Chapter 23

23

L eah plunged the head of the ax into the icy bucket, more like she was churning butter than splitting wood. The metal end was so heavy it took all her effort to raise it over her shoulder, so this method worked better for her. It was the third time today she'd cracked ice in the buckets for the stock near the barn.

The snow from three days ago still came to her knees, and Gideon had said they might get more any time. He'd been nice enough to clear a trail between the house, barn, and outhouse. She wasn't sure she could have tromped through the deep stuff with her weak right leg. Why had she ever thought snow was fun?

When water splashed under her ax, she gave Bethany a pat and let herself out of the milk cow's stall. She surveyed the barn, going through her mental checklist. The animals all had hay and water, including the stall where Gideon would put his mount when he came back from tending the herd. He was late tonight, but that didn't surprise her. The deep snow made everything harder.

She leaned the ax against the wall and let herself out of the barn, moving stiffly toward the house. Her hands were numb inside the leather gloves Miriam had let her borrow. It was colder out here than she'd thought possible.

She cocooned her head in her blue cloak and hood, imagining the fire blazing in the warm cabin. She'd left Miriam with instructions about when to remove the rice and beef bake from the oven, but she'd feel better knowing it hadn't burned.

A whistle from behind brought Leah's head from her cocoon, and she turned as Gideon rode into the yard. Drifter trotted through the snow behind him, following in the horse's tracks. Gideon sat tall in his buckskins and leather hat, his clean-shaven face revealing his strong features. Would he let the mountain man beard grow again now that cold weather had come? As practical as it was, it would be a shame to cover up that handsome face.

He headed her direction, so she stood waiting for him, soaking in the sight of him as he approached. It wasn't until he reined in that she saw the bulky object sitting behind his saddle.

She glanced at his face. "What do you have?"

The corners of his mouth played as he dismounted, not answering her question.

She tried again. "What is it?"

He turned to her, a hint of pride playing across his features. "I brought you fresh elk meat. That's why I was late for dinner. This fellow came across my path, and I couldn't pass him up."

Her eyes widened as she followed Gideon around to the other side of the horse. Draped behind the saddle was a large leather-wrapped bundle with a rack of antlers poking out one end. Good thing the rest of the animal was covered. A wave of sadness washed over her at the thought of the majestic animal dead. This was the pattern of life, though, God providing for their needs.

Gideon seemed to notice her reticence and touched her arm as he spoke. "I'd better get this guy to the barn, then I'll be in the house."

Leah inhaled a breath and turned to face him, forcing a bright smile on her face. "It will be wonderful to have fresh meat."

Gideon's eyes flickered and the corners of his mouth pulled upward, as if he understood her struggle. "I'll see you in the house then."

Something about his understanding left her disappointed with herself. She needed to be stronger if she was going to live in these rugged mountains. She would be stronger.

The next morning, Gideon split wood at the stump beside the cabin before he headed out to check the stock for the day.

Swing. Thwak! The wood flew from the block, landing with the other pieces that had already collected in two piles. He reached for another round log and placed it upright on the stump.

Swing. Thwak! The steady effort kept his blood pumping and his muscles warm, despite the freeze that had come upon them during the last week.

Swing. Thwak! This time, he allowed the ax to rest on the stump as he straightened and wiped a buckskin-clad arm across his forehead.

"Are you ready for a cup of coffee?"

The sweet voice caught him off guard. He turned to Leah, who stood at the corner of the house looking like a real live angel. The steam wafting from the mug in her hand circled around her head in a halo, and her smile was soft, like a morning fog.

It wasn't until she stepped forward, offering the mug in both hands like the gift of the magi, that he realized he was staring. Closing his gaping jaw, he reached to receive the gift, his eyes sneaking back up for one more glimpse of her face. His gaze brushed hers, and he was pretty sure he mumbled "Thank you."

She turned to survey the wood chunks piled on the ground. "You've been working hard this morning."

What should he say to that? She hadn't asked a question, but she seemed to expect an answer. He'd always hated small talk.

Finally, he shrugged. "A little."

She turned back to him as if she could read his thoughts. "Would you teach me how to shoot a gun?"

The surprise of her question made him sway, and he braced his right foot for balance. "Teach you to shoot?"

"Miriam said you taught her, and you're the best shot in the area."

"No." He turned back to the stump and reached for his ax.

"Gideon…" The sound of his name on her lips stopped his retreat, and he pivoted slowly back toward her. He made the mistake of looking in her doe eyes, full of hope. There was no way he could resist their pull.

"All right. Can you be ready in half an hour?"

The look of joy that flowed over her face sent a thrill through his chest. He would have fought a hundred Indians single-handed to bring on that expression again.

