Hannah turned to look at her. “Guitar?”
It was hard not to smile at that little girl face. “Yes. I can play part of it, but he had to play the other part for me. Should we do that again, do you think?”
“Again.” The child wiggled this time instead of bouncing.
Monti looked at Joseph and met his gaze. A bit wary, but not resistant. She raised her brows. “Again?”
His chin bobbed less than an inch, but the softening of his face was her real answer.
“All right, Miss Hannah.” She picked the child up and set her on her feet. “You go sit with your Mama while your Uncle Joey and I play a song for you.”
Monti crawled as gracefully as she could into position on Joseph’s left side and took the guitar into her arms.
He removed the glove from his right hand and tucked himself against her side so he could reach the guitar to strum. The warm security of being snuggled next to him was enough to make her wish the song would last all afternoon.
“What shall we play?” His deep vibrato rumbled in her ear, and his breath fanned her neck.
She glanced back at him, but that put their faces only inches apart. Far too intimate for an audience. So she busied herself adjusting her fingers on the frets. “We could play The Green Willow Tree again. I think I’ve forgotten the chording, though.”
He nodded and sent a glance to his sister. “You remember this one, Em.” Then he focused on the guitar, leaning over the body. “It starts with an E7 chord.” He talked her through the chord progression a couple times, then started a rhythmic strum.
The first time through the chords was a bit ungainly, but she’d fallen into the cadence by the second time. Joseph’s low tenor struck into the first verse, and she had the courage to join him on the next line. It wasn’t easy playing and singing at the same time.
Emma’s sweet soprano joined in on the second verse, and they had a lively chorus going. Hannah bounced and clapped with the music, and Simeon helped her with a little dance in his lap.
The warmth and joy cloaking the group settled over Monti, and she breathed it in as a sweet aroma.
When Joseph strummed the final chord with a prolonged flair, she leaned back into his shoulder and smiled at the group.
Emma clapped. “I love it. Just like old times.” Her gaze found Joseph’s, and a special smile crept over her face. Full of memories and thoughts that only siblings—or maybe just twins—could communicate with a look. Monti had never had anyone to share that look with. And never before had she wanted a brother or sister more than this moment.
Emma broke the eye contact and pushed up from her chair. “I need to start the meat pies for tonight.”
As much as Monti hated to, she should leave the warmth of being tucked into Joseph’s arm and go help his sister. This might be her only chance for a while to learn how to make meat pies.
She handed the guitar to Joseph. “I’ll help, then I should start for home. I promised Antoine I’d be back before dark.”
His finger stroked her arm as he helped her up. “Tell me when you’re ready, and I’ll saddle the horses.”
She turned to study him. He’d only been here a few hours. Surely he’d planned to stay longer before he’d been roped into bringing her along. “You don’t have to take me back. Stay here and visit with your family. I know my way home.”
A line formed across his forehead. “There’s too much danger in riding alone.”
She raised her brows at him. “You do it all the time.”
That line deepened as he scowled. “I have a gun, and I know how to protect myself.”
“I have a gun, too. And I know how to protect myself.” It was nice that he wanted to keep her safe, but she’d been independent long enough to be able to fend for herself.
His eyebrows shot up. “You have a gun? Where?”
She raised her chin. “In a place I’ll not be showing, but you can be certain I have one and know very well how to use it.”
He pressed his mouth together in a sure sign he was trying not to laugh. “Hmm... Well, be that as it may, I’ll still ride back with you, if you don’t mind. It’ll help me sleep a mite better, so it’s worth it to me.”
She let out a sigh but kept from rolling her eyes. A few more hours alone with Joseph Malcom wouldn’t be much of a hardship.
THE DAY HAD BEEN JUST about perfect. Maybe too close to perfect.
Joseph glanced at Monti riding beside him, surrounded by a sparkling landscape of newly-fallen snow. It still didn’t seem possible that Monti knew about his hand and wanted him anyway. She acted as though it were nothing. As though it didn’t create a gaping hole in his abilities, keeping him from so many things he used to do. Things other people took for granted.
