Daniel’s jaw flexed.
Was she being too harsh? He was trying to help. No. He wasn’t being reasonable. She lifted her chin.
He sighed. “All right. We’ll follow the creek, but not now. It’s too dark.”
She suppressed a victorious grin and forced herself to sound calm. “Of course. We can start in the morning.”
Joy zinged through her as she prepared for bed that night. She didn’t even care that they ate fish again. Tomorrow they would start on a new path. The creek didn’t seem long on the map. She might be with Pa by day’s end.
She lay on her bedroll, staring at the stars. What were those three dots on the map? Could Daniel be correct? Was following this creek a mistake? How much time would they lose if they had to turn around and come back to the very spot where they camped tonight?
As far as she could tell, the map, simple as it was, had aligned with each landmark they’d come to. Still, no map was perfect. Certainly not a map drawn in such haste. Those dots were no more than a penmanship error. A few accidental splotches causing them so much confusion.
Chapter 24
September, 1853 (4 months before)
Roxbury, Massachusetts
Alice held her breath as she stepped down from the hired carriage. The humiliation of sleeping on pallets like servants was at an end, thanks to Richard’s friend, Mr. Middleton, losing his job at the mill, but how would the Clarkes react to Alice and Richard’s unannounced arrival?
Her gaze locked on the dark windows of the quiet farmhouse. “I told you we ought to have sent word. They’re not at home.”
“There wasn’t time.” Richard paid the driver and bid him good-day. “The Middletons will need every morsel and penny they can scrape together until Reuben attains new employment. We couldn’t impose any longer.” Richard set her carpetbag atop the trunks the driver had left on the Clarkes’ front porch.
Her nose wrinkled. “It seems to me Mrs. Middleton’s cooking already required quite a bit of scraping.”
“Hush, Alice. Do not be so ungrateful.” Richard knocked thrice on the front door.
She rolled her eyes. “What are you doing?”
He shrugged. “You’re not always right, you know. Perhaps they’re at the back of the house and did not hear our approach.”
They waited several seconds but no sounds of life came from inside.
Alice stuck her tongue at Richard. “Told you.”
He made a face in return. “They’re probably in their woodshop. Wait here, your highness, and I’ll go check.”
“Yes, sir.” She gave him a mock salute, then followed him off the porch. “You’re probably right. I’m sure Mrs. Clarke is just inside sawing a table leg.”
“Har. Har.”
The door to the woodshop opened just before they reached it and Benjamin emerged.
His eyes widened, then scanned the area behind Alice as if seeking escape. It was the same reaction he’d had the last time she saw him. Apparently, he’d been unaware that his mother had invited Alice to dine with his family. Within seconds of seeing her, Benjamin had developed a sudden headache and disappeared for the night. What excuse would he contrive this time?
“Benjamin.” Richard offered his hand.
Benjamin shook it. “Richard.” Benjamin acknowledged Alice with a stiff nod. “Miss Stevens.” He turned back to Richard. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“Yes, sorry. This visit is a bit of a surprise to us as well.” Richard scratched the back of his neck. “It’s something of a long story, I’m afraid.”
Alice stepped forward. “We knocked at the door, but no one answered.”
Benjamin kept his gaze fixed on Richard. “Father took Mother to the city. He had a delivery to make and they were invited to dine with friends. I suppose you’ll have to visit another time. Sorry.” He turned toward the woodshop.
Alice took another step forward. “We need somewhere to stay.”
Benjamin whirled around, his dark brown eyes narrowed at her.
She swallowed.
Richard cleared his throat. “We didn’t mean to spring it on you like that.” He cast Alice a disapproving glance. “I know it’s an inexcusable imposition and completely boorish of us to arrive unannounced, but—”
“I heard about Caroline’s elopement and your mother’s”—Benjamin cleared his throat—“accident. Is she still in the hospital?”
Alice nodded. “And she insists on returning to Father as soon as she’s recovered.”
Benjamin looked at Richard. “I thought you were staying with a friend.”
“We were, but that option is no longer viable. I was hoping you’re family would take Alice in until Daniel’s return.”
Benjamin was shaking his head before Richard finished speaking. “She can’t stay here.”
Richard straightened. “Whyever not?”
Benjamin crossed his arms, avoiding eye contact. “She just can’t. You’ll need to find somewhere else. Perhaps—”
“That’s it?” Alice stepped toward him. “We tell you of the danger our father has become, and you turn your back on us?”
Benjamin’s arms fell. “I’m not telling you to go home.”
“Good.” Richard nodded. “Because that’s not an option.” He faced the farmhouse and started back toward the porch. “I think we’ll just wait and see what Mrs. Clarke has to say.”
“Wait!” Benjamin chased Richard across the yard. “I may have another solution.”
January 1854 (Present Day)
California Wilderness
When Daniel and Eliza mounted up the next morning, the sky was a bright blue speckled with clouds, though the mountains still cast their little camp in shadow. Despite his conviction that it was a waste of time, Daniel led the way along the banks of the narrow, winding creek. The shade of the trees in the gorge turned the day’s cold winds frigid, stinging his face and causing his nose to run. He sniffed and tugged his wool scarf higher.
