So Little Time

by Al Lacy

  Inside the barn, McClain Reardon stood with an arm around a quietly sniffling Rya Garrett, holding her close to him, and speaking to her in soft tones.

  “That’s better, girl,” Booth said curtly. “Now, just keep it quiet like that. Any more outbursts, and you’re gonna make me mad. Believe me, girl, you don’t want to make me mad. Abe Lincoln made me mad, and you know what happened to him.”

  With all of her little girl might, Rya was trying to keep her emotions in control, but she slipped from McClain’s arm and crumpled to the straw-covered floor. Lying on her side, she pulled her shaking legs up close to her heaving chest and wrapped her arms tightly around them.

  Still only sniffling, tears streamed down her ashen face, and her entire body jerked with fright.

  McClain knelt beside her under the glaring eyes of Booth, and laid a tender hand on her shoulder. Although nearly as frightened as she was, he said, “It’s going to be all right, Rya. The Lord will take care of us.”

  A sneer formed on Booth’s face at the mention of the Lord. He glanced over his shoulder at Herold, who was still at the window, looking toward the house. “Shut up about that religious stuff!” said Booth. “I don’t want to hear it.”

  “John!” came Herold’s tight voice. “It’s the troops! Here they come!”

  7

  MCCLAIN HELPED RYA TO HER FEET, and held her tight in his arms. Trembling, she laid her head on his chest and clung to him.

  John Wilkes Booth limped to the next window from where Herold stood and peered out into the moonlit yard. Four uniformed men, guns in hand, were just drawing up behind a hay wagon that stood some twenty yards from the barn.

  Booth cursed and cocked the rifle.

  “I only see four, John,” said Herold.

  “Yeah, but there have to be others we don’t see.”

  “What’re we gonna do?”

  “Stick with our plan, that’s what we’re gonna do.”

  Outside at the hay wagon, Lieutenant Edward Doherty and the three men with him looked intently at the barn, studying the moon-sprayed windows.

  Suddenly, Sergeant Boston Corbett whispered, “Look, Lieutenant! There’s someone at that window next to the barn door.”

  “Just as I thought,” said Doherty. “They’re in there, all right.”

  “Lieutenant!” whispered a corporal. “There’s someone at that next window, too.”

  Doherty holstered his revolver and cupped his hands around his mouth. “John Booth! David Herold! We know you’re in there! This is Lieutenant Edward Doherty, United States Army! We have the bam surrounded! Come out right now with your hands in the air!”

  Booth’s voice came back in a defiant scream. “We’re not coming out! You know we have these two kids with us! If you don’t do as I tell you, we’ll kill them!”

  Doherty did not reply.

  “You hear me!” said Booth. “We want you to bring two of your horses up here to the double doors and leave them! Then take your men and ride outta here immediately! If anyone follows us, we’ll kill Rya and McClain! If we make a clean getaway, we’ll leave the kids on a farm somewhere, unharmed.”

  Doherty called back, “You mean like you left President Lincoln at Ford’s Theatre unharmed?”

  There was dead silence for a moment, then Booth shouted, “I mean it! If you don’t leave us those two horses and ride outta here right now, we’ll kill both of these brats!”

  Inside the barn, Rya let out a tremulous whimper.

  Booth looked back. “Shut up that noise, girl! Right now!”

  McClain whispered, “Rya, stay as quiet as you can. Let’s move back a little.” Even as he spoke, he guided her into a shadowed corner next to a horse stall. Rya could hear the thumping of her own heart.

  Lieutenant Edward Doherty’s voice came back, edged with indignation. “Booth! If either or both of those children are harmed in any way, you and Herold will never live to see the sunrise! This is no idle threat!”

  David Herold turned toward his friend. His body shook slightly and his voice was unsteady. “John, maybe we should give it up while we’re still alive.”

  Booth turned from the window and gave Herold a puzzled look. “What’re you talking about, giving it up?” Rifle in hand, he began pacing the moonlit barn floor, limping on his bad leg. “I just need time to think, here. There has to be a way out.”