Was she right? Overcoming his struggles didn’t seem as easy as just...moving on. A simple decision. Maybe, little by little, his mind would get on board with this new reality. Was it his mind that had trouble grasping the facts? Somehow, the problem seemed a bit deeper. But now wasn’t the time to analyze it.
Just enjoy these final two hours with Monti on their ride back to the priest’s cabin.
“Tell your aunt and uncle I’m sorry I didn’t get to come visit today.” She glanced over at him, her eyes bright in a soft smile. “I’ll look forward to seeing them next time.”
He nodded. “Aunt Mary’ll make sure you keep that promise.” His feisty aunt was always eager for a visit.
A flash of movement in the snow caught his eye. Something big. He jerked back on his reins and threw out a hand to stop Monti.
A figure on horseback separated from the trees not more than two dozen feet ahead. An Indian mounted on a brown-and-white horse. Both the Indian’s face and the horse’s were marked with paint, and the brave wore several feathers standing upright in his hair.
Joseph scanned the woods behind the man, searching for more shadows moving among the trees. It didn’t seem likely the man was alone.
No figures shifted among the barren branches, so he refocused his gaze on the brave approaching. With a jolt, recognition slapped him in the face.
Thunder Rumbles. This was the Indian who’d asked to marry Monti.
Joseph glanced sideways at her. She was staring at the man, too, eyes wide. Did she recognize him? She must, although he did look a bit different with a red circle painted around one eye and black lines under the other.
“Ride forward slowly,” he muttered, just loud enough for her to hear.
She obeyed, then responded in a whisper, “I know him. He won’t hurt us.”
Wouldn’t hurt her maybe, but the man was probably congratulating himself on this meeting. An opportunity to gain a new scalp and rid himself of the competition for Monti’s affections, both at the same time.
They met the Indian and all reined to a stop. The man spoke the Indian word for hello and signed, his gaze swinging from Joseph to Monti.
“Hello.” Joseph made the same sign of greeting, but spoke in English so Monti would understand.
Thunder Rumbles didn’t speak again, just stared at Joseph for a long moment, as though he were trying to read something in him. Deciding whether Monti was worth fighting over? No, that couldn’t be it. One look at the woman confirmed the answer. What ran through the man’s mind as those dark eyes drilled into him?
Joseph held his stare, keeping his back straight but his shoulders relaxed. He had no reason to feel inferior to this man. Well, at least no reason that Thunder Rumbles would know, not with the glove covering his crippled hand.
You only need be the man God made you to be. That’s enough for me. Why Monti’s words from the night before drifted through his mind at that precise moment, he had no idea. But they eased the twisting in his gut a little.
At last, the Indian nodded as though he’d settled something in his mind. He slid a glance to Monti again, then turned his horse and rode around them. No farewell or anything. His face as he passed didn’t seem angry. Yet, not pleased either.
Monti let ou
t a sigh after he’d ridden a short distance past them.
Joseph nudged Copper forward and motioned for her to ride on, too. They needed to get out of earshot before discussing the Indian. Many of the natives knew more English than they let on.
After a few minutes, Monti spoke in a loud whisper. “What do you think he wanted?”
Joseph glanced back, but Thunder Rumbles had disappeared from sight around a distant rock cropping. “I think he was just passing this way. I’m not sure why he was alone, though.”
“I’ve never seen him painted like that. Did it mean he was going to battle?”
“Maybe just going to steal a horse or two. I don’t think they have enemies in this area. They don’t always get along with the Bloods, but the nearest band is the one you met several mountains over.”
That seemed to give Monti enough to ponder, because she settled into silence for a while.
Their horses climbed a steep knoll, fighting through the snow so both animals breathed hard when they reached the top. Joseph reined in his gelding, and Monti did the same. “We’ll let the horses rest for a minute. It’s a pretty sight from up here.”
