Chapter 16

Only the faint hint of light from the direction of the cave opening gave Grant a clue that morning might have come at last. The hard stone floor had offered little comfort, but that probably wasn't the only reason he'd struggled to stay asleep.

White Horse rose quietly from his bedding and padded out of the cave. Grant sat up too and glanced toward Steps Right. The older woman's even breathing continued, which was good. She probably needed the rest.

Near her, Faith stirred, then sat upright, her hand moving to the leather cord she wore around her neck. The soft light of the fire gave her an angelic glow, and her sleep-rumpled hair made her look so adorable. When she sent a tired smile toward him, his heart quickened.

Keeping himself from falling for her was becoming harder each day.

Perhaps he shouldn't help them take Steps Right back to the ranch. He was much closer to Will from this point. And White Horse would be capable of protecting the women. Faith would be there to see to her injury and needs.

Faith was already rising, moving to the cooking supplies. He'd noticed when he helped put things away last night that their stock of meat was getting low. This morning would be a good time to hunt, while the animals were out enjoying the cool air and the safety of the fog that often spread through the valleys.

He straightened his blankets, then pulled on his boots and rose as White Horse came back into the cave. Grant checked his rifle, then reached for his possibles sack to make sure he had enough bullets and powder.

Faith moved close enough to whisper. "What are you doing?"

"Going hunting." He secured the clasp on the bag and looped the strap over his neck.

"Can I come too?"

He met her gaze, which held far too much pleading. "Why?"

She glanced toward the cave opening. "It would be nice to get out."

He could certainly agree with that. Living in this darkness felt like a heavy blanket pressing on his chest. And if he decided not to accompany them to the ranch, this might be his last day with Faith before they went their separate ways. He would have to talk with her about that, but first, they could enjoy a final ride together. "Can you be ready soon?"

She nodded but didn't smile as she normally did. Was something bothering her? "I'm ready now." She looked to White Horse. "Will you be here with your mother?"

He'd settled against the back wall with his knife and the block of wood he'd started carving into a bowl last night. He looked up at her now and nodded.

Within minutes, Grant led Faith from the cave, along the ledge, then onto the bank and up the slope. The horses were already grazing in the cool morning air, so he and Faith quickly saddled and mounted, then started down a path that followed the river away from the falls.

As they rode, quiet settled between them. The undisturbed calm of the morning made it easier not to speak. But every time he looked toward Faith, the lines pressing her brow showed her mind was already churning.

What concerns muddled her thoughts so early in the morning? If there was anything he could do to ease her mind, he would. That would take his mind off the need to make a firm decision about leaving her.

As their path left the water's edge and wove through the pines, their horses were able to walk side by side. He took the chance to speak. "What do you think about Steps Right's situation?" He slid a glance toward her before focusing again on the trail. Hopefully a deer would wander from the trees, and he had to be ready.

Faith took a moment before responding, and when she did, her voice carried the same tension she wore on her face. "I'm worried." She paused, but then continued. "If we take Steps Right back to my sisters' ranch, will she be safe there, or will she bring the danger with her? Will White Horse go find Flies Ahead and end the threat once and for all? White Horse is a strong warrior, but against an entire village...?"

His question had released a dam. Like water tumbling over the falls, her words spewed out one after the other. "How will we manage the ranch without him? He's a partner, after all. And he accomplishes nearly as much work as the rest of us combined. Maybe we could handle things for a while, but when Juniper and Lorelei have their babies, I'm not sure Rosie, Riley, and I can do the training and everything else required."

Her voice dropped even lower. "And Steps Right's ankle ... is it only a sprain? How long will it take to mend? Is it only rest she needs, or something else? Could it be broken? If so, should we splint it before we start back to the ranch?"

The turmoil in her expression made his chest ache. He reined his horse closer to hers, reaching out to take her hand.

She lifted her brows at him, but then gave an effort toward a smile as she clasped his hand. That was Faith—smiling no matter how hard her struggle.

He gave a gentle squeeze. "We'll figure things out. Give it a little more time."

