A Love Restored

by Goshorn, Kelly;

  Benjamin flipped the chamber closed and leaned the rifle against the wagon wheel. “Inside? That must be Captain Reynolds. You got an extra weapon?”

  Edward reached inside his coat, retrieved a small revolver, and offered it to Benjamin. “It’s loaded.”

  He gripped the handle, moaning as he shoved the weapon in his rear waistband. “Give me cover.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Through the back door.”

  Edward took another shot. “Are you crazy?”

  “Yeah, about a certain stubborn brunette.”

  Edward crouched behind the wagon bed. “You could get yourself killed, and you don’t even know if Ruth Ann’s in there.”

  “There’s a good chance the captain kept her close-by, and I have to know she’s safe.”

  Armed riders from town galloped into the fray. “Reinforcements. This is my chance.”

  Grunting, Benjamin hopped over the wagon’s tongue. Still clutching his ribs, he trudged toward the schoolhouse moving slower than anticipated. Each step laborious, as if shackled to a cannon ball. A bullet whizzed by his left ear. He ducked for the slight protection afforded by a large tree. Bracing himself against its thick trunk, he raised his rifle. When had it gotten so heavy? He aimed at the masked rider and fired a couple rounds. The man set his sights on Benjamin and returned the volley. Benjamin took a deep breath and aimed again, this time finding his mark. The vigilante fell from his horse, his foot tangled in the stirrup. His horse bucked then lurched forward, dragging his rider away from the maelstrom.

  The schoolhouse now stood only a few feet away. Benjamin surged forward, praying Ruthie had escaped with the other women. Tripping over a tree root, his body hit the frozen ground with a thud, jarring the rifle from his grip. Propelled by his feet, he thrust himself forward, blindly searching for his weapon. Agonizing pain rippled through his bruised and broken ribs with each stretch of his arm. Maybe he should just let it go. He needed to get inside, and he still had Edward’s revolver.

  Clamping his eyes shut, he shoved himself off the ground. Hands resting on his knees, he gasped for breath, wincing as his lungs labored.

  Breaking glass drew his attention to the schoolhouse.

  Orange light flickered inside.

  Where was Ruthie?

  ~*~

  Ruth Ann unfolded her limbs and crawled from beneath the desk. She peered into the classroom. Books and papers strewn on the floor shriveled beneath a kerosene soaked torch. Stuffing the knife in her skirt pocket, she sprang to her feet. She grabbed the water bucket beneath the chalkboard and doused the fire.

  A second flaming torch burst inside the schoolhouse. She shrieked as shards of glass pricked her cheeks. She inspected her face. Blood stained her fingertips.

  Abandoned coats caught fire.

  She glanced at the bucket. Empty.

  Fire leapt from coats to books and back again like children playing hopscotch in the schoolyard. Her heart thundered in her throat, leaving her breathless and confused. Her gaze hastened to the barricaded door. Should she leave or stay as the captain directed? What fate awaited her out there? If she stayed, what could she use to put out the flames? She needed to make a decision and commit herself to it. Her gaze landed on her cape draped across her desk. She grabbed the woolen garment and beat the flames feeding on the remnants of her once orderly classroom.

  Heat kissed her ankles…her skirt.

  Dropping to the floor, she rolled over broken glass, smothering the flames.

  Red binding caught her eye. Mr. Turner’s generous donation lay beneath a water soaked torch. The dictionary’s gold leaf pages, singed black. Her fingers traced its charred leather cover. Maybe she could salvage it.

  Flames hugged wooden benches in the corner of the room. She covered her mouth and coughed. Heart racing, her attention darted between the two exits. Where was Captain Reynolds?

  Ruth Ann waved her hand frantically in front of her face, attempting to clear the thin veil of smoke hanging in the air. She had to get out before the entire building was ablaze. Clutching the dictionary in her left arm, she aimed for the nearest exit.

  Gasping, she teetered to a halt.

  Three hooded men blocked her path.

  She willed her trembling knees not to buckle.

  The taller of three took charge. “Go tell ’em we found her. Tell Bender to bring the horses ’round back. And shove those burning benches toward the front doors. With any luck, that will slow any rescue party.”

  Hair bristled on the nape of her neck.

  Silas Hench. She scurried backward, but the other masked intruder blocked her retreat.

