Wilderness Trail of Love (American Wilderness Series Romance Book 1)
Page 18
She missed their life.
Could she forgive him?
The next morning, they all agreed to meet at Cat Springs, about one week west of their current location. The night before, Catherine had written down a detailed description of the two men and their horses. She also gave them the approximate location of the attack, and a list of their stolen belongings, including a description of her husband’s horse. William read the list over and put it in his waistcoat pocket.
The two left as the sun came up behind them, the strong new rays falling across their backs.
Jane said a silent prayer to the sound of the horses’ hooves as they galloped away. She didn’t want either one of them hurt. Stephen sat his stallion straight and rigid, his shoulders broad, ready to take on the burden of hunting down the killers. She realized she had put a terrible weight on those shoulders.
“How can you just calmly watch them ride off after murderers?” Catherine asked.
“I’m not calm.” In fact, her stomach was tightening with apprehension. But, Stephen and William were in God’s hands, on the side of righteousness, and they’re Wyllies. She told herself not to fret. As much to convince herself as Catherine, she said, “But I will not worry. Those murdering thieves better start worrying though.”
“Why haven’t you told him?” Catherine asked after she learned Jane was with child, the reason for her fussy stomach.
“Our two girls died less than a month ago. We’re both still grieving. We’re having a difficult time coping with their loss. I wanted the pain to ease before I said anything about this son.”
“How do you know it’s a son?”
Jane caressed her tummy. “I just do. For some reason, I know this child more than the others I’ve carried. I’m not sure why yet, but I know he’ll do something important with his life.”
Catherine blinked away tears. “I lost our first baby last year in Boston. That’s one reason I wanted to leave on this trip, to get away from that memory. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to have another. The doctor wasn’t sure.”
“I’m so sorry Catherine. You will be blessed with another child if you are intended to have more.”
“First, He will have to bless me with another husband when I return to Boston. But this time I’ll marry for love, not for my father. Since I was fifteen, Mr. Adams was the man my father thought I should marry. When the time came, I wasn’t given a choice. Everyone, including me, took it for granted that I would marry him. He was a nice enough man, with a lot of ambition—that’s why we were on our way to Kentucky. He wanted lots of land for a timber business. But something was always missing from our marriage. I guess it was love. I’ll not marry again until I’m sure I’m loved.”
“Why do you want to return to Boston?”
“What choice do I have? That’s where my family is. I hope to meet up with a respectable family like yours traveling north that will let me travel with them to a city on the east coast. I can take a coach home from there to Boston.”
“You have another choice. You can come with us. You’re welcome to join our family.”
“That’s generous of you. But I won’t be a burden to anyone and I have no one in Kentucky,” Catherine protested.
“You won’t be a burden and you’ll have us. I could use the help and company of another woman. Keeping up with all these men and children by myself is beyond a challenge. Please stay with us Catherine. I’d be deeply disappointed if you left.”
“How do you know we can be friends? How can you trust a woman you barely know with your children?” Catherine asked with a glance at the playing children.
“Just as I know my unborn son. I do,” Jane said.
“I would be honored to be your friend.”
“Maybe I need you. I never conceived of the extreme difficulties and dangers we would face. It’s beyond anything I could have imagined. You’ve found that out too. We’ve both lost loved ones. Had I known what it would be like, I would have stayed in my home. It was small, but comfortable.” Remembering their cozy home, she barely kept her anger in check.
“I know you’re still angry. That bitter anger spawned by the death of a child was part of the problem between me and my late husband.”
“Stephen should never have taken us on this journey,” Jane continued. “Maybe I should have refused to go. But I didn’t have the heart to void his dream. And he seemed unstoppable, as he is now. I begged him to turn around. But he won’t turn back. For Martha and Polly’s sake, I’ll make the best of it. Please stay Catherine. I admit I need you.”
Catherine refilled her coffee cup, waiting a moment before responding. “I’ll stay temporarily, until William and Stephen come back. I feel responsible that they’ve left you and I have to be certain they’ll return safely. But before I make a final decision, I want to talk to the others first.”
“Agreed. And they will return safely.” She prayed she was right and remembered Stephens’s words. Nothing on earth is as strong as my love.
CHAPTER 27
It was the first time Stephen had joined William in a pursuit of lawbreakers. He’d heard stories of his brother’s uncanny instincts for tracking down criminals. Funny, William couldn’t seem to track a deer or any other animal without his or Sam’s help, but his brother had a sixth sense for the criminal mind.
It took until noon to get to the site of Adams’ murder, a lonely stretch on the road leading to Lancaster, between the villages of Coatesville and Gap. They studied the area for some time. Fortunately, it hadn’t rained since the murder and they found several valuable clues. Catherine had buried her husband, but not the man she killed.
“It must have been hard on her to dig a grave and bury a husband alone,” William said.
They gazed at the lonely plot of rock-covered earth. There must have been a couple hundred rocks on the grave.