He glanced at Eliza and pulled his scarf down again. “Are you doing all right?”
She drew her own scarf down. “F-fine, thank you.” She flashed him a smile before replacing the garment over her face. He returned his attention to the trail ahead.
About two hours later, they came to a third split in the creek, where the map indicated they should turn. According to the map, however, this split should resemble a T—a dead end with a choice to go north or south. Instead, it looked very much like a Y.
Daniel checked the sun’s position in the sky. One branch appeared to be heading more easterly than it should, though the other pointed directly south. He rubbed his neck through his scarf.
Eliza leaned from her horse to peer over his shoulder at the map. Her nearness made it difficult to concentrate.
“May I see that?” She snatched the map from his stiff fingers. She had changed since entering the mountains. The higher they climbed, the more impatient she became. Now she jabbed at the map. “South. See? It says we should go south.” She crammed the map back into his hands. He managed to wrap his fingers around it before the wind swept it away.
She reined her horse toward the southern fork and spurred it forward.
“Wait.”
She didn’t respond. Had she heard him?
He urged his horse after her. “Eliza, wait.”
She pulled to a stop and twisted to face him. “Did you say something?”
“I don’t think this is right. I think we should go back to the main river.”
“Of course it’s right. The map said south and we’re headed south.” She spurred her horse to continue.
Almost three hours later, Eliza reined her horse to a stop at the end of the gorge where the creek disappeared. The mountains sloped sharply upward in every direction except the way that they had come. There were no signs of anyone having been there in the recent past.
She sagged like the sails on the ship when there were no winds to hold them up. He isn’t here. Tears welled and a lump fo
rmed in her throat. She’d failed again. I’m sorry, Mama.
The clop of Daniel’s horse grew louder.
She swallowed the lump and swiped at the icy trails left by the escaping tears as he pulled up beside her. She glanced at him, then dropped her head. “He’s not here.”
“I tried to tell you. It’s the wrong creek.” His tone was a mix of compassion and frustration.
She searched his face. “But the map…?”
“We never found those dots, remember? They must be more important than however many creeks are between where your father might be and the last northward bend.” He shrugged. “Perhaps Farley wasn’t inclined to draw the extra lines to show the other creeks, or maybe he couldn’t remember exactly how many there were.”
Eliza ran a hand over the long braid she’d fashioned that morning, then tossed it over her shoulder. She should have listened to Daniel sooner. She was too anxious to reach that X on the map—to find Pa. Bits of a childhood memory verse floated to her from some long ago night spent at Mama’s knee by the fire, learning to read from God’s Word as they made their way across the prairies. `A fool’s way is right to him, but he that listens to counsel is wise’.
She grimaced. “Back to the river?”
He clamped a hand on his hat as a gust of wind threatened to sweep it from his head. “Let’s eat first.” He pointed to a cluster of low-growing trees. “They might provide some shelter from this wind.”
After dismounting, they walked into the trees where the wind was gentled by the thick branches. They sat side by side on the ground eating a dinner of salted beef and hard tack that they soaked with their water. Clouds rolled in as they ate, blocking the warmth of the sun.
They’d been eating for several minutes in silence when a gust of wind caused Eliza to shiver. Shoving the last bite of soppy hard tack into her mouth, she shrank into her coat. Drowsiness lulled her.
“I think you’re right.”
She jumped at the sound of his voice. She was right? About what? Another gust of frigid air snaked down her collar.
He tipped toward her and tugged the collar of her coat closed. “This is nothing compared to the winter winds we have back home. There isn’t even any snow.” His eyes sparkled as he leaned back and pointed to her quivering fingers. “You never would have made it if you’d come home with me.”
He meant to tease her, but for some reason an ache squeezed her chest. Under the guise of adjusting her coat, she turned her face from him. Why should it matter that he believed she would not do well where his fiancée thrived—where he planned to spend the rest of his life?
Chapter 25
Frequent wind gusts blurred Eliza’s vision as they rode back to the river. Then the gusts merged into a continuous strong wind.
She reined her horse to a stop. “I can’t see.” She wiped at her eyes, but the tears kept coming. The world around her was nothing but blotches of color.
“I’m having trouble, too.” Daniel’s voice carried on the wind. A tan blur that might have been a tumbleweed blew past and Daniel’s horse danced sideways. “We’d better dismount and walk the horses. This wind is making them nervous.”
Eliza gritted her teeth as she slid to the ground. It would take them forever to lead the horses out of this place.
The temperature plummeted.
Twilight gave way to the black of night before they reached the river. Large clouds blocked the moon and stars. Daniel’s horse, three feet ahead of her, was no more than an inky shape, moving through the dark.
The frigid air slapped the exposed parts of her face and pushed its way through her layers of clothing. It sank through her skin, deep into her aching bones.
Where was the river? It was too cold, too far. The world, these mountains, were too big. How would she ever find Pa? She wouldn’t. He was gone. Lost.
No! I promised Mama.
