Chapter 20

Grant wanted to shout his frustration as he stared at the ground in front of them. He didn't yell, of course, only allowed himself a low growl. How could the tracks simply fade away?

He and White Horse had been searching for hours today, in addition to what they'd been able to accomplish last night before darkness fell. They'd had to move ridiculously slow with every step, since the men had taken such care to conceal signs of their passing.

The prints had disappeared several times along the way, but White Horse always picked them up a little farther ahead. The two who'd taken Faith and Steps Right hadn't kept a perfectly straight path—few could with all these trees—but they'd kept moving in the same general direction.

Just before they lost the trail, the route had seemed to curve a little. Was it because the captors were preparing to circle back to their camp, somewhere much closer to the waterfall? Or had they simply been riding with the lay of the land?

This time, though, no matter how much farther he and White Horse rode, they couldn't find the tracks again.

"There is a ridge ahead." White Horse pointed to the left where a rocky spire rose slightly higher than the trees. "Maybe we see from above."

That might be their best option. Grant sighed and nudged his gelding forward. "Let's try it."

As they rode up the hill, the horse's hooves clattered on loose rocks. The slope steepened, with boulders perched too close together for their animals to pass, so he and White Horse dismounted and climbed higher on foot. At the top of the ridge, Grant stood beside White Horse as they both stared out over the terrain.

Treetops spread out before them, a mass of lodgepole pine branches covering the gentle slope down. The green stopped as the land flattened into a wide valley. That might be a stream winding through the middle. Beyond the grassland rose a mountain with trees dotting its base. The cliffs climbed steeply into a peak far higher than the one on which they stood.

He shifted his focus back to the trees in front of them, searching for any sign of movement or presence of a person. He strained, tracking his gaze out over the valley, then scanned as far as he could up the far slope.

"Look." White Horse pointed to a place just below their vantage point. Through the branches, a spot of brown moved.

Grant held his breath as he focused on the motion, working to make out shapes. That looked like the brown of a horse, but ... where was the rider?

The animal below shifted, revealing a flash of tan at one end. A set of ... antlers? Near the animal, another spot of brown appeared.

Grant's heart sank. "I think they're deer. Two of them. Maybe more."

White Horse nodded, and Grant started his visual search over again, this time moving from his left all the way to his far right. He'd just about scanned the entire area when White Horse straightened beside him. He must be ready to go back for the horses and search again.

But instead he turned to Grant. "We need to pray."

Those weren't at all the words he'd expected.

White Horse closed his eyes without hesitation. Was he going to pray aloud? Should Grant bow his head too? Headmaster Lawton had always required it as a sign of respect.

A tiny part of him wondered if White Horse would be praying to the same God the headmaster had. They were such different men. And didn't the Natives worship things like the sun and moon? Even though White Horse had learned to pray to God Almighty, he might still cling to his old religion too.

White Horse spoke in a voice that held quiet strength. "Creator God. Our Father. Give us vision. Protect this sister. Protect my mother. Take us to them. I pray through Jesus, the Son who did no bad thing."

The words were different from the long-winded petitions Headmaster Lawton had spoken, but every bit as earnest.

Grant desperately wanted these same things White Horse had asked, so he added his own "Amen."

White Horse lifted his head and met Grant's gaze. "The great God knows where they are. We ask Him to show us. We ask Him to fight this battle for us and bring victory."

He held Grant's focus for a long minute—a minute in which he seemed to be trying to infuse his solid faith into Grant.

Part of him wished that could happen. That he could find the certainty this man possessed that God would answer. That the Almighty would make the way plain and bring them success. God, how do I find that?

There was no answer. He shouldn't have expected a voice to boom from heaven.

But still, an ache rose up in his throat. God, if you're up there. Keep Faith and Steps Right safe. Help us find them. Let them know we're coming.

Helplessness hung heavy around him like a smothering blanket. What more could they do?

"The great God knows where they are. We ask Him to show us."

White Horse's words slipped back through his mind. Show us then, God. Take us to them. His eyes burned, and he no longer had the strength to hold back the tears. If you're real, take me to Faith right now.

Don't come, Grant. Please, don't come.

