But not for long. Emily’s ears pricked up as the wagon stopped. Stiff and sore, she squirmed about, finally working herself into an awkward sitting position. A moment later, the blankets were lifted away. She shook her head from side to side, coughing and choking. Lennie must have taken pity upon her. He removed the horrid gag. She gasped for breath, her chest aching from the sudden intake of cold January air.
“Where are we?” she asked, her throat raw and burning. When he lifted her from the wagon, she opened her eyes, expecting to see a wooden cabin or a small shack of some sort. The sight of a dusty gray tent, its flaps blowing in the harsh evening breeze, left her blinking in surprise. Army surplus, no doubt, a sorrowful reminder of the many lives lost in the fight for equality and justice. Emily had been a mere child during that unpleasantness, as people called it, and Colorado had seemed a world away from the hostilities between the rebel Confederates and the Union army of the glorious United States.
No time for history lessons to be running amok in her head. Emily shook the thoughts away, glanced quickly around the scene, and scrambled to come up with a way to free herself. But her mind—like her body—felt cold and stiff.
She shuddered, and in an unexpected act of kindness, the big man grabbed the blankets from the floor of the wagon’s bed. He wrapped them around her legs. Despite the disgusting odor, their warmth comforted her.
“Thank you,” she whispered, looking up into Lennie’s eyes. “Is this where you live?” she asked, wishing her voice didn’t sound quite so quivery and thin. She suspected that if this huge man knew her fear, he might well use it against her. Even with a limited mental capacity, he could surely sense fright—much like an animal might—and instinctively take advantage of it.
He grinned down at her. “Yeah, I live here now. I got run off at the last place.”
“The old cabin?” She remembered the November morning when she and Ben had caught sight of the man near Cody Bradford’s old place—which wasn’t too far from the Barron’s ranch. Most likely her brother-in-law or one of his hands had chased him away. Unfortunately, not far enough.
The big man terrified her, but she had to put her fear aside. Her best course, she could see, was to befriend the hapless fellow. Much like Della had done, she must show him kindness, praise him, and make him believe she enjoyed his company.
“It-it’s—cold out here.” Her teeth chattered and her body shook. “C-C-Could we g-go inside, p-p-please?”
“Yeah, I suppose so.”
“W-w-will you untie m-me?” she asked, hoping she hadn’t pushed her luck too much.
“You won’t try to run away, will you?”
“N-no, of course n-not. It’s too cold.” She shuddered again for dramatic effect. “Please, let’s go inside.”
He nodded, carried her to the tent, and pushed open the flap.
True to his word, he released her from the ropes that bound her. Clutching at her bag, she nodded her thanks, then crawled backward toward a corner. There, she sat hunched over and still shaking, grateful for the freedom to move her arms and legs again, and grateful, too, for the relative comfort of the large tent. She pulled the rough blankets closer and tucked them around her legs. Gradually the shivering stopped.
Her natural curiosity soon took over, leading her to look around, to make note of everything she saw and commit each detail to memory.
Although she knew very little about the war between the states or the specifics of how it had been fought, she guessed that such a large, commodious tent must have once belonged to an officer. Almost, but not quite square, it measured a good ten feet from side to side, slightly longer in one direction than the other. Thick quilts covered the floor. Little else graced the humble abode. She saw one rickety old wooden chair with a leg broken off and immediately thought of grabbing it for a club. Common sense warned her against such a bold act. She could not do any physical harm to a man of Lennie’s size. She’d only end up hurting herself and making him angry.
But she could definitely use his dimness against him. Having already judged him a talkative sort, she settled herself on the quilts and smiled at him as another plan formed in her mind.
“You and Della are going to get the gold, aren’t you? That’s very clever of you.”
Her mind raced back to her days at Miss Brundage’s Female Academy. Even though she’d attended the school for only a short time, she had paid attention to her lessons, despite Miss Brundage’s insistence otherwise. Emily had actually learned a lot—maybe not about manly parts and sinful acts, but about how to deal with children, how to talk to them, how to make them feel valued and appreciated.
