Chapter Seven
So much for drying the laundry, Grace thought.
To Grace, it seemed as if the sky had been flawless one minute, then gray and ominous a heartbeat later.
Thunder roared overhead, and rain fell in sheets so heavy the rain appeared white.
Harsh, fat drops quickly coated Grace’s hair and face as she ran to the hill where Emily had been playing.
She could hear Emily cry out in fear as lightning streaked across the sky.
She had always been afraid of storms, even when she was safe inside Father’s house where the elements could not possibly hurt her.
Out in the open plains, she had to be terrified.
Grace scooped her daughter into her arms and Emily buried her face into Grace’s shoulder as she ran for cover.
The rain fell so harshly that Grace was nearly blinded by it.
Already, water began to soak the inside of her boots, and her hair stuck to her face as she searched for their wagon in the midst of the lashing rain blurring everything into indistinct shapes.
“Grace!” Ethan’s shout cut through the sound of the pounding rain.
He waved at her from his wagon. Grace’s first thought was to ignore him, but Emily was sobbing against Grace’s chest. She had no choice but to accept his offer.
Grace hurried to Ethan, who moved further into the wagon. The rain fell hard against the canvas cover, but inside the wagon was warm and dry. Grace hauled herself in, Emily still clinging to her.
“It’s too loud!” Emily shouted, covering her ears with her hands.
“I know,” Grace said, wrapping her arms around Emily and drawing her close. “But I promise we’re safe in here with Mr. Walker.”
She looked at him then. Ethan had seemingly escaped the worst of the rain; as far as she could tell, the man was entirely dry. He seemed to have the best luck in the world.
“Did you see Hannah?” Ethan asked.
Grace shook her head. “I know she went to hang the laundry earlier.”
Ethan snorted. “A lot of good that will do!”
Despite her personal dislike of him, Grace couldn’t help but smile. She shared the sentiment. With a twinge of guilt, she noticed for the first time that the wooden floor of the wagon was now covered with little puddles of water because of her.
Despite the cold rain, it was actually beginning to feel a little stifling in the wagon. Ethan sat near enough for her to touch him. She shivered, but not just from the cold.
“I hope she managed to find somewhere dry,” Grace said.
“So do I.”
Emily sniffled, and Grace tightened her embrace around her little girl. “You’re fine, sweetheart. I promise everything is fine.”
“It will pass soon,” Ethan said. “These storms come without warning, but they’re gone just as quick.”
“But it’s scary!” Emily wailed.
“I know,” Ethan said, his expression softening. “But your sister will take good care of you. You’re perfectly safe in this wagon. I promise.”
Emily turned her head to look at him.
“But how can you be sure?” Her voice was so soft that Grace could barely hear her above the roar of the wind and the rain.
“Because I have a little sister, too,” Ethan said. “And I would do anything to keep her safe. I always have.”
Grace stroked Emily’s hair, gently parting the wet strands. “He’s right, Emily. I’ll protect you from anything.”
Emily shook her head and turned her face back to Grace’s shoulder.
Grace shifted her weight so she was sitting more comfortably and rocked her daughter gently, as best as she could in the small space.
Ethan took out a knife and a chunk of wood, whittling calmly as though there wasn’t a massive storm swirling around them.
Slowly, the discomfort curling in Grace’s chest began to fade.
Back in Lexington, she would have never found herself in a situation like this.
A proper gentleman would have taken shelter elsewhere and let her have the wagon alone with Emily.
Otherwise, the folks in Lexington would gossip mercilessly.
Yet Grace found a strange freedom sitting here alone with Ethan Walker.
Maybe it was the storm raging outside the warmth and safety of the wagon. Or maybe it was that she had become accustomed to being judged. Grace did not want to be seen as incompetent, but everything else somehow mattered less out here
“I heard a story once about thunderstorms being…” Ethan trailed off. “I can’t remember it.”
Grace nodded, as though that meant something to her, then paused, thinking.
This was the most amicable moment she’d shared with Ethan so far.
He hadn’t even said anything especially condescending.
She would have expected at least one snide remark about how foolish she’d been to let herself get caught in the rain by now.
“Do you like to read?” she asked, trying to continue the thread of their conversation.
Ethan shook his head. “Naw. I haven’t read since I was in school.”
