Defiant Heart

by Tracey Bateman

  She nodded, cast a last lingering look at Blake, and scurried away.

  “Nice lady.”

  “Don’t start,” Blake warned.

  “Okay.”

  “Any new wagons show up?”

  “A couple.”

  Blake’s heart jumped. “Oh?”

  “Not her, though.”

  Shoving a bite of dripping eggs into his mouth, Blake sent him a scowl. “Her, who?”

  A grin tipped his friend’s lips. “The redhead.”

  Sam knew him too well. He hadn’t slept much, worrying about that girl. No telling what she might do. Following the train could be dangerous. Any outlaws or Indians bent on mischief would pick off a lone wagon first. Still, if they hadn’t shown up yet…well, forget the disappointment he felt…maybe the girl had wised up and decided to stay put where she belonged. “You think she’s in some kind of trouble?” he asked his friend.

  Sam’s gaze remained fixed on the campfire. His eyes narrowed in thought. “Could be.”

  Condemnation squeezed Blake’s heart. Dadburn it. He should have let her and her brother and sister join the train.

  “Want me to go out and look for her?” Sam’s tone was carefully noncommittal, but there was just enough of a knowing shift in pitch to raise Blake’s ire, bringing him back to his senses.

  He shoveled in the last of his bacon and shot to his feet, still chewing. He swallowed down the bite with a swig of coffee. The fire hissed as he tossed the remains of his cup into embers. “I’m a wagon master, not a headmaster. I don’t have time to look after a bunch of young’uns. We best finish breaking down camp and move out.”

  He wanted to put as much distance between Hawkins and the wagon train as he could, as quickly as possible.

  Fannie woke with a start to the nauseating combination of manure and sweet-smelling hay. The sun shone brightly through the cracks in the barn and streamed into the opening in the canvas of the wagon, where they’d spent the night. The brightness stabbed her eyelids with the familiar pain of after-beating headache. Stretching was out of the question with the pain in her sides. And her shoulder hung from her body with stubbornness, so stiff and sore that moving it nearly squeezed a cry of pain from her swollen lips. Mindful of the twins still sleeping around her, she remained silent through sheer force of will.

  Voices rose from outside the wagon. A man’s voice, mocking, menacing. Fannie’s heart raced. Had Tom already been discovered where they’d left him, tied up and gagged on the floor of his home? She took a quick glance around the wagon. Kip was just beginning to stir, and Katie’s angelic face registered deep sleep still. But Toni was gone.

  She pressed closer to the canvas flap and pulled it back barely enough so that she could see what was going on outside. Toni stood face-to-face with a man Fannie recognized as Arnold, one of George’s cronies and someone Tom had complained about losing money to in more than one game of chance.

  “Leave them alone, Arnold. They’re just kids.” Toni’s voice quaked. Fannie knew Toni had been on the receiving end of Arnold’s brand of discipline at one time or another like the rest of George’s girls, so she understood her fear.

  Still, Fannie’s emotions lifted with relief that it was Arnold and not Tom who had found them. But in the second after that thought, she knew how dangerous their situation had become. George’s thug had beaten every fancy woman in town more than once and regularly tossed rambunctious drunkards out of George’s tavern. Regret surged through her. She should have known better than to let Toni tag along. Tom would have been too stupid and too tied up to find them anytime soon. But Arnold…how could she have not considered Arnold?

  “You sayin’ you’ll come back without a fight if I let Fannie and the twins go?”

  Fannie held her breath.

  “That’s right.”

  An evil chuckle filled the barn. “I don’t need your bargains. Yer comin’ back either way. And so are them young’uns. I bet ol’ Tom’ll be willin’ to pay a pretty penny to get them back.”

  Toni’s voice shrilled as she called him a foul name.

  A loud crack filled the barn as Arnold reared back and let his hand connect hard with Toni’s cheek. She hit the ground before he pulled back his hand.

  Fannie’s own body still ached from last night’s beating, but she couldn’t sit by and let Toni go through the same thing. Singed with anger, she started to reach for the flap. Giving no thought to her course of action once she came face-to-face with the thug, she could barely see through her anger. A hand on her elbow halted her. Kip pressed cold metal into her hand. Fannie’s eyes widened as she looked down at the Colt. She hadn’t even thought about them needing a gun.

