Chapter 18

As the sun dipped low in the sky, casting long shadows across the banks of the river, Grant pulled back on his reins, bringing the sweating gelding to a halt. He slipped to the ground, then led the horse to drink.

"Rest a minute, boy." He patted the animal's neck as it drank greedily.

His own belly rumbled for food, so he moved to the back of his saddle and loosened the straps of the saddlebag. As he rummaged for the pack of dried meat Faith had sent with him, his fingers finally found the rough leather of the case. He pulled it out, but this wasn't the buckskin wrapping he'd expected.

His mind scrambled for what this small, unfamiliar pouch might be. Its long cord was tied like a necklace, but it had come undone on one end. He'd definitely never seen this. Was it something of Faith's or White Horse's that had gotten mixed with his things?

He loosened the strings to open it and peered inside. Blue crystal beads lay nestled within, and his breath caught. Was this the special necklace Faith had brought to give back to Steps Right?

He reached two fingers into the pouch to pull it out but stopped before he touched the beads. Maybe he shouldn't. If he'd somehow taken it away from her, he had to bring it back. Now.

Carefully, he gripped one of the beads and lifted it. A long string of blue crystals pulled out of the pouch, and he rested them across his hand. This was definitely the necklace. It had to be.

His clumsy fingers trembled as he lifted it back into the pouch. It would be just his luck to break the strand before he could get it back to Faith.

How in the world had it gotten in his saddle pack? She hadn't put it there on purpose, had she? No, that didn't make a bit of sense. Her entire reason to search so hard for Steps Right was to give this heirloom back to the woman. She wouldn't let it out of her possession until that was accomplished.

Once he'd pulled the pouch tightly closed, he tucked it back in the bottom of his saddlebag. The gelding had finished drinking, so he mounted again, then turned the animal back the way they'd come. "We have a delivery to make first. Then we'll find Will."

It would be close to dark by the time he made it back to the cave, though. He would have to wait until morning to start again. Disappointment pressed in his chest, but he pushed the feeling aside.

If Faith had realized she'd lost the necklace, she would be frantic. Stopping her distress was more than worth the delay. In fact, if he were honest with himself, the chance to see her again lightened his spirit.

The ride back seemed to take longer than the first time he traveled this path. But as they neared the cave, his gelding slowed even more. Grant let him ease to a walk, but the horse seemed tense. Its ears twitched, and its nostrils flared.

"Easy there, boy." He ran a soothing hand along the gelding's neck. But even as he sought to calm his mount, apprehension settled like a shroud over his own shoulders.

Dusk had fallen heavily, and the familiar landscape now felt fraught with shadows. In twenty strides, he would ride out of the woods and see the waterfall in the distance. He could already hear the murmur of its thunder. Maybe that's what made his horse uneasy.

Something shifted among the trees ahead, near the edge of the forest. He tensed, reaching for the rifle tucked in its scabbard. He should have had it across his lap. But as he was pulling the weapon out, a figure appeared in the evening light.

He lifted the barrel just as recognition slipped in. White Horse.

Grant breathed out, his heart thundering far too fast as he lowered the gun to rest across his legs.

White Horse raised a finger to his lips and strode toward Grant. The worry crept back into his gut, but he kept silent as he nudged his gelding faster. When they reached him, Grant slipped to the ground to face the other man.

"My mother and Faith are gone." White Horse spoke quietly, but his words struck Grant like he'd shouted.

"Gone? Where? How?" Steps Right had barely walked since they first found her. How could she and Faith leave? And why would White Horse allow it?

Why would Faith leave while Grant was gone? Hadn't she told him to come back here? To bring his brother? That long ago pain crashed in, bringing a deluge of darkness.

Just like the Flagstones. Promising to be there, then gone.

"Taken." White Horse spoke again, and Grant forced himself to pull from that dark place to focus on the words.

Taken? What did he mean? He studied White Horse's expression for a hint. The worry there was impossible to miss.

Taken. Faith and Steps Right?

The reality jolted him fully out of the heavy cloud, back to clearer thinking. "Who did it? The man Steps Right was hiding from?"

"Only a few tracks, but I think Flies Ahead and another." White Horse scanned their surroundings. "They rode into river. I look for more sign."

Anger surged through him as his mind raced, conjuring images of Faith in danger, her blue eyes wide with fear.

"How did they get close?" He didn't want to cast guilt on the man, not when he'd already shown he would go to great lengths to protect both women.

