The Widow and the Warrior

by Sarah Winn

  The Osborne’s had evidently let the Coylers see their grandchild, but had not invited them to be their houseguests, although they obviously had extra bedrooms. This could be a short visit. If Bill waited until Coyler was in another part of the country, getting money out of the old man in exchange for his grandson would take a lot of time and might allow the man to take actions that would ruin Bill’s chances of getting away scot-free.

  Movement caught his attention. A white-haired man with his braces still swinging around the hips, came out of a side door and headed to the privy. Damn, would Bill never get a break? After a few minutes, the man went back into the house. He had used a door on the side of the house. There was another one on the back. Could Bill sneak in there? Not knowing what was on the other side of that door made such an attempt risky.

  While Bill debated what to do, the door the older man had gone through opened again, but this time it opened slowly. A small head peeked out and around, and then the boy came out and started toward the back of the house. He was carrying a paper-wrapped package, and the way he had looked around and was now running made it obvious that he had sneaked out. Bill silently thanked Lady Luck, and waited for the boy to reach the lane and turn toward the stables.

  Bill started to pull the scarf he’d tied around his neck up to cover his face, but then thought better of it. If the boy saw a masked man approaching him, he’d surely start yelling. But how could Bill return the boy if he had seen his face? Why did he have to return him? There were people who paid for children for one purpose of another. That would give Bill a chance to earn a few more pounds and serve that old bastard, Coyler, right.

  He followed after the boy, staying under cover. As soon as they were out of sight of the house, Bill stepped onto the road and softly called, “Hey, sonny, can you help me.”

  The boy whirled around, his eyes wide with surprise.

  Bill smiled. “I’m looking for the Osborne Stables. Is this the right road?”

  The boy relaxed and pointed down the road. “The stables are this way.”

  Bill stepped closer to the boy. “And would I be finding Captain Osborne there?”

  The boy shook his head. “He’s still in the house. Won’t go to the stables until after breakfast. And I got to hurry.”

  He turned away, took a couple of steps, but Bill leaped forward, grabbed the boy’s arm with one hand and stuffed a handkerchief in his mouth with the other. Then he tied a neckerchief over that to be sure the boy couldn’t spit out the gag. The boy tried to pull away and whined like a frightened dog.

  Bill slapped his cheek and muttered, “You behave yourself, sonny, or I’ll give you worse than that.”

  The boy froze, and Bill easily bound his hands together with a small length of rope he’d brought in his coat pocket. Then he hoisted the child over his shoulder and crossed into the woods on the other side of the lane. Lady Luck had smiled on him again!

  Chapter 19

  When Ellen came back from the bathing room and entered Toby’s bedroom, she was surprised to see the bed empty and Toby’s nightshirt laying on the floor. He always waited for her to help him dress. Perhaps this was a new sign of his growing independence. She hurriedly got dressed, twisted her braids up at the base of her head, and left the room.

  Seeing Gerald’s door slightly ajar, she stopped and called, “Is Toby in there?”

  “No. Is he supposed to be?” Gerald answered in a still groggy voice.

  “I guess he’s already gone downstairs. I better get him before he irritates Mrs. Moore.”

  She went down the backstairs because that was the quickest way to reach the servant’s wing. Mrs. Moore and Alice were both in the kitchen. Neither of them had seen Toby, but Mrs. Moore suggested he might have gone with the Mister to collect eggs. Ellen ran through the laundry room and out into the yard. She saw Mr. Moore moving about in the chicken coop, but he was quite alone. She waved her arm to attract his attention and then called, “Have you seen Toby this morning?”

  He shook his head.

  Ellen was becoming quite irritated with Toby. He knew better than to leave the house without her permission. But perhaps he was still in the house. She ran back inside and to the first floor of the main wing. She quickly checked each room, calling Toby’s name. Finally, she reached the aunt’s suite, the one place in the house that Toby had been forbidden to enter. Surely, he would not be here, but she opened the door to the parlor and looked and called and even went into the bedroom. He was not there.

