Daughter of Dark River Farm

by Terri Nixon

  ‘Hurry, Archie’s…just hurry.’ I put my hand on his forearm, the one he had so recently bound to mine, and it felt warm and strong beneath my fingers; it seemed I was not the only one who could lie.

  I heard another voice joining Jessie’s out in the yard. Jessie’s was muffled, but as Belinda stepped closer to the door I heard her clearly. ‘What’s he done to Archie?’

  ‘He’s opened his chest from shoulder to bloody breastbone!’ I shouted, infuriated by all the talking, when Archie lay at my side barely breathing. ‘Do something!’

  There was a shocked silence, then Belinda said calmly, ‘Get Pirate.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Do it!’ I screamed, my throat hurting with the effort. All it had taken had been two words from the flighty, hopelessly scatterbrained Belinda, and I knew exactly what she had in mind. I wanted to hug her, but all I could do was scramble over to where we kept the rope for tying things into the cart. And for making halters for illicit horse riding… I made a strangled sound that was half laugh, half sob as I remembered Archie’s reaction. I fed one end of the rope out beneath the door, and felt it snagged immediately, and pulled, and then it snaked past me at a terrific speed, the very last coil whipping around and snapping against my leg. I yelped, and Belinda shouted, ‘Sorry!’ But my heart was leaping with relief.

  A moment later I heard Pirate snorting, protesting at being dragged out of his nice warm stall and made to stand still in the chilly darkness of the yard. Jessie didn’t say anything. She had obviously seen Belinda’s plan as well, and I knew that later we’d both be reminded whose idea it was, and made to suffer accordingly…but Bel would have earned that moment of glory.

  Belinda had tied the halter as quickly as she had before, and now she took the trailing end and, instead of looping it into a rein, I heard her slip it beneath the barrel of the bolt where it crossed the tiny gap between door and jamb. Then, talking gently, she began to coax Pirate into walking backwards. He made a whickering sound, and didn’t move. Bel spoke to him again, and I could hear his hooves shifting in the dirt by the door, and then, to my relief, he began to move back. The rope pulled tight against the bolt, and I could hear Bel patting Pirate’s powerful neck as she talked to him, and he pulled again. And again.

  I crawled around in the darkness by the door, until my hand fell on what I was searching for and I jerked back in instinctive revulsion at the greasy feel of blood on the spike. Then I grabbed it again and shoved it under the door. It snagged a little at the widest point, but I pushed harder, and the bottom of the door splintered enough to allow it to pass under.

  ‘Jessie,’ I shouted, ‘get that under the bolt and lever it off!’ Pirate jerked at the sudden sound of my voice, and the rope slackened, but soon tightened again as Belinda urged him on. I heard Jessie sliding the dibble beneath the bolt, and pulling hard on it, groaning with the effort.

  ‘Should have let Colin put this bolt on,’ she muttered. ‘Frances did too good a job.’

  And then it happened. Between Jessie’s levering and Pirate’s pulling, the screws tore loose from the wood, and bolt and padlock flew off together. The door creaked open and a lantern flashed, and two voices began to speak at once. I ignored them both and crawled back to Archie, and they followed; Jessie crouched at his other side, and Belinda knelt beside me, and touched my arm. She was trying to say sorry, I knew, but she had saved us. I shook my head and turned my attention back to where it wanted to be.

  He was stirring again, and when he opened his eyes he blinked against the light, and instinctively tried to raise his hand, but I thought he looked stronger. Or maybe it was hope that made me think it.

  ‘How do you feel?’ I asked. ‘We need to get you out. Can you stand?’

  ‘Aye,’ he croaked. ‘Give me a minute though.’

  ‘He keeps rallying, and then slumping again,’ I said, worried.

  ‘That’s bullheaded Scots determination for you,’ Jessie murmured, and I couldn’t help a tiny smile. But I knew I couldn’t stay here, and at least Archie wouldn’t be alone now.

  ‘I’m going to get Amy back, somehow,’ I told him, squeezing his hand in farewell.

  His confused mind was gradually untangling, and he looked at me worriedly. ‘For God’s sake be careful, but…Kitty, you have to tell him. He mustn’t let anyone see he has that stone.’

