Her breath lodged in her throat until, at last, he crawled onto the top of the rock. Standing, he grinned down at her, hands on his hips and cocky as a rooster in a hen house.
She chuckled and crossed her arms. “Proud of yourself?”
He nodded, then pulled the rope from his shoulder and surveyed his surroundings. “Now to find a place to secure this.” He disappeared for a few minutes before returning. “Stand back!” He tossed the end of the rope down the rock face.
The sun emerged from a cloud, blinding her. She stumbled back as the tail of the heavy rope whooshed passed her cheek. That was close. Lifting her hand to shade her face, she squinted up at Daniel. “What am I to do?”
“First, tie the satchel and your bag to the rope and I’ll hoist them up.”
She did as he said and in minutes he tossed the empty rope back down the rock face.
She set her hand on her hip. “Now what?”
“Now tie the rope around your waist. Be certain it’s secure but won’t cinch too tight.”
After wrapping the rope around her waist and tying the figure-eight knot Pa had taught her, she gave each strand a few good tugs to check that her knot wouldn’t come undone. “It’s secure. Now what?” Did he intend to hoist her up? He was strong, but she didn’t relish the idea of being scraped along the surface of the boulder as her bag had been.
He wrapped his end of the rope behind him and held it in his hands on either side of his waist. “Grab the rope in front of you with both hands.”
She did and he pulled the rope through his hands till it grew taut between them.
“Place one foot against the rock and pull on the rope as you walk up its side.”
He wanted her to walk up the side of this behemoth? Walk? That made no sense. She examined the rock. Where was she to put her foot?
“Start by putting one foot against the rock.”
She considered her booted feet hidden beneath her skirts. “Which foot?”
“Doesn’t matter. Just pick one.”
Just pick one. Of course. She lifted her right foot and pressed the sole of her boot against the rock. What am I doing?
“A little higher.” He took up the slack in the rope. “And make sure your heel is pressed firm against the rock. Lean back so you can get your foot flat.”
The rope tugged at her waist.
“I’ve got you.”
Lord, help me. She raised her foot to about knee height, but her heel was still off the rock. She pressed her heel down and wobbled sideways. “Ah!”
“Use the rope!”
She righted herself and walked her hands higher up the rope. She pressed her heel down and leaned away from the rock. The action caused her skirts to lift well past her ankles. She giggled. Her aunt’s face would turn positively scarlet if she could see her now.
“Perfect, now use the rope and your feet against the rock to begin lifting yourself up. You’re going to kind of walk your way up.”
There he went, talking about walking up this rock again. She gave him a look that let him know exactly how crazy he sounded.
He laughed. “Just trust me.”
Trust him. He’d asked her to do that in one way or another from the moment she’d boarded the Virginia. And she did. Now. She trusted him.
Pressing her lips together, she pulled herself up until her left boot left the ground and joined the right one against the rock. She kept both legs straight and didn’t fall. I’m doing it! Walking her hands one over the other, she shuffled her feet up the side of the rock. Then something stopped her. She tried again to step upward, but something held her foot in place. “I’m stuck!”
“It’s all right. It’s just your skirts, don’t panic.” Pebbles cascaded over the boulder, dislodged by Daniel shifting his stance. “If you can, slide your left foot back just an inch.”
She did as he instructed.
“Good, you’re off the skirt. Now this time when you bring your foot forward, slide it a little to the outside.”
Again, she did as he said. There was no resistance. She exhaled.
“Perfect. Now, um…” He grimaced, his cheeks pinking. “Shake a little.”
Her arms were beginning to shake with the effort of climbing. “What?”
“Shake your…body. I think it will help move your skirts out of the way.”
“Oh.” She shook her hips and the fabric fell behind her. Her legs were exposed almost to the knee. Her face heated. At least she could move more freely.
Following Daniel’s advice, she resisted the urge to glance down and kept her focus on him as she continued shuffling upward. Her palms grew sweaty. She squeezed the rope. Every muscle cried for rest. Please God, give me strength! The rock seemed to grow taller beneath her feet.
