Ivy Ann set her mouth in a straight, unyielding line. Something peculiar must be happening where she’d left Laurel and she had to know what it was. She slid from the saddle while still a short distance from the site of Laurel’s accident and tied her horse to a tree, making sure the knots would hold. “Stay here and be quiet,” she ordered.
Dodging behind trees Ivy sneaked back, her heart pounding from exertion, fear, and caution. Low voices reached her. A spurt of gladness vanished when she peeped out from her sheltered position. She shoved her hand over her mouth to keep back a cry.
In the clearing before her Dan Sharpe was mounting a strong bay, and he had Laurel in his arms.
“They will track us.” Laurel’s faint words reached her twin’s straining ears.
“Not where we’re going.” Ivy hated Dan’s laugh. Rebellion rose in a wave of protest but she sensibly stayed out of sight. That’s what you think, she thought to herself. Her busy fingers jerked off the scarf she wore under her chin and methodically tore it into narrow strips. “Just like in the storybooks.” She grinned in spite of her worry and slipped back for her horse.
Step by careful step Ivy Ann followed the doubly burdened bay. When they reached the rocks and the horse ahead clattered on them, Ivy’s hope failed. “Dear God, now what?” A few minutes later the pampered girl who must now become resourceful managed to fashion pads for her own mount’s hooves of Sadie Brown’s worn tablecloth.
Ivy Ann listened hard to make sure she was still on the right trail. The distant crack of sturdily shod hooves on rock rewarded her and she swung back into the saddle, hot and tired but filled with the most satisfaction she had ever experienced. The next instant she bowed her head. “Thank you, God. I know You helped me think what to do.”
All afternoon she trailed her quarry from afar. She only caught glimpses now and then. To allow her horse to get too close to the bay could result in disaster if either whinnied.
Just when the drooping girl felt she couldn’t stay in the saddle one more minute, she heard Dan Sharpe’s “Whoa.” She straightened and stopped her horse. Again she tied him. Again she sneaked forward and peered out from cover like a ground squirrel from under a bush. Dan had dismounted and the open door of a rude shack bore witness he had reached his destination.
Ivy Ann crept closer. If only the shack had a window! She wormed her way around back and confronted a blank, weather-beaten solid wall. A little sob reached her throat and she backed toward the side of the cabin. Concern for Laurel overcame prudence. She stepped on a large dry pine cone and its disintegration came with a riflelike crack.
Strong hands fastened on her shoulders and whirled her around. “Who—what—?” Dan Sharpe’s mouth fell open but his grip didn’t diminish.
“Hello, Dan.” She jerked free in spite of the searing pain it cost her.
“Laurel? No, Ivy Ann. But—” He turned his head toward the shack. The next instant he had forced her ahead of him around the corner, onto the rotting porch and through the door of the shack.
Laurel sat on a blanketed cot, her injured ankle straight out before her. Her eyes darkened when Ivy Ann burst in with Dan just behind.
“Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t Ivy Ann?” Dan raged. “Some more of your smart tricks?” When neither girl replied he flung his hat onto a dirty table and wiped the sweat from his forehead. His smile slowly replaced the anger in his face but its chill roused more fear in Laurel than his accusations. She glanced at Ivy who had closed her eyes, swallowed convulsively, and then opened them with a disarming expression.
“Looks like you won the jackpot, doesn’t it, Dan?” Her rueful smile and the way she rubbed her aching shoulders made Laurel gasp as well as Dan. “Here we are. Now what?”
In the split second Dan’s gaze left her and traveled to Laurel, Ivy glanced around the cabin for a weapon. If this were a novel an old knife should be sticking in the wall. Even if she could find one, could she bring herself to stab Dan? She shuddered at the thought then steeled herself at the gloating in Dan’s eyes when he turned back to her. Laurel couldn’t help; anything done to free them must come from Ivy.
“Just what are your plans?” tore from her throat.
“I had planned to tie up my bride-to-be and go get a justice of the peace,” Dan responded.