  Herold began pacing with him, his body shaking the more. “Well, I can’t think of a way, John. You’d better come up with something quick, or they’re gonna storm this place.”

  “No, they’re not!” snapped Booth as they passed each other, pacing. “They won’t do that as long as those kids are in here. But that doesn’t get us out. There has to be a way to make them do what I told them!”

  “They aren’t gonna bring us horses, John. We’ve gotta come up with something else.”

  “I’m not so sure,” said Booth. “Just let me think.”

  Herold continued to argue with Booth, insisting they come up with something entirely different. Booth argued back, his temper rising.

  While the fugitives were totally engrossed in their predicament and the solution, McClain pulled Rya back a little deeper into the shadows. Still holding her tight, he whispered, “I’ve got to get you out of the barn before those beasts harm you.”

  “But how?” she asked in a whisper. “McClain, they’ll kill us both if they catch us!”

  “I’ve been forming a plan. Please trust me on this, Rya. Having played around this barn with Saul all of these years, I know it like the back of my hand. There’s a window at the rear of the barn, behind the wall where the grain bins are, right?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “It is locked from the inside like those windows over there, right?”

  “Yes.”

  Booth and Herold were arguing heatedly, and at the same time, Lieutenant Doherty’s demanding voice was filtering into the barn.

  “Well, now’s the time,” said McClain. “They’re completely occupied with their problem. Let’s go.”

  Rya swiped a sleeve across her face, ridding it of tears. She tentatively nodded her head.

  At the house, Laura, Jack, Ella, and Saul were huddled on the back porch with Richard, who had them out of the line of fire in case shooting should take place. Nerves were taut, faces were stiff, and bodies were rigid.

  They could hear Doherty shouting at Booth, and the muffled sounds of Booth’s indignant replies.

  Richard was at the edge of the wall, peering around the corner and watching the scene at the barn by the bright moonlight. “Lieutenant Doherty and three men are over there at the hay wagon. I saw the three other soldiers go behind the barn.”

  Laura, Jack, Ella, and Saul were clustered in a tight knot. Tears were coursing down the mother’s cheeks as she felt her children trembling. Please, dear God, she said in her heart, spare Rya and McClain. They both belong to You. Don’t let anything happen to them!

  Laura’s thoughts raced back to the day Rya was born. She was my easiest delivery, she thought. She entered the world squalling, at the top of her lungs, her pinched little face as red as her hair. She has always been so full of questions and so eager to learn. That’s why she was saved at such a young age. God has blessed her with such a tender heart and a sweet spirit. Oh, she has tried my patience at times, with her persistent ways, but she is a little bundle of love and such a joy to this family.

  Laura bit her lower lip as the scalding tears flooded down her face.

  Please, dear Lord … please! Keep my baby girl safe. Let her live! Use her life to glorify You. Oh, God, I know Your grace is always sufficient. Help me to draw on that now, and to trust You explicitly as I should. And please take care of McClain. Such a sweet boy. He’s so devoted to You. Just do what You have to do, dear Lord … but get them out of this awful thing safely! Let those two men be captured, and—

  “Mama,” came Ella’s quivering voice, “Jesus won’t let Rya and McClain be killed, will He? We prayed before w
e came outside that He wouldn’t.”

  While Laura was attempting to speak past the lump that was in her throat, Richard cupped Ella’s chin in his hand. “The Lord is going to protect Rya and McClain, sweetheart.”

  Swallowing the lump, Laura said, “That’s right, honey. Our wonderful God will protect them.”

  Saul sniffed and wiped tears from his cheeks. “If anything happens to McClain, his parents will hate me.”

  Richard laid a hand on Saul’s shoulder and squeezed it.

  Trembling, Jack thought of how much he loved his little sister. Tears trickled down his face as he said, “I wish those vile men had taken me instead of Rya.”

  Laura patted his cheek.

  Lieutenant Doherty could be heard shouting warnings at the fugitives, with Booth’s stubborn replies coming from inside the barn.

  Frustrated beyond endurance, Richard moved back to the corner of the house and looked toward the scene. “Maybe the Lord wants me to get in on this. I shouldn’t have let Doherty talk me into staying here at the house. I’m going to get my rifle and go out there!”

