From This Day Forward

by Margaret Daley

  Finally the kidnapper shook Ben off him, the child landing in a heap at their feet. Rachel glanced at the boy to make sure he was all right, then brought her fist back and swung it at the man’s stomach. He doubled over.

  Ben struggled to his feet and jumped on his back again while Rachel’s booted foot connected with the man’s shin. A guttural groan echoed through the glade, followed by barking and Jasper loping out of the thick vegetation, straight at the kidnapper. The wolfhound latched onto the man’s arm, sending him to the ground.

  “Git him off,” the kidnapper yelled.

  John appeared with Patrick next to him. John whistled, and Jasper released the man’s arm and backed away a few feet, growling, his whole body alert.

  Rachel rushed to Ben and hugged the boy to her. “Are you all right? Did he hurt you?”

  He pressed himself against her for a moment. “I am all right.” Then he moved away, darting his glance to John and Patrick.

  John yanked the kidnapper to his feet. “You have some explaining to do before we take you to the constable.”

  Patrick positioned himself within inches of the man. “Starting with why you took the boy?”

  Hours later, Rachel sat in the chair before the fireplace, staring at the blaze, seeing the orange and yellow flames dancing about the logs as though they were drawing her toward them. Numbness still clung to her body, briefly overriding the deep ache from the bruises and cuts of her encounter with the kidnapper—still nameless because the man refused to say a word, even when Patrick and John threatened bodily harm. She was never so glad to see a person leave as that man, escorted to Charleston by the two men.

  Rachel finally tore her gaze away from the fire and scanned the main room for Ben, who had planted himself on the staircase to the loft and not moved in hours. A war of emotions had played across his face since his rescue, with a pensive look finally settling into place.

  A niggling in the back of her mind grew, demanding her attention. Ben knew the man. She had seen it on both of their faces before she had spoken in the glade. So why hadn’t the child told them who the kidnapper was? Ben had said few words, other than he had been leaving the barn when the man grabbed him. He insisted he did not know why.

  Nathan and Maddy left the second bedchamber. The expression on their faces offered Rachel hope that Mr. Baker would make it. She rose. “Is he still doing all right?”

  “He is hanging on. I removed the ball, so now we have to pray no infection sets in.” Nathan walked to a bowl and poured water into it to wash his hands.

  “It will not if I have anything to do about it,” Maddy said and then used the liquid in the pitcher to rinse the blood from her own hands.

  Maddy hadn’t left Mr. Baker’s side from the beginning. She had insisted on helping Nathan any way she could while Rachel was left to deal with the children and seeing John and Patrick off with the kidnapper in tow and Jasper trotting next to them. Emma had finally fallen asleep on Rachel’s bed about an hour ago, with Faith in the cradle next to her.

  “Mr. Baker ain’t goin’ t’ die, is he?” Ben asked in the quiet that had descended.

  “Don’t know yet. Time will tell,” Nathan said in a serious tone.

  “I heard him yell.” Ben’s eyes swam with tears.

  “It hurts to remove a ball. But he is sleeping now.” Nathan rose. “I am going to check the barn and animals. I noticed the pig had her babies in the middle of all this commotion.”

  “Oh, I forgot about that.” Rachel moved toward the food. “Maddy, you sit with Mr. Baker. I shall take care of preparing something for supper. Tomorrow I think we should make a soup. Mr. Baker may want something to eat by then.” She doubted he would wake before morning. His body had been through a trauma and still had a long battle ahead.

  At the door, Nathan glanced at Ben. “Come help me. You can bring back any eggs we collect.”

  Ben trudged toward Nathan. “I am going to miss Jasper. Liberty probably is lonely out there by hisself. Can I sleep in the barn too?”

  Nathan stepped outside. “I think it would be better to let Liberty sleep up at the house. We need to teach him how to be a guard dog.”

  “Can he sleep in the loft with me?”

  With the door closing behind Ben, Rachel did not hear Nathan’s reply, but she suspected the dog would be in the loft with Ben tonight. She would not be surprised if they became inseparable. Ben needed something like that, because he still had not fully accepted her and Nathan or trusted them. What is he keeping from us?

