Faith in the Mountain Valley Page 10

  But he could contemplate that line of thought later. For now, he had to think clearly about what Colette needed. And how he might get this one answer before she fell back asleep.

  Her lips parted again, and he stilled, straining for any response she might give.

  "He was…killed."

  Her husband had been murdered? Was that why Colette was hiding? Did the man seek her life too? He grabbed a firm hold of his thoughts before they raced off to form new scenarios. Better he simply ask.

  "Why? Are you afraid of the murderer? Is that why you're disguised as a man?"

  Her mouth worked, but no sound came out. Her lips weren't as bright red as they had been in the night. In fact, nearly all the color had leaked out of them. Her face was as pale as it had been when he found her.

  He was pushing her too far. The next words she spoke confirmed it.

  "No…more." Her voice was faint. So weak.

  With his free hand, he reached up to run his fingers down her temple. "Rest now. Do you want water before you sleep?"

  She parted her lips wider in confirmation, and he obliged. Lifting her head, pouring in a sip. Then another. She managed a third drink, then closed her mouth.

  He eased her head back down, pulled the blanket up around her shoulders, then brushed her forehead once more. "Sleep now. I'll be here when you need me."

  And in the meantime, he had much to work out in his mind. By the time she woke again, he needed to have a plan.

  French had plenty of time to work out his plan. Colette slept all morning and didn't wake again until the sun had nearly reached its noon zenith.

  By then, he'd sorted through most of his thoughts. And taken the horses to water again, then hobbled them with new grass. He'd also started a fire and figured out a way to make a stew of sorts. He had no metal dishware, so he’d had to be creative to make the water simmer.

  After placing two rocks about a handbreadth apart, he moved a stoked fire between them. He found the best of his meat and broke it into pieces small enough to fit inside one of the water skins. Colette had mentioned eating bad meat, but these chunks were from his own supply, food he'd roasted himself just the day before. They’d been cooked well and salted enough to last for weeks without turning rancid.

  After putting the meat and water in the canteen, he placed it across the rocks where the flame almost reached the leather casing. The heat would definitely warm the liquid inside, and if he was lucky, it would be enough heat to simmer the water into broth.

  In the meantime, he found some good healthy cedar and started carving out a bowl.

  Colette didn't make a sound when she awoke, but something drew his attention to her. Perhaps the flicker of her eyelids. Or maybe just the awareness of her he’d always possessed.

  He worked for a smile—not a hard effort when even a glance at her brought happiness. “Thirsty again?"

  In answer, she parted her mouth, her usual sign she was ready to drink. After giving her a few sips of water, he reached for the canteen with the meat inside. "I'm trying to make some broth, but I don't know how it's worked without a pan. Let’s see."

  The leather was almost too hot to touch. Maybe he should have pulled it away from the flame earlier so the liquid could cool. When he touched a drop to his finger, he had to bite back a wince. "We’d better let this cool a minute."

  He kept the conversation light while they waited. It wasn't a conversation exactly, just him filling the air with words. But he told her of all he’d done that morning. About the creek at the bottom of the mountain, the bowl he was carving, and how her mare was enjoying the new grass.

  Colette moved her hand, lifting it a little off the ground. Reaching for him. He slipped his fingers around hers, pressing their palms together to seal the connection.

  A knot clogged his throat. He couldn't lose this woman. God, don't let me lose her. She'd definitely brought him back to prayer, a feat no one else could've accomplished. He hadn't quite had a heart-to-heart with the Almighty, but maybe he would get there. Maybe.

  Finally, the stew cooled enough for him to pour a little into her mouth. The liquid wasn't very dark, but hopefully she would get at least a few nutrients.

  She drank more than he’d expected her to. When he lay her head back on the ground, a noise sounded near her belly.

  A smile tickled his mouth. "Still hungry, are you?"

  She parted her lips, but this time it was to speak. "Do you have…meat?"

  Hope nudged inside him. "I'll give you a piece that's been boiling in the broth. That should be softer."

  Getting the chunk out of the flask wasn't easy, but he finally pulled out a small bit and placed in her mouth. The act of feeding her seemed intimate, leaving his focus on her lips long after she took the meat between her teeth. He forced his gaze away, down the length of her to see whether there was something else he could do to make her comfortable.

  His attention stalled on her belly. There was a tiny swell there, not large enough that he would have noticed it if he hadn’t known the truth.

  Yet he did know. The wonder of new life was growing and forming inside her. Part of him longed to reach out and touch the place, though he never would. He shouldn't even think it. But something inside him yearned for that connection with a baby he didn’t even know.

  Once again, he tore his gaze away, but this time he made himself look away from Colette altogether.

  He had to focus on his plan. On giving her the care she needed to grow strong again. Healthy enough to get back to their group. Young Bear and the others seemed like good men, what little he knew of them. At least when strong drink hadn’t affected their senses.

  Their camp would be a safe place for Colette to recover completely. Especially since French would be there to protect her, to help with whatever she needed—whether that be safety or care while she recovered.

