“It’s no joke, Hazel. Unlike you, I look at the person’s heart. Of course, the fact she’s beautiful to behold is a blessing.” He smiled at the thought of his Becca. “And she wasn’t a scullery maid for even a day.”
Her voice hardened, lowering in pitch. “Ten minutes or ten years—it doesn’t matter. How can you betray everyone you know by associating with a servant? It’s nothing short of disgusting, if you ask me.”
“And I’m sure plenty of your friends have sought your opinion.”
“Indeed, and they don’t think too highly of you.” She crossed her arms with even more resignation.
“I will have to live with their poor opinion. Once Becca is returned safely to me, I am determined we shall wed as early as this spring.”
Hazel wagged her finger. “You are making a fool of yourself, Nash Abercrombie.” She let her voice linger on his last name, reminding him of its significance in society.
Nash was eager to move on to more important matters. “Did you say you have a missive for me?”
“I do. It contains a demand. A demand I think you will find distressing.” She drew a letter out of her pocket. “You’ll see it’s a ransom note, asking the sum of three thousand for my return. But as you can see, I have not been kidnapped.”
“Here. Give me that.” Nash didn’t intend rudeness, but he snatched the letter from her in a bold manner and read it.
Mr. Gill:
I no yur responsybal for Nash Abercomby’s intinded, Hazel Calwell. We hav her hear saf and sownd and now we want the sume of $3,000 for her return. Met me at the Baptist Metin Howse at 8 oclok tonit with the mony or else. Do not bring anybody else or yu wil regret it.
“These demands are terrible,” Nash murmured.
“Indeed.” Hazel watched him read, regarding him with a hint of satisfaction. “I wonder what they’ll think when they find out they have a little match girl instead of a woman of substance?”
Nash rolled the letter in his hands without concentrating. “I doubt they’ll care, as long as they get their money.”
“Funny how they didn’t recognize the little Hanham girl. You’d think they’d live right next door to each other.”
“Just because her family is poor doesn’t make them criminals. I resent that implication.”
“I didn’t mean such an implication,” Hazel assured him, although Nash knew better than to believe her.
“At least this note means she’s alive. My poor, gentle little Becca. I hope they are treating you well,” he muttered, then looked heavenward. “I thank Thee, Lord, for such favor.”
“Why I do believe you mean that?” Hazel observed. “No one will ever understand how you can love a little match girl when you could have married me, one of the most well-connected women in all of Providence. I’ll certainly never comprehend how you could release me. When you first introduced me to your little maid, I was willing to fight for you. In fact, I had every intention of doing everything I could to ruin you. But no more. My sister and brother-in-law tried to convince me that you are worthy only of my pity and certainly unworthy of my time. Now that we have had this little meeting, I can see they are right.”
Such a proclamation didn’t surprise him. Mitchell’s business dealings were aligned with his, so Nash’s ruination—assuming Hazel possessed such power—wouldn’t benefit their family. “I’m sorry to lose your good opinion of me,” he said and meant it. “However, I deserve no less. Perhaps we can be on better terms in the future.”
“Of course I will always be civil to you in polite society, Mr. Abercrombie, but my interests will lie elsewhere. I assure you, suitors will stand in line at my door as soon as they find I am free.”
Not sure how to respond, he smiled. “I wish you well.”
A slight pout visited her lips, a gesture she always used when upset and one he would not miss. He couldn’t recall ever seeing Becca pout. “My relatives will not pay the ransom, so this problem is yours now.” Triumph colored Hazel’s voice. “By the by, according to the note, you have exactly five hours from now to pay. You’d better hurry.”
“Five hours?” His stomach lurched. “Then I suppose I should thank you for bringing this letter to my attention.”
“Of course. I wish you the best of luck. I don’t approve of your taste, but it is not my wish to see even that little fortune seeker die at the hands of a kidnapper.”
