An endless hour later, Rachel stood by the front window, her breath fogging the pane. Her throat ached with tears, both those shed and those she fought to hold back. The scene outside was disturbingly familiar. Torches dotted the perimeter of the yard, flaming bright despite the snowfall, and she counted at least thirty men grouped together, James and Rand at the center.
“I’m so sorry, Rachel.”
Hearing Molly’s fragile voice beside her, Rachel pulled her sister-in- law close. “It’s not your fault,” she whispered, knowing it wasn’t. Molly had sent the boys down to the springhouse to get some meat for dinner, something she let them do all the time. Except this evening, the boys hadn’t come back. When Mitch and Kurt hadn’t returned after ten minutes, Molly had searched the barn and the surrounding woods while James scoured the hills above.
Nothing.
Rachel hugged herself, the ache inside nearly causing her knees to buckle. Please, Lord . . . not my sons.
Any tracks Mitch and Kurt might have left had been lost to the wind and snow. She looked beyond the search parties forming in front of the barn and could hardly fathom that her boys were out there in the bitter cold and pressing darkness. Somewhere. Alone. Without her.
The crowd of men outside continued to grow. But one man was noticeably absent. The man who knew these mountains better than anyone. Who could track anything, over rock and creek, through rain or snow. She kept praying she would see him ride up. But he hadn’t. And she couldn’t blame him, after how she’d treated him. She took a breath and wiped her tears. She’d asked James to send for him. And when he came, if he came, she would ask his forgiveness, as she should have a few hours ago—as she wanted to . . . yet somehow couldn’t. And she would beg him to find her sons.
Arms came around her from behind, and she wrapped her hands over Rand’s.
He leaned close. “We’re about to set out. Is there any other place you’ve thought of where they might have gone? James wanted me to ask.”
She shook her head. “No . . . but I’m coming with you.”
“I expected you to say that,” he said softly. He turned her in his arms until she faced him. “And none of us will try to stop you if you honestly feel that’s best. But . . .” He cradled her face in his hands, silencing the argument she was about to make. “We feel it would be best if you’d stay here. That way”—he spoke with gentle persuasion—“if the boys return to the house, you’ll be here. And”— earnestness filled his eyes—“if somehow they’ve gotten separated and only one of them finds their way back here, it’ll be good for you to be with him until we bring the other safely home.”
Hot tears slipped down her cheeks. She saw the wisdom in what he said, but it didn’t feel right. Just sitting here. Waiting. Not doing anything to help. “Do you know if James has heard anything back yet from—”
“Rachel?”
At the sound of the voice, she turned and breathed the name already poised on her lips, “Daniel?”
Her fragile composure gave way, and on legs that hardly held her, she crossed the room and reached to take hold of Daniel’s hands. But he drew her into his arms. “I’m so sorry, Daniel,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry for how I treated—”
“Shhh . . .” He spoke softly, holding her closer. His nearness brought a comfort she wanted to trust in so badly. “It’s gonna be okay,” he whispered. He stroked her hair, much like James might have, and a strangled sound rose in his throat.
After a moment, he drew back, eyes misty. “The doc and I are riding together. We’ll find them, Rachel. Your boys are smart. They’ve been raised in these mountains. They know to stay together. They know what to do.”
She sniffed. “Because you taught them.”
He shook his head. “Because their father and I taught them.”
She hugged him again, wanting to say more to him, but knowing those things could wait. Once Daniel found Mitch and Kurt, and he would, she told herself, she knew her sons could be in no better hands than Rand’s.
She spotted Lyda standing between Elizabeth and Molly, and felt their gentle yet strong-as-steel resolve and love.
“I already checked the area around the springhouse,” Daniel continued. “I found some broken branches.” He briefly looked away, and Rachel felt more than glimpsed something incongruent in his manner. “I can’t be sure. . . . It could be from the storm or from an animal, maybe a moose or an elk. But my gut tells me the boys headed downslope a ways, so that’s the direction four of the groups will be riding. Doc and I among them.”
If she were going by his tone alone, she never would have questioned him. But whatever it was she’d sensed . . . “Daniel, if you know something, please, just say it. Don’t keep it from me.”
He leveled his gaze. “All right,” he said quietly, and Rachel felt a shiver up her spine. He reached into his coat and pulled out something she didn’t recognize—at first.
Oh, dear God . . . Her breath left her in a rush, and Rand’s arms came around her, holding her up. In Daniel’s hand was the shredded remains of what appeared to be brown wrapping paper. The paper used to wrap meat.
Lyda came along beside her. “They’re going to find your sweet boys,” she whispered, hugging Rachel tight. “And I’m going to be with you when they do. We all are.” She indicated Molly and Elizabeth with a nod. “The same as you were there for me.”
Mounted up, the search parties began heading out into the night. Their torches bobbed like writhing stars as the men fanned out in all directions from the house, calling the boys’ names, until finally the flickering points of light disappeared beneath the canopy of snow-ladened evergreens.
Seeing Ranslett saddled up, Rand turned to do the same.
“Rand?”
He turned back to see Rachel standing on the edge of the porch, flanked by Lyda, Elizabeth, and Molly.
“Please . . . signal as soon as you can.” A sob broke through her resolve. “Either way,” she whispered.
He strode back through the snow and gathered her into his arms. She was shaking. He held her tighter, willing her fear to subside, willing her to give him her burden. He drew back. “You listen for two shots, Rachel,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “For each boy. We’ll be firing two shots.” He hugged her to him, then kissed her. When he lifted his head, she still had that fear in her eyes, so he kissed her again, deeper this time, digging his hands into her hair. He could still taste the salt of her tears as he and Ranslett rode out.