Colorado Dawn (40 page)

The exertion of trying to stay upright and keep hold of Celeste’s mittened hand warmed Eldora up to the point where she wanted to take off her coat. Floundering in the deep snow, she tried to watch where she put her feet while at the same time keeping her eyes on David’s broad shoulders ahead of her. Occasional rocks jutted through the snow that had to be navigated with care, and several times her feet sank down into a thicket or bramble holding up the snow. The branches grabbed her ankles and held fast, forcing her to stop and untangle herself.

“I wish we were wearing dungarees, Celeste.” She panted as she freed her skirt yet again from a hidden shrub. They had been picking their way down the mountain for over an hour. When she paused to look back and up, she could no longer make out the shape of the train through the falling snow.

“How are you making out?” David called back. “Is Celeste all right?”

“She’s doing better than I am.” Eldora blew out a breath and hurried to catch up. “I seem to find every hole and pocket under the snow to fall into.”

“Sam!” David called ahead. “I need a rest.”

Eldora suspected David wasn’t overly tired yet but that he wanted a rest for the women and children. His face had drawn into severe lines. How he must be suffering, unable to see for himself how his wife was doing. And how much trust he had in Sam, and in Phin, too, to lead him safely down the mountain.

Thirty yards ahead, Sam halted and turned to look back up at them. Buckford and Karen reached him, and Karen sagged to the snow with Buckford’s help. Tick slid off Sam’s back, and Sam jabbed his walking stick into a drift. Phin picked his way down the slope toward them with David on his heels.

A thrust of what could only be maternal pride shot through Eldora. Phin had shouldered the responsibility of helping David like the man he was becoming. His scowls and slouched shoulders had vanished, replaced by confidence and a tender care that made Eldora’s eyes smart. The influence of godly men in his life, even after only a few days, was already changing him, opening his eyes to a different way of behaving. If only it could continue past the holidays. How different his life would be if she could find a family like the Mackenzies to adopt him.

Finally, she and Celeste joined the group. Chests rose and fell from the exertion of staying upright, and snow clumped and clung to every fold and wrinkle of clothing. Sweat trickled from her temple, and her knees wobbled. Though used to hard work every day of her life, she’d never exerted herself like now, tramping through thigh-deep snow on such a steep angle, all the while worried about slipping and being hurled down a mountainside.

“We’re about level with the treetops now. Soon we’ll be in among the trunks and branches.” Sam brushed snow from his shoulders and took his hat off to whack it on his thigh. “Good news and bad. There will be better handholds to help us get down, but if we do slip, there’s real danger in plowing into one of the trees. You could break a limb or bash your head. Take extra care.” He glanced skyward into the falling snow. “It’s taken longer than I thought to get this far. At this rate, we might have to camp out. I want to make it down this side and up that ridge before dark.” He pointed across to the next peak. “Martin City is on the other side.”

It sounded so easy. Their destination lay on the other side, just out of sight. Buckford reached into an inner pocket and pulled out a bundle wrapped in a napkin. “I brought these. Perhaps now would be a good time to enjoy them.” Opening the cloth, he revealed four fat oatmeal cookies, a little squashed for being in his pocket.

Tick’s eyes glowed, and he tugged down his muffler. “How beaut!”

“Tick can have my share, and Celeste.” Phin shrugged and straightened his shoulders, as if trying to appear bigger and tougher than he was.

Eldora’s heart went out to him, wanting to hug him but sensing he would be embarrassed.

Sam shook his head. “That’s a fine gesture, Phin, but I think everyone should have a bit. There’s enough for half a cookie each, and we’ll all need every bit of our strength to get where we’re going. You eat your share, and don’t feel guilty.”

Buckford broke the treats in half and passed them around. Tick devoured his in three bites, while Celeste turned her back and broke hers into bites. She tugged down her scarf, popped in a piece, and covered her mouth again to chew. Phin, his brows arrowing toward one another, waited until Sam took a bite of cookie before starting on his own.

Sam tilted his head to Eldora, and with his body shielding his movements from the children, he gave Buckford back half of his portion. Eldora broke hers in half and secreted part back to the butler and nodded when Karen followed suit with her portion and David’s.

