Chapter 14

Grant's heart still raced from how close he'd come to kissing her. He'd stopped himself, though. Or rather, she'd stopped him.

Just in time.

Now he owed her an explanation. She wouldn't understand unless he told her his story.

Told her everything.

Her deep blue eyes drew him like a moth to a flame. He wanted to turn away but couldn't find the strength.

"Faith." His voice barely sounded above the flow of the river. He cleared his throat to give it more strength. "I can't let there be anything ... between us."

His words hung heavy in the air between them. She held his gaze, searching. She would never guess what all he had to tell her.

The words lodged in his throat like a stone. But as he looked into her eyes, the strength he needed lay glistening there.

He inhaled a steadying breath. "There's so much you don't know about me. For one, I was married."

She didn't even gasp, but he could no longer meet her gaze. He turned to look at the water. "She died nearly two years ago." Almost the length of time they'd been married.

Poor Gloria. She'd deserved so much better than him. He'd done his best to make himself worthy of her. To make her proud. To satisfy her with the life she'd always known and loved.

That line of thought always brought pain, so he pulled his focus back to the facts. "Her liver stopped working. It all happened so fast. She sometimes felt unwell, more so that last year. But she didn't let it slow her down. She lived for her social calendar, even in a frontier city like St. Louis.

"And then, at a party one night, she began casting up her accounts in the retiring room, and she couldn't stop. I hadn't escorted her that night. Her father went in my stead. I was an assistant with the solicitor's office her father started, and one of the partners had a big court proceeding the next day. I was the man who did all the research, laid out the arguing points."

He swallowed down the burn that rose when he remembered that time. Those hard years when he'd worked endlessly to prove himself but never managed to measure up. "Her father brought her home, and the doctor arrived soon after. Two days later, Gloria had faded to a sallow, frail version of herself. She barely had the strength to lift a cup of tea, and then she couldn't keep down what she drank."

He fought to push through the images his mind brought back. "Her father was furious. Demanded Doctor Scott tell him exactly what had caused her liver to fail. The doctor handled him well, better than most men did when Malcolm Sistaire raised his temper. He said liver failure could be caused by many things. Childhood illness that left undetected damage. Genetic predisposition. Ongoing consumption of alcohol. Certain poisons."

He summoned a shrug. "My father-in-law decided poison was the only possibility from that list, and he had me arrested for poisoning my wife. The police were waiting for me when I arrived home from her graveside service."

Faith did emit a slight gasp this time. "Grant." Then her voice gentled. "You weren't to blame for her death."

He kept his gaze fixed on the ground. "Her parents thought so. When it became clear their charge of poisoning wouldn't stand in court, they accused me of not caring for her properly, of neglecting her needs." He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. His fingers dug into the earth beneath him, desperate for some semblance of grounding in this moment of vulnerability.

"I'm so sorry for your loss. The loss of your wife, and the abandonment of her family when you needed them most." Her words hung in the air, rising above the sound of the flowing water.

He didn't need Mr. and Mrs. Sistaire. Their turning against him had been almost a relief. He could leave that life without feeling like he owed them anything. Yet talking about all this—remembering it all—brought the weight of those days pressing down on his chest, making it hard to breathe.

He looked up at Faith, and her eyes locked with his, their depths reflecting the sincerity behind her words. Her gaze never wavered, just kept an openness that soothed the raw wounds that had festered for so long.

She was far too special for him. He didn't deserve the way she seemed to still care about him, despite learning this dark part of his past.

She dipped her chin. "What happened next?"

He sent her a grim smile. "It took the court four months to decide I was telling the truth and acquit me. By then, I only wanted to leave St. Louis. That city had been nothing but a bad memory my entire life. It took a while, but I finally found the family who had adopted my little brother. Mrs. Sheldon had died, and Mr. Sheldon said I'd missed Will by one year."

He didn't say the words he'd thought so often since then. If only I'd tried harder before. He'd promised Will he'd find him. Why had it taken him fourteen years to make good on his vow?

He let out a breath. "I needed the journey west anyway. The farther we go, the more I leave St. Louis behind." He met her glassy gaze. "I've been able to start fresh." His words made it sound like he intended to build this new life with her. He couldn't leave her thinking so.

His throat tightened, but he forced out what he had to say. "But no matter how much I want my past to disappear, it can't. I've lost everyone I've ever loved. I don't have it in me to go through that again."

Faith's eyes rimmed red, and she reached for him. Her hand was a combination of softness and calluses, like the woman herself. Innocent and courageous. Not so na?ve of this country that she didn't know the perils, but not afraid to face those dangers for a cause worthy of her determination.

"Grant." Her voice trembled a little. "You've had so many tragedies in your past. I understand why you'd hesitate to allow the chance for loss again. But I hope you won't close yourself off forever. To friendship, if nothing else. You're a good man, and any person would be honored to know you."

She gripped his hand tighter. "I'm honored to know you. So many times you've set aside your own comfort and safety to help others. You're wise, savvy, and honest. You kept my secret even when you didn't agree with my choices. You've helped me with my search even when it will delay your own." Her brows rose, a playful glimmer touching her gaze. "You even left the protection of your traveling companions because you weren't sure I'd be safe with a strange Indian man."

He grimaced. White Horse had proven his character more than once since then. He was capable and willing to protect Faith. And he'd saved Grant's life.

