Frontier Gift of Love (American Wilderness Series Romance Book 5) (13 page)

“There, that stand of pines.” Sam pointed to the woods on the other side of the meadow and then slowed his horse to a stop. He turned Alex around to face his men. “Bear and I will ride ahead on the trail that Little John and I normally take. Harry, I want you to take the southern end of that copse of trees. James, you take the middle. And Mathew, you cover the northern end. If any of you find him, fire one shot into the air. And be listening for Garvin’s weapon too. I told him to do the same if Little John comes home. If Garvin fires two shots, that means Catherine needs me.”

“Understood, Captain,” James said.

“Anything could have happened to him—from a fall to a wild animal. But Bear and I think there is a strong possibility that those men from this morning kidnapped Little John to force me to sign over my New Hampshire land. So be careful and keep an eye out for Dixon and Crowell too. Hopefully, my son is just lost. Keep calling his name and scanning the forest. He’s wearing his brown coat and a red shirt,” Sam said. “When you get into the woods, light your torches. Now, help me bring my boy home.”

“Yes, Sir,” the three men said before they took off in their respective directions.

As soon as his men left, Sam dismounted and lit his torch with his flint. “With the sky full of clouds, there’s not enough moon to let us see anything. Hopefully this torch will help.”

“Perhaps I can spot a print in a patch of snow,” Bear said. “Is Little John riding Dan?”

“No, he’s on foot,” Sam answered. He wished the boy was riding the horse Little John named after Daniel Boone. At least then his feet wouldn’t freeze.

The two started out leading their horses and calling Little John’s name repeatedly.

Bear followed closely, a horse length or two behind him for a long while, before his brother finally spoke. “Sam, come back here. Look, I think that’s his wee boot print there in the snow. And here’s another.”

Sam whirled around, and hurriedly tied Alex to a nearby bush. Rushing toward Bear, he spotted a boot print too. “Here’s another. From the length between, I’d say he was running.”

“Agreed,” Bear said. “But from what?”

He looked into Bear’s eyes and saw the same worry and urgency that filled him. If something or someone was chasing Little John, he could be hurt. If he was injured, they had to find him soon or he would freeze to death in this weather. As if in warning, he felt a snowflake on his face, then another, and another. Both men scowled as they peered up and then grimaced when the wind began to whine.

“Tie your horse Bear and help me find more tracks,” Sam said. “We’ve got to hurry.”

The two proceeded on foot, and every now and then found a boot print in the snow. Finally, the prints stopped and the hoof prints of two horses were clearly visible.

“It looks as though Little John turned in a circle several times,” Sam said, his fingers probing the boot prints. “He must have been looking for a way to get past the two.”

“I bet ‘tis the two blackhearts that wanted yer land!” Bear growled.

He prayed it wasn’t so, but somehow he knew it was. A sudden chill filled Sam that had nothing at all to do with the snow coming down. “Those bastards!” He spat the words out, seething with fury.

The two men, particularly Dixon, did seem overly anxious to get Sam to sell. It was more than the thousand miles they’d traveled to find him. There had to be another reason. What could make them so determined and brash? Kidnapping a child, particularly from a man with four hired hands, was a heinous and desperate act.

Bear scowled and his nostrils flared with fury. “I’ll sever their heads from their worthless bodies if they harm a hair on the wee lad’s head.”

“They think to exchange the deed for Little John’s life,” Sam snarled. “But we’ll see that they lose their lives instead.”

“What kind of a devil’s spawn would use a wee boy like that?”

“The kind we’re going to find.” Through clenched teeth, Sam ripped out each word. He fired one of his flintlocks into the air, releasing some of his pent up anger and recalling his men. “Get our horses,” he told Bear. “I’ll follow the tracks of these two horses before the snow covers them up!”

Bear spun around and jogged toward the horses.

Carrying the torch, Sam took off on foot, moving as swiftly as he could without losing sight of the tracks. Their prints led through the trees in a northerly direction. Where were the two bastards taking Little John? He looked up when Mathew rode up from the right. “We found Little John’s boot print, and then those of two horses. I’m following those. Bear went back for my horse,” he told his man.

Carrying his own torch, Mathew peered down. “There, I see the hoof prints now.” He stepped his horse a few yards ahead of the tracks. “Look,
they lead in that direction. Want me to follow them?”

