Meggie felt the cold air assault her body as the blanket was pulled back.
“It’s a young woman. Come on over here.” The woman placed on hand on Meggie’s forehead. “Good Lord, the girl’s burning up. We’ve got to get her out of here.”
Meggie tried to open her eyes. It wasn’t surprising that she didn’t recognize either of the voices. Jeremiah isolated them from most people, preferring to keep their solitary life at the farm. Her eyes felt heavy and her head still pounded from the raging headache she’d woken to earlier.
“I…” Meggie tried to talk but couldn’t get the words out.
“Now don’t you worry, girl. Agnes and me will get you to our place real soon.”
The next thing Meggie remembered was being placed in a warm, comfortable bed. She’d drifted off during the journey with no recollection of how they’d gotten here.
“I’ll get cool water and a cloth while you grab extra blankets,” she heard Agnes say to George.
Each time she’d drift off she would wake to someone wiping her with a cold cloth, giving her sips of water, or honey with lemon to help her cough. She knew she’d lost at least another day and night while they tended to her. Dreams assaulted Meggie when she slept. Images of Dodge would combine with those of Grace, Eugene, Skanks, and Jeremiah. She saw herself running, trying to get away, but being restrained by a man with a mask. She screamed, sat up, and lashed out at the man, kicking and slapping at his covered face.
“It’s okay now, you’re going to be all right,” a voice soothed. “You’re safe with us.”
Meggie could feel herself relax and fall back onto the bed. She opened her eyes to see an elderly woman leaning over a basin of water to wring out a cloth then place it on Meggie’s forehead.
“Who…uh…who are you?” she managed to ask through her parched throat and mouth.
“So, you’re awake.” The woman put a hand behind Meggie’s head and lifted. “Let’s see if we can get some water down you, all right?”
With the woman’s help Meggie was able to get a few sips of water down her throat. It felt wonderful.
“Thank you.”
“”We’re just glad we found you when we did. You were in pretty bad shape in that old shack. No one’s lived there for years.”
Meggie didn’t respond but stayed still, watching the woman move around the small bedroom. She heard a door open, then close.
“George,” the woman called. “She’s awake and I think her fever’s broke.”
“Well, that’s real good.”
Meggie looked up to see an elderly man, lean and stooped, stand over her. He placed a hand on her forehead. “Yep, seems like it has broken.” His eyes moved from his wife back to Meggie. “You have a name, girl?”
“Meghan,” she coughed out. It was her given name, though no one had ever called her that. Not even her parents.
“Meghan, huh? You got a last name?”
“Delaney.” A small lie, she thought.
“Well, Meghan Delaney, I’m George Hines and this is my wife, Gladys. You from around here?” He sat down on a ladder back chair a couple of feet away.
“No, not really.” She had no intention of mentioning Jeremiah Moser.
“So, how’d you come to hole up in that shack alone?”
“Now, George, don’t badger the poor girl.”
“I’m not badgering her, Agnes, I’m just trying to find who her kinfolk are.” He turned his attention back to Meggie. “You got kin here?”
She hesitated a moment. “No, I don’t have any family. Here or anywhere.” Meggie pulled the heavy quilt up under her chin as exhaustion overtook her.
“That’s enough for now. Meghan needs her rest.” Agnes grabbed the washbasin and cloth. “We’ll figure things out when she gets her strength back.” She closed the door behind her and George.
“Agnes, you know that Mormon farmer, Jeremiah Moser, came by a couple of days ago looking for one of his wives. He called her Meggie and she fits the description. She’s got to be the same person.”
“Yes, she most likely is.” Agnes continued into the kitchen wondering why the girl had lied to them and what had made her run.
“We can’t just keep her with us when he’s looking for her.”
She turned from the sink and laced her hands in front of her. “That girl is sick. She ran from the man and she’s lying about not having a family. Something is wrong, and I’m not sending her back until I know what’s going on.”
“But she’s his wife,” George began.
