She drew in a steadying breath. She had to stay the course. Had to focus on Steps Right. Had to trust that Grant would come back to her.
Did she dare ask God for His hand to ensure that happened? She couldn’t bring herself to. It seemed a selfish prayer, bothering God with a matter of the heart when He should be focused on much greater things.
“Your heart pulls two ways like river divided by stone.” White Horse’s deep voice spoke quietly beside her.
Faith nodded, blinking back silly tears. She couldn’t let herself be so emotional about this.
“Place him in God’s hands. Creator Father will work all for good if you ask Him to.”
Faith managed a small smile. “I was just thinking of that.” Though her thoughts hadn’t been so righteous.God, if it’s not too much to ask, bring Grant to us. To me.
She sighed, her hand lifting to the cord at her neck as a reminder of her mission. But her fingers didn’t feel the rough rawhide of the string holding the pouch of beads. Only the cotton of her dress. She reached higher, then casually slid her hand under the fabric, reaching all the way to her arm as her heart hammered.
She couldn’t have lost it.
She tried not to show the panic welling through her as she brushed her hand over the fabric at her waist. Maybe the cord had come untied, and the pouch slipped down in the layers of cloth.
She could feel no bulge under the material, though. White Horse didn’t show that he noticed her odd movements, but he probably saw them anyway. She had to get by herself so she could search thoroughly.
She turned back toward the waterfall. “I’m going to check on your mother.”
He didn’t answer and didn’t follow. As she prepared to step onto the first of the rocks that led to the ledge behind the falls, she glanced back to make sure she was alone.
Her pulse hammered as she paused in the cave opening where she would have enough light and room to move around, as well as protection from White Horse’s view by the falling water.
She patted the layers of her shirt but could feel nothing out of place. No bulge of leather or line of a rawhide string.It felt like a weight pressed on her chest, and her fingers trembled as she unfastened buttons. If she’d lost the beads ... what would her sisters say? What would Papa have said? He would be so disappointed.
She couldn’t fail him. Not like this.
But after she’d unfastened, searched, and refastened every piece of clothing, no sign of the pouch or the blue bead necklace had revealed itself.
Tears pressed hard against her eyes, but she couldn’t let them fall. She forced herself to breathe, to take in air and think through where she might have lost it.
She’d not removed the pouch from her neck at any point since tying it there before she left the ranch. In fact, she’d made a habit of feeling for the security of the cord each morning when she arose. Had she done so that morning?
Yes. It had definitely been there when she stood to follow Grant out to hunt. And when she’d settled in her saddle on Two Bit, she’d reached to make sure it was secure then also. She couldn’t remember feeling for it any time after that.
Had she lost it during the hunt? If not, it would be in the cave. She should check there first, then if she had to, she would retrace every step she’d walked or ridden that day. She had to find the beads. If she’d ruined her chance to accomplish her father’s dying wish, she might never find the peace she craved so deeply.
Steps Right was sitting in her usual place, and it looked like she’d been dozing. Faith gave her an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry if I woke you.” Then she refocused her gaze on the cave floor where she’d been sitting to make the pemmican.
“What seek?” Steps Right’s voice held the quaver of sleep.
Faith swallowed. “A pouch I was wearing around my neck. I think the cord broke.” She certainly couldn’t tell her what was inside.
There was no sign of the necklace here, so she turned back toward the entrance. “I’m going to look outside.” As she maneuvered the dark corridor, she scuffled her feet along the stone floor, feeling for the bag.
Still nothing.
When she reached the grassy bank, she studied the ground as she strode up the hill toward the horses. White Horse must have gone up to the animals already. He’d said he was planning to check their hooves this afternoon.
As she crested the hill, he was just lowering Two Bit’s left hind leg. He straightened and turned to watch her, but she kept her focus on the ground, though she could feel his gaze.
She would have to tell him. What would he do? If he told his mother she’d lost the beads ... the heirloom that so many generations of her family had treasured and worked so hard to protect ... She couldn’t breathe, so she pushed that thought aside.
He wouldn’t show his anger. He would be fair. And he would help look. They had to find it before they left this place tomorrow morning.
She made herself walk toward him, though she scanned the ground with each step. At last, she halted at Two Bit’s head and stroked the gelding’s face as she gathered her courage.
