This Healing Journey

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This Healing Journey Page 8

by Misty M. Beller


  She bobbed her chin once. It seemed she was always hungry. If only he had more to offer her than meat, beans, and cornbread. Even the beans were disappearing quickly. He should probably try to simmer a meat stew for their evening meal, although he wasn’t sure what making that involved. Did he just fill a pot with roasted meat and water? He had no raw meat unless he went hunting this afternoon.

  Which he couldn’t do. Itu couldn’t be left for the stranger lurking in the woods to come steal her away.

  Perhaps it was his imagination, but the sound of horses drifted from outside. He pushed to his feet, rifle in hand, and stepped to the door. He’d replaced the frame and built a new door but had intentionally notched a crack between two wooden slats so he could see who was outside.

  Indeed, two horses stopped in front of the cabin, and the flash of blue skirt sent a jolt through his pulse.

  He’d been hoping Miss Grant would come but hadn’t let himself expect her. He sent a grin toward Itu, then opened the door and did his best not to let his pleasure show too strongly on his face.

  Miss Grant approached the cabin with Reuben trailing her, both of them carrying saddle bags that looked loaded down.

  “Welcome.” He opened the door wider and stepped aside so they could enter.

  She gave him a smile that was almost sheepish, yet it lit her pretty face and made his chest tighten. This woman possessed something special, in looks, abilities, and something else that was hard to lay a finger on.

  He’d need to do a better job of protecting himself if he planned to stay immune to her charms.

  “We came to visit”—she lifted the saddle bag she carried—"and brought some food supplies, too.”

  He motioned toward Itu. “Come in. I think she’s glad to see you.”

  The girl’s face had lit up like a gas light, and Miss Grant moved straight to her. She deposited her bundle on the floor, then sat beside the bed pallet and took Itu’s hand. Her voice was too soft for him to catch the words as she stroked the girl’s hair, but the child seemed to take in her presence like a starving person would food.

  “Hope you don’t mind the comp’ny.” Reuben spoke beside him, and Nathaniel tore his focus away from the females to glance at the man.

  “Glad for it.” He couldn’t help looking back at the females. “I think she’s even happier than I am.”

  Reuben chuckled. “I figured you haven’t been able to leave the cabin much, so you might like a hand cutting hay or whatever you need to work on.”

  Nathaniel turned back to him, brows raised. He’d come to work?

  The man met his gaze. “Hannah won’t need us around as long as she’s with that little one.”

  True. And the thought of a full afternoon of work—work that truly needed doing—along with another man to help, was almost too good to be true.

  Yet... “I’d appreciate that a lot, but I’m not sure it’s safe to leave them here alone. This morning, I found a spot of ground trampled behind some trees just outside the edge of the clearing. I think they’re still watching the cabin.”

  Reuben turned to scan the trees through the open door. “They likely are. If all three of us leave, they’d probably come and take her back to their lodges.”

  “I thought of that, but the doctor said the infection’s pretty bad in her leg. He may have to amputate to keep it from spreading through her body. If she leaves this place where she’s receiving proper care, I’m afraid she won’t make it.”

  Reuben leaked out a long breath, his gaze still focused out the door. “All right then. You go do what you need to. I’ll stay with Hannah.”

  That was an offer he couldn’t refuse, not with his cattle neglected and weeks’ worth of work waiting for him in his pastures.

  Chapter Ten

  These temptations strike at my weakest. Yet, I must be strong.

  ~ Nathaniel

  “I can handle myself with an Indian as well as you, Reuben Scott. There’s no need for you to sit and watch over me.” Hannah forced herself to stay calm, but this overprotectiveness was getting out of hand. “I meet Indians all the time when I’m out with our herds. Did I mention our aunt is an Indian? I know exactly how to be friendly and not show fear. And I know well how to use my rifle should the need arise.”

  She reached for her gun and drew it nearer where she was sitting. From the day her parents had given it to her on her twelfth birthday, she’d not left their home site without it.

