This Courageous Journey

by Misty M. Beller

  “Daniel?” She was by his side now, dropping to her knees. Was that a twitch of his eyelid?

  Griz pawed at his coat with another whine.

  She eased her hand out to touch him. Would he be cold? God, please no. He couldn’t be gone.

  Her fingers brushed his brow. Not cold. Not especially warm, but warm enough that blood pumped through his veins.

  She almost collapsed over him as she took his face in both her hands. “Wake up, Daniel. What’s wrong?”

  His eyelid flickered. No question about it this time.

  Thank you, Lord. The pressure in her chest began to ease, and she ran her hand down his shoulder and arm, nudging to bring him back to awareness. Had he broken something? Hit his head?

  She moved back to his face and smoothed her hands over his hair, which had dried in stiff curls, working her fingers over every bit of his scalp. No bumps that she could feel.

  “Daniel, wake up.” She took his shoulder again and pushed hard.

  A tiny groan seeped from him, as though he were in a great deal of pain. Maybe a broken arm.

  She scanned his body, running her gaze over what she could see of both arms and legs. Nothing seemed to rest at an odd angle. The injury must be hidden under his clothing.

  His next groan came louder, and he shifted, rolling a little like he was trying to turn onto his back.

  She pressed his shoulder to help him. “Where do you hurt?”

  His eyelids fluttered open. They seemed to hover at half-mast, then raise fully. His gaze wandered around the trees above him, as though he were trying to place where he might be.

  She pulled her hand away to allow him a moment to settle. “You were gone all night. I went out to look for you, but then I got lost, too. Griz was the one who found you.”

  His gaze dropped to her as soon as she spoke, and he studied her with an expression she’d never seen on him. Like he was trying to decipher her meaning. As if he had trouble understanding the words.

  “Daniel?” That pressure in her chest tightened again.

  His brow bunched in a thoroughly confused look. “Wh-who are you?” His voice rasped so much, she wasn’t sure at first she understood him.

  Or maybe she simply wanted to deny the fear his words tightened inside her. She tried to keep the terror from her voice. “Noelle. You’re taking me north to my brother’s home in Canada.”

  How badly had he hit his head? Maybe a simple reminding would bring his memories back.

  Yet the light of understanding didn’t brighten his eyes.

  “Do you remember what happened to you? Something with the horses?” She scanned his body again. That smoky smell was so strong. Not quite the scent of a woodfire. It had an acrid odor to it. Like the smell of burnt... She sniffed again.

  Burnt...flesh.

  Her stomach churned, and her head went light as she studied him again. “Daniel. Can you tell me what hurts?”

  He raised his right hand, his gaze dropping to study it with that confused look. But then his expression turned to pain.

  She forced her own eyes down to the limb, then sucked in a breath at the black spot on his palm. Grabbing his fingers, she studied the mark in the center of his hand. The middle was black, like something sooty had touched it, but was circled by a ring of bright red. As though he’d pressed his hand to something round and scorching.

  “What happened?”

  His brow scrunched so much, she feared it would never lie flat again. “I don’t...know. It hurts.” He spoke slowly, each word coming through a haze of effort.

  The smoky scent was strong as she leaned closer to his hand. Had he caught fire? How could that have happened? She couldn’t imagine that even Daniel Abrams could have gotten a fire blazing in that downpour.

  A thought struck, a thought with the power to knock her backward. Had he been hit by lightning?

  “Daniel.” She studied his eyes as he worked to focus his gaze on her. “Do you remember the lightning last night? The storm?”

  He squinted, confusion clouding his dark eyes. Then his look changed to frustration as he gave his head a slow shake. “I can’t seem to recall anything.”

  Was that a symptom of lightning strike? In truth, how could a person survive such a thing?

  “Can you tell me what else hurts? Your head? Your legs?”

  He shifted, grimacing. “Nothing feels right.” Then he looked at his legs, moved his left boot. His mouth pinched tighter. “This leg aches. Not working like it should.”

