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All seems well. Yet...is it?
~ Seth
Striding forward into the trees, he kept his tread soft and stayed on a course that avoided the deepest areas of leaves and fallen branches that would sound his approach. The farther he went, the stronger the scent of wood smoke, but the plume stayed in that single stream.
A glimmer of brighter daylight appeared through the trees ahead, like a clearing or open land. He slowed as he neared, straining to see what lay beyond. A large object sat in the clearing, like a building or massive Indian lodge.
He slowed as he reached the edge of the wood, then planted himself behind a thick evergreen.
A cabin sat twenty strides ahead, as ramshackle as any he’d seen in months. The building was about the size of Elias’s one-room abode but without the lean-to in the back. A couple of horses grazed on the other side of the structure, not fenced that he could see. Hobbled maybe.
They’d eaten the grass in the clearing to low nubs, which meant they’d been here awhile. Which made him think they were white men. Didn’t Indians usually move in a band?
Whoever was inside, hopefully they were friendly and had salt to trade. That white deer hide was too exceptional to let rot because they couldn’t cure it properly. And they needed to save the meat.
Should he approach the building alone or come back with Samuel? With two animals, there were likely two men inside. Or maybe one man, and the second horse carried supplies.
Probably these were friendly trappers, just like Elias. And if they meant harm, well...better Samuel stayed alive to get Rachel and her son to safety.
He pushed that thought aside as he stepped out from behind the tree into daylight. Without his horse, he felt only half-dressed, but he held his rifle in both hands.
“Hello in the cabin.” He paused for a response, close enough to the trees he could dart back to shelter if needed. Something about this place didn’t sit easy with him. Or maybe he was simply picking up on Rachel’s shyness of strangers.
A minute or so slipped by before a voice called from in the building. “What be yer business?”
Maybe the wash of relief that swept through him was unfounded, but just the sound of the man’s voice seemed to settle his unease. “My name’s Seth Grant. I’m with a small group traveling through. We’re in need of salt and wondered if you’d have any to trade.”
Silence. The thick, rough-cut door at the front shifted, then pushed open just enough for a thick mop of dark hair to stick out. “I suppose we got salt to trade. What you got to give fer it?”
It took a minute for Seth to make out the details of the man. Maybe ten years older than himself, since his hair wasn’t taken over by gray yet. He wasn’t pointing a gun at Seth, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t someone else handling that job inside. There were plenty of cracks in between logs that would allow room to sight a rifle barrel.
In his mind, he scanned the dwindling supplies in their packs. “Fresh deer meat, killed a few hours ago and well drained.” They could always find more game if they needed to.
The man spat a stream into the dirt. “Got plenty o’ meat. Anythin’ else?”
If these were trappers, they likely did have more than enough meat on hand. “Beans then?” Maybe half of their remaining ration would gain them enough salt to prepare the hide. Surely they weren’t far from Canada and the end of their journey.
The man nodded. “That’ll do.” He pushed the door open wider, exposing the rest of his body. “Bring your folks on in an’ we’ll share a meal with ya. Me an’ Hackney here.”
Another head stuck out from the interior. This one with a shock of copper-colored hair. “How many ya got?”
Seth hesitated. Should he mention all four of them or just Samuel and himself? He was pretty sure Rachel wouldn’t come near these men, even if they did turn out to be a decent sort.
Better leave her out of the conversation. “My brother and I. ’Fraid we won’t be able to stop long enough for a meal. Let me go get him and we’ll return with the beans for trade.”
The dark-haired man nodded. “See you do.”
Seth stepped back toward the woods, and as the dimmer light sank around him, he glanced to the cabin again. Both men still stood in the doorway, watching his retreat without apology.
They seemed a little odd, but that should probably be expected with men who lived in this wilderness. He wasn’t keen on bringing Rachel and Andy to their knowledge. Maybe he was being too protective, but keeping them back seemed the best way to proceed.
He and Samuel could ride forward to make the trade. Basically, distract the men while Rachel and Andy skirted around the clearing to meet them on the other side.
Then they could all ride a ways farther before making camp for the night.
It wasn’t hard to convince all involved that his plan was the best course of action. Yet as Rachel and her son set off to the right to ride around the cabin in a wide circle, he couldn’t help a pang in his chest. Nay, more than a pang. A smothering weight.
Just before he nudged his gelding into the trees, Rachel turned for a last look. Their gazes met over the distance. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but it looked like the same longing on her face that yearned inside him.
As soon as they had a chance alone, he would tell her. Tell her of the past God had delivered him from. Then, invite her to join their futures together in their Father’s hands.
Purpose soared in his chest as he turned back toward the trees. “Let’s go.” There was much to be done this night.
