Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

M iles Coulter ran his fingers along the smooth edge of the metal blade as he stood in Canvas Creek’s general store, studying an unusual pickax. The handle had been formed of two parts, with a lever in the middle, which would require less effort to strike and give a harder blow than a man would be able to manage on his own. This tool would surely make cutting into a stone wall a great deal easier, allowing men to get more work done in a single day…or knock off early to spend time with a gal.

Ugh. He’d spent too much time around romance lately, what with all his smitten brothers and their pretty little brides, and young’uns, to boot.

He returned his focus to the tool. It could use a few minor adjustments to optimize its output, but he could easily make those. If he extended the top part of the handle a little longer, it should strengthen the power of each blow. He’d have to be careful not to go too long, though, or the pickax would become unwieldy.

"You've been staring at that thing for an hour.” His brother Jude propped a shoulder against a nearby shelf.

"I started drawing it last night, but I can’t get the scale right." He needed Gil’s talent. His big brother could sketch the thing in perfect details. Of course, if Gil were here, they wouldn’t be here in the first place. Miles slid a glance to where the clerk was helping a customer. “Do you think they’d mind if I measure it?”

Jude’s brows rose. “You could always ask. Or we could just buy it so you can take the thing apart and rebuild it the way you want.”

Excitement surged at that idea. “Let’s. That’s a good idea.”

He shifted his focus to the clusters of people milling around the store. "You seen Two Stones yet?" They'd split up from their Salish friend that morning, all searching a different direction from town for any sign of Gil or Sampson.

Jude shook his head. "Not yet. But he said he'd meet us here when the sun is three fingers from the horizon." He glanced out the western-facing window. “Which should be about now.”

Miles glanced out too, squinting against the late afternoon sunlight. The streets of Canvas Creek were bustling with activity, but there was no sign of their friend's tall, lean frame and pitch-black hair. Had he found someone who knew where Gil had gone? They'd been searching for days now, following every lead and rumor, but he seemed to have vanished without a trace. Just like Sampson had.

A knot twisted in Miles’s belly.

A voice sounded from the counter, Mr. Smith asking another customer what he needed. Miles let his gaze wander to the exchange. He and Jude were far enough out of the way that he wouldn’t be caught staring.

“Need what’s on this list.” The fellow slid a scrap of paper across the surface.

Mr. Smith adjusted his spectacles and scanned the note, his balding head gleaming in the late afternoon light slanting through the windows. "Most of these are medicines. Somebody sick?" He turned and reached for bottles on the shelves behind him.

"Just fill it quick as you can. And add a couple bottles of whiskey and a pound of coffee."

As the clerk worked, the customer leaned against the counter, his gaze restlessly roaming the store. When his eyes met Miles's, he looked away.

Was it his imagination or was the man hiding something? Miles left the row of tools and wandered that way, pretending to examine the tins of tobacco lined up near the register.

The stranger drummed his fingers on the countertop. Then he asked, "You got a doctor around these parts?"

Smith paused, a bottle of some dark liquid in his hand. "Nearest one's in Helena, a half day's ride from here."

The man cursed under his breath. "Just my luck."

As the clerk set the last items in the crate beside the customer, the fellow reached for it. "Put it on Mick's tab."

Mick?

Miles straightened, exchanging a sharp glance with Jude as the stranger strode out of the store, the door slamming behind him.

Jude stepped toward Miles and spoke low. "We need to go. Now."

Miles’s gaze darting back to the pickax. "Can I just purchase that real quick? Or get one more measurement?—"

"Miles." Jude's voice turned urgent. "He’s the man Gil and Sampson were searching for. This could be our best chance at finding them."

He turned to follow Jude. "Let's go."

They left the store and turned right, staying a distance behind the man from the store.

In Miles’s mind, he called to his brothers. Hang on, boys . We're coming for you.

S hadows flicked on the rock walls as Jess crept along the corridor, her breath shallow and her pulse racing. Thank God she’d taken the shortcut through the tunnel back from the storage closet, where she’d gathered more willow bark.

The words she'd just overheard echoed in her mind, each one like a dagger to her heart. Her father's cruel instructions to Jedidiah rang in her ears—move the sapphires Gil had found to a new location, somewhere in a different mountain.

Then make sure Gil met with an accident .

Nausea rose in her throat.

He would have her husband killed. The father of her child.

Of course, Gil was neither of those things, but Father didn’t know that.

If ever she’d hoped she was more important to him than money, the truth was as real as the stone beneath her feet now.

Now that he couldn’t marry her or sell her, she was worthless to him.

She slipped into the apartment, doing her best to slow her breathing.

Father and Jedidiah had sounded as if they’d be occupied for a while, so hopefully she and Gil could talk without being overheard.