“Was that where you heard the story? I’m trying to figure out if it might be something well-known,” Grace mused, mentally working through every story she had ever read.
“I really can’t remember. Maybe Hannah would know,” Ethan said. “She always had a head for things like that.”
Grace frowned. There was a strange undercurrent in Ethan’s voice that she didn’t quite understand. It wasn’t sad, not exactly, but Grace suspected she wasn’t receiving the full story.
Grace shifted Emily in her lap. Although the girl still clung to Grace, she had calmed a little. Her tears had ceased, and her body was no longer wracked with shivers.
“Thank you,” Grace said. “For letting me and Emily stay in your wagon.”
“You don’t need to thank me. What kind of man would leave a woman and a little girl out in the rain?”
“Not a good one,” replied Grace. A lump grew in her throat. She didn’t tell Ethan that she knew all about bad men, far more than any woman ought to.
***
The storm had abated. That was the first thing Grace noticed when she startled awake later that night. She blinked, letting her eyes adjust to the dim light of the wagon. No, not the wagon. Ethan’s wagon. Grace sighed, carefully uncurling from her place on the wooden floor.
Her mind, still dazed from sleep, felt sluggish. She remembered Ethan whittling, Hannah announcing that she was staying with Derek to keep him company, and Emily curled up beside her—
Emily. Her daughter’s name echoed like a thunderclap inside her mind.
Emily was gone.
“Emily!” she shouted. “Emily!”
Grace crawled on her hands and knees, hurrying out of the wagon. She burst from the wagon and looked frantically into the night, her eyes sweeping over the canvas tops and dozing horses. It was late, and only a few fires from the night watch flickered on the flat landscape.
“Emily!” she exclaimed. “Emily!”
Grace stumbled down from the wagon and ran, frantically peering into and under each wagon she passed. Her heart hammered so hard against her ribs that her chest ached. She could not have lost Emily. Her daughter had to be safe. She just had to be.
A small part of her knew that it was late, and that the rest of the wagon train was sleeping soundly. Grace shouldn’t wake them, but it was hard to care about something as inconsequential as others’ peaceful sleep when Emily was gone.
Where was she?
Grace tore through the wagon train in a fury, her muscles taut and her body hot.
Grace’s mind whirled, her entire world narrowing to just her daughter.
What if something had happened to her? What if Emily had run away to explore and fallen into a hole, or gotten lost, or fallen into a river?
What if she had been trampled by one of the horses?
Grace had gone on the trail to provide a better future for Emily, and if something had happened to her—
If something had happened to Emily, nothing mattered anymore. Had she really lost her child? Had she failed at the one thing a mother should be able to do—keeping her daughter safe?
A dark figure approached her. Grace froze, a lump forming inside her throat. It took her a moment to recognize the shadowy figure as Ethan.
“What are you doing, Grace?” he asked.
“Emily,” she gasped. “I can’t find her. Do you know where she is?”
“I left her with you,” he said. “You were both sleeping soundly. I’m on watch tonight, but I haven’t seen her.”
Grace had reached the end of the wagon train, and still there was no sign of Emily. Where could the child possibly be?
Ethan easily matched her pace as Grace continued her desperate search. “She must be nearby,” he said. “Emily is a smart girl and would know not to wander far.”
How could he possibly know that? What a ridiculous thing to assume! He barely knew her daughter at all. Grace’s eyes burned, but she forced back the threatening tears.
“Children don’t just wander on a whim,” Ethan said.
Grace barked out cold laughter. “Of course they do!”
She charged up the hill, her eyes sweeping over everything she could see in the distance.
It was impossible to make out much at night, and her stomach lurched.
Grace thought she might be ill. She could not search every inch of the West for Emily.
Grace ran her hands through her hair while panic clawed at her chest, as sharp as ice. What could she do?
“No,” Ethan said, his voice so calm that it made her want to scream. “When children leave unexpectedly, they are most likely to go places where they’ve been before. That’s where you should check first. I doubt that Emily decided to run off in an unknown direction in the middle of the night.”
Grace forced down the lump that rose in her throat. As reasonable as Ethan sounded, she wasn’t sure that was true. His suggestion gave her a place to start, though, if nothing else.
“The only place we’ve gone since stopping here is the stream,” Grace said.