“You’re right, but she strikes me as the kind of woman who could manage,” Stephen said. “She certainly tried her best to give him a decent burial. This must have taken her hours.”
Wolves had left little of the other man but his boots, bits of clothing, and his gun. “His initials are carved on the butt,” William said. “D R T. If he’s related to the other two, and that’s a definite possibility, their surname name would start with a T.”
“Unless he stole the gun from somebody else,” Stephen suggested.
“That’s a possibility, but I don’t think so. The same initials are carved on this knife.” William put both in his saddlebag and mounted his horse. “We’re done here.”
“They won’t be hard to track,” Stephen said.
“No, the hoof prints of four horses lead away from here—the horses of the two we’re after, Adams’ steed, and the dead robber’s mount. And these guys are lazy. They make their living robbing decent folks—too lazy for anything difficult, like climbing these hills through the timber to make them hard to follow. My bet is they’ll just follow the road to their next victim or town.”
“Hope it’s not more victims,” Stephen said.
They rode on through desolate country. Concentrating on following the killers’ clear trail, William barely spoke a word. That suited Stephen who was lost in thoughts of Jane. The landscape also fitted his mood perfectly. Empty and lonely.
He missed her love. Could he ever get it back?
They followed the tracks until dusk when they made camp near a natural spring. After a cold dinner of jerky and day old biscuits, they stretched out to sleep.
“Thanks for coming along,” William said into the darkness.
“No thanks necessary.”
“Just the same, I’m glad you’re here.”
Stephen waited a moment before replying. “I’m not sure I’m glad we’re here.”
“What do you mean?” William asked.
“I don’t mean chasing these murderers. That had to be done. I’m talking about this journey.”
“West is where your dreams are, where our futures are, all of ours
—even Jane’s, although she may have forgotten that in her grief.”
“Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?”
The question hung in the darkness between them for several moments before William answered. “There’s nothing to forgive, so no. Dreams always require sacrifices. The important thing is to not let those sacrifices be for nothing.”
“By God, I won’t let them be.” He rolled over on his pallet and tugged his blanket over his back, signaling the end of their conversation.
Out of his grief came a new resolve to find what he had come for—his land and their future.
At dawn, both men climbed into the saddle, eager to follow the path of their prey once again.
“This is like tracking a herd of cows,” William said after they had gotten underway. “They’re not hard to follow.”
Stephen resented the analogy. “These bastards are more like skunks than cows. Mr. Adams was following a dream of going west, just as we are. These whoresons turned it into a nightmare. Left his wife a widow, robbed her of her possessions.”
By late afternoon, the road forked at the western end of the valley they had just crossed. William dismounted and dropped the reins. Trained to stand still when the reins were on the ground, the gelding took the opportunity to munch a few blades of grass, snorting loudly between bites. William hiked a short distance up the road and back again, studying the ground, while he did the same in the opposite direction.
“They went north,” William finally said.
“Then we head north.”
The little-used north trail rapidly became a steep uphill climb. The horses tired as they climbed rock covered inclines.
“Let’s give our mounts a rest at the next stream,” William said.
“Give them a rest or you?”
“Got to keep up with my beauty rest. It’s a habit you should cultivate, judging from that face of yours.”
“It was good enough for Father, and it’s good enough for me.”
“You do resemble him remarkably. I guess that’s why we all let you lead us around. We think you’re going to give us a whomping like he did with that damn razor strap. All he’d have to do is look at that strap to make me straighten up.”
George stepped over a large rock. “If he was speaking to you now, he’d tell you it’s high time for you to give up your bachelor ways, settle down, get married and get to work on your own farm. And he probably would give you a good whomping.”
“I’ll settle down when the time is right and not before. I have no desire to farm. I want to study the law and use it to help people. Without the rule of law, our hard won freedoms cannot be assured. Those who infringe on a man’s freedom and rights should pay a price. That’s what I believe and that’s what I intend to do with my life. A place like Kentucky will need sheriffs and lawyers.”
“What about a wife? You seem fond enough of women. You should have found a suitable one by now.”
“That’s just it. I haven’t found one I’m not fond of.” William chuckled. “They’re all appealing in various ways. Narrowing it down to just one is impossible.”
“You better start soon. You won’t be that handsome forever. There are a few white hairs sticking out by those big ears of yours.”
William rubbed the hair by his ear. “White?”
“Indeed.”
Seeing the amusement in Stephen’s eyes, William chuckled, but his eyes still looked worried.
They stopped by a stream flowing down from the foothills. Crystal clear water flowed and gurgled over colorful rocks and boulders, formed and polished over centuries with the infinite patience of nature. After taking a drink, he studied the desolate hills around them, studded heavily with thick spruce and cedars. “Keep a watch for bears and mountain cats. They hunt in the higher hills like these,” Stephen said.
“Thanks for the tip,” William said.
