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He observed the people around him. Men, and some women, of all shapes, sizes, and colors milled about among the busy throng along the banks of the Missouri. Vagrant Indians loitered along the streets, some Frenchmen sang loud songs, and even a few hunters and trappers in buckskins mingled with the rest of the crowd. The smell of liquor and fish mingled with the cleaner scent of honeysuckle blooming in early spring. Had it been a year already since he’d last been to St. Charles? Since he caught his first glimpse of Evelyn as a grown woman? The image of her, as he remembered her when he first saw her, blended with the image of the woman who had become more important to him than his own life.
“It has been a long journey, my friend, but soon you will be reunited with your wife,” Laurent said, guiding his horse closer to Alex. The smile on the Frenchman’s face lacked his usual exuberance. Alex nodded imperceptibly. His pulse increased despite his fatigue. Long journey was an understatement. Three months of navigating snow-packed mountain passes that others had said were impossible to traverse had taken their toll on both of them and their horses. The rigorous journey didn’t matter. He hadn’t seen Evie in nearly five months. The ache to hold her in his arms had become unbearable at times, and the need to feel her had driven him beyond human endurance.
How many blizzards and bitter cold nights had he suffered on his near-impossible trek through the mountains these past months to reach St. Louis, and finally St. Charles? The few mountain men he and Laurent had encountered had told him they’d never survive the trip. Sometimes days or even a week had gone by when they’d been forced to hole up somewhere when a mountain blizzard made travel impossible.
Visions of Evelyn kept him going. The emptiness in his heart, and the unbearable yearning to see her smiling face and to touch her drove him to attempt the impossible. Even Laurent had suggested it might be better to wait until the spring thaw. Alex refused to listen to reason. The moment Laurent’s words had sunk in that Evie wasn’t dead, he’d sprung into action. The next morning, he’d left Yancey in charge of his cabin, and mounted his horse. Laurent had insisted on going with him, and Alex was grateful to his friend for the company.
To the best of his estimate, it was October the day the earth shook and she disappeared. Since she’d come into his life at the summer rendezvous in early June, he’d barely had five months with her. No matter how much time had passed, her face remained etched as clearly into his memory as if she stood before him. During those horrible months when he thought she was lost to him forever, her soft voice and delicate feminine scent had remained imprinted on his mind.
His fingers tingled, and he gripped the reins tighter. If Henry had harmed her in any way, the bastard would pay with his life. Alex’s jaw clenched. His father’s farm was just a few miles outside of town. The closer he came, the stronger the anger and rage coursed through him, as if his old man held some kind of power over him now that he was back. He shook the unpleasant feeling aside. Anger at Henry had nothing to do with his father. Any man in love would react the same way if his wife had been kidnapped.
Nagging thoughts had consumed him during those cold and lonely weeks of trekking over frozen mountain passes. What if Evie had married Charlie? He knew without a doubt that she would never consent to marry him of her own free will, but Henry could have easily forced her. She had no proof that she was already married. Alex shifted in the saddle. The ways of the mountain men were not honored in St. Louis. She had no proof that she was already a married woman. If she was legally wed to another man, what recourse did he have? Pushing the unpleasant thought from his mind for now, he nudged his gelding forward.
After leaving the last buildings of town behind, Alex led the way along the narrow dirt road that followed a shallow stream. Recollections from his childhood rushed back to him. How often had he walked this road as a young boy, running errands for his mother or simply to escape his father’s temper? He glanced toward the creek. A vague memory of a young girl arguing with a boy seeped into his mind. Alex pulled his horse to a stop.
“Let’s rest here for a moment,” he called to Laurent, who shot him a grateful look. As eager as he was to find Evelyn, he didn’t want to show up at her doorstep looking and smelling like the man she’d first met in the mountains. Although he was sure that she would receive him without distain and animosity this time, he ignored the urgency to reach the farm so that he could clean up before seeing her again.
Dismounting his horse, he pulled a shirt from a pouch tied to his saddle, and headed for the creek. He could clearly see Evie, a sassy young girl, punching Charlie Richardson in the nose. He’d laughed silently, hiding in the bushes that day. When Charlie grabbed her and pushed her into the creek, anger had exploded inside him. He hadn’t thought twice about coming to her aid, and punching Charlie as hard as he could. The look of gratitude in her eyes that day had sent his young heart fluttering, and he’d run off like a coward. From that day, he’d avoided Henry’s sister as best as he could. A slow smile spread across his face.