“Becca is not a fortune seeker, and if you insult her ever again, I shall never forgive you.”
“Perhaps not.” She gave Nash a sly look. “Although, I must speak now for your own good. For even though you have thrown me aside, I will always harbor a certain regard for you. Have you ever considered that she might know her captor?”
“No! I must protest—”
“Hear me out. Did you ever consider that, if not Becca herself, perhaps someone in her family might be setting up a ruse to collect money from you?”
He felt himself pale. “I—I hadn’t considered such a thing.”
“Perhaps you’d better consider it. Good day.”
As Hazel left, Nash tried to put her suggestion out of his mind. Surely no one in Becca’s family would stage such an event to extort money. Becca’s observations about how her father treated her—treated all of their family—cluttered his mind. A drunk looking for his own benefit. But what would he have to gain? Wouldn’t his future father-in-law be much better off allowing his daughter to marry him, affording her lifelong wealth instead of a one-time windfall? The story of the goose that laid the golden egg came to mind.
Nash couldn’t help but focus on the note scrawled in a childish hand. “Lord, please forgive me for putting Becca in danger, even though that was never my intent. Guide me now, please.”
He almost wished Becca’s family had set up the kidnapping. Then he would know for certain she’d be safe. But if they hadn’t, then the love of his life faced real trouble. If harm did befall her, he could never forgive himself. If only they’d chosen another day to go to the milliner’s, Becca would be sitting beside him now, perhaps chattering about her new hats or making plans for the wedding.
Plans. God has a plan for everything, even if it’s beyond human comprehension. He had to remember that. In the meantime, gathering the money to pay the ransom took precedence over everything else.
At that moment, he decided to refuse to consider the possibility of Mr. Hanham’s involvement in the kidnapping. Nash would treat him as a worried father. He resolved to let his future father-in-law know about Becca’s whereabouts. Perhaps Mr. Hanham would accompany Nash on the drive, although, fearing for his future in-law’s safety, he would not allow him to meet the robber.
Glancing at the floor clock visible from its position in the dining room, he realized he had just enough time to go by the bank to collect his money, then see Mr. Hanham before he contacted the robber at the historic meetinghouse. He imagined the founder of the congregation, Roger Williams, would be none too pleased if he knew the site had been chosen for such a transaction.
❧
Sitting alone in a small, sparse room, Becca prayed for help, recited the Lord’s Prayer many times, and brought to her mind many Bible verses that gave her comfort. When would help come? “ ‘The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.’ ”
The blond, whom Becca had learned went by the name of Maizie, entered without knocking. “Here’s your dinner.”
Becca’s head snapped toward Maizie in surprise. Thinking of escape, she hadn’t considered a meal. As much as she hated to admit it, the broth with carrots and corn preserved from the summer crop emitted an aroma that promised a delicious respite. A thin slice of coarse bread without benefit of fruit preserves accompanied the soup, alon
g with a small cup of water. “Thank you.”
She set the meal on the only table in the room and studied her charge. “What were you mumblin’ to yourself?”
“A psalm.”
“Oh.” She shrugged. “Do you really believe all that rubbish they talk about in church?”
“Rubbish?” The idea of her Lord’s Word being called “rubbish” offended Becca, but she didn’t want to bristle lest she set off Maizie’s temper and diminish her circumstances. “I—I believe in the Lord, yes.”
“Lots of good that’s doin’ you now.”
Becca paused. “The Bible didn’t promise things would always be perfect, but He sustains me through hard times. I can tell you that.”
“Is that so?” Maizie’s mouth twisted in doubt.
Becca studied her captor, noting her unenergetic demeanor and sour expression. Against her will, she blurted a thought. “Are you happy?”
Maizie’s mouth dropped open. “Happy? Why, I’d never thought much about it.”
Becca didn’t see how anybody could be happy living with criminals and taking part in their crooked way of making a living, but she decided that wasn’t the time to pass judgment. “Well, I’m happy most of the time, even though life for me isn’t perfect. My faith helps me.”
