Chapter 19
CHAPTER 19
G race urged the horse onward in the darkness, her arms aching from hours of holding Sampson's limp form upright in the saddle. His head lolled back against her shoulder, his breathing shallow and ragged in the icy mountain air.
Ahead of her Sitting Bear, the man Two Stones had assigned to guide her back to the Coulter ranch, led the way through the darkness. The others had stayed behind to slow the enemy down. Every few minutes the bang of gunfire sounded. Farther back, but not nearly far enough.
The dark silhouettes of pine branches overhead almost concealed the barely lightening sky. Morning. They’d almost made it through the night. Surely, they couldn’t be far from the ranch now.
She tightened her hold around Sampson’s waist and spoke into his ear the same thing she’d said so many times through this interminably long ride. "Stay with me, Sampson. We're almost there. Just hold on a little longer."
His only response was a low moan, the words garbled and dreamlike. "Jed...McPharland...mine..."
Her heart ached at the pain in Sampson's voice, even in his delirium. Her father had done this to him. And now his brothers and good friends were still in danger, risking their lives because of her father. It seemed impossible. Yet was all too true.
God, protect them. The Coulter men, the braves. And Sampson. Don’t let me lose him. Please.
Sometime in the night she’d started praying to the God Sampson said was real. A desperate act, but it felt worth trying. Sending up those words, even in her mind, had seemed to do something. She’d felt…reassured.
Maybe she only imagined the feeling. Her frantic mind grasping for something—anything—to help this man who might be dying in her arms.
She’d kept up the praying. And each urgent request left a tiny bit of relief in her chest.
Sampson still lived. Was that God answering her prayer? She had no idea, but she didn’t intend to stop.
Ahead of her, Sitting Bear reined his horse to an abrupt halt. She did the same.
He pointed up the slope to their left. "Ride to big rock. Find path to Coulter lodge." His voice turned low and urgent. "I go back. Help brothers fight."
Grace squinted through the gray light of dawn, barely making out the boulder he’d pointed to partway up the mountainside. She nodded. "Thank you. For everything."
The brave inclined his head, then turned his horse and pushed the animal into a run past her. Riding toward the fight.
She swallowed the tightness in her throat. So many risking their lives because of her desperate choices. Her arms trembled with fatigue as she shifted Sampson's dead weight, pressing her palm to his chest. His heartbeat thrummed beneath her fingers, rapid but strong.
"We're nearly there." She worked to strengthen her voice. "Stay with me, Sampson."
She nudged her weary mare forward, up the slope Sitting Bear had indicated. When they reached the large rock, a worn trail ran diagonally. She turned right to follow the path upward and the same general direction they’d been riding for hours.
Soon, she should reach the clearing. And the house. And help for Sampson.
Heat too. What she wouldn’t give for a hot fire, something to warm her bones so she could feel her limbs again.
The trail wound higher, the brightening sky revealing more of the rugged terrain with each passing minute. Grace's thighs burned from gripping the horse's sides, her muscles stiff and aching. She focused on the rhythm of the mare's hooves against the rocky ground, anything to keep her mind from the exhaustion weighing her body.
At last, the path crested a rise and the trees thinned. The cabin came into view as her mare entered the clearing. Smoke curled from the stone chimney, a promise of warmth and comfort within. And help. Tears stung her eyes.
The front door banged open, and people spilled out. Jude first, then Miles and Gil and a host of others. The entire family maybe.
She reined in when she reached them, and Jude stepped close to take Sampson. “What happened?”
Without his weight to hold up, her body sagged, nearly as limp as Sampson’s. “He was caught. They had him tied to a tree. I don’t know if they hurt him worse, but he’s been mostly unconscious on the ride.”
Gil held her horse while Eric reached up to help her down. Jude and Miles were already carrying Sampson into the house, Dinah following closely.
“Where are the others?” Eric asked as she accepted his offer and leaned on his shoulder to slide from the saddle.
She wasn’t certain her legs would hold her up when she hit the ground.
He steadied her with a hand on her upper arm. “You all right?”
“They’re fighting. Trying to keep my father’s men from the house, I think.” Her ankles buckled in the snow, and she gripped Eric’s shoulder hard to keep from going down.
Naomi slipped herself under Grace’s other shoulder. “Come in and get warm while you tell us everything.” She wrapped an arm tight around Grace’s waist.
Supported between the two of them, she hobbled to the door and up the step. The heat inside swept over her, making her bones go weak once more.
“Sit by the fire.” Patsy motioned to the rocking chair. “Ruby’s still asleep.”
Guilt pressed in as she sat. She’d barely thought of her daughter through those long night hours. Getting Sampson home alive had been her focus. Now, she managed a “Thank you.”
“What happened?” Eric asked as Jude and Miles emerged from the bed chamber where they must have laid Sampson. “We’ll ride out and help them, but it’d be good to know what we’re walking into.”
