He weighed his words. “No news. Looks like our worries were for nothing.” He sniffed the air and gave Gracie a rueful smile. “You’ll have to excuse me, but fine company is waiting for me in the sitting room.” He rose from his chair and took Gracie’s hand to guide her to the office door.
A strange expression crossed her face, one he couldn’t interpret. Then again, he’d never been good at reading women. Just rescuing them. Not this one, though. She insisted on independence, on living her own life and taking care of herself. With the help of God, that is. Such a big part of Gracelyn. He couldn’t look at her without thinking of the One she worshipped.
He hoped she stayed that way forever. His thumb lightly caressed the top of her hand as he said softly, “Don’t ever let anyone tell you who or how to be, except your God.”
* * *
Hours after she should’ve been asleep, Gracie put her book down and yawned. Starlight spilled through her window and painted the floor blue. Looking out into the night, she felt a tug within to pray.
She grabbed her wool robe and slid into slippers before hurrying downstairs. All was quiet. It must be midnight at least, she thought, as she opened the front door and stepped onto the porch. The chilly breeze threatened to whip the breath from her throat. She closed the door gently behind her.
For miles there was nothing but monochromatic landscape, broken by small shadows of scrubs glowing beneath the stars.
Thank You, Jesus, she prayed. Thank You, thank You. And that was all she could say for several moments.
Eventually goose bumps began prickling her skin and she knew she’d have to go back inside. Even though Trevor had said they’d been worried for nothing, that Mendez wasn’t around, she shouldn’t take any chances.
She’d been foolish to come out, lured by the beauty of the land.
It was as she was turning to the door that the shadow in the window caught her attention. A rabbit?
Rabbits didn’t smile.
Too late. Foolish, foolish girl. She whipped around and raced for the door but the man hiding by the stairs grabbed the hem of her robe. She tried to yank away but he was faster than Trevor pulling a gun, and he grabbed her around the waist.
“Mendez is gonna be real happy tonight.” Flashing her a toothless grin, he brought his hand to her face, and as much as she fought the wiry stranger, she was no match for the strong smelling cloth he pressed over her nose.
Sometime later cold nudged Gracie awake. She became aware of the thick scent of horse beneath her face. A shiver rolled through her.
“Hold still, we’re almost there.” A man’s gravelly voice came from above, and Gracie realized she’d been slumped over the horn of the saddle. Her ribs ached where it dug into them. Dizzy and jostled by the horse’s walk, she tried to straighten. Her back protested and burning around her wrists brought her to the realization she’d been tied to this horse. Kidnapped.
She forced her body to relax against the saddle, pressing her cheek against the horse’s mane and allowing her body to move with the rhythm of its walk.
“Are you Mendez?” Her voice came out a croak.
“Nah. The big man ran to town but he’ll be happy when he sees what I snatched.” The kidnapper coughed then, and the horse stumbled. Gracie’s body jerked forward and the horn bit into her stomach.
Groaning, she eased to her side. A shiver racked her. She cracked open her eyes. The moon cast an eerie glow over the land, easing shadows across the mountains and deepening crevices. She turned her head, searching for Uncle Lou’s house, but she found nothing except mountains and hills around her.
The kidnapper coughed again. He tripped forward and the horse whinnied as the reins went slack. Gracie tried to breathe deeply, tried to still the violent hammering of her pulse in her ears. Carefully she turned her head to find the kidnapper.
There, to the right. He’d fallen to the ground, bent over, retching. Ever so quietly, she rocked her bound wrists back and forth, testing the strength of the rope. To her surprise, her wrists slipped easily off the saddle horn, still bound but not tied to the horse like she’d thought.
She glanced at her captor. He lay on the ground, completely still. The horse sidestepped, perhaps feeling the change in circumstance.