“Then you must be the only person in church who’s not a hypocrite.”
Becca noticed the hurt in the woman’s eyes. “I’m sorry someone disappointed you. But not everyone will. May I pray for you?”
She gasped, and for the first time since Becca saw her, a hint of a smile shone on Maizie’s face. “For me? You’d pray for me? You don’t have reason to do that.” She paused and narrowed her eyes. “Wait. This is a trick. You want me to help you escape, don’t you?”
“I’d like that,” Becca admitted, “but that has nothing to do with my prayers for you. I’ll pray for you right now. We can pray together.”
She startled. “Y–you’re the first person what ever offered to do that for me.”
“Then let’s pray now—”
“Maizie!” her companion called from the next room. “What’s the matter?” She entered the room. “Is the girl givin’ you trouble?”
“No. No.” She shook her head in quick motions, then turned her face to Becca. “I’ll be back to pick up your dishes shortly.”
Though the opportunity to pray with Maizie alone was lost, Becca said a prayer that the Lord would keep her in His care and guide her to a better life walking with Him. She petitioned that another opportunity to pray with Maizie would present itself and that in the future God would put more sincere Christians in Maizie’s path. Then, in a soft voice, she said a blessing and ate the meal in silence. The delay meant lukewarm soup, but the broth comforted her even as anxiety never left. At least since she had shown compliance, they had chosen to trust her enough not to bind her or stuff her mouth to keep her quiet. For those kindnesses, she was thankful. Yet she longed to see the one sure to be her rescuer.
Nash, where are you?
❧
Calculating that he had just enough time, Nash went about his business quickly, deciding to be driven in his carriage rather than riding on horseback in case Mr. Hanham did agree to accompany him to rescue his daughter. Nash first stopped by the bank. The institution’s president scratched his head and looked at Nash with doubting eyes when he withdrew such a large sum. Though innocent, Nash felt guilty. Thankfully no one questioned him. With the money in his pocket, he instructed Jack to drive him to Mr. Hanham’s.
“Stay here and wait, Jack,” Nash instructed as he disembarked.
“Yes, sir.”
Nash hoped the driver would obey. Jack had become even more careless of late. Glancing at the sidewalk, Nash noticed stares coming his way and wondered if Becca felt odd when she arrived in such style each evening.
Becca. He prayed he’d see her soon.
Nash remembered the day he asked Mr. Hanham for Becca’s hand and had spent considerable time with the family. Would he ever become accustomed to such poverty? The conditions still shocked him. Looking around, Nash tried not to show his disdain. The homes had never been fine, but neglect hadn’t helped. Nash realized that in most cases, lack of money rather than sloth resulted in their unkempt appearance.
Children wearing rags walked about with no shoes. Their image reminded him of Becca that long-ago night when her eyes beckoned him to help her. He’d never regret that, no matter what happened in the future.
He knocked on the door.
“Who is it?” yelled Mrs. Hanham.
“Nash Abercrombie.”
“Nash! Nash!” some of the children cried before opening the door. Becca’s two-year-old brother and three-year-old sister ran to him and hugged his legs. He greeted them and smiled for the first time since Becca was kidnapped. The older girls, hovering in the background, looked at him with awe as though he were some kind of angel.
Their mother turned to them. “Girls, be on yer way.”
“But, Mother—”
“Be on yer way.” At the sound of her raised voice, the small child she held started yelping, and she rocked him on her hip. “Mr. Abercrombie, nice to see ya. To what do I owe this pleasure?”
He doffed his hat. “I wish this were a social call. The matter I have on my mind is quite urgent. May I speak with your husband?”
Her mouth dropped. “I’m sorry. I ain’t got no idea where he is. Is everythin’ fine?”
He wished he could console her, but to do so would be to lie. “If I may ask, you have no idea when he might return?”
