Defiant Heart (4 page)

A snort from Tom brought Fannie's attention back around to the disgusting man. “George has been looking for you, gal. Where ya been?”

Toni gave a haughty toss of her blond ringlets, refusing to answer.

“Cat got your tongue?” Tom baited.

Katie returned with a strip of cloth. She carefully avoided looking at Tom, but that didn't stop him from trying to lower her defenses.

“Katie-gal,” he said. “You best git over here and let me loose. Now, I know a sweet little girl like you didn't have nothin' to do with this. I won't be takin' nothin' out on you. Alls you gotta do is untie my hands.”

Everything inside Fannie screamed to yell at him to just shut up—or else—but her stomach churned, and fear kept her silent. It wouldn't take much for him to get loose anyway. With or without Katie's help. Terror licked her insides at the very thought of what he might do if he were to break free from his bindings before they got away.

Where was Kip with that rope?

Unable to get a response from Katie, Tom turned his attention back to Toni. “Now, why do you want to run away, sweetheart? You know George counts on you.”

Toni's chest rose and fell, and Fannie could tell she was this close to letting tears spill down her cheeks. Fannie wished Kip had thought to gag the man as well as tie him up. But she didn't want to chance getting too close until the bindings were tighter.

“Say hello to Arnold for me while you can still talk, because once he gets hold of you, I'm thinkin' you ain't going to be talkin' to no one for a coon's age. Probably won't be workin' for a while, neither.” Tom's dark gaze took in Toni's scanty attire.

Toni drew the shawl more tightly about her.

The exchange brought another concern. “Don't you have any real clothes?” Fannie asked.

The woman's cheeks bloomed, and she shook her head. “George wouldn't allow it. I guess he doesn't figure any of his girls will run away if we're wearing undergarments.”

“Sounds like a right smart idea,” Tom blurted. “Soon as I get outta these ropes, I'm gonna make you and Katie, here, do that very thing.”

Katie's body began to shake. Anger burned Fannie. It was one thing for Tom to bully her. Quite another for him to try to intimidate poor Katie. She tamped down her own fear and swung around to face Tom. “You shut up!” Before he could recover from the shock of her backtalk, she turned to her little sister. “Don't worry, Katie,” she said softly. “We're getting out of here just as soon as Kip gets back with that rope.”

“You just keep on a-dreamin', gal.” Tom's voice lifted with anger, and his breath left his body in huffs as he strained against his ropes. He glared at Fannie, shooting darts of hatred from his eyes. “I'm gonna kill you, ya know.”

Katie gasped.

Toni stepped forward and placed an arm around the petrified girl. “Don't listen to him, honey. He's not getting out of those ropes.”

“And you ain't gettin' out of this town dressed like a whore,” Tom shot back.

As much as she hated to admit it, Tom had a point. The wagon train folk would rather take a burning arrow through the heart than welcome a fancy woman to their sacred circle.
Of course there was no guarantee that bullheaded wagon master would ever change his mind anyway. But with Toni dressed like that, there was no chance at all. And Fannie couldn't risk that this woman, or anyone else, might keep her and the twins from being as safe as possible in the middle of the vast wagon train. Fannie moved slowly across the dirt floor and entered the store just as Kip came back carrying a rope. “About time,” Fannie growled, as her head spun with dizzy blackness. She took a few deep gulps of air to gain control.

“Sorry,” Kip muttered. “The dadburn thing was on the top shelf. I had to climb to reach it.” He frowned and searched Fannie's face. “You okay?”

“I'll be fine.”

“Where're you going?”

She jerked her thumb toward the saloon girl. “She can't come along dressed like that. You and Toni get him tied up tight and stuff Katie's cloth into that fat mouth of his. I'll just be a minute.”