Horror showed in Laurel’s face and in the heartbeat before Ivy Ann spoke a hundred thoughts thundered into her brain. For the first time in her life she had the chance to do something worthy. If it meant sacrificing herself to save Laurel, then she had no choice. Dear God, give me strength. Ivy clasped her hands in front of her in a demure pose. She glanced down then up through her lashes in the coquettish way she had done so often.
“You went to all this trouble just to marry me? Why, Dan, I’m flattered beyond belief.” She forced herself to smile and look around the cabin as if considering every spider web and speck of dust. “It isn’t the exact surroundings I’d have picked, but if people are in love, it doesn’t matter, does it?” All true, she soothed her protesting conscience. Her keen gaze hesitated on the untidy stack of cut branches near the rough fireplace then turned back to Dan. He must not know her plans. She proudly lifted her chin in the best Brown manner.
“Laurel, you will be my bridesmaid, won’t you?” She laughed into the two faces staring at her like white blobs and triumphed over her fear.
“No, oh no!” Laurel leaped to her feet without regard to her ankle then crumpled to the floor.
With an oath Dan sprang to lift her back on to the cot but not as quickly as Ivy Ann. With a silent cry to God for help she bounded the few steps toward the wood pile, snatched the strongest looking length of pine branch, raised it, and sent it crashing against the back of Dan Sharpe’s head.
He collapsed without a single cry as Laurel fell to the cot.
Chapter 13
Ivy Ann stood frozen to the dirty cabin floor, still clutching her weapon. A slight moan and movement showed she had not knocked Dan completely out, only stunned him. With wisdom born of prayer and desperation she ordered, “Quick, Laurel, we have to tie him.”
Laurel pushed back the nausea that had risen when she jumped to her feet and ignored her throbbing ankle. “Help me tear the blanket,” she cried. Four hands working as two rent the old blanket and Ivy Ann put the strips round and around Dan, tying strong knots where the pieces joined. By the time Ivy rolled him onto another cot and wound more blanket strips to pinion him exhaustion threatened her.
“You’d better look at the damage you did to his head.” Laurel’s faint reminder sent her twin into hysterical giggles that ended with healing tears.
“A big bump but it didn’t break the skin,” Ivy said after examining Dan. She shrank back when he blinked and opened his eyes. Even in anger there had been a certain respect. Now hatred made him more dangerous than ever.
“I’ll get even,” he threatened. With mighty efforts he fought against his bonds. They didn’t give as the twins had feared they might. But his struggles and twistings accomplished a lot more than he expected. Stubbornly refusing to admit defeat at the hands of two young women, Dan tipped over the cot and landed on the floor. The force of his fall broke the cot free from the moldy wall where it had been attached.
“Look!” Laurel pointed at the gaping hole exposed just under where the cot had come free. “A hiding place.”
“Don’t touch than!” Dan lost control and for the first time fear mingled with his anger.
It was too late. Ivy Ann had already grabbed the contents of the niche and carried it to the tottery table. She threw open the mouth of one of the sacks. Money spilled out. Bills, gold coins, and eventually the incrimination papers lettered Rock Springs Bank were all there.
“Well, Mr. Bank Robber. It looks like you’ll have more to face than abducting Laurel.” Ivy Ann’s contempt was thick enough to cut.
Game to the very end, Dan merely smirked. “You can’t prove anything.”
“You had a reason for coming to th
is cabin, Dan,” Ivy reminded.
Dan managed a shrug in spite of his position on the floor. He shifted his weight and growled. “Help me up, will you?”
It took all Ivy Ann’s remaining gumption to right the cot then she faced him squarely. “Dan, if Laurel and I tell the ranchers what you tried to do today they’ll hang you.” She shuddered and some of her fearlessness left. “If you confess to the bank robbery it will mean prison but not death. Which do you choose?”
Dan’s jaw dropped in amazement. A flicker of something neither twin had ever seen in him surfaced into his eyes. “You mean you’ll say nothing if I admit to the robbery?”
Ivy Ann turned to Laurel who nodded. “You have our word.”
