by Ruby Duvall
She took the kerchief from her mouth. Something in her eyes gave him hope.
MacKenzie ordered the crew to prepare to weight their brandy cargo and Ryder pulled his eyes away from Samantha. The beach was yet half a mile away, still shrouded with the sickly haze.
A flash caught his eye.
“Look!” He pointed to where he had seen the light and it instantly reappeared. It was Kelter with their signal. The coast was clear.
MacKenzie slapped his hand on the ship’s rail. “I vow I shall kiss that man when next we meet.” The crew cheered at their good fortune. MacKenzie ordered them to stop their efforts to weight the cargo and instead prepare the tub-boats. When they were as close as possible to shore, he ordered them to drop anchor.
The crew worked quickly and gladly to offload the contraband, and though Ryder normally would have lent a hand, he refrained. Samantha was at a section of rail where she would not be underfoot and she watched the crew hasten to be off for Poole as soon as possible. He would be damned if he even turned his back to her.
“I’ll be riding with the first boat, MacKenzie.”
His friend grinned. “Will you tell Kelter that he can expect a beer from me?”
“What happened to the kiss you promised?” Ryder asked. MacKenzie chuckled. “Samantha will be coming with me.”
Her eyes shot to him. They were wide and held the obvious question. MacKenzie grumbled his agreement that she disembark sooner rather than later. Ryder walked to Samantha at the rail and trapped her with an arm on either side. He leaned close.
“You’re mad if you think I’ll let you out of my sight,” he whispered.
When the tub-boat was loaded, he went down first and plucked Samantha from the ship’s ladder when she was within reach. He and a crewman then rowed ashore.
On the beach, men appeared from behind dunes and beachside brush. They erupted with hurrahs as the boat hit sand and wasted no time unloading the contraband. Ryder scooped Samantha from the boat and waded up to dry sand where he set her down.
“Was damned worried, Ryder,” Kelter said. He smiled as they shook hands. “This fog is an ill omen, as the minister would say.”
“I don’t believe for a moment that you attend service, Kelter.”
“Miss Reed, always a pleasure.” He bowed his head at Samantha. “I had thought not to see you until Hounslow Heath, miss.”
“Didn’t Phillip tell you?” she asked.
“Yes, where is my brother, Kelter? I had thought to see him here.”
“Phillip, sir?”
Kelter’s confusion put a cold knot in Ryder’s stomach. “I sent him to meet you in Christchurch. Did he not arrive?”
“No sir. I’ve not seen him. I had no idea he was coming to Hampshire.”
Samantha put her hand on his arm. “Webb.”
Ryder clenched his hands. That cold knot was like ice in his gut.
Kelter cupped his hands around his mouth. “We’re in for a fight, boys! Are you going to let the preventatives take away your hard-earned pay?” The scores of men on the beach let out a cry, some brandishing their bats and others punching fists into the air.
Webb was the only explanation. If his letter to Phillip somehow hadn’t arrived or hadn’t been read, Phillip would have otherwise been at the packet bound for Le Havre. Ryder did not want to imagine in what condition his brother fared. He did want to take the nearest horse and ride to London, but he was to drive the last cart as far as Southampton and if he left Samantha behind…
Nearly an hour saw their contraband spirited away from the beach. He knew when the last tub-boat rowed ashore upon seeing Samantha’s bag and the trunk filled with French silk. Only Kelter and a couple of laborers were left to load it onto the cart. Ryder went to the crewman who waited to row the tub-boat back to the Westerly Wind.
The sailor nodded at him. “Captain MacKenzie bids you good luck, sir. He goes directly to Poole. God have mercy on us this day, he says.”
“Tell him he’s a brave sailor, and that Kelter eagerly awaits that kiss.”
“Yes sir,” the crewman said with a grin. The laborers helped him push the tub-boat off the sand and then drove the second-to-last cart away from the beach.
“You’ll see that the Westerly Wind sails onward?” Ryder asked of Kelter. His colleague tipped his hat.
“Aye, sir, though I should scout for the riding officers. I expected them to find us by now.”
