“Just do it, Fannie,” Toni said, her voice weary and defeated. “It’s not worth dying over.”
“Better listen to your friend, here,” he said. “She’s talking sense.”
But Fannie wasn’t so sure. “Why should we veer off the road and head in a completely different direction from Hawkins? That makes no sense.”
“Because,” Toni said. “As he pointed out, he’s got the gun.”
Something wasn’t quite right with this so-called marshal. Fannie couldn’t put her finger on it, but he seemed more outlaw than lawman. What if Tom had sent him? She shook her head. It was just too ridiculous. Tom didn’t have the brains to come up with that sort of plan.
Against her better judgment, she turned the oxen away from the trail, praying she wasn’t making a big mistake. But with the rifle pressed menacingly against her temple, Fannie felt she had no choice. She had to think of a plan, and thinking would be a lot more difficult with a bullet in her brain. As much as she might welcome an end, her sense of duty rose to the surface, and thoughts of Kip and Katie growing up without her spurred her decision to fight.
Blake couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. The entire wagon train lumbered forward with morose silence. Or at least that’s the way it seemed to Blake. Maybe it was his own foul mood, but it seemed to him that the atmosphere itself leaked ill tempers and tension.
Katie, who had adored Mrs. Kane before Fannie was taken away, now couldn’t bear to be in the same vicinity. She openly defied the woman and had run to the front of the wagon train to find Kip, where he rode Blake’s second horse, Shane. They now rode double on horseback. And no one had the heart to reprimand Katie for running off or Kip from welcoming her on his mount when every extra pound on a horse’s back in this heat and with these hills only made it that much harder on the animal.
At noon, Blake called a one-hour lunch break. The sun beat mercilessly, and most folks didn’t feel like eating anyway, so the typical fare was jerky and cold beans left over from the night before. Otherwise, quick corn cakes, biscuits, or anything else that could be served cold. It was definitely a small meal any way you looked at it.
Kip and Katie sat nibbling at molasses-soaked leftover biscuits, their miserable silence leading Blake to wish he was better at talking. Times like this, Blake missed Sam. His friend would have known what to say to make Kip and Katie feel better. But Blake felt at a loss as the two came to him, and not the Kanes, for their noon meal.
Finally, movement from the corner of his eye caught Blake’s attention as Katie nudged her brother. Kip swallowed nervously and looked at Blake.
“Something on your mind, Kip?”
The boy nodded, swallowing down a bite. “Katie and me was wondering if we can take Shane and go swimming in the creek Grant Kelley mentioned when he came back from scouting.”
“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, son,” he said.
“The Kanes already gave their permission if you said it was okay.”
Now, that surprised Blake, but Mrs. Kane would probably agree to just about anything to gain Katie’s love after losing her own daughter so recently.
Grant Kelley, a former sheriff with troubles he hadn’t seen fit to share, had proven himself invaluable as a tracker since Independence, and Sam had put him in charge of the rest of the scouts in his absence. Grant had come back with news that the creek was at least five miles away. Not a long ride on horseback, but these days, it would likely take the wagon train the rest of the day to reach it, and they’d make their evening camp alongside the creek. “I see. The two of you thought you’d ride on ahead, take some time to frolic in the water, and wait for the rest of us to get there?”
Kip gave him a guilty grin that nearly did Blake in. “Yes, sir. I like to practice every time we come to a river or a creek.” He’d taught the children to swim before they left the banks of the Big Blue River. He was taking no more chances that they would drown because of something as silly as the absence of a skill every child should have by the age of four.
Still, the pair were new swimmers at best and could get into trouble with a strong undertow or miscalculating distance from one bank to the next. He hesitated to give permission, regardless of the Kanes. “I’m not sure it’s such a good idea, kids.”
“Oh, Blake,” Sadie broke in. “What will it hurt to let them have a little fun? They probably need to get off by themselves for a bit to think things through. And if Mr. and Mrs. Kane already gave their permission…”
“Yeah,” Kip said, his eyes soulful and watery. “We miss Fannie an awful lot.”
