Saving the Mountain Man’s Legacy (Brothers of Sapphire Ranch #8)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

December 22, 1870

Wilderness near Canvas Creek, Montana Territory

A lmost to the mine.

As Sampson Coulter’s horse neared the last curve in the trail, he straightened in his saddle, stretching out his back. After working so many months in McPharland’s cave mines, his body had forgotten how it felt to spend hours in the saddle. He should have left Missoula Mills earlier yesterday. Then he wouldn’t have had to stop for the night in that old trapper’s cabin. At least he’d had shelter before the rest of today’s long ride.

Now he barely had time to check in with Mick, hitch the horses quickly, and get back to Jedidiah with the wagon load he’d been sent to retrieve. He didn’t relish sleeping in the cold again, especially with the blasting powder packed in the wagon bed, but he’d have to if he didn’t want to drive through the night. That stuff became unreliable in icy temperatures.

As the trees opened up around him, he raised a hand to shield his eyes from the bright light reflecting off the snow around the mountain that hid McPharland’s mine. Even though the sun shone high overhead, the cold wind bit through his coat and sent chills up his spine. It wouldn't be long now until the snow started falling.

And Christmas. A pang gripped his chest, one he usually didn’t allow in. He’d lost track of the exact day, but someone in Missoula Mills had said Christmas was later this week.

This was the first yuletide he’d be away from his family. They’d have a festive time, with the place all decorated with holly and ribbons and a tree. The women would make a big meal, and there’d be presents. Singing.

He pushed hard against the memories, forcing his mind onto the terrain around him.

A strange noise sounded, and for a second, it felt like part of his imaginings. His family singing carols.

But this wasn’t singing. A cry, maybe. Not a fox or any kind of wildcat.

Was that…a baby?

Another cry confirmed the sound. What on earth? It didn’t come from the direction of the mountain. To the right of it maybe.

His mind whirled with possibilities, and he turned his horse that direction. Approaching the source of the noise, he slowed his mount.

A small wagon came into view, partially hidden by a cluster of pine trees. A young woman stood beside it, her back turned to him as she bent over something in the wagon bed.

The baby's cries grew louder, and the woman's voice rose in frustration. "Shh, shh, little one. I know, I know. Just give me a moment."

Sampson pulled his horse to a halt a few steps away and dismounted. "Ma'am? Is everything all right?"

The woman spun, her eyes wide.

He took her in, the force of her appearance—such a small, dainty thing out here in this wilderness tainted so fully by McPharland’s presence—caught him off guard. He braced his feet to keep from backing up a step.

She stared back, mirroring his shock. Then the babe wailed, and her attention snapped to the child on the wagon. The lower half of the child had been stripped bare. That explained the crying and kicking its little legs. The infant must be half frozen in this wind.

The woman wrestled to cover the babe with a strip of unwieldy cloth. “I just…it won’t… Be still, Ruby. We have to get you…”

She seemed to be having a rough time of it, with one hand firm on a little leg and the other trying to wrap the fabric around the child.

He moved to her side, keeping enough space between them that she hopefully wouldn’t think him a threat. “How can I help?” He’d never put on a diaper before, but he could offer an extra set of hands.

She spared the quickest of glances his way, but a fresh wail from the child made her cringe. She spoke loudly to be heard over the cries. “Can you hold her feet? Gently. She keeps squirming, and I don’t want to get the clean diaper soiled.”

He reached in to grip the tiny ankles in one fist. How had he never realized how massive his hands were? But the moment his calloused fingers closed around those toothpick ankles, he added his other hand. He couldn’t grip them tight. This babe was barely bigger than his palms, and her ankles weren’t much larger around than his thumb. Any little squeeze might snap the bones in two.

The woman worked around his gangly arms, wrapping the cloth in a neat hold that hadn’t seemed possible when she was fighting with the material seconds ago. As she pulled the knot tight, she murmured, “Keep hold of her another minute while I get the rest of it off.”

He checked the pressure of his grip as the woman worked the babe’s tiny hands out of her sleeves. Did she intend to strip the child fully? It was too cold out here for all that. This infant couldn’t be more than a few days old. How could she even survive being so tiny?

But when the woman turned the babe’s shoulders to release the back of the gown underneath her, a wave of stench wafted up. Ugh.

Turning away, he pressed his mouth closed and tried not to breathe through his nose. That diaper must not have done its job well at all.

“You can let go now,” the woman said. “Thank you.”

Whew. Thank goodness. He released the babe’s ankles and stepped back. Once more, he turned his head for a clean breath, but that gust of smell must have singed his nose hairs. He couldn’t get shed of the odor.

“That’s my girl. All better.” The woman murmured quiet words as she lifted the babe up to her shoulder, tucking the blanket around her.

He could no longer see the infant, but her cries turned to shuddering whimpers. The sound twisted something inside him. Such a fragile, helpless little thing.

The woman swayed and bounced, whispering something he couldn’t hear. Then she lifted her eyes to him, a hint of embarrassment tinging them. “Thank you for your help.”

He nodded, then shuffled back a step and glanced around. “Your man gone somewhere?” He’d not thought of that before. Why were these two here alone? And so close to Mick’s mine? Surely her husband didn’t work for Samson’s employer.

Mick didn’t take on families. Only single men who could live in the bunk room and work in the caves.

She lifted her chin, but it did little to raise her stature. She must be a head and a half shorter than he was. Not even five foot if he had to guess. “I’m looking for my father. He works near here.”

