thirty-two
The rocks beneath Abe dug into his ribs and thighs where he lay unmoving on the ridge with Zeke on one side and Will on the other. His finger against the trigger was stiff, and his arm ached from holding the rifle in one position for so long.
But the light of dawn was finally beginning to make its way above the canyon walls and the towering pine and fir trees. It wouldn’t be long before the men in the camp below began to stir. And then the fight would begin.
He squinted through the darkness again, trying to figure out exactly where Zoe was bedded down. Against the low blaze of firelight, they’d counted six people in Dex’s camp—two keeping watch by the fire and four on pallets nearby. A couple smaller campfires revealed half a dozen other prospectors camping in the level area next to the river. Abe could only pray they wouldn’t join Dex in the conflict.
He glanced around the ridge. Thankfully, the men in the posse were staying well hidden, just as Zeke had instructed. During the past hour of tense waiting, Abe had been praying God would protect all who had ridden with him for long hours that night to rescue Zoe.
And he’d been praying Zoe, with Violet, would scramble to safety the second the first gunshot was fired. Zeke had assured him Zoe was smart, that she’d take cover, especially when she realized they’d come after her. While Abe agreed Zoe was a strong woman and could handle anything that came her way, his uneasiness had swelled.
Maybe he shouldn’t have brought so many innocent men with him—men who had become like brothers to him. Of course, the moment he’d stepped into Happy’s Tavern and voiced his need to form the posse, his friends had eagerly come forward, wanting to help him the same way he’d always helped them. Abe could only pray none of them would come to harm, especially Will.
“How are you doing?” he whispered to the boy as he already had a dozen times since they’d left Yale.
“Stop worrying about me, Pastor Abe.” With his head resting on his arms, which were crossed in front of him, Will didn’t seem in the least perturbed by the fact that they were about to engage in a gunfight with a dangerous group of outlaws.
“You just make sure you stay up here and out of the way.”
“I lost count of how many times you told me that.”
“I should have made you stay home.”
“And you know I’da just followed you up here anyway.”
Zeke pressed his finger against his lips, warning them to silence.
Abe nodded, adjusted his arm, and sighted down his rifle, which he’d fixed square upon Dex. He’d never shot at a man before, but if Dex had hurt Zoe in any way . . .
He quickly cut off the thought before he got worked up again. He wouldn’t do Zoe any good if he panicked. He had to stay composed. Like Zeke.
Abe eyed Zoe’s brother again. His low, lean profile was intense, his gaze focused, his muscles taut. Over the past hours of riding and working together, Abe had grown to admire the man’s leadership skills. With his commanding and yet calm attitude, Zeke had taken charge of the posse, planning out their method of attack and assigning each person specific tasks. When he’d given Mr. Hemming the job of standing guard down trail and watching their back, Abe had wanted to hug him for his sensitivity to the older man. Abe suspected Zeke had positioned himself in the same area as Will so he could keep his eye on the boy just as Abe was doing.
He saw a great deal of Zoe in Zeke, not just in his physical appearance, but in his mannerisms, the easy way he smiled and teased, the inner strength of purpose, and his consideration for everyone he met.
They’d talked most of the ride up the canyon, and Zeke had been open about his life since running away from Manchester, how he’d struggled the first months up in the goldfields and had almost given up.
Abe had asked him if he’d made peace with God over all that had happened, and Zeke had closed up. The silence had been all the answer Abe needed to realize that while Zeke might be willing to reconcile with Zoe, he wasn’t willing to do so with the Lord.
Abe lifted up a silent prayer for Zeke as he had throughout the night, a prayer that God’s Spirit would break through the barriers holding Zeke back. Then he prayed again for Zoe, that the Lord would graciously give him another chance with his wife so this time he could show her just how much she meant to him.
The light over the eastern range took on a golden quality, illuminating a distant mountain in color while everything else around it was like a black-and-white photograph. With the glow, the sleeping forms below took better shape.
“Five more minutes,” Zeke whispered, “and I’ll fire the first shot to wake them up.”
Abe nodded. The element of surprise was on their side, as well as the fact that they surrounded Dex and his group, having the higher ground and the cover of the cliffs.
“Will?” Zeke angled his head at the boy. “You’re my messenger. I need you to crawl around to each of the men and tell them to be ready in five minutes. Then hightail it right back here. Think you can do that?”
“Acourse I can,” he whispered before wriggling backward like a snake and disappearing into the brush.
Zeke waited a moment as if making sure the boy was gone and then leaned toward Abe. “If things go wrong, I want you to grab Zoe, gather up the men, and get on out of here as fast as you can.”
The seriousness in Zeke’s eyes told Abe that anything could happen. That even with their element of surprise, there weren’t any guarantees. Abe also knew what Zeke wasn’t saying—that if needed, he’d hand himself over to Dex in order to gain Zoe’s freedom.
“I’m not leaving you behind at the mercy of Dex,” Abe whispered back. “I could never do that. And you know as well as I do Zoe wouldn’t either.”
“That’s why you have to make her leave. Throw her over your shoulder and ride off with her if that’s what it’s gonna take.”
Abe started to shake his head, but the gleam in Zeke’s eyes stopped him. “I’ll never forgive myself for leaving her behind at the mercy of our father’s fists. Now with the chance to save her, I have to do it.”
“I should be the one to hand myself over to Dex. My ignorance got us into this mess in the first place.”
“No. She needs you. She needs someone who’ll love her the way she deserves.”
“Promise you’ll keep her safe?”
The urgency in Zeke’s voice told Abe he had no other choice but to agree. “I promise.”
Zeke nodded, then focused down the barrel of his rifle.
