She turned to him. “You’re looking for your brother, though. Shouldn’t you stay with this group so they can take you to him?”
Again, Grant flicked his focus to White Horse before honing on her. His voice softened a little when he spoke. “I’ve questioned them enough that I think I can find Will with the directions they’ve given. I actually think he could be near the cluster of waterfalls on my map. At least, along that same river.” The lines at the corners of his eyes tightened. “I’d much rather travel with you than them. For one, we’ll be moving faster. I’ll reach Will sooner. And maybe I can help find Steps Right.”
His words drew a longing inside her. This way she wouldn’t have to say good-bye. Not yet, anyway.
She glanced back at White Horse. He still didn’t look happy about a stranger tagging along. Would he refuse to allow it? Even if she pleaded? Surely she wouldn’t have to resort to that. Surely these two men could simply get along.
She squared her shoulders and nodded to White Horse. “Grant is right. I trust him, and if we’re both going to thesame area, it makes sense we travel together.” She put all the pleading she could in her gaze, willing White Horse to understand.
At first, he barely looked at her. But when he did glance her way, he must have seen her silent begging. He blinked once, something he rarely did in conversation. It was almost as though he was trying to shake off the effects of her efforts to persuade.
She pressed harder, adding words. “He’ll be a benefit to us. I’d like to have him along.”
White Horse met her gaze once more, and his begrudging showed clearly in his slow nod. Then he turned his focus on Grant, his eyes as imposing as a stormy sky. “You ride with us.” Unspoken was a warning she didn’t want to unpack.
Relief eased through her, and she exhaled a shaky breath. “Good.” Turning, she leaned around the tree to see the rest of the group. “Do you think Parson will be angry at our leaving?”
“Maybe. I’ll do the talking.”
She looked at Grant, but he’d already started toward the others. So she turned back to White Horse. “Stay here. We’ll come back to you.”
She needn’t have bothered. White Horse would move around as he saw fit. But it felt good to say something, as if she had some modicum of control over this situation.
She didn’t. But pretending so helped the jumble of her nerves.
Was she making a mistake setting off with these two men? Men she cared about, though in different ways.
Men who’d already started off at odds with each other.
“Well, I must say it’s a relief to finally be a female again.”
Though his head still throbbed from being conked last night, Grant eyed Faith, who rode ahead of him, beside the brave. She’d always been a female, but he certainly didn’t need her to flaunt that fact. He’d had enough trouble keeping his thoughts reined in when she was plastering mud on her face and dressed in men’s garb. If she allowed her womanly features more visibility, well...
Beside her, White Horse sent her a look but didn’t say anything. The man was a quiet sort, but he spoke English well enough that his quiet seemed more from preference than difficulty with the language.
Faith had spoken of him as a partner with their ranch, that he’d become such a good friend she and her sisters thought of him like a brother. Grant hadn’t expected that to be as true as it now appeared to be.
She rolled her eyes at the man when she was flustered, used a pleading gaze that no man—brother or otherwise—could deny, and seemed so comfortable in his presence that she’d looked relieved to set off with himaloneinto the mountain wilderness. To a place where onlyheknew the route. He could intend any sort of harm and she would be an easy victim.
Grant hadn’t been able to let her go alone with the stranger. Even if White Horse really was as good a man as Faith thought him,helikely didn’t think ofheras a sister. What man could spend so much time around Faith Collins and not appreciate her spirit and determination? Where Faith was concerned, a single admiring thought quickly slid into an attraction that consumed far too much of his time.
Even if he could have no future with her—which he couldn’t, he had to keep reminding himself of that—he could at least help protect her virtue on this journey.
Appearances and reputations might mean next to nothing in this wild mountain country but being violated—or worse—would be devastating for her. He couldn’t let that happen.
He wouldn’t.
Parson hadn’t been pleased to lose his two camp keepers, but Grant did his best not to burn a bridge with the man, thanking him for allowing them to travel along this far. He’d left the pack mule with Parson, since both the animal and most of the supplies it carried belonged to the group.
As their trail climbed higher up the slope, the rocky ground turned more jagged. The sky was beginning to darken too, turning a steel gray that cast a pall over the air around them.
White Horse saw it too, for his gaze kept lifting upward. Finally, he spoke. “The rains come before dark. We make camp.” He shifted his mount off the trail, down the slope at an angle toward a cluster of tall pines growing on the mountainside. Hopefully they could also find water in the area.
As they dismounted, the wind picked up, rattling through the trees and tugging at his coat. They worked quickly to unfasten the packs they’d need, then White Horse took the animals. “I take to grass.”
There seemed such a small amount on this rocky slope, he’d have to move them frequently. But White Horse would find the heartiest section, no doubt.
Grant turned to Faith, who already knelt beside the food pack. “I’ll gather firewood. Then we can set up a cover before the rain starts.”
