CHARITY'S GOLD RUSH (A Strike It Rich in Montana novel) (39 page)

             
Please, God, don’t let it be her.
Snow had a way of playing tricks on a man, leading him to believe he saw and heard something that wasn’t there.

The lantern had blown off the hook. Gab
e
took a deep breath, grabbed the rope in his left hand, and slowly began to make his way to the house. He should never have fallen asleep, but Rogue’s body warmth and soft snuffles had been as effective as a lullaby.

             
There it was again. The cry for help. Or was it a trick of the wind
?
Gabe was close enough to the house
that
he could detect the warm lantern glow through the window.
There was m
ere minutes before he could sit in front of the fire.

             
He stood still for a moment and listened. Nothing but the wind. He decided the cry had been nothing but his imagination. He increased his
pace
to the house, his stomach growling in anticipation of a hot meal.

             
A wolf howl
sliced
through the late afternoon. Was the wind lessening? Did he dare hope the storm was blowing itself out? Visibility still wasn’t good, but he could
make out
the outline of the barn behind him and the white mound of the soddy
in the other direction. The lamp’s glow was brighter
.

             
Another wolf howl
ed
.
H
e turned back to make sure the latch on the barn was secure. The cattle would have to fend for themselves. He prayed he wouldn’t lose any to the storm or to predators.

             
By the time he reached his front door, he wondered whether he would ever be warm again. He shoved his way inside and stomped the snow from his boots.

             
“Pa!” Meg and Sam launched themselves at him.

             
Gabe braced himself against their onslaught and glanced around the room
while loosening his scarf
.
His heart sank.
“Where’s your Ma?”

31

             
Charity sagged against a tree. The fierce wind had finally slowed
,
and she could make out her surroundings. Unfortunately, nothing looked familiar. How could she have passed the soddy
and
the barn? She should have run into one of them
; s
tumbled past the corral
; h
eard the lowing of cattle.
She was going to die out here. Night was falling. She was going to freeze and some unfortunate hunter would find her come spring.

             
She wiped her eyes and nose with the end of her scarf and pushed onward. Maybe she headed toward Mabel and Hiram’s homestead. But, she didn’t remember this many trees
or such a steep incline. She headed up the mountain
.

             
A wolf’s howl sent shivers up her spine. She whipped around trying to locate where the chilling sound came from. Would a wolf attack an adult? Would they be hungry enough after only the first blizzard
to want to eat her
?

             
Her heart pounded loud enough to drown out the sounds around her. She needed to find shelter before it grew
completely
dark and she was at the mercy of wild animals.
Was Gabriel looking for her? Surely by now, he was. She must have been wandering for well over an hour.

             
The temptation to sit and wait came over her.
But, i
f she did, she would definitely freeze before being found.
Already she struggled to keep her eyes open.
Continuing
i
n the
direction
that led only God knew where could also result in her death, but moving meant keeping warmer.
She hunched farther in her coat and put one foot in front of the other.
The fact she might die before telling Gabriel she loved him, ripped at her heart.

###

             
“How long ago did she leave?” Gabe retied his scarf.

             
“More than an hour,” Sam answered. “You didn’t see her?
You must have passed her.
”

             
“No.” Gabe’s heart stopped. Charity had done the unthinkable. Gone out into the storm. Thank
God
, it was waning. “You two stay here. Keep warm. I’ll go looking for her. Hold onto Prince because I’m taking Lady
, and I don’t want to worry about a pup with the wolves
.”
Maybe the dog c
ould
find Charity
,
even with the falling snow.

             
“Here, Pa.” Meg thrust a chunk of bread in his hands. “It ain’t stew, but you gotta eat.”

             
“Thanks, sweetheart. I’m much obliged.” He cupped her cheek and stared into brown eyes shimmering with tears. “Don’t fret. I’ll find your Ma.” Or die trying.
God protect her from the cold
.

             
“Come on, girl.” He motioned for Lady to follow him. He felt a moment’s remorse at coaxing the dog out into the weather, but finding Charity was more important than the dog’s comfort. He grabbed a knapsack from a nail by the door, giving him the tools he would need to start a fire
, and Charity’s red cloak. The color would help her feel better while she warmed up from the cold. Her old jacket was so worn
.

Sam thrust a bedroll at him. “You taking Rogue?”

“
Yes. I’m hoping it won’t be too difficult for him
. I
t will be faster than going on foot
.”
Charity
left o
ver an hour ago. With the way the wolves seemed to be on the move, he might already be too late.

###

             
Charity found a stout stick to help her walk.
Her feet ached. Her mind went numb an hour ago. Sleep sounded very good.
Instead of leaving the woods for open ground, she seemed to be moving into thicker trees and upward.
Everything looked so different covered in snow.

             
A wolf howled closer than before.
She
wanted to join her cries with the animal’s. Instead, she forced herself to move faster. Eventually she would have to hit some sign of civilization, right? An Indian village or a homestead?
How many neighbors did Gabriel have? She should have asked.

