Runaway, page 20
Grasping the reins of his team, Will led them toward the barn, calling Cassie to follow him. Hurriedly she gathered her skirts above her ankles and ran behind him, barely able to keep up as he led the horses just inside the big double doors.
His hands were deft as he removed the harnesses and led the animals to their stalls, his instructions to Cassie terse. She was to stay inside the house with Josie and his mother, locking all the doors and watching for any sign of Bennett Percival.
“I can shoot pretty well,” she told him, following at his heels as he brought his stallion from his stall and saddled him quickly.
“Then get my shotgun from the cabinet in my office and load it up. I’m takin’ my rifle with me. Run up to the house and get it out for me, Cass. There’s extra bullets in my bottom desk drawer. I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Will?” It was a desperate sound and she inhaled quickly, not wanting to cause him distress. “Please be careful,” she said quietly, her hand reaching to touch his shoulder. She wanted so badly to hold him, just for a moment, just to let him know her love would be with him.
As though he sensed her thoughts, he turned to her, sweeping her almost from her feet as he enclosed her in a firm embrace. His mouth touched hers softly at first, then in a possessive, passionate blending of their lips that took her breath. He lifted her, and she clung to him, her arms tight around his neck, her lips opening to the full splendor of his kiss.
“I’ll be fine, sweetheart. Just don’t make me worry about you. Promise you’ll do as I asked.” His voice rasped in her ear as he held her against his hard body, as closely as their layers of clothing would allow.
“I promise, Will.” She leaned back to meet his eyes, their depths dark with purpose. He looked almost a stranger to her, his jaw hard, the flesh tight across the bones of his face, as if a primitive force had been loosed within him.
He looked like a warrior. If he’d borne a spear and carried a knife, he’d have been an image from the past, she decided, watching as he slid a bridle into place on his horse.
“I’ll get your rifle,” she said, hurrying from the barn to do his bidding, sensing that he was already far removed from this place in his mind, already planning for the return of his niece.
He rode to the porch as she came out the door with his gun and a supply of ammunition. Quickly he slid the rifle into his scabbard and the bullets into a pouch. “Did you load it?” he asked, thanking her with a brief smile as she nodded in reply. “Get in the house, Cassie. I’m depending on you.”
The trail was fresh, the unshod Indian pony’s hoofprints blending in spots with the horse he followed. At first there had been prints of a man, then at the edge of the far pasture a horse had been waiting, the ground marked with impatient hoofprints. From that point on, it had been two horses.
There weren’t many places the man could have taken Maggie, Will thought, looking ahead to where the hills were covered with maple and walnut trees. In several of those areas small caves existed, some shallow, scooped-out sections of rock, others deeper and capable of concealing the quarry Many Fingers was tracking.
The thought of Maggie being held captive by the scoundrel who had sired her was abhorrent to Will, his stomach lurching as he considered the harm that might befall the child. She’d no doubt put up a fight when he took her, and the thought that he might have hurt her physically lent fury to Will’s determination that Maggie be rescued without delay.
A rocky section of ground slowed his pace as he lost the trail, riding back and forth over the area. He scanned the surroundings until once more the double set of prints, partially hidden by scattered areas of shale, caught his eye.
Nudging his horse forward, he rode into a grove of maples and up the gentle rise of a hill that was almost covered by the shade of taller trees. The rustle of a small animal in the grass was loud in the silence, and his head turned quickly at the sound. From a nearby tree a robin sang and then was still once more.
Then from somewhere ahead of him the low sound of a whippoorwill caught his ear and, with a sixth sense, he recognized the call. He halted, his stallion stamping impatiently. Again the bird call sounded, closer this time, and Will waited. Through the trees ahead, the gliding form of Many Fingers approached, his torso almost naked, leather leggings and moccasins his only covering as he came into sight. A long gun in his hand gleamed dully in the shadows and his eyes glowed with a barely pent anger.