  Her brother’s face looked uncertain. She couldn’t blame him completely, as he’d not known her long enough to understand how competent she was. But honestly.

  She pointed toward the door. “Go help Mr. Peak like you planned. He needs you a lot more than I do.” It wasn’t that she didn’t want her brother’s company. It was just that she couldn’t stand him watching over her like she was helpless.

  His gaze slid from her to the girl, then over to the rifle. Finally, he focused on her face again. “You won’t leave the cabin for any reason?”

  She nodded. “Just let me make sure we have enough water and firewood first, then I won’t even open the door.” If that made him feel better, it was a small concession.

  A long breath slid out of him. “All right. I’ll get the water and wood.”

  It was all she could do not to roll her eyes as he stood and reached for a pot to fill. She was accustomed to being the eldest, the one who gave the orders and worried when concern was called for.

  Having an older brother now would take some getting used to.

  NATHANIEL’S MUSCLES ached as they rode back from the hayfield, but it was the good kind of hurt, the kind brought on by hard work on his own ranch. With Reuben by his side, they’d managed almost as much as he’d have accomplished in two days on his own.

  The only thing that kept peace from settling over him was his worry for Hannah—or rather, Miss Grant. Since he’d heard Reuben use her given name several times now, it was getting harder not to think of her that way too. He liked the name. It seemed to suit her quiet strength.

  Had she seen any sign of the Indians while they were gone? Lord, let her not have had trouble with them. Reuben didn’t seem concerned, so Nathaniel was trying not to be either.

  As they rode into the quiet clearing, a steady stream of smoke rose from the cabin’s chimney. That was a good sign.

  They rode toward the barn, and after dismounting, Nathaniel reached for the other man’s reins. “I’ll tie your horse while I put mine up. You can go on in and check Miss Grant.”

  Reuben didn’t object, and his mouth held a grim line as he nodded and handed over the reins, then strode toward the house.

  Nathaniel made quick work of stripping the saddle from Raven and settling her in a stall. He’d tie her out to graze after his guests left. No sounds came from the cabin as he strode across the ground between the buildings. The quiet should’ve eased his worries.

  But the knot in his gut seemed to ball tighter with every step.

  When he reached the door, he held his rifle secure and listened for a second before reaching for the latchstring. He almost knocked, but if Indians held them captive, he certainly didn’t need to alert them of his presence.

  Instead, he pushed the door open. His gaze went first to the pallet where Itu lay. The child was there, her eyes closed and a peaceful expression on her face.

  “Shh...” Miss Grant stepped in front of him, pulling his gaze to her pretty face. A very near face. She pressed a finger to her lips, drawing his attention to her beautifully-formed mouth.

  He forced his focus up to her eyes.

  She cut her gaze to the pallet. “She’s sleeping.” Miss Grant stepped back and waved him in. “I’ve made chicken and dumplings. Are you hungry?”

  It was that moment that the fantastic smell hit his nose, taking him back to Mama’s kitchen when he’d come in from a long day working horses. His belly gnawed loud enough Miss Grant could probably hear it.

  She moved toward his table, and he stepped inside
the room, his eyes tracking her to the steaming pot. He’d never seen a more beautiful sight than that woman scooping out the savory goodness she was piling on plates. Glory be.

  Rueben straightened from a bucket of water he’d been washing in, shook his hands dry, and settled into a chair at the table. Clearly, those should be Nathaniel’s next steps, too. He’d been eating by himself and with a camp full of men for so long, he’d almost forgotten how to be civilized.

  When he and Reuben were seated, Miss Grant settled plates in front of them. He could do little more than soak in the steam and the intoxicating aroma.

  “I hope it’s as good as all that.”

  He jerked his eyes open to catch the smile tugging at her lips. He hadn’t meant to be quite so enraptured, but he’d been eating beans and cornbread at every meal for far too long.

  He offered a sheepish smile. “It just smells so good. I haven’t been this spoiled in a while.”

  “Shall we say a blessing?” Reuben’s voice rumbled beside him.