  Eventually, he'd like to take her to the Nimiipuu village to catch up with his friends. Elan, Susanna, and the other women would dote on her. Susanna was with child herself, maybe only a little farther along than Colette. He'd need to learn the exact date from Colette when he could, but that question could wait until later.

  And no matter what, he wouldn't be letting her skin any more animals, not unless their need grew dire. Perhaps he should tell the braves that she was a woman. He was fairly certain they’d guessed it anyway.

  If they hadn't, would the knowledge put her in danger? He would give his life to protect her, but he might have to do that very thing if he were forced to fight five braves at once.

  He didn't think it would come to that, though. Everything he'd seen of Young Bear made him think well of the man—except for the drunkenness the other night, but the braves hadn’t partaken nearly as much as their visitors. Still, better not to chance things. As hard as it was to fathom, she'd probably been smart to attempt to disguise herself as a man.

  For now, he had to focus on getting her well. She definitely wouldn't be ready to return to the others today, so he needed to start thinking about what they would need in order to spend another night here.

  A much more comfortable night than the last one.

  Chapter 13

  Colette's belly ached, drawing her from sleep again. She squinted to measure the daylight. The sunlight seemed dim, like early morning or dusky evening. Was this still the same day, or had she slept through another night? Jean-Jacques sat beside her, as he’d been every other time she'd awakened.

  He'd saved her life.

  She’d become so weak by the time he appeared, she would never have made it to her horse and the drinking flask hanging from the saddle. She'd already felt her body shutting down for want of water.

  But he’d brought her back, little by little. God had used him to keep her here for a reason—for the young life growing inside her. You'll do great things, little one. Your Heavenly Father is already preparing you.

  As if in answer, her belly gnawed again. That must be the babe crying out for food.

&n
bsp; French uncorked the canteen and reached to lift her head for a drink. She obeyed, gulping down the refreshment.

  She needed food too. Maybe with sustenance in her, she could manage more than a few words. Though she'd said everything she could about Raphael's death. There wasn’t a single other detail about that ordeal that would be safe to share.

  She'd needed to tell Jean-Jacques as much as she had, though. The questions in his eyes had grown too numerous to hold him off much longer. With what she'd revealed, his curiosity seemed satisfied.

  Determination had taken its place, and that might be a good thing. Jean-Jacques had always been her champion, and she had no doubt he would do what he could to help her now. It hadn’t seemed safe to let him before. But now…

  At least for a while, she couldn't manage without him. Don't let me have made the wrong choice, Lord. Protect this man. A memory flashed of his father, eyes bloodshot from his last drunken binge. And protect me, too, from him.

  If things turned bad—if the worst happened and Hugh and Louis found her—she would flee. And this time, she would do a better job of hiding herself.

  She prayed it wouldn't come to that.

  French awoke that night to a tingle running down his spine. His nerves stood at alert, straining.

  Colette?

  He studied her face, still and quiet beside him. Had she groaned? Her lips were parted to let air pass through. He shifted his focus to her chest, which rose and fell in steady rhythm.

  An eerie howl sounded from the night. A shiver swept through him.

  Wolves. That was what had awakened him. They weren't far away. How many?

  He sat up, reaching for his rifle. He’d not laid it beside him when he bedded down but had left the weapon with the packs at his feet. He’d been more focused on making sure the canteen was full and having food nearby in case she woke hungry.

  He couldn't let himself lose sight of protecting her, though. Colette wasn't safe—whether it was man or beast seeking her.

  Another howl sounded, this one from the opposite direction.

  And close. As he cocked his rifle, he strained to see into the darkness. No eyes glittered back at him, but they must be just outside of the firelight.

  He glanced toward the horses. The animals stood at attention, their ears flicked backward in worry. He’d brought them near enough the firelight to see them well. The wolves would probably attack the animals first.

  He pushed up to his feet, fixing the weapon against his shoulder so he could fire when needed.

  Another howl pierced the night, this one on the other side of the horses. He strode that direction. He didn’t want to shout and wake Colette, but a wolf attack would wake her anyway. Better to scare the creatures off before they hurt something.

  He positioned himself by the horses in a place where he could still see Colette. "Get away!" He barked out the command, but his words seemed to only fade into the darkness.

  Another howl rose from the other side of Colette. The predators had surrounded their camp.

  He charged toward the sound and yelled, "Get away!"

  Colette was stirring, but he kept his focus on the darkness around them, straining for the sound of movement.

  There. Was that a pair of beady eyes in the shadows beyond Colette?

  "Get away!" He stomped toward the animal, making himself as big as he could manage. He kept his rifle pointed toward the creature.

  Another howl echoed to his left, releasing a burst of panic inside him. Shouting wasn’t sending the creatures away. He had to make more noise. Spinning toward the sound, he tucked his chin to aim the rifle.

  With the shift of his finger, a blast filled the air, gunpowder puffing around him. He whirled and dropped to his knees by his shot pouch to reload. In less than a minute, he’d recharged the gun and jumped to his feet, aiming in the direction he'd seen the eyes.

  The beady circles were gone.

  He strained for sign of movement.

  Nothing.

