“I’d say it’s too risky to light a fire. There should be some fruit tucked down in the bottom, though. That, along with meat and corn bread, will have to do for our meal.”
Too bad he’d not had time to finish purchasing his supplies at the mercantile. They could have had fresh bread and preserves instead of his dry skillet corn bread.
She sank down to the hard ground, her shoulders slumped, not reaching for the pack. “I’ll take care of it.”
He patted one of those shoulders to offer encouragement. The womanly softness of her nearly snatched his breath. He’d forgotten how different a woman felt from his own hard lines. So rarely had he ever let himself touch a female, and only in the most innocent contact. At least, for the last ten years.
Maybe he’d kept himself too far from women, for this one simple touch shouldn’t affect him so strongly. He’d best put some space between them. “I’ll settle the horses, then be back to help.”
While he watered and fed the animals, his mind had too much time to wander. If the gang moved to the old hideout after stopping at the cave, it’d be another six days before they reached it. Certainly he could catch them before that.
The men were moving fast, though. As hard as he’d pushed today, it didn’t seem like he and Mrs. Watson were gaining on them by even a minute.
In some ways, that was good news. If they kept riding every minute they could, they weren’t taking time to enjoy their female prisoner. His stomach churned at the thought, but he had to be honest about it. At least to himself.
He couldn’t imagine Nate or Aaron doing something so vile to an innocent young woman, especially not Nate. Perhaps Aaron had been hardened by the two men they’d added to the gang when Isaac dropped out.
He’d heard stories of some of the gang’s actions in recent years that made his blood boil. And heaped on another layer of guilt for his part in starting the group.
But that was behind him. He’d been forgiven by his father—both his heavenly and earthly fathers. And the last thing he wanted now was for his past misdeeds to be brought to life.
Especially in the presence of a proper woman like Mrs. Watson. Hardworking and strong, yet with a grace about her that caught his notice time and again. Not a woman who would ever pay heed to a man like him, forgiven or not.
How shameful he’d feel if she came to know his past. His connection with the men who’d taken a young woman. And her son.
Was it possible to face down this gang without making his past known? Only time would tell.
Laura Hannon huddled low in the saddle against the rain falling in steady rivulets down her face. Not only did she not have a bonnet, but the hat of the man riding behind her regularly dumped its load of water down the back of her neck.
If only that were the worst of her troubles.
This was their third morning in the saddle, and she had no idea where these men were taking her and Samuel. By that first night, she’d established they were some kind of outlaw gang, and from the off-color comments and looks that made her want to shrink underneath a heavy blanket, she was quite certain what they wanted from her.
Yet none of them had made advances. Not even Aaron, even though she’d been riding for two days with him, pressed much closer than she liked.
The two men riding in the lead were the ruffians who worried her. The taller brute had been the one to attack the poor sheriff with such savage blows while the other sat nearby on his horse, rifle pointed and face a stoic mask. Until he pulled the trigger.
Her eyes had been glued to the beaten man. The sound of his cries still haunted her ears, the image of his body jerking as the bullet slammed into him at such close range pulsing through her mind. She didn’t remember crying out, but she must have. How else would the men have known she and Samuel were hiding below the edge of the riverbank?
Remnants of fear clutched her chest again as her mind brought back the memory of the massive brute charging down the embankment faster than she’d thought possible for someone his size. His grip around her arm had stopped all blood flowing to her hand, and Samuel’s cry had stilled her heart the same way.
She hated that the boy had to ride with that beast of a man. Maybe she should ask to switch places with the lad. Samuel was being so brave, although he still talked and wiggled enough to keep himself always in their awareness. He’d only cried once as they’d bedded down the night before, his oversized tears sliding down freckled cheeks as he pleaded for his mother. Her own tears had joined his, but she couldn’t let that happen again. She couldn’t show weakness, even in the dark of night.
She shifted in the saddle as they rode down a muddy incline. It took all her strength not to lean back against the man behind her while they descended the steep hill, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Yet her lower body ached with a fierceness that would take a long time to overcome. The day before she’d finally gone numb from the pain of sitting against the saddle horn for so many hours. If only that numbness would come again now.
Please save us, Lord. Get us away from these men somehow.
Out here in the middle of the mountain wilderness, with rain streaming down her face and saturating all her clothing, she struggled to believe the Almighty heard her tiny cry.
If only she could find a way for her and Samuel to escape these ogres tonight. Before something worse happened.
“We’ll stop here for the night.”
Joanna had been expecting those words, and as desperate as she was to push on and find her son, relief slipped through her, stealing a bit of her strength. The rain had drenched them for hours—all day really—only slowing to a misty drizzle a little while ago.
Isaac dismounted from his gelding, moving with an easy grace that must mean he didn’t ache everywhere from the long day in the saddle. Must be nice.
“It should be safe to start a fire if we can find any dry wood. With that mountain between us and the men we’re chasing, and the clouds blocking out all the starlight, I don’t think they’ll see our smoke.”
“Good.” She leaned forward and let her weary body slide from the horse’s back. Isaac may have expected more enthusiasm from his announcement, but this was all she could muster. Her ankles nearly buckled when her feet hit the ground, and she clutched the saddle to keep herself upright.
“We’ll need to dry out some things in the packs once we get the blaze going. It’ll be nice to have something warm to eat, too.” Isaac approached, leading his two horses, and took her mare’s reins.
In the darkness, she couldn’t see much of his face. “Might help to walk a little and look for dry wood in those trees.”
Walking sounded too painful just now, but she had to let go of the saddle so he could take her horse.
Maybe her posture gave away too much of her thoughts, for he added, “Or you can sit and rest for a minute.”
She gathered her strength and stepped away from the horse, squaring her shoulders as she moved. “I’ll look for wood.” Joanna Watson did not shirk her responsibilities, no matter how exhausted and worried she was.
As she scrambled along the base of the mountain toward the trees, she gathered every stick and log that seemed to have a chance of burning. She didn’t find much wood dry enough to start the fire, but there was plenty they could set out around the blaze to dry for use later in the night.