It was hard to tell how much of Faith's clenched belly came from sitting all day in the August sun with no food and little water, or whether her middle had twisted into a knot from hours of watching Flies Ahead and Crooked Knife sit at their lookout perches. Each man kept guard with his rifle across his lap, hands positioned on the weapon so they could easily lift and aim whenever Grant and White Horse approached.

Flies Ahead had said he wanted the men to watch while he tortured and killed her and Steps Right. But had he changed his mind and decided to punish the two of them by making them watch Grant and White Horse die? She wouldn't be able to bear it.

Don't come, Grant. Both of you, stay away.Maybe Flies Ahead would reveal when they were approaching and she could call out to warn them.

She was so weary, her eyelids begged to let her fade to oblivion. But she made herself keep steadily breathing, doing her best to stay alert for any opportunity to warn the men.

She'd made peace with that fact that she would probably die soon. Made peace with the God who saw her, even in this remote mountain country. She was a tiny dot too small to show on a map of this massive mountain wilderness, but God saw her and had a good plan for her.

Even now, she could feel the peace of His presence. The warmth of the Father's arms wrapped around her. She would be content if she were taken from this world to be forever with Him.

But Grant...

I don't think he knows you, Lord. Don't let these men kill him. He needs time. Needs someone to show him the truth about you.

If only she'd done that when she had the chance. Grant had encouraged her faith more than she'd nurtured his. What had he said? "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. Every time. It might not be in ways you expect, but it will be Him answering."

How could he say those things if God's love wasn't real for him? Yet she'd gotten the feeling Grant thought God was for others, not for himself. Maybe he thought the Almighty looked past him. Show him the truth, Lord. Don't let him be lost.

A shuffling sounded from somewhere through the trees, and she forced her eyes to focus. Both men jumped to their feet, and Flies Ahead raised his rifle against his shoulder. But he didn't squint down the barrel to aim, just kept watching the trees beyond their camp.

Grant and White Horse must be approaching. If it was the other man who'd come with Flies Ahead, they wouldn't be aiming guns at him.

She needed to warn them somehow. She strained against her bindings as she scanned the supplies littering the camp. Even if there was something she could use as a weapon or to signal Grant and White Horse, she couldn't get free to reach it.

Flies Ahead shifted, then began to back away from his position, moving into the camp. He still kept his rifle against his shoulder, even raising it more so he'd be able to aim easily.

Crooked Knife looked over at him, a question in his gaze. She couldn't see Flies Ahead's expression well, but he must have signaled for Crooked Knife to move back with them. What were they planning?

The answer came clear within seconds as the men came to stand on either side of her and Steps Right. Crooked Knife halted on Faith's left, and Flies Ahead positioned himself on the other side of the older woman.

Both kept their guns pointed at the source of the rustling sounds.

Her throat tightened so much she couldn't swallow or breathe. Whoever approached would see the two braves first. Would they be able to react quickly enough once they realized they were walking into an ambush?

She would have to alert them.

Sounds had begun to drift through the trees beyond the camp. Horses snorting and saddles squeaking. They were close enough they would hear a yell. She had to act.

She sucked in a breath and shouted, "Don't come farther! It's a trap!"

Flies Ahead whipped around, leaping in front of Steps Right to aim his gun at Faith. "Quiet!"

At least that protected Steps Right a little, drawing the weapon away from her. Crooked Knife had also pointed his rifle at Faith. She'd never felt so vulnerable, strapped to this tree with two powerful guns pointed at her.

She was going to die, but she wouldn't let anyone else come with her, if she could help it. Not until she knew they were ready to meet the Lord.

She screamed again, "Get away, Grant. It's a trap! Turn and run." At least her yelling was distracting Flies Ahead from whatever attack he'd planned for the men.

Flies Ahead pressed the rifle barrel against her temple. As cold steel pressed hard into her skin, out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a person breaking through the trees.

But the hard push of metal that bent her neck forced her focus fully on the man nearest her. She had to look from the side of her gaze to see his face, his eyes wild now instead of the cold calculation of before. Was it better or worse that he seemed to have lost his self-control?

She wasn't afraid of him. Nor of death.

She sucked in a small breath. "Run, Grant! Get away from here. Go!" She knew it was him. Every part of her could feel his presence. White Horse was likely there too, but Grant led the charge into camp.

She couldn't look at what they were doing. Couldn't take her eyes off this madman who might well end her life with his next breath.