“Shh,” Gracie soothed, using her fingers to comb through the horse’s mane. She sat upright and clutched the saddle as a wave of dizziness crashed over her and faded her sight. When the dizziness passed, she pulled her leg over the saddle. Her skin stuck to the icy leather. Wincing, she pulled free but miscalculated and fell to the ground. She hit hard, the breath slamming out of her.
After a moment, she could breathe again. A rock ground into her thigh but she ignored the pain and scrambled to her feet, praying her shaky legs would uphold her.
The kidnapper moaned but didn’t move.
Blinking quickly, Gracie stood still as frigid night air stung her cheeks and cut through her night robe. Snow packed against her slippers but her toes remained warm. For now.
She took in her surroundings. First things first. A weapon. She crossed to where the man lay with his head in the snow. He’d fallen into a faint of some sort. His breath sounded uneven and unnatural in the stillness of night. She looked around. He’d stopped them at the mouth of a cave.
A brisk wind blew against her again. With it came the scent of fire. The horse whinnied and spinning around, dashed away. Drat. She should’ve secured the horse to something.
There was nothing around them, though. Nothing but rocks and that odor of fire. It seemed to be coming from the cave. She sniffed the air. She needed a knife to cut the rope around her wrists. Maybe a sharp rock. Moving gingerly, she stepped up toward the mouth of the cave and hoped her slippers didn’t rip.
The odor grew stronger, and so did the warmth. Shivers rippled through her. Was it worth the risk of exposure to get warm? She listened and heard nothing stir in the cave. Perhaps there’d only been Mendez and her kidnapper. In that case, Mendez could return at any point.
She slipped up to the cave and poked her head in.
And recoiled.
Bodies stretched across the dusty floor, unmoving and at odd angles. As she moved farther in, the bitter fumes of vomit assaulted her. Whirling, she ducked back out into the cold air.
Dead.
There could be no doubt. The stench proclaimed more than sickness. There was a stillness to that cave, a lack of snoring and rustles, that caused pinpricks to scuttle across Gracie’s body.
Flipping a glance toward her kidnapper who lay unmoving in the snow, she made a quick decision. Who knew when Mendez might return? Better to be freezing and free than warm and a prisoner. Frigid air stiffened her fingers but somehow she managed to rip a swath of cloth from her nightie beneath the robe. She held it over her face and dodged into the cavern.
Warmth surrounded her immediately, mingling with the odor of death and vomit. Holding back a gag, she picked her way across the floor, using the flickering firelight to look for coats or blankets.
Death from cold was more certain than death from influenza at this point. She spotted a dark shadow against the wall and moved toward it. A body sprawled in front of her, some black, unidentifiable liquid snaking across his face. Darkness edged her vision.
She pressed the rag of cloth firmer against her mouth and took a deep breath. No fainting. She wouldn’t be so weak. It took several seconds of leaning against the rock wall before strength returned in her limbs. Once she felt capable of moving, she avoided looking at the body and advanced quickly to the mound against the wall.
Coats or blankets, she couldn’t tell, but she scooped up an armful and left the cavern.
Chapter Twenty-Four
A deep pounding roused Trevor from his dreams.
“Trevor, answer your
door.” Lou’s muffled tones registered. The pounding continued as Trevor stumbled to the front door, rubbing his eyes and muttering under his breath. It better be important. He had just fallen into a troubled sleep after struggling all night with thoughts of one pesky female and what life would be like when she returned to Boston.
“What!” He swung the door open and had to squint when Lou held up a lantern.
“Gracie’s gone,” Lou said shortly.
Adrenaline jolted Trevor awake and he stepped back to let Lou in. Slamming the door, he stalked to the living room and sat on the very couch that only weeks ago Gracie had wept on. He’d never forget that day, nor the kiss that had preceded her tears.
“What do you mean, she’s gone?” Nerves twitching, he eyed Lou.
“I’d bet Mendez has her. Mary heard a sound, looked out her window and saw a horse carrying two riders heading southwest. She said Gracie has a habit of wandering out at night. That true?”