He approached silently and spoke only when he stood at the head of Will’s stallion. “The man is in a cave just at the top of the next hill. He has tied Maggie inside.”
“Is she hurt?”
Many Fingers shook his head. “Doesn’t look like it. I think she’s asleep for now. I don’t see a way to get to him without…”
Will nodded. “Show me.”
The half-breed ran ahead, dodging between trees, and Will followed, bent over the stallion’s back to escape lowhanging branches, until they came to where the pony was tied. Sliding from his horse, Will looped the reins over a tree limb and checked his rifle again, before the two men headed over the crest of the hill and down into the small valley below.
Keeping to the shelter of trees, they moved silently ahead. After a few minutes they came to a vantage point from which they could see ahead, to where their quarry had gone to ground. Will peered intently at the place his friend pointed out, and then shook his head, unable to spot their prey. He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them to slits, looking once more beyond the overhanging trees to where the side of the hill formed small pockets and hollows of rock.
There, where the sun cast a finger of light through a small clearing, he caught a glimpse of a pale garment. Then another movement caught his eye, and he watched as a horse shifted in the shadows within the small aperture. He looked inquiringly at the man beside him.
“We wait.” With no trace of indecision, the dark-skinned man issued the command, and Will nodded his agreement.
The sun moved across the sky, the shadows shifted place and the two men remained motionless, intent on the small opening in the rocky wall ahead. Then, just inside the overhang, the small figure on the ground twisted and turned with a sudden movement, and a soft cry echoed through the silence.
“Mama? Mama!” Maggie’s whimper carried to their listening ears, and the two watchers exchanged grim looks of apprehension.
“Hush, girl.” The rasping voice of the unseen man within the cave scolded the child, and then he appeared, just a flash of color as he pulled a jacket over a pale shirt and bent to speak to the little girl. “Nobody’s gonna hurt you. Just behave yourself and you’ll be fine.”
“Can you get a good hit from here?” Many Fingers asked, his words lower than a whisper.
Will shook his head. The danger of a ricochet was too much of a risk to take, given the rocky confines of the cave. Maggie was in no danger for now. He would not place her in peril with his impatience.
Once more Maggie called out. “Mama! I want you to take me back to my mama!”
“You behave yourself, hear me, girl?” Bennett Percival blustered, his attempt at mollifying the child a thing of the past. “You’re gonna see your mama in a little while. You just stay here and be quiet, and when I come back, I’ll take you to your mama, you hear?”
Maggie was silent and unmoving as her father rose to stand over her. Leading his horse, he moved from the shelter of the cave and made his way down the rocky side of the hill to where a level spot allowed him to mount.
“Now?” Will asked, lifting his rifle to his shoulder.
Many Fingers shook his head. “He can still see Maggie. Don’t give him a reason to shoot.”
“I won’t miss,” Will said quietly.
“Wait.”
Will looked at his friend, lowering his gun slowly. “You want to do this yourself, don’t you?”
“Josephine is my woman. Maggie will be my child. It is my place.”
“If you shoot him in the back, you’re a dead man, my friend. You’ll face a lynching, sure as shootin’.”
Many Fingers shook his head. “I am not a fool.”
They watched as Percival rode past them at a distance, skirting the area where they waited, but without a doubt heading back to the farmhouse.
Moving quickly, the two men ran through the trees and climbed to the opening in the hill where Maggie waited. Her eyes alight with relief, she called out to them.
“Uncle Will! Tall Horse! Did you see him? He made me ride on his horse. Do you know my daddy’s a bad man?” Even as Will untied her hands and feet, Maggie spouted her anger, her tearstained face flushed with a combination of fear and fury.
“It’s all right, half-pint,” Will told her softly, hugging her to himself. “We won’t let him hurt you.”
“Where’s Tall Horse going?” Maggie said, peering over her uncle’s shoulder. “He’s running real fast, Uncle Will.”
Silently, black hair flowing over his shoulders, the lithe form made its way through the trees, disappearing from view in moments. Will stood, holding Maggie closely, unwilling to release her. “We’ll follow him, honey. He’s gone after the man who took you.”