White Horse met his gaze. "Faith could not find the pouch she wore around her neck. I went to search the place she thought she lost it."

Grant's chest tightened. "Did it hold the blue bead necklace? I found it in my saddlebag. That's why I came back. I don't know how it got there, but I knew she'd worry." How could such a simple mishap lead to something so awful?

See, God? This is exactly why I can't trust you. How could you let this happen?

White Horse was already moving past him, toward the river. "I search for tracks."

Grant called quietly after him, "Should I look on the other side of the river?" That way they could move faster and be more certain they weren't missing a vital clue.

"Get my horse first. Then come to me."

"All right." Grant turned back to his gelding and swung into the saddle.

God, this would be a good time to make up for letting us all down. Help us find Faith and Steps Right. Don't let Flies Ahead hurt them.

Faith moaned against the pounding in her head as she fought to pull from sleep. The side of her scalp burned, and she reached up to feel the spot. Her fingers touched something wet, and the contact made the ache splitting her skull hammer even harder.

She groaned again, trying to push through the pain and open her eyes. When she finally succeeded, the world swam before her. Dark, but with a bright light blinding her. She blinked several times to clear her vision.

This darkness was the dim light of night, and the brightness came from a campfire. Her arms ached, and she tried to shift them to a more comfortable position. They wouldn't move. That's when her cloudy mind finally came alive.

She was tied.

She sat upright against a narrow tree, her hands bound behind it. The rough bark pressed against her back, and a root poked her bottom.

As her vision cleared, she caught sight of a figure nearby. Steps Right sat against another tree, a little more than an arm's length away. Her head rested to the side, the light from the campfire shining on her closed eyes.

Faith's heart picked up speed. She wasn't dead, was she?

As Faith strained for signs of movement, she finally caught the slow raising and lowering of her shoulders as she breathed. Asleep, then. Or maybe unconscious, as Faith had been.

Her chest tightened, and she turned her focus to the shadows around the campfire. Two men sat at the edge of its light. One was the brave who'd spoken to Steps Right back at the mouth of the cave, then attacked her.

Just beyond him sat Flies Ahead. His face was marked with black paint like the other man, but he was too familiar not to recognize. Maybe it was the expanse of his shoulders and the way he held himself like he was in charge.

He would be chief one day, after all. Or maybe he already was. Had his grandfather died in the three years since she and her sisters had gone to their village looking for Steps Right?

She flicked her gaze around the area once more to look for the other man, the one who'd grabbed her. No sign of him. Maybe he was standing guard in the shadows or had been sent on an errand.

White Horse. Her stomach clutched. Had they gone back to find him? Maybe Flies Ahead had more men, a group strong enough to overpower White Horse.

She pulled harder at her wrists, testing the strength of the cord that bound them. What did White Horse think when he came back and found her and his mother missing? Did he recognize signs of the struggle? He was an excellent tracker, so hopefully he'd find prints from the men.

She struggled to remember what had happened after the brave grabbed her. She'd fought him as he carried her along the ledge. She'd seen that quick glimpse of the other man grabbing Steps Right. Then her captor had started carrying her over the boulders toward the grass. She couldn't grasp any memories after that. Maybe that was when he'd knocked her unconscious.

The reminder made the ache at the side of her head spring alive again. Maybe he'd knocked her against the rock wall to stop her fighting.

She looked to Steps Right again. Had they done the same to her? Faith's belly roiled. A woman of her age, already injured ... how badly had they hurt her?

Steps Right's face didn't look in pain, only lifeless as she slept. God, please let her wake soon. Maybe she would know how to get out of this. Perhaps she could bargain with Flies Ahead.

The men by the fire were speaking softly in their own language, so Faith couldn't understand. But she studied them, trying to make out any clues from their body language and tone. They seemed relaxed, as if they had all the time in the world.

Steps Right shifted, drawing Faith's focus back to her. Her eyes were open, though her head still rested at an angle. Her gaze met Faith's, but it was impossible to tell what she was thinking or feeling. Maybe she was trying to make sense of what was happening, as Faith had when she first woke up.

Slowly, Steps Right lifted her head, easing her shoulders so she could see the men without straining. Could she hear them well enough to understand their words? Probably.

Waiting was hard as she allowed Steps Right time to listen and think. But what else could they do? Speaking to each other would bring Flies Ahead's attention on them, which couldn't be good.

Surely White Horse was coming. She just had to make sure the men didn't hurt Steps Right until then.