In the back of the room hung four plain dresses, where they'd been hanging for over two years. Tom was convinced that he needed to carry ready-made items for the travelers—although Fannie had tried to warn him these pioneer women might buy ribbons, but they weren't likely to plunk down good money for a ready-made dress to get ruined on the trail. She'd received a hard smack for her trouble. It had been the last time she'd offered her opinion on business matters. Now, however, she was glad for his poor business decision. She yanked two from their pegs and slung them over her arm;
then, on a whim, grabbed two pairs of trousers and two men's shirts for herself. She didn't care what anyone thought of her. She wasn't going to be encumbered in heavy skirts over the next few months. Carefully, she undressed and slid on the new clothes. Then she walked back into the living quarters just as Toni gave Tom a smug grin and stuffed a piece of flannel into his mouth. The muffled sound of his angry curses filled the room as he struggled against the newly secured bindings.

“Fannie, you're wearing britches!” Kip's scandalized voice filled the small room. “That ain't right.”

“Mind your own business, Kip. I don't care if it isn't right. My dress wouldn't hold up on the trail. And none of these are going to fit me.”

“I think you look kind of pretty in those clothes,” Katie said. “Could I have some too?”

Fannie gave the girl an affectionate smile. “I'm afraid there aren't any trousers even close to your size, sweetie. Mine are the smallest pair and even they're too big. See?” She pulled up her shirt and showed her sister the rope with which she'd belted the britches.

“What if my dress doesn't last?”

It wasn't the first time Fannie had thought of that. “I packed some dress goods in the wagon, so we can make you a couple of sturdy dresses. Don't worry.”

“Are those for me?” Toni asked.

Nodding, Fannie carefully handed the gowns to Toni, mindful of the sharp pain in her sides. That stinking Tom had broken some ribs again. “Maybe one of these will fit you. Unless you'd rather wear the trousers.”

A smile spread across Toni's face. “It's been a long time since I wore lady's clothing. I believe I'll stick with these. And thank you for being so thoughtful.” She dropped her shawl, then took note of Kip's stare.

“Kip, get your eyes back in your head,” Fannie commanded. “Gather your things together.”

“I'll just go into the store to change,” Toni said.

She returned momentarily, looking more woman than prostitute in the dark blue cotton dress that was a bit too snug but eminently more suitable than the undergarments she had been wearing. She held out her hand. “May I have my money back? There's no chance of me stealing your wagon now, is there?”

“I guess not.” Fannie handed it over.

Toni peeled off a couple of bills and tossed them on the floor in front of Tom. “For the gowns. Even though they're not worth that much.”

“Why'd you do that? He wasn't ever going to sell them anyway,” Fannie said.

“Because, I've already told you, I'm not a thief.”

“Suit yourself.” Fannie sprang into action. “Let's go.”

“Wait, Fannie.” Toni grabbed her arm. “If we go like this, someone may come along, tonight even, and let him go.”

Fannie considered her words for a second. She was right. “What do you think we should do?”

Toni planted her hands on rounded hips and pursed her lips in concentration. Then she nodded. “We'll put a sign out front that Tom's gone to Council Grove for supplies. That way no one will look for him for a few days.”

“What if he starves?”

Fannie gave a short laugh and motioned to his enormous stomach. “He could live for months on what's already in there.”

“Fannie…”

“All right, fine.” She shook her head. “But we can't say Council Grove. No one will look for him for at least a week if we do that.”

“Good!” Kip spit.

“No, Kip. It's one thing to let him go without food, but if he doesn't have water, he'll die. And I don't want to stand before Mama's God and have to explain my part in that.”

At the reminder of their ma's saintly ways, Kip nodded and dropped his defiant gaze. He kicked at the floor and shoved his fists into his pockets. “We'll just say he went huntin' for a few days.”

“No one's going to believe that,” Fannie said. “Everyone knows Tom couldn't shoot a dead deer at three feet, let alone bag a live animal.”

A shrug lifted Toni's shoulders. “Kip's suggestion is best. Maybe it'll at least give us a day or so head start.”

“All right.” Ignoring the bruising pain in her shoulders and ribs and the excruciating ache in her head, Fannie grabbed a writing slate and pencil from the shelf below the counter and scratched out a note: Gone Hunting. Back in two days.

There. Anyone could live without food and water for a couple of days. Maybe when someone finally came looking for him, Tom would be too weak to come after her. That might buy them even more time.

