“That’s not good enough.” Seeking to fortify his advantage, Nash retrieved the money from the ground, then pressed his knees deep into the man’s inner thigh. “And you are in no position to tell a falsehood.”
Sweat beaded on his brow, and he grimaced. “I said I don’t know.”
Nash exerted so much pressure on the man’s leg that he could feel sinewy muscle under layers of fat. He could smell the stench of nervous perspiration. “I’m the one with the gun now.”
The man grunted, and his face became even sweatier. “All right. I’ll take you to her, but only if you give me half the money now.”
Nash tried to conceal his anger at the man’s gall. “I won’t even consider giving you anything until I see her.”
He cut his gaze sideways in the direction of the gun and scowled. “Fine. Come with me.”
“Don’t try to escape.” Nash rose to his feet. He never allowed the gun’s barrel to point away from the man’s head.
Huffing, the man used considerable effort to steady himself. He rubbed his thigh where Nash’s knee had bruised it and scowled at his captor.
“It’s not as amusing to be the one held with a gun to your head, now is it?” Nash couldn’t resist asking without an ounce of levity.
His frown deepened.
“I’m concealing this gun in my coat pocket, but it will continue to be pointed at you at all times,” Nash warned. “Do not even think about making a false or sudden move.”
The man nodded.
“I’m going to lead you to my carriage now.” Jack would be waiting since nowhere near a half hour had passed. The idea that Jack would help him keep the robber under control relieved Nash. He swished the gun eastward. “Take the path. My driver is waiting.”
“I told you not to bring anybody,” he growled.
“That is neither here nor there now. Go.”
Nash could feel anger emanating from his captive, but he obeyed. After all, only a fool would argue with a revolver.
They kept walking along the path, well past where Nash had been certain he’d left Jack waiting.
“How much longer?” the robber asked. “My leg hurts.”
Nash tightened his lips. How could he admit to this criminal that he couldn’t depend on his own driver? Normally Nash wouldn’t employ someone so unreliable. Often he wished his father had never promised Jack’s mother they’d take care of her boy. To leave Nash alone in the dark, knowing he was to meet an armed man—the thought upset him. Still, Nash had to maintain his composure.
“We’ll keep walking,” Nash ordered. “Lead me to her.”
“I don’t know if I can with this bum leg,” he protested.
Nash drew the gun from his pocket so its full force would come into view. “You can and you will.”
“Oh, all right,” the man growled.
Nash put the gun back in his pocket. They walked toward Brown University on College Hill. He feared an accomplice might pounce on him, but no such event occurred. Instead, well before they reached the school, the robber ducked into a brick house. A lone light shone through a front window.
Nash’s heart beat wildly as they stepped over the threshold. Joy at the prospect of seeing Becca battled with sickening images of his beloved bound and gagged. He listened for muffled cries of distress coming from anywhere in the house.
Nash was surprised when a woman greeted them rather than another man. Surely this plain and plump member of the fairer sex wasn’t a criminal. But anyone who held his beloved Becca for ransom couldn’t be held blameless.
“Is this Mr. Gill?” Though not a conceited man, Nash caught a flirtatious inflection in her voice.
“No, it’s Mr. Abercrombie. The girl’s fiancé.”
“Oh.” Disappointment colored her voice. “So, what—what did you bring him fer?”
The robber’s eyes narrowed. “Shut up, woman. That’s not yer concern.”
Another woman, a blond, entered. “What’s going on in here?”
“Where is Miss Hanham?” Nash tilted his head toward the door from which the blond had appeared. “Is she in there?” He restrained himself from pushing past her and finding out for himself.
The woman ignored Nash and addressed her comrade. “Did he give ya the money?”
“I will give you the money when I see Miss Hanham,” Nash snapped. “Where is she?”
“Miss Hanham? Who is that? I’ve got Miss Caldwell with me.” The plump woman looked to the robber for guidance. “Dolph, what is the meaning of this?”
“Quiet. I’ll explain later. Show him to the room.”
She looked puzzled but obeyed. “Come with me.”