“You mean my daddy?”
Will shook his head, his features grim. “He’s not fit to be your daddy, honey. Don’t call him that anymore.”
At a slower pace than he’d climbed the hill, Will made his way back. Maggie’s hand in his, he led the way through the trees, finally topping the next rise to where his horse waited below.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he told the child, lifting her to his saddle. “We’re goin’ home.”
“You might as well come out, Josie. You’re goin’ with me or you’ll never see hide nor hair of that brat again.”
From the rear of the corncrib the voice of the man she’d put her trust in, and who had betrayed her in the worst possible way, called her name. Josie shuddered, standing next to the kitchen window, her eyes red from weeping, her hands clenched tightly.
“I’ll have to go with him,” she whispered.
“Not on your life,” Cassie told her firmly. “He doesn’t have Maggie with him, and it doesn’t seem to me that his word is worth much.”
“You’d better skedaddle, Bennett Percival,” Clara called from the window. “My son will be on your trail before you can lay tracks.”
The man laughed aloud. “He’s probably in town lookin’ for me to take the afternoon train out of here. No way he could know where the kid is, Josie. You come with me now, and we’ll head out and get her.”
“What do you want me for?” Josie asked pleadingly. “You sent me away just a few weeks ago.”
“I got plans for us, woman. I decided you can earn me a bundle, one way or another. Come on out here, now.”
“I’m afraid for Maggie,” Josie whispered. “What if he gets impatient and goes after her?”
At that, Bennett Percival mounted his horse and appeared around the side of the corncrib, riding toward the house. “You’d better get out here, woman, or I’ll leave that kid to rot. You’ll never find her.”
Josie ran to the door and unlatched it, Cassie fast on her heels. “No, don’t, Josie! Will said to stay inside, no matter what.”
Josie’s tears fell in a torrent as she fought to escape Cassie’s hold. “I have to! He means it, Cassie! He won’t hurt me if I go with him. I’ll be all right.”
Tugging loose from Cassie’s grasp, Josie went out onto the porch. “I’ll go with you, Bennett. Let me saddle a horse first.”
He rode closer. “Just get on behind me,” he said shortly, offering her his hand to lift her. His eyes darted toward the house. “You in there, don’t plan on stoppin’ me.”
“The hell I won’t,” Clara vowed, stalking to the door. As Josie started down the steps to where Bennett waited, Clara lifted her shotgun. “Get back, Josie,” she shouted. Waiting only until her daughter dropped to the ground, Clara pulled the triggers on the double-barreled weapon, her target too close to miss.
The horse’s frightened whinny was shrill in the air, in sharp contrast to the utter silence of the man who fell heavily to the ground. A clatter of hoofbeats followed within seconds, and then the riderless animal halted in its tracks, shivering as blood ran from two or three places on his front quarters.
With a cry of despair, Josie covered her face with her hands. Clara stood stock-still, the smoking gun pointing downward, as if the weight of it were too much to bear. Her face was ashen, her eyes closed, as though unable to bear the sight of the damage she had done.
Cassie rushed past her, only casting one small glance at the man who lay crumpled on the ground, bleeding profusely, the ground a crimson pool beneath his head.
“Josie!” She fell to the ground and lifted Josie into her arms. She held her tightly against her breasts, rocking the slight form to and fro. “Josie, it’s all right. It’s over.”
From across the pasture a sound reached Cassie’s ears, a primitive wailing note, and then the form of a half-naked man, stretched out over the back of a pony, came into sight. “Look, Josie. Many Fingers is coming.”
She forced Josie to an upright position, blocking her view of Bennett’s body, and then, lifting her to her feet, urged her again. “Look! Josie!”
He was there. Sliding from the bare back of his pony and with one scornful look at the crumpled body on the ground, he strode to the woman he had vowed to cherish.
Clara spoke from the porch. “Where’s my baby? Is she safe?”
