A Family Found (18 page)

“Yes.”

“But you wouldn't have brought me here, would you?”

Sophie saw the struggle pass over Tate's face. “Possibly not.”

“So I had to come by myself, but I should've told somebody. Marcus, maybe.”

Sophie watched then as Tate gathered the boy into his arms. “I forgive you, son. And now that you understand that your action caused others concern, it's time to forgive yourself.”

“And God'll forgive me, too?”

“Most assuredly,” Sophie said. “Just like your own father, God is mighty partial to little children, especially ones named Toby.”

“Really?” He took his papa's face in his hands. “See, I'm special.”

“Indeed you are.” The tremor in Tate's voice betrayed him. He stood the boy up. “Why don't you go play with Beauty and Buster while I talk with Miss Sophie?”

The boy started down the porch steps, then turned to Sophie. “And Joseph had a coat of many colors, too. I'd like one, I think.” Then he ran to play with the dogs.

Tate released an audible sigh.

“What happened?” Sophie asked.

Tate resumed his seat in the rocker and told her about Toby's burning need to see her in order to finish the Joseph story. Then he rested his head on the back of the chair and closed his eyes momentarily. “I was panicked,” he admitted. “What if something had happened to him?”

“What-ifs aren't nearly as productive as ‘what is.' The fact is that your son is safe, he has told me the story and he knows you love him and forgive him. It was wise of you to bring him here and let the day play out for him.” She hesitated, knowing how deeply she trusted what she was about to say. “Tate, you are a very fine father.”

“I'm trying.” He leaned forward, hands dangling between his knees, watching his son and the dogs. “You've been good for them, Sophie.”

“I hope so.” In this moment she wanted nothing more than to kneel before him, hold his hands and offer him reassurance. He had obviously been terror-stricken when he'd discovered Toby was missing. “But it will not do for them to become dependent on me.”
Nor for me to need them so—all of them.

“It may be too late for that.” He gulped down his water, handed her the cup and rose to his feet. She stood, too, and for a long moment they looked at one another as if attempting to convey with a glance what neither was ready to say. “Will I see you again before your climb?”

“Most assuredly. Tomorrow and Wednesday I will come for lessons.”

“Sophie, there's something I must say to you.”

She waited, breathlessly.

“No matter whether you decide to come live with us this winter and continue teaching the boys, you have been a godsend.” He chuckled wryly, apparently at his use of
God
. “See what you've done? I've even uttered a prayer or two lately.”

“Don't thank me. Thank God.”

“Marcus, Toby and I are planning to be at the trailhead when you return from your successful ascent of Longs.” He tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “We're rooting for you, Sophie, and we always will.”

With that he called to Toby, but before leaving the porch, he cupped her cheek in his warm hand. “Be safe.” He kissed the top of her head and added, “I will be praying for you.”

Long after the two had ridden toward the ranch, Sophie stood on the porch, gazing into the distance. With those few words, Tate had just made her decision about where to winter that much more complicated.

* * *

As a final test, on Tuesday Belle and Sophie made one last conditioning hike, which included both a steep, rocky ascent and a precarious, narrow passage over a ridge. Along the trail they reviewed their necessary supplies and equipment in light of possible weather contingencies on Longs and agreed to wear britches under their shorter riding dresses to facilitate the rock climbing involved. “Just one more thing to annoy our detractors,” Belle noted.

“Not to mention the gentlemen—and I use that term lightly—of the press.”

“I can hardly bear their smug assumption that we will fail. Joe thinks they might even try to sabotage us. Especially if others in the hiking party bandy the dates around.”

“It's not as if we're the first women to climb that peak.”

“True, but there have been less than a handful,” Belle pointed out, “and as Joe says, never a pair of attractive young females who have the potential to put men to shame.”

“And the will,” Sophie added.

Unexpectedly, Belle giggled. “Oh, to see the looks on their incredulous faces when we succeed.”