“Yeah, told her not to. I saw her once while doing the security check.” He rubbed his hands over his eyes and then took the mug of coffee Lou handed him.
“I don’t know why I wasn’t told about this,” Lou said sternly, “but now we have a problem on our hands. We’ve got to find Gracie before Mendez hurts her, or worse, sells her. On top of that, I now have to deal with my brother who’s never approved of my career in the first place and will never forgive me if that career gets his only daughter killed.”
His jaw tightened. He wouldn’t let that happen. “We need to track them before new snow falls. They won’t expect us so close behind them. Did you wake James?”
“No, you’ll do it while I get William and explain things to him.”
“Fine, let’s go.” Trevor changed quickly and then, like phantoms, the two men moved into the night.
Less than an hour later, they assembled into the kitchen, everyone but Edith, who had not been woken due to her propensity for hysterics.
Lines gouged William’s face and his hands trembled on the armrests of his wheelchair. Mary bustled around the kitchen with cups of coffee and leftover cake.
“I knew that girl would get into trouble sooner or later. Knew it.” James frowned, his tone sad rather than proud.
Hugh sat at the table near William with a troubled expression on his face. “If you leave me a gun, I’ll stay here and guard the house,” he said. “I have no experience tracking and I don’t know these mountains, but I can point a gun and pull the trigger if need be.”
Trevor nodded his assent and felt a grudging respect for Hugh. Up till now he’d considered the man little more than a spoiled kid. He’d done nothing but complain and compare Oregon to Massachusetts the few times they’d ridden together. And there was something shifty about his blue eyes. But at least he could stay here and do his part.
“Mary, I want you to go to my room and lock the door,” Lou said quietly. She nodded and left the kitchen. “Here’s a rifle for you, William. One for you, Hugh. You two can take whatever positions you think best. We’re ready to track.”
“We’ll send someone back by dawn if we haven’t found her yet.” Trevor pivoted and went outside. Lou and James followed, leaving the others to blow out the candles.
“Got a track here. Unfamiliar shoe,” James said after several cold minutes. Lou shod all his horses with unmarked shoes, but this track held an imprint that was suspiciously unique. As if the owner wanted others to know he’d been there. They followed the track, breath blowing in front of them like clouds of smoke. Lou led James’s pinto while the older man looked for tracks by foot.
Trevor tried to contain the fear that made his chest ache as they got farther from the house. What had Gracie been thinking? He told her not to venture outside at night but apparently she didn’t take him seriously. If she would’ve listened then none of this would be happening. He wouldn’t be shivering in the saddle, following a bent old man and listening to his stomach rumble. He’d be warm in bed, his biggest concern discovering who had stolen the jewels rather than hunched over a saddle, a sick worry gnawing at his innards.
They followed tracks for hours and as each minute passed Trevor could feel his jaw locking up with suppressed anger. Infernal woman. It was so cold out she could easily catch hypothermia if not sheltered soon. Thing was, they should’ve been close to her and her abductor by now. But the tracks showed no sign of ending.
When the sky began to lighten Lou finally broke the tense silence.
“Looks like we’ll have to head back soon. These tracks are going in circles.” He rubbed the back of his neck then let his hand drop to his side in a gesture of defeat.
“Someone made them on purpose,” James put in. He spit a chunk of tobacco juice out of the side of his mouth before speaking again. “I’d say our best bet is to get back to the house and wait for them to contact us. Maybe I’ll hide in the hills and keep watch. Could be we’ll capture one of them.”
Trevor scanned the horizon. “I’m not heading back. You two go without me.”
“You ain’t gonna find her.” Lou slanted him a curious look. “It makes better sense to go back to the house, but I guess logic isn’t ruling you right now.”
“It doesn’t make sense for all of us to return.”
James pulled himself onto his horse and squinted at them. “I’m heading back now. You two work it out.” He turned his mount around and galloped off, leaving Trevor and Lou to face each other in the budding light.