“But why?” Dull red marred the tan skin, the red of shame before such generosity. “I’d think you—”
Ivy took a long, deep breath. “If this had happened a few months ago in West Virginia only Laurel would have spared you. After she left, and especially since I came out here, I’ve learned that a child of God cannot harbor hatred, no matter what.” She spread her hands wide. “Dan, letting you off even when I boil inside to think how you might have actually forced Laurel into marriage—” She choked then determinedly went on. “It’s for my sake as well as yours.” Understanding lit up her face. “No, it isn’t! It’s for Jesus’ sake.”
An indiscernible murmur came from Dan. He ceased fighting and sagged against the blanket ropes. “You sound just like Preacher Birchfield.” Astonishment still filled his face. “You and he would make a real pair.”
Ivy Ann couldn’t keep the hot color from her cheeks. If she had been honest, she’d have retorted, “I think so, too,” but pride sealed her lips.
Laurel’s anxious reminder switched her thoughts back to the present and away from some vague future possibility. “What are we going to do now?”
Ivy Ann looked at her then at Dan. With a lithe movement she stepped closer to the old cot and looked down on him. “If I untie you will you give me your word of honor you won’t try to run or hold us here in any way? That you will confess you robbed the Rock Springs bank?”
“Ivy!”
Laurel’s shocked cry didn’t change her twin. “Will you?” she repeated.
The tawny eyes blinked. “You’d take my word for it?”
“If you swear to do what I say.” She staked her claim on the good Thomas Brown had taught her was in every man, often hidden but there.
“I swear.” The husky words brought relief to Ivy’s tense body.
“Do you have a knife?”
“In my belt.” Dan acted dazed by the turn of events.
“We made them pretty tight,” Ivy matter-of-factly stated as she began hacking away at the confining strips. When she finished, she felt relief at having come through the ordeal without real harm and a fervent prayer left Ivy’s heart. One day, with God’s help, Dan Sharpe might accept Jesus and leave the life he had embraced in this wild country.
Ivy dropped into an old chair. “Now all we have to do is wait until help comes.” She stared out the open door, dreading the night that must pass before a rescue party arrived.
Some of Dan’s sardonic humor remained. “No rescue party can find this place. Remember all the rocks we came over?” He looked down at his hands, still showing faint red streaks where Ivy had imprisoned him tightly.
“Oh, they’ll come. I dropped pieces of my scarf all along the way,” she told him confidently.
“Well, I’ll be!” Dan threw back his head in the same way as Nat and Adam Birchfield. His laughter rang through the little cabin and the twins couldn’t help joining in. Bank robber, would-be bridegroom, and rascal he might be, but that clean laugh brought back pleasant memories of when he had squired first Laurel and then Ivy Ann.
Long after Ivy Ann had served a sandwich supper supplemented by the few stores in the shack, a naughty wind wakened, came to life, and howled its protest for miles around. It left only after greedily claiming the torn scarf markers Ivy Ann had so carefully left on the trail.
All day Adam had been restless. For some unexplainable reason few patients claimed his time and by late afternoon he restlessly paced the floor of his small office.
“What’s troubling you?”
Nat’s voice from the open doorway stopped Adam. “Just thinking. Probably too much.” He took another turn.
“About Laurel Brown.” Nat’s dark eyes offered sympathy.
Adam stared unseeingly out the window then glanced back at Nat. “Why didn’t she tell me? You’ve been with her lately.” He hoped Nat hadn’t caught the bitterness in his tone.
“I’ve thought about it even though she hasn’t told me any more than you know,” Nat confided.
Adam’s heart beat faster. Relief nudged aside his still smoldering resentment at being made to look like a fool. Nat didn’t sound as if he had fallen in love with Laurel.
Nat’s fine features clouded. “Perhaps much of it goes back to always being in her sister’s shadow.” His gaze met his brother’s frowning look. “Remember, she never—according to you—claimed to be Ivy Ann. You just assumed it.”
“But she should have told me when I told her I—I—when we discussed certain things,” Adam protested. Fresh disappointment pressed heavily into his soul. “She didn’t lie but her silence consented to the deception.”
“The one thing she ever said that gave me a clue was simply to relate what you once told her about hating deception more than anything on earth.” Nat stepped inside, closed the door, and spoke boldly. “I believe Laurel cared so much for you that she followed you out here, felt cut to the heart when you mistook her for Ivy Ann, and grew terrified that you’d despise her when you learned the truth. I also think she hoped you would grow so close that you could forgive her once she found the courage to confess.”