“No, sir.”
Nash couldn’t help but wonder if Becca’s father was with the criminals, just waiting for him to appear at the meetinghouse with the money. Anger flared at the thought, and he prayed it wasn’t so. “And you have no idea where he’s gone?”
She shook her head. “I don’t have fine tea, but ya can come inside for a spot of ale. I’m sure my husband wouldn’t mind if I give ya some under the circumstances.”
“Forgive me for being unable to accept your hospitality, but I must take leave of you.”
“Is—is everythin’all right?” she asked again.
Nash searched for something comforting to say but could offer little. “I pray it will be in due time. I’ll be back.”
Without time to search every tavern in town for Becca’s father, Nash found Jack waiting for him. He sighed with relief and instructed him to drive to the meetinghouse. As Nash rode, his nerves jangled, but he had to face his enemy. Unwilling to put his driver in danger, he disembarked two blocks before the meetinghouse.
“If I don’t return in half an hour, summon the police.”
“I don’t think it’s right for me to let you go alone, sir. Let me come with you.”
“I can honestly say I wish I could, but the letter said I am to bring no one. I wouldn’t dare put you in danger by doing so.”
Jack nodded slowly. “Yes, sir. I’ll be right here.”
Twilight was falling, so the trees cast ominous shadows. He set his chin high and walked like a brave man to the meetinghouse.
“Stop right there,” a voice commanded from the shadows. “Don’t get smart. Remember the gun? I still have it, and if I have to shoot, this time I won’t miss.”
Twelve
Nash walked toward the sound of the harsh voice coming from behind the meetinghouse. “I won’t try anything. I’m unarmed.”
A man emerged, holding a gun on Nash.
Nash recognized him as the robber he saw earlier. He displayed his hands, fingers spread, to show he spoke the truth. “Please, put your weapon away. I don’t seek to harm you. I only want Miss Hanham back.” He put his arms down but kept his hands in full view of the robber as he looked for Becca. “Where is she? I won’t give you any money until I see her.”
“That’s yer mistake. I’ll give ya the girl when I’m ready.” Still holding the gun, the robber studied him. “Say, ye’re the man what was with Miss Caldwell when th
is whole thing started.”
“That’s right. Only you don’t have Miss Caldwell in captivity. You have Miss Becca Hanham. My fiancée. I am Nash Abercrombie.”
His eyes squinted in confusion. “I don’t know what ye’re talkin’ about.” He scowled. “This better not be a dirty trick.”
“It is not.” Nash lifted his hands another inch for emphasis.
“Well, I don’t guess I care who ya are, as long as you got my money. Do ya?”
“Yes, I do.” He patted his suit coat to indicate its location.
The robber nodded and inspected the horizon. “Are ya alone?”
“Yes. I would never endanger anyone about whom I care.” At least not intentionally. He swallowed. “So where is she?”
“You’ll see her. For now, I want the money. Hand it over.” He shook the gun at Nash to show he meant business.
“All right then.” Nash withdrew a roll of large bills and threw it near the man’s feet. Even in the darkness, he could see the greed in the kidnapper’s eyes as he hurried to retrieve the money.
For the first time, the man’s gun wasn’t pointed at Nash. Taking advantage of his distracted condition, Nash charged him. With a quick chop of his wrist, he knocked the weapon from the man’s hand. He followed the movement with a knee to his soft belly. The man fell to the ground. Nash recalled his boyhood days of playing cricket and with agility retrieved the weapon lying nearby before his adversary could beat him. Though the criminal weighed more than Nash, he was strong enough to hold him in a vise grip with his hands and knees. He put the Colt revolver’s barrel to his temple.
“No! Don’t shoot me!” The kidnapper’s arms shook as he held them upward on the ground to signify surrender.
“Where is she?” Nash’s voice sounded threatening even to his own ears. “I demand to know.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. My partner said he’ll send word where to meet her tomorrow.”
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