Sophie smiled. “I have the banner ready.”

“Despite those who are shocked by our effrontery in attempting to summit, we also have friends like Martha and Dolly Tyler who will be cheering us on. What about Tate and the boys?”

“They're excited for us, although I sense hesitation in Tate, primarily I think because of his concern for the boys in the event we encounter difficulty.”

Belle sobered. “We can be under no illusions. This is a daunting and perhaps perilous endeavor upon which we're embarking. Now is the time for any second thoughts.”

Sophie waited several minutes before replying, and in that time, she faced the factors arguing against her participation: the possibility of getting injured or even going to her death and the impact that would have on those she loved; the question of whether her own need to prove something was overpowering her reason; and whether in the deepest part of her being she somehow unaccountably hoped to find Charlie on Longs Peak.

“Sophie?”

The moment of truth had arrived. “I'm ready. No turning back.”

“All right, then. We'll ride to Wild Bill's Thursday morning, and he'll guide us to the timberline where we'll camp overnight.”

“And then on Friday?” Sophie could hardly contain her enthusiasm. “We'll show them all!”

* * *

Tate prowled around his office Wednesday like a caged tiger. Tomorrow Sophie and Belle would head up the mountain to the timberline camp. If he could stop time, he would. Terrifying eventualities plagued his thoughts—an icy trail, unstable footing, bone-chilling cold, howling winds and, worst of all, the threat of avalanche or rock slide. What if Sophie fell and sprained an ankle or broke a leg or wrist. Or, worse yet... He threw up his hands. He wasn't accustomed to lacking control.

Earlier this morning he'd tried to go sit close while she worked with the boys, but he couldn't stand being in such proximity, knowing it wasn't his place to beg her to reconsider the climb. Nor could he listen to the boys' excited questions concerning the day's lesson: the history of mountaineering. Why was she so determined to do this perilous thing?

He stopped at the window and glared at the mountains, silently cursing them. They had a hold on her that seemed to feed her and, at the same time, challenge her. And considering what he knew of Sophie, she would never back away from a challenge. But did she have any realistic idea what she was undertaking to do?

He pounded a fist into the wall. Of course she did, and his typically masculine, patronizing attitude was not helpful. Much as the prospect of the attempted ascent terrified him, he also knew she and Belle had prepared carefully and that Bill was a seasoned and conscientious guide. Her adventuresome spirit was an important part of what he loved about her. Her bravery coupled with her compassion was difficult to resist, and he no longer wanted to.

He turned away from the window and plucked his watch from his vest pocket. Nearly noon. No, she didn't need more cautionary words or judgment. She needed his heartfelt support, and he wanted to give it to her without reservation. He swiped a hand through his hair, squared his shoulders and left the room to find her.

* * *

“We'll be waiting for you at the bottom of the trail,” Toby assured her as she put away the maps.

Marcus closed and shelved his book. “We are quite proud of you, Miss Sophie. You are doing something remarkable.”

“I'm gonna do it, too, when I'm older,” Toby boasted.

Sophie gathered the boys to her. “Your encouragement means a great deal to me. I shall think of you as I climb, knowing that you are urging me on.”

Toby interrupted. “And praying for you, too.”

Sophie looked from one to the other, undone by the trust in their eyes. “Your prayers will be the best gift you can give me.”

“I don't think Papa will mind. About the prayers,” Toby said.

Marcus spoke quietly. “You know what, Miss Sophie? I think God has His hand on Papa.”

Sophie swallowed, steeling herself not to cry. “We can certainly hope so. Your papa is very special.”

Almost as if their thoughts had summoned him, Tate entered the room. “Am I interrupting?”

“No, Papa. We were just telling Miss Sophie how we'll be praying for her success.”

Sophie glanced at Tate to see how he would react to Marcus's bold remark. With disapproval? Censure?

“I'm sure she will appreciate your efforts,” was all he said.

“I am most appreciative of your support and will look forward to seeing you at the end.”