There really wasn’t a good excuse not to allow a little swimming excursion on such a hot day. Their scout, though admittedly not as capable as Sam, still had a good nose for trouble. He’d reported no signs of wild animals between here and the creek. And no Indian activity. After a couple of more seconds, Blake looked from one child to the other. “All right. I reckon the two of you deserve a little fun. But be on the lookout for signs of danger.”
There were no shouts of excitement, no exclamations of thanks, but Blake understood. These children had lost so much already. Losing Fannie had been as devastating as their parents’ deaths. For all intents and purposes, she’d filled the role of mother, father, and older sister. The void left in her absence couldn’t be filled by a simple outing.
He watched as they hurried to Shane. Kip climbed up first, then swung Katie up, settling her behind him before lifting his hand in farewell to Blake. They rode away at a gallop, Katie’s braids flying behind her in the wind.
His thoughts turned to Fannie. He was surprised at the void she’d left in his life as well. Larger and blacker than he’d ever thought possible. He’d always considered himself a loner. Even thoughts of needing a wife were more for practical reasons than the desire for companionship. But after coming to know Fannie, he could imagine his life with only one woman. How could he sit across the table from another female with less-than-perfect wide blue eyes? Perfect, crazy, unruly hair that refused to stay put beneath pins or wrapped in braids?
“I know.” Sadie spoke up. “I miss her too.”
Blake didn’t even try to deny who he’d been thinking of. As a matter of fact, Fannie was the only thing on his mind, and he hadn’t slept a wink in well over twenty-four hours. He was exhausted, lonely, and wishing that marshal had never caught up to them.
“Something’s not right.” Toni’s whispered words weren’t news to Fannie. She’d spent the last several hours trying to figure out how to overpower the marshal and hightail it back to Katie and Kip and Blake. She hoped the problem was a simple matter of the fool not realizing that by veering off the main trail, they’d be taking a long way around to get to Hawkins and were probably lost. Maybe his was a case of stubborn pride incapable of admitting he didn’t know where they were.
“Marshal?” she asked, her voice a startling contrast to the silence of the treeless landscape.
“What?”
“It’s going to be dark real soon.”
“Don’t you think I got eyes? Just shut up and keep going.”
Fannie gave an exasperated sigh. “Listen, I haven’t eaten all day. And I need to…” She broke off. Even in these dire circumstances she couldn’t bring herself to mention nature’s call by name. “You know…”
“Need to what?” he asked.
“Good heavens,” Toni spoke up. “What do you think?”
“Oh. Well, why didn’t she just say so?” He pulled his horse to a stop. “I could use a stop myself. You got five minutes.”
Toni moved to exit the wagon. Fannie halted her with a hand on her arm. “Kip’s gun is in the wagon.”
Toni’s eyes grew big. “Where?”
“Under my pallet, I saw him put it in there right before the marshal reached us. But if I don’t climb down and…you know…he’ll get suspicious.”
“What are you two whispering about?”
“Now, Marshal,” Fannie said, trying to
sound like a fainting, foolish woman. “There are certain things a woman doesn’t share when a man is in earshot. Private woman things.”
He cleared his throat with nervous embarrassment. “Well, stop that chattering about private things and get to it, or you’ll just have to hold it until we reach camp.”
She climbed down from the wagon and walked around to the back for some privacy. When she finished, she only prayed Toni was able to take advantage of the marshal’s own need to relieve himself and grab the pistol from the back when he wasn’t looking.
Toni nodded as Fannie climbed back into the wagon. The pistol sat on the seat, beneath the folds of Toni’s skirts.
“Did you notice the marshal said when we reach camp, like we’re meeting with someone else?”
“Yes,” Toni whispered. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
“So do I.”
Fannie gathered her breath and did what she knew she should have done hours before. Please God, she prayed silently. We need your help.
