Another Dawn (48 page)

      
"Where'd the priest go?" Graham stepped into the doorway, glowering down at Dora. "Tell me."

      
"Don't tell him anything, Dora," Dr. Wilson called from behind Graham.

      
Ignoring the doctor, Graham stared intently into Dora's eyes. "Tell me."

      
"Denver."

      
Denver. Graham pushed past her and staggered into the street, aware of the door being slammed behind him. He didn't care about that–burning bridges was now a moot point.

      
Only justice.

      
He hadn't been outside except for the day they moved him from the school to Wilson's house. He wasn't a bit worried, though, because now that he knew Nolan had gone to Denver, he knew exactly where to find the bastard.

      
Warden Graham had made it his business over the years to learn everything he could about Luke Nolan and his family. Yes, he knew
exactly
where Nolan would run, and he would follow.
 

      
But first, he must prepare the execution chamber.

      
Luke opened his eyes to a gray shroud. Was he dead? If so, this certainly wasn't hell. Too damned cold.

      
After a few moments, his vision acclimated itself to the dull light of dawn, and he pushed to a sitting position. The temperature was easily twenty degrees colder than the previous day. They had to hurry to lower elevation before it started to snow.
 

      
How many days had it been since they left Redemption? He'd lost track after three. Still, he figured they shouldn't be too far from the pass that would take them down the Front Range and into the rolling foothills.

      
He sniffed the icy air and looked at the thick layer of clouds overhead. Without the sun's warmth and guidance, today's journey would be more difficult than he'd hoped.

      
"Sofie?" They wouldn't take time for breakfast this morning. "Sofie, we have to go now."

      
She stirred and stretched, pushing herself up onto one elbow. "Ugh."
      
      
      
      
      
      

      
"Ugh?" Luke chuckled as he retrieved their supplies from a nearby tree and started to saddle her horse. "I'm afraid winter's catching up with us, so we're going to skip breakfast and try to eat lunch where it's warmer."

      
"How about Howard Johnson's?" Grimacing, Sofie stood and ran her fingers through her wild mane of curls. "Holiday Inn?" She arched a brow when he laughed. "Super 8?"

      
As she disappeared into a clump of trees for some privacy, Luke's laughter ceased. Sofie must have remembered more. With every day that passed, she grew more vocal about the culture they'd left in the future. And her knowledge of semi-useless information would make her a natural in a game of Trivial Pursuit.

      
They were far enough from Redemption that he could tell her his plans to leave the church now, and ask her to marry him. She had to say yes. She had to.

      
But this morning, he couldn't take the time to propose. Getting her out of these mountains before snow fell took priority.

      
Tonight
. Promising himself, he finished saddling the horses and freshened their canteens in the frigid stream. The cold air stung his cheeks and wind howled down the mountain, right through his wool coat.

      
Zeke had said buffalo robes were the only way to keep warm in the mountains, but Luke had left too quickly to acquire such luxuries. He shuddered and fastened a canteen over each saddle horn just as Sofie reappeared.

      
"It's going to snow," she said, her eyes filled with worry. "I can feel it."

      
"Yeah, I know."
 
Since necessity required they sleep in their coats and gloves, they were ready to go within a few minutes.
 

      
They couldn't talk above the wind, so Luke assured himself of Sofie's safety by periodically glancing back as they followed the trail along the stream. In some places, the ground gave way so suddenly, they had to circle into the woods, then back again to the stream. Without the sun, he had no other guide.
 

      
He looked back at Sofie again when snow started to fall. The narrow opening in her muffler allowed him to see the expression in her eyes. Fear and worry.

      
Ditto.

      
The rocky terrain hindered their progress, but Luke decided to push ahead until they had to stop. Sofie obviously shared his urgency, and never uttered a word of protest as the snow grew heavier and started to stick.

      
After Rosie almost lost her footing, Luke realized they had to slow their pace even more.
Damn
. He could barely see ten feet ahead.

      
Reminded of the day he'd carried Sofie into an abandoned mine to hide from a storm, he wished they could find such shelter now. Squinting, he explored the surrounding terrain, praying for a miracle. Would God listen to a fake priest? All Luke could do was try.

      
Please, God, for Sofie...

      
He heard her shout and icy shards of fear lashed through him. Bringing Rosie to a stop, he turned to see her pointing across the stream.

      
Luke looked where she pointed, making out a shadowy shape through the blur of white. Too large to be a man, he realized after a moment that it was a small cabin.

      
Thank you.

      
He motioned with his hand that they should cross the shallow stream. Halfway across the wind took on a different pitch. No, not the wind.

      
Sofie's scream.

      
As if in slow motion, he watched her horse stumble and pitch Sofie into the icy water. Luke vaulted from the saddle and rushed to her side.