“You will reach the summit, Miss Sophie. I just know it,” Marcus said with conviction.

Toby nodded. “And none of those ‘brazen snoopers' can stop you.”

Tate moved closer, one hand resting on Toby's head. “We won't let any of those cads anywhere near Miss Sophie or Miss Belle. Now, then, go on and wash up for dinner.”

The boys each hugged Sophie and wished her good luck and then left to do as their father had bid.

Sophie had already told Bertie she would not be eating with them in the interest of getting back to the cabin in time to pack up for the next day. This, then, was farewell, one fraught with an elusive significance. She stepped away from Tate and put the last pencils away. “I guess this is goodbye for now. The next time I see you I will have completed my goal, with God's help.”

“If sheer determination is a factor, I have no doubt of your success.”

“Thank you.”

“May I walk you out?”

“I'd like that.”

Outside the skies were a cloudless blue, and aspen trees speckled the green mountainsides with blazes of pure gold. Sophie took a deep breath of the refreshing mountain air, wondering for the first time if she wouldn't be wiser to enjoy Longs Peak from a safe distance. Then she mentally shook her head. No. It wouldn't be the same.

They were nearly to the spot where Ranger was tethered before Tate finally spoke. “Joe, the others and I will be doing all we can to keep those who wish you ill at bay. You and Belle deserve a fair shot at this feat.”

“We appreciate your efforts.” She wanted to say more, but the words stuck in her throat.

“There is something I need to tell you.” He stopped walking and faced her, blocking her progress. “Sophie, you are aware at times that I have doubted you and questioned what I perceived as your rash behavior. Yet you have never done anything but be open and honest with me, and even cheerful in the light of my churlishness.”

Sophie couldn't look away. He was obviously speaking with difficulty from his heart. He was a good man who had suffered much, but in him she saw such a capacity for love. She tried for a smile. “You are better and better with the boys.”

“And with you?”

She laid a hand on his cheek. “Yes.”

He took that hand in his and with his other arm, he pulled her close.

“Sophie, you are a rare and fascinating woman, and although you may sometimes lack good sense, you greet every day with joy. I'm trying to do that, even though my life hasn't always led me to that conclusion. Like your Charlie, I would like to be a man worthy of you.” He released her and strolled on. “Maybe someday.”

She was dumbfounded. What was he saying?
Like your Charlie?
Was that an obstacle between them? She knew it was for her, but for him, as well? She stared into the distance where Longs Peak dominated the horizon. Could she find answers there to the many questions that stood between her and her future? She hoped so.

She untied Ranger's reins and hesitated before mounting, searching Tate's face. How might her burning need to scale a mountain peak affect their relationship? And then to her immense relief, she received an answer.

He pulled her into a fierce embrace that seemed to go on forever before kissing her forehead and whispering, “Go with God, my dearest Sophie.”

Before she could react, he wheeled and walked toward the house without a backward glance, leaving her with much to ponder.

Chapter Fifteen

T
hursday morning before departing for Belle's, Sophie dampened the coals in the woodstove, glanced once more around the now familiar and beloved cabin and then stood quietly for a moment, her hand resting on her Bible. She remembered vividly the lines that had been the inspiration for her Colorado journey: “I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help.” These “hills” had not failed her. She had found peace in the solitude, friendships for the making and two young boys who had given her purpose. In a way, tomorrow's journey to the top of the world would be more one of homage than challenge. Uttering a soft prayer of thanksgiving, she shouldered her knapsack and left the cabin, knowing that regardless of what happened on Longs Peak, she would return a different person than she was today.

Beauty followed her to the Harpers', where she would remain until Sophie's return. Belle was ready when Sophie arrived, but pointed at the road beyond the barn where Joe was gesturing emphatically to two men, one of whom was Rupert Stowe, the pushy reporter. “They showed up about ten minutes ago, insisting on interviewing us. They've gotten wind of the timing of our Longs Peak adventure from some other hiker in our party.”