Always speak in a gentle voice.
Offer praise wherever possible.
Encourage the child to share thoughts and feelings.
Emily smiled again, then boldly reached out to pat the man’s huge, callused hand. “Della is a very pretty girl, don’t you think?”
The man’s dull eyes lit up. “She likes me,” he said, leaning a bit closer, as though he were confiding a well-kept secret. “She said once I help her get the gold, we’ll go away together. Just me and her.” His face contorted. “You ain’t gonna run off now, are you? I don’t want to hurt you.”
Frightened anew, Emily drew back. “Oh, no, I won’t run off.” Was it wrong to make a promise she didn’t intend to keep if breaking it meant the difference between living and dying? Although she didn’t want to believe the man capable of violence, she didn’t trust him. She couldn’t take that risk. “It’s too cold,” she reminded him, adding another exaggerated shiver. Keeping her voice calm and soothing, she said, “Tell me more about Della. She likes you a lot, I’m sure.”
Her words obviously pleased the fellow, to judge by the broad smile. But he backed away.
“You got to excuse me a minute. I got to step outside…to do…something.”
Emily almost laughed. As he stood there with his hand at his crotch, grabbing at his manly parts, all the while bouncing from one foot to the next like a five-year-old, she knew exactly what his problem was. Nature was calling.
“I won’t look,” she assured him, putting her hands over her eyes.
“I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”
She waited until he left the tent, then crawled to the flap and opened it slightly, just enough to see how far from the camp he’d gone. When she spotted him standing near a grove of trees, she scrambled to her feet. Her first inclination was to bolt and run. But nervous and shaking, Emily’s legs would not carry her far. Lennie would catch her. He would tie her again. Maybe gag her again.
The thought left her stomach roiling.
Another idea! Perhaps she could pretend to be sick. Truly, it would require very little pretense on her part.
Still, even though feigning illness might distract the man temporarily, it wouldn’t allow her a sure means of escape. Worse, once he laid hands on her again, he would surely truss her up once more. He might even deliver her back to Della—and who knew what she might choose to do.
Frustrated at her inability to come up with a single ruse to use against this half-wit, Emily huffed out a breath, folded her arms around herself, and pouted. She was supposed to be so smart. She was supposed to have a keen, quick mind, capable of figuring out any riddle. Yet here she sat like the proverbial bump on a log, at the mercy of a fellow whose thinker was, to use a term she’d heard from her Pa, plumb puny.
Give him what he wants. Let him think you’re on his side.
She choked back her apprehension and smiled when Lennie returned to the tent.
“You see? I’m still here.”
Settling himself close beside her, Lennie nodded, clearly pleased.
For several minutes, Emily observed him but found it impossible to read his mood or guess his thoughts. She sucked in a deep breath and braced herself.
“I know where the gold is.”
Confusion showed on his face. He shook his big, shaggy head. “No, you don’t. Della said on
ly that cowboy knows. He’s got a map. That’s why I have to keep you here. After the cowboy finds the gold and gives it to Della, I’ll let you go.”
A good plan, all things considered. Never mind that it wouldn’t work.
She thought again of the cryptic cipher, suddenly remembering that she’d tucked her copy inside the bag. A surge of excitement—and hope—flooded her. “Ben doesn’t have the map. I do.”
“No. She said the cowboy had it.”
“Della made a mistake,” she told him, her voice quiet and gentle. “Here, let me show you.” Moving very slowly, she reached into the canvas bag and plucked out the crazy cipher with its jumble of numbers. Most likely the dumb brute wouldn’t know the difference.
But Lennie wasn’t having it. Obviously smarter than she’d given him credit for, he shook his head. “That ain’t no map. That’s just a bunch of numbers.”