“That’s what he says,” Agnes interrupted. “But I’ll bet Meghan will say different. You know I don’t hold with the Mormon way of having more than one wife and I won’t interfere if she wants to be with that man. But if she doesn’t want to go back, or she isn’t his wife, then I don’t see how we can send her away until we know why she ran. She’s a grown woman, not a child.”
George understood his wife’s thinking. Neither of them approved of the multiple marriages practiced by some Mormons. However, they’d never interfered with the beliefs that several of their neighbors shared. Living so far from the city was challenging and it was wise to maintain strong relationships with those around you. He had no intention of letting the arrival of this young woman damage the friendships Agnes and he had developed over many years.
“We’ll give her a couple of days to rest up. After that, I want some answers from her. Truthful answers, not the lies she told us today.” George jammed his old hat down on his bald head and trudged out the door.
******
“Don’t let her out of your sight,” Connor cautioned Jericho. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, but it could be late.”
“I’ll watch her, as if she were my own,” Jericho said and turned to walk back into the house. “You be safe,” he called as the front door closed behind him.
Connor had met Fred and Roy then rode to the Moser farm. It had been a quick journey with clear skies. They’d stopped at Homer Erickson’s, thanking the man, and dropping off coffee and supplies to replenish what they’d used.
“He’s at the farm, all right. At least, he was a couple of days ago. Came by here looking for one of the women who lives with him. Moser called her his fourth wife. Guess she took off while he and the other ones were at some kind of meeting. He was as mad as I’ve ever seen him.” Homer shook his head and chuckled. “Don’t believe he found her because I saw him ride out again yesterday and he came back without her. It sure don’t bode well for that gal if he does find her and it’s my guess that he will. There just aren’t many places a young woman can hide around here, not with all the other people of their faith who live out this way.”
Connor, Fred, and Roy exchanged looks.
“We best get going, Homer. Thanks again for your hospitality.” Connor swung up on Crusader and nudged his horse forward.
“You let me know what happens,” Homer called after them as they made the turn up the long dirt road to the farm.
It was mid-morning when they slid from their horses and hid them behind a thick stand of trees. They were about two hundred yards from the farm house. A buggy, and a wagon were parked alongside the barn, and two horses were in a corral. Three children, all girls, played as one woman watched them. Connor pulled out his field glasses. It wasn’t Meggie.
They moved forward, staying behind trees, and bushes until they had gotten as close as possible without being seen.
“I’m going to get as close to the back of the house as possible, see if I can see anyone else,” Connor whispered.
“What if Moser comes out and leaves?” Fred asked.
“Follow him. I’ll catch up with you.” Connor moved away, toward the barn, staying low, and hoping no one spotted him.
He made it to a small corral behind the barn where the two horses grazed. Neither looked up at his approach. He’d made the decision to move again when he heard a man’s voice.
“Ada, bring the girls in with Nina. I’m leaving and I want
everyone inside.”
“Yes, Jeremiah,” the woman called Ada responded. She gathered the three children and scooted them in through the back door.
A few minutes later Moser walked out, hitched horses to the wagon, and climbed onto the seat.
“Jeremiah,” another woman called. “You want us to wait supper?”
“No. I don’t know when I’ll return.” He slapped the reins on the horses to begin the slow trek off the property.
Connor watched him move past where Fred and Roy waited, then made his way back to them and their horses.
“Shouldn’t be hard to keep him in sight. He doesn’t appear to be in much of a hurry.” Roy said as the three mounted.
Roy had been right. Moser moved at a slow pace turning away from Salt Lake on Old Pioneer Road, heading north. They followed him for almost thirty minutes before Connor reined his horse to a stop. Fred and Roy pulled up next to him.
“You two continue to follow him. I’m going back. See if I can get anyone at the farm to speak with me.”
This time Connor rode straight to the house and knocked on the door. It took a while before a woman opened the door a couple of inches and peeked out.
“Mr. Moser isn’t home now. You’ll have to come back,” the woman said and began to close the door before Connor stopped it with his boot.
