Ezra had to focus. His mind spun with what to do as he looked up at Opal, shielding his eyes against the glare of the morning sun. “Can you manage the wagon? I’m going into the woods to see if I can follow her horse’s trail. The animal came from the trees, but I’m thinking she must have been riding the Oregon Trail. Once I find where she left it, I’ll either call for you or come back to get you.”
She nodded. “Of course.”
He set off at a jog, entering the woods in the spot he’d seen the horse leave. Her trail wasn’t hard to follow, since the horse had been running pell-mell, churning leaves and snapping branches as it went.
He followed the winding trail as it moved mostly westward. After about ten minutes of trotting along the path, he veered left toward the edge of the woods and called for Opal to drive the team forward.
“Stay on the road for another five minutes or so. I think the horse’s tracks will keep moving parallel to the main trail.”
She nodded, then snapped the reins and called for the team to walk on.
For a quarter hour at least, they proceeded in that manner. And then the woods ended in a rocky bluff, but he was able to pick out the deep hoof marks pressed into the ground amongst the stones around the base of the cliff.
Then the woods began again, and he followed the same set of fresh tracks into the shadows. It was interesting that the horse had stayed in the forest instead of moving to the open road.
Opal kept the team driving at about the same pace he traveled, as he was able to jog through much of the way. His breath was coming in deep pants now, probably as much from the steady run as from the race of his pulse.
His mind tried to wander through all the possible scenarios as to why Tori’s horse would be running through the wilderness, riderless and obviously frightened. But he couldn’t let his thoughts conjure images. He had to focus on picking up all the signs the trail might hold for him.
As he jogged through the woods, dodging trees, a cedar sapling caught his notice. Several bare spots showed in the trunk where twigs had been snapped from it, and the dead needles at the base had been stirred into a frenzy. Hoof prints marred the mud where the forest residue had been pawed away.
And then he saw the ashes from a campfire, the flattened area where someone must have sat. The churned leaves around that circle.
He stepped closer. Maybe he could distinguish Tori’s lady-sized boot prints. Although, from the amount of activity the ground showed, she’d either been here a while, or there was more than one person.
A glimmer of gold caught in the light filtering through the trees. He bent down and picked up a finely braided gold chain necklace, with a pendant shaped in the outline of a heart, no bigger than the pad of his little finger.
Was it Tori’s? It certainly belonged to a woman, but he couldn’t say he’d ever seen her wear jewelry. Opal would know for sure.
He turned and sprinted toward the road.
When he reached the wagon, he had to fight to draw enough breath to speak. So he held up the necklace without a word.
Opal’s face paled and she reached for the pendant and took it from him.
“Is it…hers?” He forced out the words through his parched throat.
“I gave it to her on her eighteenth birthday. To celebrate her freedom.” Opal’s distressed gaze flew to his face. “What’s happened?”
He shook his head, fighting against the bile churning in his gut. “I found where she must have camped. It looks like tracks go three ways, at least one of them headed north toward the mountains. I’m going to start that way. Do you think you can take the team back to South Pass and wait for me there?”
She stiffened. “I’m coming, too. Maybe I can follow one of the other trails.” She started to set the wagon’s brake, but she was such a willowy thing, it required her entire body to complete the action.
Could he let her come with him? She’d be so much safer tucked back in the hotel in South Pass City. But if she had any of Tori’s stubborn streak running through her, he’d waste too much time trying to talk her out of accompanying him. And at least this way, he’d be there to keep her safe. Besides, maybe she would have insight into where Tori might have gone.
“Loosen that brake again. We’ll move the wagon to the trees, then unhitch the horses and settle them. I think they’ll be safe enough there. Hopefully we won’t be gone long.” Lord, let us find her soon. He tried not to show the fear surging through his veins.
Opal worked with quick efficiency while they settled the team. She was usually competent, but in a mild, almost invisible way. Getting things done without you realizing she was doing them. Right now, she worked as a woman intent on her purpose, taking over the team from him with a brusque determination. “I’ll do this.” Her voice held an undertone of steel.
