Sampson tucked his chin and curled into himself as much as he could with his arms tied behind him. His body trembled from the cold seeping into his bones. Pain radiated from his shoulder and ribs, a relentless throbbing he couldn’t escape.
One of the guards had tossed a blanket on him earlier, but he had no way to spread it, so the fabric pooled on his lap.
He squeezed his eyes shut. There was no way to escape this misery. What he wouldn't give for a full dose of Dinah's laudanum to numb the agony. Or better yet, to be back in the warmth and safety of his family's cabin, with Grace at his side.
He could almost feel her small hand in his as they sat near the fire, her gentle touch soothing away the hurt. Even better, to have her curled up next to him under the quilts, her soft curves fitted against him, chasing away the bitter cold. The mere thought of her brought a flicker of warmth to his chest, a tiny respite from this relentless torment.
Around him, the camp had fallen silent. Some of the men pitched tents to keep out the wind and moisture. Others bedded down under furs closer to the fires. A few snores drifted through the darkness, mingling with the crackling of flames.
The four guards on watch stood or sat around the edges of the clearing. The man closest to Sampson was a fellow he’d never met. Roy, someone had called him. He sat on a tall stump near one of the fires, his back to the flame, facing the darkness with his rifle at the ready. He wore leathers and a fur hat like a man familiar with this country.
Every so often, he glanced Sampson’s way. He didn’t seem worried about him escaping. Sampson must look half dead, which was exactly the way he felt. How was he going to make it through the night like this, let alone find a way to get free and return to Grace and his family?
Were Jericho and Jonah out there watching? Surely, they wouldn’t try to rescue him. They’d be foolish to, with so many armed men here.
An icy wind swept over him, and he curled tighter, trying to conserve what little warmth he had left. The ropes bit into his wrists, the pain a sharp counterpoint to the throbbing ache of his injuries. He shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position, but there was no relief anywhere. His feet had gone numb, and he couldn’t feel his fingers.
How in the starry night sky could he possibly get free of this place? Even if he could cut himself loose and the guard turned a blind eye, he wouldn’t be able to stand and walk. He would die here, at the hands of these men. McPharland and Jedidiah…his father-in-law.
Grace. What would happen to her and Ruby? His family would take care of them. At least he’d done that right—bringing his wife and daughter to safety on the ranch.
He’d probably never see them again. A burn pressed in his chest, as strong as the ache in his broken arm. Grace’s face slipped in. So pretty, with those blue eyes and the quiet smile that made her glow from within. So beautiful. He’d never felt such longing. A yearning so big it stopped his breathing. What he wouldn’t give to see her. To hold her.
He’d been a blame fool to agree to a marriage in name only. Not when she stirred every part of him. He should have asked if he could court her. He should have at least told her how much she was coming to mean to him in such a short time.
Now, he’d never have the chance.
He squeezed his eyes shut against the pain. He could do nothing more. Breaking free of this misery would take a power much stronger than him.
A Power even stronger than his brothers.
A new pressure weighed inside him. He’d tried so hard to fix this entire debacle himself.He’dbeen the one to choose the wrong men to trust in the first place. That error had led McPharland’s men to his family’s mine, and they’d lost a year’s worth of earnings.
Maybe if he’d asked God for wisdom that first day in Missoula Mills, he’d not be in this situation. But by the time he realized his error, he’d thought he was in too deep for anyone to fix his mistakes except him.
Foolish, prideful man.
I’m sorry, God. I’ve messed up. More than can be fixed maybe. But if there’s a chance You can get us out of this, please save my family. Keep Grace and the baby safe. Everyone. And if You see fit, save my sorry hide too. Give me another chance with Grace. Show me how to be a real husband to her. The man she needs.
Tears burned his eyes, clumping as ice on his lashes. A second chance felt far too generous for a man who’d failed this miserably.
He opened his eyes and took in a breath, letting his head rest against the tree. He had no control of the situation anymore—if he’d ever had any to start with. Since the pain and cold wouldn’t let him sleep, he could spend the rest of his time praying for those he loved.
Thank You for Grace. For bringing her into my life. For the treasure she?—
Something shifted in the shadows outside of camp. He squinted to study the spot without making his attention obvious.
It was probably nothing. The moon drifting behind the clouds.
A dark shape moved again, low to the ground, sliding between the trunks of the pines. Not a cloud. A man. He melted into the trees and disappeared.
Sampson’s heart hammered. It must be one of his brothers.
Jericho and Jonah might be foolish enough to attempt a rescue, but if they were caught…he couldn't bear the thought of them ending up like him. Or worse.
The figure slipped closer, and Sampson caught a glimpse of the man's profile in the moonlight. Two Stones. Relief flooded through him, followed by a surge of fear. If Two Stones was caught, he'd be killed for sure.
A noise sounded across camp, and Sampson jerked his focus that direction. The guard did too.
