Chapter 3
Josiah pressed against his horse’s neck, measuring for a place they could seek shelter from the storm. He’d fallen farther behind the wagon train than he would have liked, and the storm had started suddenly. It still wasn’t dark, and he’d mistakenly believed that he would find shelter soon.
He’d followed the wagon train that morning, making plans for where the wagon might be. Ransom had sent a messenger to check with him, and he’d sent a reminder back to his brother about their deal. He needed a lot more time to have the information Ransom needed.
Josiah hadn't expected the storm, though. Rain wasn't supposed to start just yet, but that was how it was on the trail sometimes, unpredictable. Cold saturated him, making him shiver.
He hated the cold, and he missed the comforts of a real home, or a cabin, like the one he’d grown up in, before his world fell apart.
Sadness rushed through him as he turned another corner. Soon, he was going to have to stop riding, hunker down under a tree, and forget tracking down the perfect shelter or catching sight of the wagon train.
Another crack of lightning split the sky, touching down not too far from where he was riding. Josiah pulled the reins tighter, but it made no difference. His horse reared, pawing the air in desperation before taking off into a gallop, heading into the sheets of rain with abandon.
“Whoa, girl, slow down!” Josiah screamed at the horse over the storm, but his voice was lost in the roar of the elements. “Silver, whoa!” His horse didn’t seem to care that he was calling her name.
Branches slapped his arms and cheeks, and rain pelted his skin. The roar deafened his ears, and Silver ran full on ahead, not caring about the consequences.
Josiah had named her Silver, the color of a silver streak on her right shoulder. It was an odd appearance on a horse, and it was what made Josiah like the rather temperamental mare in the first place.
She was unbothered by Josiah's pleas and, if anything, galloped harder in the storm, as if she would be able to outrun the rain, then the hail as it began to fall.
Josiah grimaced as large chunks of ice pelted his back and his head. He wrapped himself around Silver’s neck, hoping to protect her from some of it, but it did little good.
Silver’s panic multiplied as she felt the pain of the ice and the storm, swirling around them. He tugged at her reins, trying to gain control of the situation.
He should have been more careful, found a safe place to stop before the storm started, but he’d fallen too far behind the wagon train in his efforts to stay hidden.
All he could do was get through the storm and hope he could find them again when the sky cleared. A clump of trees up ahead caught his eye. It wasn’t perfect, but perhaps it would shelter them from the storm for a little while, enough for the rain to be over.
He pressed his heels into Silver’s side and urged her a little to the left, heading straight for the trees. Once they were no longer getting hit by the falling hail, he hoped he could calm her down.
Another lightning bolt fell, lighting up the night around them. Static crackled around him and made every hair on his body stand on end, as if he could feel the lightning connecting with the earth.
Silver screamed and jerked, diving forward, and the momentum was too much.
Josiah flew through the air as Silver ran with fresh energy.
He was aware of himself, pelting toward the ground like a rock someone had thrown.
So many thoughts raced through his head in a split second, as if he were watching his life slip by.
He remembered Ransom as a child, all his hopes and dreams before his life had fallen apart, and red hair, blowing in the wind. The last image filled his thoughts right before he hit the earth.
When his body slammed into the ground, a rock connected with his head. A sickening crash slipped through him as the world went dark. Pain burned every nerve of his body.
Maybe that was what dying felt like. The rain continued to fall. Little splashes on his cheeks, eyelids, and forehead reminded him with unhappy persistence of what a lousy situation he was in.
He had to find a way to get up, to search for Silver, and the wagon train. Perhaps his misfortune was because of what he’d allowed himself to get wrapped up in. God wouldn’t be happy with his behavior. He knew that, even without being in a church for years.
Time stretched thin, and Josiah couldn’t seem to focus on how long it had been.
Josiah blinked slowly. How long had passed since Silver ran? He wasn’t sure. He pulled himself to his feet. The rain continued to fall in heavy drops that sank deeper into his clothes. It was still dark, and he had to strain his eyes to see.
He had no lamp or any way to find his way. He pulled off his jacket. It was doing him no good. He let it drop to the ground. Everything he had, including his pistols, was in the packs on Silver’s back. He’d put them in there to protect them from the rain when the storm started.
Everything from the little Bible that he'd cherished from his mother to the pocketknife from his brother, and the watch from his father, had been lost with Silver.
She would be out there somewhere, wandering around, or maybe she'd get back to Ransom.
He swallowed hard as he took a few steps forward.
