by Lily Graison
A long sleeve shirt lay near her feet and she snatched it up before slipping it on over her ripped dress. The material still held Thomas’s scent. She closed her eyes and sighed. They’d made so many plans for the future. She realized now how foolish she was to have believed them possible.
Movement outside the wagon drew her attention. The man was walking around again. She held the blanket to her chest and squeezed back against the wagon seat and the sideboard. The canvas covering the wagon gave slightly as she leaned against it. The material was cold and frozen, the snow falling heavy enough now to soak through, the wind strong enough to freeze the moisture in place.
The sun sank so low over the mountain that shadows crept along the trail, the trees blocking off most of the light now. It would be full dark soon. Would the man stay? Fear he would caused a knot to form in her throat. Surely he wouldn’t save her only to rape her himself. Would he? He hadn’t so far. He said he meant her no harm so—why was he still here? As he moved out of her line of sight, a new fear formed. Was he going to leave her out here alone? And if he did, how would she ever survive?
She wasn’t coming out. Not that it mattered. He wasn’t sure what to do with her if and when she did.
Gideon glanced at the wagon again, seeing her dark shape pressed against the canvas side. The small glimpse he’d seen of her when he set the plate of food in the wagon showed her face beat all to hell. It was swelling in places, dark bruises forming over one whole side and he wished he wouldn’t have killed that sorry bastard who’d attacked her so quickly. He should have suffered, long and painfully for daring to lay a finger on a woman in violence. So did the two who ran off.
Dark thoughts filled his head and he pushed to his feet, dispelling old memories he liked to keep buried. He plated up the rest of the rabbit and placed it on the back of the wagon for the woman still cowering inside and cleared out a spot near the fire to lay his bedroll. He built the fire higher, stowed his gear close at hand, along with his rifle, and laid down, releasing a weary sigh. This day had gone from bad to a miserable failure. His traps were all empty and he’d killed a man and probably doomed two more to death by them running off in nothing but threadbare coats on. Not that he wouldn’t do it again. Those worthless bastards deserved everything they got. Any man who laid a hand on a woman like they’d done to the one in that back of that wagon deserved nothing less. He only wished he’d come upon them before either had a chance to cause her a moment of fear. He’d seen that look in her eyes before and it scraped his heart raw to see it again.
The sound of movement from the wagon drew his attention. She was moving about. He hoped it was to eat the rest of the rabbit. He hated wasting good meat. Thoughts of what to do with her filled his head. They’d leave at first light. If they trekked hard, they would make it to shelter before nightfall. A glance up at the night sky showed nothing but darkness. Not a single star shinned down at him. Clouds were moving in, the light snow flurries falling now enough to make him worry about the fire going out. Freezing to death wasn’t the way he wanted to go.
A screech from an animal echoed through the trees. Eaten by wild animals wasn’t a good death either. If he was lucky, nothing would smell the small stash of fresh hides and meat he’d hunted for over the last several days. He pulled his rifle closer. If something came down that hill, he hoped he saw it before he became the hunted.
Maybe he should have crawled inside the wagon. He raised his head and looked at it, then dismissed the thought. The woman was frightened enough as it was. If he joined her inside, it was hard to tell what she may do.
Turning to his side, he faced the fire and stared at the flames, shutting out the memories still trying to take hold. Finding this woman would play havoc with his orderly world but damn it all, he couldn’t leave her. His conscience wouldn’t let him. He just had to get her back to Silver Falls and as far away from him as he could get.
Chapter 2
He was leaving. Victoria watched him pack his gear, some of which were her own things. A few of her plates and mugs, the silverware and cooking pots. He was taking everything he could fit inside his pack.
The snow was falling harder than it had been the day before. The air was bitterly cold and she’d pulled on every one of Thomas’s shirts, and even slipped on a pair of his trousers and hidden the fact underneath her skirts. Her cloak was thin but it helped hold in her body heat. It was enough. For now.
The man moved out of her range of sight and her heart thumped. Was he leaving? She leaned over to try and see out the back of the wagon.
“Storms coming in,” he said. “If you’re coming with me then get a move on. I’m not waiting for you.” He peeked around the corner of the canvas and she shrank back against the side. His gaze met her own and held for long moments. “Did you hear me?”
Her tongue felt glued to the roof of her mouth. That coat he was wearing made him appear huge and the sight of him caused her stomach to twist into knots.
He blew out a breath and raised a hand, scratching at his jaw. “Suit yourself. If the storm doesn’t kill you, something bigger than you lurking out here in the woods will. The choice is yours. Either way, I’m leaving.”
As quickly as he came, he stepped away from the wagon and she could hear his footsteps crunch in the snow as he walked away. The sound grew distant before she slid to the open end of the wagon. She peeked around the corner, searching for him in the falling snow. It took her a few minutes to spot him and her eyes widened. He really was leaving her! He was halfway up the embankment to her left.
She looked at the fire pit he’d dug. The embers were cold now, the juicy rabbit he’d fed her gone. What would she do now? The wagon wheel was broken and she’d never be able to fix it. She had no weapon to hunt with and the dried meats they’d brought with them had been eaten by those horrible men or tossed onto the ground. She was stuck here. If the cold didn’t kill her, starvation would.
