Hannah Howell (26 page)

“I would like that real fine, ma’am.”

Clover noticed the boy was now playing with his food and peeking at her through his surprisingly long black lashes. It was clear that he had something on his mind, but was reluctant to speak.

“You want to ask me something, am I right?” He nodded. “Just ask me, Willie. The worst that can happen is that I will have no answer or will say no.”

Willie nodded, took a deep breath, and asked, “Will you teach me what you be teaching the MacGregors?”

“You mean how to read and write?”

“And figure and act proper and speak good like
you do. See, I figure I will get free of Morrisey someday, but he ain’t raising me to be any more than a big dumb brute like him. Now, I know being half-Shawnee’s gonna be trouble, but maybe if I got me some learning and fine manners I could still be more than dirt-poor. I ain’t gonna get nowhere if I be nothing but a half-breed what acts and thinks like Morrisey.”

“I will be pleased to teach you anything you want to know. What would you like to try first?”

“Well, I reckon I best learn my letters.”

“We can start that now. Are you finished eating?” He nodded and she started to clear the table. “Upstairs in the third bedroom on your right you will find a slate and chalk on the table by the bed. Bring them down and we can get started.” She smiled and shook her head as he bounded up the stairs.

Clover was just wiping off the table when the kitchen door slammed open. She screeched, whirled around, and came face to face with Big Jim, a wide leer on his face. Two of his disreputable friends blocked the door behind him.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“Why, sweet thing, I done come to take you to your man,” Big Jim answered.

“Ballard would never send you after me.”

“Not that bastard. Your fine, pretty man from back home. Come along now, he be waiting on you.”

She tried to run but he reached for her, grabbed her, and tossed her over his shoulder. Her struggles had no effect on him as he carried her out the door. Through the curtain of her tousled hair she caught a glimpse of Willie and prayed the boy would have the sense to go alert Ballard and the others.

Big Jim tossed her across his saddle, and before she could scramble free, one of his cohorts bound her wrists and stuffed a filthy gag in her mouth. She felt someone tightly bind her ankles and knew she could not escape now. Big Jim mounted up behind her and, to her disgust, rested his beefy hand on her backside as he rode. She tried to see where they were going, but her hair obscured her vision. All she could do was try not to be sick to her stomach and pray that Ballard would find her before it was too late.

Clover could not restrain a groan as she was dragged off the horse. Her whole body ached and she was nauseated and dizzy. Big Jim picked her up and carried her under one arm like a sack of grain, took her inside a foul-smelling cabin, and roughly tossed her onto a filthy cot.

It took her several moments to recover from her ordeal. She cautiously opened her eyes and looked around. She could hear the men talking just outside the door. She grimaced as she studied the cabin; the place was little more than a hovel. If she was not rescued soon, she could contract some very unpleasant, if not fatal, disease here.

Big Jim entered the cabin, strode over to her, and yanked off the gag. “So you are awake, huh?”

“Might I ask what you think you are doing?” she snapped.

He untied her wrists and ankles. Before she could massage some feeling back into her feet and hands, he looped a thick rope snugly around her neck several times. For a brief moment she was terrified, certain that he meant to strangle her. She struggled to
calm her fears when he stood on the cot and tied the other end of the rope to a hook in the ceiling. Even if she stood on the bed, she would never be able to reach the knot. The rope around her neck was wrapped too tightly for her to try to work it off over her head. If she tried to move too far or too fast, she could easily hang herself. She was trapped.

Clover wished she had regained the feeling in her hands and feet so that she could inflict some hurt on Big Jim before he stepped out of reach.

“There, that ought to hold you.” He jumped off the bed and grinned at her. “You can just sit there and think on what’s to come.”

“And what
is
to come? Is there some reason for this madness, or have you just completely lost what little mind you have?” She gritted her teeth against a hiss of pain as her hands and feet tingled painfully back to life.

Big Jim’s two friends, who had entered the cabin in time to hear her tart remark, chuckled. “Shut up, Poonley. You too, Toombs,” Big Jim snarled at them. “Has Ben gone?”

“Yup,” answered the shorter of the two men. “He and that feller ought to be here before nightfall.”