  Emma appeared in the entrance of Rachel’s bedchamber, rubbing her eyes. “Where is Ben?”

  “He went to the barn with Nathan. How do you feel?”

  “Scared.”

  Rachel spanned the distance between them and drew Emma toward the staircase, where Rachel sat so they were on the same eye level. “Why, honey? The bad man is gone. You saw him leave with Mr. McNeal and Mr. Stuart for Charleston. He will not be bothering Ben or you again.”

  “Promise?”

  “Yes. He is in serious trouble and will spend a long time in jail.”

  “Very bad man.”

  “Do you know him?”

  Emma dropped her head and didn’t say anything for a long moment. “He took my brother. He killed my pa.”

  “He did? Did you see it?”

  The child looked up at Rachel. “No, Ben tolded me.”

  “When?”

  “After y’all came back from the swamp.”

  “How did he know?”

  Emma shrugged. “The man tolded him?”

  “That was probably it.” Or was it? “I could use some help. I hear Faith making noises. Can you play with her while I fix supper?”

  The girl’s eyes brightened with the first smile Rachel had seen in hours from her. “Yes.”

  As Emma went into the bedchamber to pick up Faith from the cradle, Rachel remained seated on the stairs, watching the girl hold her daughter and hug her, whispering words to her that Rachel could not hear. Her heart swelled at the sight. The constable had told Nathan if no relatives could be found she could keep Ben and Emma. She wanted that. They needed someone to love them and care for them. She had a feeling there had been little of that in their lives.

  “Do you want to talk about what happened today?” Nathan asked after picking up the last piglet and checking it over.

  “Nothin’ to say.” Ben scuffed his shoe into the dirt in the stall where the pig and her babies were staying.

  “ ’Tis all right if you were scared. I was.”

  “You were?”

  “Sure. I was scared something would happen to you or Rachel. I was afraid Mr. Baker would not make it back to the house for me to remove the ball from his shoulder.”

  “So was I.” Ben stared at the ground. “Especially in the swamp with that man.”

  “He didn’t say anything about why he took you?”

  Ben shook his head.

  “That is strange.”

  “Could have wanted me to work for him?”

  “You think that was it?”

  Ben nodded. “Yes, that has got to be it.”

  “I wonder what kind of work.”

  “Farm work. I have been doin’ a good job here. He has been watchin’, so he would know that.”

  “He said he has been watching?”

  “Yes. Or what if he’s a pirate and wanted me to work on a ship?”

  “There haven’t been any rumors of pirates in these parts, but that could be a possibility.” Nathan stood and left the stall to move to the henhouse. He gave Ben the basket and let him go in to get the eggs. “You know that Rachel and I want to help you and your sister any way we can. If there is anything that is bothering you, you can come to us.”

  Ben collected three eggs. “Not many this evening.”

  “Perhaps the commotion disturbed the hens.”

  “You think so?”

  “Animals are sensitive to people’s emotions. That is what makes Jasper such a good
guard dog. He senses when someone is in trouble.”

  “He could have gotten killed today.”

  “Yes, he could have.”

  “I miss him.”

  “John will make sure he is taken care of. We have Liberty now to care for. I thought that could be one of your jobs.”

  Ben searched the barn and saw the puppy stretched out on the ground, sound asleep. “Rachel tolded me the constable was looking for a relative to take me and Emma in. We don’t have none. What will that mean? Will he take us away?”

  Nathan walked to Ben and clasped him on the shoulder. “No. I will not let that happen. Neither will Rachel. She went into the swamp by herself because you were in trouble. A person does not do that unless she cares.”

  Ben quickly veiled the shiny gleam in his eyes. “We work hard to pay for our keep.”

  The child kept a barrier between him and others—afraid to care. Nathan could understand that. He felt the same way. He had lost enough people in his life. When a person cared for another, he risked getting hurt. “You do work hard and what you do is appreciated, but that is not why Rachel wants to keep you.”

  “Then why?”

  “Why don’t you ask her?”