When they reined their horses into the clearing, Seth signaled for a stop and called out. “Hello.” The men were likely watching for them, but it was always better to give warning in a country like this.
The door swung wide open this time, and the dark-haired man stood in the frame. “Settle yer horses an’ come on in. We’ve a stew that’s been simmerin’ most of the day.”
As much as he knew they wouldn’t be staying for a meal, the thought of a thick, warm soup started Seth’s mouth watering. He nudged his gelding forward, and Samuel did the same, then they both reined in a few strides from the cabin.
“This is my brother, Samuel.” He dismounted and reached behind the saddle to unfasten the sack of beans they had to trade. “I wish we could take you up on that offer, but we need to get another hour or so on the trail before we stop.”
“What’s yer hurry? I suspect you ain’t had comp’ny for a while. Might as well stay fer grub. Hackney here’s a decent hand with a spoon, an’ you can bed down outta the weather for the night.”
Seth shot a glance at the dusky sky. A layer of clouds covered what had been blue earlier. They might see rain tonight, which meant he should pull out the oilcloth and furs when they made camp.
He hoisted the beans and carried them forward. “I’d like to trade this for half a sack of salt, if you can spare it.”
The man eyed the bag. “Let’s see the beans.”
Either he fancied himself a shrewd trader or he wasn’t very trusting. Seth unfastened the leather tie and showed the inside. “We’ve been eating from the same shipment for weeks now and I can confirm they do a good job filling a hungry belly.” He offered a grin.
The lightness seemed to have no effect. The man spat a stream onto the ground beside them, then turned to yell back to the cabin. “Hackney, bring a half bag o’ salt.”
The tall, red-haired Hackney was either partially deaf, or this first man didn’t realize his friend was close enough to touch. But the man only tipped his head and shuffled back inside the cabin. Maybe he was hard of hearing.
The brown-haired fellow focused on Seth and Samuel again, his look turning curious. “Where you fellas from and where ya headin’?”
Seth glanced at his brother to see if he had any concern about sharing the details. These men seemed harmless enough, if a bit odd. “We’ve come up from Fort Benton by way of Two Rivers. We’re headed to the Canadian territories, near Fort Hamilton.”
The man’s face finally broke into a grin. “Fort Whoop-up, eh? You don’t look like yer bringin’ the whiskey, so I guess you’ll drink whatever they got.”
Seth frowned. “Not planning to drink.” What did that have to do with the fort?
The man shook his head and chuckled a dry laugh. “Everyone drinks at Fort Whoop-up. Reds and whites both. The whiskey runs freer there than water in the Marias River. Gamblin’, too.” A light glimmered in the man’s eyes. “Them boys know how ta have fun.”
That was the place Rachel planned to start a new life? Did her brother take part in the drink and gambling? She would be furious.
Or heartbroken. Probably both.
He should ask more about the place, but the roiling in his gut kept him from it.
Thankfully, Samuel changed the subject. “Are you aware of any Indians in this area? Maybe camps or hunting parties?”
Good thinking. Maybe these men would know what the braves meant by their strange behavior the day before.
The fellow’s heavy brow lowered over his eyes. “There’s a band of Kootenai south of here. D’you see ’em?”
Samuel briefly relayed the event as Hackney reappeared in the doorway holding a sack that looked a good bit less than half full. It should be enough for the deer hide, though.
The dark-haired man didn’t seem to notice his friend—or ignored him—and as Samuel finished the tale, he crossed his arms in a thoughtful pose. “Strange. We’ve traded with ’em a couple times an’ never had trouble. Maybe they was just tryin’ to get you past their camp without you knowin’ about it. Sounds like that’s about the place where they set up lodges.”
That was the only scenario that made even a little sense, although it still seemed odd. He turned his attention to Hackney. “Appreciate the trade. We need to get on the trail.”
The tall, red-haired man stepped forward and extended the sack. Out of the corner of his eye, Seth glanced a frown on the face of the front man. What was his name, anyway? He’d never introduced himself.
Seth took the bag with a nod of thanks, then glanced to dark-haired man. “I’m afraid I didn’t catch your name.”
“Burke. You boys come on back if you don’t wanna get wet.” The frown was gone from the man’s face, and he held a genial look. Almost a smile through his thick beard.
“Thanks for the offer.” Seth hooked the satchel of salt behind his saddle, then mounted.
“Take care.” Samuel gave a final wave as they turned toward the northbound trail.
Maybe it was his imagination, but the burn of the men’s stares seemed to pierce his back until they rode from sight. Had he or Samuel angered the men somehow?
Surely not.
Best put them from his mind and focus on what lay ahead. Find Rachel and Andy. Create some sort of shelter in case of rain.
Find a way to tell Rachel exactly what she meant to him.