She focused on Daniel’s voice.
“That’s it. Just keep looking at me. You’re almost there.”
At last, she made it to the top. Daniel grabbed her hand and drew her toward him. His arms wrapped around her as she caught her balance. Her muscles trembling, she leaned against him and peeked back. Thank you, Lord, for the strength to make it to the top.
Daniel drew her another step from the edge, continuing to support her as her legs shook.
She buried her face in his shirt and drew several deep breaths. He smelled of pine and sweat and horseflesh. Eventually, her legs quit shaking.
He lowered her to a sitting position and handed her the canteen. Ten minutes later she was rested enough to continue the trek.
A little farther along stood another boulder where Daniel had to climb up and throw a rope down to her. Instead of tying her bag to the rope, she retrieved the men’s clothes she’d purchased in town. She would not get tangled in her skirts again.
She peered up at Daniel. “Turn your back.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it and whirled away.
When she made it to the top a few minutes later, Daniel would not meet her gaze. Nor did he pull her close as he’d done before. Instead, he drew her from the edge, released her hands, and began retrieving their rope.
With a heaviness that had nothing to do with the climb, she plopped beside a nearby pine.
A mountain range surrounded them. The slopes tapered into wide valleys and narrow canyons that led to the ocean somewhere beyond the wall of clouds hovering over the distant horizon. Every shade of green, yellow, and brown painted the landscape before her. Tall pines, red-bark mesquite, and wild oak trees mixed with prickly paw cactus, speckled boulders, and tumbleweeds. It was a strange mixture of desert and mountain, dry and wet. Natural elements that shouldn’t belong together somehow lived in beautiful harmony, emanating a peace God alone could create.
A red-tailed hawk soared through the golden rays of the late afternoon sun. “Everything that has breath praise the Lord.” Still panting from her climb, she snorted. I wonder what the Good Book says about people who are out of breath? Chuckling, she glanced over and found Daniel watching her.
She raised her brows. “What?”
“You seem happy.”
“Just considering God’s creation.” She waved her hand to indicate the view.
Daniel studied the landscape. “It is impressive to consider that the God who made all of this made us, loves us, and watches over us every moment of every day.”
Had He been watching the day Mama died? How ashamed of Eliza He must have been. She bit her lip and averted her face.
“What?” Daniel dropped the coiled rope and came to kneel in front of her. “What’s wrong?” His palm cradled her cheek, urging her to face him. When she met his gaze, his eyes begged her to trust him.
Her secret filled her lungs, threatening to burst from her chest if she didn’t set it free. But she’d never told anyone. Not even Pa. She picked at a snag in her clothing. She couldn’t tell this man she’d known only weeks, even if he had captured her heart.
Could she?
“God shouldn’t love me.” She lifted her gaze to Daniel’s as the words pou
red from her mouth like the flood gushing through the gorge. “It’s my fault Mama’s dead. It’s my fault Pa is missing. I try and try to make up for my mistakes, but it seems like everything I do is wrong. Every time I try to fix things, it turns out worse somehow.”
Daniel frowned. “Bu—”
“No. He shouldn’t love me. I don’t deserve it.”
Daniel pressed his palm to her cheek. “But He does.”
She drew away from his touch. “If He loves me, then why did He take Mama away? Why did He let Pa leave? Why…” She almost asked why God allowed her to fall in love with Daniel when he could never be hers, but she caught herself and turned away. “I don’t deserve it.”
He placed a hand on her shoulder and gently rotated her to face him. “Whoa. That’s a lot of guilt you’re carrying around.”
She ducked her chin.
He placed a hand under it, urging her to look at him. “Let’s start at the beginning. Why do you think you’re responsible for your mother’s death?”
