Chapter 22 – Dark Quest

"Prayer is an act of love; words are not needed. Even if sickness

distracts from thoughts, all that is needed is the will to love."

~ Saint Teresa of Avila


The forest had taken on a creepy atmosphere, as if nature understood that evil had invaded her sanctuary. Luke guided Joe up another steep mountain trail and yearned for home. Ever since the attack, he had functioned on autopilot, worn down by the constant worry for Daisy and the negative emotions battening his heart.

They'd been riding for hours. Gus led the group through unfamiliar territory, but there'd been no tracks to follow. No sign of a rogue bear. No indication of the men who'd taken Daisy. Nothing.

Joe topped the heavily forested ridge, moving effortlessly up the mountainside to level ground. It was easy to see why Drake favored the stallion. He was magnificent, powerful, and sure-footed.

Gus turned Pete to face the others. "Everybody dismount and gather around. We need to have a quick meeting."

Luke jumped out of the saddle and looked up at the rock wall stretching to the sky. Its peak was hidden behind heavy grey clouds and the vertical expanse of granite blocked their path. The only way off this ledge was back the way they came. The riders formed a semi-circle around Gus and waited.

"This is gonna be tricky, so listen up." Gus pulled two coils of rope from his saddlebag and handed one to Luke. "We're gonna put the horses in a line and walk them single file. Luke's rope is our lifeline, not th' horses. He's gonna make sure everybody is connected."

"You gotta be kiddin'." Luke said on a snort. "No disrespect, Gus, but I don't see a trail up…that." He flung an arm wildly at the mountain.

"Son," Gus huffed impatiently, the underlying worry for Emily evident on his weathered face. "Did I not say this would be tricky? Normally I'd have th' patience for twenty questions, but my wife is out here in th' hands of..." He paused, then pointed to a shadowed spot where the ledge met the wall. "We're going through this mountain, not over it."

Luke stared dubiously, as did the others. The opening, a crack in the rock, was barely visible between a large boulder and an old pine. He turned to look at Joe and wondered how the big horse would react to entering such a small space.

"What are ya' gawkin' for? It's just a tunnel." Perhaps Gus thought stating the obvious would squelch any protests. No one else spoke up, but the faces said it all.

"Oh, toughen up!" Gus patted his mount proudly on the shoulder. "I've been through it with Pete lots of times and he's never fussed about it. Like it or not, the only way we're gettin' into Devil's Gulch is through that mountain. When we come out th' other side we'll be standing above Devil's Crossing, one mile from th' line shack."

Enos's shoulders snapped back as he tensed. For the first time since leaving the cabin, Jenny looked to her man with tenderness. She'd barely spoken with him along the trail, but something had suddenly dissolved her anger and brought tears to her eyes.

Gus didn't seem to notice. He rattled off more instructions as he unpacked an old Coleman lantern. "Everybody grab a light source and get busy. Jaxon, put one mule behind Ranger. I'll take th' other behind Pete. I want Jenny right behind me. Travis, you walk between Jaxon and Enos where they can keep an eye on ya'.

"There are arrows and direction markers scored into the walls every few yards. Ya' need to know what they are. Don't leave the line and don't go down a tunnel with an X. That leads to St. Peter and th' Pearly Gates. Keep your horse on your right, the wall within touching distance on your left, and watch your step. I reckon it goes without sayin' that this is dangerous."

Enos shifted his weight to the side and asked, "Ding dang, Gus. How'd ya' find this place?"

"That's a story for th' campfire later tonight. Anybody not leading a mule needs to tie off a spare horse." Gus pointed a finger at Jenny. "Abby's excluded. I don't want that high strung filly tied to nothin' or nobody."

"Yes sir," she replied.

Gus swept a look across the group. "Ya'll use breakaways on the tandem lines. We gotta cross a narrow ledge and if one animal goes over, I don't want it taking th' rest of 'em. It's a one-way ticket down, so don't get yourselves tangled in the lines. I ain't losin' anybody else today."

Jaxon raised a hand. He looked pale. "How long is this tunnel?"

"Takes about fifteen minutes to reach th' other side. What's wrong? Ya' look ya' saw a ghost."

"I don't do well in cramped dark places." Jaxon swallowed, with visible effort.

"We'll have plenty of light, Numpty." Jenny reached out and squeezed his hand. "I'll be right in front of you. Okay?"