“Then we should start there,” Ethan replied.
He led the way down to the river. The moonlight lent the water a silvery glow, the water twinkling like freshly-shined bells. Grace took a deep breath, trying to stay calm as she picked her way carefully along the rocky bank.
“I’ll go upstream,” Ethan offered.
“Thank you,” Grace said, not sparing him a look. She hurried over the bank, rocks slipping beneath her shoes. “Emily?”
A child’s laugh split the air.
Grace broke into a run, stumbling in her haste to cover the distance. “Emily!”
Soon, the small, dark shape of her daughter came into view. Relief crashed into Grace, so fierce that she nearly stopped breathing. And then—
One second, her daughter stood before her on the rocky bank. The next, Emily was gone. Her scream shattered the air and sent Grace’s thoughts twisting in a hundred different directions.
“Emily!”
“Help!”
Her daughter floundered in the water, her limbs thrashing. There was no time to think. Emily had fallen into the stream, and she couldn’t swim. Grace jumped in after her, her skirts ballooning around her. She kicked as hard as she could, sodden fabric tangling around her legs.
“Emily!”
Grace struggled desperately against the current, ice filling her veins as the stream pulled her down.
Suddenly, the water was over her head. She gasped, startled, and water filled her nose and mouth.
Grace kicked again, and her leg struck something hard.
Pain jolted up and down her calf. She pushed hard off whatever it was and broke the surface of the water.
Grace gulped in air, greedily filling her lungs.
“Emily!”
“Mama!” Emily cried.
Where was she? Grace twisted about, struggling to keep herself from being dragged down. She couldn’t swim either, and the water was so much deeper than she had expected.
“I’m coming!” Ethan called.
Emily suddenly bobbed into Grace’s view, her little face barely above water as she floated toward Grace.
“My darling!”
Grace managed to grasp her daughter’s arm and pull her close. Emily wrapped her arms around Grace’s neck, clinging to her as the water dragged them farther downstream. A rock struck Grace’s hip, and she hissed in pain.
“Grace!”
A splash sounded near her, and strong arms suddenly seized her. Grace’s chest hurt, and her mind was muddled and confused.
Ethan. Ethan was there.
He pulled at her and Grace went along without resistance, limp except for her grasp on Emily.
“I need you to kick, Grace!” Ethan said. “Come on!”
She tried, her legs pumping despite the restraints made by her own soaked skirts.
Emily cried, her tears hot against Grace’s neck.
The current pushed against Grace’s body, trying to drag her down again, but Ethan kept them all afloat.
At last, her boots found purchase on the rocky bottom.
Ethan released her and clambered onto the bank, then turned around to help her out.
Grace stumbled onto the bank with Emily still holding tightly to her neck, all of them now soaked to the bone.
Once she was on the bank, Grace’s chest burned as she sucked in more air, her body shaking from the cold of the night air and the icy water.
“Are you all right?” Grace asked, rubbing Emily’s back. When her daughter didn’t answer, panic seized her. “Emily? Emily, you—are you all right?”
Emily began to wail again, and relief washed over Grace. Her daughter was alive. Terrified, but alive. Grace silently repeated the word over and over inside her mind, as if she still could not quite believe it.
Alive, alive, alive.
“I’m sorry,” Emily whimpered.
Grace didn’t answer. Instead, she pulled her daughter into a tight embrace and clung to her with all her might.
“You should keep a closer eye on her,” Ethan said.
Grace forced down the lump that rose in her throat. She looked to him, searching his face for any sign of empathy, but it was already too late. Ethan had turned away and started trudging back toward the wagon train.
Grace watched him go, relief at being safe on solid ground warring with the sharp pain of his chastisement. He hadn’t even offered to see them back to the wagon.
“Is he mad at me?” Emily asked, her voice very small.
“No,” Grace said. “That isn’t it. Sometimes, adults are just—just a little angry when they’re scared.”
“Is he mad at you, Mama?”
Mama. Emily had called her that when she was in the river, too. Grace swallowed harshly. Had Ethan heard it? Did he know that she was a liar, and, perhaps more pertinently, did that change what he thought of her?
Grace shook her head. It didn’t matter what the man thought of her. All she truly cared about was Emily, who was once more safe in her arms.