Sixteen

It’s time to wake up, Aaron.” Laura shook the man’s shoulder harder than she probably should, but she couldn’t bite back the frustration simmering in her gut toward these Long men.

First, Nate kissed her senseless the night before, then he apologized for it. Did he truly wish their kiss had never happened? That’s what I’m sorry, please forgive me had always meant in her world. If he’d hated the kiss so much, she certainly wouldn’t force him to endure any more.

Lying awake half the night mulling over his words hadn’t done much for her temper this morning, and now Aaron’s sluggishness added fuel to her frustrations.

“Why are you having so much trouble waking these days?” She gave him another shake.

His head jerked with her effort, and his eyes finally slitted open. “Leave me alone.”

His words slurred just like Pa’s used to more mornings than not. Aaron couldn’t be drunk, though, nor fighting the aftereffects of excessive drink. The Bradleys didn’t have a drop of strong drink in the building.

“I’ve brought food for you.” She forced a more patient tone, even though she had to speak through clenched teeth. “It’s important you keep a normal schedule with waking and sleeping, even if you don’t feel like it.”

He blew out a breath thick with the foul dredges of sleep.

And something else. Was that a sweetness lacing the air?

She’d not given him any baked treats the night before. Neither she nor Ingrid had the time or energy to bake much these days.

At last, his eyes opened more fully and he stared up at her. Red rimmed his whites, and the brown centers bore a glassy sheen.

Bile churned in her gut and she stepped back, pulling her hand away from his shoulder. “What have you been drinking, Aaron?”

She’d coddled her father through his drunken binges most of her life, then Robbie after he lost his leg, but those days were behind her.

She crossed her arms over her chest, wrapping her hands around her elbows to keep from gripping his neck. Or maybe to keep him from gripping hers. The flurry of unwanted emotions had her insides jumbled, and she had to brace herself to keep from backing away. She’d never wanted to feel this fear again. Had promised herself she never would. But the anger was almost as bad.

“I didn’t drink nothing.” His words were definitely slurred.

Get away. The thought welled in her chest, stealing her air and constricting her lungs.

She spun and lunged for the door. Thank God the doctor was here. He would get to the bottom of this. She didn’t have to face it alone. Not this time.

Laura clamped her hands over her ears to seal out the yelling as she curled onto her bed. Maybe a childish gesture, but the words Aaron hollered were taking her right back to her childhood. This time she had her own room to hide in, but only a single wall separated her from Aaron’s raging.

As soon as she told the doctor what condition she’d found Aaron in, he’d gone in to question the man. Why hadn’t she left then? It had been too early for church, so she’d thought to keep herself sequestered in her room until the time came for her to accompany Ingrid and the doctor to the little chapel at the edge of town.

But now . . . she couldn’t imagine sitting quietly on a wooden bench with Aaron’s accusations ringing in her memory. She’d never be able to focus on the reverend’s words, no matter how badly she needed to hear them.

Unbidden, the image of the mountain settled in her spirit. The mountain. She needed the peace that always came from standing on the edge of the precipice, feeling God’s touch in the breeze brushing her skin. Surrounded by His creation was where she always felt the Creator nearest.

Aaron’s voice rose louder as his curses rang through the clinic. Doc Micah’s voice rose along with it, trying to quiet the man. The doctor probably needed help, but she couldn’t be the one this time. When drunks became angry, there was nothing that could be said to silence them. You could either listen to the raging or get away from it.

This time, she could get away.

Jumping from the bed, she ignored the pain shooting through her ankle. She grabbed her coat and hat, then slipped through her door and down the hall.

Aaron’s words rang even louder in this larger space, ricocheting off the hallway walls.

At the front door, she pulled on her coat and slipped outside. A blast of cold air struck her face, and she sucked in a deep breath. In two strides she crossed the porch, and if it weren’t for her weak ankle, she would have leapt over the steps altogether. She needed out of here.

Needed freedom.

As she hobbled down the road toward the outskirts of town, her mind spun back to all those times she’d stepped out of their cabin, desperate for escape. So often, Will would ride out of the barn just then, reading her mind. He’d have a bridle on the old mare, but never a saddle. Even before Pa sold the saddle to pay for his wretched habit, she and Will had considered the contraption as only a bother. He’d help her climb aboard the mare, then she’d tuck herself in behind him. The mare would dance as Will held tight to the reins.

Then he’d give the ol’ girl her head and a mighty kick with his scrawny legs. Those moments of flying were the best of her childhood.

If only she had a horse right now.

But she didn’t, so she strode forward as fast as her ankle would let her, soaking in the blustery wind pulling tendrils of her hair loose. Just like when she rode with Will.

God, I miss him. She let the tears fall as she walked. Let them blur her vision, and only swiped at her nose when she couldn’t bear the annoyance.

Not until the long, grueling days of her journey west had she finally learned how to grieve for Will. For all her family . . . but especially him. He’d been her lifeline. Her rock through some of the hardest years of her life.

A true blessing from God, although she’d been so angry with the Lord at the time for taking Mum, she’d not been willing to ascribe anything good to Him.

Even then He’d been patient with her.

