Chapter Three

      Belle’s arms clutched about Red’s waist. Feeling the fear and desperation in her little sister, she almost forgot the way her head pounded, the pain driving deeper with each thud of her mount’s hooves. She shivered, though the sun beat down with enough heat to bake biscuits on the dirt trail. Where were they going? She took some comfort in the fact it was the same direction as the ranch. She could always flee there for protection should the need arise. Of course that depended on how far Ward’s cabin was from the ranch. He rode a few feet ahead, leading the way. Why had he offered his cabin? Did he have an ulterior motive? Or was it born from knowing what it was like to receive the blows of fists?

      She urged the horse forward until she rode at Ward’s side. “Where is your cabin?”

      He pointed in the general direction of the ranch. Some help that was. Would it hurt the man to give exact directions?

      “It’s nothing like Eden Valley Ranch. For one thing it doesn’t have the backing of a rich family back in England. Nor does it have the thousands of acres of the Eden Valley land grant. But I’ll be able to run enough cows and horses to make a good living.” He sat easy in the saddle as only a cowboy used to long hours on the back of a horse could.

      Red shifted, wishing she could be half as comfortable. But her leg hurt almost as much as her head. She was tired and admittedly, a tad cranky. She didn’t need a cowboy to point it out to her.

      Ward continued talking as if his cabin was the most important thing in the world. Maybe it was to him. For her, it was only a place she would go to because she had no other option. Resolve drove away a great deal of her discomfort. She would find a place as soon as possible. She allowed herself to dream a little. Wouldn’t it be nice if Belle could attend school and later, they could celebrate Christmas together in their own home? She’d trim the tree with red ribbons tied in bows of various sizes. There would be gifts. Nothing extravagant. Perhaps a new dress for each of them. Warm mittens. Woolen coats. Maybe she could splurge for one extravagance. A storybook for Belle and a book of poetry for herself.

      Poetry? She mocked her dreams. How foolish. That pleasure belonged to the past. As did such dreams. She couldn’t afford half a penny candy let alone frivolous things. With every ounce of self-control she could muster, she jerked her attention back to Ward, who still talked about his place.

      “I wanted to get a simple cabin built first in the hopes of persuading my family to join me. Once they’re here, I figured there would be plenty of hands to help make it larger. Next spring, I hope to buy enough cows to start my own herd.” His voice rang with hope and pride.

      Red accepted that she had neither hope nor pride left. Nor was she bitter about it. Not with Belle safely behind her, Thorton locked up and a chance to make a better life for them.

      “Red,” Belle whispered. “When did you eat last?”

      She let the horse drop back and spoke low, hoping Belle would be the only one who heard. “Been a while. But we’ll manage. You and me, we’re survivors, remember? Nobody and nothing can defeat us. Especially not a little bit of hunger.”

      “I have an awful big hunger.”

      No doubt Old Mike never thought to feed a little girl. Red was glad Belle couldn’t see her face or she might guess at her anger. She could take all sorts of mistreatment, but it made her boil inside that people seemed to forget Belle was a child. Children should be protected, guarded, treated as gifts from God. They should never know anything but trust. “We’ll be okay. You’ll see.”

      Ward slowed until he rode beside her. “We’ll rustle up some food soon.” He’d overheard them.

      Seems the man was determined to stick his nose into everything she did. However, she was grateful for his help. Or was she? She gave a humorless smile. Not really. She didn’t want him or any man extending favors. If she never again saw another man or had to accept anything from a man’s hand, it would suit her just fine.

      They continued on the worn trail. Grass whispered as the wind passed over it. Birds scolded the intruders. The gentle scent of pine trees filled the air. They climbed a hill, the Rockies rising up in the distance.

      Belle leaned over to get a better view. “Are we going to live in the mountains?” Awe rounded her words.

      Red thought of all the places a person could hide in that rugged expanse. She’d heard men tell tales of treacherous cliffs and impassable barriers, but they’d also spoke reverently of roomy caves, rushing water and ideal camping spots. Where a man could live forever in peace with a boundless supply of fish to eat and fresh water to drink. It sounded ideal to Red’s ears. Ward shifted in the saddle to answer Belle’s question. “We’ll be pretty close to the mountains. Some mornings it feels like you can reach out and touch them right outside the window. But the distances are deceiving. It would take a hard day’s ride to get to the foot of one of those giants.”

      Despite her resistance to anything he might offer, he made the view from his cabin sound appealing. And the way his eyes flashed blue as if reflecting the sky back, Red found herself drawn into his description.

      “Every time I see them out the window, I think of a portion in the Bible, one of the Psalms, ‘They that trust in the Lord shall be as mount Zion which cannot be removed, but abideth for ever. As the mountains are round about Jerusalem, so the Lord is round about his people from henceforth and forever.’ Reminds me that God doesn’t change.”

      Belle sighed heavily. “Red says we don’t trust God anymore, even though Mama and Papa said we always should.” The accusation in her voice brought a choking argument to Red’s throat, but she would not list all her reasons in front of Ward.

      Ward pushed his hat back and gave Red an unblinking look. But rather than accusation or disapproval, she thought she saw sympathy. “Sometimes it’s hard to trust. Awfully hard.”

      She couldn’t jerk from his gaze and, as it deepened, something warm and gentle seemed to brush against a dark and angry spot buried deep within.

      With an effort, she shifted in her saddle, keeping her attention on things close by, ignoring the mountains. But again and again her gaze was drawn to the distance. If she could escape to the mountains. Find safety.

      Resignation sighed into her soul. Ward’s cabin would have to do. For now.