  She moved down to the right leg where he motioned. She reached out to check the limb for injury but paused just before she touched him. “May I?”

  Twin lines stayed locked between his brows as he nodded. Was he as worried as she was? What would it be like not to remember anything?

  She placed her hand just above his knee since she couldn’t bring herself to reach higher, then ran her fingers down toward his feet. His buckskins had already dried. Hopefully they’d protected his body from the cold, too.

  He sucked in a breath.

  She paused, turning to study his face. “Hurt?”

  “I’m all right.” But one look at his face made it clear he was in pain, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

  She resumed her probing, sliding her fingers more gently all the way to his moccasins. No breaks that she could feel. No swelling, just firm muscle beneath her hands. Sculpted and strong. She released a steadying breath and pulled back from the man.

  A glimpse of something dark on the edge of his moccasin caught her attention. She shifted around so she could see the sole. Most of the leather had been scorched black.

  She reached a finger to touch the spot, which crackled like dry ash.

  “What is it?” Daniel’s voice held more strength now. Almost demanding.

  After sliding a glance at the other shoe, which held only the normal dirt and grass stains, she met his gaze. “The bottom of this moccasin is singed.”

  Confusion muddied his eyes and scrunched his forehead again. “How can that be?”

  He might as well know what she was pretty certain of by now. “I think you’ve been struck by lightning.”

  Chapter Eleven

  This fear I must push aside. God would not lead me to this place to abandon me.

  ~ Noelle

  Noelle watched as Daniel’s eyes rounded. “Lightning? How...?”

  She gave him a moment to remember, but his expression kept that fierce, confused look, as though he was fighting to remember.

  A sigh leaked out of her. “There was a bad storm last night. You took the horses to settle them for the night, but you never came back. I’ve been looking for you ever since.” Which brought up a new question. “Where are the horses? Do you remember?”

  His gaze turned guarded. “How...many were there?”

  The knot in her stomach clenched tighter. “Three. Pauper, Gypsy, and a new mare you traded from the Indians.”

  No flash of recognition.

  “You remember your horses, right? That big bay gelding who’s headstrong, but has the most glorious stride?”

  “I...remember a paint. Brown-and-white with a black mane.” The description didn’t match any of their horses, but he seemed to have struggled for even that much. Maybe an animal he owned in the past?

  She shifted so she was sitting beside him, and Griz leaned against her as though looking for comfort. Maybe this whole situation scared the dog as much as it did her. “Why don’t you tell me all you do remember?”

  His gaze scanned the woods around them, then slid to the dog. “He looks a little familiar. I remember Fights Alone handing him to me. A gift...I think.” He raised his hand to stroke the dog but flinched when his burned skin touched fur.

  Griz leaned forward and licked his fingers.

  “Hey, boy.” He rubbed the dog’s muzzle. “When did you get so big?”

  The exchange between man and beast was touching, yet there was so much she and Daniel still had to set to rights. “Wha
t else do you remember?”

  Daniel’s gaze lifted to her face, his eyes roaming her features like a potter sculpting a vase. Touching every part. “I don’t know you.” She must have let some of her disappointment show, because added. “I’m sorry. You’re pretty. But I haven’t seen a white woman in years.”

  Despite everything that had happened since they made camp the night before, heat crept up her neck. He thought her pretty? But the rest of his words shoved the compliment aside. She touched his shoulder. “Daniel. We’ve been traveling together for weeks now. You’re taking me to my brother’s home in the Canadian Territory. We had another family with us until we left them at Fort Whitson three days ago.

  His brows drew low as he tried on her words, then he shook his head. “I don’t recall any of that.”

  She sighed, then straightened and looked around. Were they near the camp? With the excitement of finding Daniel, her hunger had slipped from her mind. But a forceful twinge in her middle now brought it forefront. Daniel needed food and water, too.