Tick licked the last crumbs off his fingers and wilted, his shoulders hunched. Though he’d ridden on Sam’s back all the way thus far, his skin resembled the snow banks around him, and his freckles stood out like pepper flakes. His breath came in quick, shallow puffs.

“Tick, are you all right? How are you holding up?” Sam squatted and looked into the little boy’s eyes.

Tick straightened a little. “I’m fine. I can walk if you need me to. I gotta be getting heavy.”

“I barely feel you. Don’t waste any worry on me. Better spend the time wondering what you might get in your Christmas stocking in a couple of days. My father is going to love having kids in the house again. He’ll probably bury you in toys and goodies.” Sam glanced again at the sky. “We’d best push on. Thanks for the cookies, Buckford. They hit the spot.”

Buckford nodded and tucked the napkin into his pocket with a private little smile.

Eldora braced herself and took Celeste’s hand.

Sam hoisted Tick once more, tucking his leg through the rope. “If you think you’re getting too tired to hang on, we can fix up some way to tie you on so you can sleep.”

“I’m not sleepy.” Tick’s heavy eyes belied his words, but she had to admire his courage. “I can stick on.”

They set off once again in their straggling line. Following along was hard enough. She didn’t know how Sam could continue breaking the trail all by himself. He seemed to have unending stamina and strength. How much would they all need to draw on that strength before they reached Martin City?

The gloom under the trees made it feel like night would soon be upon them, though it was not quite midday yet. Though they no longer switch-backed down the slope, their time didn’t improve much due to the sharper incline and the dangerous trees. Sam led them in a straighter line, easing from tree to tree.

After nearly another hour as far as she could guess, Sam halted at the edge of a drop-off. “It looks like this is the best place to go down, but it’s going to be tricky. We’ll need the rope.” He slid Tick to the snow and removed the coil. He tied one end securely around his waist, looped the rope around a tree, and tossed the loose coils down the cliff. “I’ll lower you one at a time. Buckford, go first and find a good place for everyone to wait.”

Eldora wasn’t sorry for the chance to rest, but the thought of dangling down a cliff like bait on a fishing line made her queasy. She couldn’t see how far it was, but it seemed an age before Buckford hollered up that he’d reached the bottom.

Sam reeled in the line, and it was Tick’s turn. “Sit into the rope, and hold on with both hands. Use your feet to keep you off the rocks as much as you can.”

Tick pressed his lips so tightly together they disappeared into a thin line. Sam leaned back against the pull of the rope and played a little out. Tick inched down, out of view.

Eldora held her breath until Buckford’s call that the little boy was safely down.

One by one Sam lowered each member of the party over the cliff. Dots of sweat formed on his brow, and his legs shook from the effort of lowering his brother—nearly the same in height and weight—to the arms waiting below to receive him.

Eldora let go of the tree she clutched and inched down the slope toward him. Bracing her feet against the trunk Sam was using for the rope, she grasped the rough hemp.

Sam’s jaw tightened. “Take care.”

She anchored her boots against the base of the tree and leaned back against the rope, letting it out slowly. Even through her damp gloves the rope made her hands sting. Her shoulders tugged and ached with the strain, but finally, the rope went slack when David reached the others.

Sam used his thumb to swipe at the sweat on his brow. “Your turn next, Ellie.”

For once, she didn’t correct the use of her name. Drawing a shuddering breath, she allowed him to help her slip into the rope seat.

“Don’t look down. Keep your eyes on the rocks in front of you, and try to keep your feet braced. Sit down into the rope.” He winked and reached out to touch her cheek. “I won’t let you go, Ellie-girl.”

With a flash she realized she wished he meant it forever. That he would never let her go out of his life. Afraid her heart showed in her eyes, she closed them. His hands grabbed her arms and gave her a shake. Her eyes popped open to see him nose-to-nose with her.

“Don’t go wobbly on me now. You can do this. Are you ready?”

Grateful he took her behavior as fear rather than trying to hide the wave of love for him that cascaded over her, she nodded. Her trust in him was complete. If they survived this nightmarish trek through the mountains, it would kill her to have to leave him after Christmas.