  She nodded her approval to her brother just as a rat-faced man poked his head inside the wagon. “Well, lookee what we have here.”

  Fannie shoved the barrel of the pistol inches from his nose. His eyes widened. “Hey, now. What’s this?”

  “Get back,” Fannie said, mustering all of her courage.

  “Now, you take it easy there, little gal. Do you even know how to use that thing?”

  “You’d best get back, mister,” Fannie warned, relieved that her voice held steady. “Or I might have to demonstrate just how straight I can shoot by putting a bullet in your head.”

  “Now, no need to be threatening.” But he backed up, obviously not willing to call her bluff.

  “Toni, grab his gun from his belt.”

  The saloon girl stood on shaky legs and did as she was instructed, obviously still a bit disoriented. Fresh anger washed over Fannie. Why did men just think they could beat on women all the time? “Take out his gun and keep a close eye on him. If he makes any quick moves, plug him.”

  “O-okay,” Toni said.

  With Toni covering Arnold, Fannie climbed from the wagon, catching her breath as a sudden sharp pain in her side nearly sent her into a swoon. She gathered herself together and shook off the dizziness. “You two stay put,” she instructed the twins.

  “Aw, Fannie. I could help,” Kip said.

  Fannie hesitated, then inclined her head. As much as she hated to admit it, she really did need the boy’s help. “Do we have any extra rope?”

  Arnold sent up a roar of outrage. “You think I’m going to let a bunch of kids and a whore tie me up?”

  Fannie swung around to face the man. He wasn’t the pathetic, drunken fool Tom was. His eyes glittered cold as ice. No. This man wouldn’t sit by passively while they made their escape. Besides, now that he’d seen them, he’d go back and find Tom, hours before they’d planned. All the months and months of planning would be for nothing.

  “What are we going to do, Fannie?” Katie’s whisper-soft voice eked out of the wagon.

  The sound of her sister’s fearful question brought Fannie to a quick decision. She nodded decisively. “We’ll have to kill him.” She hadn’t meant to speak the words aloud. But now that she had, she knew she had no choice. It was him or them. And she’d rather see him die than risk Kip and Katie going back to Tom.

  “Now, just hold on a dad gum minute, little girl. You go right ahead and tie me up. I won’t make no fuss.”

  “Fannie”—Toni’s soft voice penetrated the barn—“killing is too good for him, I understand, but if you do this, you’ll be no better than he is, or George, or Tom.”

  “Listen to her, Fannie,” Arnold said, his voice beginning to tremble with fear. “You don’t want to have my life on your conscience, do you?”

  “You shut up,” she said, waving the gun menacingly. “You hear?” Her mind swirled with possible scenarios. And none were pretty.

  The barn door swung open, revealing a hulking shadow against the sun’s brilliance. “What’s this?” Hank Moore stepped out of the glare, with his gun drawn, and Fannie nearly fainted, so grateful was she to see him.

  “Oh, Hank.” Toni’s relief was unmistakable. “Arnold is trying to take me back.”

  The smithy sent a cold glare toward the henchman. “Well, I rec
kon we ain’t gonna let that happen.”

  Arnold’s face turned to stone. “George ain’t gonna like you helping his girl.”

  Hank ignored the other man and turned to Kip. “You shouldn’t have kept the team hitched all night, son. But no matter now. Pull the wagon out and get the women settled in.”

  “Do as he says, Kip,” Fannie instructed. “We’ve likely already missed the wagon train by a good three hours. We have some time to make up.”

  “What are you going to do?” Toni asked Hank. Fannie couldn’t understand her worried tone. It was enough for her that the man had shown up just when they needed him. Whatever happened from here on out, at least they had a chance to get away before Arnold could make it back to Hawkins and spread the word that they’d gone.

  “Now don’t worry, sweetheart,” Hank said, slipping his arm around Toni’s shoulders while keeping his gun fixed on Arnold with his other hand. “I’m just going to have me a little talk with Arnold here. Once we reach an understanding, I’ll catch up to you and say good-bye.”