“And then the fun begins.” Big Jim poked Clover in the ribs. “You and us are gonna have a fine old time, and that big dumb Scot ain’t gonna be around to help you this time.”

“I thought we was supposed to tell MacGregor we got her,” said the short man.

“Shut your mouth, Poonley. We’ll be telling that fool when we feel demmed good and ready.” Big Jim reached out to stroke Clover’s hair. She jerked away from his touch. “You ain’t gonna be so demmed high
and mighty soon,” he said. “Once that feller what’s paying us gets here, we’ll work that haughtiness right outta you.”

“Ballard will make you pay dearly for this,” Clover warned. “He will hunt you down.”

“That be just what we want him to do. You are the bait in a trap, woman. You will bring that bastard right to our door, and this time we will have the advantage. He ain’t gonna be so tall and cocky when we get done with him. Not so pretty either. I aim to enjoy taking him down a peg or two, and I know our new friend will too. He be right eager to see you too.”

“And who is this new friend of yours?” she asked, a cold knot forming in her stomach.

“That fancy man of yours from back in Pennsylvania. Me and him met in a tavern in Langleyville and found out we had a lot in common. We both owe your man.”

“Thomas Dillingsworth is in Kentucky? I find that very hard to believe.”

“I ain’t no liar!” Big Jim yelled, and shook his fist at her.

“You ain’t supposed to touch her till Dillingsworth gets here,” Poonley reminded him. “That man was real firm about that.”

“All right. Ain’t no need to ride me so close, Poonley.” Big Jim glared at Clover, then moved to the table where the other two men were sitting. “You hear me, woman? That fancy man of yours is on our side now. Hell, he be paying us good money. Now, you be a cute little thing and I be looking forward to having my turn at you, but truth to tell, I ain’t sure
why that man be going to so much trouble to get his hands on you.”

“Do not look to me to end your confusion. I have never understood madmen.” Clover edged along the bed until she was able to rest her back against the rough log wall.

“You saying that Dillingsworth ain’t right in the head?” Big Jim demanded as he poured some homebrew into a battered cup.

“Does his behavior seem to be that of a sane man to you?”

Big Jim shrugged. “The man hankers after you so he takes you.” His companions nodded in agreement.

“You are a master of simplicity, Mr. Wallis.” She watched him frown and eye her narrowly, not certain if he was being insulted. “I believe what you are planning is a hanging offense,” she warned, “and I do not believe that a completely sane man plans to do something that will get him hanged.”

“They gotta prove we did it before they can try and hang us, and there ain’t gonna be anyone left to say that it was us.”

Clover slumped against the wall and closed her eyes. She knew of only one witness Big Jim and his cohorts did not know about—Willie. Although it was hard to say if anyone would believe the boy, even if he was able to tell what he saw.

She was tired and afraid, and she could see no way from the trap she was in, or from the trap she had inadvertently helped them set for Ballard. He would do exactly what he was told in the vain hope that he could save her. If there was no safe way to bring help, he would come alone. He would be one man against five. Formidable odds.

“That’s it, woman. You get some sleep. We want you well-rested when our friend gets here ‘cause we’ll be keeping you real busy.”

As she listened to their crude guffaws, Clover wished she had Mabel’s ability to spit. It seemed the perfect response to their taunts. A night of pure horror, perhaps many nights of such horror, was being planned for her, and they laughed. Anger twisted her roiling stomach, but she was too tired to act on it. Besides, railing at her thickheaded captors would gain her nothing. It seemed strange to go to sleep when she was in such danger, but sleep would at least clear her head and give her a respite from her fear and worry. It would also give her the strength to get away if, by some miracle, a chance for escape presented itself.

Thomas sipped from a tankard of ale and stared at the man called Ben. He was a hulking, filthy brute, and Thomas was a little embarrassed to be seen with him. He needed a strong man whom he could easily control, however. Besides, he doubted he would meet anyone he knew in the dirty little inn, the only one in this squalid town a few miles south of Pottersville.

“Why are you staying here?” grumbled Ben as he scratched his straggly gray beard. “Coulda set yourself closer.”