They found no deer after a half hour, so he turned them back toward the falls. Yet by the time they rode the horses up the slope to the grassy area at the top of the falls where White Horse's animal was tied, Grant couldn't bring himself to return to the darkness.

They tied their geldings to graze, then he pulled his rifle from the saddle and turned to walk to the river's edge. The water flowed faster here, rushing to cascade over the falls. The wind ruffled his hair, easing the unrest in his spirit.

Beyond the river, the mountains rose in rocky peaks, a few of the taller ones still spotted with snow in some of their crags. Before coming west, he'd never imagined a land could hold this much beauty, such a richness that captivated him.

"Do you want to walk upriver with me?" Faith's voice broke through his thoughts. The sound of it soothed him even more, yet her nearness tightened something in his middle.

She was such a beautiful woman, even after days on the trail. But it wasn't just her beauty that had become harder to resist with each passing day. She was so strong. So courageous. She made him want to be the same.

Made him want to open himself to love again. To risk the chance of loss and pain, for the possibility that they might not face those burdens. At least not for a long time. That they could experience joy and contentment.

But that was still the problem. When you loved someone, eventually that person would be wrenched away from you. Either now or when you were both gray and wrinkled—or any moment in between.

He couldn't stand another stripping away of everything he loved most.

He shook his head to dispel the thoughts. He couldn't let himself touch her. Especially if they were parting ways tomorrow. He had to keep his distance, had to keep his feelings in check.

She was still waiting for his answer, so he turned and started a slow walk upstream. She fell into step beside him. Thankfully, she left enough space between them their arms wouldn't accidentally brush. Still, his mind whirled with her nearness.

After a minute, Faith spoke. "What's your favorite memory with Will, besides when you two would look at stars?"

He slid a glance at her. That was a harder question than she might think. He had to think back, way back, to a different life. When he still had people who loved him. When the weight of the world hadn't yet settled on his shoulders.

A memory surfaced, a glimpse of a time he'd long ago forced from his thoughts. Bringing it back now felt like glass scraping his skin. But he forced himself. For Faith.

"We used to sneak into a neighbor's field, Will and me." He cleared his throat. "We would pretend to be wild horses, galloping around. I was always the lead stallion, and Will was my loyal follower. Sometimes we raced. I was faster, of course, since I was older. But when Will got frustrated, I let him win instead. We spent hours out there, running and laughing until our sides hurt."

He could almost feel the Missouri grass beneath his feet, could almost hear Will's laughter echoing in his ears. For a moment, he was back in that field, a young boy with dreams as big as the sky, with a brother who was his best friend and partner in any adventure.

For a moment, he was home.

Faith's eyes took on a gentle smile. "Lorelei and I used to pretend we were catching wild horses. She would doctor all their injuries, give them names, and care for them." She slid a look at him. "But I always imagined they were trying to run away from the ranch. I would have to ride after them and bring them back."

The mischievous gleam in her eyes made her so beautiful, he could barely stand the pain in his chest. What a picture she must have been as a girl, her hair flying in the wind while she chased imaginary horses, her laughter echoing through the fields.

They walked in silence another minute, and he worked to pull himself from the spell of that image. Back to the present, with the river flowing over rocks beside them, a woman at his side who understood him like no one else ever had, not even Gloria.

Sometimes it seemed Faith saw the parts of him he did his best to hide. But the biggest wonder was that his weaknesses didn't push her away. Instead, she pressed in harder.

That felt like a miracle ... if a person believed there was a God who cared.

He slid a look at her as a question wove through his mind. "Do you believe in God?" The moment the words came out, he wanted them back.

Especially when she turned toward him, a curious expression on her face. But her eyes didn't look condescending. Nor shocked. She looked like she was really contemplating her answer.

"I..." She hesitated, then gave a single nod. "Yes. I do believe in God."

She'd technically answered the question but told him nothing.

He dipped his chin. "And...?"

She gave him a wry smile. "And ... my parents took us to church. We prayed at meals. Prayed at bedtime. My sisters are all strong in their faith."

It seemed she wanted him to ask the obvious question, so he did. "And why don't you believe?"