  ‘You can’t go, Kitty,’ Bel protested. ‘It’s too dangerous. I’ll go for the constable instead.’

  Archie shook his head. ‘No, you’ll panic him. And it’ll take too long.’

  I turned to Jessie. ‘How long ago did you see the cart?’

  ‘About an hour, I suppose.’

  ‘Going towards Princetown,’ I confirmed, and she nodded.

  I took Archie’s face in my hands and kissed him, and before he had the chance to do or say anything else, I was back on my feet and running towards the door. ‘Look after him,’ I said, and it was a struggle not to cry. ‘Please, look after him for me.’

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I bent and untied the end of Belinda’s home-made halter, wincing as one of my blisters broke, and flicked it up to fasten it as a rein. There was no time to tack him up properly, so I led Pirate to the mounting block in the yard, and a moment later I was on his back and urging him into a walk. I wanted to be able to ride fast and hard over the moors, but although it was mid-August, it was well past ten o’clock and almost pitch black, so instead I let him pick his way up the lane and out onto the main road. There were few stars, the sliver of moon gave very little light, and we made slow progress, but at least I wasn’t walking or running and wearing myself out.

  I talked to Pirate as we plodded towards Princetown, telling him everything that was in my heart, but despite my calm voice I could feel the panic growing. Amy was not at the farm or one of the others would have seen her, yet Jessie hadn’t seen her in the cart…perhaps Nathan had told her to lie down? But that was a cause for worry too, because if he still had her she was in as much danger as if he’d turned her loose on the road. I remembered Archie’s words: they’ll no stop at Nathan… Surely they wouldn’t hurt such a sweet, quiet child, even if they… I shuddered and shook the thought of Nathan’s possible fate aside. It would help no-one to think about that. They might let her go. They might.

  Or they might find someone like that awful Dyer woman Jessie had told me about, and give her over, just to be rid of her. My breath hitched at the thought, and I only realised my knees had tensed as Pirate shifted into a fast trot. I let him go; the thought of Nathan and Amy getting onto a train to an unknown destination but for the sake of a few minutes was eating away at my sense of caution.

  Before long The Plume of Feathers loomed on my right, and with it the realisation of my utter stupidity. I’d had the answer all along—I could have prevented this! One word to Nathan about Amy’s money would have stopped him; if I hadn’t been so panicked, so terrified… If it had helped at that moment, I might have thrown myself off Pirate and lain on the ground, screaming at the sky. As it was I just slapped hard at my leg, welcoming the distraction of the thin, self-inflicted pain in my hand as I turned down towards the station. I had been stupid, yes, but as long as I found Nathan I might still be able to stop him from running off again. I spared a quick glance back at the inn, and was humbled by the knowledge of the friendship that lay behind its walls. I would have need of that friendship soon; I hoped they would understand. It was for Amy, after all.

  The station was deserted; no trains were due, and none had recently departed and left behind the usual clutch of passengers waiting for further transport. I slid off Pirate’s back, wondering vaguely how I would get back up again if I needed to, and hooked the halter over the rail, tying a quick knot and snugging it over the post. I patted the warm, gleaming neck that steamed gently in the low light that shone through the window of the stationmaster’s office, and decided to go in and ask if a man and a little girl had been spotted nearby. It was possible someone may have pointe
d them in the direction of a hotel, at least. Turning to climb the steps to the platform, I felt a surge of relief as I caught sight of the farm trap. It stood behind the station, near the big sheds, and Pippin was standing patiently in the traces—he couldn’t have been there very long either, or he’d have been pulling and complaining by now. I’d made better time than I could have hoped.

  Now my mind was freed of that worry, I allowed Archie back into my thoughts. Had he been able to leave the barn under his own strength—and what Jessie had accurately described as bullheaded Scots determination—or was he waiting for medical help? Was he still in pain, or had he been cared for and was now resting comfortably in bed? When I thought about what Evie had gone through earlier in the year, I wondered how she had survived the terror and the grief without being driven mad by it. I felt as if I were coming apart inside. The need to be close to Archie was a physical ache that only the sight of him could cure. Until I was back at his side I would be useless to everyone.

