Chapter Thirty-Four
Grace brought her knees up and let her chin rest on top of them. She felt wrung-out and hollow, depleted down to her bones. Her father’s breaths were soft and shallow, but steady. He had awakened briefly and said, “Grace, my darling.”
She had squeezed his hand and smiled gently. A moment later, he was asleep again. Grace had held his hand until his fingers relaxed in her own.
His skin was pale and clammy, all his vibrancy stripped away by the bullet wound in his stomach.
Dr. Holloway had come by several times to check the wound, removing the used bandages and placing new ones over it, but there was still no improvement.
Grace had settled into a state of numbness; she no longer felt much at all.
It was as if she had abandoned her own body and was now a ghost lingering in the decaying remnants of her own life.
Ethan was right. She needed to eat and keep her strength up, but she couldn't find the will to do either. If she’d never left Lexington, this wouldn’t have happened.
She had been so foolish to think that whispers and rumors were distressing enough to drive her from her stable, peaceful life.
Grace reflexively rubbed her eyes, even though she’d long since run out of tears.
She had cried so much that her throat was ragged and raw, her chest left aching.
“Grace!” Ethan shouted, grasping the edge of the wagon and hauling himself up inside. “Grace!”
She blinked at him and slowly uncurled from her position. The urgency in his voice managed to cut through the haze of her thoughts.
“Ethan? What is it?”
He looked around, as if in anticipation of danger, and Grace’s eyes flitted to her father’s pale face. What could possibly be more dangerous than this? The worst had already happened.
“I think I might have an idea of what may have happened to Richard. I think some of the drifters, Bill and his lot, may have tried to steal your money. You need to check and see if it’s still in the wagon.”
Grace stared uncomprehendingly at him. “I don’t understand.”
“I think they might’ve been searching the wagon for the money.
Richard probably came back and startled them, and one of the men shot him, hoping to kill him.
That way, he wouldn’t be able to tell anyone what they were up to,” Ethan said, speaking rapidly.
“It’s only a possibility, Grace, but you need to check. ”
She shook her head. “How would they know about the money? I’ve only mentioned it to you.”
Ethan’s face fell. Something in his face or his body language changed, nearly imperceptible, but he seemed to grow very still.
“I told Derek, Ethan admitted. “And he just confessed to telling Bill and some of his men about the money.”
Grace’s eyes widened. The admission was like a knife to her chest. Heat rushed to her face, fury coursing through her. She didn’t even know who she was angrier at, herself for trusting Ethan, or Ethan for betraying her.
“Why…”
She turned away from him, unable to face Derek any longer, managing to stand and open the family Bible.
The small brass key they used to secure the money was tucked in the middle of the Book of Psalms. Grace took the key and, after moving her dresses and linens, found the chest where the money was kept.
She glanced over her shoulder, not exactly worried about Ethan but still… disappointed.
He wasn’t looking at her, though. His gaze had wandered to something outside the wagon.
Maybe he was trying to offer her some privacy.
Grace twisted the key in the lock and opened the chest. The full stacks of bills greeted her, including the bundle she’d wrapped in cloth-the money she’d planned on giving to Ethan once he’d delivered them safely to Oregon.
She locked the box, hid it again, and returned the key to the pages of the Book of Psalms. “It’s all still there,” she said quietly.
Ethan raised his hand, as if to reach out and touch her, but he seemed to catch himself. Instead, his hand remained in the air, fingers outstretched. “I’m sorry, Grace,” he said sadly.
“For what?” Her back was to him, as Grace wasn’t sure if she could look at Ethan right now without falling to pieces. “For telling Derek about the money? Or because doing so might have gotten my father shot?”
Guilt flashed in his eyes, and Ethan worked his jaw for a moment, no words emerging. “Both,” he finally rasped. “I am sorry for all of it, Grace. I want to make it better.”
She closed her eyes and clenched her jaw. Grace couldn’t calm the tempest brewing in her mind, but she forced herself to slow her breathing, wanting to appear as unruffled as possible.
Do you think Hannah will watch Emily for me? For a little longer?”
“I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”
“I need to think,” said Grace.
At last, she turned. A spark of pain pricked at her heart when she saw the regret in Ethan’s eyes. She climbed past him, out of the wagon, and began walking. He fell into step beside her.
“Alone,” Grace said through clenched teeth.
“It isn’t safe,” he argued, his brow furrowed with worry. “I know you’re upset, and I—I understand if you can’t trust me. Let me just—”
Grace whirled on him. “Because of you!” she snapped. “You caused this! You and Derek! I need to be left alone, and don’t you dare act like I can’t fend for myself!”
Ethan only stared at her. Grace was sure he couldn’t have looked more hurt if she’d physically struck him, but she was far past feeling guilt. All the pain and agony of the past several days sitting beside her wounded father rose within her like the sea, threatening to sweep her away with the tide.
“I know you are a capable woman,” Ethan said. “But have you considered that—”
“Yes!” she snapped, cutting him off before he could even finish. She didn’t care what Ethan might have to say, not in that moment. “Now, leave me alone!”
Grace stormed away from him, ducking behind a couple of wagons.
Her heart beat so loudly that it echoed inside her throbbing head.
Already, Grace felt overheated, and an unfamiliar weakness pulled at her limbs.
She hadn’t moved much at all since her father was hurt, and the hunger pangs in her stomach became more present as she kept moving.
Grace didn’t stop, though, even as her muscles cramped in protest and a stitch sliced through her side.
She wandered into the woods by the trail, drawing comfort from the wind that whispered through the trees and the sweet calls of the birds.