  She felt a moment of relief, knowing he had not disobeyed her edict about entering those rooms, but her relief was short lived as she reminded herself that he had apparently left the house without permission. As she came out of the aunt’s rooms, she heard heavy footsteps on the stairs and looked up to see Gerald coming down, still buttoning his shirt. “Haven’t you found him yet?”

  “No,” she said with a slight waver in her voice.

  “He’s probably gone outside,” Gerald said in an irritatingly calm voice.

  “I looked. He wasn’t with Mr. Moore. Did you look in the other bedrooms upstairs?”

  He shook his head. “You want me to go back and look?”

  “I’ll do it. You better get your breakfast.”

  Ellen started up the stairs, but the sound of Alice’s voice stopped her. “Mrs. Moore just noticed that a package of table scraps she left out for Toby to give to the cats is gone. He must be at the stables.”

  With a sigh of relief, Ellen quickly reversed her course and headed for the back of the house. Gerald called after her, “Don’t be too hard on him.”

  Ellen ran through the back wing of the house, burst out the back door, and headed for the stables. About half way there, she saw the spilled package of table scraps. She stared at it for a moment, wondering why Toby had not gathered up the little scraps of left-over pork—they were still edible for cats. Then she noticed scuff marks in the dirt. Footprints—small and large. Picking up the front of her skirt, she started running as hard as she could toward the stable.

  As she reached the opened doorway of the main building, she used her last breath to scream Toby’s name.

  Mr. Tully popped out of one of the stalls, “Boy’s not here, ma’am.”

  Mr. Sam hurried into the barn. “What’s the matter?”

  Ellen was still trying to regain her breath, so Mr. Tully said, “Mrs. Osborne is looking for the boy, but he ain’t in here.”

  Mr. Sam laid his hand on Ellen’s shoulder. “What made you think he would be here?”

  “Cat scraps—in the road—dropped them.”

  “Show me,” Mr. Sam said. As they turned toward the doorway, he added, “Tully, you check every stall in this stable just to be sure.”

  As Ellen and Mr. Sam reached the package of spilled scraps, Gerald hurried up to them. “Haven’t you found him yet?”

  She pointed at the scraps, not trusting herself to speak.

  Mr. Sam said, “Looks like he never made it to the stables, but Tully is searching just to make sure.”

  “He’s probably wandered off. The Moores and Alice are thoroughly searching the house. As soon as Jim gets here we’ll start a search of the grounds.”

  Having regained enough breath, Ellen jabbed a finger toward the tracks in the roadway and screeched, “He’s been taken. Look!”

  Both men looked down. Mr. Sam followed the tracks to the side of the lane and examined the foliage. “Large footprints entering here.”

  “But who would—”

  Ellen didn’t let Gerald finish. “Mr. Sugar-Won’t-Melt-in-My-Mouth Coyler. That’s who!”

  Gerald shook his head. “He’s an old man. He wouldn’t ride through woods at dawn to kidnap a child.”

  “No, but he would hire someone to do it.” Ellen was furious at Gerald and herself for letting that sneaky bastard convince them that he just wanted to be a loving grandfather. “Go into town now. Stop them from leaving. They may not have Toby, but they know who does.”

 
; Gerald’s face had grown pale, but he spoke calmly. “Sam, check those tracks. See where they go. Ellen, we’ll look around the house for any other signs. Toby might have wandered out in the woods and gotten lost.”

  “Are you mad?” she screeched at him. “Stop Coyler!”

  He put his hand firmly in the middle of her back and started shoving her toward the house. “I can’t accuse a man of a kidnapping without being sure there’s been one.”

  They had nearly reached the house when Jim came riding up the driveway that ran beside it. He yanked his horse to a stop and looked down at them. “Is something wrong, Captain?”

  “We can’t find Toby. Go to the other side of the house and ride around the edge of the woods. Look for any break in the undergrowth that a man or boy might have caused.”

  Jim nodded and spurred his horse away from them.

  Just then Mr. Moore came out of the back of the house and started toward them. “We’ve looked in every room—even the attic. No sign of the boy.”