“Yes! We’ve got to hurry before the snow conceals them forever.”

Mathew took off at once, his eyes trained on the ground.

Sam turned behind him. Bear and the two other men were hurrying his way. The rage within him grew by the minute. He whirled around again to see where Mathew was. He could just make out a spot of light in the darkness. He turned back to face the approaching men. “Hurry!” he shouted.

Bear loped up and tossed him Alex’s reins.

Sam leapt onto the gelding and booted the horse’s sides. “Let’s go!”

Within a few moments, they’d caught up to Mathew.

“I’ll track from here,” Bear said. He grabbed the torch from Mathew and took off.

Bear was a superb tracker and his night vision was exceptional so Sam let his brother take the lead following the trail.

“Keep your eyes open,” he told the others. “Two men have my boy and I mean to find them.”

The five rode quietly, not knowing what they might come upon. Other than the sound of their horse’s movements, the only other noise came from the wind, now laden with snow. With every minute, the flakes multiplied, becoming heavier and wetter, and the air grew colder. Soon, the wind grew stronger and the torches went out.

“Damn, of all times for a blizzard,” Sam yelled over the battering gusts of wind. Furious and frustrated, his breaths grew rapid and ragged.

Thankfully, Bear trudged on, despite the conditions. How his brother could see anything in this near blizzard was beyond Sam. Snow now coated Bear’s broad back, as his brother leaned down to view the ground as best he could.

“Captain, perhaps we should spread out again,” James suggested.

“No, we run the risk of getting lost ourselves in these conditions. Just let Bear keep trying.”

For what seemed like an hour, but was probably less than half that, they kept on, until Bear abruptly stopped and sat up straight. All the snow that had accumulated on his back dropped across the hips of Bear’s horse.

His brother turned around and faced him, his square jaw visibly tensed. Bear’s face, reddened by the temperature and wind, grew grim as he told Sam what he already knew.

“That’s the end. Na more trackin’ tonight.”

“Bloody hell!” Sam replied, his chin thrust forward.

He would
not
give up.

Two rifle shots rang out behind them, faint but distinct.

Chapter 12

S
am could only whisper the ominous words. “Two shots.”

His mind raced. He had to go back. But Little John needed him and the thought of abandoning the search caused a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“That means Mrs. Wyllie needs you,” Mathew said.

“I know what it means,” Sam growled, under his breath
. It meant something is wrong. A warning
.

Should he ask Bear and his men to continue searching? If they got lost in this storm, the results could be disastrous. Since Bear had lived and hunted here for a year, he was familiar with the terrain, but none of them knew the area as well as Sam did.

“Brother!”

Bear’s voice drew Sam from his agonizing thoughts and he looked up.

“We can na track any further tonight. The conditions are worsenin’ by the minute. Let’s go back, we’ll start out again in the morn, at first light,” Bear said.

“I don’t want my son spending the night with those two bastards!” he swore. He didn’t want to even give voice to his most troublesome worry, that Dixon and Crowell might kill Little John.

“They will na harm Little John. If they want to get ye to sign, they have to keep him alive,” Bear said. “And I doubt they would hurt him and unleash yer wrath again. They’ve already seen it once.”

“Let’s go!” He urged Alex to move as swiftly as the horse could in this blizzard, which wasn’t nearly as fast as he wished. But they weren’t too far away from home. They would be there soon.
God, please, keep Catherine safe
. What could have happened? If they needed the midwife, how would they get her in this weather?

As soon as they arrived, Sam leapt from his horse. Bear did the same. He didn’t see Garvin anywhere, but a gray horse stood tied outside. “Dixon’s,” he snarled. “Tie your horses and then wait here under the porch,” Sam told his men. “But stay away from the window.”

They drew their weapons—Sam his long knife and Bear his hatchet. He threw open the door. Bear followed and hurriedly shut it against the snowstorm.

At the sight before them, Sam stiffened.

Dixon sat calmly in Sam’s chair, until he caught sight of Bear. Taking in Bear’s intimidating presence, he sat up straighter and placed a hand on his pistol.

Sam glanced over at Catherine, fearful that this might all be too much for her in her condition. But she stood beside Artis, tall and dignified, a pistol in her hand. She appeared unharmed, although her eyes blazed with fury.