Her mind was a whirl, even more than it had been when Ethan said he loved her.
It was dangerous to wander alone, she knew that. However, the fury coursing through her was so powerful that Grace found it difficult to care about something as banal as her own safety. She would take just a moment to herself. Then she would return to Richard’s side.
Grace’s father was wounded and struggling to live, and Ethan had said that her father was hurt because of money.
The money they had tucked away and planned to start a new life with.
Grace would give away all that money gladly if it meant that she might have her father whole and hale again.
It was the most selfish and pathetic reason to try and kill a man.
If she had learned anything while traveling on the Bozeman Trail, it was that there was so much more to the world than money.
Grace was out of breath. She stopped and pressed her back against a tree, trying to steady herself with the rough bark beneath her hands.
Even if Ethan hadn’t meant to endanger her family, his actions had played a part in her father getting shot.
Grace tried to reconcile that reality with the man that she liked. Loved, even.
Rationally, she knew that Ethan hadn’t meant any harm.
He had only told his half-brother about the money.
His family. It wasn’t as if Derek was some stranger.
He should have been someone Ethan could share secrets with.
Besides, Derek was a good man, young and foolish, but he was also kind.
If Ethan had seen fit to confide in Derek, it must mean that they had been reconciling.
But her father had been hurt because of them, regardless.
Grace just kept circling back to that one thought.
She took a ragged breath and tipped her head back.
The sky was so very blue, embellished with only a few white clouds that drifted by lazily.
Grace thought she would like to be a cloud at that moment, a bit of fluff without a care in the world, just drifting along in that wide sea of blue.
Even drawing breath felt like too much effort at the moment.
A twig snapped, and Grace jumped. Her head jerked in the direction of the sound as three men approached her. At least two of them looked familiar. Grace’s mind raced as she tried to remember who the tall, brown-haired man was.
Bill Jones.
Grace’s heart leapt into her throat. Ethan’s unfinished warning rang in her ears. If these men really were after her father’s money, they might hurt her to get to it. Or worse.
Then again, Grace had faced down a frightening man before, maybe even more than her fair share. Grace straightened her spine and set her shoulders, playacting at a confident young woman who was overly formal, but had no idea there was anything amiss. The kind of woman they likely saw her as.
“Gentlemen,” she greeted them. “You are…you are far from camp.”
Bill grinned crookedly. “So are you. Grace, ain’t it?”
“Yes. Did Ethan send you? He mentioned that he would be following directly.” It was a lie, but the mention of Ethan’s imminent arrival might be enough to deter them. “I just needed a moment to myself. My father’s injury has been weighing heavily on me.”
“Of course.” Bill didn’t even try to seem sincere. “Women are such delicate things, especially a sheltered flower like you.”
A flare of indignation rose within her. Grace smothered it quickly and forced an awkward smile onto her face.
Running would be futile. These men would catch her in an instant.
She could not hope to fight them either.
Maybe she could best them with words, at least, convince them that she was more trouble than she was worth.
Bill stalked forward, the other two men flanking him. Grace took a tentative step back, fear like iron on her tongue. “I should return to camp. I will be missed.”
“Well, that’s just where we’re headed. Why don’t we take you there?”
Bill didn’t wait for an answer. He lunged forward and seized her arm in a bruising grip.
Grace yelled in pain and tried to pull back. “Let go!”
She slammed her fist against his chest and kicked wildly, striking his shin hard, but Bill pulled her forward with such force that she lost her balance. Grace stumbled, and one of the other men seized her other arm. She kicked futilely, twisting and struggling in their grasp.
“Ethan knows I’m here!” she exclaimed. “Amos and Derek, too! I told a lot of people where I was going. They’ll come looking for me!”
The third man laughed cruelly. He withdrew a long length of cloth from his pocket, and Grace struggled even harder. What did he intend to do with the cloth? Bind her limbs together? Strangle her?
Grace kicked at him, using the men’s grasp to aid her balance. The man with the cloth jumped back, snickering, before her feet could meet his stomach.
“Enough of that!” snapped Bill, twisting her arm behind her back.
Tears sprang to Grace’s eyes as pain shot all the way up her arm to her shoulder. She doubled over, trying to free herself as the other man pulled her arm in the opposite direction. Cloth obscured her vision as the third man forced it over her eyes and tied it behind her head.
“Don’t do this,” Grace pleaded. “You don’t need to do this. Just—just let me go. Let me go and leave. I won’t tell anyone if you just let me go!”
Bill hauled her up, and Grace kicked and twisted in his grasp, but he had a strong hold on her. Another man wrapped an arm around her legs, and suddenly her feet left the ground. She was being carried!
Grace screamed and writhed, but the men only laughed. Her heart thundered against her ribcage. Panic threatened to overwhelm her, and the lack of sight left her feeling unmoored, like a piece of driftwood caught by an overwhelming current in the ocean. She had to think, and quick.
But the men were so strong. Grace still tried her best to escape despite the grim outlook, kicking and writhing in their grasp.
“Stubborn thing, ain’t she?” asked one of the men, sounding a little winded.
Grace suddenly had an idea. Maybe she could leave something behind, something for Ethan to follow, so he’d know what happened to her. Grace rubbed her foot against her ankle while trying to make it look like part of her struggle, attempting to force one of her boots off.
If Ethan saw it, he’d know that something had happened to her and maybe—just maybe—he’d save her.
But what if he doesn’t?
Emily’s worried face flashed like lightning through her mind, and cold dread filled Grace’s veins. Somehow, she had to live. For Emily, she had to survive.