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Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted in me? Hope thou in God.
~ Monti’s Journal
AS MONTI POURED COFFEE and set out plates for the meal, Antoine shuffled around in the corner where he kept his personal belongings.
Now would be a good time to talk through their plans for the day. “How far away is the tribe you’re going to see?”
He kept working as he answered. “A half day’s ride over the mountain.”
A niggle of alarm tugged in her chest. “Is it safe to travel back after dark?”
“Non. I shall stay the night with the Blood people and return by the morrow’s eve.” He turned his focus to her. “Perhaps it would be best for you to stay the night with Madame Grant. She would welcome your presence, I am sure.”
She opened her mouth to object, but Joseph stepped into the conversation. “Emma will want you to stay. You won’t be safe here alone.”
She spun on him. “I’ll be perfectly safe. I haven’t even met your sister. I’ll not foist myself upon her as a houseguest at our first acquaintance.”
Normally, men stepped away from the glare she aimed at him. It was the same look Mama had perfected to aid her in business negotiations.
Joseph stepped closer, though, bringing him near enough she could smell that scent that had come to mean strength and safety to her.
His voice lowered, its timbre sinking through her chest. “You don’t have to, Monti. But maybe keep it as a possibility. Wait until you meet my family, then decide.”
She stared into those amber eyes, darkened by the dim lighting in the cabin, yet still bright enough to shine through to her very soul. “All right.” The words came out just above a whisper as she forced them around the tightness in her throat.
His mouth formed a soft curve, then he broke their gaze, looking toward the fire. “It smells like our breakfast might be ready.”
~ ~ ~
JOSEPH STRUGGLED FOR something to say as the silence stretched on during their ride. It wasn’t like Monti to lack for words, and the tight line of her normally soft mouth made it clear she was nervous. She had no reason to worry, of course. Emma would adore her. Hannah, too. And Simeon would go along with whatever Em decided, although he’d probably share Joseph’s concern about a young, unprotected woman surviving alone in these parts. But Monti seemed nervous about meeting his family no matter how much he’d assured her, and the longer they rode, the tighter she gripped her saddle horn.
“We’ll see the house once we reach the top of that rise.” He motioned toward a gentle swell in the snowy ground.
She offered only a stiff nod. Apparently, he’d not said the right thing to ease her nerves.
Maybe he could distract her. “How did things go with Hungry Wolf’s people after I left yesterday?”
She darted an almost surprised look at him. “All right, I suppose. Except...did you know something is wrong with Hollow Oak’s heart?”
“Wrong? You mean she’s sick? She seemed to be running and playing fine while I was there.”
As Monti told of Flying Dove calling her into their teepee, then seeing the child struggling for breath as she slept, her tone took on a deeper urgency with each sentence. “Her feet were so swollen. Something is stopping her heart from pumping the blood effectively.”
He tipped his head at her as his mind scrambled to catch up with her flow of thinking. Maybe he’d been too focused on how upset she was and not paying enough attention to her words. “How do you know it has anything to do with her heart? Maybe she just has a childhood ailment that will go away in a few days.”
She shook her head before he even finished his words. “I’ve seen this. I’ve studied the workings of the heart and circulatory system for years. Something isn’t working correctly, and her mother knows it too.”
Too many questions assailed him, but he honed in on the one most curious. “You’ve been studying the workings of the heart for years? How...why?” What would possess a young woman to study medicine of that nature?
Her face seemed to harden. Or maybe just grow more stubborn. “Because I wanted to. But I don’t know what we can do for Hollow Oak. There’s been much discovery about heart conditions, especially genetic disorders that affect children. But none of the physicians working in that field have uncovered what can be done to save a child still living.”
He let her words sink in, sorting them from one angle, then another. “Simeon might be able to help. He knows all kinds of plants and herbs that are good for healing. Even saved my life once or twice with them. We can ask him.”
Her dainty brows pulled together as though she weren’t sure what to think about his offer. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt. I spoke with Antoine, but his only advice was prayer. Which I’ve done, of course.”
They were mounting the rise then, and Monti’s attention was drawn to the valley that stretched out before them. The ground was vast and mostly open, as large in footprint as a mountain. Sprawling enough that Aunt Mary’s ranch existed in the same basin as Simeon and Emma’s cabin, but you could barely see one from the other.