Eliza hesitated, but now that she’d begun she didn’t want to stop. “I knew the wagon was falling. Mama pulled me out of the way, but I fought her and ran back to save Cookie, my dog. Mama chased after me. She pushed me and Cookie out of the way, but she didn’t have time to get out of the way.” Warm tears streamed down her face.
The image of her mother’s crushed body flashed through her mind. Why couldn’t she erase that sight from her memory? Cookie. Think about Cookie. The beautiful golden dog had been her constant companion for the first seven years of her life.
“When I was a baby, Pa found Cookie shivering in the snow outside of town. He was just a puppy, too young to be on his own, so Pa brought him home. Pa said Ma named him Cookie because he was the color of her sugar cookies.”
She took a deep breath, but her voice still warbled as she continued. “Two days after Ma died, Cookie took off after a rabbit and never came back. God was punishing me for disobeying and getting Mama killed. I tried to be so good for Pa. I did everything Mama used to do to help him, but it wasn’t enough. Pa was never happy. Not after Mama died. And now he’s gone and I…I have to find him. I have to fix it. It’s my fault.”
Daniel pulled Eliza close as she broke into sobs. Her bonnet bumped against his cheek. His throat tight, he rubbed her back. “Shh. It’s all right.” He continued to murmur reassurances until the worst of her crying had passed. Then he pushed her back enough to see her face.
“Listen to me. Your mother’s death is not your fault. You were a child trying to save your pet. That is not a bad thing. Your mother made a choice to save you just as you made a choice to save your dog. Would it have been Cookie’s fault if you’d died that day instead of your mother?”
She shook her head.
“Of course not. He didn’t ask you to save him. You did it because you loved him just as your mother loved you, and just as God loves you. Eliza, God sent his Son to die for you before you were even born, knowing full well every sin you would ever commit. Even if your choice to save Cookie was a wrong one—and I don’t think that it was—but even if it was, God still loves you. And as far as you deserving His love? No one deserves God’s love. That’s what’s so amazing about it. God loves us unconditionally, and what’s more, He forgives you.”
She gnawed her lower lip, wide eyes shimmering.
Please, Lord, let her hear Your Truth.
“Eliza, you need to forgive yourself. You can’t keep trying to make up for past mistakes—if that’s what you think they were—by trying to control everything and everyone around you.” He tilted his head, offering a small smile. “That’s God’s job, and my guess is He’s better at it than you.”
“You may be right.” Tears still danced on her lashes, but her lips tipped up. “Thank you.” Her gaze held a depth of emotion he didn’t dare identify.
Her tongue darted out to lick a tear from her lips.
He leaned forward.
Her eyelids fluttered shut. A tiny drop traced a path down her smooth cheek to her pink mouth.
Her warm breath brushed against his lips, jarring him to his senses. What was he doing? He straightened and released her from his embrace.
Stepping back, he cleared his throat. “I, uh, think you should change. We need to get going. It shouldn’t be too much farther now.” He turned his back to her.
“I’ll only have to change again if we come to another climb like this.”
“Then you’ll just have to change again.”
Eliza struggled to catch her breath as Daniel rushed away. He had almost kissed her! He stopped because he didn’t love her. He loved Alice. It was good that he’d stopped. He would already take her heart when he left. She shouldn’t give him her first kiss, too.
Still, what might it be like to be kissed by him? Was one kiss too much to ask? She squeezed her eyes shut. I will not cry again. She’d done enough of that for today.
She straightened her shoulders. It was time to find Pa. Taking a deep breath, she opened her bag and retrieved her dress.
When she finished changing, she called out, and Daniel emerged from behind a large rock. He barely glanced at her as he snatched up the satchel and rope before continuing up the gorge. She hurried to follow.
A few minutes later, she halted, her breath catching. Could it be? Through some trees and a little up the hill to the right, she could see a small log cabin in a clearing. Smoke drifted from the chimney.
“Daniel, look.”
Ahead of her, Daniel stopped and glanced back.
She pointed to the cabin.
He closed the space between them and reached for her hand but stopped before taking it. “Come on.” He led the way up the hillside through the trees and large shrubs.