  “Please don’t, honey,” said Laura, moving to him. “There could be a lot of gunfire going on out there any minute. The children and I don’t want to lose you. We’ve asked God to take care of Rya and McClain. You just told Ella He would. Let the soldiers do their job, as Lieutenant Doherty said.”

  Richard looked back at the moonlit scene at the barn again. “Something’s got to be done, Laura. This can’t go on much longer. If bullets fly, those children could be in real trouble.”

  “There are seven against two,” Laura said evenly. “God can use the seven to get the two. Please don’t go and make yourself a target.”

  Richard looked deep into the eyes he loved so dearly and sighed. “All right. But Laura, if something doesn’t happen soon, I’m going to make it happen!”

  Richard felt a small hand squeeze his arm, and looked down into Ella’s tear-dimmed eyes. He felt a lump rise in his throat and gathered her into his arms.

  The three soldiers at the rear of the barn were bellied down behind a water trough, guns ready. Suddenly they heard a squeaking sound, and all three tensed up.

  “It’s the window!” whispered Corporal Len Courtney. “Somebody’s opening it!”

  All three rifles were instantly trained on the window.

  McClain saw moonlight flash on a gun barrel. “I’m McClain Reardon, and I have Rya Garrett with me!”

  As the three soldiers dashed up to the window, Lieutenant Doherty could be heard at the front of the barn making commands for the fugitives to send the children out, then come out themselves.

  McClain lifted Rya up and eased her through the window. Corporal Len Courtney leaned his rifle against the barn and took Rya into his arms. McClain climbed out himself.

  Noting the quiver of her tense young body and seeing the wide stare in her eyes, Courtney said, “It’s all right now, sweetie. No one is going to hurt you.”

  Rya saw McClain draw up between the other two soldiers as the voices of the fugitives still filtered from the front side of the barn, arguing between themselves.

  The little redhead gave the corporal a lopsided grin. “Thank you for coming to our rescue.”

  “You are very welcome,” said Courtney, easing her down on her feet.

  Rya’s knees were a bit weak, and they buckled a little. Courtney kept his hand on her shoulder until he felt her stance become steady.

  “You all right?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir. I’m a little weak, but I’m fine.”

  “Good,” said Courtney. “Take her to the house, son. Quickly. Make a circle over there by those trees, and stay in the shadows. I don’t think they can see that part of the yard from those windows, but if you’re in the shadows till you get near the house, I know they can’t.”

  “Yes, sir. I want to thank all three of you for your help.”

  “Our pleasure,” said one of the other soldiers. “Now, go!”

  As the children were running toward the house, Corporal Len Courtney said, “You two stay here and keep an eye on that window. I’ll go let the lieutenant know that the kids are out of the barn and safe with their parents.”

  On the back porch, Richard was holding Laura, Ella, and Saul in his arms as they wept and prayed together. Jack was at the corner, keeping an eye on the scene at the barn.

  Jack was looking at the four soldiers who stood behind the hay wagon, when movement in the shadows beneath the trees off to his right caught his eye. He focused on the two shadowed figures and could tell that they were running. When they appeared plainly at the edge of the shadows in the mottled moonlight, he recognized them.

  “Mama! Papa!” he said in a hoarse whisper. “It’s Rya and McClain!”

  Richard and Laura, accompanied by Ella and Saul, dashed to the edge of the porch. At the same instant, the pair came out of the shadows and made a beeline for the porch.

  Tears of apprehension suddenly turned into tears of joy as Rya and McClain bounded up onto the back porch and the family gathered them into their arms.

  After at least a full minute of hugging and subdued voices praising the Lord, Richard wiped tears and said to the pair, “How did you get out?”

  Everybody listened intently as McClain explained how they made their escape.

  “McClain saved my life!” exclaimed Rya, keeping her voice low. She turned and hugged him.

  McClain held her close and patted her back.

  Laura wrapped her arms around McClain. “You precious boy! There is no way I can ever thank you for risking your own life to save my daughter’s!”