From the side they entered, Monti would see the cabin perched about halfway across the valley before them. A cozy structure, with a barn and fenced pens scattered around the house.
Joseph could picture the scene in his mind, yet that wasn’t what took up his thoughts just now. He couldn’t quite pull his gaze from Monti’s face. The look of awe brightening her dainty features made her features almost glow. Perhaps that was the sun still low in the eastern sky, but no matter the reason, she looked more like an angel than any creature he’d ever seen.
Breathtaking.
She turned to him then, catching him staring, locking her gaze with his. Her eyes shimmered in a kind of joy that seemed to radiate from her very soul. Something inside him reached out to her, wanted to touch her. He had to fist his good hand around the saddle to keep from pulling her horse close and following through with his body’s yearning.
A soft smile touched her eyes first, slipping down to take over all her features. Then she glanced back at the valley before them and nudged her mare forward. “It looks like we’re almost there.”
As she rode forward, her words seemed to reverberate in his chest. Almost there. If only. But he didn’t let himself linger long enough to think how nice it might be if they were almost to a home they shared, this woman filling it with her angelic presence.
~ ~ ~
MONTI HAD PREPARED herself for any number of possible meetings with Joseph’s family—especially his sister. Maybe Emma would be plain and shy. Perhaps she would be curly-haired and outgoing. Mayhap tall and winsome. She had to be an excellent homemaker, because Joseph seemed to hold her up as one of the most able domestics in the land. How much of that was brotherly affection and how much was truth?
The woman whose face lit when she opened the cabin door had to be Joseph’s sister. She had the same coffee-colored hair and the same striking reddish-brown eyes. “Come in, please.”
Joseph motioned for Monti to precede him into the house. “Emma, this is Miss Monti Bergeron.” He motioned toward her, but before he could finish his introduction, his sister took hold of Monti’s arm.
“I can’t tell you how happy I am to meet you. Joseph’s told us so much about you. It’s about time he finally brought you here.”
Monti had planned to curtsey as was a proper greeting, but Emma’s lively welcome pulled her off-course. He’d told them so much about her? “The pleasure is mine, Madame Grant.”
“Emma, please. We’re not so formal in this part of the country. You must be freezing. Come to the fire and warm yourself. I have mulled cider warming, would you like some?” She sent an affectionate smile at her brother. “Joseph will drink it all if I let him, so you’d best have your fill now.”
Monti removed her gloves and accepted the mug of cider, letting its spicy scent waft through her. Although Emma seemed eager to chatter, she had a kind of humble graciousness that emanated from her with every word and expression.
“Where’s my sidekick?” Joseph accepted his own mug from his sister as he stood by the fire.
“Napping, but she’ll probably hear your voice and be up any minute.”
Joseph shot Monti a mischievous look. “Can I wake her up then?”
“You certainly cannot.” Emma glared at him, then sent Monti a long-suffering smile. “He doesn’t realize how precious naptime can be. I get more done in that one hour than I do all afternoon.”
Joseph said, “You’d get more done if you didn’t play so much.”
Emma just shook her head. “Speaking of work, I was preparing dumplings for the midday meal. Monti, would you like to roll the pastry for me? I’m hoping Joseph will split more wood small enough to fit in the cook stove.”
“I just get here and she’s already putting me to work.” He shook his head as if he were disgruntled. But the look he slid Monti showed his humor.
“It’s about time you earn your keep around here.” She looked at him with a bemused expression as he headed toward the door.
“Where’s Simeon hiding out?” He stopped to refasten the buttons on his coat.
“He’s gone to check the horses, but he’ll be back to eat with us.”
The door closed behind Joseph, shutting away the outside sounds and settling a quiet over the room. Emma turned a kind smile on her. “I don’t mean to put you to work, too. Just sit at the table and visit while I finish this.”
Monti stepped toward the kitchen. “No, please. I’d like to learn your recipe for dumplings.” Not that she had her own recipe or anything, but she’d rather not let this woman know exactly how inept she was in the kitchen. Unless Joseph had told her.
She followed Emma toward the cookstove and work counters.
