Untamed Journey by Eden Carson Page B

the brim of his hat down a
bit more and quickly mounted his pack horse, leading Ruth directly
behind him this time, in case she were in danger of falling.
    As the rain quickly turned to icy sleet with
the dropping temperature, Jackson prayed to every God he’d heard
tales of that he could find the old shelter in this miserable
weather. They’d be in a bad way if they had to spend another night
in the saddle. He was sure Ruth had the will, but not the strength
to keep going much further.
    He glanced back to make sure she was all
right. At her nod, he turned the horses north, following a side
trail. They gained altitude quickly and Jackson silently wondered
if snow was on the way. It was early yet, but not unheard of.
    Just a bit more luck and we might yet make
it, he thought.
    Jackson dismounted to shout over the
drenching sleet into Ruth’s ear. “We’re searching for three large,
egg-shaped boulders that mark the turn off to our destination. Stop
me if you think you see them.”
    She nodded in understanding, but then thought
miserably that it wasn’t fair to have come this far, and to have
battled a monster like Jasper Smith, only to die from the weather.
A most commonplace death – and not the ending she had dreamed about
for this journey out west.
    Ruth’s heart leapt when Jackson shouted over
his shoulder that he’d found the trail marker. He turned his horse
off the path and up at a forty-five degree angle from the three
landmark boulders. Her horse followed automatically, and it took
all her balance to stay upright as she dodged thick branches
hanging over the trail.
    After a few minutes of battling the rough
terrain, she felt the mare stop short. All Ruth could see was the
shadowy outline of Jackson’s wool coat as he forged ahead on foot.
He quickly returned to her side to help her dismount.
    “We’re here. It might not seem like much, but
once we get a fire going you’ll be more comfortable.” He set about
unpacking the supplies they’d need as Ruth took in their
surroundings.
    Their accommodations - as Jackson had
described them with a quirky smile of pride - were not much. The
cave was just a small overhang of jagged rocks, rather than a true
cave. But Ruth was so glad to step underneath shelter and no longer
feel icy sleet freezing her cheeks and slipping into her eyes that
she was willing to call it a cozy inn if she lived to tell the
tale.
    “Can you start a fire with flint and steel?”
Jackson asked. “I need to hobble the horses for the night.”
    “Yes, I know how. What about dry wood?”
    “There should be some in the back corner.” He
pointed to Ruth’s left. “It’s trail custom to replace the wood pile
on your way out. Lucky for us, the previous occupants were decent
folk.”
    She smiled a bit in amazement at this
kindness to strangers. Her aunt had only ever criticized all
western customs as barbaric and warned Ruth to hold tight to her
upbringing.
    Ruth quickly unwrapped the flint and steel
that Jackson handed her. The oil cloth they were wrapped in had
kept everything bone dry, and Ruth had a small fire going by the
time Jackson returned from caring for their horses.
    “It’s not so large that we’ll be seen?” She
asked the question more to cover her embarrassment than to get an
answer, as Jackson quickly began removing his wet coat and
shirt.
    He rubbed his numbed hands together in
gratitude before the flickering flame. “It’s fine. In this weather,
and this far back off the trail, no one will be able to see us
unless they are ten feet away. I’m fairly certain we lost any
pursuit, but don’t wander off alone, just in case. And you can hang
your wet clothes on the left side of the fire to dry. Do you have
enough dry clothing for the night?” He sat on the ground to remove
his boots. Even his socks were soaked through. “If you’re
uncomfortable, feel free to turn your back while I’m undressing.
Otherwise I can –”
    Ruth didn’t give him a chance to finish