Hannah Howell (27 page)

Ballard began to collect a few supplies. If his family did not return before he was ready, he would try to write a note for them.

A bellow startled Clover out of her doze. She fell forward and felt the sharp jerk of the rope around her neck. As she tried to rub her chafed neck between the thick coils of the rope, she quickly returned to an upright position against the wall.

“Damnation, Big Jim, your barn is on fire,” cried Poonley as he squinted out one of the cabin’s tiny begrimed windows.

Clover could not recall having seen anything worthy of being called a barn as she was dragged into the cabin. Poonley must be referring to the large lean-to she had briefly glimpsed. She watched the three men stagger outside, cursing each step of the way. It was evident that they had spent the evening drinking.

A familiar small figure appeared in the doorway a moment later. Clover blinked several times before she trusted what she was seeing. “Willie?”

He hurried over to the cot, hopped up onto the bed next to her, and pulled an impressively sharp knife from inside his ragged coat. Clover recognized it as the big hunting knife Ballard kept over the fireplace in their bedroom. An intent look came over his face as he sawed away at the rope leading from her neck.

“You be real still, ma’am,” he said. “I might cut you if you move too sudden-like.”

“How did you get here?”

“I followed you.”

“But, Willie, we must be miles from Ballard’s house.”

“Ten miles as I figure it. I woulda helped you sooner, but I needed to take a rest once I got here.”

“I am not surprised,” she murmured. “You are obviously a great deal stronger than you look.”

“They ain’t hurt you yet, have they? I fear I was just too weary to think on what they might be doing to you while I was having a rest. Then I had to think of a plan to get them outta this cabin.”

She stared at him in admiration. “You set the barn on fire.”

“That ain’t no barn. Just a rickety bunch of sticks and branches. I let the animals out first. They ain’t done nobody no harm.” He finished cutting through the rope and put his knife away. “We best hurry outta here, ma’am. That shed was burning up fast. Those drunken fools ain’t gonna waste much time trying to save it, especially when they figure that the animals ain’t in it.”

Clover stood up, swaying slightly. As Willie grabbed her hand, she took several deep breaths to steady herself. She refused to let her weakness ruin her one chance to escape.

“Do you know how to get back to Ballard’s?” she asked as they hurried to the door.

“Yup. I can take us straight there or, if these fools try hunting us down, I can get us there by a real crooked route.” He glanced at Clover’s skirts. “I reckon it ain’t something ladies oughta do, but could
you hook them skirts up, ma’am? ‘Twill make it a sight easier for us to run through the woods.”

Although she found it a little odd to be taking orders from a child, Clover did as she was told. She brought the back of her skirts through her legs and hooked it under the waistband. Clover just prayed she was not putting too much faith in a boy’s bravado.

Willie peered out the door. “Them fools be standing there with their backs to us just gawking at the fire. Come on, ma’am. We gotta run as fast as we can into the forest. We can slow down a mite sometime later if we make it into them trees without them seeing us.”

He bolted out the door and Clover followed. His speed astounded her. If Morrisey would treat the boy with just a little kindness, he would have a strong worker.

As they ran she waited tensely for a bellow to indicate that they had been spotted and the pursuit had begun, but none came. Even once they reached the shelter of the trees, Willie kept running and she tried her best to keep up. By the time he slowed up a little, Clover was gasping for breath and feeling weak in the knees.

“I think I need a moment or two to catch my breath,” she called as she sagged against a tree trunk.

“I reckon you can, but only for a minute or two,” he said as he walked back to her and sat down. “Once we get to the house, ma’am, I gotta be getting home.”

“You should rest first.”

“I shoulda been back home to milk the cows. If luck be with me, it will be dark by the time I get home and I can sneak in. Morrisey has usually got his fat
head stuck in a bottle of homebrew by sunset. If he don’t see me, he don’t hit me, and come the morning he might forget he was a-wanting to.”

“Perhaps if I went with you and explained—”

“That ain’t gonna do no good. I know how to take care of myself, ma’am, and now I know where to get something to eat.” He grinned at her, then stood up and brushed himself off. “Best we be going now, ma’am. We can run easy for a ways. Leastwise till we hear those fools coming after us.”

