by Jody Hedlund
She didn’t wait to see if the sleeping potion would really work. Instead, she made the most of the distraction to sprint to the building and duck into the shadows. She pressed her back against the siding and dragged in a shaky breath.
Her foot slipped in a puddle of slime. The overpowering bitterness of vomit assaulted her, along with the vinegary stench of whiskey.
She clamped her mittened hand across her mouth and nose and tried not to gag. She’d heard plenty of retching earlier in the night. If rumors were true, the tavern owners often developed their own nasty brew called forty-rod whiskey, named as such because after drinking a shot, the shanty boys claimed they couldn’t walk forty rods without falling down. The concoction also made many of them violently ill.
Crouching low, Lily sidled along the building. If Stuart’s assistant had given them the correct dimensions for the Stockade, then Daisy’s room would be on the front side of the building, the third window from the west.
When Lily reached the corner, she paused and glanced around. Her heartbeat skittered like a frightened hare. Dark misshapened shadows loomed long and thin.
More demons. A shiver crawled over her skin like maggots on dead flesh.
A low screech came from the opposite side of the compound near the livery. Even though the sound resembled the night call of a barn owl, Lily couldn’t keep from wondering if maybe the winged devils were communicating with each other.
Maybe they were plotting how to foil her rescue attempt.
“Oh, God,” she whispered. But her prayer stuck in her throat.
Why had she ever thought she could visit the pit of hell on her own?
Why hadn’t she just waited?
She closed her eyes against the haunted shapes.
How easy the plan had seemed back in the safety of her room at the Northern. How easy to think God was waiting for her help in orchestrating the plan.
She’d imagined walking in, grabbing Daisy, and leaving town. She’d planned to take the girl to Molly May’s in Midland and then head back to Merryville and rescue Frankie. She couldn’t leave without getting Frankie. With every day that passed, guilt plagued her over the fact that she hadn’t done anything more to try to rescue her.
Once she had both girls, she wanted to get as far away from Harrison and Carr as she possibly could. If she could save up enough money, maybe she’d even take them back to New York. At least there they’d be safe from Carr.
And maybe she’d eventually be able to start a shelter of her own, like Molly May’s, where she could continue to rescue girls and give them a start at a better life.
But she hadn’t counted on the demons of hell conspiring against her.
“Oh, God,” she tried again. Was God close enough to hear her? “If I ever needed someone to be with me, I need someone now.”
Even as the words left her lips, a slow burning of renewed strength trickled through her blood. She straightened and glanced around again. “If you’ll use your angels to fight off the hordes of demons that live here, then I can take care of the rest.”
She listened for a long moment, not sure what kind of answer she’d expected, certainly not anything audible. When a quiet sense of peace settled within her chest, she smiled. Somehow she had the feeling God had heard her and the peace was His answer. She had the distinct impression He was very close, even though she couldn’t see Him.
“I can do this,” she whispered, creeping around the corner to the front. The windows were dark, but she found the third one from the west. Daisy’s.
Her heart pattered with new hope. She’d come this far. She wouldn’t fail now.
She reached into the trouser pocket for one of the small stones she’d tucked there. Then with careful aim, she tossed it at Daisy’s window. At the ricocheting ping, she crouched low and scanned the other windows, hoping no one else had heard the noise.
After what seemed like forever but was really only a few minutes, she stood and reached for another stone.
What if Stuart’s assistant had misinformed them? What if the third window wasn’t Daisy’s room after all?
She lifted her arm to throw one more stone, but then stopped. There was a flash of movement in the window. She caught her breath. And when the window inched up a crack, then another, and another, her heart slammed against her ribs.
Through the darkness she could make out the fluttering white of a nightshift and the paleness of bare arms.
“Daisy?” she whispered.
“It is you.” The return whisper brought tears to Lily’s eyes. The beautiful face that peered down at her was framed by the usual tangle of dark curls and belonged to none other than Daisy.
Relief fell upon Lily with such force that she nearly crumpled to her knees and sobbed.
“I wasn’t sure,” the voice whispered again. “You didn’t mention when you’d come.”
“I didn’t know.” Lily glanced around, praying no one could hear them. “But I’m here, and we need to hurry.”
With shaking fingers she found the rope in her bag and threw it up to Daisy. She instructed the girl on how to loop it through the headboard.
Then she shook one frozen foot and then the other as she waited for Daisy to secure the rope. Her gaze darted to the other windows, to the yard, and back to Daisy’s room.
A sudden flapping over the roof sent Lily’s heart into a crazy spin, and she crouched onto the ground, hoping to make herself invisible.
Had someone heard them?
Every muscle in her body tensed.
When Daisy finally tossed the rope back out the window and began the awkward descent, Lily silently motioned her to move faster.
In a thin nightshift, Daisy shuddered with the cold, hardly able to grip the rope. Her garment crept higher, revealing the glowing nakedness of her flesh beneath.
“Jump,” Lily whispered once the girl was close enough. “I’ll catch you.”
Daisy let go and slid down the rest of the distance, her bare feet landing in the snow. Lily’s arms enveloped the girl, bracing her fall and capturing her in a fierce hug, an embrace full of all the sorrow and pain of the long months of searching.