Now that it’d been a full day since the beating, he was propped up in her bed, his handsome face still mottled with the swelling around his left eye and cheek. Her chest ached every time she looked at him. How much pain must he be in? Especially since he’d refused to take a full dose of laudanum Riggs brought back from town, agreeing to take just enough to take the edge off. He joked about not wanting to sleep all day, but she knew the truth. He needed to be alert, to be ready for the next attack.

Which would come, if Father had his way. And Father always had his way.

Gil’s good eye met hers as she approached. Sinking onto the edge of the bed, she swallowed hard against the lump in her throat.

“What’s wrong?” He reached for her hand, as he had so many times in the last day. He seemed to crave the connection, as though her touch brought him comfort.

As his touch did her. Being connected to him made her feel stronger. Like she could face whatever lay before them.

She needed that strength now more than ever.

"Gil, I...I just heard my father talking to Jedidiah." Her voice trembled, so she eased out a breath of tension. "He told Jedidiah to move the sapphires you found, to store in another mountain cave.”

Gil looked like he was about to ask questions, so she hurried with the rest.

“And then..." A knot clogged the words inside her, and she had to fight the burning in her eyes. "He told Jedidiah to kill you. To make it look like an accident."

Gil's fingers tightened around hers, his only reaction to her words. At last, he released a long stream of air, resting his head back against the pillows that propped him. His good eye focused on the stone ceiling. He must be regretting ever meeting her. Deeply regretting that he’d agreed to pretend to be her husband.

“I’m sorry, Gil. I’m so sorry I got you into this mess. I won't let him hurt you. I promise." Panic welled in her chest at all the ways Jedidiah would try. He preferred direct confrontation, with a few of his bullies alongside to make the numbers as uneven as possible. But he could be conniving. And he took delight in torture.

How could her father stand to have that man around?

Except Father was just like Jedidiah. Maybe Jedidiah had learned his ruthlessness from her father.

It didn’t matter. Gil had to be her focus now. Him and how she could protect him.

His gaze shifted back to her, his expression frank, as if he’d found the answer. "We have to leave, Jess. Now."

Her insides knotted. “You can’t travel. You’re injured.” And even if they did get out, Jedidiah’s men would track them down. “Our only chance of getting free for good is if my father allows it.”

His grip on her hand tightened as his one good eye held her gaze.

If she blocked out the other side, it didn’t hurt so much to look at him. But even with black eyes and distorted features, this was still Gil, the man who’d committed to keep her and her baby safe. Her free hand already rested on the bump at her middle, and she rubbed her thumb over her dress. I’ll protect you, sweet one. I’ll protect you both. Somehow.

So much was at stake. She couldn’t let them make a wrong move.

“I promised I would get you out of here. You and the baby.” He shifted his hand to cover the one she’d rested on her belly. The warmth in his eye, the intimacy, the certainty—they nudged the walls she was trying to keep strong.

His voice held steady. “With God as our help, we’ll get free from this place. Both of us. All of us.” The baby too.

She sucked in cool air, letting it fill her chest and lift her shoulders. Letting it clear the panic from her body and the fear from her mind. She’d not included God in her worries or frantic plans. How could she call herself a Christian and have so little faith?

She placed her other hand over Gil’s, holding all three of them at her belly. “Can we pray? Now?”

The edges of his good eye crinkled. Then he closed it, and his rich voice filled the space around them. “Lord. Thank You for being the Good Father, no matter how much our earthly family fails us.”

Good Father.

Hot tears seared her eyes. She was only now allowing herself to put into words—if only in her mind—how much her father had failed her. To think of God as Father had always been a struggle for her, though Ezekiel called Him that often. It seemed impossible to think of Someone Who loved her, Who planned good things for her—hope and a future—and also think of Him as a Father.

Gil was still praying, and she was missing his wonderful words, so she tugged her mind back to focus.

"We trust You to guide our steps and protect us. Help us to be wise and discerning as we seek a way out of this situation. Give us courage and strength for whatever we face. In Jesus's name, amen."

She echoed a soft "Amen." The sincerity and steadiness of Gil’s words seeped into her soul, fortifying her faith. God was with them. He would make a way, even when there seemed no options.

She opened her eyes to find Gil watching her, a gentle smile on his lips despite the pain that had to be throbbing through his battered face. "We'll figure this out together, Jess. You're not alone anymore. None of us are.”

Gil was right, of course.

God had brought this wonderful man to her, a man to show her His love, just as Ezekiel had, yet in a very different way. Her middle warmed as that thought settled.

A very different way from old Ezekiel.

Could Gil see what she was thinking? Why did it seem his smile turned roguish?

She drew in a deep breath, scrambling for a way to refocus them on the task at hand. "What about your brother? Do you want me to find him and see if he’ll go with us?”

Gil’s gaze turned distant, pain seeping into his good eye. “He made it clear he won’t leave here. I don’t want to risk you or the baby to convince him.” His throat worked. “Sampson can be stubborn. I guess I have to let him make that choice.”

