They had to find him. Even if they gave him to the preacher all wasn’t lost. Wouldn’t she find an opportunity to steal him back? Unless Finn’s parents intended to guard his nursery window, she’d have no trouble reversing the day’s events. Their custody would be a temporary inconvenience.
“Go.” Anne gripped his wrists. “I’ll light a fire in front of the cave so your way back will be easier.”
The fear didn’t vanish from his face, but he kissed her on the forehead and scrambled out the low opening into the night.
Branches snapped as he barreled forward, and then the sound faded. The silence terrified her. Was she alone? Was Sammy already beyond their grasp? She rolled onto her stomach, sliding buckskin against the rock floor until she could once again feel the damp air from deeper in the cave’s belly.
“Sammy! Can you hear me?”
Her heartbeat was the only answer. “Sammy, Momma’s right out here. If you can hear me, please come this way.”
Not a sound.
Anne dropped her head to the rock. Maybe someone from town could help. Maybe they’d rescue him and then . . . and then they’d give him to the reverend and his missus. She scratched at the rock barring the way ahead of her, willing it to turn into chalk and flake away, but her efforts were futile. Unless he happened back to their opening, she couldn’t reach him. They needed a miracle.
A sinking realization settled on her. She was planning a kidnapping, designing lies for the Hollands while Sammy was still in danger. Wasn’t this the time to bargain with God? Shouldn’t she make some desperate plea with Him before she decided to steal a reverend’s grandson?
“God, there’s no reason this boy needs to die,” Anne hollered into the crevice. “If you’re doing this to teach me a lesson, then bring him back. I’ll do what you want.”
Had she expected an answer? Anne realized she was listening for one, but why? Why did she feel that God was right on the other side of the wall, waiting for her to figure something out?
“Isn’t that what you’re waiting for? For me to give him up? Fine, then. Just please keep him safe. Lead him back to me.”
The second her voice dropped, the silence engulfed her. What if Sammy was trying to find his way out? What if he could barely hear her? She tried to keep the panic from her voice. She didn’t want to scare him, but every second he could be wandering farther and farther from safety.
“Are you hungry, Sammy? Do you want a biscuit? Momma will get you something to eat. Or I could hold you. It’s got to be cold in there.” Her fingers dug into the damp floor. “I know you’re getting cold, baby. Please come here.” She dropped her head; her anger boiled at the thought of the child whimpering in the vast darkness.
“What’s Sammy ever done to you?” she cried. “Why would you let him get lost? It’s not his fault. Whatever bad I’ve done, it isn’t right for you to punish him. I thought you were supposed to be just.”
No longer did she wonder if God was there. He was. But He was withholding something from her. There was something just out of reach, but she couldn’t grasp it without His consent. And she knew attaining what He offered meant the world.
“What do you want me to do? Grovel? If you are who they claim you are, you know that I’d say anything to get Sammy out of that cave. You know that, so why go through the motions?”
A noise sounded behind her. Anne shoved away from the hole and spun around, but it was only a log on the fire that fell through the burnt timbers beneath it.
She’d promised Nick a fire to guide him. Leaning into the gap once again, Anne called for Sammy and then rose to build the bonfire outside.
Grasping the unburned ends of the logs, she rolled them through the porthole before exiting herself. The presence followed her even outside the cave, but she had nothing else to offer. The greatest sacrifice she could make would be to hand Sammy over, and she’d already promised . . .
But she hadn’t meant it.
An empty promise wouldn’t suffice. He’d know after all. But could she give Sammy up? Was that the test?
She stacked the logs and ransacked the fallen leaves looking for more hidden beneath. Sammy had been wandering in the dark for over half an hour. He might be gone to her already. She heaved the fallen branches onto the pile. If it was truly between his dying alone in a cave or living with the Hollands, then of course she’d rather he be safe in their home.
Safe? The word hurt. She’d spent three days claiming he was in jeopardy with them. She’d thought she could protect him from everything, from everyone, but just that quickly he was out of her reach. Safety had eluded them after all.