She kept her focus ahead. "I do believe in God." Then she cut her gaze to him. "As I just said." The corners of her mouth twitched, but then she let out a long breath as she stared at the ground ahead. "I've tried, I really have. It's just that ... I don't feel Him the way my sisters do."

When she looked over at him, her eyes begged for understanding. "They talk about Him like He really hears. Like He cares what they say and responds to them. I still ask Him for help when something goes wrong, but ... I don't know if He doesn't care or if I'm not good at listening. I'm not sure I've ever heard an answer."

He knew exactly what she meant. Neither the Flagstones who took him in after his parents died nor Gloria's family had been religious. But he'd known a few people through the years—like the headmaster at school—who prayed like God really answered them.

He'd tried it once. That day the week before Christmas when he was fifteen, he came home to the Flagstones' home and found it empty. Boarded up, with not even a note saying where they'd gone.

He'd been fighting tears, with no notion what to do or who to ask. He sat down on the outside stairs and prayed the way Headmaster Lawton did. Asking the Almighty to show him what he should do next.

God hadn't answered.

So, Grant had picked himself up—as he always had to do—and went back to school. Headmaster Lawton let him stay for the Christmas holiday, and after a few inquiries, found that the Flagstones had moved to Springfield. They'd not felt it necessary to inform the school, though thankfully they'd already paid the remaining tuition for the spring term.

They hadn't taken the time to send Grant a note either. Not even a simple missive with their new address. They must not have wanted him to know where to find them. They must have wanted to be rid of the orphan boy they'd reluctantly taken in five years before.

He'd spent every moment of those next few months either studying or working odd jobs. Anything he could do to earn enough for the next year's tuition. If he wasn't allowed to stay at school, he'd have nowhere else to go.

And so went the next three years. By the end, he'd met and begun courting Gloria. They were both young. Too young.

She should have found someone far better than him. Her parents certainly felt so. But once they realized their daughter would accept no other outcome, Mr. Sistaire took Grant into his business. Grant had worked harder during those days than any other time in his life. He would prove himself to his future father-in-law.

After he and Gloria were married, her father made him a junior solicitor, with the promise of eventually becoming a partner in the firm.

That all changed the night Gloria came home ill from the party.

"Grant?"

Faith's voice tugged at him, pulling him from the downward swirl of memories. He forced himself to turn to her, his mind grappling for what had last been said.

Her sisters' faith. Right.

He swallowed to bring moisture back into his mouth. He couldn't let Faith become cynical and bitter like he was. She was everything good. Everything he couldn't be.

"Faith." Her blue eyes searched his, and he pressed on. "What your sisters have is real. It can be real for you too. I don't know how to find it, but I think if your heart is open . . . if you ask Him, God will be there. He'll answer you. It might not be in ways you expect, but it will be Him answering."

What madness was he spewing? He didn't even believe those words—at least they hadn't proven true in his own life. But Faith needed something to cling to. Maybe God would come through for her if she asked Him. She was good enough. Surely.

Her eyes glistened, and she nodded. "Thank you." Then she glanced behind her. "Should we turn back?"

Part of him didn't want to. He'd be happy walking with her the rest of the day, even if she asked hard questions of him. But White Horse and Steps Right would wonder about them. He certainly didn't want them thinking the worst.

As they turned toward the waterfall, Faith must have wanted to lighten the conversation. She sighed, and her voice took on a lighter tone. "I love rivers. The first time I saw you was beside a river." She raised a brow as she slid a look at him.

Was she teasing? That was a good sign. Maybe her worries had eased.

He snorted and returned the jab. "I was pulling you out of that river."

She wrinkled her nose. "I didn't fall in. I had a firm grip on the rock."

He shrugged. "Your hands might have been wrapped around a stone, but the rest of you dangled over the water. You'd have been swimming in less than a minute if I hadn't shown up."

She tipped her head at him, curiosity slipping into her gaze. "What were you doing there anyway? It was early in the morning."

