White Horse sprang to his feet, and before Grant could do the same, Ol’ Henry’s voice whispered from the other side of the fire. “What’s wrong?”
He stood and scanned the darkness, moving in the opposite direction from where White Horse had begun to search. He stepped sideways to avoid Running Bear’s bound form. “Flies Ahead is—”
The shadows in front of him came alive, and Grant stumbled backward, raising his gun to aim against the unseen threat. Running Bear. How had he come untied?
A feral snarl rumbled through the air, cut off by the blast of a rifle as the shot lit the night. Grant’s vision flashed as his mind scrambled to catch up with what had happened.
The gunshot had come from White Horse’s direction, and even now, White Horse leapt to the fallen brave’s side. The injured man lay curled into a ball as he moaned. White Horse scooped up a knife from beside him. That must be how the braves got loose, but how did they obtain the blade?
Grant spun to scan the area.Flies Ahead.Where was he? He must have cut his own ropes, then freed his compatriot. Had he already escaped?
Another thought surged in, this one making him whirl toward the cave. “The women!”
He sprinted toward the falls, footsteps thundering behind him. Were all the men coming with him? Maybe someone should have stayed with Running Bear, but he couldn’t worry about that right now.
Flies Ahead was a far bigger threat.
An image slipped in his mind of the way the brave’s eyeshad flashed with hatred as they tied him on his horse. There had been murder in his gaze. He wouldn’t be swayed from killing Steps Right. And maybe the other women if he could. Rosemary.Faith.
He reached the boulders that lined the river leading to the falls. In the darkness and with the mist, he could make out no sign of Flies Ahead. Was the man lurking in the trees somewhere? Watching them? Waiting to pick them off with a stolen gun?
He couldn’t slow down to search the woods yet. He had to make sure the women were safe first.
“Quick!” White Horse’s sharp call drove Grant forward, and he jumped onto the first boulder.
He’d picked his way through here so many times, he knew where the slippery places were. White Horse would know the same, but not Dragoon or Ol’ Henry.
He slowed long enough to call back to them, “Be careful.” It looked like the trappers were already slowing to maneuver the rocks. Good.
He refocused on getting to the falls, leaping through the thin curtain of water at the edge. He landed on the ledge behind the falls but had to wait for his eyes to adjust to the darkness.
A shadow moved in the distance, near the cave opening.
Grant charged forward. “Stop!” Not that he expected the brave to halt at his command, but it would warn the women.
Behind him, White Horse yelled too, but in the high-low cadence of the Blackfoot language.
From inside the cave, a scream echoed.
“Faith!” He couldn’t tell for sure if it was her, but he had to get to her.
As he rounded the corner into the cave opening, he slipped on a wet spot. He scrambled to catch his footing and pushed into the thick darkness.
Flies Ahead could be lying in wait for them anywhere. In the depths of the cave, all had fallen quiet.
Lord, don’t let them be hurt. He pushed aside the image that tried to crowd in of all three women massacred.Protect them, Lord.
He kept pushing forward, feeling ahead as he maneuvered the pitch-black corridor. “Faith? Is Flies Ahead in there?”
Before he could hear her answer, a shadow jumped out at him. He lifted his rifle to block the blow, but a powerful force slammed into him, knocking him onto his back.
It had to be Flies Ahead. Grant struggled to push the body off him.
Fire burned along his upper arm. From a knife?
Scuffling sounded, and Flies Ahead moved away from him. That had to be White Horse’s doing, but Grant could see nothing in the thick darkness.
He yelled a warning. “A knife! He has a knife.”