Marching over to Dixon, Sam glared daggers down at the man. “What the hell is going on here? Do you have my son?” He swiftly touched the tip of his knife to Dixon’s throat.

At the touch of Sam’s long blade, the man swallowed. But even with multiple weapons pointed at him, a self-satisfied smirk still covered Dixon’s face. His greasy skin glistened in the light of the hearth fire. “I do have your son, Captain. But you and your wife will get him back soon enough.”

Artis’ hair appeared disheveled and she clutched a dirk in her hand. One of her arms lay protectively across Catherine’s belly. “This bastard would only speak with ye, Sam,” Artis said, her voice hot and her face flushed.

“He won’t tell me where Little John is,” Catherine told him. “I begged him to tell me, but he refused!”

Sam could see her struggling to be strong, yet her voice nearly broke.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Wyllie,” Garvin said, the pistol held in his hand still pointing at Dixon. “He asked to speak to you or Mrs. Wyllie about Little John. He said it was a matter of life or death, so I checked with Mrs. Wyllie and she wanted to speak with him. After she and Mrs. MacKay both held their weapons, I let him in. Then I went outside and fired the two shots to recall you and the others.”

“You did fine, Garvin,” Sam said. He needed to keep his emotions under control. Little John’s life now depended on it. It was time for him to think like a soldier again. Time to assess the situation and find out what motivated his enemy. He gave Dixon a hard look and made his voice threatening, “Where is my son, you bastard, and why did you take him?”

“My partner has the boy in a secure location. He’ll be returned to you just as soon as you cooperate,” Dixon said in a smooth voice.

“And just how is my brother to cooperate?” Bear demanded, stomping toward Dixon. “And get out of the Captain’s chair!”

Dixon didn’t move.

Bear reached down with his free hand, grabbed a fistful of Dixon’s waistcoat, and threw him against the hearth. “I asked ye to move yer arse,” Bear hissed into the man’s face.

“Let’s be civilized about this,” Dixon said, putting both palms up before Bear could hit him.

“Ye take my nephew and then talk to me about being civilized!” Bear roared and then punched Dixon in his stomach.

Bear delivered the blow with so much force, the man bent double, then struggled for a breath as he slowly straightened.

“Hold on. There’s no…need to…resort to violence,” Dixon gasped, holding his belly. He took a few deep breaths and looked intently at Sam. “In fact, if I’m harmed, you will never see that annoying little brat again. I’ve instructed my partner to kill him if I’m not back by noon tomorrow. He’ll be keeping a watch out for us and if I appear harmed, he’s to slit the boy’s throat and shoot you from a distance, Captain.”

That did it. Sam pushed Bear aside and slammed his fist into Dixon’s jaw like a sudden bolt of lightning. When Dixon straightened, he pulled his knife and with a deadly glare growled, “Another threat like that and it’s
your
throat that will get slit, with this!” He pressed his blade against Dixon’s quivering Adam’s apple.

Dixon winced and a trickle of blood dripped onto the man’s dirty cravat.

“Have you harmed my son in any way?” he snarled through clenched teeth.

“No, no,” Dixon quickly blurted. “He’s perfectly fine, aside from having to tie the little spitfire’s hands and feet to keep him from kicking and punching us.”

Sam scrutinized the man’s eyes to be certain he spoke the truth. He always measured truth by a man’s eyes not his words. So Little John hadn’t made it easy on the two men. That didn’t surprise him. He removed his knife from the kidnapper’s throat and took a slow step back, continuing to glare at Dixon. “Bear, inform the other three men that we’ll see them in the morning, but tell them to be prepared to ride out early. For now, they need to get to their quarters in the barn.” Sam pointed with his knife. Instead of pointing in the direction of the barn, he pointed to the rear of the house. Hopefully, Bear would understand his meaning.

“No, your men can’t come with you in the morning. Just you, Captain,” Dixon said, placing a handkerchief against the bleeding nick on his throat.

With deceptive calm, Sam told Bear, “Just tell the men what I said.”

Bear turned and went out onto the porch for a moment. The tension in the room became palatable and only increased when Bear came back in, snarling like a real cornered bear. “Do ye want me to start breaking his fingers, Captain? I bet we’d know where Little John is by the time I got to his second hand.”