  The rustle of the creek sounded from her right. But she had nothing with which to carry water. She’d have to find their supplies.

  Pushing to her feet, she brushed the leaves from her skirts. “I’m going to find our camp, then I’ll bring everything here. Stay put until I return. All right?”

  He worked to push himself up to a sitting position, his face forming a grimace with the effort.

  “Daniel. I think you should rest while I’m gone.” But she didn’t stop him, no matter how much she wanted to.

  “I’m all right.” He made it upright, his breath coming in heavy gasps.

  “At least lean back against this tree. I’m not leaving unless I know you’re comfortable.” She bent to help him shift backwards to the rough trunk of a lodgepole pine.

  “I’m fine.” He motioned her away as he settled. Then he raised his gaze to her face, squinting, probably against the sun at her back. “You know where you’re going? You don’t look like you’ve had much experience in these parts.”

  She pushed up to her feet, straightening her shoulders. “It seems I know the way more than you at this point.”

  The confusion that touched his eyes sent a wash of remorse. How could she insult him when he was most vulnerable? He’d just survived something that seemed impossible to live through—a lightning strike. Yet here he was, talking and sitting of his own power. He deserved kindness at the very least. And respect.

  She inhaled a stabilizing breath. “I shouldn’t have said that. You’re right. The only experience I have in this territory is the weeks I’ve spent with you. I have an idea which direction the camp should be, so I plan to follow my instincts, and I hope I’m right.”

  He studied her again, watching so long, his gaze brought that heat back up her neck. Was he waiting for her to say something? She should just say farewell and leave.

  But then he spoke. “That’s how I’ve always found my way out here. Instincts. Except mine have been honed from years with Pa and Nikataya and the others.” His gaze pierced her. “Don’t go if you think you don’t know the way.”

  She swallowed down the knot in her throat. She could hear his unspoken meaning. If you’re lost, I’m not in any condition to save you.

  Bracing herself, she raised her chin. “I can do it. I’ll be back in an hour or so.” I hope. And maybe she’d find the horses while she was at it.

  Without waiting for his approval, she turned and struck off away from the creek. Lord willing, this would take her to the edge of the woods, and she could follow the tree line until she found the camp.

  And she would find the camp. She had to. Without those supplies, how would they survive even a day or two out here?

  SHE’D EXPECTED GRIZ to stay with Daniel, but about five minutes into her hike, the dog trotted up beside her. Should she send him back? He could be protection for Daniel if a dangerous animal approached.

  Or maybe... Could he help find the camp? Or perhaps even the horses? There was no telling how far the storm had scattered them.

  She reached down and ruffled the thick scruff at the dog’s neck. “Find our camp, boy. Can you? Food. Let’s eat.” Maybe he knew one of those words.

  The dog didn’t seem to perk, just kept trotting along beside her. Looked like she’d have to rely on her own abilities to find their belongings.

  And God’s. The thought struck with poignant force. She paused and raised her face toward the blue sky peeking through the barren tree limbs overhead. “Yes, Lord. I truly can’t do this without you. Help me find the camp. And the horses. And bring back Daniel’s memory. Please.”

  She stayed like that for a long moment, letting her eyes drift shut as her prayer lifted heavenward. In exchange, a deep peace sank through her, slowing her racing heart, easing the tension that spread through her shoulders and across her chest. She inhaled a long breath, held it, then released the spent air in a slow stream.

  After opening her eyes, she glanced down at Griz. He gazed up with those soulful eyes, panting. “All right, boy. Let’s go.”

  Soon, they reached the edge of the trees where the ground sloped steeply up the mountain. Left or right? Left would take her back to the spot where she’d departed from the tree line the night before. Probably best to head toward that point to make sure she didn’t miss anything. Especially since she’d been traveling in the woods this morning during that reckless chase to follow Griz as he found Daniel.

