“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure as a gun.”
Greta’s world crumbled in one swift fell. And she knew exactly what had happened. Astrid had run away.
Chapter 22
Greta’s face lost all color, and she swayed as though her legs might give out. Wyatt grabbed her arm to keep her from toppling.
“What’s going on?” He tried to steady her even as his own exhaustion took a slug at him.
Her eyes widened and filled with horror.
“Calm down and tell me what’s wrong.”
Her fingers shook, and her silver blue eyes brimmed with tears. “Astrid’s gone.”
“Where’d she go?”
“I don’t know. She’s been gone since I awoke this morning. I thought she rode out to work with you and Judd. . . .”
“She took the horse?”
“And the pup.”
His mind spun as he tried to digest the news. “She might be fishing—”
“I’ve checked everywhere. She’s nowhere near.”
He scanned the river, the banks, and the distant bends both ways. Where would a little girl like Astrid go? And why?
Greta closed her eyes and wavered again.
He slipped his arm around her, and thankfully she leaned into him, his lack of shirt no longer of concern. “Hey now. Maybe with the loss of the cattle, she decided to go to Fairplay to hunt for gold again.”
“No. This time she’s angry at me. She pleaded with me last night to be able to stay here. She doesn’t want to go to Denver, even if the hospital there can make her better.”
“So she reckoned if she ran away, she could get out of leaving?”
“It’s possible. Especially since she knows that if we don’t go soon, we won’t be able to travel through the mountain passes.”
Did Astrid think she could hide for a few days? Out in the wilderness? By herself? Wyatt’s blood turned cold. Not only were there wild animals to think about, but the weather was unpredictable and the temperatures most nights fell below freezing.
“We need to find her.” He started toward the cabin, guiding Greta.
“Where do you think she went?” Greta picked up her pace to keep up with him.
“I’ll ride to town first and check if anyone’s seen her.”
“I’ll go. You have to sleep.”
“I ain’t gonna be able to rest until she’s found.”
“Please, Wyatt—”
“I’m going, and nothin’s gonna stop me.” He’d failed his family when they needed him most, and he wouldn’t fail Greta now.
When they reached the cabin, she made him sit down for coffee and a meal while she fed and groomed his horse. He and Judd had worked all night and all day, butchering each steer and then lugging the slabs of beef to the river in the north pasture so the freezing water would keep the meat fresh until they carted it to the surrounding mining towns to sell.
Judd was still at it and had finally ordered him to go. Even though Wyatt hadn’t said anything, Judd had probably sensed the anxiety growing within him all day. Either that or he’d noticed the frequent glances Wyatt had cast in the direction of the homestead.
He’d expected Greta to ride out and finish helping them long ago, especially with the way she’d protested when he’d made her leave earlier. As hours passed without her showing up, he’d worked himself into a frenzy and almost hadn’t stopped to wash himself up at the river before riding on to the cabin.
At the sight of her on the river path, he’d nearly wept with relief to see she hadn’t left him yet. And now all he could do was pray that once they found Astrid, Greta would give him a chance to speak his piece.
By the time he was done with the meal and changed clothing, he had a fresh burst of energy and was ready to head to Fairplay.
“I want to go with.” She held the reins as he climbed up into his saddle.
“I’ll be able to ride a whole lot faster and search more places by myself.” He settled himself and adjusted his hat. “Besides, someone’s gotta stay and let Judd know what happened.”
As she passed the reins up to him, he wrapped his hand around hers.
Tears pooled in her eyes, and she glanced away, blinking rapidly.
“And I reckon you need to be here if she comes back.”
Greta nodded and bit her lower lip.
He squeezed her fingers, wishing he could reassure her that everything would be okay. But he’d lived in the mountains long enough to know the wild land sometimes demanded a steep payment for living there. And he just hoped this wasn’t one of those times.
“Pray.” He released his hold and slapped the reins. “Pray hard.”
Greta watched the horizon until the sun dipped behind the mountain peaks and the chill of darkness crept in around her. Even then she sat on a bench outside the cabin, wrapped in her shawl, and refused to go inside. The lantern on a stump next to her allowed her to work on the mending, but she couldn’t concentrate, her heart aching too much at the thought of Astrid being somewhere cold and alone and in danger.
She tried not to think about the cougar poised above Astrid, ready to pounce, and how Astrid had been unaware of the danger so close. But the image kept surfacing nonetheless. Astrid was foolishly fearless at times and was just a child who couldn’t possibly survive on her own.
“Oh, God,” Greta whispered, lowering an old pair of Wyatt’s trousers to her lap, the ripped knee only halfway patched. Her prayer stuck in her throat as it had since Wyatt had ridden away urging her to pray.
God was surely weary of all her problems. Why would He want to hear from her again, with one more trouble?
At the opening of the barn door and the sight of lantern light, she shook off her melancholy and stood. Judd was awake and would need supper. When he’d ridden in from the butchering during the late afternoon, he’d been almost too weary to dismount from his horse. After she explained what had happened with Astrid and where Wyatt had gone, he nodded gravely.
Though he’d wanted to ride out and search, she encouraged him to rest first. He barely made it to the barn before he collapsed into a mound of hay and fell asleep.
Now as he limped toward her, his steps were hurried, his horse saddled and in tow.
She wasn’t about to let him go anywhere without having something to eat. Before he could say good-bye, she picked up the lantern, entered the cabin, and headed straight to the stove, where she’d kept a pan of fish and potatoes on the back burner.
A moment later, the door opened and his uneven steps thumped against the floor. “I’m heading out.”
“No.” She hurriedly scooped a spoonful of potatoes onto a plate. “Sit and have a meal first.”
He hesitated.
She crossed to the table and put the plate down, then returned to the stove and poured him a mug of coffee. When his footsteps resumed and the bench scraped, she breathed out her relief.
“I’ve already made enough extra work for Wyatt.” She brought him the coffee. “I don’t want to cause trouble for you too, not after last night.”
He paused, his spoon halfway to his mouth. His white hair stuck on end and his clean shirt was buttoned haphazardly. And although his forehead was creased with extra worry lines, his eyes regarded her as kindly as always. “Ain’t no trouble.”