The sun peeked through wispy eastern clouds with brilliant streaks of red and blue promising a good day for the travelers to resume their journey. The camp was already beginning to stir as Blake returned from the creek after a cool, early-morning swim. They'd only been camped for one full day and one full night, but the pioneers had seen everything the town of Hawkins had to offer—such as it was—and most were anxious to move on, so even children were up and helping to pack up supplies.

The smells of sizzling bacon and fresh coffee wafted to his nose, and his stomach juices began to flow, demanding his full attention.

By the time he reached his fire, Sam greeted him with a tin cup filled with steaming coffee. He tossed him some jerky. Blake took it with rueful thanks and dropped down for a minute to consume his breakfast. “One of us has to learn how to cook, Sam.” Usually it didn't matter. Women were the same everywhere, and married women couldn't bear the sight of
an unfed bachelor. But on mornings such as this, when everyone was bustling about to get ready to move out, they were sometimes forgotten in the shuffle. Deer jerky had to serve as breakfast and right now he was grateful to have it.

Sam bowed his head and said a quick blessing. When they opened their eyes, Edna Cooper stood next to their fire holding two tin plates filled with bacon, eggs, and biscuits. “I thought you two might want a decent breakfast before we move out.”

“Ah,” Sam said with a grin as he accepted the proffered plate of food. “Something to truly give thanks for.”

A pretty blush tinged the young widow's cheeks and rose to her blond hairline. She handed Blake his plate. The look she gave him could only be described as waiting. Searching. Blake smiled his thanks, careful not to brush her hand as he took the food. “That was thoughtful, Mrs. Cooper. Thank you.”

“My pleasure, Mr. Tanner,” she said without a touch of coquettishness. “I couldn't let you work a long day without a proper meal.”

Blake stared at the food, at a loss whether he should respond or if it was okay to start eating. One look at the slab of bacon, and the big orange yokes on those eggs, and it was all he could do not to dig in.

Did she intend to stand there watching them eat? Awkward silence thickened the air. “Well,” Edna finally said, “I suppose I should get back and see if Miles is finished.” She gave a pleasant laugh. “I declare, that boy can eat like a grown man.”

“Thanks again, ma'am,” Sam said around a bite. “We'll bring back your plates in a few minutes.”

She nodded, cast a last lingering look at Blake, and scurried away.

“Nice lady.”

“Don't start,” Blake warned.

“Okay.”

“Any new wagons show up?”

“A couple.”

Blake's heart jumped. “Oh?”

“Not her, though.”

Shoving a bite of dripping eggs into his mouth, Blake sent him a scowl. “Her, who?”

A grin tipped his friend's lips. “The redhead.”

Sam knew him too well. He hadn't slept much, worrying about that girl. No telling what she might do. Following the train could be dangerous. Any outlaws or Indians bent on mischief would pick off a lone wagon first. Still, if they hadn't shown up yet…well, forget the disappointment he felt…maybe the girl had wised up and decided to stay put where she belonged. “You think she's in some kind of trouble?” he asked his friend.

Sam's gaze remained fixed on the campfire. His eyes narrowed in thought. “Could be.”

Condemnation squeezed Blake's heart. Dadburn it. He should have let her and her brother and sister join the train.

“Want me to go out and look for her?” Sam's tone was carefully noncommittal, but there was just enough of a knowing shift in pitch to raise Blake's ire, bringing him back to his senses.

He shoveled in the last of his bacon and shot to his feet,
still chewing. He swallowed down the bite with a swig of coffee. The fire hissed as he tossed the remains of his cup into embers. “I'm a wagon master, not a headmaster. I don't have time to look after a bunch of young'uns. We best finish breaking down camp and move out.”

He wanted to put as much distance between Hawkins and the wagon train as he could, as quickly as possible.

 

Fannie woke with a start to the nauseating combination of manure and sweet-smelling hay. The sun shone brightly through the cracks in the barn and streamed into the opening in the canvas of the wagon, where they'd spent the night. The brightness stabbed her eyelids with the familiar pain of after-beating headache. Stretching was out of the question with the pain in her sides. And her shoulder hung from her body with stubbornness, so stiff and sore that moving it nearly squeezed a cry of pain from her swollen lips. Mindful of the twins still sleeping around her, she remained silent through sheer force of will.