  My anger towards Nathan was returning now, but I fought to keep it under control as I walked over towards Pippin, who whickered gently in recognition. ‘Where are they then, my friend, eh?’ I said gently. He blew down his nose and shifted in the traces, making his harness rattle. I smoothed him down and patted his shoulder, and looked around, my fear for Amy a growing, cramping thing in my belly.

  ‘Amy!’ I shouted, and my voice sounded furious and loud in my head, but out here in the cool night it just sounded small and scared. I tried again, finding a little more strength. ‘Amy!’ Pippin tossed his head and snorted, and I heard an answering whicker from the fence where Pirate was tied. No sound came from anywhere else. If Amy had heard me, surely she would answer? I tried to deny the picture of a small, still body somewhere nearby, a bloodied patch matting white-blonde hair…but my imagination had always been one of my biggest enemies, and it would not easily be banished.

  ‘Amy, it’s all right. Nobody’s cross.’ I tried a different approach. ‘Mister Archie’s waiting for you. Don’t you want to come and see him?’

  I waited, breathless, feeling sure that would do it. ‘Amy, if you want to see Mister Archie you must tell me where you are…’ Then I lost control. ‘NATHAN! YOU BRING HER BACK RIGHT NOW!’ Both horses stamped and whinnied, and the door to the stationmaster’s office flew open.

  ‘What the ’ell’s goin’ on out ’ere?’

  I swung around in relief. ‘Have you seen a little girl with very light blonde hair? She would be travelling with a dark-haired man. Just one bag between them.’

  ‘That their pony cart?’ The stationmaster jerked his head, and I nodded.

  ‘Tell ’em to get it off this land. It’s trespassin’.’

  ‘I told you, I can’t find them!’

  ‘Well I ain’t seen ’em. And that other ’orse belongs down ’t the sawmill, not tied up on my rails. Does Seth know you’ve got ’im?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Oh, uh?’ He peered at the writing on the side of the trap. ‘You from Dark River Farm then?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘No children down there,’ he said, with the firm authority of one who knows he’s right. ‘Trespass is a serious business,’ he added as he turned to go back into his office. ‘Fine you six shillings, I could.’

  And then he was gone. For the second time that night, tears and laughter battled it out, and I leaned my head against Pippin’s patient neck, and let the soft, disbelieving laughter have its way. It relieved some of the tightness in me, and let me think clearly again. I straightened, realising it was pointless trying to make Amy respond if her years of enforced silence had come to the fore again. My ever-helpful memory showed me a small girl crouched in a farmyard, her thin little arms covering her head, and not a sound passing her lips despite her obvious terror.

  I crossed to the sheds, and was about to pull open the door before I remembered how panicked Nathan been, and how Archie had borne the brunt of that panic. Nathan still had most of the hand tools, and if I was hurt now there would be no-one to help Amy at all. Besides, the memory of the deep puncture and long slicing wound in Archie’s chest, and the thought of it happening to me, made me feel faint with terror. My hands grew sweaty with it.

  I wiped them on my trousers, wincing at the sting, then took a deep breath and knocked on the side of the shed. My voice was low, reasonable. ‘Nathan, if you’re in there, just let Amy go, please? I…I have money. I can get it for you.’ When no reply came I banged again, this time much harder, and my voice rose in volume to first match the noise, and then beat it.

  ‘NATHAN!’

  The stationmaster’s door crashed open again, and he marched down the platform to the gate, his eyes on me all the while. ‘I’ve ’ad just about enough, miss! Do you want me to call the constable?’

  It was the last thing I wanted. Archie was right; it would only serve to panic Nathan. ‘Please, can you help me?’ I said, in as calm a voice as I could. ‘I’m telling the truth; I’ve lost the little girl I was caring for. I think she might have been taken in here.’ I gestured at the shed. ‘Could you shine a light for me?’

  He eyed me narrowly for a moment, then went back to his office, returning with a rather small flashlight. It wouldn’t light the whole shed at once, but it would soon show me if Nathan and Amy were hiding in there…and all I could hope was that it didn’t also show me the same picture my imagination had taunted me with. The light briefly played across me as he turned it towards the shed, then it swung back. I looked down; my shirt was covered in what could only be blood. There was no point in pretending otherwise.