The memory of that day slipped back through. "I'd come to the falls the night before, trying to get away from all the drinking and noise at the rendezvous. Ended up sleeping there. I saw you come that morning, but I didn't want to disturb you." He cut her a look. "I figured realizing you were alone in such a remote place with a strange man might be alarming."

A smile curved Faith's mouth. "Little did you know that wouldn't worry me overmuch."

A pang twisted in his chest. That was exactly the problem. And it meant he had to worry enough for both of them. Or rather, he needed to stand strong and keep his hands to himself.

But just as he prepared to step away from her, putting more distance between them to clear his head, Faith stopped and turned to him.

He reluctantly did the same. When she fixed those clear blue eyes on his, her earnest gaze seeing all the way to his soul, he couldn't summon enough moisture in his dry mouth to speak.

Her voice started tentatively. "Grant, I..." She paused, her throat working. Did her gaze just drop to his lips?

He had to clench his hands to keep from reaching out to pull her close. If only she knew how much she undid him—her words and everything else about her. But he couldn't let her know, or else he'd lose the last remnants of his control.

Her focus flicked up to his eyes again, and he could see her nervousness. Did she feel something for him? He'd thought it before. Maybe. But if it were actually true . . . if she experienced even a thread of the overwhelming pull that gripped every part of him...

When her gaze dipped to his mouth again and lingered there, his entire body heated, burning away his resolve. He reached for her...

...and she came to him.

He cupped her shoulders, savoring her warmth, relishing her beauty, the rich tan on her cheeks that proved her adventurous streak. He lowered his mouth, and she rose up to meet him partway.

Faith fought the nerves in her middle as she pressed her lips to Grant's. But then the warm intensity of his mouth took over, clearing every thought from her mind.

Dear sweet Rosa. This man filled her senses and overwhelmed every one of them. She lifted her hands to his chest, but they wouldn't stay there. They slid up to wrap around his neck, her fingers tangling in his wet hair. The taste of him was intoxicating, mixed with the wild scent of the trees that had brushed against him as they rode, and even a hint of smoke from that morning's campfire.

He slowed the kiss, though she was nowhere near ready to stop. Grant was so much more ... She couldn't string together enough words to finish that thought.

But the one thing she did comprehend clearly—oh so vividly—was that Grant admired her. As she did him.

He pulled back, just enough to allow them both to breathe. She inhaled gulps of air as his chest heaved too. She couldn't stop the smile that tugged her cheeks wide.

But then he eased a little farther back, enough that she could focus on his eyes. They weren't smiling. In fact, a touch of worry clouded their earnest depths. "I'm sorry if I took liberties I shouldn't have. I didn't mean ... I don't..."

He seemed to be struggling for words, and a flash of fear rose in her chest at what he might say if she let him continue. So she placed a finger on his lips, silencing him. "Don't apologize, Grant. I wanted that too."

Realization of what she'd just said surged the moment the words left her mouth. Heat flushed through her, and she cringed. "I mean..." She pulled back a little, wanting to cover her face with her hands.

He chuckled, and his hands rested on her upper arms, keeping her from going far. "It's nice to know the feeling is mutual."

She dared only a quick glance at his face, but the softness there eased some of her mortification. She let out a long breath, willing the embarrassment away. Letting herself rest in his hold, soaking in the chance to study his face—every handsome feature there.

His expression turned more sober again, but she didn't fear this time. She wanted to know what held him back. They could face it together if they spoke of it.

At last he said, "I told myself I wouldn't get close to anyone again. It's too hard to lose them." He didn't add but you're worth that risk. Which meant fear still held him too tightly.

Perhaps he only needed time. She could give him that.

So she pressed a hand to his chest, her palm flat against the warmth that rose through his shirt. She could feel a little of the pounding in his heart too. "We don't have to rush this. There's so much else happening. We can take time to see where we want this to lead."

He paused a moment, as though he wasn't sure he wanted to agree. But then he nodded. "You're right. There's a lot happening." He gave her arms a gentle squeeze, then released her. "You should get back before White Horse comes searching."

Before she could answer, a flash of movement in the trees upriver caught her focus. A deer?

