Besides, she was a distraction he did not need—especially right this minute. Descending a short slope, they were entering the first section of road where almost sheer rock rose close on one side and a burbling creek edged the other. No issue for the horses and walkers, of course. He scanned the steep hillside above them, then the hillside opposite them, across the creek. Nothing to be seen. But they’d an hour or two, maybe more, of this.
God, please…mercy.
The echo of last night’s prayer flowed through him as easy and soundless as a breath. He didn’t know whether to be relieved, chagrined, or—annoyed.
The last. Definitely the last.
Didn’t help that young Hughes kept casting sharp, furtive glances his way, as if he were the threat and not whatever it was that Thomas sensed out there. He chewed back the urge to go box the boy’s ears and tell him to attend Miss Gruener, that Thomas had no intention of attempting to steal her affections away from him.
In fact, ‘twould be most amusing to see the boy’s response, despite his determination to stay alert.
His insides tightened until Thomas felt near to doubling over in the saddle.
If You’re there…I ask mercy. Not for me, but for those I’m tasked with protecting. Protect them, at least. Turn away whatever is out there.
The knot in his gut eased—just a little. He held his position and kept watch, nevertheless.
They were about halfway through the narrows when Hughes fell back. His expression held curiosity now. “Expectin’ trouble?”
At least the boy kept his voice down. Thomas gave a short nod. “Maybe. Maybe not. Can’t ever tell.”
He wouldn’t pretend the threat wasn’t real, but neither would he send everyone into a panic.
Young Hughes made his own slow survey of the hills, remaining blessedly quiet as he did so. “How would we ever know?” he said at last.
Thomas shook his head slowly. “Just—anything that doesn’t look right.” He wasn’t sure he could explain it. “Shadows that shouldn’t be there. Logs that—are not logs. And movement, of any sort.”
The boy’s gaze sharpened, trained still on the rough slopes stretching away beside them. Thomas bit back a smile. Fire the boy’s pride, and perhaps he’d learn to be useful, if he could keep his attention on scouting rather than the Gruener girl. “Tell you what,” Thomas said, pitching his voice low. “I could use the extra pair of eyes while we’re in the narrows. Mind watching with me?”
Jacob nodded slowly, then realized he was giving the wrong answer and shook his head, eyes widened and chest puffing, as Thomas expected. This time he let himself grin, then waved toward the rocky hillside again. “Look sharp then. Let me know if you see anything amiss. Anything at all.”
Another sharp nod and Jacob set to the task with right good attention.
Thomas looked up to see Miss Gruener turned in the saddle, watching both of them. Once she’d caught his eye, she gave a slight nod and smile and faced forward again.
Well. His keeping Jacob Hughes busy apparently pleased her for some reason. And he wasn’t sure what to think of that.
Whatever was behind Mr. Bledsoe giving Jacob Hughes a diversion, Kate would be glad of it. She blew out a long breath and resettled herself. This portion of the road was rough but beautiful, with the stream running alongside and the rocky hillsides rising steeply above. Wildflowers grew plentifully here, with more dogwoods and redbud scattered throughout. No one could fail to be cheered by the view.
She peered back over her shoulder at Jacob and Mr. Bledsoe. Whatever seemed to have alarmed the latter—she could describe it no other way, after observing his almost frantic intensity—seemed to have passed. At least, for the most part.
Her own unease had grown over the past hour, but she’d attributed that to Jacob Hughes deciding he needed to be her particular escort. If, as Mr. Jenkins and the others had discussed, there was yet a real threat of attack here, though the last one here was a year past—
Father, keep us safe. Give Mr. Bledsoe—and the other men too, of course—eyes for any danger, but I ask that You’d turn the peril away before he has opportunity to see it.
Over the next hour, Kate kept praying, staying watchful, and casting the occasional glance back to see that Mr. Bledsoe and Jacob remained the same. At least that terrible fear of the first day climbing Clinch Mountain in the fog never returned.
