Debra Holland (10 page)

How could she explain to the Cobbs the compulsion she felt to find David? She had a fantasy of presenting Ant with the nephew he longed for. To witness their reunion and bask in his gratitude…

A shake of Pepe’s head brought Harriet back to the here and now.

“What?”

An uncertain look crossed the man’s round, brown face. “No Señor Gordon?”

“No Señor Gordon,” she echoed in a firm tone.

“You wait, Señorita Stanton,” he said, his Spanish accent so strong she could barely understand him. “I’ll finish.” He motioned to the bucket of water near the trough. “I’ll go with you.”

“No, thank you, Pepe. I’ll be fine.”

Reluctance showed in his stiff shoulders, but he went inside. A few minutes later, he emerged with Brown Boy and helped her into the saddle.

Harriet arranged her divided skirt and draped the strings of her reticule over the saddle horn. Then she gave Pepe a smile in farewell and urged Brown Boy forward. Yet, as she rode away, the unhappy look on Pepe’s face stayed with her, and, for some reason, she shivered, as if a goose had walked over her grave.

* * *

Ant ran from Isabella’s body to Emily’s and back. No matter what, he couldn’t prevent their deaths, but he kept trying in an endless cycle. Helplessness and rage coursed through his body. Surely he could prevent the women he loved from dying, if he could just get there in time.

But he never could.

Ant awoke, his arms in a death grip around his pillow. He could feel moisture on his cheeks, and his throat ached. With some relieved part of his brain, he realized he’d had a nightmare and hoped he hadn’t scared Widow Murphy awake. But the rest of him shivered with horror.

He shifted and winced. His body felt stiff and sore as if he’d been dragged behind the back of a horse. Exhaustion dragged his eyelids down. He’d worked so hard in the nightmare. It didn’t feel as if he’d actually slept.
I can’t lie about. I need to find David.

The thought of his nephew helped draw Ant from the remnants of the nightmare. He glanced out the small window at the foot of the bed. Dawn cast a dim light in the room. He tossed the pillow aside and sat up.
Time to go after Lewis and bring David home.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Ant walked through the doors of the livery stable, feeling the weight of the gun holstered in the belt around his hips.

Mack, the livery owner, straightened from cleaning the left hoof of a Pinto horse and gave Ant a sideways glance out of rheumy green eyes. “Missed your schoolteacher by about fifteen minutes.”

“What’s that?”

“She went riding off this morning.”

Mack’s words felt like a shot to Ant’s gut.
No, she didn’t go after David!
But he had a bad feeling that she had. “Did Miss Stanton say where she was going?”

“No, and that’s not like her.” Mack paused, rubbed his gray-stubbled chin. “When she takes Brown Boy out, she always says where she’s going.”

His stomach fisting in a knot, Ant took long strides to Shadow, not bothering with the morning greeting and head rub. He threw on the blanket and the saddle, cinching it up.

He slipped the bridle over the horse’s head, centering the bit in Shadow’s mouth. Taking the reins, he led the horse outside, mounted, and kneed Shadow to a canter, resisting the urge to gallop down the street. Harriet wasn’t that far ahead of him. He’d catch her in time.
 

* * *

Harriet reached the clearing and paused Brown Boy, looking around her. The early morning sun shone golden rays through the trees. Birds chirped, and a red squirrel scampered across the open ground, jumped to the top of a rock, and then kept on going out of sight around the shack. The bony mule dozed under the lean-to.

No one stirred, and she wondered uneasily if David and his father still slept. It might be awkward if she woke them.

Harriet dismounted, led Brown Boy to a scraggly patch of grass, and looped the reins over a dead pine branch. She untied her reticule from the saddle horn, hearing two peppermint sticks inside click together, and slipped the strings over her wrist.

She hiked across the clearing, feeling the tension in her stomach and her heart tap tap against her chest. She trod up the rotted steps. Knocking on the rickety door, Harriet called out, “Mr. March, I’m Miss Stanton, the schoolteacher.” She paused, listening for the noise of a presence, before knocking again. “Hello, is anyone home?”

Harriet waited for a while, and then slowly pushed open the door, wrinkling her nose at the stale odor.
No one here
. From the looks of the rumpled, dirty bedding on the two pallets, father and son were out in the woods somewhere.

Backing out of the house, Harriet pivoted, trying to see any sign of where they might have gone. On the upper edge of the clearing, she could see a faint path. Too narrow for the horse to navigate, but a boy could squeeze through.
And so can I.

* * *

The closer Ant came to the clearing, the more fear for Harriet weighed in his gut. As he rode, he cursed himself dozens of times for not telling Harriet the whole story about Lewis March and what he’d done to Emily. Partly from old habit—he didn’t share the family pain and shame with anyone—and partly because he’d wanted to protect Harriet from the horror of the whole sordid tale. But in so doing, he’d endangered her.

Not to mention that her presence was going to make it harder to kill Lewis. He didn’t want her to think he was murdering the man in cold blood. Well he was, but Ant knew he was really meting out justice to a murderer.

What will Harriet think of me? Will she understand?

Does it matter?
Right now all he wanted was to find her and David and get them to safety. He would deal with Lewis later.

Almost there.
Ant kneed Shadow to a faster pace. As he rode, he battled thoughts of what might happen to Harriet if she reached Lewis before he caught up with her. His little schoolmarm had no idea she was heading into the lair of a murderer.

* * *

David sat at the edge of the cliff, legs dangling, drumming his heels against the side of the overhang, his favorite secret place. Behind him, woods grew to a few paces from the edge of the cliff, leaving a narrow swath of grass, dotted with a few boulders that ran alongside the edge.