  Silas chuckled as he tapped his club-like weapon against his palm. “Ain’t nowhere to go, teacher.” He stepped forward, pinning her against a blackboard. “No need to be afraid. We’re here to be social. You’re gonna be our special guest at a shindig in your honor.” He nodded at his cohort. “Toss the place with kerosene. On my word, burn it to the ground.”

  His partner raised the firkin and removed its lid. “My pleasure.”

  An icy shiver ran its course over her quaking limbs. There was something familiar about that voice, too. She stared at the disguised man. Angry, green eyes engaged her own. But who? She couldn’t imagine anyone she knew, besides Silas, being involved in something like this.

  His thumb grazed her cheek. “We’ll have to tend this at the barn. Can’t have our prize bloody and bruised.”

  She swatted his hand away. “Don’t touch me.”

  Silas dropped his club then yanked the dictionary from her hand and flung it across the room. He grabbed her chin and pressed her firmly against the blackboard. Through jagged eyeholes, his gaze burned with rage. “We’re gonna teach you what happens to disrespectful, darkie-lovin’ white women ’round here.” Hatred spewed from his lips.

  She slid her hand inside her pocket and grasped the smooth handle of her concealed weapon.

  You’ll only get one chance.

  Her grip tightened. This was it. Now or never.

  Yanking the knife from her pocket, she thrust it upward into his ribs.

  He gasped and staggered backward.

  Side-stepping his wavering form, she bolted toward freedom.

  Thick hands circled her waist, pulling her down. Her body crashed into a desk, then slammed to the floor.

  The unknown assailant grabbed her wrists and yanked her to a sitting position.

  Silas knelt close-by, blood seeping between the fingers pressed against his shirt. “We can do this the hard way or the easy way. Makes no never mind to me.”

  Chest heaving, defiance surged through her veins. “I won’t do anything to make it easy for you.”

  “Hard way it is.” He nodded at his accomplice.

  With lightning speed, the man’s calloused hand struck her cheek.

  Her head wrenched sideways. Throbbing pain burst across her jawline as liberated tendrils fell across her face. If ever there was a time to keep her mouth shut, this was it, but she could no more contain her tongue than a raging river could alter its course. Her eyes narrowed as she lifted her chin. “You’re nothing but cowards hiding behind those hoods like children behind their mothers’ skirts!”

  “You were right, kid. She has a mouth on her.”

  Kid? Who was hiding behind the other mask? How would he know…?

  Silas’ cohort grabbed her hair, forcing her head back.

  She screamed and clawed at the man’s hand. Smack. Another whack to her face sent sharp, stabbing pain through her cheekbone and exploding across her temple.

  Silas sneered. “Keep talkin’, and you’ll get more of that.”

  Warm blood dribbled from her mouth, leaving the faint taste of iron on her lips.

  The other man stood and chucked the small cask in the corner before peering out the window. “We’ve gotta get out of here. The place is crawling with men from town.”

  With both hands, she shoved Silas’s chest, knocking him off bal
ance. She scrambled backward, wincing as window shards pierced her palms.

  Silas grabbed her ankles.

  She kicked and flailed as he dragged her toward him. Outstretched fingers grabbed a thick wedge of glass. She thrust her hand toward Silas’ face. The makeshift weapon tore through his flour sack mask. Finding her target, she jabbed its pointy edge into his flesh.

  Silas reeled, hands covering his cheek. He cursed as crimson stains formed on his white hood. He shoved Ruth Ann to the floor. Straddling her, he pinned her arms above her head. “You’re gonna pay for that, teacher.”

  “Ruthie?” Benjamin pounded on the rear door. “You in there?”

  Silas covered her mouth then yelled to his partner. “Get rid of whoever that is. Then help me restrain her so we can be on our way.”

  The hooded man nodded and pulled a knife from a sheath secured at his hip. He reached for the chair barricading the door. “I have a few scores to settle with Benjamin Coulter.”

  ~*~

  Benjamin stepped back from the rear door of the schoolhouse, clutching his side. Sounded like a struggle inside. And if he was right, Silas was in there.