“I’m not here to see Mr. Moser.” His foot didn’t budge.
“We aren’t buying anything if that’s what you want.”
“Nope. I’m looking for a young woman named Meggie. She’s…” Connor started but at the mention of Meggie’s name the woman pushed hard on the door almost dislodging his boot. He held his hand up to stop her efforts.
“Who is it, Nina?” another woman called from inside the house.
“I can handle it, Ada. He’s leaving,” Nina replied as she again tried to shove the door closed.
“Ada,” Connor called into the house. “I’m speaking to Nina about a woman I’m looking for. Her name’s Meggie and she’s my sister.”
“We don’t know any Meggie,” Nina began but Ada’s voice stopped her.
Connor looked through the open door to see the other woman make her way across the foyer.
“Of course we know Meggie. Why would you tell this man that we don’t?” Ada stopped to look at Connor ignoring Nina’s angry expression. “You say you know Meggie?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m her brother, Connor MacLaren.”
Ada looked him up and down before letting her eyes return to his. “What’s your brother’s name?”
“Pierce.”
Her face stayed expressionless. “Where were you from?”
“Scotland, originally, but we lived in Red Hook before Meggie disappeared.” This last had the woman’s face break into a smile.
“Well, I’ll be. This is Meggie’s brother, Nina.” She glanced at Nina, waiting for her to move away. “She mentioned a different last name, though, not MacLaren.” Ada nudged Nina aside and pulled the door open.
Connor wanted to scream with satisfaction that he’d finally found her—at least where she lived. His heart pounded as he worked to keep his composure. The last thing he wanted was to scare the women.
“Jeremiah won’t like this when he comes home,” Nina hissed but stepped out of the way so Connor could enter.
“May I get you anything, Mr. MacLaren?” Ada asked as she showed him into the front room.
“Water would be fine, ma’am.”
Ada left, leaving him alone with Nina who didn’t sit but stood against a wall, glaring at him. The three young girls returned with Ada, one handing Connor a glass of water.
“Thank you,” Connor smiled at the girl who blushed and stepped behind Ada. He took a swallow of water, watching the five females stare at him. None of the girls looked anything like Meggie, or Pierce, or him. “What’s your name?” He asked the tallest girl who stood apart, near the foyer.
She looked up at Nina, her mother, who nodded. “Janie.”
“And how old are you, Janie?”
“Nine. My sister Mary is seven,” she pointed to the next oldest, “and Essie is four.”
“Well, you’re all real pretty.” He finished the water and handed the empty glass to Ada. “Thank you. That was just right.”
“Why do you want Meggie?” Nina asked, trying to pull her two girls behind her.
“He knows Meggie, Mama?” Mary asked Nina.
“Shush, Mary, and let the man talk.”
“She went missing years ago and I’ve been looking for her ever since. Found out that someone had spotted her in Salt Lake and learned she might be living out here on the farm.” Connor watched Ada. She seemed to know Meggie better.
“Meggie ran away,” the littlest girl blurted before being hushed by her mother, Ada.
“Ran away?” Connor asked.
Ada took a seat near Connor and laced her hands together in her lap. “We believe she left about three days ago, during the rain storm. The girls were in bed and the rest of us were at a church meeting. We didn’t get home until morning and that’s when the girls told us they couldn’t find Meggie.”
Connor absorbed the words, taking a deep breath to calm the disappointment that engulfed him. “Could she have been taken?”
“I don’t believe so, Mr. MacLaren. Some of her clothes were gone as well as some food. Plus, well,” she looked at Nina before proceeding, “some money Mr. Moser kept for emergencies is missing.”
“Has Mr. Moser been looking for her?”
“Oh, yes. Every day he takes the wagon out and looks for her. He’s gone all the way to the edge of Salt Lake over the last two days and today he’s going north. We just hope she’s safe,” Ada said. She was glad no one could read her thoughts. If they could, they’d realize that she’d prayed over and over the last three days that Meggie was safe and far away from Jeremiah Moser.