  For long moments he stayed like that, listening. His nerves on edge. Senses strained.

  No more howling. Had the single bullet scared them away? Better send out another just in case.

  This time, he moved around Colette so he wasn't shooting over her and aimed at the exact place he'd seen the beady eyes. The blast ricocheted in his ears, and the gunpower stung his nose.

  He reloaded just as quickly as before, but there was still no sound of movement except the shifting of the horses. They'd dropped their heads down again, though, so maybe the danger truly was gone.

  He finally lowered his focus to Colette, keeping part of his attention tuned to sounds around them.

  Her eyes were wider than he'd seen them since he found her the night before. The fear in her gaze twisted his chest.

  "I think the wolves are gone. A gunshot has always scared them off before."

  Her shoulders twitched like a shiver ran through them. Fear? Or cold?

  He dropped to his knees by her side, though he still held his gun in his shooting hand. "Are you cold?" He pulled the blanket up over her shoulders.

  "Just…glad you're here."

  The words slipped through him with enough warmth to stir his soul. He met her gaze. He could drown in those blue depths. "I am too."

  One of the horses shifted, and he jerked his focus back toward the animal. Then into the shadows beyond. He strained to hear any movement, to see the glow of predator eyes.

  Nothing.

  The horses weren't standing alert. They would smell wolves long before he heard or saw them.

  He eased out a breath, then pushed to his feet. Better put more wood on the fire to build up the blaze. He wouldn't be sleeping anymore this night.

  Colette opened her eyes to a new day. Her belly was hungry enough to eat her insides, and she finally had strength to sit up and reach for the food herself. It was about time.

  She should have made herself get up and ride back to camp today, even if she didn't feel up to it. Surely Jean-Jacques would help her with her mare.

  This burst of energy was exactly what she needed to manage on her own. Well…mostly.

  Jean-Jacques was bent down on the other side of his mount, working on the hobble that held the mare secure. The horses had eaten all the grass around their camp, so he must be moving them farther away. At least none of them had become wolf fodder last night.

  He straightened and glanced her way, and when he saw her sitting up, a wide grin spread across his mouth. That Jean-Jacques grin—unrestrained and boyish enough to recapture her heart every time.

  She returned his smile. Yes, she was feeling that good.

  He patted his mare on the shoulder, then strode toward Colette with long intentional steps. "You look like you're feeling much better."

  She reached into her pouch and pulled out another bite of meat. "I am."

  He stooped by the fire and picked up the wooden bowl he'd carved the day before, holding it carefully as he rose and moved to her side. "I've had this stew simmering. Hopefully it will taste better than what I made in the canteen."

  "Anything will be good, as hungry as I am." She reached for the bowl, and he helped her settle it onto her lap.

  "It's hot."

  She nodded even as she raised the bowl to her mouth for a sip.

  He knelt beside her, watching. "I'll go hunting in a bit. We're getting low on meat, so better to stock up now."

  She swallowed the first sip of scalding broth, then shook her head. "We can ride back today. I'm better now." Though that steaming stew had seared her throat.

  He was studying her, concern on his face. Refusal on his tongue most likely. Better she speak first.

  She turned a smile on him. "I feel like myself again this morning. I’m sure I’ll feel even better once I eat. I'm sure the others wonder where we've gone." Or maybe he’d told them something to keep them from worrying. She raised her brows at him. “When do they expect you back?"

  He shook his head. “I didn't
say much when I left. Just told them I was headed out to find you." He studied her again. The refusal had lessened in his eyes.

  She sipped another bit of broth. It was cooler now. "Are they checking our traps, do you think?"

  His brows lowered. "I hope so."

  She took a longer swallow this time, the warm liquid gradually filling her insides. "I only need a half hour, then I'll be ready to ride."

  He hesitated. His face said he would relent soon though.

  But then he dipped his chin and raised his brows in a stern expression. "I think you should get up and move around a little before we decide. I won't let you wear yourself out. Getting back isn’t worth endangering your health."

  This protective side of him was new. As a boy, he'd always kept her safe, but he hadn't been so stern about it. Back then, if she pushed, she could wear down his concerns.

  But this Jean-Jacques was different. And though she shouldn’t like the fact that she couldn’t sway him so easily, the care behind his protectiveness wrapped around her like a warm blanket on a cool morning. It didn't hurt that he looked so attractive in the doing.

  He went back to finish his work with the horses while she ate the rest of her stew and more of the meat from her pack. With her belly no longer aching from hunger, other needs pressed in.

  After pushing the blanket aside, she moved to her hands and knees in preparation to stand. But she had to pause there as her vision went black. This was happening more often of late. From weakness? Lack of enough food? She was tired of trying to guess at all the causes for her body’s changes.

  She would never again take for granted having another woman near. Especially one wiser and more experienced in matters like these. She had to get settled in Young Bear’s camp before she grew too heavy with child.

  She sent a glance toward Jean-Jacques. Now that he knew the truth, how would she make him leave? Did she really need to? He was a man, grown and able to live his own life. If he still had a wife somewhere, he would need to go back to her soon.