CHARITY'S GOLD RUSH (A Strike It Rich in Montana novel) (30 page)

             
The tallest, the one who initially tied up Charity, pulled a knife from a sheath at his waist
,
and strolled toward Gabe. He grinned and with the tip of his knife, popped Gabe’s buttons one-by-one. So the time had come. Gabe prayed he would be able to stay brave until the end.

             
He hissed as the other man slowly drew the blade across his chest, barely cutting the skin. The next slash came a little deeper
, a
s if he were a child at play. Gabe kept his gaze locked on the Indian’s dark one, and forced his face to remain impassive.

             
Lightening slashed the sky, thunder rolled, the clouds unleashed their burden of rain, and the Indian head butted Gabe.

23

             
When she’d estimated an hour had gone by without hearing footsteps crunching outside her
bug-ridden
den of horror, Charity crawled free. She had spent the time
cutt
ing the rope that bound her wrists against a rock she’d found and took joy in tossing the frayed strands away.

             
Thankful for the whine of the wind and rumble of thunder to hide the sound of her footsteps, she made her way back to the camp and ducked behind a stand of thick bushes. She peered over the top in top to see Gabriel hit in the head and left slumped against the tree.

             
Was he dead? Was she too late? Tears welled and poured down her face, mixing with the rain. She slumped to the ground, unmindful of the cold. She had failed
, again
.
Life dealt her one cruel blow after another. Still, she was needed, for a time. The children were waiting. Oh, how would she tell them their father was dead?

             
Swiping her hand across her eyes, she pushed to he
r feet. The least she could do wa
s save his horse. Gabriel loved that animal.
She sagged as sobs shook her body. She never had the opportunity to tell him her feelings. They rarely carried on a conversation that lasted longer than ten minutes, but Charity knew if they had the time, she would have found a kindred spirit in Gabriel. Oh, but she wanted to shoot every last one of those Indian braves
, then curl up next to Gabriel and let fate win
!

             
But she wouldn’t. The children needed her.
T
hey must be worried sick by now.

             
She
crouched and made her way
to where the horses were tied, keeping a close eye on the Indians who covered the ground like snoring piles of deerskin. Rogue nickered when he spotted her, and she clamped a hand over his muzzle. Sam’s pony, being the docile animal he was, stared with big eyes while Charity loosened his reins.

             
Lightning slashed the sky, illuminating the area. Gabriel groaned. Gabriel groaned! Charity scuttled to his side.

             
“You’re alive.” She smoothed his hair from his face and winced at the gash in his head. “I’ve got to get you out of here.”

             
“I told you to leave me.”

             
“Well, I was going to, but I know how much you love Rogue, and since I needed a way to get home—” She worked at the knots around his wrist.
“How do you feel?”

             
“Like I was beaten.”

             
Finally, she released him from his bindings. “Can you mount?”

             
“Yes.” He struggled to his feet, keeping one arm tight against his ribcage.

             
Charity helped him the best she could, then climbed on Sam’s pony. Why couldn’t her son actually give his horse a name? If they made it home, she’d suggest Paint.

             
Gabriel headed into the trees,
the reins to Charity’s pony clutched in one hand
. They kept to a walk until a cry rang out behind them.

             
“Ya!” Gabriel whipped the reins. Rogue leaped ahead. Charity grabbed the saddle horn
on the horse she rode
and held on for dear life.

###

             
Gabe hadn’t seen any guns in the hands of the Indians, but
he
wasn’t taking any chances. He led Charity deeper into the thick underbrush and prayed the braves were too drunk to be much of a threat.

             
His side burned
from the Indian’s malicious slicing,
and his head throbbed. He also didn’t know whether he should shake Charity or kiss her. For once, he was mighty glad she chose not to follow directions, even though he thought his heart would stop for sure when he opened his eyes and saw her fumbling around the horses.
She’d never seemed more beautiful
, d
renched hair, torn dress, and all.

             
Ducking
beneath a low hanging
-
branch
, he urged Rogue deeper
into the forest
. The rain would help hold back their followers. If Gabe made the search difficult enough, they might give up. He doubted Amos put too big a price on his head
to warrant a search in a winter rain storm
.

             
He shivered
, and
wished they
had
grab
bed
a couple of the furs loaded on one of the Indian ponies.
He swiped his forearm across his eyes, clearing his vision of blood and water.

Charity cried out. Gabe turned in the saddle. She rubbed her cheek. “Just a branch. Gave me a nasty scratch.”

They needed to remain quiet.
Despite the increasing noise of the storm, if the Indians were close, they would hear. Gabe held a finger to his lips. His other hand brushed the back of the horse as he turned.

His rifle still hung in its scabbard.
Why hadn’t the braves removed it? Even with his hands tied, he might have been a small threat. Obviously, they didn’t expect him to escape.
Thank you, God
.
Their captors were definitely not the brightest.
He pulled
the gun
free and motioned for Charity to move closer.