“I’m staying, Lou. I’ve got a hunch.”
“Do what you have to. I need to be at the house, though.”
“I know.” The two friends nodded at each other and Lou left.
Trevor let his gaze drift over the rugged, deadly landscape. Fear grew in his heart again. Gracie could be already dead, but instinct told him she lived still. He wanted to let cold reason guide him but the loud thumping of his heart overruled any logical thought processes.
He grunted and pressed Butch toward the hills on the left. Where was her God now? It would be easy to blame God for another’s actions, or for even creating that person. But blaming Him had been a part of Trevor’s life for too long and, as far as he could tell, it had never done him much good.
As frosty air rushed past his face he found himself praying to Gracie’s unseen God, begging him to spare her, pleading with him for guidance. Butch’s ears turned back when Trevor started talking into thin air but then he continued on his way as if his master speaking aloud to an unseen entity was nothing new.
“Lord, I know we haven’t had too much to do with each other and that’s my fault, but I’m asking that if You hear me, You’d answer. I can’t see You—don’t feel You, either. But Gracie says You’re there and that You care and right now I want her to be right. Please help her, God. I want to trust You but I need something solid to hang my faith on besides the words of another. I guess I’m asking You to keep her safe and help me find her. Thanks.” The tips of his ears burned during his spoken prayer but the pressure in his chest eased and he could breathe easier. No wonder Gracie prayed so much. It really did soothe the soul.
Butch nickered and Trevor stroked his mane, then leaned down and whispered, “Okay, I asked for some divine help. Listen up and lead the way.” He straightened and for the next hour they checked out every cave he knew of in the southwest section of Lou’s property.
Soon the freshly wakened sun spread a glow over the land and Trevor paused in his search to take in the sight. A thin layer of snow covered the acreage and the sun’s reflection made the frozen land shine as if fire burned beneath it. A few animals ventured out looking for food.
And then he saw her.
She limped in the direction of the ranch, dragging a body behind her. He dug his heels into Butch’s side and tried to control the giddy relief surging through his veins. As he dr
ew closer he could see she wore an oversize coat over her night robe and her hair was a matted mess. A definite limp slowed her gait.
She must have heard the horse because she stopped as he drew near and her gaze centered on him. He resisted the urge to jump off Butch and instead dismounted slowly.
“Are you okay?” His voice was colder than he’d meant it to be.
“Don’t come near me, Trevor.” She backed up a step. “Just lead me home, please.”
“Who are you pulling along?”
“My kidnapper.” Her teeth chattered. “We need to get warm soon or I don’t think he’ll make it.”
Trevor moved forward to get a closer look at the man, who appeared shorter than Gracie with greasy brown hair. The man’s face was turned away and he couldn’t get a glimpse of the face but he did see the empty holster at the prone man’s hip.
“They’re all dead. Every single one. We need to get home, and keep the others away when we do.” Exhaustion lined her face, sadness drew her full lips down.
Trevor pushed the anger and fear deep within and strode forward. He pulled Gracie into his arms, letting the unconscious figure lie on the ground while he pressed her shivering body close to his warmth.
“I don’t care who’s dead,” he mumbled into her hair. “Only that you’re alive.” Her arms tightened around him. He snapped his fingers and Butch pranced over.
In a swift move Trevor lifted Gracie’s trembling form up onto the saddle, and then he reached for the man and hauled him over Butch. Gracie pulled the stranger closer to her in a protective gesture.
“We’re two miles from Lou’s. Hold tight and we’ll go as fast as we can.” The tip of Trevor’s nose felt numb as they made their way across the land. Inside, he prayed for help. Gracie swayed unsteadily and he wondered if the man she held against her still had a pulse. They needed to get home, bad, but Butch was tired and the added weight burdened the stallion’s steps.
Trevor fought the urge to interrogate Gracie. He wasn’t sure who was dead or why but she looked far from able to answer his questions.
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