"Drop the gun." Grant's voice called across the open space, cold and hard with fury.

Flies Ahead's eyes flared wide in a vicious glare. "No."

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me.

The verse she'd memorized as a child wrapped around her like a hedge of protection from the man. Father, be with me. I will fear no evil for you are with me.

Flies Ahead's grin faltered. Maybe because she didn't show the terror he'd hoped for?

"Drop rifle or I kill." He snarled the words, flicking his gaze between her and the two men she could just see at the corner of her vision. A tremble quivered through him. She might not have felt it except for the steel-encased explosive connecting her head to his hands.

She scrambled for another verse in the recesses of her mind. For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways.

Keep me from fear, Father. Give me peace in you.

"Sit. Or I shoot her." Flies Ahead's voice rose higher than before.

She wanted to squeeze her eyes closed so she didn't have to watch this man in her last moments. But she couldn't sit by and let this killer hurt anyone else.

Summoning a final scrap of courage, she made her voice as level and strong as she could manage with the steel barrel still pressed hard against her temple. "Don't do anything he says."

Even as she spoke the words, she knew Grant wouldn't obey them. He would try to save her. "I mean it, Grant." She had to speak through clenched teeth so she didn't shift her head and make Flies Ahead accidentally pull the trigger. "This isn't worth it. Leave and stay away from him. For me. Please."

If she went this way, she at least wanted to die knowing she'd saved his and White Horse's lives. Steps Right too.

But no ... really she wanted to die knowing she'd helped save them all eternally. Yes, Lord. White Horse and Steps Right already knew the true God. But Grant...

Talking was easier now that she'd begun, so she continued in that strong voice, though she kept her gaze on Flies Ahead. "Grant, you were right when you said that if I asked God for help, He would be there. He's with me now, giving me strength."

She breathed in a bit of that strength and continued. "But what you need to know is that He loves you too. More than you can possibly imagine. You don't have to do anything to be worthy of it. He already thinks you're worth everything. Worth His love. Worth His son dying so He could show you exactly how much He loves you. You only have to open yourself enough to receive that love. He won't take it away either. Not like everything else you've lost."

Including me.The thought nearly made a sob slip out. If he felt half as much for her as she did him, watching her die would be one more hard blow. She had to do everything she could to ease the strength of it. To give him hope.

She sucked in enough breath to keep talking. "There's something else you need to know, Grant." Her voice quavered, but she had to get these words out. "I love you. I have for weeks now. I think ever since you kept my secret with the trappers. You're a good man, Grant Allen. The best of men. I made peace with God, just like you said to. I'll be going to heaven. I want more than anything to see you there."

Grant spoke then, his words not aimed at her, his voice hard and unyielding. "Get away from her. Both of you." His footsteps scuffed the ground as he walked toward them.

Faith couldn't breathe. She didn't want this to happen. Didn't want to be saved at Grant's expense. At anyone's expense.

Yet maybe once Flies Ahead took the rifle away, she could do something to stop his revenge for good.

As Grant came within arm's reach, he extended a hand for the rifle.

Flies Ahead snarled at him. "Do not come closer."

She had to do something. Her hands were tied, but not her feet. With Flies Ahead looking at Grant, she might be quick enough to stop him. She wouldn't be able to take out the other brave too, but maybe this would distract him just long enough.

Without letting it show on the outside, she took in a deep breath, tensed her legs, then thrust her boots out at Flies Ahead's kneecaps with every bit of force she could muster. As he stumbled backward, she kicked one foot upward into the softer part of his middle.

His grunt sounded just before his rifle exploded.

Gunpowder clouded the air as the blast reverberated through the camp and the valley beyond.

Then a scream of pain overwhelmed the echo of the report.

Who'd been shot? God, let them live. Please let them live.

Something flew at her from her right, striking a blow that clanged through her head. Too much like the pain from when she first woke up tied to this tree.

Movement swarmed around her. But the pain and flashes of light that consumed her focus couldn't keep up with it all.

Grant's shout sounded through the pain ricocheting through her skull. But she couldn't make out the words.

Was that another scream of pain?

Or maybe the blast of a rifle.

She couldn't stand the ringing.

Her mind couldn't contain the chaos and agony.

She tried to press her hands to her head, but she was falling.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

Another blow slammed into the back of her head.

Then it all faded to black.