She pressed her lips together. This was just wind. And cold. She’d dealt with both before. She could do it again.
She forced her feet forward, stumbling over the rocks and small plants littering the banks of the creek.
A burning cold grew in her lungs.
Walking against the powerful gusts became too much. Her legs trembled beneath her, threatening to give way. The wind kept her from falling forward. She sank to her knees on the rocks.
Still clutching her mare’s reins, shivers racked her body.
The click of Daniel’s horse’s hooves continued across the rocky terrain, fading away.
Then the sound stopped.
The crunch of boots grew louder.
Daniel’s coming.
He dropped to his knees in front of her. “Are you all right? Are you hurt?”
She shook her head. “N-not hurt. Just cold and t-tired.”
He wrapped one arm behind her and stuck another beneath her legs. Then he lifted her, cradling her close, turning first one way then another.
She hugged his neck. His arms were warm. Safe. Like coming home.
No. He wasn’t her home. He belonged to Alice. She had no right to enjoy being held by him.
She searched for the strength to push away—to lift her head from his chest.
His neck and shoulder muscles stretched as if his face was tipping upward. His groan rumbled against her cheek.
She relaxed. She was safe here.
“You’re going to have to walk, Eliza. It’s too dark…”
He kept talking, but she quit listening. He was right. She needed to walk. He didn’t belong to her.
She leaned away from him as he tilted her to a standing position. Her feet touched the rocky ground. She kept sinking until she’d curled into a ball, her arms pressed between her thighs and her chest. She tucked her chin.
He crouched beside her and spoke near her ear. “Did you hear me?”
She pulled back to examine him. Had he said something? Her eyelids grew heavy. She let them close.
The warmth of his breath tickled her ear. “I said, it’s too dark to keep going, but we can’t camp here in the gorge. It isn’t safe. It’s too steep here for me to carry you. I need you to walk on your own. Can you do that?”
Eliza didn’t bother raising her face. She simply nodded. She’d crawl if she had to.
“Look at me.” He took her face in his hands, tipping it up. “Open your eyes!”
She wrenched her eyelids open.
“Good. I’m going to find a place to get the horses out of the gorge. Wait here.” Warmth faded as he strode away. “I’ll be right back to help you. Stay awake.”
Something shifted in her mind. Sure, he would come back to help her, but the second she didn’t need his help, he’d be gone. Gone to his Alice.
Pa was gone. Daniel was going to leave. It isn’t fair.
It’s what you deserve.
She let her head tilt forward, her eyes slamming shut.
Loud boot steps crunched across the rocks, keeping Eliza from sleep.
Strong hands pulled her to her feet.
Daniel.
Why wouldn’t he leave her alone? If he did, blessed sleep would save her from this misery. Despite sitting on the coldest, hardest, lumpiest ground in the world, the warm fingers of sleep pulled on her mind, a soothing promise just out of reach.
“Eliza!” Daniel shook her once. Then harder. “Eliza, look at me.” His fingers dug into her upper arms.
She groaned. Her legs wobbled like noodles. She’d collapse if he released her.
“Eliza.”
She squinted at him, her vision blurry. “What?”
“You’ve got to stay awake.”
“Mmmm.” Her eyelids drifted shut again.
He set her on the ground.
She pulled her knees close and buried her face.
Something warm wrapped around her. Then strong arms scooped her up and carried her somewhere. Couldn’t he leave her be? He stopped and lowered himself to the ground, settling her in his lap. She pressed into his warmth. His arms cinched around her.
He rotated them both, and the wind lessened.
After a while, the chill left her skin, but she started shaking. Something scratched her neck. Her fingers sought the annoyance and found the coarse fabric of a man’s wool collar. She was wearing his coat.
Wait. I’m not shaking.
Through the coat, she felt it. Daniel’s shivering!
“Daniel!” She leaned back to see his face. His eyes were closed. “You have to take your coat. You’re freezing.”
“I’m f-fine. You need it more.” His arms tightened around her.
Where were they? Moonlight peeked between clouds, illuminating their surroundings. He had tucked them into a crevice in the side of the gorge. His back was to the opening. She peered past him for anything they might use to block the gap.
A solid wall of water rushed toward them.
She screamed.
Daniel’s eyes flew open and followed her gaze.
Rumbling filled her ears.
He leaped to his feet, pulling her up with him. Grabbing her waist, he hoisted her against the cliff. Her torso crested the ridge of the crevice. She caught hold of the nearest bush. Hauled herself onto the hillside. Rolled onto her belly. Reached for Daniel.
They clasped arms at the elbows.
Water thundered into the crevice. It soaked Daniel to his thighs. Plants and other debris slammed against him before being washed away with the surging torrent.
“Daniel!” The current threatened to rip him away from her. Please God, help me!
Daniel’s fingers squeezed her arms. His legs thrashed in the water. Then he shoved himself upward. He must have found a foothold.
He grabbed the same branch she had used.
She let go and he tried to pull himself out.
The branch snapped. He slipped backward. She caught his arms as his feet smacked the water. Her muscles screamed.
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