“I suppose short of hog-tying them, all Joe can do is delay them.”

“They won't get far before others come to help Joe fend them off. He and Tate have planned for this eventuality.”

In the distance, Sophie spotted Jackson and John Tyler riding toward them. “Reinforcements are already on their way. Even if the newsmen follow us all the way to Bill's, I doubt they could keep up with us on the mountain.”

“It might be fun to see them try,” Belle hooted as she mounted her horse. “Shall we leave them with a word?”

Sophie grinned. “By all means.”

The two rode up to Joe and the reporters, just as the Tylers joined the group. “Good morning, gentlemen,” Belle said, edging her mount uncomfortably close to the interlopers, who were then forced to back up a step.

“Do you want to be the first with the big story?” Sophie asked, staring down at them.

“Look at you! You're a disgrace in those britches. You'll get your comeuppance. Wait and see,” Stowe snarled.

“No, you wait and see,” Belle said. “We're going to make history, and you can either celebrate us or paint yourselves as bigots.”

“Unless of course you'd like to try coming with us,” Sophie added with a mischievous grin.

Jackson intervened. “Never you mind, girls. These greenhorns don't know who they're dealing with here. Two mighty women who can run rings around them.” He doffed his hat. “Good luck to you.”

As the women trotted away, they could hear the argument erupting again as their defenders surrounded the two troublemakers.

“I could hardly eat this morning, I was so excited,” Sophie admitted.

“But you did, of course?”

“Of course. Fuel for the journey.” Sophie knew it was important to keep her emotions under control, but as she observed the passing scenery, dominated by the peak that drew her like a magnet, she was filled not only with purpose, but with an excitement unlike any she had ever known. She and Belle were really going to attempt this thing!

At midday they arrived at Wild Bill's cabin by the trailhead and joined the rest of the hikers attempting the ascent, which included two citified-looking men, a portly mining executive from Colorado Springs named Longwood Baker, a rancher from the eastern part of the state, the same obnoxious Englishman they'd met on the trail earlier in the summer and a handsome outdoorsy-looking man who had the courtesy to greet them warmly as opposed to the others, who made a show of ignoring them. Wild Bill gathered them all before they set off on horseback to reach the boulder field camp by nightfall. “Here're the rules. Do exactly what I say. Step where I tell you to step. If you tire and can't go on, speak up. Nothin' worse than folks underestimating this mountain. I don't wanna be dragging anybody up or down. You're all under your own steam, gentlemen.” He paused, recognizing his oversight. “And ladies.”

The rancher let his eyes roam over Belle and Sophie. “Not much worry about you two goin' beyond the boulder field.”

“If there,” the mining executive chortled.

“I say. Unprecedented, the nerve of these women,” the Englishman snorted.

The outdoorsman spoke for the first time. “The proof will be in the pudding, gentlemen. I, for one, am willing to wait and see what these two fine women are capable of.”

Sophie nodded in appreciation just as Bill gave the order to move out. She and Belle had known they would be joining others in their summit attempt and had fully expected the kind of scorn to which they were being subjected. It had been a pleasant surprise to learn that at least one of their fellow climbers had a streak of fairness. Belle and Sophie stayed near the end of the line as it wound its way upward through the forest and among the rocks looming on either side of the path Bill was blazing for them. Although the morning had been clear, clouds rolled in about three, followed by a brief downpour. The women had donned their rain ponchos in preparation, unlike some of the men who preferred to expose themselves to the elements. “I hope they're not always so stupid,” Belle muttered. Other than Bill and possibly the man who had spoken up for them, Sophie had little confidence in their fellow mountaineers. Anyone could ride a horse to the timberline. Tomorrow would be a different challenge. She couldn't wait.

* * *

By the time Tate got to the Harpers', the immediate threat from the reporters had passed. Except for one thing. Joe handed Tate the latest Denver paper without comment. On the front page below the fold a headline read Female Folly to Hamper Longs Peak Party. Tate fumed as he read on.