  A pang hit his chest. This was something else he’d not done in years. The habit had died away a few weeks after he signed up with the cavalry.

  He dipped his head while Reuben half-spoke, half-whispered a short prayer. Though not long, his words seemed earnest. Not a rote repeating of something he’d memorized, but a real conversation with a friend.

  After the “Amen,” Nathaniel picked up his fork and held it reverently over a dumpling. Then he dove in and raised the bite to his mouth. Amazing. The rich brown sauce was different than what his mama had made, but, oh, he’d never tasted anything that pleased his tasters so well.

  He raised his head to tell Miss Grant exactly how good the meal was, but she’d moved across the room and knelt beside the fire, stirring something in his kettle. “Aren’t you going to eat with us?” He spoke in a whisper that hopefully wouldn’t wake the child.

  Miss Grant turned to him with a half-smile and a shake of her head. That seemed to be the only answer she planned to give, maybe because she was trying to be quiet.

  Still, he couldn’t squelch the disappointment. Having her at the table would have been half his enjoyment in the meal, no matter how satisfying the food.

  He could feel the weight of Reuben’s regard on him, so he dipped his face back down to his dish and loaded another forkful. No sense in this man thinking Nathaniel had intentions toward Miss Grant.

  He didn’t. No matter how attracted he was to the woman, there was no room in his life for a time-consuming romance.

  Having an injured child had already turned his plans upside down.

  AT LAST. HANNAH GUIDED her gelding over the path that was becoming a regular trail, as much as they’d traveled back and forth. And she was finally traveling it alone, a much needed respite from being constantly surrounded by people in the Scotts’ cabin.

  She loved her family, certainly. But she could only handle so much together time before her nerves worked themselves into knots.

  This bit of peace with only her horse and the nature around her was exactly what she needed to regain her perspective.

  A few minutes into the ride, Sterling’s ears perked, and his muscles tightened under her saddle.

  “What is it, boy?” She gripped her reins tighter but forced her legs to loosen so she didn’t clamp the animal around the sides. She had her rifle in its scabbard, but she wouldn’t reach for it unless whatever the horse saw proved a threat.

  Through the trees ahead, a motion of brown shifted. Several bodies. A flash of white gave her an idea of what the animals probably were. She reached down to pat the gelding’s shoulder. “It’s all right, boy. Just deer.”

  This would be a prime opportunity to restock Reuben’s meat supply if they needed it, but she was pretty sure his brother and sister-in-law had as much as they could eat.

  What of Mr. Peak? He certainly needed more food, but his needs were along the lines of flour and milk and eggs. Which was why she’d brought the two latter ingredients from Cathleen’s larder. He’d have to secure the rest of his needs from Butte.

  The deer perked their heads as she and Sterling gave them a wide berth. A nice herd of seven or eight, with two fawns just losing their spots. Seeing God’s creations in the wild like this always sent a thrill through her.

  Sterling eased back into his normal stride as they continued on, and she let her mind wander to their destination. How was Itu faring today? Had Mr. Peak seen any more signs of the girl’s family?

  It seemed harsh to keep her away from them, but Hannah shared his concern that they would take the child away without the means to give her proper care. The thought that she might die of her injuries squeezed a hard knot into Hannah’s throat, raising tears to sting her eyes.

  Her gelding sprang to attention again, staring hard into the distance. Horses were as good as any guard dog, that was for certain.

  She squinted to see what had raised Sterling’s notice. Finally, a movement in the trees ahead snagged her gaze. Not an animal this time. At least, not only an animal.

  The horse approaching in the distance carried a rider.

  She kept Sterling moving toward the oncoming person but raised her rifle onto her lap so she’d have easy access. Not that she planned to use it, but she’d learned long ago that you never knew what kind of people you’d run into wandering in the mountain wilderness. Keeping a gun handy was simply a wise practice, especially for a woman.

  As the stranger neared, she finally got a clear look at him. His buckskin clothing wasn’t unusual, nor the fact that he rode a mule. Those sure-footed animals could be helpful on the rocky terrain. The bright red hair poking out from under his leather hat was a bit unusual, especially when matched with his boyish face.