"Thanks, sis." Jaxon curled a hand behind her neck, pulling her forward to kiss her forehead. "I'll be alright. I'd rather tell Da I sank his sailboat though."

"That bad?"

"Bad enough," he said. "Let's just get this over with."

Luke began uncoiling the rope and overheard Gus stop Jenny. "I'm concerned about Abby. I know ya' got skills, darlin', but that don't mean much to a thousand pounds of terrified horse. If she gets upset she's gonna toss ya' around like a rag doll."

"No," Enos protested. "I'm taking Abby. Jenny can walk with Tag."

Luke cringed, expecting Jenny to have a fit of pride and rip apart the idea. Instead, she calmly slipped her Mossberg in the saddle scabbard and passed Abby's reins to Enos. "I brought some Ace," she told him. "I'll give her a little to take the edge off."

"Thanks, hon. Watch yourself now, ya' hear?" Enos's fingers lingered around Jenny's a little longer than necessary as an unspoken apology passed between the couple. Yearning and tenderness rippled in the air around them, its aura visible to all who might be watching.

"I promise to be careful. You do the same." Jenny gave a sad smile before she turned to her brother. "C'mon, Jaxon. Let's get an extra lantern or two out of the supplies."

Travis raised his arms and stretched. "That was some ride. It'll be good to walk for a bit and let the horses rest."

The horses. Luke hid his smirk. Travis wasn't fooling anybody. He was miserable, having exaggerated his horsemanship skills. His stiff walk confirmed he hadn't sat a horse in a very, very long time.

Then Travis stepped in Jaxon's path. "I'd like to talk to you. Can I help with the lanterns?"

Jaxon's tone went razor sharp and he moved Jenny behind him protectively. "Are you going to give us the name of your informant?"

"I told you I can't risk that." Travis crossed his arms. "Not if you still plan to turn yourself in at the exchange."

"Then we have nothing to discuss. I know you're hiding something, lots of somethings. You just stay away from my sister and me. That way I'm not tempted to throw you off the next cliff." Jaxon gave the agent a deliberate shove, moving him out of his path and walking away with Jenny.

Unaware his voice carried, Travis muttered, "Ungrateful brats."

Lucky for the obnoxious agent, Luke and Enos were the only ones to hear it. Neither of them cared what Travis thought, or if he was comfortable. It was easier to ignore him and focus on finding their loved ones.

Luke went about his task quickly and methodically, speaking only when necessary. He'd left the cabin without calling Uncle Jesse. Oh, he'd tried, but couldn't dial the numbers. It would've been nice to hear his Uncle's voice and maybe get some encouragement from Bo, but he didn't have the heart to upset them. There was precious little they could do for Daisy from across the country.

He eased his conscious by convincing himself they had other problems to deal with, like the farm, the crop, and the dwindling cash in the tin canister above the stove. Uncle Jesse wasn't young anymore either. Knowing Daisy had been kidnapped again was sure to raise his blood pressure. No sense risking that.

In no time at all, they had the horses in tandem and everyone connected to the lifeline. Gus struck a match, lit his lantern and walked Pete into the tunnel. The mule plodded along behind complacently.

The twins entered next, followed by Travis and Enos. Abby balked a little at first then walked in to avoid being left behind. Luke brought up the rear. Joe gave no signs of distress and casually dropped his head to clear the ceiling.

Within moments, the world had swallowed them whole.

The entrance soon dwindled to a small dot of daylight at their backs. Eventually natural light disappeared altogether. The tunnel opened a little as they moved deeper into the mountain. Luke ran a hand over the rough walls. They were covered with ancient Indian carvings and ritual symbols. Looks like a good place for a vision quest. The images were similar to those Luke had seen in the caves near Hazzard. His heart ached with homesickness.

The air was musty and smelled of minerals and damp earth. Sound echoed, water trickled down the walls in places, creating a slick surface at their feet for shod horses. Movement was slow and cautious.

The environment brought back more memories of home and Luke's mind wandered. As a teen, he was one of many local boys who snuck into the old Three Sevens Mine to seek glory on a dare. Betty Jo had been rather enamored with him at fifteen. When he returned with an old miners lamp as proof of his courage, she was also very willing. He smiled at the memory.

The horses nickered to each other as they crept along. By the time they reached the dangerous ledge, the air was heavy with tension. Abby began shuffling her hooves and prancing uneasily. Enos crooned softly to her, but then one of the mules brayed in displeasure. The sound was deafening in the hollow space. Abby whinnied, a horse's startled scream of fear.