A broken axle had delayed the wagon train for a good two hours. Knowing Kip and Katie were alone with no food and darkness closing in, Blake pressed on, cursing himself for being stupid enough to let a couple of kids ride off alone. Especially kids who had only recently learned to swim.
His thoughts turned to Mrs. Kane, and he whipped Dusty around in a split second. The woman must be sick with worry. When he reached their wagon, he removed his hat and nodded a greeting to the couple sitting side by side on the wagon seat. Mrs. Kane smiled a sad smile in greeting. He supposed that melancholy would be around a while. Not that he blamed her. It must be horrible for a mother to lose a child. Most mothers anyway.
“Good evening, Mr. Tanner.” Mr. Kane kept the horses moving. “Glad to be moving again. I take it the repair was made.”
“Not entirely. We need a blacksmith. But it’ll hold for now.”
“That’s good.”
Awkward silence filled the space between them. Blake cleared his throat. “Just wanted to let you folks know we should be at the creek in a few minutes. We’ll be circling the wagons soon. I figure Kip and Katie will likely ride out to meet us within a few minutes.”
A frown touched Mrs. Kane’s brow. “What do you mean? I thought they were riding with you today.”
“They did before lunch. But they rode on ahead to swim before the rest of us got to the creek.”
Mr. Kane slipped his arm about Mrs. Kane’s shoulder and stared at Blake with an accusing glare. “Why would you allow them to go off alone without seeking our permission? I realize they’re not our children, but we’ve agreed to raise them in Miss Caldwell’s absence. I think that entitles us to the same consideration their mother and father might have been given if circumstances had been different.”
A dozen different thoughts swirled through his head at once. Possible explanations. Until finally only one explanation made real sense. Cold sweat trickled down his spine. The children had obviously lied to him. “I don’t know how to say this, but Kip told me you had already given permission if I said it was all right. So I made a judgment—a poor one, I recognize—based on what I thought you wanted.”
Zach scowled and gave him a look that made Blake squirm. “Mr. Tanner,” the man said. “My wife lost our little girl such a short time ago. Why would we allow these children to wander off alone when we’re so desperate to keep them close? Mrs. Kane has been struggling against tears all day, and I was very close to bringing them both back to our wagon before we made camp just to give her peace of mind.”
Suddenly Blake’s collar seemed awfully tight. How could they have lied to him? When he caught up with those two, he’d show them a thing or two. They were both going to work so hard at extra chores that they wouldn’t have time to get into trouble.
“I apologize for not thinking through the possibility they might be lying.” Real remorse filled him. “I’ve never had much dealings with youngsters.”
“We understand, Mr. Tanner,” Mrs. Kane said. “But please come to us from now on when the children ask to do something potentially dangerous from a parent’s perspective.”
Blake slapped his hat back on his head. “I give you my word.” He kicked Dusty’s side and rode up the line until he found Grant Kelley. “Grant, the kids lied. They weren’t given permission to go swimming today. I’m afraid they might be scared or something worse.”
A crooked grin split the tracker’s face. “Those little scallywags. Imagine them telling a lie just so’s they could get a dip in the creek ahead of the rest of us.”
“Yeah, imagine.” Blake wasn’t even close to amused by the twins’ antics, and he intended to give them each a few choice words as soon as they showed up.
“You want me to ride on ahead and find them?”
“Yeah. And make them stay put.”
“Yes, boss.”
Eighteen
Fannie reached for the pistol sitting on the seat between her and Toni. She fingered the cold steel, trying to decide if now was the time to use her ace in the hole. One thing Tom had taught her, there was a time to hold back and a time to play your hand. Of course, Tom had lost his shirt nine times out of ten, so she wasn’t so sure anything he taught her was much good.
Their escort had become more talkative during the last half hour, his spirits much improved, like Tom after a shot or two of whiskey on a cold winter night. But Fannie hadn’t noticed a bottle, so she could only conclude that his change in demeanor was a result of knowing they were getting close to meeting up with his partners or deputies or whoever they were supposed to meet. One thing was certain, the marshal wasn’t going it alone.