Grace tried to order her scattered thoughts. "We rode to the camp where Two Stones had taken Sampson. Jonah and Jericho met us there and said Sampson had been caught.”
“So they’re all right? Jonah? And Jericho?” Patsy’s voice broke in.
She glanced up at the woman, who stood with Angela, a little behind the men. The hope, the tentative relief on her face pressed in Grace’s chest. She’d not even thought about them worrying about the other men. Patsy was Jonah’s intended, and their wedding was to happen in a matter of weeks.
She gave an apologetic smile. “Last I saw them, Jonah and Jericho were well. Worried and angry. But not hurt.”
Patsy gave a small nod, but her lips rolled in as though she might cry. Poor woman.
“How many men are in the camp? How did you get Sampson free?” Jude’s questions drew her back to her retelling.
She finished her story, being as thorough as she could. There wasn’t much to tell though. She’d only glimpsed the campfires through the branches from where Two Stones told her to wait, mounted and ready to ride any second. The other men had tied their horses nearby. They’d hoped to all escape quietly once Two Stones freed Sampson, but that first shout had told her the plan went awry.
The moment Two Stones appeared through the trees, her husband over his shoulder, she’d nearly lost control of her tears. So much relief. And so much fear that he’d been shot.
“Did Sampson say anything? Did he hear their plans while he was in the camp?” Miles spoke up for the first time.
She shook her head. “He’s not been conscious since I’ve seen him.” A thought slipped in. “Except… he said a few words. Almost like fever delirium. I think he said my father’s name. And McPharland’s.” She thought back through those long, dark hours. “I think he said mine , but I’m not sure. He was hard to understand.”
Eric turned to the other men. “Ready then?”
They all started for the door, even Clara’s Uncle Hiram. Clara and Angela met them there to say farewell. Naomi must be back in the bed chamber with Dinah, helping care for Sampson. Grace should join them. See if there was anything she could do.
Instead of going to the door to see Gil off, Jess sank into the chair beside Grace and handed her a steaming mug. “This should help warm you. Lillian’s finishing up breakfast. I’m sure you’re starved.”
Grace took a sip but couldn’t help glancing at Jess’s face to check her expression. Had something happened between her and Gil? Why didn’t she go to say goodbye to him?
Maybe Jess overheard her thoughts, for she said, “We’d already talked about what to do if we got news the danger was coming this way. Gil will stay here to help guard the house while Jude, Eric, Miles, and Hiram ride out to help the others. They’ve had horses ready in the barn and supplies packed.”
Ahh. That made sense.
Jess’s expression turned a little sheepish, and she looked down at her hands. “Gil’s barely left the yard since I came here. He’s determined to be ready if my father comes.”
She lifted her gaze, and pain glistened in her eyes. “It was really bad, that night we escaped the caves. Gil had been beaten nearly as bad as Sampson, and my father had guards blocking all the exits.” Sadness thickened in her expression. “Your father was one of the guards. He stood watch right outside our room. We tried to sneak out through the grass, but he saw us. Somehow, God brought Jude, Miles, and Two Stones at just the right time to whisk us to safety.” She let out a long breath, as though still releasing the fear from that night. “It’s a wonder, how we got away. And I think Gil’s been waiting every minute for the counterattack. He’s determined to protect me no matter what.”
Her expression softened into the start of a smile, but the sadness lingered. “It’s hard, knowing your own father is the one putting the people you love in danger.”
The pain deep inside her edged outward, like cracks in ice, spreading from her center. Jess hadn’t meant Grace’s own father, but she might has well have. The man whose attention and love she’d craved most of her life was now attacking the people who’d taken her in. Who protected her and Ruby. The people she was coming so quickly to love. Especially Sampson.
Before she could respond, the door closed behind Eric, Jude, Hiram, and Miles, settling the room in relative quiet.
Gil sank into a chair at the window, rifle in hand and his focus through the glass.
Clara and Angela had already moved to the kitchen to help Lillian, and Sean went into the bed chamber where Dinah and Naomi sat with Sampson.
Patsy stood a little behind Gil, peering through the window. “You let me know when you’re ready for me to spell you.”
“I will.” His voice came low. Did he plan to allow her to stand guard then? He trusted a woman when there was a chance she might have to shoot a person?
Once more, Jess seemed to hear Grace’s unspoken questions. She spoke quietly. “Patsy’s a crack shot. Angela too. I think Dinah and Naomi are good also. Makes me wish I’d been able to practice.”
Grace nodded, but her mind followed the idea of it. She could shoot a rifle, but she’d rarely practiced her aim. A few times, she and Mama had gone hunting for meat, but she’d never been able to bring herself to pull the trigger on a live animal. It was hard enough to skin and clean one already dead.
She much preferred to eat the food Oren had delivered each month, even the times the meat supply had been too small to last more than a few meals.