The line stopped. Luke watched helplessly as the animal threw her head down and kicked out, slipping on the slick floor and sending several fist-sized rocks over the ledge. Man and animal alike froze while Abby regained her footing.

Enos guided her further away from the ledge. Her eyes were wide with terror. While he stroked her neck, Abby stood in a quivering mass.

Whack…crack…whack-whack

Luke shuddered when he realized what he was hearing. The rocks were still tumbling into the bowels of the earth, striking unseen barriers along the way. Seconds ticked by and the sounds faded with each violent impact. They stones met their demise with a quiet splash of water, possibly a hundred or more feet below.

"Possum on a gumbush."

"You said it, buddy roe." Luke replied.

Gus called out, "You okay back there?"

"Yes sir." Enos released a heavy sigh. "Abby slipped, but I think she's fine now. I feel about ten years older."

"Lordy, son." Gus grumbled. "I only brought so many unmentionables."

"Can we please get out of here?" Jaxon said, his voice tense.

"We'll be out in a jiffy." Gus turned down another tunnel and the line began to move.

Luke thought of Daisy as he walked; how she was always smiling from across the kitchen table, or walking around it to dish another helping of food on his plate. Had she eaten today? Did she have someplace warm to sleep? What if she was hurt? Suddenly he wanted to hit something, to use his fists and beat out the anger and fear.

"Hang on, Daisy Mae," he whispered to himself. "We're coming."

A few minutes later, Luke guided Joe into fresh air and took a long look around. The exit was tucked in a tree-covered hill, hidden by roots and brush. Grey tendrils of dusk had crept into the forest, hastened by gloomy fog and tiny droplets of swirling mist. Downhill, Bison Creek rushed through Devil's Crossing like an angry beast, then spread out to cut a churning swath through the Gulch.

They made it. Now the real search could begin.

Gus extinguished his lantern and said, "Let's give the horses a few minutes to settle and drink. Travis, grab the mules and come with me. Y'all keep a weapon handy and an eye on the ground for tracks, especially the bear kind."

"Yes sir." Luke stowed his lantern and adjusted Drake's bow across his back. He had access to one of the MacFarland's rifles on the mule, but with Sheriff Running Wolf's deputy at the line shack, he didn't dare carry it himself.

When he turned around, he saw Enos meander toward the Crossing. The deputy reached a large tree along the edge and paused, his hands curled into fists at his sides. Tag stood nearby, grazing quietly.

"Drake and Jenny told me about this place." Jaxon raised a chin toward the ravine. "The Crossing is usually dry, but it's susceptible to flash floods; especially in the spring. It's not the safest place to ride and fills up with debris. Most of it gets washed away at times like this, but there's one log that's too big. It's wedged between the walls at a strange angle. It creates an illusion that the low limb is further away, instead of hanging right above it."

Luke's eyebrows rose as realization dawned. "This is where Enos had his riding accident."

"Yes. His leg was trapped underwater. Jenny and Drake pulled him out just in time." Jaxon pointed over Enos's head. "That must be the rope Jenny climbed down to reach him."

A long line hung from a knarled branch above the ravine and stretched to the water below. Enos was watching the loose end dance in the current. Jenny approached him and twined her fingers with his. Together they stood in quiet reverence, remembering that day and how close they'd come to losing each other.

"According to those carvings in the cave, the Indians believe spirits linger here. I sure hope they're on our side." Jaxon pulled into the saddle and gathered the reins. "I'm going to water Ranger and ride ahead to search for tracks. All those horses must've left some sign when they came out of the river. Want to come along? This light gives credence to your Drake persona."

"I'm in." Luke tied the spare horse to a tree, hauled himself on Joe, and took one last look at the couple. Enos was holding Jenny's tiny body close now, his chin resting atop her head. The couple's future was at stake, too.

It strengthened Luke's resolve to give Daisy her own happy ending.

He adjusted Drake's hat over his brow, mimicked Drake's scowl, and turned to Jaxon. "Time to go fishing. Let's see what we can catch."


Daisy decided to call the woman who'd come to their rescue Flo, short for Florence Nightingale. During their first visit, Flo found the key to the cell hidden in Matt's footlocker. Together they tended to Drake's head wound. The gash was ugly, but the bleeding had slowed. They cleaned him up as best they could, being careful not to do too much and tip off Matt. The wet clothes had to stay. Drake's shirt was stained and ruined, but even it would eventually dry.