  McClain drew back a little in her embrace so he could look into her eyes. “Mrs. Garrett, Rya is a very special little girl. I had to take the risk to get her out of there.”

  Rya beamed up at him, her heart aglow. “McClain, you’re my hero.”

  The boy blushed and hugged her again.

  Inside the barn, Booth and Herold were still pacing fitfully, each in his own thoughts. Lieutenant Doherty’s voice filled the night, warning them of the consequences if they didn’t give it up and come out.

  Booth stopped pacing and rubbed his left thigh. “Dave, I’ve got it.”

  Herold halted, facing his friend. “I’m listening.”

  “Our only hope is to take those kids out with me holding this rifle to Rya’s head. We’ll demand two revolvers and make them all throw the rest of their guns down and ride away. Then we’ll force Garrett to hitch his team to the wagon so you and I can drive away, holding the revolvers on the kids.”

  “It’s the best idea yet,” said Herold. “With guns on those kids, we’ll be in control of the situation. Let’s do it.”

  Booth looked toward the dark corner where he had last seen Rya and McClain. “Okay, you two. Come out here.”

  When there was no response or sound of movement, Booth’s anger flared. His flushed face was like a marble mask. “You two get out here right now!”

  Dead silence.

  Mumbling a curse in a low voice, Booth limped toward the corner with Herold following. When they drew up, Booth ran his eyes back and forth in the shadows. “They’re not here!”

  “Well, they’ve gotta be somewhere in the barn,” said Herold. “You wait here. I’ll find them.”

  Just as Herold turned to begin his search, Doherty’s voice boomed from outside, “Booth! Herold! Come out! Your hostages are safe now! They’re at the house with their family!”

  Herold gasped, looking toward the double doors. “He’s lying!” Even as he spoke, he dashed past the stalls and headed toward the rear of the barn.

  Seconds later, he returned to Booth, his face gray. “He wasn’t lying, John. Those kids escaped through a window in the back of the barn. I saw more soldiers out there.”

  John Wilkes Booth swung the rifle carelessly, eyes bulging with hatred for the soldiers, and mumbled heated words Herold couldn’t understand. When he stopped to take a breath, Herold said, “Jo
hn, we don’t have a chance. We might as well give up.”

  “Booth! Herold!” roared the lieutenant. “I want you out here right now! We don’t want to kill you! Give it up so we don’t have to!”

  Ignoring Doherty’s words, Booth looked at Herold. “Give up? No way! I still have this rifle. We aren’t done for yet!”

  “We can’t fight that many men with one gun! Give it up!”

  “What’s the matter with you? Don’t you know what they’ll do to me if I give up? You’ll only go to prison for the rest of your life, but they’ll hang me! They’d like nothing better than to hang me in public right in front of the White House with thousands of people laughing and jeering! No way, Dave! No way! I tell you, we can make it. I just need more time to think.”

  Herold looked down at his hands, clasped in a tight ball of fear. “It’s over, John. I’m giving myself up.”

  Before Booth could utter a word, Herold hurried to the double doors and opened them a crack.

  “Dave!” hissed Booth. “You fool! Come back here!”

  Herold turned and looked at his friend who stood in the moonlight that streamed through the windows. The moon struck Booth’s eyes, reflecting a gleam that was full of lunacy.

  Without comment, Herold widened the opening and shouted, “Lieutenant! It’s David Herold! I give up! I’m coming out! I’m unarmed! Don’t shoot!”

  Four guns were trained on Herold from behind the hay wagon as he stepped out, his empty hands held high over his head.

  “Come over here,” commanded Doherty.

  While Herold was making his way toward the wagon, Booth’s voice boomed. “Dave Herold, you dirty coward! You dirty coward!”

  As Herold drew up to the wagon and moved around where the soldiers stood with their guns pointed at him, Doherty asked, “What kind of weapons does Booth have?”

  “Just Garrett’s rifle,” Herold replied in a broken voice. “And it is definitely loaded.”

  The lieutenant nodded. “Okay, men. Tie him up like I told you.”

  Two of the soldiers seized Herold, took him to a nearby tree, and tied him to it.