Chapter 2

"It won't be that long before it melts open," Jake said. He didn't say ‘before it melts open, stupid,' but Kat heard it anyway. She'd bet Sebastian heard it, too.

In fact, probably everyone in their small circle heard it as they stood in front of the wall of snow. To the north, the canyon was green, the fruit trees were blooming. They were already eating spring onions and asparagus. Their Angus cattle had added generously to the herd with their silky-black babies. Two of the horses had foaled, the cat had a litter of kittens, and the dog, to everyone's surprise, a litter of puppies. There were piglets, and the hens had hatched out eggs.

The cabin stood, sturdy and warm, down the slope from them. A new barn was close behind it. They'd built a tidy little chicken coop and a pigpen. Oscar had worked with all of them, Kat included, to teach them the skills they'd need to survive in the West.

Kat now knew how to chop down a tree, cut the corners so the logs would latch together. She could build a chimney with a fireplace out of native stones, put a roof on a building and windows and doors.

There was a corral that stretched away from the barn, with three milk cows grazing quietly, each with a baby calf at her side.

It was a glorious, fertile, beautiful Eden-like place.

Kat supposed that made her Eve, dragging Seb-Adam into trouble. Except they were dragging each other, now, weren't they? God had stayed with Adam and Eve after their fall, so Kat expected her heavenly Father would help her along, too.

"We need to get married."

She'd heard Seb say that, hadn't she? Right after they'd sort of paused in their ranting and locked eyes and quit thinking.

"I've decided I no longer want to live in this canyon, cut off from the world." Sebastian sounded calm, reasonable, like he'd come to a decision after careful consideration.

Kat had yet to speak up that she was going with him. And she most certainly wasn't going to marry him.

Or should she?

She could hardly ride off with him alone. But Beth was very pregnant. She wasn't about to go for a long ride.

Why was Kat feeling so trapped? Was it possible that having been locked up for a year, this was a little too similar? Not that she was mistreated, as she had been in the asylum, but just not being given a choice. No free will. There were some unfortunate similarities.

The Lord worked in mysterious ways. Kat prayed fervently, deep in her heart, that the Lord would help her dig out of the canyon. She knew being shut in wasn't right for her.

Yet her uncle was out there, wandering, controlling her company, spending her money. He'd delight in locking her safely away again. Not safely for her, but for him.

"We need to get married."

If she was married, her uncle wouldn't be able to lock her up. Except, to her understanding, he shouldn't have been able to lock her up anyway. As her uncle, he had no authority over her. It was only wives who could be locked in asylums, with just a husband's word claiming his wife was mad.

What a stupid law.

And she was in no way seriously considering that strange statement about marriage from Seb. He was under great pressure to escape this canyon after all. He couldn't be held responsible for the words that came out of his mouth. Wouldn't stepping into a marriage in such a reckless way be yet another sort of prison?

She wondered if speaking words that sounded like lunacy, suggesting actions like marriage that were lunacy, proposing to dig a hole in a mountain of snow because you felt trapped to the point of lunacy didn't fit the definition of insanity.

But she'd been locked in a madhouse and had seen plenty of poor souls who were very clearly insane. And she wasn't that.

She drew a deep breath, determined to tell them she was going with Sebastian, when Beth clutched her stomach and looked frantically at Jake. "I think the baby is coming."

Sebastian sat on a rock, watching Jake pace back and forth, a wild look in his eyes. He'd tried to stay with Beth, but finally had been ejected from the cabin. "I need to be in there. This is my responsibility." Back and forth. Back and forth. "Saying a father shouldn't be with his wife while his child is born is the most half-witted thing I've ever heard of. How did that tradition get started?"

Oscar leaned out over the spring, watching the waterfall cascade into the canyon, then flow through the entire pasture. "I think they were planning to let you stay until you started threatening Kat."

"She's not a doctor. What is she even doing in there?"

"You heard her say her pa was a doctor," Sebastian said, "and that she helped him a lot, including delivering babies. She's a lot closer to a doctor than you are. You shouldn't have grabbed Kat and shook her."

The sun was low in the sky. The labor had started midmorning. How long would this take?

"I didn't shake her hard. I just wanted her to pay attention to Beth." Back and forth, hands clasped behind his back. A look of stark terror on his face. "What if something goes wrong?"

"Then Ginny dragged you away from Kat, who, praise the Lord, you had the sense not to shake Ginny." Oscar shook his head as he watched a trout glide by. The man was calm as the clear Idaho sky. As steady as the Sawtooth peaks. As focused on fish as a hungry eagle ready to go into a killing dive.