The half-breed nodded, his gaze intent on Josie. “Did he hurt you?” Guttural and rasping, his voice ground out the question.
Josie shook her head, her eyes opening as he spoke. “Maggie?” The single word was a question in itself.
“Will is bringing her. She was not harmed.”
Josie’s slim form slumped against Cassie, her head bowed, her strength seemingly at an end.
“Josephine, come to me.” In liquid tones he called her name, and she responded, her head lifting, her face radiant as he reached for her. He offered her his hand, much as Bennett Percival had only moments before, and her response was immediate. Her slender fingers gripped his and he led her, mounting his horse before reaching with both arms to pull her before him, so that she sat upright across his thighs.
“Tell Will we have gone. Tell Maggie her mother will return to her later today.” His horse moved at the urging of his feet and legs and, carrying its double burden, set off toward the west, where meadows and wooded areas spread to the horizon.
The two women on the porch watched, stunned by the departure, by Josie’s ready compliance, and then looked at each other.
Clara recovered first, turning to enter the house, gun across her arms, heading for Will’s office, where the gun rack sat empty. “I can’t believe I pulled those triggers,” she said, shuddering as she looked at the weapon she held.
“Better that you did it than one of the men,” Cassie told her, following in her wake, unwilling to be alone in the presence of the dead man.
Clara’s movements were precise as she put the gun away. She sat down quickly in the chair before the desk, her hands visibly trembling, her mouth quivering. “I killed that man,” she whispered.
Cassie went to her and knelt before her, her hands reaching to enclose Clara’s, her fingers folding around the chill flesh. “You did what you had to, Mother. He deserved to die.” Her words were laced with bitterness—she spoke of Bennett Percival, yet in her heart the face she saw was that of Remus Chandler.
He deserved to die.
Chapter Sixteen
With deep, shuddering breaths, Josie fought the tears her eyes begged to shed, blinking to clear her vision.
“Lean on me, Josephine,” the man holding her said quietly, and she obeyed, relaxing against him, absorbing his strength as he enclosed her within the cradle of his arms.
“Where are we going?” she asked, bewilderment alive in her voice. “There’s nothing out here except trees and the meadow, until you get to Eben’s place. Are you taking me to see Eben and Louise?”
He shook his head. “We have waited long enough for this, Josephine. Today I will make you my bride. There is a place I will take you.”
“Your bride?” She shivered as the word passed her lips, and she leaned her head on his shoulder, looking up at his fierce profile. “You’re going to marry me? Today?”
“Hush, Bright Eyes. We will be there in just a little while. Then I will tell you the way of it.”
They passed the edge of the meadow, riding beneath overhanging branches, the birds scattering as the pony made his way past their places of shelter. With a flash of pale color a white-tailed deer crossed in front of them, and Josephine’s eyes were wide with delight.
“Watch for a young one to follow.” His voice was hushed as he drew his mount to a halt. The underbrush crackled as a fawn broke from concealment and ran pellmell in pursuit of its mother.
Their eyes met, sharing their pleasure, and Josephine snuggled closer to the warmth of the man who held her.
He rode on, turning his horse into the wooded area, bowing low to protect her from the tree limbs that snatched at their hair. A gradual widening of the path he took led to a clearing in the woods, the sun in the afternoon sky casting shadows on a clear pool of water. Sliding from his pony, he lifted her from the horse’s back to stand before him.
She looked around the clearing and breathed deeply of the sweetness of flowers and grass. “I remember this place from when I was a child. My brothers used to come here sometimes. It seems different somehow.” The pony at her back, the man only inches from her, Josie was hesitant as Many Fingers remained silent, listening to her rambling words.
Then, taking a deep breath, as if she must recognize whatever purpose he intended, she turned to him. “Why did we come here? What do you want of me?” Her eyes wary yet unafraid, she faced him.
His hand lifted her chin and his gaze was dark with passion as he looked at the woman he desired. “I’ve already told you, Josephine. This is where you will become my woman.”