Zoe had ceased struggling now that she was holding Violet.
Earlier, the other native had handed Violet over to her when the babe’s cries had grown too loud.
“Keep baby quiet!” he’d demanded.
Zoe had snuggled Violet against her chest, kissed the little girl’s cheeks, and then whispered endearments until the cries had silenced.
They walked for a short while before they reached a cave. Her captor set her down and forced her to enter ahead of him. He kept a tight grip on her arm so she had no chance of slipping away—not that she considered trying it, not in the middle of a forest. She had no way of knowing which way to go and would only get hopelessly lost. Her best chance of escaping was waiting until daylight and finding a marked trail she could follow.
More voices speaking the native language greeted her captor, but in the darkness, Zoe couldn’t distinguish how many more there were. Without any light, Violet went back to sleep, and Zoe nearly did too.
She guessed an hour or two passed by the time her captor prodded her back up and ushered her into the forest. The sky overhead had begun to lighten, showing the first signs of dawn. The native picked her up again, and they resumed their hike through the woods, this time with more Indians creeping along soundlessly behind them.
Violet snuggled against Zoe, sucking her thumb, eyes wide open, and frightened of the stranger holding them both. Zoe kissed the little girl’s nose to reassure her and to keep her from crying again, thankful her captors had allowed her to keep Violet and hadn’t left the infant behind at the mercy of Dexter and his men.
She shuddered to think of Violet alone with Dexter. Yesterday he’d threatened to toss Violet over the side of the canyon if she caused too much trouble. Even though he’d said it with a grin, Zoe had sensed an undercurrent of threat, one warning her not to cause any trouble either.
Maybe her new kidnappers would show more compassion toward Violet since she was a native child.
Even as her entire being protested the idea of having to give the sweet babe up, Zoe realized she loved Abe enough to do anything for him, even if that meant letting go of Violet. If she ever made it back to Abe, she’d work hard at locating a good family for Violet, one that would love the child as their own.
When her captors finally stopped again, the man holding her was breathing hard. While she was a fairly thin woman, she guessed that carrying her was no easy feat, especially at the pace he’d kept and with the added burden of holding Violet.
Around them, the light of dawn revealed that the forest had given way to craggy cliffs rising steeply upward. The other men moved into the open and stared at her and Violet. Their faces were painted with black streaks. Many were adorned with feathers, beads, or shells wound with leather strips around their long braids. Others had shells in their ears similar to the Indian guide she’d met in Victoria. Some wore English shirts and trousers, but others had leggings and bare chests covered by hand-woven capes.
Though they appeared fierce and warlike, Zoe quelled her fear and tried not to think about what these men were capable of doing to her or where they might take her. Instead, she stared back defiantly, ready to defend herself and Violet if anyone tried to harm them.
Her captor spoke quietly, almost urgently, in a language Zoe didn’t understand. And the others glanced up the cliff and around. From the way he held himself and the respect he commanded, she sensed he was the leader.
The question was, What did he want from her? Did he plan to make her and Violet his slaves? If so, why would he carry her rather than tying her up and making her walk?
A gunshot came from a short distance away, but higher up. The bang echoed off the rocks and jarred Zoe down to her bones. Violet paused in sucking her thumb only to start up again more quickly.
Her captor issued sharp words to his comrades, and they scurried off in different directions, carrying an assortment of weapons—bows and arrows, long knives, and even rifles. Who were they fighting and why?
Only her captor remained. As he lowered her, she wobbled, her legs stiff from disuse. He reached out a strong hand to steady her, and she saw his features clearly for the first time. Violet stared at the Indian, her eyes growing wide again. While his face was as fierce and painted as the others, his eyes regarded her kindly, almost gently.
“You stay here,” he said. “Here you will be safe.”
He spoke better English than she’d realized. “Safe from what?”
“From man who steals Pastor Abe’s wife.”
Zoe stared into his dark eyes, her heartbeat speeding at the mention of Abe’s name. “Do you know Abe?”
He nodded curtly. “Pastor Abe save my life. Now I save his.”
“Save his?” Was Abe in danger? If so, how?
Another gunshot cracked in the early morning air. The native glanced to the cliffs above him and then frowned. “I go now.”
“Where are you going?”
He started away from her, and she followed. She needed to know what was happening and if Abe was here. But before she could walk more than two steps, the native turned and glowered at her with a dangerous look, one that made her stop.
“Pastor Abe’s wife stay here,” he said louder, as if that would make her understand his instructions better. “Stay safe.”
She stood still, guessing if she attempted to follow again, he wouldn’t hesitate to tie her up. With a final warning glare, he spun and sped toward a section of crumbling rock, his steps as silent and stealthy as they’d been all along. She forced herself to remain motionless and watched his every move as he made his way along the rocks until he disappeared behind a boulder.
After he was gone, the reality of what had happened hit her. She’d been rescued—not kidnapped—by one of Abe’s native friends. And now the natives were spreading out and intending to join in a fight against Dexter and his men, a fight that apparently Abe was leading.
Her pulse pounded a new rhythm, one of thrill that Abe had cared enough to come after her. He hadn’t known Dexter had forced her to leave Yale. For all Abe knew, she was running away from him willingly.
But he’d come anyway. She’d been gone less than twenty-four hours, and he was already here fighting for her.
Just as quickly as the thrill came, a burst of cold dread replaced it. Abe was in danger. He was clearly planning to take part in a gun battle with Dexter and his men.
She glanced around for signs of the native who’d rescued her. Even though he’d ordered her to stay hidden, she couldn’t just sit down and do nothing. Her heart demanded she find a way to help Abe. Before it was too late.