Voices rose from outside the wagon. A man's voice, mocking, menacing. Fannie's heart raced. Had Tom already been discovered where they'd left him, tied up and gagged on the floor of his home? She took a quick glance around the wagon. Kip was just beginning to stir, and Katie's angelic face registered deep sleep still. But Toni was gone.

She pressed closer to the canvas flap and pulled it back barely enough so that she could see what was going on outside. Toni stood face-to-face with a man Fannie recognized as Arnold, one of George's cronies and someone Tom had
complained about losing money to in more than one game of chance.

“Leave them alone, Arnold. They're just kids.” Toni's voice quaked. Fannie knew Toni had been on the receiving end of Arnold's brand of discipline at one time or another like the rest of George's girls, so she understood her fear.

Still, Fannie's emotions lifted with relief that it was Arnold and not Tom who had found them. But in the second after that thought, she knew how dangerous their situation had become. George's thug had beaten every fancy woman in town more than once and regularly tossed rambunctious drunkards out of George's tavern. Regret surged through her. She should have known better than to let Toni tag along. Tom would have been too stupid and too tied up to find them anytime soon. But Arnold…how could she have not considered Arnold?

“You sayin' you'll come back without a fight if I let Fannie and the twins go?”

Fannie held her breath.

“That's right.”

An evil chuckle filled the barn. “I don't need your bargains. Yer comin' back either way. And so are them young'uns. I bet ol' Tom'll be willin' to pay a pretty penny to get them back.”

Toni's voice shrilled as she called him a foul name.

A loud crack filled the barn as Arnold reared back and let his hand connect hard with Toni's cheek. She hit the ground before he pulled back his hand.

Fannie's own body still ached from last night's beating, but she couldn't sit by and let Toni go through the same thing.
Singed with anger, she started to reach for the flap. Giving no thought to her course of action once she came face-to-face with the thug, she could barely see through her anger. A hand on her elbow halted her. Kip pressed cold metal into her hand. Fannie's eyes widened as she looked down at the Colt. She hadn't even thought about them needing a gun.

She nodded her approval to her brother just as a rat-faced man poked his head inside the wagon. “Well, lookee what we have here.”

Fannie shoved the barrel of the pistol inches from his nose. His eyes widened. “Hey, now. What's this?”

“Get back,” Fannie said, mustering all of her courage.

“Now, you take it easy there, little gal. Do you even know how to use that thing?”

“You'd best get back, mister,” Fannie warned, relieved that her voice held steady. “Or I might have to demonstrate just how straight I can shoot by putting a bullet in your head.”

“Now, no need to be threatening.” But he backed up, obviously not willing to call her bluff.

“Toni, grab his gun from his belt.”

The saloon girl stood on shaky legs and did as she was instructed, obviously still a bit disoriented. Fresh anger washed over Fannie. Why did men just think they could beat on women all the time? “Take out his gun and keep a close eye on him. If he makes any quick moves, plug him.”

“O-okay,” Toni said.

With Toni covering Arnold, Fannie climbed from the wagon, catching her breath as a sudden sharp pain in her side nearly sent her into a swoon. She gathered herself together
and shook off the dizziness. “You two stay put,” she instructed the twins.

“Aw, Fannie. I could help,” Kip said.

Fannie hesitated, then inclined her head. As much as she hated to admit it, she really did need the boy's help. “Do we have any extra rope?”

Arnold sent up a roar of outrage. “You think I'm going to let a bunch of kids and a whore tie me up?”

Fannie swung around to face the man. He wasn't the pathetic, drunken fool Tom was. His eyes glittered cold as ice. No. This man wouldn't sit by passively while they made their escape. Besides, now that he'd seen them, he'd go back and find Tom, hours before they'd planned. All the months and months of planning would be for nothing.

“What are we going to do, Fannie?” Katie's whisper-soft voice eked out of the wagon.