She surveyed the slope of the mountain before her, but she could see nothing through the darkness. Why didn’t Nick hurry? Without her duster she felt the wind cutting through her clothes, bringing sharp pinches on her skin.
Anne scurried into the cave and half ran, half fell to the hole in the shadows. Pushing herself into the gap, she called his name, but again no greeting was returned.
She had no pickax, but maybe she could smash the way open. She searched the cavern floor until she found a loose rock. The first blow crushed her fingernail. She adjusted her grip and hammered again. And again.
With Jay she hadn’t bent. She hadn’t bowed. She’d endured living with him, but she’d kept a part of herself back. He would not master her.
And while Nick deserved her appreciation and loyalty, she’d never consented to follow him. She might compromise with him over her clothing or aid him when he needed an employee, but she’d never put herself under his authority. She would be her own boss.
And now, here she was again. The law said that Sammy belonged to his family. Anne disagreed. She wouldn’t acknowledge any power above her own. But she had no answer that would bring Sammy back to her. Maintaining her independence wouldn’t help him. And if she made a pact with God, He wouldn’t accept any portion less than total lordship. Complete surrender to His will. No arguing over what He wanted from her. No negotiating. If she agreed to follow Him, she was giving up her rights. She was giving up control of her life.
Flakes dropped from each strike, but most were from the stone in her hand, not the solid wall she pounded repeatedly. Her options were vanishing. She couldn’t even know that Nick would find his way to town. What if he met with trouble? What else could she do for Sammy?
Only one option she hadn’t tried—one that she should’ve offered long ago.
Anne felt like she was tearing away from something—ripping her soul out of a clawed paw. This would be no death-bed conversion. No empty bargain. If she promised God her life, she wouldn’t go back, even though she knew now what sacrifice He required of her.
Finally the tears began to fall. What if God let her down? But she’d already crossed that river. He was her God and this was a commitment she’d longed to make for years. She would follow Him. She prayed He would save Sammy, but Sammy’s future was His to decide. God alone had the right to determine what would happen to the boy. And she promised not to interfere with His plans.
“Sammy?” she whispered. Her tears dripped off her jaw onto the rock floor. “Sammy!” But her voice echoed back unanswered.
She wouldn’t give up. With renewed purpose she grabbed the end of a glowing stick and thrust it through the opening. The darkness devoured the light in every crevice, revealing little of its secrets. She waited, listening for any noise that would assure her that the child was near.
The fire popped behind her. A green pine limb burst, its resin sizzling in the heat. Leaves rustled just outside the mouth of the cave. Was it Nick? The odd sniffing noise didn’t sound human. She barely had time to stand before a dog scrambled through the cave opening. The hound’s ears swung as he spotted her. He sat on his haunches, unsure of his mission.
Nick and the dog’s owner must be close by. The bonfire needed to be lit.
The dog got to his feet as Anne did, but instead of exiting he skimmed his nose over the ground and circled the cave, i
nspecting the area where Nick had wrestled with Sammy. He must have followed Nick’s scent to the cave, but now he’d reached the end of his trail. A sudden burst of inspiration had Anne grasping Sammy’s blanket and thrusting it beneath the dog’s nose.
“That’s right. Fill your head with this.” The dog’s tail thumped, then he trotted off to sniff the room once more.
“Good boy. Go hunt.” But the hound didn’t need her encouragement. She clutched the blanket to her stomach as he plowed into the crevice. Would he find Sammy? Could he get him out? Anne held her breath until the dog’s bawls broke the silence. His bass voice echoed in the cavern.
“You found him?” Her torch wavered, but nothing was visible. The dog continued barking, and then . . . then a baby’s whimper.
“Sammy? Sammy! Come here.”
The whimper turned into a full-blown cry. The dog barked again, and Sammy screeched.
“Sammy, this way.” Once again Anne held the torch through the opening. “Come here. Come toward the light, sweetie.” She gulped the damp air coming from the depths before her. Suddenly the torchlight reflected off two sleepy eyes. Streaked with dirt, Sammy crawled forward and then sat down just out of reach.