Quick thinking saved her. “Yes, you’re right, it is all numbers.” She beamed an appreciative smile his way. “That’s the secret, you see.” As she spoke the words, she leaned forward and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial tone, drawing him closer. “When Della’s father hid the gold, he knew he had to be very smart. He couldn’t leave an ordinary map that anyone could follow. Only the most clever, and the bravest,” she added, thinking that might garner a bit of favor from him, “would be able to figure it out. Here, come closer,” she whispered, motioning for him to draw nearer still. “Let me show you how it works.”
His expression seemed dubious at first, but then a broad smile appeared. “I’m very brave. Della tells me the same thing.”
“Why, yes. Brave enough…” To abduct a helpless female. Brave enough to do Della’s bidding. She bit back those thoughts. “Brave enough to find the hidden treasure,” she said, adding a huge smile. Her hands shook as she jabbed a finger at the top of the page. “This is the starting point. The spring house,” she added. Unsure of how much Della might have told him, she must be certain nothing she said aroused suspicion or distrust. “She told you about the spring house, didn’t she?”
He nodded. “That’s where the map was buried. But then the cowboy dug it up. He took it.”
“No, he didn’t.” Emily held her breath for a few seconds. It actually annoyed her that her part in finding the treasure map wasn’t being acknowledged. She sighed. What difference did it make? Setting her thoughts back to the immediate moment, she contemplated her next move. “He had the map, yes, but he couldn’t figure it out.”
“He wasn’t smart enough?”
“That’s right. So, I took the map.” How absurd that she should feel so smug about it. She pushed the irksome thought away and held the crumpled sheet of paper up. “Now, you and I can go get the gold. We can go dig it up…” And then what? Her mind raced. Had she fibbed herself into a worse predicament now? What if this fellow wanted to follow her so-called map—which wasn’t a map at all and which led nowhere?
“No.” Lennie shot to his feet, his movements surprisingly swift for his size. “You can’t have that gold. It belongs to Della.” He reached down, snatched the page from Emily’s fingers and shook it at her. “I’ll get the gold myself.”
“Yes, that’s exactly what you should do!” Emily’s whole body trembled. “Go on, hurry! You have to get back to the spring house. Start there, then follow the numbers. Thirteen,” she said, struggling to recall the first line of the cipher. “Thirteen steps…to the north. Then turn to the east. Six steps. To the south next…”
“I can figure it out,” he said. “You wait here. You can’t go anywhere. Remember?”
“Yes, I remember. I’ll be right here.” She smiled and waved. “It won’t take long for you to find the gold now that you have the map. Della will be so proud of you. She’ll be very happy.”
She gave him another cheery wave as he rushed from the tent. Emily slipped to the front, pushed back the flap and laughed as Lennie climbed aboard the wagon and set off in the direction from which they’d come. Imagine the look on Della’s face when he showed up at the horse farm again! She almost wished she could be there to see it.
But then, she realized how much danger she’d placed herself in by sending Lennie back. Della would be furious. Emily must get away.
Slowly, she counted off the seconds as they passed, allowing several minutes to go by before she moved even a muscle. She continued watching, hoping the man did not turn back. Each breath she took left her slightly calmer, slightly more certain that the incompetent Lennie had truly believed her imaginative tale of the map of numbers. While she found it sad to think of a grown man having no more intelligence than a child of four or five, she gave thanks that he at least had wits enough to know his numbers and ability enough to comprehend the instructions she’d given.
She gave thanks, too, that no real harm had befallen her—other than the indignity of being thrown about, bound and gagged. Nauseated by the thought, she poked her head out, needing a fresh, cleansing breath. Certain now that Lennie was not going to return, she stepped out into the coldness of the winter evening.
The growing darkness loomed around her, yet the air felt clean and invigorating. Emily spat out the bad taste in her mouth, then peered across the cold, foreboding landscape. She’d survived. She’d come through her ordeal unscathed.
Anxious to move on, she returned to the tent, grabbed the grubby blankets and threw them over her head and shoulders. Her cloak alone would not provide sufficient protection from the cruel elements.