After what she
judged
to be
an
hour, t
he wind died, the snow stopped, and stars winked between the
dissolving
clouds. Footfalls padded around her, and Charity caught glimpses of dark shadows darting
among
the trees. The howls had stopped
to be replaced by snarls
. Instead, the moon and stars glittered off yellow eyes fixed on
her
.

She clutched her stick tighter. She wouldn’t go down without a fight.
The snarling grew closer.
She glimpsed a fire through the trees, and ran.
She burst into a clearing, turned, and brandished her stick.

“Mrs. Williams?”

Charity glanced over her shoulder. Amos Jenkins grabbed his rifle and fired three shots into the air, scattering the wolves.

“Mr. Jenkins.” Charity sagged with relief. A fire blazed from the center of the clearing.
Next to it was a leanto thick with pine branches.
She dropped her stick and rushed toward
the fire
. Pain pricked her fingers as they warmed. Was that coffee in the pot?
“I am so thankful to see you.
How did you weather the storm out here alone?
”

“I managed.”
Amos hunkered down opposite her. “How long have your been out here?
Why
are you out here? If I hadn’t gotten stranded myself, you could have wandered for days, if you didn’t freeze to death first.”

“That thought did occur to me. May I?” She reached for the pot and the mug next
to
him

He nodded. “Help yourself. There
a
re beans in the pan, if you’re hungry.”

She wrapped her fingers around the hot mug. Heaven.
She met
Amos’s
hard gaze.
Though his words were cordial,
his manner was colder than the snow.
It seemed as if she inconvenienced him. “I do appreciate the coffee, Mr. Jenkins. Very much. I’m sure Gabriel will also appreciate any aid you give me. If it is a problem
for you
to take me home, could you point me in the right direction?”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible.” Amos poked at the wood in the fire pit with a stick. “I am headed to the Crow village. Seems I am responsible for the death of one of their young women
,
and they are dreadfully unhappy. You are the solution to my problem. If I give them you, maybe they will stop hunting me.” He grinned.

“What were you going to do if I had not stumbled upon you?”

Amos shrugged. “I was hoping to barter several
some horses,” He motioned to a couple of horses over his shoulder. “F
or the girl’s death. I no longer need to do so.”

Charity dropped the mug, turned
,
and ran. A breath later, Amos tackled her to the ground.
Her face froze from contact with the ground.

“I really was hoping you would cooperate.” He got to his feet and yanked her to hers. “Now, I’ll have to tie you up
and hope you don’t freeze
.”

“You won’t get away with this.” Charity struggled. “Gabriel will have your head.”

“I won’t need my head if the Indians take my scalp
. Circumstances are more promising now.”
He pushed her down as close to the fire as he could, and bound her hands and feet. “If I were you, I would pray the wolves don’t come investigating during the night.”

“I didn’t have the opportunity to eat, Mr. Jenkins. Or finish my coffee. Please untie my hands.”

“You should have thought of that before you tried to run.”

Charity glared.
Amos wasn’t as smart as he thought he was. He obviously didn’t know Red Feather was Gabriel’s good friend,
but
she wouldn’t be the one to give him that information.
She scooted to where she had dropped the mug, wrapped her hands around it, and managed to wedge it between two rocks so she could pour in more coffee. When she had finished, she tossed Amos a confident grin.

He frowned and grabbed a bedroll from the back of his piebald horse. Wrapping a wool blanket around his shoulders, he stretched out in front of the fire. “If you’re still alive in the morning, we’ll head out.”

“Hmmph.” Oh, she would be alive all right! She wouldn’t give the scoundrel the satisfaction of finding her dead come morning.
Wouldn’t she love to bash him over the head with a rock? She sighed, knowing she wouldn’t, but the thought kept her from drifting to sleep.
She wanted to stay awake as long as possible and plan her escape.
Would she ever be warm again?

She lay as close to the fire as she dared and rolled into a ball. At least one side of her would be warm.
Gabriel and the children must be so worried. If nothing had happened to Gabriel, that is.
He could very well have gotten lost in the storm as she had.

She gave herself a mental shake. Most likely he had stayed in the barn. Only she was foolish e
nough to venture out in a storm. B
ut she had been genuinely afraid something had happened to him. She never thought she would lose hold of the rope.
Closing her eyes, she squirmed to get more comfortable and waited for tomorrow and Red Feather or Gabriel. Whichever
, or whoever,
came first.

###

             
How far could one small woman have gone? Gabe’s legs hurt from tromping through a foot of snow. Maybe he went in the wrong direction?
H
e headed in the direction that made the most sense
to him
—w
here Charity might have gone; t
oward the creek.

             
Then, she would have noticed where she was and reversed direction. Had she gone straight up the mountain or veered to the left or the right? His shoulders slumped. She could be anywhere.
Choosing the right direction would require a miracle
, but his God was a
G
od of miracles
.
He paused for a moment to pray, then set off up the mountain.