But how close were they? If she didn’t make a move soon, it might be too late. No telling how many men would be in camp once they arrived. Might be one—and one she could handle—or it might be a hundred, and no way she could stave off that many men with one six-shooter.
Toni nudged her and nodded for her to do it. “Double over like you’re sick,” Fannie whispered. She pulled on the reins and halted the oxen just as Toni picked up on her cue and started moaning like a woman in labor.
“What do you think you’re doing, girl?” The marshal’s voice was gruff and threatening.
“Something’s wrong with Toni.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I-I can’t say,” Toni said, groaning and moaning like death was imminent. If not for the seriousness of their present circumstances, Fannie would have laughed and laughed.
“I think you best take a look at her, sir.”
“I ain’t no doctor,” he growled. “Git movin’. There ain’t nothin’ we can do about it for now.”
Taking a chance the man wasn’t who he said he was, Fannie tried a bluff—another card-playing tactic Tom was no good at.
“I thought all lawmen received some medical know-how before they were sworn in.”
He gave her a stupid look that, in the light of his lantern, looked downright comical as he tried to figure out how to respond.
“Well, we are taught a little doctorin’, but mostly I ain’t very good at it.”
Toni’s wails grew louder and more pathetic. Less convincing to anyone with half a brain, but apparently the so-called marshal lacked in that department.
“I reckon I could take a look.”
“We’d appreciate anything you can do for her.”
He swung down from his horse, his rifle firmly in his hands. He frowned as he looked Toni over, clearly trying to decide if he ought to touch her or not. “You-uh-say yer innards are ailin’?”
Toni nodded, her face twisted in agony. “What do you think it might be?”
He slipped a hand across the stubble on his cheek as his perplexity about the situation clearly overwhelmed him.
“Maybe you ought to take a look, sir,” Fannie said, tossing in the “sir” to throw him off the scent.
He nodded with self-importance. “Maybe you’re right.” He took a step up on the side step of the wagon.
&n
bsp; Fannie knew it was now or never.
In a flash, she whipped the pistol from its hiding place and shoved it inches from his nose. Surprise widened his eyes. Then fear as Fannie turned her lips upward in a smile that clearly bespoke the change of events. “Drop the rifle, Marshal.” He did so. “Now back down, slowly. Hands up!”
He complied.
“Nice job, Toni.” She grinned. “You could have been an actress on the London stage.”
Toni laughed out loud. A beautiful sound after days of heartache.
“No thank you,” she said, climbing from the wagon. “Finding a nice husband and settling in the West will suit me just fine.”
It was apparent their captor turned captive was starting to realize the situation he now faced.
“Where’d you get that gun?”
“Only a fool doesn’t check a person’s personal belongings before they kidnap them. And no U.S. Marshal is that big of a fool, Marshal. Who are you really?”
“I don’t have to tell you nothin’,” he said, a sneer curling his lips.
“Now, Clay, there ain’t no call for rudeness.”
Fannie turned as a hulking shadow appeared from behind the wagon.
“Yeah, Clay,” another voice, tinged with amusement, echoed. “No call for rudeness.”
Dread turned over in Fannie’s gut. Toni uttered a groan—a real one this time, and Fannie knew her friend’s despair rivaled her own. The voices were all too familiar. Only God could help them now.
Blake fought to keep his panic in check as Grant reported back twenty minutes after riding out after the children. “No sign of them, Blake.”
“What do you mean? Did you look all up and down the creek?”
“It ain’t that big. And it ain’t deep enough to drown two kids and a horse with no sign, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
Relief washed over Blake that he hadn’t been forced to ask. To voice his fears the children had escaped the waters of the Big Blue River only to drown in a creek because he’d been foolish enough to send them off alone. “Do you think they were lost?” Or please God no, captured by Indians, killed by wild animals?
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