They crossed the Powell River with little incident. Mr. Bledsoe took Jacob up behind him on his horse for the actual crossing, then let him down again, and they all continued on. A cry went up from the party ahead, out of sight beyond a bend in the road. Kate’s breath caught, and her heart leaped into her throat. She pulled Clover to a stop. But then the words became clear—
“It’s the gap! We can see Cumberland Gap across the valley!”
She glanced back at Mr. Bledsoe and Jacob. Both their faces reflected her own alarm and relief. She threw them a wry smile, then hurried Clover on to catch up with the others.
Sure enough, as they emerged from the curve of the road, Powell Valley spread before them, a mile or so wide and extending as far as she could see from northeast to southwest.
Shimmering blue in the early afternoon stood the high ridge of the Cumberland.
Kate could not get enough of the sight. A tightness grew in her chest and rose in her throat, and her eyes burned.This—this was the grand gateway into the country that would be her home, perhaps for the rest of her life.
At Patterson Crossroads in a meadow adjacent to a busy ordinary, they made camp. Another traveling party was there as well, on their way down from the old part of the eastern Wilderness Road that crossed over to the upper Powell Valley from Gate City. Kate applied herself to helping Mama and Dulsey with cooking and laying out camp—still mostly seated—but kept her ears open to the snippets of talk exchanged here and there.
The other group was headed straight north to Boonesborough and beyond. They, in fact, were only resting a short while before pressing on over the gap and to an intended stop for the night at the ordinary on the other side. Before long, they moved out, and only Kate’s traveling party remained.
A festive mood permeated the camp during supper and after. Mr. Bledsoe ate with them again, while Jacob Hughes was thankfully called away by his own family. Kate waited until everyone’s initial hunger was met, then taking both her plate and cup of coffee, sidled around the circle and settled near Mr. Bledsoe. “You were sensing something amiss on the road today?” she asked, without preamble.
He favored her with a silent look—which she ought by now to be used to, but she looked away and gave attention to her plate so she didn’t appear overeager for him to reply.
“Aye,” he said at last.
She waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. “Did you see anything?”
He hesitated before shaking his head.
“You did see something.”
His eyes widened, just a bit, as he flashed her a quick look, but he took another bite and chewed it. “Naught I could speak of with any certainty,” he said, so softly she almost did not hear. “And I’d thank you to hold your tongue about it as well.”
“I can be quiet when need be,” she murmured. She thought she heard him snort quietly, but decided not to let him bait her into a protest. “It was…clever of you, to have Jacob Hughes help you keep watch.”
Another bite, and his head bobbed. He seemed to relax slightly. “The boy needs to learn to look sharp if he’s to survive the wilderness, of a certain.”
“That he does,” Kate said, scraping the last of her food together in a mound near the side of her plate. “I was praying.”
Mr. Bledsoe’s eyes were upon her again, sharply. “I thank you for that as well.”
His tone told her those thanks were reluctant at best. “You don’t believe God hears our prayers?”
One shoulder lifted. “It’s impossible to say either way.”
Intriguing response. And not entirely honest. “I as
ked whether you believe, Mr. Bledsoe. Not whether we can prove His hearing—or responding.”
Another look—this one longer. A band of sky-blue rimmed the paler shade of his eyes, which was made so by flecks of almost white. The entire effect was of a sunny winter sky.
An intriguing combination as well.
Then he blinked and broke the spell. “It makes no matter what I believe. God will do whatever He wills, regardless.”
Her heart beat with sudden painfulness at his words. What had he suffered, to speak thus?
He set his plate and spoon aside with a firmness that made her flinch. Tossing back the rest of his coffee, he put that in the middle of the plate and rose. “My thanks for the fine supper, Mrs. Gruener. Again.”
He strode away without so much as another look in Kate’s direction.
Jacob Hughes made good on his word and brought Kate a pair of worn but serviceable moccasins. The next morning, she donned them over fresh bandages and walked across camp to test them. “Very fine,” she said.