Clover straightened up and followed him as he led her deeper into the forest. “Are there many wild animals here?”

“Some, but most of them ain’t of a mind to get near us. If one does come sniffing ‘round, we just have to scramble up the nearest tree and wait him out. Can you climb trees, ma’am?”

“I climbed one not long ago. A bear convinced me to try my hand at it.”

He nodded. “I reckon climbing trees ain’t something ladies are supposed to do.”

“No. After all, it might allow a gentleman to peek up your skirts.” She smiled when he giggled. “Willie, if Big Jim and his men get too close, I want you to take care of yourself and not worry about me.”

“But I came to save you.”

“And you might yet succeed. You will do me a greater service by not allowing yourself to get captured if Big Jim starts to run us down. If you remain free, you can tell Ballard what has happened, who has me, and where I am.”

Willie nodded. “That be sound thinking, ma’am.”

“Thank you.” She exchanged another brief grin
with him, then tensed when he went still, listening. “Big Jim?”

“Reckon so. Come on, ma’am. Time for us to be taking that crooked trail.”

As they ran, Clover heard, and occasionally caught sight of, Big Jim and his two men searching for them. The trees and thick underbrush impeded the men’s progress, for they were inebriated and on horseback. Slowly dusk settled over the forest. It became harder and harder to follow Willie’s twisting journey through the wood. She knew the lengthening shadows aided their escape, however, and struggled to keep pace with the boy. Some time later, badly winded, she stumbled over a root and landed hard on her backside, the breath knocked out of her.

“You all right, ma’am?” Willie asked as he crouched by her and helped her up.

“I will be in a moment. Do you think I can take a small rest again? I do not hear Big Jim.”

Willie sat down next to her. “Reckon he ain’t wanting to get too much closer to your man’s land. It ain’t fully dark yet and if Big Jim rides after us much further, he could get himself seen by MacGregor.”

“Are we that close?” Clover could not believe they had covered so much ground. “I do not see the house.”

“Too many trees. We ain’t
that
close, but close enough so Big Jim might stumble into the open if he keeps after us.”

“Oh, thank God. I feared I was slowing you down and putting us both at risk.”

“You ain’t done too bad, ma’am. Fact is, you kept up real good. I reckon ladies don’t do much running through the woods.”

Clover smiled and shook her head. “None at all.” She struggled to her feet. “Well, if we are that close to home, let us continue. I can rest when I get there.”

“You got spine, ma’am, you surely do,” Willie said as he led the way.

“Thank you—I think.”

The trees thinned, and at last Ballard’s house came into view. Clover wished she had enough energy left to run. She hoped Ballard was home. He might be able to catch up with Big Jim and put an end to their troubles before they got any worse.

“It just ain’t smart to go any closer,” Poonley said, shaking his head when Big Jim let out a stream of curses. “Fact is, I think we be close enough to Mac-Gregor’s place that you ought to be thinking on being a mite quieter.”

“We had her, curse it all to hell! How the hell did the demmed bitch get loose?” Big Jim tried to turn his panting horse and slapped it on the head when it failed to move quickly enough to suit him.

“I reckon someone cut her loose,” Poonley said, and nodded.

“Think it was MacGregor?” asked the other man.

“You just ain’t got no brain in that head, do you, Toombs,” snapped Big Jim. “If MacGregor had come after us, he would never have left us standing there scratching our arses. Whoever helped her just cut her loose and ran.”

“I reckon Dillingsworth ain’t gonna care much how she got away, just that we ain’t got her no more,” said Poonley.

Big Jim cursed again and headed his horse back
to his cabin, Poonley and Toombs falling in behind him. “And since we ain’t got her no more, Dillingsworth ain’t gonna give us our money. Well, if he thinks he’s so blasted clever, he can just come up with a new plan. We got her once. We can get her again.”

As Clover ran across the clearing to Ballard’s house, she briefly considered falling to her knees and giving thanks. The horse tied up in front told her that someone had returned home. She prayed it was Ballard. She wanted to tell him about her ordeal first, without the others clamoring for answers. She would let him know exactly what threat they faced. And then she would go to bed.