The sound of her sister's fearful question brought Fannie to a quick decision. She nodded decisively. “We'll have to kill him.” She hadn't meant to speak the words aloud. But now that she had, she knew she had no choice. It was him or them. And she'd rather see him die than risk Kip and Katie going back to Tom.

“Now, just hold on a dad gum minute, little girl. You go right ahead and tie me up. I won't make no fuss.”

“Fannie”—Toni's soft voice penetrated the barn—“killing is too good for him, I understand, but if you do this, you'll be no better than he is, or George, or Tom.”

“Listen to her, Fannie,” Arnold said, his voice beginning to
tremble with fear. “You don't want to have my life on your conscience, do you?”

“You shut up,” she said, waving the gun menacingly. “You hear?” Her mind swirled with possible scenarios. And none were pretty.

The barn door swung open, revealing a hulking shadow against the sun's brilliance. “What's this?” Hank Moore stepped out of the glare, with his gun drawn, and Fannie nearly fainted, so grateful was she to see him.

“Oh, Hank.” Toni's relief was unmistakable. “Arnold is trying to take me back.”

The smithy sent a cold glare toward the henchman. “Well, I reckon we ain't gonna let that happen.”

Arnold's face turned to stone. “George ain't gonna like you helping his girl.”

Hank ignored the other man and turned to Kip. “You shouldn't have kept the team hitched all night, son. But no matter now. Pull the wagon out and get the women settled in.”

“Do as he says, Kip,” Fannie instructed. “We've likely already missed the wagon train by a good three hours. We have some time to make up.”

“What are you going to do?” Toni asked Hank. Fannie couldn't understand her worried tone. It was enough for her that the man had shown up just when they needed him. Whatever happened from here on out, at least they had a chance to get away before Arnold could make it back to Hawkins and spread the word that they'd gone.

“Now don't worry, sweetheart,” Hank said, slipping his arm around Toni's shoulders while keeping his gun fixed on Arnold with his other hand. “I'm just going to have me a little talk with Arnold here. Once we reach an understanding, I'll catch up to you and say good-bye.”

Fannie watched, deeply relieved that Hank had shown up and taken the question of what to do with Arnold out of her hands. Now all she could think of was getting away from the area before someone discovered Tom. She tugged on Toni's arm. “If you're coming with me, let's go. I'm not waiting one more second. We've lost more time than I intended by sleeping too long.”

Toni's brow puckered. “Hank?”

He nodded toward the barn door. “You go like Fannie says.”

The blacksmith's face gentled considerably as he looked at her. Fannie's breath cooled as she sucked it in. That man was in love with Toni. Well, that could only help them out. Maybe allowing the prostitute to come along would prove to be a blessing instead of a curse after all.

 

By noon, the town of Hawkins, Kansas, was largely forgotten as the travelers turned their attention westward, onward. Back to the routine of the trail. Even the six men who had tied one on at the saloon the night before seemed in good spirits, and there didn't appear to be any tension between the married men and their wives. Not that Blake would have blamed the women for being angry, but he couldn't help but be relieved not to have to mediate between feuding married
couples. Especially when his own nerves were taut as he kept one eye on the wagon train and one fixed firmly on the horizon behind the train. By now, with no sign of the little scrap of a young woman, Blake was almost sure she'd given up and would try her luck with the next wagon train, which would most likely be coming through during the next month or so.

Only the barest amount of regret pinched at him as he firmly pushed aside the image of startling ocean blue eyes and riotous red curls. Besides, after that breakfast this morning, he'd practically made up his mind to redouble his efforts in Edna's direction. True, he wasn't in love with her, but he enjoyed her conversation, when he understood what she was talking about. She read poetry and such and enjoyed discussing it with him. But he supposed a man could put up with that nonsense for a woman who could cook like Mrs. Cooper. And he needed a wife. If he didn't speak up soon, he'd lose his chance. There were ten other men in the wagon train alone on the lookout for a wife before they reached Oregon.

“Here they come.” Sam's voice broke through Blake's musings. He looked in the direction the scout pointed, and a grin tugged at his lips. All thought of Edna fled as, even across the plains, Fannie's red hair blazed like a roaring prairie fire.