“Well? Haven’t I always taken care of you? You didn’t answer.” Something hard flashed in his gaze, and it made her entire body want to tense.
But she forced herself to stay relaxed in his arms, forced herself to nod. Not because she agreed with the statement but because she’d learned long ago that placating Richard was the fastest way to get away from him.
“Then surely you trust me to take care of you out here.”
“Yes.” This time she whispered her response rather than nodded, but the word didn’t make her feel any better. It only made her feel like a liar.
Because deep down she couldn’t stop herself from wondering if everyone else was wrong about how easy it would be to get back to the river.
4
Mikhail stood at the mouth of the canyon, staring into the narrow passage that cut through the mountain. Walls of rock rose steep and sheer on either side, so tight that only one person could pass through at a time. But there was no question that the prospectors had gone through it. The loose gravel held clear imprints from two sets of boots.
Mikhail took a deep breath, adjusting his pack against his back, then stepped into the canyon.
It was the perfect place for an ambush from above. Not that he was on poor terms with the Tahltan tribe, who lived along the Stikine and Iskut Rivers, or the Tlingit, who sometimes roamed this far inland. But being at the bottom of such a narrow canyon put him in a position of intense vulnerability, and he hadn’t spent the past decade surviving as a wilderness guide by being vulnerable.
He also didn’t like what would happen to the canyon when the first snowfall came. It would be impassable. Fortunately he was still on track to reach the prospectors before nightfall, and if he was fast enough, he might be able to ask them about the botanists and then head back through the canyon before camping for the night. He didn’t like the idea of having to traverse it again in the morning, especially considering the snow flurries that had already drifted over the mountain.
Up ahead, the canyon widened slightly, and Mikhail stepped into the small opening and pulled his canteen from his pack, taking a long swig of the cold, metallic-tasting water before setting off again. He rounded two more bends before a faint sound drifted to him. It was almost imperceptible at first, but it grew louder with each step.
Water.
He reached the next bend in the canyon and stopped. Ahead, the walls had grown slick and dark, streaked with the shimmer of water running down from high up on the rock. The water ran into a crevice on the far side of the canyon, and he had a feeling it would eventually emerge on the outer side of the mountain as a waterfall.
At the moment, he was merely grateful the water hadn’t frozen. He sloshed through it and rounded another bend to find the canyon suddenly opening up, dumping him into a wooded valley.
He paused for a moment, quiet and careful as he took in his surroundings, not knowing who or what was in this new valley. The mountain he’d spent most of the day hiking up now towered behind him, and a series of other smaller peaks jutted up above the trees. He had no idea if the canyon behind him was the only way in and out of the valley, but the ground revealed a startlingly fresh set of tracks at his feet.
Good. That meant he’d be having a conversation with the prospectors within the hour, giving him plenty of time to trek back through the canyon before nightfall.
Mikhail readjusted his pack on his shoulders, then climbed over a fallen log and started forward. A distant sound floated on the wind, and he turned his head, trying to discern which direction it had come from. Was it a voice or merely the sound of the wind howling through the canyon?
The sound reached him again, and this time he was close enough to hear the deep undertones of a man’s voice.
He slowed his steps, moving his sealskin mukluks quietly over the forest floor. The last thing he needed was to be greeted at gunpoint by a prospector who didn’t take kindly to being followed. When meeting strangers in the woods, it was far better to size up the men and their camp before making his presence known.
The voices grew louder, snippets of conversation filtering through the trees; then a flicker of movement caught his eye. Blue, sticking out like a beacon against the greens and browns of the forest.
“I’m quite pleased with the progress I made while you were gone.”
“We should have returned a few days sooner. I didn’t realize how much the weather had changed up here.”
“No, no. Don’t apologize. This gave me more time to work. Are you sure we can’t waylay our journey even a day?”
“You can’t mean that. You’re out of food.”
They’d run out of food? Mikhail frowned. The prospectors? They shouldn’t have. He’d come across two places where fish had clearly been cooked over a campfire, and he’d assumed the men had been snaring rabbits as needed along the way.
The words cut out for a second, then continued. “...been worried this whole time and not journaling much.”
“There’s nothing to worry about now that we’ve returned. But we’re leaving first thing in the morning. Finish your work tonight.”
Mikhail found a thick patch of brush and crouched low, allowing him to finally glimpse the two men. One wore a blue coat and another a brown one, though they were moving away from him, back toward a pristine turquoise lake that sat nestled amid a circle of mountain peaks and thick forest.
Three tents had been pitched on the far side of the lake, and he watched as the two men headed around the lake toward the camp, where two others came to greet them.
Mikhail frowned. That should be impossible. He’d followed two sets of footprints through the mountains, not four. Perhaps the prospectors had left half of their party here in the valley and gone to search for more gold? But that seemed strange. If there wasn’t any gold in this valley, why would any prospectors have stayed here? And if there was gold, why would only two prospectors have left?