  ‘Difficult calving,’ I stammered, seeing the stationmaster’s mouth draw down sharply, and his brow furrow. ‘That’s why Amy was able to run off. I wasn’t paying attention.’ I could see my hesitation was giving him cause to doubt me, and tried to use it. ‘It…it was my fault,’ I said in a small voice. ‘She wanted to go out in the cart, and I think she climbed in when this man wasn’t looking. He’s probably scared to bring her back. He…took some of our tools when he went.’

  The stationmaster bit the inside of his lip for a moment, then nodded. ‘Well no wonder he’d be hidin’ then. Lots of that goin’ on lately, there is.’ Decision made, he pulled open the door and shone his torch inside, sweeping it from side to side. ‘No-one in there, miss,’ he said, less brusquely now. ‘Do you want me to call the constable?’

  I shook my head, finding yet another lie. ‘I think Mrs Adams has done that already. Is there anywhere else they might be…sheltering? Waiting for tomorrow’s first train, perhaps?’

  ‘All the other sheds is locked. But I’ll keep a good watch out; don’t you fret.’

  I found a smile and tried not to sound too worried. ‘Thank you, sir.’

  At the cart Pippin turned to nuzzle my shoulder, and bit gently at my coat, and I absent-mindedly rubbed his nose, trying to think of a place that would afford shelter for Nathan that wasn’t too far from the station. Jealous of the attention, Pirate snorted and tossed his head, and that’s when the answer hit me: the sawmill. Sheds and stables, and hay and sawdust that would make for a comfortable night. He must have left the trap here to make anyone who might come after him think he’d already left…which he might well have done by the time we caught him up, if it hadn’t been for Jessie coming back. I felt my breath shorten, and my fingers shook as I began to gather up the long rein ready to climb into the trap. Then I stopped. I couldn’t let him know I was coming. I had to find him first if I didn’t want him to slip away and find another hiding place.

  Regretfully I dropped the rein and turned to the stationmaster. ‘Please can I leave this here a little while? It’ll be gone by morning, when the passengers start arriving.’

  He huffed a moment, then shook his head and threw a hand up in defeat. ‘Just see it is.’

  ‘Thank you.’ I refastened the rein to the rail and turned to go, and he put that same hand on my arm. When I looked back his face was solemn.

  ‘
I ’ope you find the little maid,’ he said. ‘B’aint right for a little one to be out at night. Not with that lot—’ he nodded towards the prison ‘—allowed out and about, free as you like.’

  ‘I think I know where she might be,’ I said, and was trying to think of a believable reason why I’d prefer to walk, when I remembered Pirate. If we approached from the back field, where Woody had taken me, no-one would hear us. ‘I’ll take Mr Pearce’s horse.’

  ‘Ah, well, as you like.’ He turned back towards the warmth of his office, but I called to him, a little embarrassed. ‘Would you possibly be able to give me a leg up? He’s not saddled, you see.’

  ‘Go on then.’ And he chuckled, surprising me. If nothing else I had provided some light relief during his night’s work.

  Once up on Pirate’s back again, I turned him towards the moorland path that led parallel to the road. I would have to trust his sure-footedness, but he moved carefully and steadily towards the sawmill, and in less than half the time it would have taken me on foot, we arrived at the top of the back field. I slid down and hugged him, thanking him silently for bringing me safely here, then unlatched the gate and led him through. I let him graze, while I climbed the wall and dropped down into the field where Belinda had taken her tumble. My foot twisted as I landed, but I was able to clamp down on the exclamation and turn it into a sort of hissing gasp instead.

  After a few steps the ache faded, and I blew out a sigh of relief, feeling it lifting my fringe away from my sweating face. I crossed the field more carefully from then on, reluctant to risk even the slightest injury that might slow me down, peering through the darkness at the sheds in the yard, rising black and imposing against the night, and utterly silent. Which one might he have chosen?

  My intention was to go to the house, and look in all the windows to find whichever room Seth was in, so I could attract his attention without making any noise and alerting Nathan before I was ready. It only took a moment for that idea to be driven flat; the house was in darkness. There was no sound other than the wind rustling the trees overhead, and my own hammering heart, as I passed through the yard. The two workers had long since gone home for the night, and Seth must have gone out. I fought back a groan of frustration, accompanied by a little thrill of renewed fear; I would have to do this alone after all.