Nash watched as the woman unlocked the door of a back room. With only one candle for light, Becca sat in a chair. To his relief, they hadn’t placed her in restraints. Nash pushed past the woman and ran to his beloved. “Becca!”
She gasped, jumped up, and ran into his arms. “Nash! I’ve never been happier to see you!”
“Nor I, you.” He squeezed her in the way of a fond protector before breaking their embrace. He looked into her eyes. “Did they treat you well?”
Becca’s glance went to her captors and back. “As well as a kidnapping victim can be, I suppose.”
“You’ve retained your sense of humor, I see.” He smiled at her. He wanted to cover her face with kisses, but since others were present, he refrained.
Dolph’s rough voice interrupted his dream state. “Well, ain’t that nice?”
Nash turned his head to see him holding a gun on them. He felt himself flush with embarrassment. How could he have been so careless? Allowing himself to become distracted, he had put them in danger. He reached in his pocket for the weapon he had confiscated from his opponent.
“Don’t even think about it,” he said. “Put your hands up and come along with me.”
“I’m sorry, Becca,” he muttered into her hair.
“God is with us.” Her courageous assurance defied the fear he saw in her eyes.
“Is that what you think?” Dolph sneered. “Then ya’d better say yer prayers since ya ain’t got much time left. Now hand over the gun and the money, or I’ll take both of ’em from ya.”
Seeing no alternative, Nash surrendered to his demands.
Dolph took the roll of bills and handed it to his companion. “Put this under the bed.” She nodded with quick jerking motions.
“Don’t you worry none,” he assured his companion. “I’ll be back for you.”
❧
Becca couldn’t remember when a walk through town took so long. Under cloak of darkness, the kidnappers had changed locations from the cottage in the woods just in case someone tipped off the law. She could feel her pulse in her throat. She could tell by the strained look on Nash’s face—which she could see since her eyes had adjusted to the lack of light—that he was hatching a plan for escape. She prayed he would be successful.
“Stop.” The man’s abrupt command forced them to obey. Becca nearly ran into Nash as both of them came to a halt.
A buggy awaited them on Olive Street. In such a conveyance, commonplace all over town, no one would ever guess its passengers were being held captive. The criminals had thought of every way to keep from being discovered, as far as Becca could see. What would happen to Nash and her now? Her heart beat fast as her fear increased. Was this the night she would die? Though confident she would see the loving face of Jesus when the Lord called her home, Becca nevertheless wanted to live long enough to marry Nash and give him a family. Such prospects seemed more and more slim as their time with the robber increased.
Holding a silver flask, the thin man they called Mac jumped from the driver’s seat. “What took so long?” he snarled, revealing a missing front tooth.
“Don’t worry. Everything went just as planned.”
Nash stared at him.
“Well, almost. I got the man—well, the man what cared enough to pay the ransom. And I got the girl and the money, just as we said. Wha
t more do ya want?”
Becca wanted to cry out, to do something, anything, to get out of the situation. What did Nash want her to do? She sent him an imploring look, but he shook his head almost indiscernibly, signaling her to remain calm. Standing with his usual perfect posture, she wondered how he could retain such composure.
If the kidnappers had any idea what Becca was thinking, they didn’t let on. Dolph curled his fingers at his partner, asking for the flask. He extended a fleshy hand. “Here, give me a swig o’ that. It’s been a long night, and I need a snout full.”
“There ain’t much left.” Mac relinquished the refreshment.
Dolph drank deeply and then wiped his mouth with his sleeve. He tilted the open flask toward Nash. Becca smelled the bitter odor of whiskey but didn’t flinch since she was accustomed to the stench, thanks to her father’s habits.
“I don’t care for any, thank you,” Nash responded with more politeness than the situation warranted.
“I wouldn’t be so picky if I was ye,” Dolph said. “Ya might not like the plain old corn liquor I got. Ye’re used to fancy French wine, I’ll wager.”
Despite his goading, Nash stood erect, and his expression didn’t waver.
“Whatever you take now will be your last.” He waved the flask in front of Nash’s nose.