  Fannie watched, deeply relieved that Hank had shown up and taken the question of what to do with Arnold out of her hands. Now all she could think of was getting away from the area before someone discovered Tom. She tugged on Toni’s arm. “If you’re coming with me, let’s go. I’m not waiting one more second. We’ve lost more time than I intended by sleeping too long.”

  Toni’s brow puckered. “Hank?”

  He nodded toward the barn door. “You go like Fannie says.”

  The blacksmith’s face gentled considerably as he looked at her. Fannie’s breath cooled as she sucked it in. That man was in love with Toni. Well, that could only help them out. Maybe allowing the prostitute to come along would prove to be a blessing instead of a curse after all.

  By noon, the town of Hawkins, Kansas, was largely forgotten as the travelers turned their attention westward, onward. Back to the routine of the trail. Even the six men who had tied one on at the saloon the night before seemed in good spirits, and there didn’t appear to be any tension between the married men and their wives. Not that Blake would have blamed the women for being angry, but he couldn’t help but be relieved not to have to mediate between feuding married couples. Especially when his own nerves were taut as he kept one eye on the wagon train and one fixed firmly on the horizon behind the train. By now, with no sign of the little scrap of a young woman, Blake was almost sure she’d given up and would try her luck with the next wagon train, which would most likely be coming through during the next month or so.

  Only the barest amount of regret pinched at him as he firmly pushed aside the image of startling ocean blue eyes and riotous red curls. Besides, after that breakfast this morning, he’d practically made up his mind to redouble his efforts in Edna’s direction. True, he wasn’t in love with her, but he enjoyed her conversation, when he understood what she was talking about. She read poetry and such and enjoyed discussing it with him. But he supposed a man could put up with that nonsense for a woman who could cook like Mrs. Cooper. And he needed a wife. If he didn’t speak up soon, he’d lose his chance. There were ten other men in the wagon train alone on the lookout for a wife before they reached Oregon.

  “Here they come.” Sam’s voice broke through Blake’s musings. He looked in the direction the scout pointed, and a grin tugged at his lips. All thought of Edna fled as, even across the plains, Fannie’s red hair blazed like a roaring prairie fire.

  His heart gave a leap. “Looks like you were right. She’s not one to take no for an answer, is she?” Blake pulled his horse to a halt. “I think I’ll ride out and greet them.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  A shrug lifted Blake’s shoulders. “I guess we’ll find out in a few minutes.”

  “Someone’s coming out to meet us.”

  Kip’s announcement was unnecessary. Fannie had been expecting the wagon master’s confrontation ever since they’d gotten close enough to the train to be spotted, and her gaze had remained fixed in that direction. She braced herself now. Determination squared her shoulders.

  “Take it easy, Fannie,” Toni said softly. “Don’t antagonize him, or he’ll never let us join them.”

  The admonishment raised Fannie’s ire. “I’m not planning to antagonize him. He’d better not antagonize me either.”

  “Oh, Fannie,” she said. “Let me do the talking, or your stubbornness is going to land us all right back in Hawkins or dead on the trail.”

  “Maybe she’s right,” Katie whispered, her eyes wide with fright.

  Kip’s freckles scrunched up as he gave her a deep frown. “Yeah, Fannie. Let Toni talk. You’re just going to get that fellow mad.”

  Fannie looked around at the three worried faces and expelled a breath. Mercy, did they honestly think she was incapable of using her head? She knew the best way to get what you wanted was to smile and speak pleasantly. True, this fellow had a way of getting her irked so that she said the first thing that popped into her head, but she knew what was at stake here. “I’ll do the talking. But I’ll be civil.”

  Toni nodded, but there was hesitance in her eyes.

  Fannie reached out and squeezed her hand. “I promise I won’t risk our chances of joining the wagon train.”

  They fell silent as the muscled stallion pulled to a halt beneath the equally well muscled Blake Tanner. His gaze swept the group, then settled on Fannie. “Out for a little ride?”

  Swallowing the sharp retort that was already forming on her tongue, Fannie stared at him, forcing a look of pure innocence. “We’re headed west.” She cleared her throat. “Same as you.”

  “I thought I told you no unaccompanied women on my train, Miss Caldwell.”