Now she faced another challenge. How would she get out of this treacherous wilderness and reach the safety of home, family…and Benjamin? The thought of her broken promise to him flitted through her mind. Most likely he’d have a few words to say about her unwise decision to open the door to Della, but when he learned of her bravery and how she’d used her wits to secure her escape, he would praise her cleverness. He would be grateful, too, that nothing awful had happened, and in the end, he would forgive her for not strictly obeying his instructions.
Far in the distance, Emily caught sight of a light burning—or thought she did. She strained her eyes to see, then shook her head. She’d seen nothing at all. The glowing light must have been nothing more than a trick of her imagination.
Darkness soon descended, and as Emily stumbled forth, she stared up into the sky, wishing she knew the methods sailors and travelers used to take their bearing from the stars. North and east. Those were the directions she must follow to safety. Of course, she had only to glance toward the mountains to know where the west lay. Lennie, she reasoned, had headed due north, back toward the wooden bridge. Once safely across the icy creek, he would turn eastward, then ride on toward the Henderson place.
Emily would not follow the same path. Instead, she would set off to the east now and avoid the horse farm. Getting too close could mean being spotted by the giant. For that matter, with the crazy directions she’d given him and all those jumbled numbers on the cipher page, he could be wandering around anywhere. No, she did not dare venture too close to Tom’s property.
Due east. Keep going.
Emily squared her shoulders, pulled the blankets tighter, and took the first of what she knew would be many steps.
Due east. Keep going.
She repeated those words over and over as she lifted first one foot and then the other. The most fortuitous turn of events would be to come across a cabin where a family lived. There were many small farms in the area, little homesteads where a man and his wife might settle and raise their brood. She knew the Hubbard family lived on a small plot of land. The Potters, too, lived somewhere outside of Sunset. If only she knew exactly where!
Due east. Keep going.
She followed a slight pathway that led through a stand of pines, keeping a vigilant look for wild creatures that might be out prowling in the night. Bears, pumas, moose, and elk abounded in the area. She would not want to meet with any one of them on a frosty winter night.
Why hadn’t she thought to pack a weapon? She
had nothing with which to defend herself.
“Not true,” she whispered. She had her own resourcefulness, and she had faith. She’d grown up believing in the power of prayer. Now, each step became a silent entreaty. She trusted the Lord to show her the way, to deliver her from harm.
As she wound her way through the dense forest, she kept her head down, carefully watching each step. Even now, months after her fall from the stage platform, her ankle still pained her if she walked too far. Already it had begun to throb. She suspected she’d worn a blister on her heel, as well. Her steps grew slower, more cautious.
Suddenly a light flared around her. No trick of imagination, it bobbed and weaved in the blackness of the pine forest. Caught off-guard, Emily shrieked and drew back as the light came closer. She turned and tried to run but her weak ankle gave out. Still afoot, she hobbled as best she could, but she’d been seen. Hoof beats bore down upon her as a man on horseback gave chase. Within seconds he’d caught up with her. The lantern clattered to the ground. The rider leaned sideward, and then, like an eagle swooping down on a helpless prairie chicken, the horseman snatched her up. Muscular arms held her in a sure grip.
Emily turned to stare into the face of her captor, the face of a man she recognized at once, the face of a cold-blooded killer.
She kicked and squirmed as John Brooks pulled his horse up.
“Fancy meeting you out here, Miss Phillips.” He had a laugh like a jackass. His lips pulled back to reveal crooked, tobacco-stained teeth and gums. “I don’t know what you’re doing, but I’ve got a feeling you might come in handy.”
“Put me down. Let me go!” She jerked about, trying to strike at him or the horse with her heels. “I don’t know anything. I can’t help you.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” He laughed again. “Hard to trust anybody in my line of work. Never hurts to have a little insurance, you know.”
Sharp retorts sprang to her mind. All useless. Telling John Brooks what she thought of him and his line of work would do nothing to save her. Again, she regretted not packing a pistol or knife. How easily a weapon would have fit into the canvas bag. She felt its strap pressing against her shoulder and realized she still carried it with her. But it would not save her either. Emily sighed.
9781631054617HeLovesMeCole Page 28