  Ben’s mouth puckered into a thoughtful expression. “Maybe.”

  “Let’s go up to the house. I don’t know about you, but I am starved.”

  Ben handed Nathan the basket and then ran to Liberty and scooped the large puppy into his arms. Together the two left the barn and headed toward the house, the firelight pouring out of the windows, coupled with the almost full moon, illuminating their path.

  As Nathan strolled with the child, he thought back to earlier when he had seen Rachel coming toward him to see how Mr. Baker was. Wet, mud-covered, she was the best thing he could have seen in that moment while he was fighting to keep George alive.

  She was safe. For now. He could not shake the feeling it was temporary. She had been in this country only a short time and in danger on a number of occasions. The farm was doing well and might even be a success. But it only took one of those perils going totally wrong to change everything. Today he had to make a choice between saving George or searching for Rachel. Yes, Patrick and John had been here and the decision had been easier because of their presence.

  What will happen next time when the choice is not as easy?

  Thirteen

  A pounding on the door awakened Rachel from a deep sleep, but before she could don a wrapper, the sound stopped and she heard Maddy’s voice. Hurrying, she tied the sash to her dressing gown and left her bedchamber. The look on both Maddy’s and Nathan’s faces alarmed her.

  “What is wrong?” Rachel peered out the window and noticed that night was giving way to dawn, but the light was all wrong—too bright for the time of day.

  “The field closest to the house is on fire. Get everyone up and out of here in case I cannot do anything to stop it.” Nathan pivoted and hurried out the doorway.

  “Get Emma and I will get B—”

  “I’m here.” Ben stood at the bottom of the staircase. “Nathan said there’s a fire?”

  “Yes, we need to get out. The fire is heading toward the house. Grab what you can and then go help Nathan.”

  Rachel rushed into her room and stuffed some clothes into a bag then scooped up Faith. When she returned to the main room, the front door was open. The scent of smoke permeated the air, a haze snaking through the trees like a serpent wanting to devour them. Maddy and Emma came out of their bedchamber with their arms full of clothing and linens.

  “We need to help Nathan fight the fire.” Once they were outside, Rachel handed Faith to Emma. “I want you to stay with Faith, away from the fire. Protect her.”

  The little girl nodded and cuddled Faith against her.

  Leading the others, Rachel started for the road, away from the fire that raged about five hundred feet behind the house. The wind blew, catching the clothes and dancing about her. At the edge of the flames, Nathan used a shovel and threw dirt on what he could. The battle seemed impossible.

  Lord, help. I don’t want to lose the farm. I have too many depending on me. Please, You are the only One who can help.

  At a safe distance, Rachel knelt in front of Emma. “If you need me, yell. I will come. Maddy, Ben, and I are going to work with Nathan to stop the fire.”

  In the dim light of dawn Emma’s eyes grew huge. “You might get hurt. Don’t.”

  “This is my home. Your home. I shall do what I need to do to keep it safe. I shall be all right.” Rachel hugged the girl and Faith to her then rose. “Let’s go. We only have one shovel, but we have buckets and can draw water from the well.”

  Ben raced ahead of Maddy and Rachel and retrieved some buckets from the house. Each of them filled a container with water from the well in the yard and walked as fast as they could toward the burning field, the wind whipping up the blaze.

  Nathan glanced toward Rachel. “Stop. Don’t come too close. If a spark hits your clothes, you could catch fire quickly. The same for Maddy. Have Ben throw the water on the fire.”

  A flaming piece of debris landed a few feet away from Rachel. She lifted her dressing gown and stamped on the tiny fire then took an empty bucket from Ben and hastened to the well to refill it.

  Back and forth she and Maddy went with the water for Ben to toss on the fire. After multiple trips to and from the well, Rachel paused long enough to notice the wind had died down some. Perhaps they had a chance after all. Nathan continued to shovel dirt onto the blaze. He had actually made a little progress.

  Renewed with hope, Rachel worked as fast as she could. The sun peeked over the trees to the east, painting the sky a fiery color to match the flames consuming her corn stalks. The ache in her arms protested every bucket of water she lugged to Ben, but she did not relent. This was her home now—all she had.

