CHARITY'S GOLD RUSH (A Strike It Rich in Montana novel) (43 page)

             
She
set the furs down and
made her way through the milling villagers
, dodging small children and dogs
. “
Who are these men?”

             
“Bad men.
They take our furs and try to take our women.
” Red Feather clapped a hand on her shoulder. “Hide.”

She shook her head. “
I must leave. I cannot be taken by the
se men
. Please, understand. I only want to go home.
If they catch me, they will only detain me
,
” Or worse. “M
y heart already aches more than I can bear
.

             
He nodded. “Good luck. May God go with you.”

             
“He will.”
She placed a hand on his arm. “Will you be all right?”

             
He nodded. “Red Feather will be fine.”

“I will keep you and your people in my prayers.”
Lifting the hem of her fringed skirt, Charity
limped ran
into the woods.

             
A shot echoed across the snow-covered village.
Charity
increased her
pace. Her leg screamed
.
Behind her, someone yelled for her to stop. Hooves pounded.

She
dodged fallen trees and boulders.
If she didn’t find a place to hide soon, the
man
would capture her.
Lord, help me!

###

             
Gabe stood beside the corral and stared
in the direction of
the mountain pass as he had done for the past two days.
Each morning he climbed out of bed, fixed breakfast for the children, and went about his chores. All the while his heart yearned to search for Charity.

             
If she were still alive, did she think he had abandoned her? How could she possibly survive in the wilderness this long? She had no food or water. Did she know how to obtain any?

             
He
forked more hay
to the cattle. The children moped around the house worse than when Maggie had died. Of course, they were awful
ly
young then. They most likely didn’t remember their first ma very much.

             
Cattle taken care of, Gabe headed to the barn, thanking God the snowed had stopped and the sun shone bright, its rays glancing off the pristine whiteness. Normally, he enjoyed the view. Today, all he could focus on was the possibility of Charity being lost in nature’s harshness.
Again, he had failed to take care of his wife. To keep her safe.

             
When he had woke that morning and caught a glimpse of her dress hanging on a nail and her apron slung over a chair, he’d choked back a sob. Married less than a year and the loss of her left his life empty.

             
After checking that the horses were cared for, Gabe headed back to the house. Meg and Sam sat working on their numbers. Charity’s scarlet velvet cloak lay draped across the foot of his bed where he laid it each morning when he woke. Having it near him and being able to touch it, brought a small measure of comfort to his aching heart.

             
He probably shouldn’t keep it so close. Most likely, it wasn’t healthy. He sat in his chair and stared into the flames.

             
“Pa?” Sam put a hand on Gabe’s shoulder, pulling him from his thoughts. “Have you given up on Ma coming home?”

             
“I can’t leave you to make it over the pass.”

             
“Don’t you trust God to take care of her?” Sam knelt beside him. “He chose to take our other ma home, He might want to take this one, but until we know for sure, we shouldn’t give up hope.”

             
Gabe ruffled his hair. “You’re right, son. When did you become so wise?”

             
“You taught me. In the Bible stories you read.” Sam flashed a grin
, warming Gabe’s heart
.

             
Gabe had a mighty high opinion of himself to think he could do better than God at keeping people safe. It wasn’t G
abe
’s decision when it was a person’s time to be called home.
Sure, he could be sad about losing Maggie, and possibly Charity, but it wasn’t because he didn’t do his part to keep them safe.

             
“Son, you’ve lifted my spirits. There is still hope, and I think the situation deserves something special.” He had done nothing but mope around for two days, and that type of behavior was no good for the children. “I believe there is enough cocoa powder left for some hot chocolate.”

             
Sam and Meg cheered.
Meg grabbed the kettle off the top of the stove while Sam took mugs off the shelves. Charity’s blue tin mugs.
If he had to do so every minute, Gabe would continue to remind himself that God was in control. Each time sorrow reared its ugly head, Gabe would need to hand the situation back over to God.

             
“I’m right proud of the way the two of you kept things going while I was gone the other day,” he said, taking his customary place at the head of the table. “I pray I never have to be gone that long again, but if I ever should, and you feel the need, go to Hiram and Mab
e
l.”

             
Sam measured the cocoa powder into their mugs. “We were thinking on that the other day. If you hadn’t come by daybreak, we would have rode my pony over. Don’t worry, Pa. We can handle things around here. You worry about fetching Ma once the pass clears.”

             
Gabe poured hot water into the mugs. “You really think she’s on the other side, do you?”

             
Sam nodded. “Yep, saw it in a dream. She’s making her way back to us.”

             
That night, before Gabe crawled into bed, he hung Charity’s cloak back on its peg where it belonged.
He stroked the fabric, then turned down the lamp. God would take care of Charity. Gabe had to only trust him. For the first time in two nights, he closed his eyes, rolled over, and slept.