The ground sloped downward, interrupted by the rock faces of three cliffs that rose almost straight up. “We call those The Triplets. All three mountains are almost impossible to climb except by the wild goats. Horses certainly can’t climb them, but I think some of the Indian braves try during the rite of passage.”
She glanced at him. “Have you ever tried?”
How did she know him so well already? He could feel his ears burning, but he was careful not to look at her. “I scaled the middle one last spring.”
Her laugh tinkled out like a bell in the pure white of their snow-covered surroundings.
A movement to the side caught his eye, about halfway down the slope. Six deer wandered out from a copse of trees into the open.
He motioned toward them at the exact moment Monti gasped.
“Looks like there are two females, two babies, a young male, and a buck.” He reached for his rifle in the scabbard.
“You’re not going to kill one.” Monti held a wounded tone.
“It’ll give you and the priest fresh meat for a couple weeks.” He sighted at the male sporting the huge rack of antlers, giving himself an extra few seconds to make sure he had the gun level in his bad hand.
Then he squeezed the trigger.
The explosion ripped the air with a flash and a cloud of black powder. The deer turned and bolted back the way they’d come. The buck ran only a couple strides before he went down.
Joseph’s chest tightened, and he turned away. No matter how many times he did that, it wasn’t any easier watching a living thing die. If only they could just go outside and retrieve their food from the ground each morning, like the Israelites had with the manna in the desert.
A look at Monti showed her biting her lip, a hand pressed over her heart.
“You stay here. I’ll gather the meat and be back shortly.” The last thing she needed was to watch him bleed out the carcass and hoist it onto the horse. Maybe he still had an oilskin in his pack he could wrap the body in so she didn’t have to look at it.
She nodded. “Call me if you want me to come help.”
He nudged his horse forward. “Just stay put. Don’t move from this spot.”
Chapter Nineteen
Be Thou my Defender.
~ Monti’s Journal
MINUTES SEEMED TO DRAG like hours as Joseph worked on the deer. The animal had a number of years on him and the hide was thick, which made everything harder. At least the work didn’t require the fingers of both hands.
When he finally climbed back aboard Copper, the deer wrapped and tied on behind him, a half hour had passed. He nudged the horse into a trot, then a lope, as they ascended the slope.
The glare of the sun on the snow created a haze at the top of the knoll that looked almost like a cloud of fog. He’d seen this trick of the light before, though. He wouldn’t be able to see Monti waiting patiently for him until he came within a few strides of her.
As Copper crested the hill, the glare faded, but Monti never came into view. Where was she?
He scanned the trail in both directions. “Monti?” His voice reverberated in the snowy silence.
No answering call. Only...his gaze lowered to the snow, which was churned in a wide swath that looked like a whole herd of horses had come through.
Bile churned in his stomach. Who’d been here? And where was Monti?
He raised his voice to a yell. “Monti!” His words echoed in the open spaces, and he held himself perfectly still as he waited for a reply. The air grew quiet and as still as a tomb.
A weight pressed hard on his chest as he pushed Copper forward to examine the tracks. None of the horses had been shod. Aside from the priest and Monti, the only others he knew who kept their horses unshod were Indians.
An image of Thunder Rumbles flashed in his mind. Had the Indian gone back and gathered more men to capture Monti and take her by force? The idea of her being held against her will nearly gagged him. It was a very real possibility. Even though that tribe was mostly peaceable, an Indian brave didn’t take well to being thwarted. If he wanted Monti badly enough, Joseph had no doubt he’d take her by force.
The tracks seemed to travel back the way he and Monti had come, so he started riding that direction. It was hard to tell how many horses had been in the group. At least twenty, perhaps. Maybe more. Why so many? It would have been hard for Thunder Rumbles to gather such a large group quickly unless they’d already been assembled. Maybe he’d been riding with them but had separated for some reason when they’d seen him.