The tears fell without restraint as she walked, retracing one memory after another with Will. There had been so many good ones. With Robbie, too, especially after he’d grown old enough to be more playmate and less responsibility. A few times, they’d all three climbed aboard the mare. But the poor horse was getting older by then, and she’d not been able to manage much of a run.

And Laura had been so worried about Robbie slipping off or getting knocked by one of the branches overgrowing the trail that she’d enjoyed those outings more when it was only her and Will. Being responsible for Robbie had been her life—a hardship most times, but one she wouldn’t have traded.

Had Will felt that same way about her? He’d only been two years older than her, so she’d thought of him more as a friend than a brother. Her best friend.

But maybe he’d considered her a responsibility. Someone he had to work hard to protect and cheer up when she was frustrated with Robbie or sad about Mum. A sister he had to protect against Pa’s darker moments. They’d both learned early that they couldn’t match their father’s physical strength.

Escape was the far better option.

She reached a rocky incline and glanced around. The cave lay just ahead, although she’d not planned this mountain as her destination. Just like the last time she’d needed to get away from the clinic, something had pulled her to this place. The trail leading here wasn’t very well traveled, at least not the route she took. Maybe that’s why she was drawn this way when the strain of life welled up too great to manage.

She climbed partway up the mountain to the ledge and started over the narrow trail toward the cave, but her spirit was still too unsettled to face Bright Sun or her grandfather. Seeing them would require her to offer a strength and support she didn’t possess at the moment.

She maneuvered the tricky spot without trouble, and at the place where the low rock required a step up, she sank down to sit. From this vantage point, she could stare out at the majestic peaks rising up to hide in the clouds above.

So much grandeur, and her such a little creature in the midst of it all. God had made every intricate detail of this vast landscape and still knew every bit that happened with any of His creation.

He even still cared. That was the marvel that truly stretched her mind. Thank you, Lord. Her emotions were too raw to summon any more than that, but God knew what she meant.

Even now, she could feel the strength of His arms wrapping around her. Tucking her under the shadow of His wing like a mother hen shelters her brood. His was the strength that had pulled her through the loss of her family, and His was the only strength that would carry her through these troubled days. Once again, He’d placed people in her life to be the good through this present trial.

Nate’s easy smile swept through her mind.

Except now she wasn’t sure of him. Did he want nothing to do with her since that kiss? In her mind, she’d thought never to let a man so near her, not just physically near, but so close to her heart. To her yearnings.

But Nate wasn’t any man. He was . . . Nate. Strong and sure and good. Every part of him good.

Her chest tightened as a yearning crept through her that she had no business feeling.

She leaned back against the stone wall of the cliff behind her. This was all so exhausting. The memories. The pain. The longing. She let her eyes drift shut as weariness swept through her, stealing the strength from her bones.

Nate stopped short when he glimpsed the form slumped against the rock ahead. Laura.

The blood leached from his head as he took in her lifeless form. Had she fallen and hit her head? Surely she wasn’t . . . God, no. Not dead.

He wanted to charge forward, to shake her awake. But if something—or someone—had hurt her, they might still be around. Maybe whoever had placed those crates in the cave.

He pulled his pistol from his waistband and held it at the ready. Maybe carrying the Colt was a holdover from his days on the run, but between dangerous animals and men out there doing what he’d once done, keeping a weapon handy seemed like a good idea.

Easing forward, he kept his senses tuned for any sudden noises. As he neared, his ears picked up the gentle sound of Laura breathing. Thank you, Lord. She lives. The pressure in his chest eased a little. But he still had to beware of whatever had knocked her out.

He reached her and—keeping his focus on their surroundings and his gun aimed ahead—he bent low enough to touch her shoulder. “Laura?”

She lay back against the rock wall, almost as though she’d settled herself down for a nap. But she wouldn’t do that out here. Not on the edge of a precipice.

He’d returned from hunting early enough that he’d stopped by the clinic to see Aaron before heading to church. Maybe to even talk to Laura about what happened last night. To assure her he’d meant nothing untoward with that kiss, and she didn’t have to fear he’d repeat it. At least, not unless she wanted him to.

But the debacle he’d found at the clinic still churned in his belly. None of what he’d seen and heard seemed as if it could be true. He couldn’t believe Aaron would do what the doctor claimed.

Yes, Aaron had been struggling with melancholy, and his temper had flared some this past week, but it was all brought on by pain. If he’d been groggy from the pain medicine he’d somehow gotten his hands on, he wouldn’t have been suffering from pain that would anger him.

None of it made sense.

When the doctor said Laura had gone for a walk, Nate had known without a doubt he’d find her here. His logical side had told him he should leave her alone to work through her frustrations, especially after he’d overstepped so much the night before.

But still he’d come. At the very least, he could apologize for the words and actions of his thick-headed brother.

And now . . . thank the Lord he’d come. He rested his hand a little more firmly on her shoulder. “Laura, can you wake up?” He gave her a little shake. He’d much prefer to awaken her by stroking the hair back from her face and speaking gentle words, but he had to keep his focus on their surroundings. Had to be alert in case an enemy still lurked nearby.

He let his gaze sweep over her again. No injuries that he could see. No swipes from a mountain lion. No blows to her face from a violent ruffian.

Her eyelids fluttered open, and for a moment, she stared up at him, unfocused. Then her eyes sharpened and her entire body stiffened as she stared up at him.