Still ... safety wasn't the only thing Grant had worried about when she said she was leaving with the brave. He wrinkled his nose. "It wasn't so much your protection as your reputation that troubled me enough that I had to come along."

Faith laughed. A surprising sound that caught him off guard with its freedom. She ended with a grin that flashed white teeth. "There's no one out here to worry over my reputation. And if there were, you think they'd be any happier to have me traipsing about in the wilderness—unchaperoned—with two men instead of one?"

He pressed his lips. That was a valid point he wasn't ready to concede.

She shrugged the concern away. "Anyhow, White Horse is like a brother in every way except a blood tie." Then her expression sobered, softening. "Please don't close yourself off to friendship. We have an important search ahead of us—two of them. I suspect I, for one, will need a good friend to make sure I don't miss anything important."

He swallowed. She was offering an olive branch. A chance for them to carry on as they had been, maybe.

He should agree. He simply had to make sure he didn't let himself think of her in any way other than as a companion on the journey. A feat that had become harder with each day they spent together. But this was his only option, for he wouldn't abandon her to her search. He couldn't.

So he dipped his chin. "You're right."

She gave her own decisive nod and pushed to her feet. "Are you feeling ready to climb up the slope? There's work to be done."

The morning sun filtered through the pine needles, dappling the ground with light. Faith breathed in the fresh scent of the trees as she rolled up her bedding.

Beside her, Grant grunted as he lifted both their saddles and carried them toward the horses. His eyes were bloodshot, his face drawn. Clearly, he hadn't slept well. Because of his near-drowning?

As her mind brought back the memories from the day before, her chest ached with all the details he'd shared while they sat at the water's edge. So much pain he'd experienced. As if being orphaned and separated from his brother wasn't enough, he'd lost his wife, then her parents turned against him. No wonder he'd turned grumpy and standoffish.

She slung her pack over her shoulder, wincing at the familiar ache in her back. Shouldn't she be accustomed to the rigors of the trail by now?

This would all be worth any pain or hardship once they found Steps Right and finally accomplished Papa's request. The ache in her heart would ease, this pain from knowing she'd not fulfilled what he wanted most—what he'd begged of her specifically.

She reached the horses and strapped her pack behind her saddle. White Horse had already finished with his own mount and was fastening the bridle on her gelding.

"You ready?" Grant led his saddled horse toward them.

She nodded. "I was ready yesterday."

He cracked the first hint of a grin she'd seen all day. A snort slipped from White Horse, but he moved to his own mount.

When they'd all settled in their saddles, White Horse motioned Grant toward the path along the cliff bank. "You ride first. I watch back trail."

The reminder of what happened to Grant yesterday twisted a knot in her belly as they started forward. Who could have possibly pushed him into the river? It seemed so outrageous, not only that someone could have crept up behind them while they were all three standing there, but that there was another person in this wilderness at all. They'd not seen a soul since leaving Parson's group.

And someone who wanted to hurt him enough to push him over the cliff?

She would have believed it his imagination or a tale he created to excuse clumsiness, except he'd also been attacked that night when he stood watch. He'd been by himself then.

The thought that slipped in made her middle coil even more. He wouldn't have made that up. Would he?

He'd been injured. He couldn't have done that to himself.

The water flowed steadily on their left in the canyon far below, and beyond the river rose a craggy slope that followed the water's edge like a wall. Birds chirped in the trees on their right, and the fresh scent of new morning filled the air. It seemed impossible that anything awful might linger in this beautiful land.

Certainly not a stranger trying to hurt them.

As they maneuvered along the water's edge, the sun gradually rose above them. Sometimes they passed through trees that shaded, but on the other side, the heat sweltered even more. At last, they crested a rise in the trail, and in the distance, the sound of rushing water grew louder.

Faith's heart leapt. That had to be a waterfall, though she couldn't see it yet. Maybe they were nearing the end of their journey. Maybe Steps Right was just ahead.

She glanced back at White Horse, and he spared her a quick look and a half smile before returning his focus to the river ahead. She turned forward again and nudged Two Bit faster, pulling alongside Grant.

They were all three riding side by side when she first saw the dip in the water's surface that signaled the top of the falls.

She strained for any sign of a cave or another person in the area. They couldn't yet see the cascading water, but the roar of its flow rose too loud to hear each other speak.

As they came to the edge of the expanse of tumbling liquid, she saw the river was wide here, creating a massive falls that plunged far down into a deep pool. Mist cast a breathtaking rainbow in the sunlight.

She glanced over at Grant to see his reaction. He must have felt her notice, for he turned to her with bright eyes. They spoke a silent question, Beautiful, isn't it?

She couldn't help a grin that offered her response. Incredible. Part of the weight in her chest had lifted, as if the power of the water had cleared away her worries.

White Horse slipped from his mount, then left the animal as he moved down the steep slope on foot. Looking for a cave behind the falls, no doubt. She slid off her own gelding, and Grant joined her as they maneuvered on foot down the slippery rocks to catch up with him.

As they descended, the mist billowed around them, making it difficult to see more than a few feet ahead. The sound of the water was deafening. She clung to Grant's arm for balance, his nearness igniting warmth that spread up her arm.

White Horse had nearly disappeared from sight, and she struggled to keep up with Grant's quick pace. Finally, they reached the base of the falls, where the pool of water looked dark through the mist.

White Horse had completely disappeared.