The Misses Belle Harper and Sophie Montgomery in their misplaced zeal to undertake adventures suitable only to the stronger sex are jeopardizing the upcoming ascent of the famous Longs Peak. As if that were not sufficient scandal, their masculine attire is an affront to decency. Longwood Baker, wealthy Colorado miner, commented thusly: “We cannot afford to be slowed by these reckless females. It is irresponsible of our guide to have afforded them a place in our prestigious party composed of world-class mountaineers.”

More quoted boasts followed, along with accounts of successful hikes up the mountain, including the fact that only three women had previously attempted to summit.

“Three successful women,” Tate muttered as he read to the concluding sentence.

It is this reporter's duty to greet the party upon completion of their descent and report to you, gentle readers, details of the ways in which these improperly clad, ill-prepared females compromised this summit attempt.

Tate checked the byline. “Who is this Rupert Stowe?”

“One and the same rascal who, along with his fellow snoop, has been trying to interview Belle. They figured out when the girls were taking off. This morning they were waiting to ambush them with questions and, frankly, taunts. Luckily I got to them first. Then Jackson and John, who'd spied them on the road, arrived and together we were able to persuade the men to desist.”

“So they didn't disturb Belle and Sophie?”

Joe's eyes glinted with amusement. “To the contrary, the gals disturbed them. Issued a challenge to join them on the trip up Longs.”

Tate felt himself relax. “Let me guess. The reporters weren't
that
interested in firsthand news gathering.”

“No, but they made a beeline for the telegraph office, no doubt to communicate their latest on-the-scene report.”

“I don't think they're the last of the lot. On my ride over, I saw a party of five horsemen I didn't recognize heading off on the trail to Wild Bill's. There seems to be a great deal of interest in the ladies.”

“I can only hope some in their hiking party are less mean-spirited.”

“Truth to tell, Joe, other than Wild Bill, who seems to like the notoriety, they are going to have to rely on themselves. And I have the suspicion their fellow hikers are in for a huge surprise.”

“We know these two.
Grit
is their middle name. I would never count them out.”

“Nor would I. Still, I won't breathe easy until they return safe and sound.”

“And triumphant,” Joe said, sticking out his hand to shake Tate's. “You gonna be at the finish Saturday?”

“I wouldn't miss it. Nor would Marcus and Toby. They think their Miss Sophie can conquer the world.”

Joe laid his other hand on Tate's shoulder. “And just maybe she's conquered you in the process.”

Tate felt a blush creep up his neck. “Time will tell.”

And so it would, he thought to himself as he rode home. If only he and Sophie could overcome their obstacles. He knew Sophie wrestled with her devotion to the memory of her Charlie and the possibility of her permanent return to Kansas, while he faced the difficulty of making himself vulnerable again and, beyond that, discovering if he was capable of loving another and being loved in return.

* * *

Just as the sun vanished behind the far mountains, Sophie, Belle and the others arrived at a clearing on the edge of the boulder field where the party would make camp that night. Of all the men, only the outdoorsy gentleman, who had introduced himself as Clark Ellicott, offered to help them pitch their tent. They politely declined and proceeded to get theirs set up before many of the others had finished. In fact, the miner and the city gents were proceeding clumsily with muttered oaths. Bill built a small fire and soon had a pan of beans and a pot of coffee simmering. The rancher slipped a flask from his coat pocket and took a healthy swig. “Won't do to overindulge,” Bill drily observed.

Belle and Sophie sat primly by, eating their supper and observing the others swapping stories and slapping each other on the back in shows of bravado. “Most of them are scared,” Belle observed in a low voice.

“Especially Mr. Baker,” Sophie whispered.

“I'm thinking that instead of our being a nuisance, some of them may well be.”

“That one city fellow is already gasping like a beached trout.” Sophie reconsidered her own confidence. “It won't do to become complacent just because we've trained and are acclimated to the altitude.”