He couldn't see anything, even from the moon that was hidden by the clouds.
He reached up to his head. He was bleeding. He could tell by the slippery feeling of the wetness across his forehead. He had to find help or get back to Ransom. He’d known what to do.
Where was that? The location he was supposed to know seemed fuzzy and far away. That was strange. He was probably just shaken up from his fall. He’d think about it and remember later.
He took another step ahead, and his foot found nothing to hold on to. His body pitched forward, and the feeling of falling surrounded him. His body hit rocks and sticks on the way down.
He reached frantically, searching for something to hang on to, but his fingers connected with air every time.
Somewhere in his mind, he remembered a cliff he’d passed earlier that day, a steep embankment.
As he rolled, he separated from the pain, what was left of his consciousness floating to another place and time, to images of him and Ransom playing ball in a yard.
Laughter and smiles, and a mother who took him to church. It felt so far away, as if he were imagining it all. Maybe it never really happened.
Josiah wanted to fight, to stand up, to figure out what was wrong. But he couldn't stop himself from falling, always falling.
When the world stopped moving, he wasn't sure if he’d really stopped, or if he was simply imagining what he wished would happen. He couldn't see anything, even when he pried his eyes open. It was just as dark with his eyes open as it was with them closed.
All he knew was pain.
Josiah was dying, and somehow, that didn't seem so bad.
---*---
The pounding in his head made his skull ache.
Where am I?
Blinking felt impossible, and his eyelids refused to listen to the command.
“You think he’s dead?” A voice asked.
“You think he’s dead?” Another voice said.
“Could be. Where did he come from? Did you see any horse or anything else near here?”
“No. Checked everywhere I could. There’s no real path either, not even at the top of the embankment.”
“Guess we should take him back to the wagon if he’s alive.”
The young man tried again to open his eyes, to tell the others that he was indeed alive and needed help. But despite his best efforts, he couldn’t manage it. He was aware of the voice coming closer and someone pressing their hand against his neck.
“Seems to be breathing, and I think I feel a heartbeat. Theda could probably check on him, help him wake up, and find some answers.”
“You sure we should take him back to the wagon train? He could be dangerous, Phineas.”
“That’s why we should talk to him, figure out where he’s from.” The man named Phineas was tugging at his arms as he finally managed to blink his eyes open. The sunlight was harsh, practically burning him.
“Whoa, you awake?” Phineas asked. His voice was kind and sounded like someone he could trust. “What’s your name?”
The young man frowned. Name, he did have a name, but what was it? It felt like he should know what it was, and when he started thinking about it, he could almost envision it, how it would sound, rolling off his tongue. But nothing came.
He shook his head.
“I…don’t know,” he rasped.
“Okay. Let’s get you back to camp.”
He opened his mouth to ask what they wanted with him, how they’d found him, and if they knew him, or had seen him before. But he closed his mouth. It all felt like too much effort.
He grimaced against the pain as he was lifted and put over the back of a horse. Every step the animal made, he winced. When the movement finally stopped, he nearly laughed with relief.
He was helped from the horse and carried away. He didn't have the energy to open his eyes and see his surroundings. He gave up, letting them do what they would with him. They laid him down, then Phineas spoke.
"Theda, there you are. Found this guy in the woods, at the bottom of an embankment. It could be someone dangerous. He claims he doesn't know what happened."
“Could be a possibility. He has a lot of blood in his hair. I’ll take a look at him.” The voice was soft, sweet, like a gentle song. It made him want to look. He pulled all his effort together and forced his eyelids open again. She was standing above him.
He drew in a painful breath. Little wisps of red hair framed her face in delicate curls. Her green eyes looked down at him, full of warmth and curiosity. Her pink lips curved into a smile, and soft, delicate skin touched his cheek as she placed her palm on his face.
“You’re waking up. It’s all right. You look really hurt, but we’re going to figure out how to help. Do you have a name?”
The young man shook his head. He didn’t care what his name was or who he was. He just knew that he liked looking at the young woman’s face, her eyes, as if he were in a trance.
“Theda? I’ll be right here. I’m not leaving you alone with him till I know he’s not dangerous.”
“All right,” Theda spoke, her tone the same soft lull as before. “I don’t think he’s dangerous, though. I think he’s hurt, and he really needs our help.”
The young man couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. It felt as if he were being tugged away from reality, away from her, and no matter how he fought, he couldn’t stop it. He let his eyes shut, and he was carried off into darkness once more.