Victoria looked back up the hill. He was still visible but the falling snow made it look as if a huge brown animal moved instead of a man. She bit her lip, fear twisting her gut until tears burned her eyes.
What if she followed him and he hurt her, or worse?
What if she didn’t and she died because she was too afraid to accept the help he seemed to be offering?
Neither was an option she liked but she was out of choices. If she had any chance of surviving now, she’d have to follow this stranger and pray she wasn’t making the biggest mistake of her life.
Gideon slowed his steps, the trail he’d followed countless times still visible in the falling snow. The girl was reaching the top of the hill and she was too far back for his liking. He didn’t have time to coddle a woman but found himself stopping all the same and turning to look at her. She paused and met his gaze. She was a big girl—or so he thought. When she adjusted her cloak he saw the added bulk was layers of clothing and some sort of satchel bag draped across her chest. Smart thinking. Maybe she knew what was in store for her out here after all.
They climbed the hill for most of the morning. His legs burned, the muscles aching from the steady ascent. He kept glancing back at the girl every so often, surprised to see her still back there but she was slow. He could tell by the way she panted for breath that climbing a mountain wasn’t something she’d ever done. Most hadn’t, but if she was on the mountain, he assumed she knew the terrain and would be able to handle it.
He stopped to let her catch up, lowering himself to the ground and sighing as his aching muscles relaxed. Digging through his pack for the dried meat, he leaned back against a tree and waited for her. He ate in silence, staring into the trees until she was close enough to see clearly. She stopped a few feet away. Her face was flushed and a few strands of her hair dangled against her cheek. She was panting for breath and collapsed not far from where he sat. He let her catch her breath before standing and walking her way.
Her eyes widened as he reached her and she shrank back. “I’m not going to hurt you so
you can stop being afraid of me.” He held out the water canteen and dried meat and stared at her until she took them, then he walked away, searching the ground for falling limbs large enough to use for a walking stick. It took nearly ten minutes to find something suitable. When he turned back to face her, she was breathing normally, her skin once again a creamy pale porcelain. Well, except for where her face was bruising. What had been a slight discoloration last night was now a muted bluish purple. It would be near black by nightfall.
He walked back toward her and held the stick out. “This will make the climb a bit easier.” He turned and looked up the hill. “We have to make it to the top of that ridge and halfway back down the other side before we can stop. There’s a small hunting cabin near a stream where we can rest. We’ll have to hold up there until the storm passes.”
Her eyes widened with every word he spoke. He could only imagine how scared she was. She’d yet to speak a word to him and he was beginning to wonder if she even could. He’d met a man in town when he was younger that couldn’t talk. He’d found himself on the wrong side of an Indian raid and lost his tongue in the process. He doubted this girl was missing a tongue but one never knew.
She never reached for the stick so he laid it by her feet and straightened, walked back to his pack and shouldered it again. Glancing back at her he said, “Let’s get going,” and started the trek back up the mountain.
As he’d figured she’d do, she picked up the walking stick and followed. He just hoped she could keep up.
This is a mistake. The words whispered through her head on repeat as she followed the man up the side of the mountain. The snow was falling harder now and her thin boots weren’t made for snow. Her feet were near frozen, each step more painful than the last. She was ready to give up when she saw him stop. He turned and motioned her forward and she climbed the last few feet that separated them and stopped. Then gasped.
They’d reached the top of the hill. She took in the small valley below. A small stream or river snaked its way through the trees. Another rise, taller than the one they were on now, loomed in the distance and snow covered everything she could see. The trees were naked of leaves, low-lying clouds skirted the top of the mountains, and the wintery landscape was the most magnificent thing she’d ever seen.
“The cabin is there,” he said, pointing down the slope. “It’s by the stream. If we don’t make it there before nightfall, we’ll break our necks trying to get there in the dark.” He looked up and studied the sky. “Hopefully the storm holds off a bit longer.” He nodded down the hill with his head and said, “let’s go.”
She waited a few moments more, looking out at the sea of snow covered mountains and wondered again how she’d ended up here. Nothing was as it was supposed to be. Lifting her walking stick, she planted it back on the ground followed him. The mountain was steep on this side. Going up had been hard but going down was taking every ounce of strength she possessed. She panted, stopped to catch her breath, and watched the burly shape of the man as he climbed down the hill with ease. Planting her stick again, she trudged on and tried to remain upright and not topple down the embankment head first.
This side of the mountain was easy to descend but as the day wore on, the sky darkened with clouds and the snow fell heavier. When the sun started to set, fatigue caused her steps to slow. The man looked back at her every so often but didn’t appear to be worried about her. If he only knew this was the first trek through nature she’d ever been on, he’d be praising her efforts.
The light grew faint and dark shadows crept into the valley as they finally made it to level ground again. The stream wound through the trees like a serpent, the sound of trickling water over rocks oddly comforting.