“I am here because I would rather not alert Ballard MacGregor to my presence.” Thomas glanced around the small, dark common room of the inn with ill-disguised disdain. “‘Tis a poor place for a man of
my stature, but I suspect Pottersville is an even more wretched place.”

“It ain’t a bad town.” Ben took a long swallow of ale and wiped his mouth on the stained sleeve of his buckskin coat. “We got the girl. Did just what you told us to and it worked real good. We got her trussed up back at Big Jim’s place.”

“Ye-es. I wish I had taken the time to find someplace other than that flea-infested hovel to hold her in.” Thomas finished off his ale and stood up. “Shall we go?” He started out of the inn.

Ben cursed, gulped down the rest of his ale, and hurried after Thomas. “Ain’t no need to hurry. She ain’t going nowheres.”

“True, but MacGregor may stumble upon his loose mare sooner than we planned. I do not want him to know what has happened to Clover until I choose to tell him.”

“Are you sure MacGregor will do just what you tell him to do? He ain’t never struck me as the sort of man to just walk into a trap, like a lamb to the slaughter. He be a fighting man and a good one too.”

“I have his little wife. He will do exactly what I tell him.” Thomas ran a finger down his crooked nose. “I have that bastard now and he will soon be wishing he never set foot in Langleyville.”

Ballard frowned as he rode up to his house. He had felt uneasy for an hour or more, unable to shake the conviction that something was dreadfully wrong. Finally he had ordered the others to continue their search for the mare and had spurred his horse into a
gallop for home. He dismounted and leaped up the steps, into the house.

“Clover!” he bellowed and grew even more concerned when there was no answer.

Fighting his burgeoning panic, he bounded up the staircase. He searched every room twice, then ran back downstairs and inspected the rooms again to be sure she had not fallen asleep somewhere, which he had caught her doing a time or two. As he went back outside to check the outer buildings, he began to move faster. Soon he was running from place to place. His calls for Clover grew more frantic. Back inside the house, he slumped against the kitchen table and tried to gather his wits.

Suddenly he noticed that the outside kitchen door was wide open. He was certain he had not opened it and moved to take a closer look. When he saw the splintered door frame and broken latch, he realized someone had forced his way into the house and taken Clover. He was sure of it.

Cursing, he took his musket down from over the fireplace and loaded it. What was he to do? He did not know who had taken Clover, although he had a strong suspicion, and he did not know where they had gone. He was alone with no idea of how many men he would face if he did find her. Without some answers to his questions, it would be foolhardy to plan his next move.

He sank into the heavy rocker in front of the fireplace and tried to think. Big Jim and Thomas had to be behind Clover’s disappearance. Ballard could almost hear Big Jim’s threats at the spring revel. He thoroughly berated himself for not taking those threats more seriously. Instead of keeping close to
Clover, instead of guarding and protecting her, he had run off to find his mare, leaving her completely alone and defenseless. Yet again he had failed to protect her from danger,

Muskrat rubbed against his legs and he scratched the animal’s battle-scarred ears. “I failed her, Muskrat. It seems I am always failing her.”

The cat stretched up on his hind legs, placed his big front paws on Ballard’s knees, and hoarsely meowed. Ballard recalled how he was always catching Clover slipping the big tomcat treats and shook his head. The cat had begun to leave his catches at the kitchen door to impress her. Several times Ballard had come home to find a dead mouse or other small creature covered by a linen napkin, awaiting the proper burial that Clover insisted upon.

“I cannae just sit here and moon over her, Muskrat.” Ballard gently pushed the cat away and stood up. “There must be something I can do. Maybe there is a trail I can follow,” he muttered as he walked to the door, Muskrat ambling behind him.

Outside, he found the hoofprints of several horses. No effort had been made to hide their trail. Clover’s abductors had known he would not be there. They led around the house and into the forest. Ballard was puzzled by the small human footprints that blended with the other prints and disappeared into the forest. Someone was already following Clover and her abductors. A small someone. Since Damien and Clayton were still with Shelton, Lambert, and Adam, Ballard had no idea who that small someone could be.

He stared into the woods for a long moment before returning to the house. He was going to
follow that trail. It was probably not the safest or wisest thing to do, but he could not just sit and wait for some word from her kidnappers.