      
By the time he reached her, she was completely submerged. He pulled her soaked body from the water and lifted her into his arms, pulling the muffler away from her face enough to see her closed eyes. She was unconscious but breathing.

      
She had to be all right. "Stay with me, Sofie," he whispered against the howling wind.

      
Staggering from the water and up the opposite bank, Luke was vaguely aware of the horses standing nose to tail. He spied a dugout or something built into the side of the mountain beside the cabin. The gentle beasts didn't have sense to take cover on their own, but he'd tend them later. Sofie came first.

      
The abandoned cabin was small and square, but sound. Luke pushed the door open with his shoulder. It only opened partway, forcing him to squeeze through with his burden.

      
So cold. He had to get her warm and dry.
 

      
Snow filtered between the logs, where the chinking had crumbled away. The back of the cabin must have been built against the mountain, because it wasn't as drafty.

      
Spotting a bed, Luke realized the cabin was too clean to have been empty long. With any luck, he'd also find a few supplies, and he'd leave some gold to repay their absent host. Some warm quilts lay neatly folded on a shelf above the bed. This was a sure sign their luck was about to improve.
I hope.

      
He peeled the soggy gloves, muffler, hat and coat from Sofie and dropped them to the floor. She was so pale and still, but he knew she wasn't dead. He would have felt and known the moment she left him.

      
He pulled off her sodden shoes and socks, then removed his jeans from her slim hips. She moaned in protest as he slid the wet shirt from her shoulders. "Atta girl, Sofie," he said, blinking back the tears of relief that burned his eyes. "Talk to me."

      
Even her underthings were soaked. He hesitated for only a moment, then removed them, too. Now wasn't the time to permit his hungry gaze to feast. He clutched her to him fiercely, his love pouring from his heart and into hers.
 

      
"I love you, Sofie," he whispered fiercely. "Don't die, baby. Don't die."

      
After wrapping her in one quilt and piling two more on top of her, Luke left her on the bunk and went to the stone hearth. A lantern sat on the mantel. "Let there be light," he muttered, fishing the small tin of precious matches from deep in his coat pocket.

 
      
With the lantern's light, he found the firebox filled with enough wood to last them a few days. The dry wood caught fast, and soon bright orange flames devoured it, filling the tiny cabin with much needed warmth.

      
Rubbing his hands together, he crossed the room to check on Sofie. Pulling back a corner of the quilt, he found her beautiful green eyes staring up at him.

      
"You're awake."
 
He sat on the edge of the bunk and stroked damp curls back from her face. "How do you feel?"

      
"Head hurts."
 
Her voice trembled and he tucked the quilts around her more snugly. "Again."

      
"I'm just glad you're all right."
 
He sighed, then cleared his throat. "Nothing else hurts?"
 

      
"I don't think so, but I'm sleepy."
 
He watched her look around. "Is this heaven?"

      
Chuckling, he found and squeezed her hand through the quilt. "I think it's just this side of it."

      
"Still snowing?"

      
"Yes, which reminds me..."
 
Luke stood, but remained close to the bunk, leaning down to study her face as he spoke. "I have to check on the horses and get our supplies."

      
"Be careful."

      
He nodded. "Listen, Sofie, if anything happens to me out there–"

      
"Don't talk that way."
 
She tried to sit up, but he pressed her back against the quilt. "Don't, Luke. Promise me."

      
"I'll be careful."

      
"Okay, but you're still wet."

      
"I'm going to get a lot wetter."
 
He studied her for a few moments, mustering his courage. "When I get back, there's something important I have to tell you."

      
She stared in silence for a few minutes. "I'm not going anywhere."

      
"Good. I'll be right back."

      
Luke wrapped his muffler around his neck and across his face again, and made sure his ears were covered. He pulled on his slightly damp gloves and glanced back at Sofie before he went out into the blizzard.

      
The blast of cold hurt. There was no other word to describe it. He pulled the door shut quickly behind him, then ducked his head into the wind, trying to see the horses. Feeling his way along the side of the cabin, he finally saw them only a few feet from the dugout.
 

      
So much for horse sense. He grabbed the reins and Rosie and Sissy both gave him looks that said, "In your dreams, buster. We're staying put."

      
After much tugging and cussing, he finally managed to drag the stupid beasts out of the storm. Of course, if horses were really smart they wouldn't let humans ride them. Luke should be grateful for their stupidity. Later maybe.

      
The quiet of the dugout was awesome. It was much better insulated than the leaky cabin, but he wouldn't trade the bed and fireplace for anything.

      
He unsaddled the horses and gave them both a generous portion of feed. Then he filled the empty trough in the corner with snow, hoping it would melt enough to provide the animals with water until the storm passed.