A
fter hours of climbing up the other side of the ravine, Eldora knew Sam wasn’t trying to be a brute, that he pushed them on out of necessity, but it was hard not to lash back or just sink into the snow and refuse to go on when he urged them to move faster. Her muscles ached, the cold had seeped so far into her bones she wondered if she would ever be warm again, and her mind had long ago grown numb with the never-ending trudging through the drifts.

She thought they would never reach the shoulder of Shadow Peak that they must traverse to descend the slope into Martin City. Everyone needed to rest, but daylight was fading. At least the snow had finally stopped, though the rising wind whipped what had fallen, swirling it around them before gusting on by.

They were just short of the summit when a low growl feathered across her hearing. She stopped and cocked her head, concentrating. The growl grew to a rumble and then a crashing roar. Everyone froze and turned to look back across the valley they’d taken all day to traverse.

Eldora’s heart flipped. The enormous snow shelf on the top of the opposite peak wavered. She blinked as it appeared to quiver in the fading light of sunset. Then, with an inevitable horror, it rushed downward, gaining momentum and sweeping everything before it. Cracking, grating, roiling, the gray-white mass made matchsticks of trees and playthings of boulders. Though she could not see the spot where the train had halted on the tracks, Eldora was certain the avalanche hadn’t missed.

Karen cried out and sank to the snow, and David groped his way to her side, cradling her against his coat and rocking her. Phin let out a low whistle, and his gaze collided with Eldora’s. All those passengers, so scared but refusing to move. The avalanche would have swept the private car off the tracks like a cougar swatting a mouse.

Celeste stood by David, her hand on his shoulder. Karen glanced up, her face wet with tears, and opened her arms to draw the little girl close. David wrapped his arms around them both. Buckford struggled past them on the path and lifted Tick from Sam’s shoulders.

The cascade continued for what seemed a long time, and it wasn’t until the stillness rang in her ears that she realized Sam had come to stand at her side. Without a word he slipped his arm around her waist. She put her head on his shoulder, too tired and too numb to cry.

“Those poor people. They were so scared. Why wouldn’t they come with us?”

He hugged her and rested his chin on top of her head. “I suppose, for them, the danger of staying wasn’t as scary as the danger of going. Some people are afraid to step out along a path when they aren’t sure what waits down the road.”

“Should we try to go back? To see if anyone survived?” Even as she asked the question, she realized how impossible that would be.

“We have to press on. There’s no going back. We’re not safe ourselves yet.” Weariness and responsibility wrapped his every word. Three children, two women, one of them pregnant, a blind man, and an old man—it was God’s grace they’d gotten this far.

“How much farther do we have to go?”

Gently, he turned with his arm still around her. “Look there. Do you see the lights?” He pointed down the slope toward Martin City. “Those lights will lead us home. That’s Martin City. The worst of the journey is over. Just keep your eyes on those lights.”

“I’ve never been so tired in all my life. I can’t imagine how the others are feeling.” Though reluctant, she stepped out of his embrace and went to Tick, who sat on Buckford’s lap with his eyes closed. “Tick, it’s time for some medicine. How’re you making out?” She tugged down his scarf. His skin had a bluish pallor that struck alarm.

Sam lit the lantern while Eldora dug in the pack for a spoon and Tick’s medicine. Melting snow in the spoon over the heat from the lantern, she sprinkled in the powder from a twist of paper. “Take this, Tick. You’ll feel better soon.” She prayed she was telling the truth. The cold seemed to sap all his strength and energy. His movements were slow and clumsy, and she wound up holding his head steady.

Buckford gave the remaining cookie pieces to the children, winking to forestall Phin’s comment. He insisted that Karen take the leftover piece.

“We’ve got to get moving. As tired as we are, we’re liable to fall asleep here, and that would be deadly. The sooner we get down this slope, the sooner we can get warm and dry.” Sam kept his voice low. “I’m worried that if we wait much longer we won’t be able to go on at all.”

They formed a ragged line again. Here on the less-severe slope, the snow was deeper, drifting into piles and heaps. Sam forged ahead, making a path for them to follow. The light from his lantern made dots on the blue-white snow. The clouds parted to reveal an indigo sky sprinkled with stars, and over their shoulders a winter moon rose and bathed the mountainside in soft, white light.