Adam listened silently, wanting to believe.
“I don’t want to preach, but how many times has our Heavenly Father forgiven us when we’ve stumbled and been afraid or when we’ve made bad decisions?” For a moment his mouth twisted. “Adam, don’t ever be like Father, miserable in Concord with his two sons thousands of miles away because of his unforgiving spirit.” He laid one hand on his brother’s shoulder and Adam felt he’d been given a blessing.
“Thanks, old man.” His hand clasped Nat’s. To break the quivering moment he added, “I’ve been coming to that conclusion. Just one thing.” He paused and tightened his hold on Nat’s hand. “Do you care about Laurel?”
“Very much.” Mischief sparkled in Nat’s dark eyes. “But I’m not in love with her. Someday, God and Ivy Ann willing, we may be brothers-in-law as well as brothers!”
A knock on the outside office door came simultaneously and Dr. Adam Birchfield found himself extremely busy for the next few hours.
Dark had encroached when a loud knocking sent Adam and Nat both to the door. Thomas Brown strode in without waiting for an invitation. His agitation showed with every jerky sentence.
“The twins didn’t come home. We didn’t think anything at first. They’d planned to spend the day and they know the country as far as they were going. Then Laurel’s horse came in just a little bit ago. The boys rode out but it’s too dark to find out anything. They’re still out and we thought it would be good to have you at the ranch—both of you—just in case….” His voice trailed off.
Nat and Adam sprang to attention and a few minutes later pounded down the pale moonlit road behind Thomas. Adam longed to leave the others and plunge off to the rescue but he restrained himself. He didn’t know the country as well as those already searching, and if, no, when, the twins came in he must be at the Double B.
One by one the groups returned. Lanterns bobbed from horses’ backs in a weird yellow glow that competed with the feeble moonlight. Rising wind and dancing shadows made searching impossible until morning. Somehow they lived through it, the Browns, who had faced and conquered similar fears all during the War Between the States, and the Birchfields, bonded
closer than ever by their love for Laurel and Ivy Ann. Now and then one attempted to reassure the others by commenting on how trailwise the twins had become. For the most part, each kept a silent and prayerful vigil and thanked God the night stayed warm despite the screeching wind.
“At least there’s two of them,” said Hardwick, who had come immediately when summoned by one of the Double B hands. “We’ll find them in the morning all curled up together and just waiting for us to bring breakfast.”
But his prophecy was doomed from the start. Before morning the wind changed to rain and washed out the tracks needed to follow the twins.
Adam impatiently waited for dawn’s gray light with a prayer for his own stubbornness following his petitions to God to be with them. First to be ready and mounted, he looked down in disbelief when pale but calm Nat stopped him from heading out in the direction the twins had first taken the morning before.
“Adam, you can’t do a thing the hands can’t.”
Protest and denial rose in his throat but Nat never let him speak.
“Listen, the only one I know who might still find some sign after the rain is Chief Grey Eagle or Running Deer. Ride as fast as you can and ask for their help. They will never forget their debt to you for saving Running Deer.” He gripped Adam’s hand. “Ride as if life depended on it but still use care in the high and treacherous places.”
Adam never remembered much of his ride to the Indian village. Filled with fear and worry, he scarcely saw the trail except as a hurdle that must be leaped so Laurel and Ivy Ann could be saved.
Cries of gladness greeted his arrival. He sprang from the back of his sweaty horse to greet his friends. All looked well and he rejoiced at the way Chief Grey Eagle’s dead black eyes lighted. He quickly sketched the crisis: the lost young women, the wind and rain, the loss of all tracks.
“Running Deer will go.” Grey Eagle gestured and in moments fresh horses stood ready. “Grey Eagle’s eyes grow old but his son’s are new like the morning.”
“Thank you.” Adam blinked hard. Not a question, not a second of hesitation, just the sending of his son. How like another Father who sent His Son to help save the lost!
Wildflower Harvest: Includes Bonus Story of Desert Rose Page 12