“I pray this fog proves to be a boon. Even if Webb has Phillip, my brother does not know this coast as well as MacKenzie. He would not be an ideal guide.”
“Your brother will see through this, God willing. Good luck, Ryder.”
They shook hands. Ryder returned to the last cart and sat on the driver’s bench next to Samantha. She was quiet and her brow furrowed.
He slapped the reins and the horse walked them from the sandy, spiky grass at the edge of the beach. Another slap and it sped up to a trot. A moment later, they penetrated the tree line and followed the green path that avoided the main road.
Samantha broke the silence. “I know this won’t make you feel better, but maybe Phillip is with your father. Perhaps he…took a turn for the worse.”
“Phillip would have sent word that he would not be traveling to France.”
Her voice was soft. “I’m sure he’s fine.”
He knew she wished to calm him, but nothing short of seeing Phillip in front of him, unharmed and safe, would set his mind at ease.
Faint shouts reached them through the woods. If Ryder needed any further proof that Webb was ensnaring them in his net, this was it. He coaxed the horse into a canter. Samantha grasped her seat as the green path was even bumpier than the highways.
Her words were understandably shaky. “What’s happening?”
“If Webb has Phillip, then he knows approximately where we make landfall and has alerted the nearest preventative station. The riding officers would have enlisted the assistance of several dragoons.” Their ears were met with the echo of a gun discharging.
“What do we do?”
“If we’re lucky, the dragoons are vastly outnumbered.” The sounds of fighting grew louder as they caught up to the caravan of carts. “When I say to, get into the back of the cart and keep your head down.”
However, they would not meet the caravan. As though summoned by his thoughts, Phillip stepped onto the path.
“Phillip,” Ryder yelled. He yanked back on the reins. For a moment, his mind could not form a clear thought as relief swamped him. Phillip was unharmed, though he appeared quite exhausted. Why was he here?
Webb appeared several feet behind Phillip with a pistol in hand. Samantha gripped Ryder’s arm.
“I’m sorry,” Phillip said.
The customs officer sneered. “At long last, justice shall be served. Try to talk your way out of this one.”
“You accosted my courier and kidnapped my brother. What happened to your morality, Webb? Did you leave it in Le Havre with that French prostitute?”
Webb’s eyes bulged. “Y-you…”
“And now? You’ll confiscate the cargo and see us fined? What satisfaction is there in that? What reward? The contents of our cart alone would make you a much richer man.”
Webb only grew smug at Ryder’s attempt at bribery. He addressed Samantha without looking at her. “I had hoped not to see you, Miss Reed, but fate has decided that you shall witness your lover hanged.”
Samantha gasped. “No! Please, Mr. Webb, I beg you.”
“What authority do you have to pass judgment and what cause allows you to render such a punishment? The act of oblivion allows for—”
“We are past judgments, Mr. West, and I care not for the gentle treatment of smugglers when it best suits the crown. You are caught and your guilt cannot be questioned. If you resist, I shall be forced to shoot Miss Reed.” Webb’s pistol swung to point at Samantha.
Her voice was sorrowful. “You said you’d never direct that at me, Mr. Webb.”
>
The man ignored her. “Come down from there.”
Ryder descended and turned to help Samantha to the ground. Her breaths were shallow and her fingers shook as she reached for his outstretched hands. She met his eyes with more calm than he expected, but her layer of control was thin. He kept her close. Webb flicked his gun toward the trees. Phillip knew the way, it seemed, and led the pair of them deeper into the woods. Webb followed several paces behind.
“Where is he taking us?” Ryder whispered.
Phillip’s voice was hard. “To our execution.”
“Be silent,” Webb said.
Samantha stopped when they spied a horse through the trees—and the noose hanging from a branch above it. A sharp word from Webb and Ryder had to pull her along. She shook her head.
“Ryder, don’t let him—”
“Be brave, my love.”
Ryder knew Webb would hang Phillip first and that Webb would watch. Ryder could use the distraction to wrest away Webb’s pistol. Once the revenue officer was dead or unconscious, Ryder would cut Phillip down, hopefully before his brother choked to death.