“Look,” Stephen said, pointing to a whisper of smoke escaping through the treetops. “Must be a homestead up there.”
Both men mounted their horses and headed toward the cabin.
“Don’t assume they’re friendly,” William said.
“The only thing I’m assuming is that they’re not.”
They rode a short way up the path and then tied their horses to a tree. Both grabbed their rifles and checked the powder in their pistols. Slowly and quietly, they made their way on foot up the rest of the hill. Hiding behind a large pine, they studied the little rustic dugout for several minutes.
The backside of the cabin rested snugly against the side of a rock covered hill, providing natural insulation against winter winds and snows from the north. A dilapidated porch covered a large front door. Rough logs, cut into five-foot sections, formed the three walls. The only sounds they heard were a squirrel jumping from tree limb to tree limb behind them and chickens foraging a short distance from the house.
“That pen is holding four horses and a mule. That’s a lot of horse flesh for a place like this,” Stephen said.
William nodded in agreement. “That big sorrel with the white stocking on the right rear foot matches the description of Mr. Adams’ steed. And the other three are the colors of the three killers’ horses she described. We’ve found them.”
“That sorrel’s a fine looking animal. Probably what they killed Adams for.”
“I’ve heard that in the wilderness, horses are more valuable than humans. My guess would be they plan to take it to a fort or settlement for trade,” William said. “It’s too quiet in there. What do you suppose they’re up to?”
A scream of terror and agony pierced the silence.
He glanced at William for a split second before they both took off running towards the small cabin.
“Stay quiet. We’ll have the advantage of surprise,” William told him.
William stepped quietly onto the porch, both pistols drawn and motioned for Stephen to stand on the other side of the door.
The woman screamed again, sounding terror-stricken.
William burst through the crude front door, pistols drawn.
Stephen stepped into the room and caught sight of a young woman, bound to the bed, and her two attackers, one of them struggling to penetrate her, the other fondling her breasts. She appeared to be little more than a girl.
In that split second, the repressed anger of his girls’ deaths flooded through his mind. The raw and bleeding skin on the girl’s ankles and wrists enraged him. The sight of those two animals ravaging her slight body made rage explode from his every pore.
William locked his pistol’s sights on the man on top of the woman, but didn’t shoot. If his brother fired, he might hit her.
With eyes looking through a father’s rage, he understood what he had to do. He couldn’t help his daughters now, but he could help this young woman. He cocked his weapon. As the one fondling her small breasts stood up in surprise, Stephen shot him squarely in the chest.
The other man jumped up, his eyes narrowed, his face contorted in fury, and lunged through the powder’s smoke toward him.
Stephen turned his pistol around and used the butt to club the man’s jaw. Then he kicked the rapist in the stomach with his boot. The vicious blow threw the man to the floor face down.
“Help me. Help me. Help me,” the woman sobbed.
The woman’s pathetic plea momentarily distracted him, but he spun around when William fired his pistol. The attacker dropped to the floor, shot through the heart.
“He went for his knife,” William said, as he nudged the man with his boot. He won’t do it again.”
Stephen heard wretched sobbing behind him. The woman’s pitiful cries triggered the need to protect and tugged at his heart. If William hadn’t just killed the bastard, he would have beaten the man to death himself.
CHAPTER 28
It all happened in a blur of seconds. It took more time for them to find a blanket, cover the young woman, and cut the bindings at her wrists and ankles than it did to kill her assailants.
Stephen and William looked at each other not sure what to do first.
Stephen motioned toward the dead men. “Let’s get them out of here and then I’ll fetch some water so she can wash up.”
They each grabbed one and drug the two men out the cabin door, their bodies leaving a path of blood, crooked and smeared, just like the lives they’d led.
William shoved the man Stephen shot off the dusty porch and went back to help the young woman.
Stephen threw the other body face down in the dirt Then he marched on to retrieve their horses. He mounted George, and lugged William’s horse behind him as he rode quickly back up to the cabin. He tied the men’s feet with his rope and used George to drag the bodies into the woods. The last thing that poor girl needed was to see these two again. He decided he’d better search their pockets in case they had any of Mrs. Adams’ valuables on them. The first man had nothing, but he found Mr. Adams’ watch in the other’s pocket. He searched further and found a pouch of money. He secured both in his waistcoat pocket.
After untying the rope and remounting, he peered down at the bodies and noticed unbuttoned pants hung around the legs of one of them. His eyes hardened. “Go to hell,” he swore.
Stephen got water from the cistern and brought the bucket to the cabin door. He gave the bucket to William who gave a dipperful to the young woman. She drank greedily, clutching the blanket against her breast. Her crying slowed somewhat and she laid back down on the cot.
“How is she?” Stephen asked softly.
“Still in shock I think,” William whispered. “I found what looked like a rag and wiped the blood from the floor as best I could and then threw the rag in the hearth, along with the scraps of rope that the bastards used to tie her.”