Breath seeped out of her, leaving only the pain that Gil must also be feeling. “I’m sorry.”

He gave a grim nod. “Me too.”

She inhaled again, mentally searching for the next step. “We need a plan. My father will have guards at every exit, watching for any sign of us trying to leave."

Gil's brow lowered. “We can get to that tunnel that shares the same entrance as this apartment, right? The one that leads to the bunk room? Are there any other passageways I haven’t seen? Even tiny ones? Or caves that dead-end?”

She pictured the outside of the mountain in her mind. "I only know of the main entrance from our apartment and the three others—one on each side of the mountain. And they'll all be heavily guarded.”

"Hmm." Gil shifted, trying to sit up straighter, though his face twisted in pain.

She adjusted the pillows behind him. His every breath looked agonizing.

When he was settled, he reached for her hand once more, resting their clasp on the blanket. "I think our best chance is to wait until nightfall and sneak out then. Maybe out the front entrance where the grass is highest? I can stand guard with a gun while you crawl low. You can take a gun with you, and once you're clear, you can cover me as I follow."

The image of Gil dragging himself across the ground, each movement pure agony with his battered ribs, made her insides clench. “Are you sure you should do that?” She knew better than to ask whether he could do it. Men were stubborn when you questioned their capabilities. At least Father was.

But Gil didn’t seem angry. In fact, was that a glimmer of humor in his eye? Surely not.

His fingers tightened around hers, a reassuring squeeze. "I'll manage, Jess. Remember what we prayed, for strength to face what we need to?" His tone held a bit of humor too.

“You also prayed for wisdom and discernment. Those would be wise to use now.”

The corners of his mouth tugged upward. “True.”

She lifted her hand from Gil’s and pressed two fingers to the wound, using the lightest of touches. Maybe she should have bandaged it, but she’d been applying salve every few hours, and the cut didn’t fester. If they were on the move, she’d need to protect it from dirt and further damage.

Gil slid his hand around her wrist and pressed a kiss to the center of her palm.

He was such a good man. How could he possibly want anything else to do with her? After they got out of this mess, he would run as far away from her as he could. Maybe he’d make sure she found a place to settle first—his honor might require him to do that much—but then he’d be done with her.

And she’d be alone.

Yet alone and free would be so much better than smothered and miserable, surrounded by all the evil here.

“Jess.”

Her name in Gil’s husky voice made her heart skip a beat.

She forced a light expression and lifted her brows at him. “Yes?”

He rested their joined hands on his midsection and placed his other on top despite the pain the movement obviously brought, based on how his eyes tightened at the edges. “What are your plans for when you’re free?”

No softening the question, just straightforward. As though their thoughts had been following the same trail.

She worked for a casual tone. “I’ll find a quiet town somewhere. Maybe in a different territory. Someplace my father and Jedidiah’s men won’t find me. I’ll get work, and we’ll have a nice life.” Just her and the baby. Free.

His hands tightened around hers. “Would you come back to the ranch with me? To stay?”

Her heart surged. Did he mean…they would…? But no. He’d not offered marriage, just a safe place to live.

As his…mistress? Surely not. Not Gil.

Maybe he meant for her to build a little house on the property like others had. But how would she work? Even if housing weren’t a problem, she’d need to buy food. And things for the baby.

“Jess.”

Again, the way his voice caressed her name drew her from the churning in her mind.

His gaze was so warm. “I know I only met you a few days ago, but we’ve been through a few things together.” Those lips tugged upward again. “Our situation makes me feel like I know you much better than the short time would usually allow. And one thing I’m certain of is that I want to know you better. I want to court you.”

Wait. What? What was he saying?

“I want to know every thought that passes through your mind.” His words rumbled deep and tilled hard soil deep inside her. “I want to be there to protect you. And help you. And make sure you never want for anything. Not shelter. Not food. Not all the wonderful things you deserve. And especially not love.”

The loose soil lifted as if tossed by a whirlwind.

Did he…? Was he saying he wanted to…?

He lifted her hand to the side of his jaw, the uninjured part near his stitches. “I don’t want to rush you. You can take as long as you want to decide. Months. Years. As long as you need. But I want you to know that this is what I’ve started to dream of. Until you know for sure, though, my family has lots of room for you. My sisters-in-law will fight over who gets to keep you, I’m sure.”

Fight? They’d fight?

He pressed a kiss to her fingertips. “In a good way. They’ll love you.” He must have felt her tension. He lowered their joined hands back to the bed.

Her mind spun so fast she couldn’t form words.

He glanced over at his sleeping pallet. “Unless someone’s taken it, my rifle should be under my blankets.”

Right.

The beautiful picture he’d drawn in her mind couldn’t happen until they got out of here.

She had a lot to do to get ready for their escape tonight.

There would be time later to savor Gil’s words.