“I’m sorry.” His words came quick and soft. But the next ones meant even more. “It’s hard when something important gets taken away from you. Then lost.”
She studied him. He spoke as though he’d experienced a similar loss. He didn’t look like he would say more, so she asked. “What was taken from you?”
He sent another sideways look. “My brother. After our parents died, he was young enough that a family wanted him for their own. The day they took him away, I promisedI’d find him. That I’d keep us together.” He stared into the darkness ahead. “I didn’t keep that promise for a lot of years, but that’s why I’m out here now. Trying to find him.”
She blinked, then glanced at the night around them. “Your brother’s here?”
“Not in this exact spot.” A smile played at the corner of his mouth. “But in this western territory somewhere. Skeet and Hooper said they met a man named Will Sheldon last winter who was staying in a cabin along the Shaheela River. That’s why I’m traveling with this group. They’re headed back to that place.”
Pleasure washed through her. “You’re going to be reunited. That’s wonderful.” She touched his arm to congratulate him. The contact seemed to surprise him, so she turned it into a light shake. “I’m so pleased for you both. How long has it been?”
His eyes glimmered with amusement as he watched her. “Fourteen years.”
She pulled her hand from his arm. “I can’t wait to meet him myself.” And it was probably time the two of them returned to camp before she made an even greater spectacle of herself.
After pushing up to her feet, she dusted the dirt from her hands. “All right, then. Let’s be off.”
TEN
Grant studied the camp from his position at its edge as he stood watch later that night. He was supposed to be staring outward, searching for any sign of predators—human or otherwise. But he couldn’t shake the pull Faith seemed to have on him. A draw strong enough that he’d told her about Will.
He’d only mentioned the stars on a whim—that alone should have warned him how close she was getting. But then she’d shared about her horse and her mother and the rocks. And she’dlostthose rocks.
He knew how loss could eat at your soul. Chip away until you would do almost anything to repair the damage. She might never be able to find those exact stones, but he had a feeling that loss played into her determination to find this Indian woman.
They had this in common—the two of them. The ripping away of something special, and the desperate search to make it right again.
He let his gaze linger once more on the shadowed place where she slept, a little apart from the others. He didn’tmind keeping watch. Not when it allowed him to ensure she stayed safe.
He turned back to scan the land around them—just as a powerful blow struck the side of his head.
Black swam through Grant’s vision, but he struggled to keep himself upright. To fight back against whatever struck him.
Help. He needed to alert the others.
A shadow moved in front of him, and he lifted his hands to block another blow. Cold metal struck his face and arm, and he cried out as the force of it knocked him backward.
He grabbed at a tree to catch his balance and blinked to see through the haze of his mind and the dark of the night.
His cry had sounded the alarm, for shouts echoed from the camp. How many attackers would they have to ward off?
His gaze finally focused, but no one was in front of him. Not that he could make out.
He forced himself to turn, gripping tighter to the trunk as his vision spun. Trees lined the creek beside him, looking too much like people.
“What happened?” Parson said from just behind him, and Grant jumped at the sudden loudness.
“Someone attacked.” His hand came up to where the first strike hit just behind his temple. That was the hardest, though his face stung from the second attack. “Hit me.”
Parson shouted commands to the others, but Grant didn’t worry about keeping up with the words. His head throbbed like a smithy struck a blow with every beat of his heart. He leaned against the tree and clutched his skull in both hands, trying to lessen the pounding.
“Where are you hurt?” Faith’s voice sounded beside him,far quieter and less painful than Parson’s had been. Her hand rested on his shoulder. “Come back to the fire so I can see. Can you walk?”
He eased upright and took a step away from the tree. His head swam and his vision blurred, but he turned in the direction the camp should be. Her hand stayed on his shoulder, her fingers gentle and warm. He shouldn’t let her see so much weakness, but in truth, he might not have made it to the fire without her guiding.
When they reached the center of camp, her hand pressed down on his shoulder. “Sit on this log.”
He bent his legs and thankfully landed on the stump they’d used for a bench by the fire.