The animal stepped from the brush toward the water, its ears flicking all directions for a threat.

Faith pressed a finger to her lips and pointed past Grant for him to look.

In a second, he'd raised his rifle and aimed. As much as she hated this part, they needed the meat. Their stores were running too low.

Faith turned away, preparing for the blast of the gun.

As Faith stepped into the cave an hour later, she raised her voice to signal her presence. "I've returned." The last thing she wanted was for White Horse to think her an intruder. The yawning darkness ahead swallowed her words, especially with the muffled pounding of the falls behind her.

When she rounded the curve in the corridor, the light of the campfire appeared ahead, and the noise of the water faded to a muffled hum. White Horse was helping his mother settle on the fur that had been her seat the day before.

Faith held up the bundle in her hands. "Grant got a deer. I've brought some of the hind meat, and he'll bring the rest when he's finished dressing it."

"Here." Steps Right motioned to the place beside her where she prepared food. "Make pemmican." She turned to her son and spoke a string of directions in Peigan.

White Horse moved to his packs, probably to retrieve supplies.

Faith crouched beside the woman and laid the meat on the work surface. Steps Right took up her knife as White Horse brought a pouch of dried berries.

Steps Right motioned toward the stone floor beneath Faith. "Sit. Help."

Comfortable silence settled around them while Steps Right began slicing the meat. Her gnarled fingers seemed to struggle with the task, though. There was no need for her to be uncomfortable when Faith sat idle.

"I can do that." Faith shifted forward again.

Steps Right studied her for a moment, then nodded and handed over the knife. "Cut thin. Then dry. Make powder. Add berries. Eat all winter." Faith nodded as she took over the task. White Horse said this food could last for months without spoiling.

As she sliced, her mind wandered to how many times the woman might have made pemmican in her life. Had she learned as a young girl, working with her mother and grandmother? Steps Right's knowledge and skills were a testament to her life and experiences, a legacy of survival and resilience.

The work was methodical—an easy way to lose track of time. The cave, once a place of mystery and uncertainty, now felt like a sanctuary, a place where she was learning not just how to make pemmican but also gaining a deeper understanding of Steps Right and her way of life.

The sound of footsteps echoed through the cave. That was Grant's stride. White Horse and Steps Right must have recognized it too, for neither looked worried about a stranger's approach. He stepped into the firelight, his arms laden with the rest of the deer meat.

"There." Steps Right motioned to where he should place his load. Then she pointed to his spot by the fire. "Sit."

Grant glanced at Faith with raised brows, but she only smiled at him. Steps Right possessed a straightforward manner, but it was refreshing now that she was growing accustomed to it.

As Grant settled on the stone, White Horse rose and strode toward the cave opening. He didn't say where he was going, and Faith almost called out to ask. If he'd wanted her to know, though, he would have said. Finding his mother and learning the truth of her situation might have unsettled him as much as it had Faith.

The fire crackled softly, casting shadows on the cave walls as Steps Right positioned the meat Grant had just brought and Faith began slicing it too.

The older woman broke the silence as she looked at Grant. "Who teach to hunt?" She regarded him as she waited for his answer.

Grant stared at her for a moment. Was he not sure what she meant? But then he spoke. "My father taught me when I was young."

A pang pressed in Faith's chest. No wonder he'd hesitated. Were those good memories? He'd been ten when his parents died, so he couldn't have had much time to learn the skill.

Steps Right nodded and continued to study him. Did she realize the question had probably raised a host of tangled emotions?

A twinkle slipped into her eyes. "My son hunt when young boy. Want father to teach. First hunt, find deer. Walk." She spread her arms wide and mimicked the motion of creeping quietly through the grass. "Ready shoot." She pretended to draw back on a bow. Then she squeezed her eyes shut like she was about to sneeze. "Achoo!" She opened her eyes and grinned. "Deer run. Hunt no good."

Faith chuckled, and even Grant smiled. It wasn't hard to imagine a young White Horse, disappointed and embarrassed by an untimely sneeze. She'd have to tease him about it when she had the chance.

