Chapter 23
SW border of Nebraska - May 1874
The first rays of dawn painted the sky in soft hues of rose and gold as Buck emerged from his small cabin. He hadn't slept a wink, his mind consumed by the promise he'd made to Violette. Wasting no time, he saddled his horse and set off westward, following the faint trail of Gabrielle's footprints etched in the soft earth.
The tracks, he noted, started strong, purposeful strides indicating a hurried escape. Then, a gradual shift – the prints became shallower, spaced closer together, hinting at fatigue. Thankfully, the lack of recent rain made tracking easier.
But as Gabrielle's footprints veered away from the familiar path and towards the treacherous river gorge, a knot of unease tightened in Buck's gut. The unease morphed into chilling dread when he reached the precipice, the telltale signs of disturbed earth and scattered rocks marking the spot where the trail abruptly ended.
His heart pounding in his chest, Buck leaned over the edge, bracing himself for a glimpse of Gabrielle's lifeless form below. He scanned the rocky terrain, his breath catching in his throat. She was nowhere to be seen.
A flicker of hope sparked within him. Following a break in the cliffs, he descended the treacherous slope towards the churning river below. For what felt like an eternity, he scoured the area, his eyes scanning the riverbank and the churning water. Then, a glint of silver amidst the rocks caught his eye. It was a small diamond earring. Could it be Gabrielle's? The chances of someone else losing such an earring in this desolate location seemed unlikely.
He pocketed the earring, a cold dread washing over him. From this vantage point, it was conceivable that Gabrielle had fallen directly into the river. The rushing water wasn't particularly deep, but it was enough to overpower her. He scanned the river's surface, desperately searching for any sign of her. Could she have been trapped underwater? Pinned beneath a rock or tree branches?
Taking a deep breath, Buck muttered a silent prayer, a plea for her safety amidst the growing despair in his heart. He stripped down to his pants and waded into the chilling water, the current tugging at his legs as he searched every crevice and submerged rock formation.
By the time the last rays of sunlight began to fade, Buck was forced to accept defeat. He dreaded the task that lay ahead – informing Violette that her sister was most likely gone. Just as despair threatened to consume him, a flutter of yellow caught his eye, carried by the evening breeze. Hope surged through him as he swam towards the object, his heart pounding in his chest. It was a shred of fabric, snagged on a low-hanging branch downstream.
It was a scrap, no bigger than his palm, but the color sent a jolt through him. Pale yellow, dotted with a faint pattern of tiny roses. The same color and design as the dress Gabrielle had worn yesterday. He rubbed the fabric between his thumb and forefinger, he had to find her. He had to know she was safe.
Buck hauled himself out of the water, his muscles screaming in protest. The last vestiges of daylight were rapidly surrendering to the encroaching darkness. Frustration gnawed at him. He wasn't properly equipped to continue the search after nightfall. He needed a lantern, more supplies, and perhaps even another pair of eyes. But the thought of leaving, of letting the night swallow Gabrielle whole, was unbearable.
With a grimace, Buck acknowledged defeat for the moment. He had to return to town, regroup, and prepare for a renewed search at first light. Steeling his resolve, he slung his aching body onto his horse and turned away from the river, a scrap of yellow fabric clutched tightly in his fist.