She was right on time, meeting him on the front porch with an eager smile. He led the way toward the back of the cabin where they could shoot into the side of the mountain.

When they were positioned about seventy feet from the tree line, he took a deep breath and held up his gun. "This is a Winchester repeating rifle. It can fire several rounds without reloading, you just pump this handle."

She looked on with focused attention while he demonstrated how to load the gun and use the lever action to cock it. Her presence so near made his entire body tense.

Finally, he got to the part where he could raise the gun and shoot, and the familiar feel of the solid wood frame soothed his fraying nerves. One shot…two…three…all right on target.

Lowering the rifle, he released a breath, his emotions now firmly in hand. "You wanna try?"

She reached for the gun, her eyes sparkling like the mossy rocks in the creek. She held the rifle against her shoulder, high enough that it tucked into her collar bone. That would never do. The kick of the gun would likely dislocate or crack the bone. He took a deep breath, then moved into her space to help position the shooter.

He was careful not to touch her, but from the corner of his vision he could see her wide eyes on his face. He didn't glance up, just kept his focus on the rifle. The steam from her breath warmed his icy hands.

As soon as he'd moved the gun to the right place, he almost jumped backward, putting a good pace between them.

"Go ahead and aim for that same tree." The breathless feeling in his chest surely came from the frigid air.

She squinted down the barrel for several seconds, her hands quivering from the weight of the piece. When the boom came, it shook her entire body, knocking her backwards. He lunged forward, although he didn't have to move far to catch her.

For a long moment he held her, soft and warm in his arms as she leaned against him. His body clasped her tight even though his brain screamed at him to let her go. His mind finally won, and he stepped back, keeping his hands on her shoulders until he was sure she was steady. "You all right?"

"Yeah." Her voice sounded breathless. Was she hurt? Or were her insides doing flips the way his were?

She turned those wide doe eyes on him again. "I guess I wasn't quite ready for that."

The wonder in her gaze sent a falling sensation through his chest. He blinked, forcing his focus back on the rifle. "I should have warned you—it kicks pretty hard."

She raised one corner of her perfectly-shaped mouth. "Now you tell me."

The next time Leah raised the rifle to her shoulder, her hands were steady and she braced one foot slightly behind. When the gun fired, she swayed a bit but kept both feet planted. Without looking at him, she ratcheted the lever and fired again, repeating the process until the gun would shoot no more.

She reloaded the gun the same way he had, although not quite as fluidly. By the time she'd emptied it again, she'd hit the tree five times. After the last shot, she lowered the rifle and swiveled to face him, triumph brightening her face.

"Good work." He couldn't keep the pride from his voice.

Gideon worked the oil through the bridle in his hand as he watched Leah out of the corner of his eye. She'd been standing at that window for half an hour now, staring at the snow falling in the darkness outside. What was she thinking behind those bewitching eyes?

Ever since that day two weeks ago when he'd taught her to shoot, he'd been warring with his emotions toward this woman. The respect and admiration that had grown in him the last few months was fast becoming more. He'd been fighting the feelings, but watching her now, he was tired of the battle. She was beautiful and kind and strong in ways he'd never imagined. What was so wrong with getting to know her better?

"Is everything all right, Leah?"

At the sound of Miri's voice, he glanced at his sister. She'd dropped the quilt squares she'd been sewing and was looking at her friend expectantly.

Leah continued to stare out the window as if she hadn't heard. His chest squeezed at the tension that radiated from her shoulders.

Finally she sighed, a long mournful sound. When she spoke, her voice was almost swallowed by the glass pane in front of her and the sea of darkness beyond. "I was just thinking now that my leg is healed, it's time for me to move on."

All of his muscles tensed, as if fending off an attack. Before he could stop himself, words spilled out. "You can't leave."

She turned, an unspoken question in her gaze.

He realized what he'd said, and his mind paddled quickly toward clearer waters. "The snow is too deep in the pass that goes to town. You won't make it through, even on horseback." Miriam's gaze heated his neck, but he ignored her. He didn't need to mention that she could go the long way around through the valley. It was more than twice the distance, but probably navigable. Still, it wasn't worth the risk.

Leah didn't answer, but her face paled before she turned back to the window.

Did she hate it so much here? Was she so desperate to leave? Or was she afraid of the harsh winter? Montana weather in these mountains could be something to fear, and this was looking to be a rough one. He'd watched fear kill Jane, and he'd be bound and gagged before he'd let the same thing happen to this woman.

He carefully chose his next words, watching her closely as he spoke. "If you really want to leave, we could probably hike out on snowshoes. It'd take at least a day, prob'ly two. It's up to you."

She didn't turn, and after a while he wondered if she'd heard him.

Her voice was small when she spoke. "No, I'd rather wait."

He didn't question too strongly the relief that flooded through him.