  Within minutes, the tree line ahead took on a familiar shape. She could just see the brown of an oilskin stretched between several trees. Her pulse leapt again. “We found it.”

  Griz barked and sprinted forward, probably picking up on the joy in her voice.

  “We found it. Oh, thank you, Lord.” As she stepped inside the carefully constructed shelter, a feeling of normality settled over her like a comfortable dress. As if the last half day she’d been forced into someone else’s world and had finally returned to the life she knew and loved.

  Sinking onto one of the bedrolls, she scanned the packs and the pile of firewood she’d gathered. Maybe it would be better to bring Daniel here than try to transport everything to where he was and attempt to recreate their camp. She’d walked here in about twenty minutes, so maybe he could make it that far. At least they could try.

  The food she’d set out for their meal the night before was gone. Maybe taken by a squirrel or fox, or some other small creature, because their pack hadn’t been ravished.

  Thank you, Lord, for protecting it.

  She pulled out more jerky and the last two corncakes, then tossed a bit of meat to Griz. He caught the piece mid-air and swallowed it in a single gulp. After sliding his tongue over his lips, he turned his focus back to her, those big eyes expectant.

  She bit into her own strip, savoring the thickness of the slab and the salty flavor. A bit of dried meat had never tasted so good.

  Griz whined, pulling her focus away from her pleasure.

  “You think you need more?”

  He worked his front paws on the ground and tilted his handsome head at her.

  “It’s not fair to use all your charms.” She tossed him another piece, which he caught and gulped down again. “You know, if you take time to chew your food, you’ll feel full quicker. You might enjoy the taste, too.”

  He whined again.

  “One more.” She handed over a piece half the size of the others. “We need to ration what we have until Daniel’s well enough to hunt again.”

  But that thought started the tightness across her shoulders again. What if it took him days to recover? They didn’t have that much meat. Not for all three of them. Daniel had planned to supplement their few supplies with fresh meat as they went.

  She would just have to go hunting herself.

  But first, she had to get food and water in Daniel, then bring him back to camp. Too bad she didn’t have dry clothing to change into before setting out again. Daniel had said to pack as lightly as possible, so s
he’d left her other clothes with Louise, thinking she could sew more when she reached Simeon’s place.

  Now, she’d have to endure the dampness. At least her coat had kept much of her shirtwaist dry.

  After packing a few supplies, she started out on her backtrail. She’d left Daniel longer than she should have.

  He appeared to be sleeping as she approached him. Or maybe just resting, because, although his head lolled against the tree and his eyes were shut, he wasn’t snoring or even breathing very loudly.

  Her heart stalled. Surely he wasn’t...

  But then his fingers shifted. She focused on the buckskins covering his chest. Yes, they rose and lowered.

  “Daniel?”

  “Yeah?” His eyes didn’t open, but his voice sent a rush of relief through her.

  She dropped to her knees beside him. “I brought food.”

  “Water?” He opened a single eye and turned it on her.

  “Yes, let me fill the cup from the stream.” After rising, she made quick work of it, taking only a moment to splash her face. The water flung her senses to life, invigorating the way only a mountain river could.

  With the tin cup filled, she padded back to Daniel and settled beside him. “Here you go.” She raised the water to his parched lips. He’d shaved at some point while they were at the Fort, but his stubble had already grown out to cover his strong jaw in a neat layer.

  As his mouth parted to receive the water, she leaned closer to tilt the cup. So close, only inches separated them.

  His eyelids rose, locking their gazes so tight, the pull seemed to affect her breathing. Those brown orbs had darkened to a rich walnut hue, impossible to read. Yet the connection between them was palpable, impossible to ignore.

  At last, he raised a hand to the cup and pushed it away from his mouth.

  She backed away. A little distance between them would be helpful. She turned to the food and busied herself breaking off a piece of corncake. “Do you think you can eat this?”

  He nodded, yet he hadn’t raised his head from against the tree, and his arms drooped on the ground. He looked exhausted.