“Stop,” Webb said. They stood a dozen paces from the horse. Phillip’s face was pale. Webb gave them a wide berth as he walked around to the horse’s head. “You.” He pointed his pistol at Phillip. “Mount the horse.”
His brother set his jaw and walked to the horse. Once he was seated, Webb swung his pistol back to Samantha. “Approach me, Miss Reed. Stop when I say and turn around.”
Ryder’s heart stopped. If she were between him and Webb, she would be shot before he could disarm Webb.
“Now, Miss Reed.” Samantha pulled from Ryder’s grasp and walked to Webb. He stopped her halfway and she reluctantly put her back to him. If he aimed to shoot her, she wouldn’t know.
Webb then ordered Phillip to drape the noose around his neck and tighten the knot. His brother shook. His wild eyes looked to Ryder for a miracle.
Samantha’s voice reached him. “Ryder, he might not shoot—”
“I will if I must. Be silent.” Webb took hold of the bridle. Phillip was panting.
“Maybe this is why I’m here, to give you this chance.”
“Be silent!”
“The locket could—”
It all happened at once. A gunshot thundered. The horse fled. Samantha screamed.
Fear like he had never known lanced through him.
Sam was so sure she had been shot—again—but she felt no pain and whirled around. Webb hit the ground face first. Wetness spread across the back of his brown coat. He gave a stifled moan.
Beyond his prone body was a very thin, old man with a smoking pistol. In the waist of his breeches was an identical pistol to the one he held. In his other hand was a lace kerchief. Part of his mouth was smeared with blood.
Ryder ran toward her.
“I’m fine. I’m okay! Help Phillip,” she pleaded. Ryder pivoted and ran to his brother. He ducked under Phillip’s frantically kicking legs and boosted him on his shoulders to relieve the weight on his brother’s neck.
The shooter was undoubtedly William West, Phillip and Ryder’s father. He was breathing with difficulty, but his eyes were cold and determined as he walked to Webb. The revenue officer was still breathing, but he didn’t resist when William took the pistol from his slack hand. Phillip managed to pull his head from the noose and Ryder set him down.
A coughing fit took William for a moment, and he wiped at the fresh blood on his lips. Even if he weren’t afflicted with tuberculosis, the fallout would kill him if he didn’t get inside soon. William put a boot to Webb’s arm and pushed him to his side. Webb shouted with pain.
“I’ll not let you kill my only son.” William’s words were wet as he spoke through the blood in his throat. He coughed again and his words became clearer. “I hoped you would hang Ryder first. How tragic it would have been to know you hanged your own child.”
“What?” Webb grunted.
“She hid the timing of her pregnancy well. Had she not revealed it was your son she had birthed, I might never have known and she might still be alive.”
Tears of pain and shock filled Webb’s eyes. “Elaine…” He struggled to look at Ryder, who was silent and frozen. Webb struggled to breathe. “I didn’t know. The last time I saw her, I…”
Sam couldn’t stay silent. “Why didn’t you marry her?”
Webb closed his eyes. His cheeks were wet. “Her family didn’t approve of a butcher’s son. Said they’d disinherit her.”
“But she didn’t care about that.” Sam thought her heart would break. How cruel it was that two people who loved each other were reduced to how advantageous the match was for their families.
“She…cried when I told her I didn’t want her. It was a lie.”
Phillip walked to his father. “How could you? She was nothing but kind to me.”
William looked at him with disgust. “Shut up, boy. She wasn’t your mother, and neither is he your brother. Where’s your loyalty? I’m your family!”
Ryder finally spoke. “You’re a monster.” His voice was coarse. His face was a mask of rage and pain. “You murdered my mother, hid me from my father and made me think your anger was my fault.”
“You’re nothing but a bastard,” William spat.
“You have no soul.” Ryder’s hands fisted.
“I should have strangled you too—”
“Your evil eats you from within,” Ryder shouted.
“A mistake I shall now rectify.” William raised Webb’s loaded pistol and aimed it at Ryder’s chest.