  They both reined to a stop when near enough to speak. He raised his hat just enough so she could see daylight over the top of his copper locks. “How-dy.” His voice held a higher pitch than most men’s, and rose even shriller on the last syllable. An odd way of speaking, but maybe he lived alone in the mountains without much chance to socialize.

  She nodded a greeting. “Hello.” There was no need for a long conversation, but he looked like he had more to say.

  He propped a wrist on the front of his saddle. “I’m lookin’ fer a town around here. You’uns know where it’s at?”

  “You mean Butte?” That was the only organized settlement she knew of, but she was hardly a local expert.

  He tilted his head, and something about the look made her wonder if he was a few logs short of a wall. “Maybe. Jest lookin’ fer folks.”

  Hmm... She turned back to the path she’d been riding. “If you follow this trail a half hour or so, it’ll run into a wagon road. I think Butte is about five hours’ ride if you stay on those tracks.” Probably not the best directions, but he should see Reuben’s cabin when he reached the wagon trace. He could ask for better details there.

  Or maybe it was better he didn’t. Pa and Reuben had gone to cut hay in a lower pasture, leaving Ma, Cathleen, and the elder Mrs. Scott at the cabin. She’d hate for this fellow to unnerve them.

  Without another word, the man lifted his hat again—apparently in farewell—then shook the reins at his mule. “He-re we go.” He spoke the words with that same high-pitched tone.

  He seemed to be mumbling to himself as he passed but didn’t spare her another glance.

  She couldn’t help watching him ride away. An interesting creature, to say the least.

  The rest of the ride was blessedly uneventful, and as she rode into the clearing where Mr. Peak’s forlorn cabin sat, she started up a whistle so he’d know she was there. At least the house didn’t seem to lean anymore. And she’d noticed the new door and frame when she and Reuben were there the day before.

  Now it just needed a good cleaning—and a wood floor.

  She’d almost begun sweeping away the cobwebs and leaves littering the corners the day before but had contented herself with Itu and cooking the meal. Today, she may not exercise so
much restraint. As tidy as Mr. Peak seemed to keep his person, she would have expected him to care a little more about his surroundings.

  There were still so many things she didn’t know about him.

  As she scanned the yard, a head popped up from the barn roof. Even though she was trying to spot him, the sudden motion in the place she least expected made her heart surge. Steady there, Grant.

  “Hello.” He waved, then disappeared again. Must be repairing the roof up there. She’d noticed the barn leaked in several places that day they found Itu.

  She rode toward the structure, and Mr. Peak strode out from behind it as she reined her gelding to a halt. When she slid to the ground, he reached for her reins.

  “I didn’t expect company again so soon.” His face wore a smile, but his gaze seemed tired. Maybe it was simply that she was standing near enough to see the creases at the edges of his amber eyes. Even weary, those eyes had the power to hold her.

  Chapter Eleven

  So much to accomplish. My God-given nature won’t allow me to ignore it.

  ~ Hannah

  Hannah forced herself to turn away from Mr. Peak’s gaze, not hand over her reins as he’d asked. Instead, she focused on untying her saddle bags. “I brought more food supplies and thought I could entertain Itu while you do your work.”

  “I’d appreciate that.” His voice rumbled behind her. “She’s been sleeping a lot today, but I think her pain’s still pretty bad. She was crying in the night.”

  “Poor girl.” She turned to see if she’d find more in his expression than his words gave away. Those were definitely dark shadows under his eyes. “Was she awake all night?”

  He turned so she couldn’t see his face well. “A lot of it. I’ll settle your horse if you wanna go on in.”

  “I can do it. I didn’t come to give you more work.” She led Sterling into the open barn door, scanning the inside as her eyes grew accustomed to the dimness. “Getting the roof patched?”

  He followed her inside. “I hope so. The roofs on both buildings need all new shakes, but I don’t have time for that right now. Not until I get the hay cut and stored.” He did sound tired. Weary.

 

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