  “You made your position perfectly clear, Mr. Tanner. But I’m not traveling in your line of wagons. See? We’re all the way over here, and you’re way over there.” Fannie gripped the reins with hands that were already smarting from two enormous blisters beginning to form on her palms. “We-uh-can travel west if we want to. There’s no law saying we can’t, is there?” Fannie mentally kicked herself. How could she have been dumb enough to mention the law when they’d just broken several of them?

  “None that I’m aware of.” His face remained statuesque as he kept his stern gaze fixed on her face.

  Try as she might to read his expression, Fannie had no idea what might be going through his mind.

  “Tell me, Miss Caldwell, do you take me for a fool?”

  Fannie opened her mouth to answer but shut it again as Toni punched her in the arm. She drew as deep a breath as she could around the pain in her ribs and bit back the obvious retort, opting instead for a more conciliatory reply. “We don’t want to interfere with your wagon train, Mr. Tanner. Nor do we wish our presence to cause you distress. But we have our reasons for wanting to leave Hawkins.”

  “I’m sure you do, Miss Caldwell. But you and I both know if you travel in this proximity to the wagon train, I will be forced to look after you.”

  Fannie couldn’t resist a triumphant smile. She knew she shouldn’t antagonize the wagon master, but she’d done well so far, and so briefly allowed for the upward curve of her lips. “We don’t need anyone to look after us, sir. We’ll stay on our side of the road, and you and your long wagon train may stay on yours.”

  He scowled, and Fannie felt her courage fail her. What would she do if he ordered her to take an alternate route? Could he do that?

  “Miss Caldwell,” he said, with the rise and fall of his chest, “you’ve left me no choice but to include your wagon with the rest. You will travel somewhere in the middle in a designated spot that my scout, Sam Two Feathers, will show you.”

  “Yippee!” Kip’s outburst nearly sent Fannie out of her own skin, but she couldn’t blame him. She, too, felt like jumping for joy.

  “Don’t think you’ve won, Fannie.”

  She jerked back to look at Blake, only to find his stern brown eyes penetrating hers. She fought the urge to look away gui
ltily. Instead, she met his gaze head-on. “I didn’t know it was a contest.”

  He ignored the comment and shoved his finger toward her. “Let this be the last order you disobey,” he said. “Is that clear?”

  Orders? Oh, no. She was through taking orders. Especially from men. She gathered in a deep breath, ready to give the wagon master a good piece of her mind, when Toni’s hand touched her arm, and the prostitute spoke, forcing Fannie to release her breath without benefit of releasing her onslaught of words. “Mr. Tanner. We appreciate your reconsidering. We promise not to be any trouble.”

  “See that you aren’t, or, trust me, I won’t think twice about forcing you to leave at the nearest town.” Though his words were in answer to Toni’s comment, he spoke directly to Fannie.

  A soft cough came from Katie, reminding Fannie just why she was so determined to join the wagon train in the first place. And she made a decision. She would not force this man’s hand. Rather, she’d be a model passenger. She forced a smile she was far from feeling. “I won’t disobey again.”

  Five

  Blake hid a grin at the girl’s oath. He was almost positive Fannie wouldn’t be able to keep her promise not to disobey his orders. But for now he was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt and hope for the best. Besides, something wasn’t quite right. Fannie’s mouth was swollen as though she’d been knocked around. Her cheek was bruised, and, unless Blake was mistaken, she seemed to be moving slowly and with deliberate moves. There! Another wince.

  “What happened to you?” he asked, surprising himself with the gruffness of his question.

  Fannie looked up, surprise parting her bruised lips. “Are you speaking to me?”

  “Who else?” He peered more closely. “You’ve been knocked around pretty good, if I had to guess.”

  Her face grew stormy, and she sniffed, but turned away. “Then don’t guess,” she said flatly. “I appreciate your letting us into your train. For the twins’ sake, but how I got these bruises is my business.”

  Blake had always figured people had the right to keep their own affairs private. But something about this young woman drew his curiosity; more than that, his blood pumped with outrage that anyone could bruise such a beautiful face, or in any way try to break this young woman’s indomitable spirit. Sure, she was probably one to provoke a man to frustration, but to lay a hand on her? He’d like to get his hands on the fella who did this.