“Ryder!” Sam screamed.
Phillip grabbed his father’s wrist and wrenched it up. “Run,” he bellowed. William roared as he wrestled against his stronger son.
Sam couldn’t move. Her legs were like jelly. Ryder ran to her and grabbed her arm. “This way!” He wheeled her around and dragged her into the woods.
She nearly tripped on her skirt and had to hold it high to keep up with Ryder, though his iron grip on her arm ensured she’d come along no matter what. She looked over her shoulder to see if anyone was following but stumbled over a fallen branch. Ryder hauled her back to her feet.
“Where are we going?” she asked between pants.
Ryder was breathing hard too. And coughing. They couldn’t stay out in the haze for much longer. “We’ll circle around…back to shore. Kelter may still…be there.” They hadn’t driven the cart very far into the woods and soon ran clear of the trees. The tall seaside grass ended at the drop-off that sloped down to the beach.
The salamander sun loomed on the left.
“Almost there,” Ryder said. However, the drop-off was far higher and steeper than where they had made landfall. The cliff was sheer and fifty feet down. “Damn it to hell. Come on.” He pulled her a couple of steps along the precipice, but a hoarse yell stopped them.
“Stop!” Limping and gasping for air, William appeared from the trees. His thin hair stuck to his forehead and blood ran down his chin. His pistol was aimed at Sam. “Stop or…I will…shoot her.”
Ryder put her behind him.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Why pursue this, Fa—William? You shot the man who cuckolded you. You saved your son. The air is killing you.”
William approached and made a token effort to wipe his chin. “And let you turn King’s evidence?”
“You have little time left as it is. What use is it to silence me?”
“It’s you who has little time,” William said. “For over twenty years, I let you live. I believe that’s quite enough.”
A shot was fired. Ryder jumped.
“No!” Sam screamed. She wrapped her arms around him and prayed William’s aim was poor. When he didn’t sag in her arms, she looked around his shoulder.
William West lay dead in the grass. Webb and Phillip sat astride a horse just beyond the tree line, though not Webb’s horse. It must have been William’s.
Phillip held the disc
harged gun. He was crying.
Webb was behind Phillip on the horse and pitched to the side. Only his weak grip on Phillip’s arm kept him atop the horse.
Ryder pulled from Sam’s arms and ran past William’s body. He drew Webb from the horse and gently lowered him to the ground. Phillip dismounted as well, still staring mournfully at his father’s body.
Sam only heard snippets of Ryder’s conversation with his real father. “Not much time…am ashamed…” Webb’s skin was white as a sheet. He was dying.
She was compelled to look east at the blood-colored sun. She picked up her locket and flipped it over. The inscription read in large letters FLY.
All she had to do was leap and she’d be home.
The scorched scent in the air mixed with the smell of his father’s blood, which dripped through Ryder’s hands. His throat ached, his lungs burned, and the tears in his eyes blurred the sight of Webb’s colorless skin.
Webb’s voice was reed thin. “Ryder, I…not much time. Forgive me please. I shouldn’t…I am ashamed at the man I’ve become.”
Ryder didn’t know what to say. How could his heart change tack so quickly? How could they make up for the decades lost when so little time was left? He wanted to make Webb more comfortable, but he didn’t dare move.
“Why did you reject my mother?”
“Always regretted. Was afraid she’d…resent me. Should’ve had…more faith. I loved your mother.”
“And if you had known about me?”
Webb struggled for air. “Would’ve come for you. Would’ve…given you the love…that William didn’t.” His breaths were growing shallow. Tears spilled down his cheeks. “Oh God, Elaine…our son…”
Ryder’s voice broke. “Father…”
Samantha appeared next to him. Her skirt spilled over Webb’s legs as she knelt. Her hands slid under her hair to the back of her neck. She was taking off her locket.
His heart shot up as though attempting escape. “But what about—”
“I’ve made my choice,” she said. His breath caught. “So I don’t need this anymore.” Her resolve was clear. The locket came away and she leaned over Webb. “But maybe it can help him the way it helped me.” She clasped the chain around his father’s neck.