What Jess spoke of was something much different, though. Did she really mean she wished she could have the chance to take a human life? Even her own father’s if it came down to it? Surely not. She probably wasn’t thinking the matter through. Just wanted the chance to be helpful.
“Shall I refill your mug?” Jess reached for the cup Grace held.
Grace shook her head. “I need to put my horse away, then I’ll go sit with Sampson.”
“Miles took your mare to the barn before they left.” Gil spoke up from his seat at the window.
The poor horse had been through so much, carrying two people up and down the mountain slopes for so many hours. She’d been soaked in sweat when they arrived, and Miles probably wouldn’t have been able to take the time to give her a rubdown.
Grace pushed herself to her feet, muscles protesting the movement. "I'll go brush her then. She's earned it."
Jess stood as well and took her empty cup. "I'll come with you to help." Her eyes darted to the window where Gil kept watch.
Grace looked his way too. Would he stop them from going outside?
But he only gave a small nod, his gaze never leaving the tree line beyond the yard.
As Grace pulled on her gloves and crossed to the door, Jess followed her to don coat, hat, and gloves. By the time they stepped out into the icy morning air, the sky had lightened to a pale gray. They descended the hill to the barn, their boots crunching in the snow.
Inside, her mare stood in a stall, already unsaddled and unbridled, a blanket over her back. Miles had been thorough, even with little time.
She stepped inside and ran a hand down the horse's damp neck. "You did so well, girl. Thank you."
Jess appeared with brushes and handed one to Grace. For a few minutes, they worked in silence, the rhythmic swish of the bristles the only sound.
"What else did Sampson say?" Jess finally asked, not looking up from her work on the mare's withers. "You mentioned my father's name."
Grace shook her head, the motion sending a dull ache through her temples. Her exhaustion was returning in force. "Just our fathers’ names and the word mine . Even those were hard to make out. He was barely conscious most of the way here."
She closed her eyes, remembering the feel of Sampson's weight against her, the way his head had lolled against her shoulder. She’d been so afraid she’d lose him. That she’d never again see the warmth in his eyes or the curve of his smile.
She swallowed hard against the memories and focused on brushing the mare's flank. She couldn't let herself think the worst. Sampson was strong. He would pull through this. He had to.
Jess's soft voice interrupted her spiraling thoughts. "How are you holding up through all this? It can't be easy, your husband being hurt so badly, and by your own father's men…"
Grace paused in her brushing and met the other woman's empathetic gaze. She tried to muster a smile, but it felt weak. "It's been…hard. I hate that I've brought all this trouble down on Sampson and all of you. If I had never left my cabin, never went to Missoula Mills, never met Sampson…"
"Don’t do that." Jess shook her head firmly. "None of this is your fault. Our fathers…” Pain flashed in her eyes. “…they're not good men. They would have come after the Coulters sooner or later, whether you were here or not. Please don't blame yourself."
Tears pricked at Grace’s eyes, and she blinked them away. Jess was right, logically she knew that. But the guilt still gnawed at her insides like a persistent rodent. If only she had stayed hidden away from the world, maybe Sampson would be safe and whole right now.
As if reading her mind, Jess reached across the horse’s back and rested her hand on Grace’s, her voice gentle but insistent. "Sampson doesn't regret a thing."
Grace looked up sharply, searching Jess's face. How could he not wish he'd never laid eyes on her? He was unconscious, badly wounded, because of her choice to leave that lonely valley.
Jess smiled softly. "I don't know him well, but I did talk to him a bit when he was working in my father's mine. And I saw the way he looked at you yesterday morning, when you helped him to the chair after he remembered about Jedidiah's camp." Her smile deepened. "The moment you touched him, his whole demeanor changed. Like you were his anchor in the storm. That kind of bond, that devotion in a man's eyes…it doesn't happen by accident or obligation. Sampson cares for you, Grace. Deeply. I'd stake my life on it."
Grace's heart clenched, painful and wonderful all at once. She wanted to believe Jess's words, wanted it so badly she ached with it.
"I remember the first time I saw that look in Gil's eyes." Jess’s gaze turned distant. "We were in the house inside my father's cave and I was cooking breakfast. Gil came over and offered to help. The way he looked at me as he stood there by the cookstove, I nearly melted into a puddle right there on the floor." A wistful smile curved her lips. “Like I was the only woman in the world, and he'd move heaven and earth just to be near me."
Jess’s eyes focused back on Grace. "When a Coulter man looks at you that way, you can be sure he's given you his whole heart. Don't doubt it for a second."
Could Sampson really feel that way about her? After all the trouble and heartache knowing her had brought him? It seemed too wonderful to be true. Too much to let herself hope for.
It was dangerous to dream of such things. Hadn't life taught her not to expect affection from a man?
The creak of the barn door made them both jump.
"That’s probably Clara coming to hurry us in for breakfast." Jess moved to the stall opening to look out.
But when she poked her head out, her face went bone white. Her eyes were huge as she whispered a single word.
"Papa.”