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Authors: Tracey Bateman

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BOOK: Defiant Heart
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“Yeah, imagine.” Blake wasn't even close to amused by the twins' antics, and he intended to give them each a few choice words as soon as they showed up.

“You want me to ride on ahead and find them?”

“Yeah. And make them stay put.”

“Yes, boss.”

Fannie reached for the pistol sitting on the seat between her and Toni. She fingered the cold steel, trying to decide if now was the time to use her ace in the hole. One thing Tom had taught her, there was a time to hold back and a time to play your hand. Of course, Tom had lost his shirt nine times out of ten, so she wasn't so sure anything he taught her was much good.

Their escort had become more talkative during the last half hour, his spirits much improved, like Tom after a shot or two of whiskey on a cold winter night. But Fannie hadn't noticed a bottle, so she could only conclude that his change in demeanor was a result of knowing they were getting close to meeting up with his partners or deputies or whoever they were supposed to meet. One thing was certain, the marshal wasn't going it alone.

But how close were they? If she didn't make a move soon, it might be too late. No telling how many men would be in camp once they arrived. Might be one—and one she could
handle—or it might be a hundred, and no way she could stave off that many men with one six-shooter.

Toni nudged her and nodded for her to do it. “Double over like you're sick,” Fannie whispered. She pulled on the reins and halted the oxen just as Toni picked up on her cue and started moaning like a woman in labor.

“What do you think you're doing, girl?” The marshal's voice was gruff and threatening.

“Something's wrong with Toni.”

“What's wrong?”

“I-I can't say,” Toni said, groaning and moaning like death was imminent. If not for the seriousness of their present circumstances, Fannie would have laughed and laughed.

“I think you best take a look at her, sir.”

“I ain't no doctor,” he growled. “Git movin'. There ain't nothin' we can do about it for now.”

Taking a chance the man wasn't who he said he was, Fannie tried a bluff—another card-playing tactic Tom was no good at.

“I thought all lawmen received some medical know-how before they were sworn in.”

He gave her a stupid look that, in the light of his lantern, looked downright comical as he tried to figure out how to respond.

“Well, we are taught a little doctorin', but mostly I ain't very good at it.”

Toni's wails grew louder and more pathetic. Less convincing to anyone with half a brain, but apparently the so-called marshal lacked in that department.

“I reckon I could take a look.”

“We'd appreciate anything you can do for her.”

He swung down from his horse, his rifle firmly in his hands. He frowned as he looked Toni over, clearly trying to decide if he ought to touch her or not. “You-uh-say yer innards are ailin'?”

Toni nodded, her face twisted in agony. “What do you think it might be?”

He slipped a hand across the stubble on his cheek as his perplexity about the situation clearly overwhelmed him.

“Maybe you ought to take a look, sir,” Fannie said, tossing in the “sir” to throw him off the scent.

He nodded with self-importance. “Maybe you're right.” He took a step up on the side step of the wagon.

Fannie knew it was now or never.

In a flash, she whipped the pistol from its hiding place and shoved it inches from his nose. Surprise widened his eyes. Then fear as Fannie turned her lips upward in a smile that clearly bespoke the change of events. “Drop the rifle, Marshal.” He did so. “Now back down, slowly. Hands up!”

He complied.

“Nice job, Toni.” She grinned. “You could have been an actress on the London stage.”

Toni laughed out loud. A beautiful sound after days of heartache.

“No thank you,” she said, climbing from the wagon. “Finding a nice husband and settling in the West will suit me just fine.”

It was apparent their captor turned captive was starting to realize the situation he now faced.

“Where'd you get that gun?”

“Only a fool doesn't check a person's personal belongings before they kidnap them. And no U.S. Marshal is that big of a fool,
Marshal.
Who are you really?”

“I don't have to tell you nothin',” he said, a sneer curling his lips.

“Now, Clay, there ain't no call for rudeness.”

Fannie turned as a hulking shadow appeared from behind the wagon.

“Yeah, Clay,” another voice, tinged with amusement, echoed. “No call for rudeness.”