  Mr. Baker arrived, out of breath, his arm still in the sling Nathan had fashioned for him. When he had gone back to his cabin two weeks ago, Maddy had not wanted him to leave. She thought he needed a few more days being nursed by her. But Mr. Baker had not been comfortable with her waiting on him nor with being idle.

  Because of his arm, Mr. Baker could only help with transporting the buckets back and forth from the well to the fire. On one of his stops he asked Maddy, “What happened? There hasn’t been any lightning.”

  “We don’t know. Nathan woke up to Liberty yelping in the barn. He got up and smelled the smoke then saw the fire.”

  Mr. Baker turned his attention to Rachel, who handed him a pail. “Do you think this has anything to do with the man in the swamp? ’Tis been three weeks. He is in jail, but the constable does not know much more than you all did that first day.”

  “Your guess is as good as mine. I have no idea. I hadn’t thought about there being another person associated with the man in the swamp. But what if the person who shot you was not the one the constable has in jail?” Rachel peered toward the bog. The sight that filled her vision brought more hope to the surface. “The wind has shifted.” She swung her gaze to the nearly destroyed field to find the line of flames had turned back toward the singed part of the ground.

  “In that case it will die if it does not have anything to burn.” Mr. Baker grabbed the bucket and rushed toward the area still ignited with fire.

  “The wind is blowing toward the swamp. If it burns anything it will be that.” Maddy met Mr. Baker halfway and passed him another pail.

  He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Thank you. Be back.”

  Maddy returned to the well with a rosy hue to her cheeks that had nothing to do with the blaze and a gleam in her eyes. “Even hurt, he comes to help us.”

  “Yes, Mr. Baker is a good neighbor.” Rachel lifted the bucket out of the well and transferred it to Maddy then looked over where Emma was with Faith.

  A couple of bags on the ground met her perusal and sparked panic. Where were the girls? Rachel dropped the pail she was holding and raced toward where she had l
eft the two girls. Her heartbeat accelerated with each step she took. She heard Maddy shout behind her, but she did not stop to answer.

  “Emma! Where are you?” Rachel yelled over and over.

  Close to the pile of their possessions they had taken from the house, she spied the girl running out of the barrier of trees between the river and the house. Emma clasped Faith to her, her screams piercing the air. Fright stamped its mark on her features. She kept glancing back over her shoulder.

  “Help. It is after me.” Emma’s foot caught on a root, and she fell to the ground, rolling to keep from squashing Faith.

  It? Rachel searched the woods as she neared Emma struggling to her feet. “What is after you?”

  “Alligator.” Emma tossed a glance over her shoulder and pointed.

  Rachel saw a large, ugly beast—with the biggest mouth—charging out of the brush right toward them. “Run. Get help.”

  She could not let the alligator go after Emma, which meant she had to stay between Emma and the reptile. Scouring the area for some kind of weapon, she spied the bags and snatched up the top one. Throwing it at the alligator, then the one below it, she continued to look for something to stop the animal.

  A thick branch lay on the ground near a tree. She raced toward it, yelling at the beast, “I am over here.” With a quick peek toward Emma, she latched onto the “weapon” and spun about to face the animal. It slowed and bellowed, eyeing her. Opening and closing its massive jaws, its sharp teeth gleamed in the light. Rachel swung the branch to keep the alligator focused on her but still at a distance.

  A glance to the right found Emma at the house. Another glance behind her centered on a tree with limbs low enough for her to hoist herself out of reach of the beast. She stomped her foot and shouted, “Get out of here.”

  It wasn’t afraid of her. Instead it sprinted forward on its short stubby legs—amazingly fast for such a large creature. Rachel screeched and dropped the branch then vaulted onto the first limb of the elm tree. The alligator leaped up, and its jaws snapped onto her dressing gown, nearly pulling her to the ground. She clamped her arms around the limb above her and yanked on her clothing. A rip reverberated through the air. But she was free to climb higher. She did without looking down.