Flo went above and beyond to feed them and keep them warm, if only for a few precious minutes. Before leaving Daisy for the night, she delivered more supplies and plenty of snacks, providing everything she'd need to manage Drake on her own. Flo stayed as long as she dared, then went back to Emily. It was awful to be alone again.

To stave off her terror, Daisy threw herself into her nursing duties. That first night was the worst. Drake repeatedly woke to half-consciousness and retched over the toilet until she thought he might break in half. She did her best to soothe him, gently rubbing his back and washing his face. She wasn't sure if he knew she was present, but she spoke to him just the same.

When the spasms ceased, he'd collapse in a heap on the floor, unconscious. Drake would remain motionless for a few minutes, or perhaps a few seconds, only to jolt to half-awareness and repeat the same painful process. This happened over and over and over. Daisy wanted to sob over his suffering, but she didn't have the energy for such indulgence. Eventually, the retching stopped and he lie boneless in her lap, his pallor grey and clammy. She ignored her own aches and pains, positioned him on his side, and snuggled against him to try and stay warm.

She hated to turn off the flashlight, but knew she had to conserve the batteries. The darkness pressed in around her, making her imagination run wild with frightening thoughts. Then the fever began.

Once again grateful for Flo's help, Daisy dissolved Tylenol tablets in a cup of water and poured the concoction down his throat. Then she opened his shirt and bathed his fevered skin with cool washrags. She sang to him softly as she worked, but the fever spiked higher.

Drake babbled deliriously, jumping between Gaelic, Scots and English. Daisy kept track of the names, some she knew, others she didn't. She'd heard Tia before, twice before, actually. Aiden, Captain McRae, and Edward were new to her.

"We'll talk about Tia real soon, sugar. You should've told me."

She couldn't help but smile when her name came up. Drake called her a "saucy wench" and chuckled, a deep, sexy rumble that vibrated under her touch. Then he went into detail about her body and the things they would do in his bed. A shiver of white-hot excitement blazed across her skin and she blushed to her toes. The images his words brought to mind were tantalizing.

Surely he wasn't dying. No man with such a voracious appetite would give into fever. Then he again grew quiet and still. Her loneliness returned in full force. If only she could have a coherent conversation with him.

Daisy wiped a tear with the back of her hand. "Oh, sugar. There's so much I need to say. I need your help."

Daisy knew her survival depended on using the knife. Matt wasn't going to back down and tomorrow he'd come after her. She'd never killed anyone before. Maybe Drake would have a better idea. If not, talking to him about it would at least give her courage. God she was scared. Prayer was the only thing that helped.

Much to her surprise, Matt didn't come that next day, but Flo returned in the evening. Drake was still unconscious and his fever persisted.

"Let him sleep, Daisy." Flo said. "You're exhausted and need to eat."

Her new friend brought a thermos of broth for Drake and a bowl of hearty beef stew for Daisy, topped with steaming cornbread. She also brought clean washcloths, fresh bandages, more batteries for the flashlight and sandwiches for later. Daisy ate like a starved woman and asked to see Emily.

"It's too dangerous, luv." Flo took her hand and smiled that same maternal smile. "She sends her love and said not to worry about her. You just take care of Drake and protect yourself from Matt. We'll all be out of here very soon."

"I was hoping my cousin would've found us by now." Daisy swallowed the last bite of stew and asked, "How much longer before we can leave?"

"Tomorrow night," she said. "I just need Matt to walk out the front door one more time. We'll go once he's gone, if Drake is on his feet."

"He'll be ready." Daisy couldn't allow herself to think otherwise.

They chatted a little more while Daisy finished her meal. Several times, she caught the woman watching Drake, her brow furrowed with concern. Flo, or whoever she was, must have a few demons in her past.

Daisy tried to redirect the conversation. "He's gonna be mighty grateful for what you've done to help. He'll protect you. When he's strong again, he'll protect us all."

Flo smiled uneasily. "Tell me about him. What kind of man is he? Is he patient and kind?"

"Patient? No. My Uncle's mule has more patience during a colic. He has moments of kindness."

"He has a temper then."

"Yes." Daisy smiled behind her bowl, recalling his bull-faced expression by the pond in Seward. "When I push the wrong buttons."