Far below him, the river flowed by, whitewater frothing over rocks. He loved to watch the water as it rushed down the mountain. Sometimes he considered jumping, angling toward the pool cupped between some rocks, then floating downstream to freedom.
One way or the other, dead or alive, I’ll have escaped you, Pa.

“David!” A woman’s voice called behind him.

Fear prickled through him. He pulled up his legs and scrambled to his feet, dodging behind the shelter of a nearby boulder. Peering out, he saw a brown-haired woman wearing a divided skirt, staring at him with a look of concern on her pretty face. He’d never seen her before.

How does she know my name?

David prepared to sidle to the other side of the boulder and vanish into the woods, but something held him in place. His body canted toward the safety of the trees, and, from the corner of his eye, he gauged the distance from the lady to him.
 

“David, I’m Miss Stanton. I’m the schoolteacher in Sweetwater Springs.”

Paused on the verge of escaping, he waited.

“I’m a friend of your Uncle Ant.”

Who?
David shook his head.

She stepped closer.

He edged away.

The lady held out a hand. “Don’t go. I’ve brought you candy.”
 

Candy.
He remembered candy. It had been a long time though. Not since… His stomach knotted, and his thoughts shied away from the memory.

She untied the strings of a little bag, hanging from her wrist.

He lingered, wary but curious.

She pulled out two red and white sticks.

Peppermint.
With a sudden bite of memory, the taste of cool sweetness made his mouth water.

“They’re for you.”

For me?

She held the peppermint sticks out to him, taking a few careful steps closer.

He debated whether to come out from behind the boulder, snatch them from her, and run off, but instead decided to wait.

“Your Uncle Ant has been trying to find you.”

This time the name rang a vague bell in his brain. He could sense the memory clanging against the painful place where he kept everything locked away.

“He’s been looking for you for a long time. I can tell he loves you very much.”

The woman’s words skittered over him like ants on his skin. Too uncomfortable to let in the meaning of what she was saying, he concentrated on the candy.

“Won’t you have a piece, David?” She stepped closer.

He leaned forward over the top of the boulder and took one stick between his thumb and forefinger, then slowly slid it out of her hand. All the while, he kept an eye on the lady in case she decided to do something to him. Although he didn’t know what such a small woman could do, he just didn’t want to find out.

“Good,” she said, satisfaction in her voice.

David risked a full glance at her face, and saw her smiling and looking misty-eyed. That look relaxed the tightness in his chest a bit. He dropped his gaze and popped the end of the candy stick into his mouth, giving a long pulling suck. When the sweet flavor hit his tongue, he breathed in the pleasure of it, the scent of peppermint lingering in his nostrils.

The woman stood quietly watching him. Somehow her scrutiny didn’t make him uncomfortable. She had kind grey eyes and a warmth about her that reminded him of … His thoughts jumped away. But, before he could settle again into his enjoyment of the candy, he saw movement in the bushes around the faint path he’d made in his walks to the cliff.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Feeling as though she was trying to coax a bird to eat out of her hand, Harriet held her breath lest a sudden movement frighten the boy away. He was skinny and dirty, dressed in too-small rags that barely resembled a shirt and pants. Yet he had Ant’s brown eyes and hair, and his uncle’s angled cheekbones. Watching him caused an unexpected surge of maternal emotion to seize her heart. When he’d taken a peppermint stick, she’d wanted to cheer and cry at the same time.

David looked past her and his expression changed from wary to terrified. His body stiffened. He pointed behind her, jabbing his finger in a
look
out
gesture. Then he ducked behind the rock.

Imagining a grizzly, Harriet whirled around, but instead saw a man, squeezing between the last two trees and bursting into the clearing. He was big with a balled stomach, yet barely any flesh on the rest of his heavy frame. His puffy features looked unhealthy.

Before her racing heart could slow, Harriet realized from the narrow-eyed look on his face, and the hands clenched into meaty fists in front of his body, that she might be in as much trouble from this man as from a bear.
 

“Mr. March...” She started to greet him, but before she could get a whole word out, he took two running steps and grabbed her shoulders.

“What have we here?” The man wrenched the remaining peppermint stick out of her hand. “Trying to entice my boy, eh?” He kept one hand on her shoulder, digging his fingers into her skin, while he shoved the candy in his pocket with the other hand. “Pretty little girly, aren’t you?”

Fear shot through her.

His free hand squeezed her breast, hard enough to hurt.

 
Shocked at the violation, she cried out and swung hard.

He caught her wrist. “Scream away, girly. There’s no one to hear you.” His leering face lowered to hers.

The stench of his breath made her gag and turn her head. She struggled to get away, shoving and twisting. Her hat tumbled off her head and sailed off the cliff. Her elbow caught him is his ribcage.

He let out an “ummff,” and then slapped her face.

Pain radiated across her cheek. Dazed, she collapsed backward, pulling him off balance.

He fell on top of her. His weight was heavy, his breath foul.

Harriet screamed, pushed.

He reared back, propped up by one hand and pinned her arm with another.

David peered around the boulder, his eyes wide as he stared at them.

Gasping, she tried to shift out from under the man. She got one leg free and kicked at him, but her skirt hampered her, and her foot barely tapped his shin.

He growled, then grabbed the top of her shirtwaist and ripped it to her stomach.

Harriet fought through her terror to stay conscious...to try to wrestle away from him. Her fingers strained toward a rock, but she couldn’t quite grab it. She reached. Just another inch.

* * *

Ant rode into the clearing and saw Brown Boy tied to a tree but no sign of Harriet. With a curse, he dismounted, looping the reins around a tree limb, then started toward the shack.