Dread turned over in Fannie's gut. Toni uttered a groan—a real one this time, and Fannie knew her friend's despair rivaled her own. The voices were all too familiar. Only God could help them now.

 

Blake fought to keep his panic in check as Grant reported back twenty minutes after riding out after the children. “No sign of them, Blake.”

“What do you mean? Did you look all up and down the creek?”

“It ain't that big. And it ain't deep enough to drown two kids and a horse with no sign, if that's what you're wondering.”

Relief washed over Blake that he hadn't been forced to ask. To voice his fears the children had escaped the waters of the Big Blue River only to drown in a creek because he'd
been foolish enough to send them off alone. “Do you think they were lost?” Or please God no, captured by Indians, killed by wild animals?

Grant shook his head. “I did some looking around. They never made it to the creek at all. I suggest we take a few men first thing in the morning and double back.”

First thing in the morning? They could be dead by then. Or hurt, or scared. Fannie would never forgive him if he let anything happen to those twins. They were everything to her. All she had in the world, and she had entrusted their well-being to him. Their futures. And what had he done? Put them in probable danger by being an idiot.

“You're not thinking of going out in the dark?” Grant asked.

“It crossed my mind.”

“I'd advise against it.”

“I can follow the wagon trail back to where we stopped for our noon meal and make camp. I'll be that much closer and should be able to pick up their trail at first light.”

“Should I tell Vern Cooper to keep an eye on things until we get back?”

“We?”

“You can't go alone. It's not a good idea, being as how you're the wagon master and all. If something happens to you, we're in big trouble.”

The former sheriff was smart. And had a point. “I'd appreciate the company.”

While Grant prepared Vern Cooper and the rest of the train captains for Blake's absence, Blake made a stop at the
Kanes' wagon. He dreaded telling Mrs. Kane that the children were missing but knew the news needed to come from him.

She began to weep as soon as the first words were out of his mouth. “I knew it. I just knew it was too good to be true. I'm just not meant to be a mother.”

Vern placed an arm around his wife. “We've lost four children, Mr. Tanner. Three to illness and Becca.” His voice broke. “We thought God had given us another chance. But…”

“Don't give up.” A surge of determination shot through Blake. He would most certainly bring back those children and, after a good reprimand, he'd turn them over to this couple who would love them as much as any child had ever been loved. Fannie had made a good choice.

 

Fannie's wrists burned raw and red from the tight ropes binding her hands together in front of her. She stumbled as Tom led her into camp by a leash. Toni wasn't faring much better as George shoved her forward.

If only she had waited a few more minutes to reveal the gun. There were only George, Tom, Clay—the pseudomarshal—and one other man, who remained in the shadows as they entered the camp. Clay had tied his horse to the back of Fannie's wagon and drove the oxen himself, taking no chances Fannie had something else up her sleeve.

Tom shoved Fannie to the ground and tied the rope around her middle, firmly securing her to the wagon wheel. George followed his example with Toni. Thankfully, he secured her on the same side of the wagon as Fannie. They were on the
side of the wagon closest to the fire, so no wild animals would venture close.

Tom stuffed a filthy handkerchief in her mouth. “How do you like being tied up and gagged?”

Wishing she could call him every name that entered her mind, she gave him a steady glare.

“Well, now,” he mocked. “Don't have nothin' to say?”

She had plenty to say if the coward would take this foul handkerchief out of her mouth. Anger eclipsed fear at the thought of Tom's getting the better of her. The idiot couldn't even balance his own books, and yet he'd devised a plan to capture her. One that even Blake had fallen for.

“What are you planning to do with us?” Toni asked.

George gave an evil chuckle. “That's gonna depend on you, now ain't it?”

“On me?”

“I lost me a bunch of business when you left. Yer gonna be workin' day and night to make it up.” He squatted in front of her and took her chin in one palm. “Where's my money,” he hissed.

Toni jerked her head up and said, “I don't know what you're talking about.”

Fannie watched in horror as he reared back and struck with such force that Toni's head slammed against the wagon wheel.