He nodded. “We’ll take Tori’s mare. We can pack supplies in the saddle bags, and you’ll ride her.
Even with them working together, it seemed like hours before they had Jim and Jack settled and Opal mounted on the gray. Finally, Ezra checked the pistol he’d tucked in his waistband, then set off on foot, Opal’s horse trailing him.
When they reached Tori’s empty campsite, he inspected the ground again to catch anything he’d been too distressed to see before. He found small boot prints in a section of muddy moss that must have been from Tori. And there were several places where horse hooves had dug into the leaves to uncover mulch and mud underneath, as though they’d been pawing while they were tied.
Then he checked the tracks leading away from the area. The one set was, of course, the trail he’d been following from Tori’s horse when it fled the scene. And another single set of horse prints led from a southwesterly direction, as if it had been tracking from the road. Maybe Tori had been riding the Oregon Trail and come into the woods to camp? That made sense.
So the only trail unexplained was the more heavily traveled tracks heading north. Into the mountains.
They headed that way, and at first, he studied each print, trying to reconstruct who had traveled this direction and how. Every time his mind wandered to the why, it almost paralyzed his thoughts.
He pushed faster, no longer analyzing each track, but making sure he stayed on their trail. Whatever had happened to Tori, she needed help now. He had to find her.
The trees began to thin, strengthening the daylight around them. Yet the sun’s rays had dimmed behind a blanket of low, gray clouds. The air had grown even colder than when they’d started that morning, and it burned his lungs as he took deep gulps to fuel his hike. Finally, the woods opened into a rocky country, with stone bluffs scattered across their view.
He paused to take in the scene. No evidence of people marred the wilderness, and the rocky ground might make it harder to follow Tori’s tracks.
Something wet touched his nose and he swiped at it as he looked up.
“It’s snowing.” Opal spoke the words that had formed in his mind.
He glanced at her, the implication of this new development taking shape in his mind. Snow would make it almost impossible to follow Tori’s trail. And if she weren’t prepared for the elements, she could freeze to death before they reached her.
Oh, God. They had to find Tori. Now.
The farther they rode into the mountain wilderness, the more Tori’s body tried to retreat to the place where she no longer had to feel or see or know. She could block out the way her legs occasionally brushed against Jackson as the horse jostled, climbing rocky hills and trekking down steep inclines. Riding behind his saddle, with her hands tied behind her back, it was a wonder she didn’t slide off completely. Only the vise grip she clutched on the saddle blanket kept her in place.
They’d rode several hours in the night, then the men made camp. They’d kept her tied to a tree, albeit in a position where she could have shifted around to lie on her side, her hands still strapped behind her. It wouldn’t have been comfortable, but she may have slept if she’d wanted to. But sleep was the last thing she’d attempt with these vultures so close. Yet, by the grace of God, they’d ignored her.
Even this morning, after the two had slept hours past sunrise, then cooked a hot breakfast over the fire, they’d not given her the time of day. They barely even spoke to each other. When Jackson disappeared around a cluster of boulders, the big man had offered her a flapjack and piece of jerked meat. Her stomach had churned when he pushed the food in her mouth with his grubby hands, but she had to keep her strength up if she was going to get away from these despoilers.
And now, they’d been back on the trail for at least a couple more hours. Where were they taking her? These men rode as if they had a purpose and knew their destination exactly. Jackson wouldn’t be familiar with this country, she was fairly certain. As far as she knew, he’d not left Pennsylvania these last ten years, at least. And he’d never seemed like the type to explore the wilderness for pleasure.
So was the other man a local? He was a big, beefy fellow, wrapped in a buckskin coat with a beard covering most of his face. He certainly looked like he could be accustomed to life in these western mountains. Did he have a cabin out here? If Jackson had been sent to find Opal, why didn’t he pressure her again for answers?
She was more than thankful he hadn’t pressed his advantage again, but the farther they strayed from the main road, the harder it would be for her to find help when she escaped.
And she would escape. She had to hold onto that determination.