“It’s not much further now.” He pointed to the right. “The cabin is up there a ways. We’ll cross over the stream here and follow it through that thicket of trees.” He refilled the water canteen and handed it to her. She drank her fill and handed it back, watching him drink, his throat moving as he swallowed.
The heavy fur hood still covered his head and hid most of his face. She couldn’t tell his age but she didn’t think he was overly old. Not much older than Thomas had been. Her heart gave a tight pinch at the thought of him. She wanted to blame this whole ordeal on him but she never once discouraged him when he said they were heading west. She’d been so caught up in the thoughts of finally having an adventure she’d not said a word in protest. Her current situation was as much her fault as his.
The man caught her looking at him and she turned her head. Where was he leading her? she wondered. She wanted to ask but fear kept her quiet. She wasn’t even sure if she was still in Montana. She’d been lost for weeks. It was hard telling where she’d ended up. Was there a town nearby? Was that where he was taking her?
“Let’s go.”
She followed him along the stream and hesitated when he crossed it. There wasn’t a bridge and her feet were near frozen now. Stepping into the water would be like knives against her flesh.
“There’s no other way across it.”
She looked up. He was on the opposite bank, a frown turning the corners of his mouth down.
“It’s just water.”
Bone chilling cold water, she imagined. Her kid boots weren’t made for this sort of weather. Why had she not bothered to buy a sturdy pair of work boots instead of wearing this useless decorative pair? She sighed. Because she didn’t think she’d need them. Why would she? Thomas had promised her once they made it to Montana, her life would be as it always had been. Privileged, with nothing but the finest. How stupid she’d been. The life she led before this was now over, changed forever by impossible dreams and foolish ambition.
She glanced at her boots again. The silk was beyond repair and she was missing a few buttons on her right foot. They were ruined. Water couldn’t hurt them at this point.
The man hissed out a curse and stomped back into the water and headed her way. Her eyes widened as he glared at her. He was mumbling under his breath. She only caught a few words—something about women and not having time—as he stepped up on the bank.
He came at her and she flinched, her heart slamming against her ribcage seconds before he grabbed her. She bit back a scream as he hoisted her into the air as if she weighed nothing and pulled her against his chest, looking her in the eye. “This is the last time I coddle you,” he said. “It’s a long damn walk to Silver Falls so you either keep up or get left behind. Got it?” He glared down at her and didn’t wait for a reply before he started back across the stream. His feet hit the water hard enough a few fat drops splashed into the air to wet her face. When he reached the other side, he put her feet back on the ground and walked away as if she wasn’t there.
She studied his retreating form and blinked. Why did he seem so irritated with her? If she was such a burden, why did he tell her to come with him?
And why did one look into his grey eyes make her heart race to the point she felt dizzy?
Chapter 3
The need to turn and see if she was behind him burned through his veins but he kept his gaze locked on the cabin. Why had he brought her along? She’s slowed him down, caused unneeded worry and the responsibility of taking care of her weighed so heavily on his shoulders it felt as if he was carrying that broken down wagon of hers instead of his pack.
He pushed through the snow banks until the steps to the cabin came into view. The door was slightly ajar. He stopped and turned his head to look behind him, held up one hand to stop her from coming closer. He lowered his pack and pulled the rifle from its straps, shouldered it and toed the door open hard enough it smashed into the wall. A furry brown blur raced by his foot and he bit back a curse as he watched it scurry away. Turning back to the cabin, he peeked inside, then lowered the rifle. “It’s clear,” he said, picking his pack up and carrying it inside.
He tossed his things to the floor and crossed to the fireplace built into the back wall. There was still wood left from the last time
he’d been there and he spent the next ten minutes stacking it in the fireplace and lighting it, waiting to make sure it stayed lit before standing.
The girl stood by the door, her back against the wall. She looked around the room, then turned her gaze to him. Her eyes were green. The color was rich and vibrant like the summer grasses that covered the fields near Silver Falls when the snows melted. She wasn’t overly tall. The top of her head barely reached his chin. A few long golden-brown curls of her hair lay against the bruised side of her face. Her lips were blistered red from where she’d licked them and the chill in the air chapped them raw. His gaze lingered there. The fullness of her lips made him think things he had no right thinking but once the thought was there, he couldn’t push it away.
He cleared his throat and turned to his pack and opened it, taking out the dried meats and tossing them to the table. He hung the water canteen on one of the nails hammered into the wall and grabbed his rifle and turned back to the door. “I’ll go gather more firewood and see if I can find something fresh to eat. Come sit by the fire and warm yourself.” He didn’t wait for a reply, just crossed the small space between them and slid past her back out into the cold.
The storm was moving in—the snow falling more heavily now and the frigid bite to the air was enough to clear his head. Having her here was messing with his peace of mind. He’d been so long without the company of another—especially a woman—she was distracting him and the fact she was, annoyed him—and made his heart race with possibilities he didn’t want nor need.
He stomped back across the stream, water filling his boots for the third time. He shook his head. Why had he carried her across instead of making her walk? He should have never touched her. He’d done his best to ignore her most of the day but then he’d went and picked her up, held her close to his chest—her small arms wrapping around his neck in the process—and he couldn’t get the sensation out of his head.