His body tensed, but he kept his face casual. “What’s his name?” She had to be talking about Mick’s operation. Was her father Cornwall, the new fellow who came a fortnight ago? He didn’t seem old enough to have a grown daughter, though this woman didn’t look much older than a girl herself.

She was scrutinizing him. Wondering what kind of men her father worked with? “Jedidiah Hampton.”

He blinked, the reaction slipping out before he could stop it.

Jedidiah…Hampton?

Surely, she didn’t mean the tyrant whom McPharland depended on to do his dirty work. Had he ever heard Jedidiah’s surname? Apparently not, as Hampton wasn’t familiar at all.

Just Jedidiah , like the first man had only been named Adam. Except Adam had been breathed to life by the Almighty, and Jedidiah had probably been created directly by Satan himself. He delighted in evil more than any person Sampson had ever met.

The woman studied him, so he tried to clear any remnants of shock from his expression and raised his brows. “What does he look like exactly?”

She frowned and gave a half-shrug. “I don’t know. Taller than me but…” She glanced above Sampson’s eyes. “Not near as tall as you. Hair darker than mine but with gray mixed in.”

That wasn’t a very detailed description. It described Jedidiah though. How many men by that name could there be in this area? But… “You say you’re his daughter?”

Jedidiah always seemed more demon than human. How could he possibly have a child? Or rather…how could he have sired a young woman as pretty as this one?

But if she truly was her father’s daughter, she must be wily. Devious. Innocent in appearance but capable of great evil. He’d best be on guard.

And he should also make certain they were speaking of the same man.

Once more, he worked for a casual tone. “I know a man named Jedidiah, but I don’t know his surname. Do you know whose mine your father works in?”

McPharland possessed the only mine in this area, as far as he knew, but this woman might have gotten off track in her search.

She squinted. “A man named Mick?” It came out as a question, as though she needed him to say for sure.

His middle churned. Her words confirmed all he needed.

He let his gaze roam her face. She did have the same small, condensed features as Jedidiah. On her, they looked delicate and lovely, though on her father, they only made him blend in with a crowd. Like an old miner who’s outlived his prime.

Her eyes were different than her father’s though, wide and clear blue. Jedidiah’s were dark and narrowed. Or maybe that was simply from the constant glare he gave everyone he deigned to speak to.

The babe on her shoulder fussed again, and the woman resumed swaying. “Can you tell me where I can find my father?”

Sampson sent a glance toward the mountain. No one had come out, and they were mostly hidden from view, but that didn’t mean a guard wasn’t watching. If this truly was Jedidiah’s daughter, he might be using her to prove Sampson’s loyalty. He’d need to do as she asked, as much as he thought Jedidiah would want anyway. Certainly, he couldn’t allow her to interfere with his orders, but letting her ride along behind him wouldn’t slow him down.

“I just left your father in Missoula Mills. He sent me back for supplies. It will take me about a half hour to hitch the team and load up, then you can follow me back to him if you’d like. It’s a full day’s ride, and since we’re starting at midday, we’ll need to stay the night on the road. There’s a little trapper’s cabin I usually bed down in. It’s a bit drafty, but we can start a fire and keep warm.”

As he spoke, the reality of what he was suggesting settled in. She had a newborn baby. It couldn’t be healthy for the child to spend so many hours in the cold, then sleep in a shack that barely kept out the wind. And the woman… How long since she’d given birth? Could she even drive a team?

And the biggest question of all…where was her husband?

He looked around, thinking he’d see a man in the scrubby trees, but nobody emerged. “Is your husband close by? I can wait a little while, or else give you directions to the main road.”

Her pert chin tipped up. “I’m not married. But if you’ll give me those directions, I won’t hold you up any longer.”

Not married.

The words sunk like a weight around his shoulders. He couldn’t let her go alone. Especially not with that tiny bundle in her arms.

He needed to get her to Jedidiah. And he had to get the powder there quickly.

He glanced at her wagon. She didn’t have much loaded in it—just a few crates and a rocking chair. He could probably fit them in the wagon with the blasting powder. Except the rocking chair. He couldn’t lay anything heavy on the powder, so that would have to stay.

“I’ll tell you what. Let me get my team and wagon ready, then we’ll move your things into mine, and I can drive both of you. That way you can have your hands free to take care of Little Bit there.” He nodded to the babe, who’d begun to make little mewling noises.

The woman frowned. “I’d rather take my wagon. If you’ll just tell me how to get there, I’ll be on my way.”

He fought to hold in his sigh. “I can tell you, ma’am, but Jedidiah would not look on me kindly for sending his daughter and grandbaby off into the wilderness on their own. ‘Specially when I’m headed the same way with a wagon that has plenty of room for you both.”

She added a pinched mouth to her frown. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

Was there a polite way to say how much more frustrating she was being keeping him standing here when he had a schedule to keep? His brother Gil could have managed it, but Sampson would do best not to try. He did offer a smile. “I’d appreciate you letting me help, ma’am, your father being Jedidiah and all.”

That last bit seemed to bring her around, for she finally sighed. “All right then. Should I follow you with my team?”

He shook his head. “Stay here and get your things packed up. I’ll be back soon.”

He’d better make up all the time he could, for surely traveling with a woman and babe would slow him down. And he didn’t relish Jedidiah’s reaction if he kept the man waiting.