Jacob’s grin would be heartwarming if—if she were not still troubled over other things this morning. But she forced a smile in return. Time to put aside thoughts of Mr. Bledsoe and their conversation from the night before. Today they’d be crossing Cumberland Gap, and she would see Kentucky for the first time.
Mama sniffed. “Proper shoes would be better for walking, but I suppose this is better than nothing for now.”
“You also might find yourself wearing moccasins before this journey is done,” Papa remarked as he walked past, carrying a bundle of bedding to be packed aboard the horses.
Jacob Hughes continued to hover as if she were infirm, and Kate could feel her smile thinning. “Really, Mr. Hughes, you need not escort me today.”
He stammered for a moment, his cheeks coloring. “I—but it would be my honor, Miss Gruener.”
She vented a tiny sigh. This one was bound to find himself sorely disappointed if he insisted on presuming upon her good graces. “Do your sisters not need your help? Truly my feet are just fine in these—and ’twas very kind of you to loan them to me.”
He gulped. Obviously he was determined to outlast her attempts to courteously fend him off.
Behind him, Mama glanced up with a knowing smile as she packed her cooking utensils. “Perhaps he could walk with you as far as the top of the gap, unless his family calls for him.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Gruener,” Jacob said too quickly. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”
Kate suppressed the rolling of her eyes and, after slinging her haversack across her body, went to help Dulsey with the last of the bedding.
Jemmy and Stefan were settled back onto Clover, and this time Johann was tasked with leading the horse. Papa silenced his protest with a quiet word.
“Nursemaid to all of you,” Johann grumbled, waving Kate ahead of him in the procession.
“Doesn’t hurt you to take a turn,” she shot back.
“’Tisn’t like you don’t have Jacob there either,” he hissed.
She swallowed back a snarl and looked askance to see that one biting his lip, trying unsuccessfully to hide a smirk. “Trade ya,” Jacob tossed back to Johann. “You can walk with my sister, and I’ll walk with yours.”
Johann gave him a withering look, earning a laugh from Jacob. Kate wasn’t sure who most annoyed her at the moment.
She adjusted the haversack and settled herself to walk. Her feet were tender, but not nearly as sore as they’d have been with her shoes. And it felt good to walk after two days on horseback. Riding was enjoyable as well, but was a luxury reserved for those less able to make the journey on their own.
And she was nothing if not able.
For the first half mile or so, the road was easy. Papa had said it would remain mostly so up over the gap itself. Kate watched the ridge grow closer, the rippled mountainside becoming more distinct. And beyond, along the far stretch of ridge, lay an expanse of rock, almost blinding white in its starkness. Higher than the near ridge. Breathtaking in its majesty.
And between the two, an opening in the ridge as if some giant had scooped it out.
“Cumberland Gap,” Jacob breathed.
Kate nodded. The only opening through the mountains into Kentucky. The only other route west, besides down and across Tennessee, was down the Ohio River, still far too dangerous because of the Indians.
The road grew gradually rougher, and higher, the closer they came to the first ridge. About halfway up, Kate turned and looked back. Already she could survey the valley for several miles in each direction, its ends swallowed in sunlight and haze.
Making his way up the road behind them, steadfastly scouting as always, was Mr. Bledsoe. But he caught her eye, and as he approached, asked, “How fare your feet so far?”
“Much mended, thank you.”
He gave the barest nod to her smile. Kate sighed again and applied herself to climbing the hill.
It was true, the bandages inside soft leather made for some of the pleasantest walking she’d ever experienced.
“The moccasins are sensible. Good choice.”
She startled at the nearness of his voice, but tilted her head to give him a smile. “They’re on loan from Mr. Hughes here. Very comfortable.”
Mr. Bledsoe shot a glance at Jacob.
“What’s this ridge called again?” Jacob asked.
