CHARITY'S GOLD RUSH (A Strike It Rich in Montana novel) (29 page)

BOOK: CHARITY'S GOLD RUSH (A Strike It Rich in Montana novel)
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Tears stung her eyes. She was a foolish woman, dwelling on dreams. They would die in these mountains. The children would be left to the likes of Amos Jenkins.
She shook her head
. Not if she could help it.

She took stock of where they were, wishing she had paid more attention yesterday. The tallest mountain peak was on her right. That meant home was to the left and back, right? She never was good at directions. She focused on Gabriel’s strong back. With God’s help, he would get them
home
safely. God seemed to listen to Gabriel.

             
Her
stomach grumbled, reminding her
of
how long it had been since she’d eaten. Most likely, Gabriel figured they would be at Red Feather’s camp and treat
ed as guests by now.

             
She shifted in the saddle, trying to restore circulation to her numb bottom and chafed wrists.
Not to mention her need to use the necessary. She cut a sideways glance at the Indian who woke her. He kept his gaze straight ahead, long
braids
hang
ing down his
front
.

             
“Excuse me? Could we stop for a moment?” She craned her neck to get his attention.

             
He remained as stoic as the pine trees around them.

             
“I don’t think they speak English.” Gabriel dropped back. “Besides, talking may only make them mad.”

             
“But I need to …” She sighed, knowing she’d have to wait until they stopped. How did Gabriel manage to look every bit as strong as their captors
, even with his swollen lip
? Charity was terrified to within an inch of her life. She definitely didn’t want to spend her last day on earth tied to the back of a pony.
“What are they going to do with us?”

             
“Sell us
, maybe
?
I’m not sure.
” Gabriel shrugged. “Don’t worry. I’ll think of something.”

             
She hoped so. For a moment, she was almost tempted to pray, but was
that
would jinx them. Surely, Gabriel had them covered in the prayer department. She tightened her thighs
and planted her feet in the stirrups
to lift herself a bit off the saddle. A few more hours of this, and she’d wish the Indians had killed her in her sleep.

             
Were the children missing them by now? Had Mabel and Hiram taken them to their place? How long until someone contacted the sheriff? She shook her head. She could let the questions plague her, or she could think of a way out of their situation. The best she could figure, it all depended on their captors releasing her to use the necessary.
Then, she could escape and think of a plan to rescue Gabriel.

             
The sun sat low in the sky
. T
he wind had picked up, sending blasts of cold through her
. H
er bladder screamed, her legs burned, and her head pounded by the time the group stopped for the night.
Thunder rumbled in the distance.
Rain was e
xactly what Charity
did not need
.
She
did
n’t look forward to a cold drenching
,
or
to
being
out in a storm at this
elevation.

Gabriel slid from Rogue’s back as if he were born to the saddle. Charity had to be dragged off and left to crumple in a heap near the horse’s hooves.
None of her lessons had equipped her for hours on the back of a horse.

             
She glared and used the nearest tree to help get to her feet.
Her mouth was as dry as a desert
. Her stomach had given up on food hours ago.

             
She was lifted off the ground and deposited roughly next to Gabriel. Good. They could work together to get free.
Work on each other

s knots.
Then, m
aybe if she danced around like Meg when she had to
do her business
, the Indians would get the hint and let her slide behind a bush.

“Help me up,” she whispered to Gabriel.

             
“What do you have planned?”
He took a quick glance to where the Indians worked at building a fire.

             
Charity would like to watch, interested in seeing how they expected to get a fire started in the rising wind, but more important things beckoned.
“I need to use the necessary. While I do so, you make a distraction
.
I’ll run so a couple of them chase me, and you take care of the rest. Then, we’ll be free.” She grinned.

             
“What if the
y
catch you? Or what if I’m not able to ‘take care of’ the ones left behind?” He raised his eyebrows.

             
“That’s the part you need to figure out
. You work on distraction and getting away. I’ll work on my part
.”

             
He shook his head. “Bear against me and use your legs to r
ise
to your feet. I think it’s a bad idea, but I don’t have a better one.”

             
She braced against him and “walked” to her feet. “Why did they take us and the girl?”

             
“I think they know who she is, even if she doesn’t belong to their tribe. They probably want to use us to make some kind of deal
.

             
“I refuse to be someone’s pawn.” She started crossing her legs and
hopping back and forth.

             
Gabriel snorted. “You look ridiculous, but keep it up. You definitely have their attention.”

             
The Indians pointed and guffawed before the leader waved Charity to a group of bushes off to their left. They jabbered in their language, laughed some more, and tossed a hunk of pemmican to Gabriel.

             
Charity paused for a moment and eyed the food. No, she needed to take care of business and escape. Food could wait. She hoped.