“It’s hard to get supplies out here, but Simeon makes a run to town every few weeks for whatever they have in. As long as he can get flour, we’re able to grow or hunt most everything else we—”
A bang at the door cut her short, and they both whirled to face the sound. Emma moved that direction, but had only taken a step when the door flew open.
A large man in a thick animal-skin coat barged in, something furry cradled in both arms.
“Simeon.” Emma was by his side in a second. “What’s happened?”
The man turned to his wife, giving Monti a better view of his front. He carried some kind of grayish-colored dog that had a bright spot of crimson marring the hair on its side. The blood dripped down from the animal in a steady stream, pooling on the cabin floor.
“Wolves...after the horses.” He struggled to catch his breath. “When I got there, they were after the black mare. Mustang chased them off, but he took a beating.”
Emma leaned close over the dog’s head. “Hey, boy.” Then she stepped back. “I’ll get a blanket and the medicine box. There’s water heating by the fire.”
Mr. Grant glanced around, his gaze coming to rest on her. He nodded, then moved toward the hearth.
Monti turned toward Emma. “What can I do?”
She motioned toward the counter. “There’s a crate under there with bandages and dried herbs and such. Take that to Simeon while I get a blanket.”
Monti found the box, then turned to the man and dog on the other side of the room. They’d not even been introduced, but it seemed formality really didn’t have much place here on the frontier. Squaring her shoulders, she strode over to him.
He looked up from where he seemed to be examining the animal’s wounds. “You must be Miss Bergeron.”
“Yes.” She dipped in a slight curtsy. Something about the man seemed so daunting. Not that he was frightening, per se, but he seemed to have a wild aura about him. As though he’d been carved from the mountains that stood as sentries around this valley.
She knelt by the dog’s feet, placing the box where the man could reach it. “What next?”
“Bring that water over here. And I’ll need a rag. Maybe you can find one by the sink.”
She did as he asked, finding a cloth that looked dry and unused. As she moved back toward the wounded animal, the cabin door swung open again. Joseph stepped inside, and the sight of him loosened the knot clenched in her chest.
His gaze met hers. “What’s wrong? I saw Simeon’s horse and a trail of blood.”
She motioned toward the man and dog, then proceeded in that direction. “The dog is hurt. He said wolves attacked the horses.” She knelt again and handed the cloth to Simeon, who pressed it against the dog’s side where the blood seemed to be coming in a steady flow.
Joseph knelt behind her, his presence both soothing her nerves and awakening a riot of butterflies in her middle. He was close enough she could feel his warmth, even though he didn’t touch her.
“Anyone else get hurt?” His voice rumbled near her ear. If she turned to look at him, their faces would likely be less than a foot apart.
But she didn’t turn.
“One of the broodmares. I think she’s all right, but I need to get back out and check her. Make sure they don’t come back to finish the job.” Simeon’s attention drew upward to a point behind them, a bit of relief slipping over his face.
Monti turned to see Emma approaching. She held up a gray woolen blanket and moved around to sit in front of the dog. “Have you washed it yet?” She spoke in a low tone, her words obviously meant for her husband.
“Just staunching the blood.”
“Do you need to get back to the horses?” She looked up at him, studying his face with twin lines furrowing her brow.
He nodded, his gaze shifting between her and the dog. “I would use the powdered pepper first, then we’ll try comfrey tonight.”
“That’s what I was thinking, too.”
Their gazes locked, and something intimate passed between them. She found herself watching Simeon’s face, which looked—thankful? Relieved? As if all would be better with Emma’s help.
She knew that feeling. The startling realization made her pull back a bit. The look on Simeon’s face was exactly how she felt when Joseph had walked into the room moments ago.
She wanted to dart a glance at him, but her spinning mind wouldn’t let her. What did it all mean? Thankfully, she didn’t have long to ponder, because Simeon rose to his feet, towering over them.
Joseph stood, too. “I’ll help with the horses.”
She wanted to protest, ask him not to leave her here. She’d almost rather go help tend the horses and fight off wolves if it meant Joseph would be with her. But a look at Emma stilled her racing heart.
“We’ll take care of things here.” Emma spoke to the men but kept her calming amber eyes on Monti. As though she could read her impulsive desire.
Monti inhaled a steadying breath and nodded. She was a Bergeron. She didn’t need a man to lean on. Especially not when someone—or something, in the case of this poor dog—needed her.
