He pressed a piece into her hand, and she put it in hermouth to chew. The taste did seem to ease the unrest in her middle. She opened her eyes and focused on chewing. Once she swallowed, he fed her another. After she’d downed three bites, her head finally shifted from pounding to a quieter ache, and she could think more clearly.
She turned her gaze to Grant and let her own eyes roam his face. Taking in every handsome feature. Every strong line. Every mark she loved. He wore several days’ scruff. Enough that some might call it a beard.
He looked wonderful. So much her heart welled so full it ached.
“You had me worried.”
She lifted her focus to his eyes, sinking deep in their earnest depths.
It still seemed too wonderful that he was here. The last she’d seen him, he was riding away to find his brother. But something had changed that. She swallowed to clear her throat. “Did you find Will?”
He shook his head. “After I’d ridden about an hour, I discovered your pouch with the necklace in my saddlebag. I knew you would be frantic when you realized you lost it, so I turned around and rode back to the waterfall. Before I got there, White Horse found me and told me you both were missing.” His gaze flicked up to Steps Right, then he refocused on her. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so worried in my life.”
She reached for Grant’s hand, and he wove his fingers between hers. “God brought us through.” She smiled at him, something she could do much easier now with a bit of strength returned.
Grant lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss tothe backs of her fingers, then held them against his chest. “I know. I ... still can’t believe it.”
She searched his eyes. “Did you hear what I said? When he had the gun on me?” That part she could remember well. That desperate need to tell Grant the most important things.
His eyes sparked, maybe at the memory of the danger. “You mean when my heart nearly stopped? I can’t believe you took such risks. He would have killed you.”
Then his gaze turned earnest again. So intense it made her lightheaded. “I heard every word. It nearly undid me.” He lifted her fingers to kiss them again, then curled them back against his chest. “I did what you said. I opened myself to God. I didn’t think He cared. But He showed me.”
Even through her exhaustion, joy welled through her. Tears blurred her vision, and one or two slipped out before she could wipe them away. “Grant.” She sniffed, blinking so she could see him clearly.
He leaned forward to brush his thumb across her cheek, maybe clearing away another drop. “And as for that other, I don’t think it’s fair that you got to tell me you love me first.” A touch of sadness tinged his gaze. “But I suppose that’s what I needed to kick me forward.”
He gathered her other hand so he was holding them both against his chest. She relished the feel of his cotton shirt. The warmth of his body, whole and uninjured. The way he was looking at her as though she mattered more to him than anything else in the world.
“I love you too, Faith Collins. I don’t have words for how much.” His voice cracked in a way that threatened to bring on the tears again. “I still don’t know how I came to be lucky enough to have your love.” He paused. “Or God’s.”
She stroked a thumb across the back of his hand. Just a little nudge of encouragement.
“But I’m thankful for you both. I almost lost you today, and it made me realize how thickheaded I was being.” He paused to study her. Maybe he was waiting for her to answer, but the hope inside her was too strong for her to speak.
“I don’t want to be separated from you again. I know I need to ask for your hand officially.” His brows lowered. “To your sisters. And maybe White Horse too.”
She smiled and nodded—just a little, for the movement made her head pound. “Probably all of them.”
He dipped his chin. “All of them, then. But until I can, I’m staking my claim here and now.”
He shifted so he held her hands in one of his, then leaned forward to cup her head with the other, his thumb brushing her cheek. “I love you, Faith Collins, and I don’t plan to let you go ever again.”
TWENTY-TWO
Faith fought through her headache as she eyed the outline of the two braves riding ahead of her on the trail back to the waterfall. Flies Ahead and Running Bear sat with their hands tied behind them and feet bound beneath each mount’s belly. Grant rode with Running Bear’s horse tethered to his own, and White Horse held the rope for Flies Ahead’s mount.
There was almost no chance these two could get away. Yet Flies Ahead’s anger was apparent in the rigid set of his shoulders, and she could still remember the hatred in his eyes as White Horse and Grant secured him on the animal. He would escape if he could possibly find a way. And if he did, his vengeance would have no bounds.
“Almost there.” Grant’s voice drifted over his shoulder as the sound of the waterfall hummed in the air. “I see the river through the trees.”
A weight eased off her chest as the sound of the falls grew louder. They still had decisions to make—what to do with these two kidnappers, and who would go with Grant to find his brother. But at least they were back at the waterfalland cave, where they would have food and protection while they worked through the next plans. And she could finally lie down and close her eyes against the pounding in her head.
She’d felt much better before they left Flies Ahead’s camp that morning. But a long day in the saddle, jolting and jostling as the horses climbed and descended slopes, had worsened her pain so much that flashes of light sometimes seared her vision.
Soon, she could rest.
When they rode into the clearing, she caught a glimpse of something that made her gasp. There, near the base of the waterfall, sat three very familiar horses.