  Bracing for the impact, Benjamin breathed as deep as he dared then hurled himself, shoulder first, against the wooden barrier. It gave way, and he stumbled inside, biting back foul words as agony ignited his shoulder, arm, and ribs. His eyes drifted closed briefly as he swayed on his feet. He willed himself to stay conscious. Forcing his eyes open, he shook his head, hoping to do the same for his mental acuity.

  The sudden whoosh of air drove the smoldering fire toward the trail of kerosene. Invigorated sparks sent new flames bouncing and skipping across the classroom.

  For a fateful second Benjamin froze, paralyzed by the image of the masked vigilante astride Ruth Ann. Bile rose in this throat.

  She jerked free of her assailant’s hold against her mouth then bit his hand.

  The man writhed and cursed.

  Silas.

  “Ben, beside you. He has a knife!”

  A flash of white caught the corner of Benjamin’s eye a moment too late. The hooded man pounced. Benjamin dodged his blade. Grimacing, he compelled his injured arm behind him. Tingling fingers freed the pocket revolver from his waistband. He flung his arm around and fired without taking aim, grazing his attacker’s shoulder. Undeterred, the man surged forward. Benjamin squeezed the trigger twice more, piercing the vigilante’s leg and knee. This time the masked raider lurched forward, before slumping to the floor.

  Muscles convulsed in Benjamin’s side, shoulder, and head as he spun toward Silas and Ruth Ann. He coughed as smoke constricted his already overworked lungs. Eyes pressed firm, he wagged his head in a futile effort to ward off the encroaching blur. He couldn’t black out now. Ruthie needed him. The stinging sensation returned to his arm. Numbness flowed to his hand, his fingers. He stared helpless as the revolver slipped from his grasp.

  Silas leapt from the floor and lunged at Benjamin, ramming his head into Benjamin’s gut.

  He doubled over, gasping for breath as he careened backward still engulfed in Silas’ bear-like hold of his chest and arms.

  “Get out…Ruthie! Now!”

  21

  Ruth Ann darted toward the busted rear door.

  Benjamin moaned.

  She looked over her shoulder. Silas knelt next to Benjamin, repeatedly smashing his head against the raised platform that housed her desk. How could she leave when he was unable to defend himself? He had just saved her from a horrible fate. But what could she do? Silas was much bigger, stronger than she. If only she had—

  Where was it? Smoke irritated her lungs and clouded her view. Embers floated from the ceiling where flames licked the crossbeams. Soon there would be no escaping.

  Then she spied it, lying on the floor beneath the blackboard. She maneuvered swiftly around a burning bench, grabbed the club, and came up behind Silas.

  You’ll only get one chance.

  Ruth Ann raised the weapon over her shoulder. Heart pounding in her chest, she swung the instrument. An eerie bone-snapping crack split the air when the cudgel collided with Silas’ skull. Blood splattered on her clothes, her hands. His body swayed above Benjamin.

  Footsteps thundered over the popping, hissing fire. Two, maybe three men were coming.

  She struck Silas again.

  A loud groan passed from his lips before he collapsed.

  Chest heaving with fear, she raised the club overhead and prepared to swing again.

  “Stop, Miss Ruth Ann. You gonna kill him.”

  Panting, her gaze landed on the origin of the familiar voice. Loose strands of hair mingled with blood from her busted lip clung to the side of her face.

  Amos slowly lifted his hands and removed the weapon from her grasp. “We needs to get you outta here.”

  She nodded.

  A ceiling beam crashed to the floor.

  “Go on.” He nudged her toward the rear door.

  Her gaze jumped to Benjamin.

  “I gets him.” Amos stooped beside Benjamin. Grunting, he tugged his limp body forward and onto his shoulder.

  Fire blocked their retreat. She glanced toward the front. Taller, four-foot flames consumed everything in that direction. Where were they to go?

  “No choice, miss. We gots to run those flames ’fore they get big like them others. You gots to run then jump like when you was little playin’ in the garden.”

  Her eyes widened. “You first.”

  Amos shook his head. “No, miss. I won’t leave lessen you does.”

  Amos and Benjamin were depending on her. She took a deep breath and hiked her skirts then sprinted toward the door.

  Beyond the open doorway a voice called from the darkness, interrupting her retreat. “Wait!”

  She halted at Joseph’s warning.

  “Bucket brigade!”