             

35

             
Charity peered from her
hiding place beneath a mound of leaves and debris as two soldiers rode slowly past.
Tobacco smoke whirled around them.
She held her breath
to ward off a sneeze
and prayed they would hurry
past
.

             
“She couldn’t have gone far,” one of them said. “You would think a white captive would want to go back to her people.”

             
“Maybe she’s been with the Injuns for too long. Doesn’t know she isn’t one of them.”

             
“Reckon you’re right
. Some captives forget how to act white.
I ain’t gonna ride around in this cold all day. Let’s head back to the village and help round the others up.
That’s more fun anyway.
Did you see them run?

He laughed, the noise startling birds from the trees.

             
They turned, leaving Charity alone. She expelled her breath and closed her eyes
, laying her head on her folded hands. Her leg hurt so much
she wanted to cry
, and she was s
o close to having her plans
to return home
thwar
ted.
She would not be captured! If she were, she would l
ie
down and die.

             
She could hear screams from the village and the occasional cry of a child.
She would need to remain hidden until the sounds quieted. Her heart ached for her new friends, and she prayed their rounding up would not result in any injuries or deaths.
She wondered why Gabriel never mentioned Red Feather’s tribe was destined for the reservation.

             
What would it be like to have someone dictate where
she should
live? There were times in her life when she felt as if she had no freedom, but never to the extent of being rounded up like cattle and shuffled off to a land that didn’t belong to her.

             
When sounds from the village ceased, and no hoof beats pounded the forest trails, Charity climbed from her sanctuary. Her few hours of rest calmed the ache in her leg to a degree she felt ready to commence her journey. As a precaution, she searched for a stout stick to aide her progress. Finding one that her hand comfortably wrapped around, she set off with a smile on her face. By
evening
, she would gaze again upon Gabriel’s and the children’s faces
and warm herself in front of her own fire
.

             
The sun s
a
t high in the sky by the time she reached the blocked pass. With the temperature warming a bit
during the day, and freezing at night
, she hoped the snow was packed hard enough for her to
travel across
.
She tested the firmness with her stick.
The crust seemed strong, and if she jammed her stick in enough, she could make steps to climb to the top
. She lifted a prayer of thanks, and
placing
her stick before her foot, set off across the expanse of white.

             
A few times, she s
a
nk to her knee or her
hip
, but she kept going despite the bone-numbing chill and increasing pain from her recent wound. Her mouth dried and her stomach rumbled, yet she still moved forward. Determination fueled her steps. The desire to see her family warmed her from the inside out.

             
She pushed aside the thought that she might, at that moment, be walking across Amos’s grave. Instead of rejoicing, she prayed for God’s mercy for a man so eaten up with bitterness that he had resorted to violence and evil intentions. It surprised her to realize she actually felt sorry for him.

             
A rabbit darted
past her
. Charity stifled a scream, then gave a nervous giggle. If only she had a rifle. Her stomach growled louder.

             
The creek would most likely be at the bottom of the mountain. S
he switched directions, sliding a few feet until she reached a small waterfall cascading into a brook. She cupped her hands and drank her fill of the icy water, and wished she had
a container
to carry some with. God had provided the water, He would see her home safely.

             
Straightening, she studied her surroundings, deciding which direction she should go. Down the mountain
,
for sure. The creek that ran in front of the soddy would take her home if she found it and followed it
in the correct direction
.
Standing around wouldn’t get her home and faster.
Slipping and sliding, she made her way down to level ground.

             
She
prayed she would find it soon before frost bite set in her fingers and toes. Moccasins were not the warmest footwear she had ever had
, and her trip down the small cliff to the water had not done her leg any good
.

             
There! She increased her limping gait at the sight of a frozen silver ribbon, winding its way home.

###

             
Gabe
sank
the axe into a chunk of wood
. Two pieces of wood fell to the side. They most likely had enough stacked against the soddy to last the winter, but his hands needed to be kept busy. His gaze, despite last night’s revelation that God would take care of Charity, still roamed too often to the tree line.

             
The sun had begun its descent. Another night fell with Charity gone. He plunked the axe into the tree stump and popped the kinks from his back. It would take self-discipline not to grab Charity’s cloak and wrap himself in it when he slept. Last night, he had promised himself he wouldn’t do that again. Doing so was admitting defeat. That she was gone for good.

             
Lady
plopped on the ground next to him. She
rarely left his side since they had returned from their search. She lay to his right, her soulful eyes trained on him. Her ears p
ricked
, and a low woof sounded deep in her throat. The bark quickly turned to a whine, and she dashed toward the creek.
Gabe turned
and squinted through the dusk
.

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