  Ellen couldn’t stifle a cry of anguish. Had Coyler finally taken her child away from her? Why didn’t Gerald stop stalling and do something? Maybe he didn’t want to. Maybe he’d rather be free of the responsibility for another man’s child.

  Mr. Sam suddenly emerged for the brush and started toward them with a grim expression on his face. “The tracks led to a place where a horse had been tied. But it’s gone now, heading west.”

  The strength ebbed from Ellen’s legs, and she sagged heavily against Gerald’s body. His arm came around her, supporting her. “We’ll get him back, Ellen. I swear we will.”

  Mr. Sam came nearer, as if he expected Ellen to need his support too. She told herself to calm down. She’d be no help to her son if she became hysterical.

  With his arm still around her back, Gerald said, “Jim is working his way around to the front of the house. Since he’s already mounted, we’ll let him start following those tracks while we saddle more horses.”

  Ellen had been taking deep breaths and felt stronger. She started up the driveway that ran beside the house, eager to give Jim his assignment. Both of the men came with her. They had barely reached the front corner of the main wing, when a small buggy emerged from the trees and approached the house. The driver’s grey hair and hunched shoulders readily identified him as Silas Coyler. As the buggy came to a stop in front of the house, Ellen and ran toward it, calling, “Where is Toby? What have you done with him?”

  Gerald grabbed her arm and held her back.

  Mrs. Coyler raised her handkerchief to her face and began to boohoo.

  “Why are you here?” Gerald demanded.

  “So, it’s true, the boy’s not here?” Mr. Coyler asked.

  “We—can’t—find him,” Ellen said between gasps for breath.

  Gerald stepped in front of her. “What do you know about this, Coyler?”

  Mr. Coyler reached inside his jacket, pulled out a folded, soiled, piece of paper and handed it to Gerald. He opened the letter and read the scrawled words out loud:

  Coyler,

  Bring 500 pounds to the crossing of Briarwood and Old Mill Roads today at high noon or you will never see your grandson again. Come alone.

  * * * *

  Kidnapped! Toby had been kidnapped. Gerald felt as if he’d been kicked in the chest. Who the hell would do this? Who would dare to come onto his property—right up to his house—and take his son? Gerald glared at Coyler, who was looking paler than usual, and shook the paper as he demanded, “When did you get this?”

  “It was shoved under the door of our room at the inn. Found it as we were going to breakfast. I came here straight away to be sure it wasn’t some kind of prank.”

  “Will you pay the money?” Gerald asked.

  Coyler seemed affronted by his question. “Of course, I will, but I don’t carry that kind of cash with me. I need you to vouch for me at the local bank.”

  Gerald nodded at Coyler, “I’ll come with you, but we need to make some plans first. We have nearly five hours before noon.”

  By then all the men had gathered around them, and Mrs. Moore and Alice were standing near the front door of the house. Gerald checked the ransom note again. “Do any of you know where Briarwood and Old Mill Roads intersect?”

  Tully nodded. “The lane that goes past the stables joins up with Briarwood down near the river.”

  Mr. Moore eagerly added, “Old Mill Road crosses Main Street in town just before you get to the bank. It runs to a grist mill that went out of business years ago.”

  As he considered what needed to be done, Gerald rubbed his chin that bristled with his morning beard. “First, everyone needs to eat breakfast.” He looked toward the cook and raised his voice. “Mrs. Moore, can you feed this bunch?”

  “Give me ten minutes and folks can start eating.” She quickly turned back into the house, dragging Alice with her.

  While the old man climbed down from the buggy, Gerald extended his left arm to Mrs. Coyler and she leaned heavily against it as she descended from the carriage. Ellen’s voice, shaking with indignation suddenly boomed. “What are you doing? Go into town now! Report this to the constable! Start looking for Toby!”

  Gerald couldn’t believe that he had momentarily forgotten how upset she must be. He quickly moved to her side and put his arm around her shoulders. “We don’t know where to look, Ellen. If we cause a stir now, the kidnappers may hear of it and harm Toby. But we know where he will be at noon. We have to be ready then to protect him at all costs.”