The dog danced between them. Sammy pushed away from the dog and turned to go deeper into the cave. Anne gasped. “Please, God,” she cried, now more certain than ever that His presence was with them.
The hound barked again, trying to alert his master of his accomplishment. Sammy threw his head back and yawned, looking about him as if to find another comfortable place to lie down.
“Come here, Sammy.” Her pleas bubbled with joy at the sight of him unharmed. “Are you hungry? Do you want a drink? Come this way.”
With a last rueful look at the dog, Sammy lunged to his knees and crawled through the tunnel until she could brush him with her fingertips and drag him into her arms.
Anne pressed him against her, covering him in kisses. She ran her hands over his arms and legs, inspecting him for injuries, though the tot only wanted to find a quiet place to finish his nap undisturbed.
“Don’t worry. We’ll rest soon enough, and I won’t make that mistake again. No, the next time . . .”
Her heart wrenched. She cradled Sammy to her chest. How long did she have? Only minutes before the men found them. Maybe she should run—not permanently, just far enough to give herself some room and time so she could decide what to do. She needed to make sure this was the best decision.
Anne pulled on her duster and snatched up her knapsack, Sammy, and a torch. She stooped out of the cave. She could leave. She could. Without Nicholas she could travel faster and leave less of a trail. No matter what he said, she’d write him. She couldn’t bear the thought of his disapproval. Given time he’d forgive her, and they could be friends, at least, no matter the distance. He couldn’t expect her to do something as heartbreaking as to give up her son.
Anne’s knapsack dropped to the ground. Nick was different. He might understand, but he wouldn’t approve. He wanted her to do better.
But could she?
The dog behind her barked. Men’s voices could be heard in the valley below, drifting up in the chill night air. She couldn’t stay, not on her own, but she wasn’t on her own any longer. She’d made a promise to God. He’d delivered Sammy to her arms. She must take him the rest of the way.
Before her resolve vanished Anne sprang to the stack of logs and stabbed the brand into the dry wood. Down the hill she saw torches. Voices, the neighing of a horse, and Nick’s urgent coaxing reached her.
“It’s further on. Hurry. I misled you.”
“Up here.” Holding Sammy in one arm, she threw dried leaves on the flames with the other. “We’re up here. Just a bit further.”
Four horses threaded between the trees as the fire roared. The men stopped at the bonfire, staring at her and the child. Nick slid down and wrapped them both in his arms.
“Thank God. I didn’t know if we’d ever see him again.”
“I didn’t run,” she said.
His inhaled and his eyes held hers. “No, you didn’t, did you.”
The leather of a saddle creaked as the men dismounted. The dog pranced about them, eager for his master’s approval.
“Good boy!” a bearded man exclaimed.
Joel stood beside the fourth man. Anne stumbled to the deputy and laid a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, Joel. I’m so sorry. Whatever you need to do with me, I understand.”
He patted her on the back and nodded. “Let’s get him out of the cold. That’s enough for now.”
“Thank you, Lord.” It was all Nick could manage to say, so he repeated it over and over. The guilt he’d felt when Sammy disappeared had crushed him. The baby had been right there climbing on him. He should’ve realized that he was gone, but he’d been so absorbed in Anne’s story that he’d forgotten about the child. He ran his hand through his hair. Sammy was safe, but was it only temporary? The horrible story of Anne’s breakdown was still fresh. The image of Anne rocking her dead child would haunt him.
How would she survive what was to come?
But she hadn’t run. That was as big a miracle as finding the boy. When the time came, would she be able to leave him, or would she steal away again? He prayed that she’d be strong.
Joel eyed her nervously. Obviously Nick wasn’t the only one who remembered she carried a pistol. The dog handler was taking to his saddle again, shouting encouragement to the hound for his good work. The older man only watched, seemingly content to stay out of the way. Content to hide his identity from Anne for a bit longer.
“Look at him.” Anne lifted Sammy so the firelight illuminated him. “He was probably asleep that whole time. He found a little niche and dozed off right around the corner.”