Oh. Seb saw it now. Oscar wasn't all that calm. Beth, the woman he treated more like a daughter than her own father did, had him worried down to his toenails. He was just a lot better at hiding it than Jake.

Sebastian had brought a knife and a piece of walnut and was trying his hand at whittling. He'd about cut his finger off three times now ... and the stick of wood looked nothing like the dog he'd hoped to create.

At that, their dog came running up with six puppies tumbling and scrambling behind her. Six dogs. Seven counting the mama. What were they going to do with seven dogs in this canyon?

"And Ginny, your mother-in-law, who loves you as much as if you were her own son, kicked you out and threw the latch so you couldn't get back in. Which you tried to do, front door and back."

"Ma's got a mean streak I've never noticed before." Jake glared at the house.

Joseph sat cross-legged on the grass, reading his Bible, though Seb couldn't think when he'd last turned a page. He set the book down, dropped his face into both hands, and rubbed.

"You know, your child is going to have the blood of Thaddeus Rutledge flowing in his veins. He'll also be heir to the Rutledge empire back in Chicago." Sebastian found a strange pleasure in torturing the usually calm and capable man who'd helped lead their wagon train west and never seemed unsettled. Now Jake couldn't stop pacing, looking up at the cabin, then pacing again.

"No son of mine is going to grow up to be like Thaddeus Rutledge."

Seb sure hoped not. Though Seb had never met Thaddeus, he'd heard plenty. The man was awful. But where was the fun in admitting that?

Oscar, who'd worked in the Rutledge stables before he'd helped Ginny and Beth escape, knew Thaddeus Rutledge as well as anyone. "He owns property in Chicago, miles of it. Much of it is covered with apartments overcrowded with poor folk who have nowhere else to go. I heard tell of one tenement building where they'd gone in and taken rooms with ten-foot ceilings and cut them down to being five-foot high and forced folks to live like that. And he owns factories with children working at dangerous jobs. Carpet mills with looms and metalworks with molten iron splashing around, filled with workers making no more than a penny a day."

Oscar looked away from the fish, his eyes hard on the house. Then he tore them away and turned to Jake. "Blayd and his men went around collecting rents from folks who could barely feed themselves. That's a lot of valuable property Beth will someday own. Beth and your youngsters.

"Blayd, Rutledge's top henchman, did plenty of dirty work for his boss."

"Yep, Blayd was there with Rutledge last fall." Jake quit pacing. "That Pinkerton shot him dead when he was aiming to kill Yvette."

Sebastian had heard all about it. Blayd had died last fall when Rutledge, chasing after Ginny, had caught up with Beth and trouble exploded.

So Blayd had died, and Rutledge was stabbed nearly to death by a fragile woman, who was also from the asylum where Ginny had been locked away, and who had led Rutledge west using remembered information she wouldn't share unless he took her along.

"Neither Beth nor my youngsters will inherit a cent. Surely he'll cut her off for smirking at him last fall and calling him Pa."

"That might be enough," Oscar conceded, sneaking a glance at the cabin. "Although a rumor I heard whispered said Rutledge bought too much, borrowed too heavily, and is badly overextended. If things keep on as they are, he'll end up being one of the richest men in the country. But if we have one of those financial collapses that strike the country now and then, he could be in real trouble. That's why he wants Ginny and Beth back—more than pride, more than just a man who will not be thwarted. They're both heiresses, and Ginny's folks were wise in how they set up trust funds, so that Thaddeus had no access to them."

Joseph huffed a humorless laugh. "So your son might end up inheriting a bankrupt estate from old Grandpappy Rutledge? Hope that bankruptcy happens soon."

"Blayd is dead and buried. I wonder if Rutledge survived his injuries?" Jake asked. It was the first time in a long time he'd thought of anything but his wife and his coming baby.

Seb didn't figure it'd last. But then he thought of a way to extend the distraction. "When I leave, I'll see if I can find any news of Rutledge in the papers. If he died, surely that would get mentioned. If he lived, there's bound to be some mention of some big deal he's a part of."

"And then what?" Jake snapped. "You'll mail us a letter?"

"I could mail one to the O'Tooles. You might call on them from time to time, and just maybe I'll stop by for a visit. I'm not sure where I'm headed." Kat hadn't mentioned her intention to go with him, so he didn't include her. It was her news to tell. "I need a good-sized town with dependable lawmen and access to a train. I might go to Texas, settle near Dallas. But that's a mighty long way from here. Maybe California or even Laramie, Wyoming, or Cheyenne. They might have what I need. My invention is—" He cut off the sentence and looked up. All four men were watching.

"You've never told us just what you're inventing, Seb. We could use a story about now. Good chance the news won't reach the wrong ears from anyone here. Besides, you have our word we won't tell anyone, and that oughta be good enough for you."