Snowflakes had been pricking her face in occasional flurries, but now fell in steady succession. She hadn’t been able to feel her hands for several hours, except where the rough blanket burned her fingers as she gripped it. Not even the warmth from the horse’s back penetrated her numbness.
They rode farther as the snow fell in a thick haze. The hours seemed to blur, and she huddled into herself. It didn’t even matter so much if her body brushed against her captor, solid in the saddle in front of her. The cold had taken a chokehold on her and stripped away anything except the desire for warmth.
And even that desire no longer seemed so important. She just wanted it to end. Wanted everything to end. Exhaustion seeped through her almost as intensely as the cold, and she pressed her eyes shut. God, if you have any pity, take me now.
This life was too hard. Nothing had ever been easy. Nothing good since her parents had chosen their selfish thievery over her well-being. Nothing good except Opal.
An image of her cousin slipped through her mind, standing at the stove in Ezra’s cabin. The picture in her memory shifted to Ezra himself, perched at the kitchen table. His arms were draped across the table as he leaned forward, and he seemed to be staring at her. Or…maybe he was speaking to her. She struggled to hear him.
“Do you know God loves you, Tori?” His soft voice held an intensity which seemed to pierce her along with his gaze. “He wants to be there when you need Him. Even more than that, He wants you to be happy. To find joy in Him.”
She struggled to take in the words. They didn’t cut deep like they once had. Because he’d said them before. She couldn’t remember when, but this time they soaked through her, and she clung to them. “I need Him now, Ezra, but I don’t know how to find Him.” She tried to speak the words, but her mouth wouldn’t work.
He must have understood, though, because he answered. “Just say His name, and He’ll be there. All you have to do is ask.”
“You mean…Jesus?”
Ezra nodded, but he seemed to grow blurry in her vision. The entire cabin dimmed, and she struggled to focus. “Ezra?”
Just say His name. The words were like a whisper in her heart.
Jesus. Jesus, help me. The warmth that had seemed to reach out to her from the cabin faded, and the chill of the mountains crept in to brush against her cheeks. Yet the cold didn’t penetrate any deeper.
Jesus. The name echoed in her mind, and with each reverberation, her senses came back to life. Awareness crept into her thoughts as surely as her fingers resurrected with aching intensity.
Her head bumped against something, and she straightened, unfolding herself from where she’d curled into a ball. The top of her head must have been pressed against the back of the man in front of her.
Jackson.
She stiffened, the full extent of her situation flooding back like a crashing wave that jolted her awake.
Mountains crested high around her, and snow fell in a steady cascade. When would they stop? Where were they going? Maybe she could ask, although the thought of initiating conversation with Jackson made a lump clog in her throat. Both men had remained silent most of the day, speaking to each other only in short commands.
But as the trail curved around the base of a hill, a structure caught her focus. Although that word might be a generous description for the log shack tucked in a crook where two mountains met at their bases. It seemed that the only thing that kept the teetering building from blowing over was the fact that the mountain sheltered it from the wind on three sides.
Their guide reined in at the front, and Jackson did the same. The larger man grunted something she couldn’t understand as he slid from his horse and strode toward her.
“You take the horses.”
An extra shiver slid down her spine at Jackson’s words, although it may have been the sound of his voice more than what he said. The thought of being alone in the cabin with this leech was the stuff of her nightmares.
The big man approached her and, before she could protest or even prepare for his reach, he gripped her under the arms and hauled her off the horse.
She bit back a squeal as her feet met nothing but air. Then she connected hard with the ground, and her legs gave way. The man kept a hold on her upper arm, and even though the steel in his fingers bit into her flesh through her coat, the strength of his grip kept her upright.
Jackson slid off the horse and took her other arm. His hold was much gentler, yet it left her feeling stained in a way she despised.
He led her to the door of the cabin, and she fought the urge to jerk her arm from his hand. But with her wrists bound behind her back, fighting his grip would only anger him. No, playing along had always been the best way to handle this man. Soon, though, she would catch him off guard. She would escape.
Jesus, help me escape. Please.