A thrashing in the woods to their right made him freeze. He aimed the rifle and held his breath. Lightning crashed, exposing the area ahead of them. Four figures rode past, ill-shaped under
woven Indian blankets
. It appeared they had given up their search, instead intent on taking the poor Indian girl wherever it was they planned to take her.

             
Gabe held up a hand to signal Charity to wait, then relaxed in the saddle. They might be hungry, frozen, and beaten, but they were alive, and it looked as if they would stay that way a while longer.

             
Charity shivered hard enough for Gabe to see
the movement
through the rain. He slid his gun back in its scabbard and dragged her over to sit in front of him. His breath hitched at the pain in his side, but sharing body warmth would benefit them both
—not
to
mention how wonderful she felt in his arms.

             
“I didn’t thank you for saving me.” He laid his cheek against her hair and breathed deep.

             
She snuggled closer. “You’re welcome. We’re a team, Mr. Williams.”

             
He chuckled. “Yes, we are, and a mighty fine one at that.”
With a flick of the reins, he set Rogue toward home, letting Sam’s pony follow.

             
Gabe decided he wanted to court Charity. Never
mind that they were already married. He wanted to stay hitched past the springtime. He wanted babies of his own with her. Surely a strong man such as himself could win the heart of an Irish girl. She had accepted his proposal readily enough. Even a blind man could see she cared for Meg and Sam
, and had settled into life on the Montana prairie
.

             
Now,
he needed
to make sure she fell in love with him.

24

             
By the time they tro
tted
onto the homestead, Gabe’s head wobbled as much as Charity’s. Several times he caught himself before his chin connected with the top of her skull. Even the horses seemed to have barely enough energy
make their way to
the barn.

             
Charity
barely
stirred back to life when Lady and Prince barked a welcome. Light flared behind the window, and the front door swung open. Sam and Meg, followed by the Stoltzes rushed out.

             
“Oh, my heavens, she’
s
dead.” Mabel clapped a hand to her mouth. “And you look like you should be.”

             
“We’re both alive.” Gabe swung his leg over and slid to the ground, keeping Charity tucked close. “We’ve had a bit of an ordeal, but we’re home now.”

             
“Come on in the house and let me take care of you.” Mabel bustled back inside, followed closely by the others. “We’ll get you cleaned up straight away and into bed. That gash on your head might need stitches.”

             
Gabe gently laid Charity on his bed and slumped next to her.
She might raise a fuss when she woke to find him next to her, but Gabe was too exhausted to worry about that now. He wanted her close in case she felt poorly in the morning. The Stoltzes most likely figured out
he and Charity
hadn’t shared a bed up to this point
, and Gabe didn’t care. All he wanted was to stretch out and lose himself for several hours.

             
Before he could
fully relax
, Sam and Meg plastered themselves to each side of him. Meg smoothed back Charity’s hair. “She ain’t gonna die, is she, Pa?”

             
“No, sweetheart. She’s plumb tuckered out. Your ma saved my life tonight.” Gabe wrapped his arms around his children, thanking God he had the opportunity to lay eyes on them again.

             
“That’s a story I’ve got to hear.” Hiram handed him a cup of hot coffee. “I laced it with spirits.” He held up a hand to ward off Gabe’s protest. “My woman is about to poke your head with a needle. You’ll need that drink. Once she scrubs your head wound,
what little scabbing started is going to pull free and
it’s going to bleed something fierce
and hurt like the dickens
.”

             
“Guess it won’t
harm me to imbibe this once
.” Gabe took a sip and grimaced. “Takes like medicine.”

             
Hiram clapped him on the shoulder. “It is, my friend. Now, move into that kitchen chair and let my wife tend to you. When she finishes with you, she’ll take care of your wife.”

             
He wished they’d worry about Charity first, bu
t was smart enough to realize his
injuries were more serious
. Charity’s problems were stress and exhaustion.
Without Gabe feeling well, the ranch couldn’t function, and the children
w
ouldn’t be safe. He pushed to his feet and moved gingerly to the chair by the table.

             
Now that he took the time to
pay attention
to his injuries, every move pained him. He’d bet his bottom dollar he had a broken rib or two, not to mention the gash in his head
and the cut on his chest
. If he looked in the mirror over the mantel, he’d most likely scare himself.

             
He allowed Hiram to pour more “medicine” in with his coffee, took a big gulp, and laid his head against the hard chair back. These weren’t the first stitches he’d ever received so he knew they were going to hurt
, and he didn’t cotton to the youngsters watching
. “Young’uns, y’all go to the barn. I’ll call you when Mrs. Stoltz is done.”

             
“I’ll go with them. They can help me care for the horses.” Hiram ushered them outside
, rifle firmly clutched in one hand
.

             
Grateful for the man’s concern in realizing possible
danger
, Gabe closed his eyes and gave himself
over to
Mabel’s torture.

###

             
Charity watched from the bed and tried not to cringe when Mabel poked the needle and thread through Gabriel’s skin. The room reeked of liquor, and she pulled the closest blanket over her nose. It ought to be her stitching up Gabriel. He was her husband. She was the one who had saved him from the renegades.