             
W
ith her hands still tightly tied in front of her, Charity raced into the trees. She had told Gabe she would leave him, but she couldn’t.
If the situation were reversed, she could guarantee, Gabriel would not leave her behind.

             
First, she needed a place to hide. Somewhere she could work on her bindings and not be easily discovered.

             
She
ran until her breath came in gasps. She
tripped and slid across the forest floor, stopping against a
hollow
log. Could she force herself inside with the decaying leaves and insects? She swallowed back bile. It would be the perfect place to wait. Not too far from camp, but maybe far enough the Indians wouldn’t look too hard.

             
A foul smell drifted from the log’s interior. She recoiled and took a deep breath. She could do this. For Gabriel, she could crawl into the dark with the bugs and the stench.
She dropped to her knees. Something sharp stabbed her from under a bed of leaves. She dug, finding a sharp rock. Grabbing it, she dropped
to her knees
and
crawled inside
the log
, breathing
through her mouth with
small measured gasps. She never thought of herself as someone afraid of the dark before, but her skin chilled from more than the weather and bugs. Blackness engulfed her.

Her hand sunk into something mushy, and she shuddered.
God, if you could listen to me just this once, help me get through this and save Gabriel
.
If He did, she promised to be a better person.
Someone worthy of His attention.

###

             
Gab
e
eyed the pemmican lying in the dirt, and searched his brain for a way of distracting the Indians so Charity could get away.
Even if he got hurt, it would be worth it for her to escape.
He got a glimpse of her ducking
behind a tree
and wished he
had
said something. Anything. For her to
stay
safe. That he would see her later.
Told her how he felt about her.

             
He closed his eyes, then struggled to his feet
and leaned against the rough
b
ark of a pine
. He would give her a few minutes,
and
then
,
once the Indians turned restless wondering where she
’d
went, he’d make his move and pray for God to protect him.

             
Minutes stretched like hours, pulling Gabe’s nerves to the tearing point
, before the Indians started talking and casting narrow looks in the direction Charity disappeared
.
She had been gone long enough to rouse suspicion.

             
“Hey!” Gabe kicked at the pemmican. “I’m not an animal you can toss food at.”

             
The Indians ignored him. One stood and took a few steps toward the woods. Gabe kicked harder, sending dirt and dried leaves into the wind and over their heads. “Are you listening to me?”
Please, God, keep their attention on me
.

             
The Indian scowled and continued walking.

             
Gabe growled and
kicked out
his legs, taking the other man down. Before he could register his crazy act, the other three jumped him and planted punches and kicks of their own. Gabe smiled through the pain. At least his stupidity would give Charity the opportunity she needed.

             
A well aimed kick filled his mouth with blood.
Wonderful. Now his upper lip matched his lower one.
He spit, spattering the beaded moccasin of one of his captors.

The man grabbed Gabe by the hair and yanked him to his feet, yelling something. One of these days, Gabe needed to learn to speak Crow. He didn’t think the man’s words boded well for him.

             
Another
warrior
grabbed his other arm and together they slammed him against a tree and tied him there. Gabe sighed, letting his head hang. Most likely they’d leave him for the animals morning. He prayed Charity would find her way back to the children and have a good life. It sure would be nice if he could have been a part of that life. He closed his eyes to the vision of tumbling red hair and sparkling eyes.

             
As the night
darkened
, one of the Indians pulled a bottle of whiskey from a bag. When they weren’t taking swigs, they half-heartedly searched the surrounding area for Charity. Fools. If they had no intentions of keeping a tighter rein on their captives, then why bother capturing them in the first place?

             
He glanced to where the dead
girl
lay near the horses
.
Thankfully, the Indians had moved her from Rogue’s back.
Maybe someone put out a reward for the girl
and the braves intended to collect
.

             
He grunted as one of the braves bounced a rock off his head.
If they were going to kill him, he wished they’d get it over with. He didn’t relish being tormented all night by drunks.

             
It looked as if Amos would win after all. The papers Maggie signed said that should Gabe die before the land reverted to him, Amos would retain all rights. He jerked upright.

Was it possible the man hired the Indians to capture him and Charity? That the dead woman wasn’t part of the plan? It would explain why the four braves weren’t overly concerned about finding Charity.
Of course, they could always sell her for a pretty profit, but leaving her alone wouldn’t affect the overall goal if Amos was behind things.

             
The desire to free himself
rose up with the strength of the increasing storm
. If
he
could escape, he
would hunt Amos down and throttle him!

             
Gabe’s
arms ached from the pressure of the rope. The more he struggled, the
more
painful
his wrists became as the rough fibers cut into his skin
,
and he bled
. Yet, he continued to saw back and forth, stopping only when one of the Indians glanced his way.

BOOK: CHARITY'S GOLD RUSH (A Strike It Rich in Montana novel)
11.83Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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