  She stared up at him with deep creases between her eyes. Was her concern only over her son’s safety or did she doubt Gerald’s ability to protect the boy properly? For a moment he felt as if a weight had settled on his chest, preventing him from breathing. Perhaps she was right to question the ability of a one-armed man to stage a proper rescue. Perhaps he should go to the constable or the magistrate.

  What would they do but raise a group of local volunteers to flounder about the countryside? To hell with that. Toby was Gerald’s responsibility. He cared about that boy as if he were his own. He gripped Ellen’s shoulders and looked deeply into her eyes. “I will get Toby back. Whatever it takes I will bring him back to you. Trust me.”

  She stared back at him for a long moment and then jerked her head in consent.

  “Now please, come upstairs with me. I need your help.”

  They left the Coylers to fend for themselves and headed for the stairs. In their bedroom, he started stripping off his shirt. “Will you help me strap on the artificial arm?”

  “Why do you need that?” she asked.

  “We don’t know who’s involved in this, Ellen, and the people in town are accustomed to seeing me with the arm. I don’t want to attract undue attention when I go to the bank with Coyler.”

  He hoped, but didn’t say, that if the kidnappers were strangers, they would be more intimidated by a man they thought had two arms.

  Without another word, she went to the shelf where the leather arm rested. As soon as his shirt was off, she picked up the prosthesis and slid the cup over the stump of his arm. He adjusted the strap that ran over his shoulder, while she positioned the other strap around his body. She fastened the buckle in the center of his chest. “Is that tight enough?”

  He moved the stump of his real arm back and forth as much as possible. “Yes.”

  She went to the chest of drawers got a shirt with two sleeves and helped slip it over his arms. While he was one-handedly buttoning the shirt, she quickly unbuttoned his trousers, tucked in the shirt tail and re-buttoned his trousers.

  Once he was dressed, he went over to the closet, reached up to the top shelf, and pulled the wooden gun case from under a folded blanket. She hurried over to receive the case as he brought it down from over his head with a one-handed grip. “Do you think you’ll need this?”

  “Hopefully, this will be just a simple exchange of money for the boy, but people who steal children are bad, so we need to be prepared for any ev
entually.”

  Gerald sat on the side of the bed, opened the case and began to load the Colt.

  Ellen frowned for a moment before saying, “But the note said Mr. Coyler had to go alone. Are you going to give him your gun?”

  “Sending that old man alone to deal with people who will hang if they’re caught will increase the risk to both Coyler and Toby. Somebody has to be with him.”

  “But if the kidnappers see you—”

  “We’ll have the money. They have to approach us to get it. And I’ll make sure I see Toby unharmed before they get a dime.”

  Ellen clasped her hands together tightly. “Oh, Gerald, this sounds terribly dangerous.”

  He slipped a bullet into the revolver’s fifth chamber and looked deeply into her eyes. “I promise you, I will do everything in my power to get our boy back safe and sound.”

  She took a deep breath and nodded. He silently prayed that he would not disappoint her. As he flipped the chamber back into the revolver’s frame, he said, “Now look in the back of the closet for a brown jacket. I need something loose to hide the gun under.”

  She found the jacket and helped him into it. Then he slipped the revolver’s barrel under his belt, fastened a single button on the jacket, and asked, “Can you see the gun?”

  She nodded. “The grip sticks out a bit.”

  He repositioned the gun, refastened the jacket, and looked at her. “It doesn’t show,” she said, “But isn’t it dangerous to carry a loaded gun next to your body like that?”

  He shook his head. “It won’t fire unless it’s cocked. Now let’s go get some breakfast.”

  Gerald was relieved that Ellen seemed to be accepting his leadership in this matter. Until Coyer had handed him the ransom note, Gerald had been inclined to agree with her that the old man was behind Toby’s disappearance, but it didn’t make sense that he’d bring them the ransom note if he was. Gerald hoped to hell he was right.