It was finally over.
Her throat closed with an overwhelming need to cry. “Oh, Daisy,” she managed, breathing deeply of the girl’s hair, rubbing her nose into the loose curls, remembering all the times she’d done the same thing when Daisy had been a little girl.
Daisy’s arms wrapped around her in a fierce hold, and she buried her face against Lily’s coat. “I didn’t think you’d ever come.”
At the agony in Daisy’s voice, Lily just hugged her tighter and pressed a kiss against the soft strands of her hair. Tears spilled over and made a frozen trail down her cheeks. “I missed you so much.”
“I missed you too.” The cold wetness of Daisy’s tears mingled with Lily’s.
She wanted to stop time and hold Daisy forever. Now that she had her, she didn’t want to release her. She squeezed her sister harder, and Daisy clung to her as if she would never let go again either.
But the spit of fresh sleet against her face and the shudder of Daisy’s thin body urged her into action. She pulled Daisy to arm’s length and in one quick glance took in the girl’s condition. Through the dim glow of light coming from the back of the tavern, Lily could see that her sister was as healthy as always and had apparently been well taken care of.
Only the bright fear glowing in her wide eyes testified to the nightmare she had lived through the past months. And the fact that she was standing before Lily practically naked, wearing a nightgown that dipped revealingly low and hardly reached mid-thigh.
“Quick, put this on.” Lily shrugged out of her coat and draped it across Daisy’s shoulders. Then she wrestled through her bag to find the extra boots she’d packed.
In a matter of seconds, Daisy was dressed sufficiently—at least enough to protect her from the winter temperatures for a short time.
Lily reached for her again, needing to h
ug her, needing to know her sister really was standing in front of her and that she wasn’t just dreaming. But a light flickered in one of the upstairs windows, and the curtain swayed.
Had someone noticed Daisy’s disappearance already?
“Come on.” Lily grabbed the girl’s hand and tugged her forward. They couldn’t waste any time. Every second counted.
Daisy gripped her and squeezed hard, but resisted the pull.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’ve missed you, Lily,” she said in a broken whisper.
The ache in Lily’s throat threatened to choke her with the pressure. She wanted to hold Daisy and tell her everything would be all right. She wanted to wipe away all the worries, all the horrible memories, and whisper that from now on they’d be together, that never again would she let anything or anyone split them apart.
But that would have to wait for the days to come, when they’d have plenty of time to talk. For now, she had to get Daisy out of the Stockade before anyone noticed them.
“I’ve missed you too.” She brushed her sister’s cheek, ready to cry all over again at the relief of finally seeing Daisy, of touching her, of knowing she was safe.
A long screech rent the air.
Lily’s heart crashed against her ribs. “We’d best be going. We need to get out of here.” They weren’t safe yet. Not until they made it to the other side of the wall and down Dead Man’s Hill.
She dragged Daisy along, leading her back around the building the same way she’d come. They crept low. And when they reached the back of the compound, Lily stopped and searched the dog pen.
The beasts were nowhere in sight. Had the sleeping potion worked?
She swallowed her fear. The only way to find out was to cross the yard to the gate. If the dogs were awake, they’d know soon enough.
“Run,” she whispered to Daisy.
They bolted through the refuse. The sleet pattered louder, thankfully drowning the slap of their footsteps. Lily slowed down only long enough to grab a broken bar stool. Even with a missing leg, it would still be enough to boost them over the gate.
With pounding heart, she reached the gate, the only part of the palisade without the sharp points, and the only place low enough for them to attempt to cross over. Daisy fell against the wood slats next to her, her chest heaving. Lily flattened herself and pushed a hand against Daisy, warning her not to move.
For a long moment, they stood as silent as the empty broken bottles that were half covered with dirty snow.
The dogs didn’t stir. And the tavern sat too quietly, the first-floor barroom windows still alight from the glow of a lantern or two within.
Had they really made it this far undetected?
Lily shoved the stool against the gate. “Climb up and I’ll help you over.”
Daisy hesitated.
“You’re gonna be fine,” she whispered. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“If Carr catches me, he’ll kill me.” Her frightened gaze darted around the yard, as if she expected him to jump out of the shadows.
“He’ll have to kill me first.” Lily patted the stool. “Now hop on up.”
Daisy clambered up, fumbling to stand and reach for the gate.
“It’s gonna be all right.” Lily hoisted Daisy and at the same time used her body to steady the three-legged stool. She tried not to think about how she was going to manage getting over the gate by herself once Daisy was on the other side.
Shards of sleet pelted Lily, and a gust of wind pierced through her layer of shirts, sending shivers up and down her limbs. A sudden scurry of fur near her feet made her jump. She caught sight of the long skinny tail of a rat before it disappeared into a nearby pile of garbage.
“Hurry,” she called hoarsely, stifling a shudder.
For what seemed an eternity, Daisy struggled over the top of the gate, first scraping her bare legs, getting her coat hooked on the edge, and then afraid to let go and fall the distance on the other side.
When Daisy finally made it over, Lily tried to climb onto the broken stool, but she couldn’t keep it from tipping over. With mounting frustration, she returned to the yard and walked among the debris until she found a broken crate.
