Chapter 30
Every stride of the horse sent fresh pain lancing through Kate’s body.
Her wrists had gone numb hours ago, the ropes cutting off circulation where they bound her to the saddle horn.
But the rest of her felt everything—the rawness where the leather rubbed against her legs as Jake pushed her against the front of the saddle, the bone-deep cold that had settled into her like a permanent resident.
And Jake.
He sat behind her in the saddle, his arms bracketing her body as he held the reins, his chest pressed against her back in a way that made her skin crawl. Every so often, his grip would shift, his hands brushing against her sides or middle in ways that couldn’t possibly be accidental.
She wanted to scream. To twist away. To drive her elbow back into his ribs until he released her.
But the gag stole her voice, and her bound hands stole her ability to fight. All she could do was hold herself as rigid as possible, trying to create even a sliver of space between his body and hers.
Helpless.
The word burned through her mind like a brand.
She’d spent her whole life fighting this feeling. Protecting Clara when her stepmother’s cruelty turned sharp. Finding ways to survive, to endure, to keep some small piece of herself intact, no matter what was taken from her.
And now here she sat, trussed up like a market pig, utterly powerless to stop whatever these men had planned. They would use her against Thomas and his family. Use her to find their weaknesses. She had no doubt.
Thomas.
Was he at the ranch by now? Had he warned his brothers? Were they even now preparing defenses, positioning themselves to fight off this small army of hired killers?
Or had something gone wrong? Had the men’s accomplices intercepted him on the road? Was he lying somewhere in the snow, bleeding out while she—
Stop it. She squeezed her eyes shut against the images. Stop it. This won’t help.
The horse’s rhythm changed as the trail began to climb, and Jake shifted behind her, his weight pressing harder against her back. She bit down on the cloth to keep from gagging.
God...
The prayer rose unbidden, desperate.
God, if You’re there—if You’re listening—please. Please let Thomas be safe. Please let him reach his brothers in time.
The trail curved around a rocky outcrop, and the trees thinned enough that she could see the sky ahead—pale gray, the sun already sliding toward the western peaks. How long until dusk? An hour? Less?
Please let them be ready. Let them pick these men off one by one before they can hurt anyone. Before they can use me against Thomas.
Her throat tightened around the prayer.
And please...please don’t let me die out here. Not like this. Not before I’ve had a chance to tell Thomas—
What? What would she tell him?
That she’d been wrong to hold back? That he’d been the only person besides Clara to really listen. To see her. That somehow, in the short time they’d known each other, he’d become her family. Not just in name, but in the deepest parts of her heart.
She’d come to love him. And if he wanted to go to California, she’d be there at his side. Being for him what he’d come to be for her.
The horse stumbled on a patch of ice, and Jake’s arm tightened around her waist. She flinched but could do nothing to stop him.
“Almost there,” Jake said near her ear, his breath hot and sour. “We’ll see how much those Balfour boys love their newest sister.”
Sister. The word was meant to mock, but it struck a chord deep inside her.
She was their sister now. Part of their family. And they would fight for her the same way Thomas had fought for that girl in the Butte saloon—recklessly, desperately, without counting the cost.
That’s what terrified her most.
The crack of a rifle shattered the winter silence.
Her heart seized.
For one frozen instant, nothing changed. Jake tightened around her, his body going rigid.
Then the world exploded into chaos.
Gunfire erupted from every direction—the sharp cracks echoing off the rocky outcroppings, making it impossible to tell where the shots originated. Men shouted. Horses screamed and reared.
The sorrel beneath her lurched sideways, and Kate’s stomach dropped as the animal’s hindquarters slid on ice.
Jake’s arms released her—reaching for his rifle or trying to control the panicked horse, she couldn’t tell which.
She did the only thing she could. Sank as low against the horse’s neck as the ropes would allow, making herself as small a target as possible.
Another volley of shots. Closer now. The man to her right—Henry—cried out and toppled from his saddle, hitting the snow-packed trail with a sickening thud.
“Scatter!” Gray Beard’s voice bellowed above the chaos. “Get to the trees!”
The horses bolted in different directions, some carrying riders, others fleeing with empty saddles as men dove for cover. Jake fought to control the sorrel, sawing at the reins, but the terrified animal had the bit between its teeth.