“That’s right.” Mac laughed. He eyed Becca, his thin face reminding her of a scarecrow. “I notice the girl didn’t even bat an eye when she smelled our liquor. I thought society women turned up their noses at our humble beverages. Mebbe she drinks in secret. Mebbe she’d like a swallow.” He leaned toward her. “How’s about it, girl?”
Dolph protested. “What? I wouldn’t waste my liquor on any woman. Well, mebbe one or two o’ the wenches I know at the tavern, when I wants to put ’em in a good mood.” He winked, and Becca shuddered. She felt Nash’s body tense even though they weren’t close enough to touch one another.
The men pushed them into the buggy, which was soon on its way. She didn’t wonder why they didn’t bother to blindfold Nash and her. They had no plans for them to see the light of day again. To Becca, each second in time seemed to be an hour. Finally they came to a stop.
Dolph got out but held his body near the exit. “Get out.”
She obeyed and surveyed the location. The place Dolph had forced them to halt was so remote and forested that Becca knew screams would never be heard. She envisioned Dolph digging a shallow grave for their dead bodies and running off with Nash’s money. She studied the revolver. At least if he shot them, their deaths would be quick.
“Heavenly Father, save us!” Becca prayed aloud as her foot sank into muddy ground.
Dolph and Mac laughed in tipsy mirth. “She thinks God will help her now. I get tired of hearin’ her pray. Don’t ye?” Dolph nudged Nash with a force that made Becca jump.
“Never.” Nash pursed his lips, but the glint in his eyes gave Becca courage.
“Turn around,” Mac demanded.
“So you’re going to shoot us in the back. I might know men such as yourselves wouldn’t have the courage to face us in our moment of death.” Nash’s voice sounded harsh.
Moment of death? How could he be so calm? Yet he was every bit the man. The strong man she loved. The man with whom she wanted to spend the rest of her life.
If we die tonight, I will have gotten that wish. I will have spent the rest of my life with him.
Becca’s breathing had become pronounced. Couldn’t he take this chance to grab the gun? What did they have to lose? Death was certain if he didn’t do anything, but a bit less certain if he did. “Nash, please!”
The men chortled. “There’s nothin’ he can do fer ya now,” Mac insisted.
“That’s right,” Dolph agreed. “Men like him, they look down on people like us. For once, we got the upper hand.”
“And if ya want ta know the truth, I’m havin’ me a bit o’ fun with it all,” Mac admitted.
The smile on Dolph’s face looked nothing short of evil. “Ya were brave before, knockin’ the gun out o’ me hand, but I was alone then. Ya wouldn’t dare try anything like that, with it bein’ both of us. And if ya do, things will be worse for yer girl here.”
Too fearful to be ashamed by making a pleading gesture, Becca sent Nash the most puppy-eyed look she could muster, begging him to do something, anything. His glance went back and forth between the two men. Surely he was thinking. . . .
Without warning, Nash let out a whoop that could have awakened the dead and gave Mac a swift kick. In a flash he followed suit with Dolph. “Run, Becca!”
Becca wanted to remain and kick and punch the criminals as well, but she imagined her little blows wouldn’t accomplish much. Besides, if she ran fast enough, perhaps she could find help.
She wished she didn’t have to run from the scene in spite of realizing that was her best course of action. Desperately she wanted to know Nash would survive, yet to sacrifice her life when he had just done so much to save her would dishonor him. She rushed into the darkness. “Lord, I beg Thee to help us!”
The sound of a horse’s hooves beating on the path shocked her. Who could be out this time of night and in such a remote place? She stopped and looked at the path, then back at Nash. Dolph punched him in the gut while Mac held him.
Tears streaming down her face, Becca’s stomach churned, but as soon as the criminals heard the horse, they stopped beating Nash. Widened eyes told her they didn’t know how to react. They hadn’t expected anyone to ruin their plans. Becca was sure the horseman must have witnessed what he interrupted. Anticipating the stranger would keep her safe, Becca ran back toward the scene.
The rider drew close enough to be heard. “Stop! Stop right this instant!”
Becca’s hand clutched her throat when she recognized the sharp baritone. So uncertain was she that her voice quivered. “Father? Father, is that you?” How could it be, when they didn’t own a horse?