Steps Right smiled in the memory for a long moment, then turned back to Grant. "Why come?" She motioned around them. She probably didn't mean to ask why he'd come to the cave. Maybe why he'd come to this land, so distant from the States?

He raised his brows. "Why did I come west? To this mountain country?"

Steps Right nodded.

Again, sadness touched his eyes. "I'm looking for my brother. Will Sheldon." He added on the last part like an afterthought, maybe to see if Steps Right had heard of him. That didn't seem likely, though.

But she straightened. "Will?" Her voice held pleasure.

"You know him?" Grant leaned forward.

Steps Right nodded. "I find sick. In snow."

Faith's heart had picked up so much speed, she strained to make sure she didn't miss anything over the pounding.

Grant seemed ready to push to his feet and start searching for his brother. But he voiced his questions instead. "When? Is he all right? Where is he?"

The older woman nodded. "I stay in cabin. Give the healing plants. He good man. Ask me to stay there." She shook her head. "I come to cave. Safe here." A twinkle slipped into her eye. "He bring food. Sit and talk."

Energy emanated from Grant's body through the air between them. "What did he say?"

Her gaze took on a distant expression as she looked toward the fire. "He tell when boy. Play in river." She motioned toward the cave opening and the water beyond. "With brother."

Grant nodded. "Yes. Near the mill. We swam and fished there all the time."

She nodded, her expression warming. "He speak of this. Say he fear water. Brother make him brave."

Warmth surged through Faith's chest, so strong it made her eyes burn. Hearing this had to give Grant hope.

He didn't answer for a few heartbeats, but when he did, his voice had gained determination. "Where is he now? I have to find him."

Again Steps Right nodded. "Cabin near river. One day to ride and come back."

Grant rose abruptly, pushing to his feet. "I'm going to see if White Horse needs help." His voice sounded tight, then he turned and strode out of the cave.

Unease churned in Faith's middle. She had to talk to Grant. He would want to go to Will. He was probably planning how to even now. She laid down the knife and meat. "I'll be back in a minute."

Rising, she made her way through the cave passage, then washed her hands in the waterfall. After following the ledge, she jumped to the bank just in time to see Grant's retreating back as he climbed the hill toward the horses. "Grant, wait." She hurried after him.

He stopped and spun around, his face tight. "I have to find Will." He held up his fingers an inch apart. "I'm this close to him. I have to go today. Now."

A wave of panic washed through her. He couldn't go by himself. Should she go with him? But she couldn't, not if she and White Horse were going to leave tomorrow morning to take Steps Right back to the ranch. Would White Horse delay another day?

She sucked in a breath through the weight on her chest. "Wait." Her voice shook a little. "We need to talk to White Horse."

Without a pause, Grant turned and yelled up the hill. "White Horse!" His voice thundered loud enough to rise above the waterfall. Did he know for sure the man was up there?

Apparently so, for White Horse appeared at the top of the hill, his figure silhouetted against the blue sky behind him. He strode toward them, leaping over some of the rocks, his face set in a scowl. When he came close enough, he barked, "Quiet. Do not bring danger."

Grant didn't answer, but he waited for White Horse to reach them before speaking again. "My brother is close." He bit the words. "Your mother said only a half-day's ride away. I have to go find him."

Faith ventured her question. "Could we wait here an extra day? Maybe Grant can find his brother and bring him back here. Then we can all go back to the ranch together." Even as she spoke the words, their naiveté rang in her ears. Who was she to Grant's brother to stop his life and come to the ranch just because she wanted him to? She, a person Will had never met or ever heard of?

White Horse stood silent for a long moment, his gaze shifting between Grant and Faith. His dark eyes were even harder to read now than usual. Then he met Faith's eyes. "I must get my mother to safety." His voice carried the weight of a thousand unspoken words. "She is hurt. Flies Ahead will come again." Then his focus moved to Grant. "We will give you the direction of the ranch. You can come when you are ready."

Grant nodded. "I will." Then he turned toward the slope where the horses grazed at the top. "I have to go. There's no time to waste."