“Are you sure you will not stay, Willie?” she asked the boy as she opened the door.

“No more’n a minute or two, just to be sure MacGregor knows where to look for that scum.”

As Clover stepped into the house, she nearly walked into Ballard, who was on his way out. He stood with a small sack in one hand and his musket in the other, and he had never looked so good to her.

As the realization that she was indeed safe at home at last struck her full force, one thing became blindingly clear. She loved the big man standing before her, staring at her as if she were a specter risen from the grave.

When he did not immediately drop everything and take her into his arms, her heart broke. She desperately wanted a hug, wanted to sink into his embrace, safe again. Instead, Ballard remained as if turned to stone.

“Ballard,” she said, and reached up to touch his arm, grimacing when she saw how filthy her hand was. “I have had a rather distressing afternoon.”

“Oh? A distressing afternoon, was it?”

He almost laughed, then wondered why. It really was the last thing he felt like doing. His insides were twisted with conflicting emotions. He was overjoyed that she was safe back home, yet devastated because again, she had been forced to take care of herself. Her presence seemed glaring proof that he could not protect her. He had dragged her from the safety of her tidy brick home in Langleyville to the wilds of Kentucky and plunged her into one trouble after another.

She looked terrible. Her dress was torn, stained, and bundled up above her knees. Her stockings were shredded and stuck with leaves and small twigs. Her hair hung down her back in a thick, tangled mass.

Finally he noticed the boy.

“What are ye doing here, laddie?” he asked, then wondered why he was talking to the boy when his recently kidnapped wife was standing there looking as if she had been dragged through the brambles backward and would dearly love to collapse onto something soft.

“I done brought your missus back to you,” Willie answered.

Ballard looked at Clover again. “Who did it?”

“Big Jim and his cohorts. They dragged me right out of my kitchen.”

“Why did they take you?” He ached to pull her into his arms and hold her close until he was completely reassured that she was safe, but he felt he had no right to offer such comfort.

“To give me to Thomas and to draw you into a trap.” She sank into a chair by the fireplace. It was clear that Ballard was not going to give her the exuberant, loving welcome she craved. Suddenly she was exhausted.

“And ye followed her?” he asked Willie as he put his bag down by the fireplace and replaced the musket on the rack over it.

“I did,” Willie replied. “Got her free of them bastards too.”

Clover told Willie, “You must not use such bad language, and I thought you were in a hurry to get home.”

“I be due for a beating no matter when I get home. I wanna stay for a while and be sure MacGregor knows everything he needs to so’s he can make that scum pay good and proper for what they done.”

“So Willie helped ye get free and ye made your way back here?” Ballard was dismayed that a small, barefoot boy had offered the protection he had failed to provide.

“More like she done
run
back,” said Willie. “Nearly got caught a time or two, but we proved too quick for them.”

Ballard sat down opposite Clover, unable to take his eyes off her. She was safe but through no help from him. He saw no condemnation in her tired eyes, but he was sure there was a hint of disappointment in them. He painfully accepted it as well-deserved.

“Perhaps, between the two of ye, ye can tell me all that happened.”

Clover carefully related everything that had occurred from the moment Big Jim had burst into the kitchen. Willie added his own colorful details from time to time. All the while she wondered why Ballard looked sad, hurt, and a little angry. Anger she could understand, but not the others. And she had the strangest feeling that the anger was not directed at her kidnappers.

Ballard shook his head when they were done. “I never thought Thomas would pursue us here. Aye, I could see his madness, but I truly thought that, once we were in Kentucky, he would direct that madness elsewhere.”

“Out of sight, out of mind,” Clover murmured.

“Something like that. ‘Tis my shortsightedness that has put your life in danger.”

“What nonsense. No one can anticipate the actions of a madman.”

“I left ye here alone, didnae I? Despite Big Jim’s threats. That was a mistake. I shallnae make it again.”

“Do you think someone’ll be trying to grab her again?” asked Willie.

“They were mad enough to try it once. Aye, they might well try it again. I cannae ignore that possibility just because I see no sense in it.”