“Poor Valley Ridge,” both Kate and Mr. Bledsoe answered together. They glanced at each other, and Kate ducked her head with a chuckle, letting Mr. Bledsoe continue. “That’s Gap Creek beyond. We’ll cross the two forks, before heading up the gap itself.” He took a breath, then added, “Just yonder, past the saddle of the gap, is a trail leading along the upper ridge to a spot called the overlook. And just below that—can you see it? The cave that the gap was first named for. If we’d time…” Mr. Bledsoe cleared his throat and went on. “Anyway, the north fork of Gap Creek is fed by a spring from that cave. Sometimes it’s nearly a waterfall, running down into the gorge.”
She and Jacob both craned their necks to find the features he’d pointed out, and Kate saw Johann doing the same.
“How far is the overlook from the saddle of the gap?” Jacob asked.
“Oh, half a mile, I’d guess. Rough trail though. Horse could make it, if it’s surefooted.”
He patted the shoulder of his mare.
“Is yours?” Jacob asked.
Mr. Bledsoe laughed outright, firing surprise through Kate. “Aye, that she is.”
He had a warm laugh, deep and rich like his voice. Kate turned her head, pretending to study the high rocky ridge so he wouldn’t see the flush on her cheeks.
They all fell silent as they ascended the last bit before the top of the small gap in Poor Valley Ridge. Kate stopped again to look all around.
“There’s a better view from farther on,” Mr. Bledsoe said.
She nodded and kept going.
The road—or a path wide enough to be one, at this point—wound its way down to one of the forks of the creek, where Kate was able to cross by hopping from rock to rock, and that without the steadying hand Jacob so obviously wished to offer.
At the northern fork, she lingered to peer upstream at the cave entrance just visible through the trees and then at the ridge towering above. The sight wrested a grin from her as she applied herself to crossing once again.
And then it was straight up into the gap itself. Kate made herself go slowly and steadily to avoid becoming breathless. A short distance ahead, Papa walked beside Mama, arm outstretched for her to lean on. Kate could tell she was struggling with the ascent.
For that matter, so was anyone else not on horseback. Even Jacob was puffing a little at her side.
And she’d wager that Mr. Bledsoe wouldn’t be, if he weren’t riding. He caught her glance and gave her a wry smile. “Everyone has difficulty with the climb,” he said. “It’s steeper than it looks.”
She could only manage a nod in return. Then—abruptly the ground
began to level.
“Now,” Mr. Bledsoe said, “turn around.”
The spring landscape fading miles away into mist took her breath away. The dogwood and redbud, the laurel and tiny dots of wildflowers… the muted burble of Gap Creek flowing from the cave, off to the left, and the wind tugging at her hat and clothing, cooling her face. The intoxicating sweetness that swept up to her from the valley floor.
Ah Lord God! The world You made is very fair indeed. Especially from the height!
A laugh gurgled from her chest. Was this how God viewed His creation?
A deep chuckle echoed her own. “Told you.”
Both waited, Mr. Bledsoe’s horse turned sideways on the road, Jacob at the mare’s shoulder. But it was the crooked grin of Thomas Bledsoe that caught her heart in a strange tightness.
She swung away, but she was no longer really seeing the lovely vista before her. “Yes, you did.”
What ailed her? Was she truly so foolish?
’Twas only because of Jacob and his blasted questions about the possible affection between her and Mr. Bledsoe. That was the reasonable explanation. All would settle in a day or two. She’d had her heart beat a little faster a time or two before, by others, and knew how quickly one’s attention could change.
But Thomas Bledsoe had been a distraction since the first day she’d met him.
Mr. Bledsoe, she reminded herself firmly. There would be—could be—no familiarity between them.
Not that she’d want there to be. He’d not allow it, for one.
Would he?
She wanted to glance at him again, but forced herself to turn, as cool as she could, and keep walking.
He was pointing out features of the landscape to Jacob, the two chatting as amiably as if they’d been companions for far longer than a few days. Kate let herself smile a little. ’Twas very good of Mr. Bledsoe, really. Which made him all kindness as well as everything sensible.
Johann had stopped on the downhill side of the trail and frowned at her from under his hat. Clover lipped the lead rope and tossed his head, and Johann continued on, leading the packhorse.
The Cumberland Bride Page 8