Halfway between the front door and the edge of the clearing, a large fire pit smoldered.
About ten feet from the yard, Daniel stopped. “Wait there.” He pointed to a thick bush.
She raised her brows.
“Please. Just until I’m sure it’s safe.” His pleading tone undid her resistance.
“Oh, all right.” She stepped behind the bush.
“Thank you.”
She held her breath as he stepped into the small clearing.
A shot bounced off the ground, scattering the dirt a foot to his right.
Chapter 29
February, 1854
The Pacific Ocean
Alice Stevens clutched the ship’s railing as she leaned over its smooth surface to heave the contents of her stomach into the restless waves of the Pacific Ocean. As she straightened, Richard offered his kerchief. She accepted it and wiped her mouth.
Her brother smirked, his golden blonde curls glinting in the afternoon sun. “I told you that bread wasn’t worth it.”
“I was hungry.”
“We’re all hungry. We’ve been hungry for weeks, but you don’t see me shoving moldy bread down my throat like a half-crazed mongrel.”
“Hungry for months.” She scowled at him. “And I did not shove it down. Your analogy doesn’t even make sense.”
“Look.” He placed a hand on her shoulder and pointed to the smudged line on the horizon that they had been told was the western coast of Mexico. “We’re nearly there. A few more days and we’ll be free to eat like kings”—he winked at her—“and queens again.”
She shrugged out of his grasp. “After five months aboard this rotting woodpile, I’d settle for eating like a human again. The pigs back home are eating better than we are.” Why had she ever agreed to embark on this miserable voyage?
Daniel better appreciate the sacrifice she was making. Her conscience nipped, but she ignored it. The past was the past. She’d boarded this awful ship, hadn’t she?
“Tsk-tsk. Dear sister, you are never happy. First you complain that the captain never allows us steerage folk above deck. Then we are allowed above deck, and you complain that we aren’t being properly fed.” He spread his arms wide, sucking in a deep breath. “Look around you.
Nothing but beautiful azure sky and clean, ocean air. Can’t you enjoy it for even a moment?”
She had enjoyed it. At the start of their journey, the wide expanse of sparkling cerulean had seemed like a shimmering blanket of sapphires. But after months of nothing but the endless blue, she was sick of the sight. And when they reached the Cape’s riotous waves?
Everything sickened her.
Thankfully, those monstrous swells hadn’t lasted, but each day their meager food rations grew more wretched. She could not gain shore soon enough.
Frowning, she held out Richard’s kerchief, but he waved her off. She checked that no one else was watching before holding it out again. “Take it, please. If I put it in my pocket I’ll reek for the remainder of the trip.”
“And I won’t?”
Her lips curled. “No one cares if you stink.”
He laid his hand against his chest as his eyes widened. “I care.”
She giggled and jiggled the kerchief again, but he ignored it.
He pointed at her. “And you smell already.”
She gasped and lifted her foot to stomp, but caught herself. She returned it to the deck. They may be in the middle of the Pacific with no one but strangers to see, but she was still a lady.
His nose scrunched. “We all smell. We’ve just grown so used to our own stench, we don’t notice it anymore.” He lifted a brow. “Besides, who is there on this ship for you to impress?”
She shook the slip of fabric one last time. “Will you take it back or not?”
“Not until you wash it.” He folded his arms.
“Very well.” After a quick check that no one was watching, she swung her arm over the rail and tossed the offensive fabric into the sea.
It was Richard’s turn to gasp as he watched his kerchief disappear. “Alice!” He threw his arms out, gaping at her. “I cannot believe you did that.”
She tipped her nose up and flounced away from him to the opposite end of the deck. Mirth tickled her as she peeked over her shoulder. He hadn’t followed. Instead, he’d wandered over to speak with the only other young woman aboard the ship. He’d been infatuated with the redheaded girl from the moment she’d boarded with her family in Boston.
Waltz in the Wilderness Page 19