Nick cupped his hand over Sammy’s white hair. Sammy raised an eyebrow and stuck his thumb in his mouth. “It’s a miracle he didn’t go further.”
Anne gazed at the boy proudly. “So energetic. He could’ve kept going half the night, but he just lay down and slept.” She hummed a sweet tune, rocking him in her arms.
“It’s time we head to town.” Joel stood with arms crossed.
Nick’s eyes lowered. Anne froze, her song ceased.
“I don’t suppose there’s any reason for me to sleep here,” Anne said. “I’ll come with you.”
“That’ll depend,” Joel said. “If Sammy’s grandparents want you arrested, I’ll have to comply. Otherwise you’re free to go. What will it be, Reverend?”
Nick opened his mouth to protest, but the badge shone in the firelight and reminded him that Joel was doing his job. Anne had kidnapped a baby and eluded capture. Joel owed her no favors.
Before he could speak, Anne turned toward the older gentleman. “Reverend Holland?”
Removing his gloves, Reverend Holland stepped forward. “Right here, my dear. We’ve been eager to meet the lady who has taken such wonderful care of our lad.”
Anne sputtered. “But I failed miserably. He could’ve been lost—”
“He’s fine now, and my wife and I would be honored if you’d be our guest tonight at the parsonage. You could help us get acquainted with our grandson.”
“Reverend Holland,” Joel said, stepping forward, “as kind as your offer is, it might not be prudent. We’ll find a place for her tonight.”
“At the jail?” Mr. Holland shook his head. “How could I lock up the woman who kept my grandson safe after his own parents abandoned him? How could I earn Samuel’s affections when the person he loves most is barred from visiting him? I’m in the business of grace, Deputy Puckett, and while I understand the trouble Mrs. Tillerton has made for you, I think it was a journey she had to travel to get to this point.”
Tears welled in Anne’s eyes. Either the reverend was dangerously optimistic, or God had been working.
She approached the reverend. Slurping on his thumb, Sammy was too sleepy to notice her brave smile as she passed him into the reverend’s arms.
/> The man’s breath caught. He cradled his grandson and stroked his head with gentle hands.
“He has Finn’s white hair, doesn’t he? Those eyes, they must be his mother’s, but the hair is unmistakable. You never know when God’s going to replace what you thought was gone forever. What a gift—a precious gift from God.”
He blinked at Anne. “And so are you. I can’t wait for you to meet Mrs. Holland. What do you say we all head back to town?” He motioned for Anne to precede him. She found her knapsack while they extinguished the fire. Joel held Sammy while Reverend Holland mounted, volunteering before Anne had an opportunity. She stood apart, her face unreadable. Nick untied the reins of the horse they’d loaned him and went to her.
“Are you going to take him up on his offer?”
The moonlight splayed across her cheeks and lips. “I’d much rather sleep at the parsonage than the accommodations Joel has arranged.”
“You can’t blame him, you know.”
Her chin lowered. “I know. He let me come with you, and I broke his trust. I brought this on myself.”
But was she going to break their trust again? Nick wanted to ask but was afraid to. If she was weighing her options, if she was trying to find the courage to let him go, Nick didn’t want to push her.
“Do you want to ride with me?”
She wiped away a stray tear that had only now found its way down her cheek. “You know how to ride? I never dreamed . . .”
Nick rolled his eyes but was pleased. Her teasing was a good sign. He strapped her bag onto the horse, mounted, and then offered her a hand so she could climb on behind him.
Anne wrapped her arms around his waist. Her hands rode flat against his stomach as they descended, the last in the line of horses and men heading to Atoka. When Nick succeeded in tearing his gaze from the sight of her hands holding him, he couldn’t help but appreciate the vastness of the untouched forest. A fortune of lumber covered the hills. This land belonged to the Choctaw tribe, but who was harvesting it? With the railroad running right through Atoka, transporting the timber to the eastern market would be simple.
Caught in the Middle (Ladies of Caldwell County Book #3) Page 25