Without thought, Fannie fought against her bindings, twisting, her raw throat issuing a scream behind the gag.

“Now, look. You have Fannie all upset,” George said, his fist wound around Toni's hair. “The money.”

“I don't have it anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“I gave it away before your fake marshal kidnapped us.”

A guttural roar bellowed from George. “You gave my money away?”

Toni's lips curved ever so slightly, and even as they did, Fannie's heart filled with dread. “Every last cent.”

Toni didn't so much as flinch as George drew back his fist and unleashed his fury.

Helpless horror overwhelmed Fannie and tears of anger welled up inside of her. One word repeated over and over in her head as George meted out his punishment with more force than anyone should have to endure: No! No! No!

When Toni's head finally lolled in unconsciousness, George pulled back, his breath coming in gasps.

Tom turned to her. “Is my money gone too?”

She nodded, bracing herself for the same punishment Toni received. Instead, Tom turned to the man in the shadows. “This is yer fault, Willard. If you'd got hold of her the first time. Or the second time ya had her, I'd have my money.”

Fannie fought her nausea as Willard James stepped out of the shadows. He stared at Fannie. “Told ya I'd see ya again.”

Tom gave him a shove. “Don't sound like you had anythin' to do about it. Because of you, I'm missin' my money and the other two.”

The twins. Fannie should have known he wouldn't be satisfied with just her. He wanted Kip and Katie back too. After all, one slave wouldn't suffice when a man was accustomed to three, she thought with outrage. Bitterness.

Then a thought struck her. They were still wanted. She thought of the poster with the images of herself and Toni sketched onto the paper. Grim satisfaction sliced through her. Tom might not get the pleasure of her company for too long. Because the first real lawman she came across, she intended to turn herself in. Better to face the end of a noose than life with that stinking, miserable pig.

The men soon began to pass a flask back and forth between them. They kept the fire low and ate jerky. Fannie swept her gaze to Toni. Her bruised, bloodied face nearly broke Fannie's heart. She prayed for the only friend she'd ever had. Please, God. Don't let her die.

Their plight had been dire enough when it appeared they'd be facing a judge for a crime they hadn't committed. But to be sentenced to a life in Hawkins with these two men would be worse than before. Especially if Toni's present condition was an indicator of what was in store for them.

Still, she couldn't help but feel a measure of satisfaction that the twins were safe. She closed her eyes, picturing them snug within the Kanes' tent, sleeping soundly, bellies filled and loved.

Life would have been wonderful if their plan had worked out, and they had reached Oregon together, but for this one small favor, she would be ever thankful to God. She vowed that for the rest of her life, however long or short, no matter if she hung for murder or remained Tom's captive, she would picture smiles on the twins' faces and remember that their happiness was well worth her sacrifice.

 

Blake found where the twins had doubled back after barely heading toward the creek. How on earth had they gotten past every scout and lookout in the wagon train? Not to mention himself? The only thing he could figure was that the distraction of the broken wagon axle had given them just the opportunity they needed to slip by undetected.

 

Fannie's body ached miserably as the sun burned through the top of her head and her mouth begged for something moist. The drunken fools had stayed awake laughing and mocking and feeling very pleased with themselves. Tom appeared to have forgiven Willard for being inept, and the two did a little jig sometime after midnight. The sun had been up for hours, and still, all four lay close to cold ashes where the campfire had long since died.

“Psst.”

Fannie swung around, her heart leaping. Toni? She frowned. Toni's eyes were still closed—unconscious, sleeping, or…Her chest rose and fell, to Fannie's relief. Just as well she remained unconscious. The pain would probably be more than she could bear if she woke up.

“Psst. Fannie.”

She twisted enough to look behind her. Kip! Katie! What in blazes were they doing?

Kip stayed low and slithered close while Katie hung back, hiding behind the wagon wheel on the other side of the wagon. Kip reached her swiftly and took the gag from her mouth. “What are you doing here? Where's Blake?”

“Shh.” Kip frowned and went to work on the bindings.

“I mean it, Kip. What are you doing here?”

BOOK: Defiant Heart
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