  Frigid water splashed against her. She gasped. Before she could wipe her eyes, another cold dousing soaked her skirt. She staggered backward. Three more buckets followed, spraying the hem of her skirt.

  Joseph stomped the remaining flames with his boot then grabbed her by the elbow and whisked her to safety.

  Amos followed, carrying Benjamin.

  “Is anyone else inside?”

  She nodded, shivering as the cold, night wind whipped against her sodden form. “Two…raiders...one unconscious. One is Silas, but I think he’s dead.”

  He yelled to the volunteers. “Keep the water coming. We got two more inside.”

  Two men rushed passed her into the burning schoolhouse. She shook her head. Silas wouldn’t have done the same for any of them.

  “Are you all right? Let me look at you.” Joseph struggled to keep her at arms length to inspect her injuries.

  Ruth Ann wriggled free and grasped hold of him. “I’m fine. Nothing serious, cuts and bruises.” For the first time since the raid started, she was safe. Fear released itself in a torrent of tears.

  Wrapping his coat around her shoulders, Joseph pulled her close, patting her back. “Shhh, it’s all over.”

  Benjamin moaned.

  She knelt beside him on the ground and gently placed his head on her lap. A warm, sticky substance covered her hands. Her eyes widened then darted to Joseph.

  Grabbing a lantern, he lowered himself beside her.

  Tenderly Ruth Ann adjusted Benjamin’s head so Joseph could get a better view.

  “He’ll need stitches. We need to cover that wound to keep the dirt out.”

  “My petticoats.”

  Amos cradled Benjamin’s head while she tore the bottom of her underskirts then wrapped the eyelet fabric securely around his injury.

  Joseph fingered a hole in Benjamin’s jacket. “He’s been shot.”

  Ruth Ann’s throat constricted. “Shot? Is it bad?” She searched Joseph’s eyes for any shred of hope.

  “I don’t know. Help me roll him over.”

  Benjamin moaned as they repositioned him.

  Joseph inspect
ed the back of Benjamin’s shoulder. “Looks like there’s an exit wound. I’m no doctor, but that’s a good sign.” They rolled him gently onto his back, his head once again resting on Ruth Ann’s lap.

  She let out a breath and swiped at the last of her tears. “Why was Benjamin on my security patrol? I…I told him to go away and never come back.”

  “He insisted. He told Captain Reynolds that if you were teaching, he wanted to help protect you. He’s been guarding our house most nights by himself as well.”

  She shook her head in disbelief. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would he do that? Why would he risk his life for me after—?”

  Joseph squeezed her hand. “He may not know it himself, but he still loves you.”

  Memories of their last conversation flooded her thoughts. He’d professed his love and had requested she wait for him. Maybe he did still love her—just not the way she was.

  Two men hurried from the burning structure carrying hooded cargo. The raider writhed and struggled to break free of their grasp. “There’s still one more man in there.”

  Joseph glanced toward the schoolhouse. “It’s too dangerous.”

  Pop. Crack.

  Ruth Ann sucked in a breath and clutched her chest.

  The last of the windows exploded and large plumes of black smoke floated over the schoolyard. Creaking timbers gave way as the remaining section of roof collapsed.

  Mr. Turner assisted the men in subduing the rescued vigilante.

  Amos tied the man’s hands behind his back. He winced as they jerked him to his feet and removed his hood.

  Ruth Ann gasped, her eyes widening. “Elias!”

  “You knows this man?”

  She nodded. “I can’t believe you’d do such a thing. That you would let Silas…” She shuddered at the thought of what Silas and the others might have done to her at their ‘shindig’ had Benjamin not been able to break down the door.

  Angry green eyes glared at her. “You brought this on yourself, Ruth Ann. We tried to warn you to stop teaching here.”

  Joseph’s eyes narrowed, fists clenched at his sides. “And you’ve brought jail—maybe even a hanging on yourself.”

  A hand flew to her mouth. “Hanging?”

  Joseph nodded. “There are three dead men, one Negro and two raiders. Two Negro women were assaulted in the woods. Captain Reynolds has been shot. Nate was ambushed before the raid, tied to a tree, and beaten unconscious. We haven’t counted the wounded yet and then there is all of this.” Joseph’s gaze swept over the burning school. “So, yes, perhaps a hanging is in order, but that’s not up to me. We’ll send for the sheriff in the morning.”