was instinct that made him lunge forward, although he didn’t have to move far to catch her.

  For a long moment he held her, soft and warm in his arms as she leaned against him. His body clasped her tightly even though his brain screamed at him to let her go. His brain finally won, and he stepped back, keeping his hands on her shoulders until he was sure she was steady.

  “You all right?”

  “Yeah.” Her voice sounded breathless. Was she hurt? Or were her insides doing flips the way his were?

  She turned those wide, doe eyes on him again. “I guess I wasn’t quite ready for that.”

  The wonder in her gaze sent a falling sensation through his chest. He blinked, forcing his focus back on the rifle.

  “I should have warned you—it kicks pretty hard.”

  She raised one corner of her perfectly-shaped mouth. “Now you tell me.”

  The next time Leah raised the rifle to her shoulder, her hands were steady and she braced one foot slightly behind. When the gun fired, she swayed a bit but kept both feet planted. Without looking at him, she ratcheted the lever and fired again, repeating the process until the gun would shoot no more.