Flo's face fell and her eyes took on a haunted expression, one Daisy had seen countless times…in battered and abused women. She choked on her stew, regretting her words. "Oh, I didn't mean...it's not like that. He's not a mean person. Not at all."

"I didn't mean to pry," she looked away, embarrassed. "That was rude of me. Your relationship is your business. I should go."

"Flo, please wait." Daisy took her arm before she could get up. "I ain't gonna sugar coat th' facts. Drake is a cranky, stubborn, pig headed, jerk. But he's also a good man, protective and loyal to the people he cares for. Just because he was trained to kill doesn't mean he likes hurting people. He's dangerous when he has to be and tender when he wants to be. He saved my life twice last year. He's never raised a hand to me and never would."

"Never?" Flo blinked a few times.

"Never. He'd never even think about it." Daisy patted Flo's arm. It was trembling. "Tell me who hurt you, Flo."

"Am I that transparent?"

"No, sugar. I volunteer at a battered women's shelter during the holidays. Matt doesn't mean anything to you. The bruises he caused didn't leave th' scars I'm seein'. Was it your husband?"

"My ex-husband, although he wasn't at the time. It only happened once, but it…" Flo pressed a hand to her forehead. "I don't want to talk about him. What else can you tell me about Drake's life?"

"Not as much as I'd like." Daisy gave a wry smile. "I know more about his character than I do about his past. Drake has secrets. He had a hard youth and lost people he loved. He tries to carry his pain alone and hides it behind a lot of bluster to keep people away, but his heart is golden. You should see how gentle he is with his sister. She's protective and territorial, but I'm starting to understand why. I still think she mothers him too much though. It makes me jealous, but don't tell him I said that."

"We all have secrets I suppose." Flo smiled then, her eyes sliding back to Drake. "It's awful that he suffered so. He's overcome a lot."

"I reckon you have, too." Daisy said gently. "You don't have to hid your secrets from me. Please tell me your name. I won't tell Drake if ya' don't want me to."

"I'll tell you tomorrow night when we leave. It's better that way. I really need to go now. It's getting late." Flo cupped Daisy's face like a mother would comfort a child. The selfless act came naturally, almost instinctive. "You're a good girl, Daisy. He's lucky to have you. Now, time for you to rest."

"I'll try. Thank you."

"You're welcome, luv." She gathered her things and left.

Daisy was once again engulfed in oppressive darkness and silence. She clicked on the flashlight and hid the supplies in the toilet tank, then she returned to Drake's side. She tried to sleep, but it was no use. Her mind wouldn't shut off. Despite the cold floor, Drake's body was hot under her palm, like a furnace burned inside him. She grabbed a few clean rags, used one to plug the sink, and filled the basin with cool water. As the night wore on, Daisy went to war against the fever.

She sponged down his chest, his arms, his face, then started all over again. Her hands pruned and her arms ached with fatigue, but she kept fighting the heat that threatened to steal him away. When her fingers grew numb from the cold, she'd ease a little more broth down his throat, being careful not to give him too much at once. Then she'd put the broth away, retrieve a fresh washrag, and begin the ritual again.

By the time the fever broke, she had touched every muscled curve of his body, kissed his fingers a thousand times, and memorized every inch of his face. How long had it been? Had morning dawned? She had no way of knowing. Oh, how she missed the sound of Uncle Jesse's footsteps in the hall and the rooster's announcement of sunrise.

Drake's breathing came easier and his color improved. He was still a little warm, but he was better. He'd survive. It had been a frightening ordeal and there were more challenges to come. After fighting so hard to keep him this side of heaven, she wasn't going to let him go ever again. From now on, Drake MacFarland was hers, along with all his secrets, his personal demons, and pain.

The hatch creaked. Daisy gathered her things and scrambled to the sink. She yanked the rag from the drain and tossed everything into the toilet tank. Then she replaced the lid and felt her way to Drake's side to feign sleep. Her body shook with fear.

The knife. It was safely hidden in her boot. If she had to, she would use it. She'd kill Matt.

Daisy wrapped her arm around Drake. "Please, sugar. Wake up. I don't want to do this alone." She buried her face against his shoulder and squeezed him tight.

"Och, easy darlin' girl." Drake said, his voice raspy. "I know ya cannae keep your hands off me, but m' bones are no' ready for such randy affection. Why is it so bloody dark?"