Seb looked at them. Jake stopped pacing. Oscar stopped counting trout. Joseph stopped rubbing his face.

Their word was good enough for him, so that wasn't the reason he talked about his invention. Instead, he decided to talk about it just because it was keeping their minds off the dramatic event inside the cabin.

"Thank heavens you got him out of here." Beth breathed slowly while Ginny wiped her brow with a cool cloth.

Kat smiled at her courageous friend. The three of them—Ginny, herself, and most especially Beth—had been at the laboring awhile now. There wasn't much to it until the baby was ready to emerge. Kat had boiled water, which she kept off to the side, sterilized and ready, with a string and a pair of scissors in the hot water, also perfectly clean. That water and those supplies were not to be touched until they were ready to be used.

They had a thick pad of blankets under Beth and clean ones ready if they needed to be replaced. Birthing a baby could be messy.

Kat was calm, while Ginny was anxious—holding herself together through sheer endurance.

Beth was exhausted, but there was no way she got to leave, so Kat expended her energy to distract her and keep her as comfortable as possible.

"I had just one child." Ginny leaned down, replaced the cool cloth with a kiss on Beth's damp brow. "One perfect birth. I had no great liking for the process and was glad enough it never happened again."

"And Father didn't try to insist he stay with you through the birth?"

Ginny snorted. "As far as I am aware, he came home from work, late as usual, and if he noticed he had a child now, he made no mention of it."

"Why only one child, Ginny?" Kat knew Ginny had no liking for her husband, but that didn't usually stop the babies from coming.

Ginny shrugged. "I don't know. Beth was born before we'd been married a year. I already knew my marriage was never going to be a happy one. But a wife does her duty. Thaddeus for the most part lost interest in me and Beth. I suppose he went to other women, but I'm not even sure of that. He used my dowry to enrich himself and was so obsessed with work that he was gone before I woke up, and he didn't come home until late at night."

Beth, between labor pains, said, "We rarely saw him." Then with an eye roll, she added, "And when we did, we wished he'd go away."

"I won't say another baby wasn't possible, but he rarely came to me in that way. A man like Thaddeus, well, you'd assume he'd want sons to run his business and just to make him feel like a—" Ginny hesitated, then shrugged—"like a big successful man who could bring sons into the world. I suppose he thought he could live for all eternity or take the money with him somehow."

Beth choked on a laugh, then giggled helplessly. "I suspect he thought both of those things. The world worked as Father commanded."

Her breath caught. Her hands went to her belly. Kat rested a gentle hand high on her stomach. "They're coming so close, it won't be much longer."

Ginny handed Beth the wooden spoon Kat had found in the kitchen. Beth bit down hard on the spoon, already dented with her teeth marks.

"My pa always said not to fight the contractions. Think of them as your stomach muscles working and just do your best to endure it. It's the hardest work you'll ever do, but it's for the greatest achievement, to bring life into the world, so why shouldn't it be hard?"

Beth's belly turned rock-hard. The contraction went on for so long, Kat gasped and realized she was holding her breath. They all were.

"Breathe, Beth. Keep breathing." She heard a long breath escape Beth's clenched jaw. Ginny breathed with her.

Kat chuckled, and then they all did, even Beth when the contraction finally eased.

Beth said, "That one was different."

Kat had noticed.

"It's time. We'll have a baby soon."

Beth rubbed a hand over her middle. "I never expected to have a baby get so big."

Ginny mopped her brow again. "You're just ready to give birth is all. Your baby is going to be a good-sized boy, I'd say."

Kat thought Beth indeed had a big baby on the way. Her arms and face had remained slender, yet her belly grew much larger than Kat would have expected. She was glad they were getting this child born and hoped Beth was up to delivering without trouble. She'd been involved a few times when there had been trouble, and she prayed now, silently and fervently, that nothing terrible would happen to this woman who had been so kind and generous to Kat.

Another pain began. Barely a minute since the one before ended. It was indeed time. Kat had left Beth covered to preserve her modesty, but the time for that was past.

It was time to add to their little community in the most miraculous way possible.

"I've invented a battery. And I think ... that is, I hope maybe I can power it with the sun."

The men remained motionless. As if their minds were far too busy with their thoughts to notice the world around them. There was a light breeze. An eagle screamed overhead. A black Angus calf gamboled past. Two puppies chewed on Joseph's boot laces.

"Is that possible?" Oscar asked.