“Well, I thank you ladies for the information. Best I get going and help Mr. Moser look for her. I’m sure she’s safe, somewhere.” Connor placed his hat back on his head and started for the door.
“Mr. MacLaren, wait just a minute,” Ada said and hurried out of the room and up the stairs. Moments later she was back downstairs, holding something out to him. “Here, you take this with you. It was Meggie’s. She kept it all these years. Told me it was what she wore the night she was kidnapped. I was surprised it was still in her room.”
Connor stared at the ragged shawl Meggie loved to wear. It had been their mother’s. He held out a shaky hand and gently took the woven garment from Ada.
“Thank you, ma’am.” His voice was strained and almost broke from the emotion he felt at seeing the shawl. He looked at Ada, nodded once more, and then walked out the front door, closing it softly behind him.
Chapter Seventeen
Jericho walked around the Dix property once more, checking for anything that might indicate Len Proctor, Earl Swain, or Bert Newell had found Grace. He’d done this several times today and each time found nothing to indicate anyone had been on the property.
It wasn’t a large lot. There was a short drive for the wagon, a small stable for the horses, and a corral behind the house. A wagon couldn’t get through the back area but a horse and rider could. There were several trees but not much shrubbery that would hide a man. The sun had set, leaving the sky dark on a night that featured a sliver of a moon. He knew Grace was in the kitchen making supper while they waited for Connor’s return.
Jericho had just opened the door when a bullet whizzed past, breaking a window, and sending shards of glass in all directions. He pulled his gun, turned toward the front yard, and crouched low as a second bullet nicked him in the shoulder, sending him falling backward into the house. He kicked the door closed and rolled in front of a sofa, resting his back against it and checking his injured shoulder.
“Grace!”
At the sound of gunfire she’d dropped behind the cabinets. She pulled a handgun Connor had given her from her dress pocket and held it in fro
nt of her.
“I’m in the kitchen,” she yelled back.
“Get to the back room and lock the door. Don’t come out until I tell you.”
“But…”
“Just do it, Grace.”
He watched as she dashed into the hall and disappeared into the last bedroom.
“Come on out and we won’t hurt the woman,” a man called from outside. “We’re after MacLaren. You tell us where he is and we won’t harm anyone.”
Jericho knew the lie for what it was and ignored the threat. He rolled so that his body was positioned under a window. Jericho looked out. He could see one man about thirty feet away moving from the trees toward the house. Jericho aimed and fired. The man dropped his gun, grabbed at his chest, and fell.
“Damn it, Earl. I told you to stay put,” the leader called.
Jericho figured Len Proctor was the one yelling orders. Earl Swain was down. Bert Newell was still out there with Proctor. Grace was safe in the bedroom. Jericho prayed she’d stay there.
Jericho shifted his weight, and rolled, needing to move to the other side of the room where he could get a better view, but the front door bursting open stopped him. Len Proctor pointed his pistol at Jericho and fired. The bullet pierced his wrist, causing him to release his gun.
“Where’s MacLaren?” Procter sneered stepping closer, aiming at Jericho. “Tell me, or the first bullet will be to a knee. The second to your other knee, then your arm until you’ll beg to tell me where he is.”
“I don’t know who MacLaren is. Why don’t you enlighten me?” Jericho spat out while trying to locate his gun.
Proctor pulled the trigger, the shot splitting the wooden floor a few inches from Jericho’s chest. “Not good enough. Try again,” Proctor hissed.
Connor heard the shots from a couple of blocks away and pushed Crusader into a run. He pulled his gun as he approached the Dix property and saw one man down, another crouched behind the wagon. As Connor got closer he could see it was Bert Newell—they’d found Grace. He charged full speed into the yard and aimed just as Bert started to stand. One shot from Connor’s gun and the killer fell backward.
Connor jumped from Crusader and ran toward the front steps, dropping behind the rails when he heard a shot from inside.
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