They careened down the trail at a dead run, branches whipping past Kate’s face. She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed herself flat, praying the ropes would hold. Praying she wouldn’t be scraped off by a low-hanging limb.
Jake cursed and finally managed to slow their horse, then turn it.
“Nobody shoot!” he bellowed. “We’ve got the woman! We got Balfour’s wife!”
The gunfire paused, leaving an eerie quiet in its wake.
Kate’s breath came in ragged gasps around the gag.
Then cold metal pressed against her temple.
She froze. Didn’t dare even breathe.
“That’s right!” His voice rang louder now. “Anyone takes another shot, she dies first!”
Silence. Even the horses had gone still, their sides heaving, eyes rolling white.
She had to think. Had to do something. She couldn’t let her new family give up anything to save her.
She had no weapons. No way to free her hands. No way to escape.
But she had one thing Jake didn’t expect.
She had a family she wasn’t afraid to die for.
Kate threw her weight backward with every ounce of strength she possessed—slamming her head into Jake’s face with a crack that shot all the way down her spine.
He howled, his grip loosening. The horse reared. The gunfire around them started again, fiercer than before.
Kate felt herself sliding—falling—the world tilting sideways as Jake lost his hold on her completely.
Her hands were still bound to the saddle though. Keeping her from leaving the animal completely. Her feet hit the ground at the same time the horse’s did. The animal lurched, shying sideways, away from Jake crawling in the snow. Away from her at its side.
She scrambled to keep up with the sorrel. Could she grab the reins? Anything to stop the horse. Or maybe she could climb back on the saddle.
Being dragged by a panicked, bolting horse would be an awful way to die.
The horse wheeled, and her body swung out like a pendulum, her boots scrabbling for purchase on the icy ground. Pain exploded through her shoulders as the ropes yanked against her wrists.
A dark shape lunged from the trees, but she lost sight of it as the horse spun the other direction.
“Ho!”
That voice.
Even through the pain surging up her arms, that voice calmed inside her.
Then the horse slowed. Halted. The shots around them had ceased too.
“Easy there.” Thomas’s voice lowered, turning to a soothing croon. “Easy now. I’ve got you.”
She couldn’t see him—not with her face pressed against the horse’s shoulder, her arms trussed up on either side, blocking her vision.
But then a boot crunched in the snow close to her.
“Kate, are you hurt?” He kept that same calming tone. His voice not letting out an ounce of fear.
Something pressed against the rope around her wrists. Pulling it tighter for an instant.
Then the pressure released, freeing her hands from the saddle completely. In the same instant, an arm wrapped around her, scooping her up. Keeping her from falling to the snow.
Her entire body sagged, her legs buckling beneath her.
His arm tightened around her, his other joining as he pulled her close. Her back tightened against his chest. Thomas. His strength wrapped fully around her.
Then he slid to his knees, sitting her on his lap. “Let me get you free.”
His hands fumbled in her hair. That awful gag.
The fabric pulled tighter. Then loosened completely.
Pain seared through her mouth, burning the corners of her lips. The remnants of that foul taste lingered, but at least she could get a clean breath now without smelling sweat and dirt.
Then Thomas reached around in front of her, his arms wrapping her as he gripped the rope still binding her wrists with one hand. The other wielded a blade that sliced through the cord in a single sawing motion.
As he peeled the rope off, a fresh burning stung the raw, open wounds the ties had created.
Her hands trembled. Her entire body trembled.
“I’m sorry.” His voice broke on the words. “I’m so sorry, Kate.”
Then his arms were around her completely, turning her sideways against him. He crushed her against his chest with a desperation that matched the wild pounding of her own heart. She turned in his embrace, burying her face against his neck, and the tears she’d been holding back finally broke free.
“I’ve got you.” He murmured the words against her hair. “I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”
Safe. The word didn’t quite make sense yet. Her body still vibrated with terror, every nerve screaming that danger lurked just beyond the trees.
The sounds of men drifted around them. No more gunfire. Just grunts and low voices. Had the Balfours won completely, or did some of the killers escape? Maybe even now, they were taking aim from the trees.
She pulled back just enough to scan the clearing. “Are they—? There were seven of them.”
Thomas’s arms loosened but didn’t release her completely. He turned them both so she could see the scene unfolding around them.
Enoch knelt beside a man in the snow, tying his hands to his feet, from what she could tell.