“It's going to be hard, Sophie. Very hard.”

“But exciting!”

Belle smiled in agreement.

Bill stood by the campfire. “This is not a night for revelry. You will rouse before dawn, eat and be ready to set forth at first light.”

Before retiring for the night, Sophie paused briefly to study the sky ablaze with starlight. It was as if heaven could be hers if only she could reach out and touch one of those stars. She hugged herself against the alpine chill.
Charlie. You seem so close, yet so far away. But always in my heart.

Once inside the tent, she rolled up in a blanket, uncomfortably aware of the rocky ground on which she lay. Thus cocooned, she closed her eyes in what was a futile attempt to sleep. What was it that compelled her to try to summit? Undertaking the cause of emancipation for women? Her own stubborn determination to do what others claimed she could not? To experience the majestic scenery? All of those and none of them. In her heart, she knew why. Foolish as it might sound, she believed that once atop Longs Peak, she might be free of the burdens that had so long defined her.

She must have eventually dozed off, because the next thing she knew, she was being shaken awake. “It's time,” Belle said in an awestruck tone.

Sophie sat up and echoed her friend. It was indeed time. Although she felt the acceleration of her heartbeat, she also experienced a calm sense of purpose. “Today is our day.”

* * *

Friday. The day. From his first glimpse of the sun, Tate had been fraught with nervous energy, unable to concentrate. Marcus and Toby had besieged him at breakfast. “Do you think they've started hiking?”

“How long will it take them to reach the summit?” Their questions only served to echo his own desire to follow the progress of the hiking party. Yet all they could do was wait until tomorrow when the group would descend from the timberline camp where they'd camp tonight after the summit attempt. He lingered at the table after the boys had gone outside with Buster and Minnie. When Bertie came to clear the dishes, she gazed at him with motherly concern. “She'll be fine, sir. You'll see.”

Not only Joe, but now Bertie. Was his affection for Sophie that obvious? “I know, but still, it's an arduous trek.”

“She's up to the task. I'm very proud of her.”

“As am I,” he said. At first Sophie's advanced ideas about the role of women had shocked him. After all, he was the man who thought he had married the ideal wife—a socially adept hostess with charmingly conventional views who adoringly respected his authority. What did he get? Ramona. Sophie, on the other hand, was a tomboyish independent thinker with wit and intellect the equal of any man. She was by no means a woman to be tamed. He grinned at the improbability of that ever happening.

He left the table and walked to the library alcove, now bereft of the liveliness of Sophie's presence. He
was
proud of her. She had the imagination, confidence and determination to undertake the most difficult of physical challenges. Beyond that, however, as evidenced by her care of his sons, she had a boundless capacity for love and compassion. He hoped that in the days following the Longs Peak climb he could find the courage to express his admiration of her.
Admiration?
That was hardly the word. He simply couldn't imagine going through life without her.

* * *

Sophie was grateful for her sturdy, comfortable boots. It was painstaking work traversing the uneven boulder field covered with rocks of all sizes, as if a giant had randomly strewn them. She had to watch the placement of each foot, lest she turn an ankle or catch her toe in a crevice and trip. At times she had to skirt larger boulders or climb through them on all fours. At first glance the route to the Keyhole rock formation marking the beginning of the summit trail had seemed quite manageable. Now Sophie acknowledged the difficulty of estimating distance in such a vast, monochromatic environment. She could hear the gasps and grunts of her fellow hikers and the steady wheeze of Mr. Baker, who trailed her by twenty feet. The rancher seemed fixated on following Bill as closely as possible. As for the others, they streamed out across the field, progressing at a steady pace. The day was clear, and the early-morning sun warmed the back of Sophie's neck. She pulled the brim of her hat lower and marched on. Belle, though not lagging, brought up the rear, more as a means of urging Mr. Baker along, although Sophie knew he would never claim to need such help.