Joseph pushed his horse into a canter. It was easy enough to follow the tracks, and since Monti’s mare wasn’t shod, it would be impossible to decipher her prints from the others. He had to go on the hope and prayer that he was following the right trail.
Help me, God. If you ever choose to listen to my pitiful prayers, now is the time. Help me find Monti. He’d not prayed since the avalanche. That hour he’d been stranded with an awful weight crushing his hand, God hadn’t seemed to care. At least, not enough to keep him from losing the use of five fingers. The Almighty had kept him alive but left him crippled.
The things that happened to you don’t have the power to make you more or less than who you are. It’s up to you to decide whether you’ll live up to His plan for you. More of Monti’s words, and as his chest thundered and he pushed his horse harder, the words seemed to thrash inside him. What was God’s plan for him anyway? To lose everything that mattered in his life? First the use of his left hand, and now Monti.
He gave Copper a harder nudge, and the horse turned on a burst of speed. He had to find Monti. There was no telling what would happen to such a beautiful woman with no one to protect her. Especially with her feisty temperament thrown in the mix.
A shrill whistle pierced the air.
Joseph sat back in the saddle and searched the tree line ahead for the source as he eased Copper down to a walk. That had to have been a human sound. He’d never heard a bird make a call like that.
Then he showed himself. Thunder Rumbles rode out from the trees at a trot, straight toward him.
Joseph reached for his rifle. There was no telling what kind of trap this was, but he’d face it armed if he could. He aimed the gun at the Indian. “Where’s Monti?”
The man slowed his horse to a walk but kept coming as if Joseph didn’t have a firearm aimed at his chest. “Don’t shoot.” He made the sign for peace.
Peace, my eye. If the man hurt a hair on Monti’s head, he’d not find peace anytime soon. He sighted down the barrel of the gun. “Where’s Monti?” The man would know what he was asking by recognizing her name. There was no need to lower his gun to sign the question.
Thunder Rumbles stopped his horse with a dozen feet between them and began signing.
Joseph studied the motions. The sign language universal among most n
orthern tribes was easier to learn than any of their individual languages, but he was still slow at it.
From what he understood, it looked like the Indian signed, I know where the woman is.
“Where is she?” He adjusted the gun again. The savage was announcing that he had Monti? He must be planning to hold her for ransom. “What do you want for her? What is your price?”
A flash of confusion slipped across the Indian’s face, and Joseph scrambled in his mind to find the Indian word for price.
But Thunder Rumbles began signing again. Our enemies have taken her. I followed them a short distance, but they are many. We need more braves to fight them and take her back.
“Your enemies?” Surely he hadn’t read the gestures right. “You mean, the Bloods? The Kainai?”
The Indian nodded vigorously, then motioned Joseph forward. Come. We need help to fight the enemy. Many braves to take the woman.
Did he dare trust the man? He was pretty certain he’d read the signing correctly.
Thunder Rumbles waved him forward again, more urgent than stoic at this point. He was obviously impatient.
Do I go with him, Lord? If this were a trap, Joseph wouldn’t have much chance for survival among a band of armed Indians. But what other choice did he have? And if it wasn’t a trap, Monti could be in real danger among an enemy tribe. He could think of many reasons why they would want to capture her, and all of them made his gut churn and his heart race.
Determination sluiced through him, shoring up his uncertainty. He lowered the rifle but kept it pointed forward so he could use it with only a second’s notice.
Then he nudged Copper forward. “Let’s go.
MONTI CLUNG TO THE horn of her saddle, trying to keep some space between herself and the Indian whose arms formed a vise around her. More Indians on horseback drove their mounts like madmen, surrounding her and a handful of loose horses tucked in the middle of their circle.
It felt like they’d been riding at this speed for hours. Her insides had jolted until she jiggled like a soft pudding. Her sides ached, and so did the muscles through her arms and shoulders from hanging on.
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