As soon as she uttered the words, the criminals panicked. One fired a shot at the horseman.
Becca’s hands shook as she sent them skyward. She screamed, “Father!”
Having escaped injury, Father jumped off the animal and ran toward the group. Dolph lifted his gun to shoot, but Nash charged him. Grabbing his opponent’s wrist, Nash was able to keep the gun from hitting its mark. Meanwhile, Father subdued a hapless and drunken Mac.
Becca feared they wouldn’t be able to keep the men under control long. In answer to silent prayer, she heard the sound of approaching horses.
“That’s the police,” Father told Dolph. “After me wife told me you stopped by, I summoned ’em before I came here.”
Nash and her father kept the criminals confined long enough for the police to arrive and take charge. After the police expressed their gratitude to Nash and her father for their bravery, they departed.
Becca hugged her father. “Thank you, Father! Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”
His mouth twisted in an unusual show of modesty.
“Father, I never guessed you would be my rescuer. Why, you were shot at, all for me. I can’t believe you would make such a sacrifice.”
Nash agreed. “Thank you, Mr. Hanham. If you hadn’t appeared the moment you did, I’m not sure what the outcome would have been. I don’t think I exaggerate when I say I owe you my life. I cannot express my gratefulness enough.”
“You can express it by takin’ care o’ me daughter.”
“Father!”
Nash laughed. “That’s quite all right, Becca. I intend to take care of you anyway. I can only hope our next trip to the milliner’s won’t prove so dramatic.”
Becca sent him a rueful smile. “Perhaps next time she can deliver the hats to our house.”
❧
“There you are!” Mother’s face relaxed with relief as Nash, Becca, and Father entered the noisy front room. “I was so worried. What happened?”
“Tell us! Tell us!” Naomi added amid the siblings’ pleas to hear about the advent
ure.
Father filled them in on the evening’s events. To Becca’s surprise, he didn’t exaggerate. Then again, they had such a close call that stretching the truth hardly seemed necessary.
“How terrible! Let me look at ya.” Mother did just that. “Oh, I’m so relieved ye’re safe and sound!”
“As am I,” Nash agreed. “But tell me, how did your husband know where we were?”
“Let me tell it,” Father said. “Yer driver, Jack, was at the pub. I could tell by the way he was braggin’ in front o’ me that he didn’t recognize me. But I sure recognized him. He was sayin’ that he was comin’ into some big money soon.”
“Wait, you say Jack was at the pub? Tonight?” Nash’s voice registered his surprise, then his disappointment.
Mr. Hanham nodded. “He said he had a couple o’ men collectin’ money fer him, but he’d be a rich man in a matter of hours.”
“Then no wonder he wasn’t there when I needed him,” Nash muttered, hurt evident in his voice. “He abandoned me deliberately.”
Father didn’t seem to hear Nash. “Bein’ a man o’ the world as I am, I decided I’d better figger out what Jack meant. I figgered he wouldn’t talk without a few drinks, so I engaged him in talkin’, tellin’ him he must be smart, and by plyin’ him with ale. It took awhile, but I finally got him to the place where he said he had a girl out in the woods near the old cemetery who was mighty valuable. I didn’t understand exactly what he meant, but I knew somebody was in danger. Then he said luck was with him and his friends. Without plannin’ it, they kidnapped his employer’s fiancée, and that gave ’em the chance to ask for a ransom. When he said that, I knew I had to do somethin’ fast.”
Becca held back a gasp.
“I ran home, not even finishin’ me ale, mind ya. I went to the smithy and gave him the promise of a dollar to let me borrow his horse so I could follow you, Mr. Abercrombie. He wouldn’t a let me have it, ’cept I told him ye’re a rich man and ye’d make good on it.” He paused and stared at Nash. “Ya will, won’t ya?”
Nash smiled. “Considering I came out of our adventure with the full amount of money and my life—plus the life of the only woman I’ve ever loved. . .” The look he sent Becca said it all. “I’d say I’d be happy to give the smithy ten times as much.”
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