She jammed the crate under the stool in place of the missing leg. Even though it tilted at an awkward angle, it didn’t budge. She managed to pull herself up, grab on to the top of the gate, and hook first one leg over and then the other.
Daisy stared up at her, shaking like a wild flower in a spring breeze. She didn’t move to help her—not that Lily expected her to—not in her condition.
Just as she began to lower herself down the other side, a faint shout came from the tavern and another light popped to life in one of the upstairs windows.
Lily’s stomach clenched into a tight ball. Someone had discovered that Daisy was gone.
Her pulse burst forward. She jumped, snagging Oren’s trousers on one of the slats of the gate. She wrenched the fabric. It gave way with a sharp rip, and she fell to the ground with a thud that jolted her gut and knocked the breath from her.
“Let’s go,” she gasped, struggling to push herself up. They were going to have to run for their lives.
Would they have time to reach the livery behind the Northern?
When she’d done her planning the day before, she’d decided the best way to get Daisy out of Harrison was to use Oren’s cutter. She wouldn’t steal it—just borrow it temporarily, like she’d done with his clothes. And even though he’d be stranded for a few days until she could return the cutter, she had the feeling he’d understand. At least she hoped he would.
Another shout broke the silence of the Stockade, this one louder.
Daisy’s eyes widened. Her trembling fingers grasped Lily’s, and she glanced frantically toward the rocky hill that spread out before them.
In the darkness the uneven shapes of the stones crouched like ghouls waiting to pounce on them.
Lily choked down her fear. They had no choice but to descend the hill, a barren, open stretch of land that separated them from the town and from anyplace they could take cover and hide.
With the echoes of more shouts on the other side of the palisade, Lily charged down the hill, pulling Daisy along behind her, dodging stones and shards of smashed bottles. When they reached the bottom, she didn’t pause to look back at the Stockade. Instead, she stumbled onward toward the edge of town. Behind her Daisy’s breath came in heaving gasps and her steps grew sluggish, slowing them down.
“I have to stop.” Daisy choked out the words and bent over, holding her side.
Lily chanced a glance toward the Stockade. A man stepped through the gate and held up a lantern. The light cast gyrating flickers over the dark hill.
He was looking for Daisy. No doubt about it.
Lily’s heart dipped with dread. “We can’t rest now.”
Daisy followed the direction of her gaze and gave a soft gasp. “Are they looking for me already?”
The man with the lantern had started down the long hill, holding the light high. The shouts of several more men behind him echoed in the stillness of the night.
“What are we going to do?” Daisy’s voice trembled with panic. “I don’t want to face Carr’s brass knuckles. I’ve seen what he can do with them, and I wouldn’t be able to bear it.”
Lily’s mind raced. How could she cross to the other side of Main Street to the Northern Hotel without being detected? And how would she be able to get Daisy out of Harrison tonight if she didn’t get Oren’s sleigh?
They had to make it out while it was still dark. At first light, if not sooner, Carr would have his men out searching every road leading to and from Harrison.
Lily clutched her sister’s hand. She dragged the girl past overturned stumps left from the destruction of the forest in years past. Their roots swirled into the air like a thousand frozen snakes.
“Please, Lily,” Daisy whispered, tears sliding down her cheeks. “Please don’t let him g
et me.”
The voices of the men grew louder and closer. The light from the lantern would soon reveal them. And how could they possibly run away from Carr’s men—when Daisy was already tired?
Lily frantically scanned the nearby stumps and then she scrutinized the smattering of houses that edged the town.
“Don’t worry. I’ll figure out something.”
Even as the words left her mouth, she prayed that she hadn’t told her sister a lie, and that she hadn’t helped her sister to escape only to put her in the worst danger yet.
Chapter
18
A thud at the front door woke Connell out of a deep sleep.
He sat up, the heavy layer of blankets falling away. The frozen air of the unheated bedroom rolled over him and seeped through his union suit like a winter storm.
A glance out the frosted window revealed the darkness of night. And yet his internal alarm told him sunrise was not far off—maybe two hours until the first hint of light.
Who would possibly have need of Stuart at five o’clock in the morning?
The door rattled.
Suddenly fully awake, Connell’s fingers went to his knife, every nerve in his body alert. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed. The rusty frame creaked under his weight.
Was someone trying to break in?
His heart slammed against his ribs. He stood and made his way across the bedroom and down the narrow stairway. His bare feet turned to ice against the frozen floorboards. Even though he tiptoed, each step squeaked.
At the bottom, when he reached the door, he stopped and held his breath.
He could hear nothing but the distant howl of a wolf. Had the intruder heard him and gone away?
“Stuart” came a muted voice on the other side of the door.
“Lily?” Was it Lily? What was she doing out at this time of the morning?
In a flash, he sheathed his knife and swung open the door.
There stood Lily, without a coat, shuddering and hugging her arms across her chest. Next to her a young woman huddled into Lily’s coat almost as if she wished she could disappear.
At a shout from Dead Man’s Hill, both girls glanced over their shoulders, their eyes wide with fear.