"Well, it's all a theory at this point. My first goal is to make a much smaller battery so it's portable. But powered by the sun? Maybe, just maybe I've figured it out. I need time and supplies. And I've got ten patents to get before I work on my sun-power idea. But I've drawn up preliminary plans." Seb looked at the beauty around him and wished he could harness so many things. "Someone must think it's an idea with merit because they tried to kill me to get my plans. I need to find a safe place to work. I would do it here except I can't get the materials I need—materials I hadn't considered before. I must live and work someplace where I'll have access to shipments of odd materials. The ideas are burning in me, like an itch I can't scratch."

"How would that even work?" Jake looked up at the sun. "How do you make that"—he pointed upward—"power anything?"

"A French inventor named Leclanché built a battery and got it patented in 1866. He called it a wet cell battery. The Leclanché battery is a huge breakthrough, but it has some real weaknesses. For one thing it's heavy. That's why my first goal is to make a smaller one. Something portable would be so much more useful. It also needs to be longer lasting, more powerful. As it is now, the power ebbs and surges, but it needs to be steady. So I—"

"Hush up!" Jake slashed a hand at Seb and whirled to face the cabin just as Seb was getting ready to tell them all the really exciting parts.

Seb heard a high, thin cry coming from the house that could only belong to one member of their little family. The newest member.

Jake ran for the door. He almost staggered when he reached it to keep from slamming straight through. But since the door was made of split logs latched shut by dropping a heavy squared-off log into iron bars, all founded on solid rock, that wasn't going to happen.

Seb and the others were just a pace behind, but they all three stayed back out of respect for the father and his moment with his new child.

Then the latch scratched away, the door opened, and Ginny stepped outside, bearing a wiggling, crying cloth-wrapped bundle. "It's a girl, Jake. A little girl."

Ginny's eyes were wet with tears, her cheeks and chin as well. Her smile was so bright, it was blinding.

"How's Beth?"

"Still a bit busy. There's, uh..."

A second cry sounded—just as high, just as newborn—from deeper inside the cabin.

Jake's head snapped up so fast he might've hit Ginny in the chin, but she was looking away. Then Kat came out with a second bundle. "This one's a boy, Jake."

"Twins?"

Nodding, Kat grinned at Jake. When Jake went to looking between the babies, Kat's eyes locked on Seb's. He'd never seen such a smile on the woman before. A match for Ginny's, as if they'd witnessed a miracle. And as he looked at those two wriggling bundles, he suspected they had.

The moment stretched. He felt the draw of those joyful eyes. He'd seen the wonder and joy on Jake's face and wanted such a thing for himself. For the first time in his life, he wanted something more than he wanted to invent. Machines and chemicals had been a near obsession since childhood. Now he saw the possibility of so much more.

He'd asked Kat to marry him. He wondered if she'd thought about it.

Kat said, "Go on back, Jake. She's fine and wants to see you. We'll bring the babies."

Jake dashed between Kat and Ginny to get to his wife. The two women stepped out of his way, sharing their smiles of a miracle, happy to see how deeply Jake loved his Beth.

Oscar came up beside Ginny and leaned close to look at the little girl. Then his eyes slid to the boy. His smile shone bright enough to power a hundred batteries.

They all stayed out there to give Jake and Beth a quiet moment together. Oscar said, "Kat, you and Ginny take the little ones in to their parents. Give the four of them some time alone. I've got a roast going in the cave, a good cut of beef. I'll go see to it. By the time we get a meal ready, maybe Jake and Beth will want something to eat."

Ginny rested her head on Oscar's shoulder for just a few moments. Everyone was focused on the babies, but Seb noticed the look of tenderness on Oscar's face as Ginny leaned on him. He'd always known Oscar loved Ginny and Beth. But right now, Seb could see it was more than that for Oscar. He was in love with Ginny.

A difficult thing for a man to feel for a married woman.

But Oscar was an honorable man. Seb knew he'd never speak of his tender feelings for Ginny, never do anything but care for her and see that she had everything he could possibly provide in the way of comfort.

Seb thought of the hidden canyon. Oscar had built this cabin, brought in a herd. Bought supplies and trained cattle to pull three wagons across the country. He'd given everything he had to provide safety for Ginny and Beth, safety from Ginny's husband.

But he'd done it as a loyal friend. Even more, he'd acted as a servant and treated Ginny as a fine lady, far above him. Ginny hadn't behaved as if she expected that, but Oscar had maintained an utterly respectful distance. He'd never show that there was anything more. In fact, he'd hidden his feelings so well and so deeply, Seb suspected Oscar didn't recognize those feelings himself.

But in that moment, in that gesture, Seb saw a grandma and grandpa cooing over their grandchildren. Whether they realized it or not.

Seb wondered if they could maintain their current relationship forever, because if they couldn't, things in the canyon might become very difficult.