by Peterson, Tracie; Davis, Mary; Hake, Kelly Eileen; Stengl, Jill; Warren, Susan May
Tyler agreed that they should not spoil the festivities, but his heart wasn’t in his words. He knew only God could mend the hurt that bound him inside.
Excusing himself, he pushed past the men and got on his horse. “I’ll see you all tomorrow morning.” He rode out past the hotel, casting a suspicious glance upward at the second story windows.
He manuevered his horse into the shadows of nearby trees and dismounted. From where he stood, he could watch the boardinghouse, and he realized that he might learn more by waiting for Nathan to move than by questioning him further.
Grateful that the snow had let up, Tyler decided to board his horse at the livery and stake out the boardinghouse from the livery loft. From there, he would have a view of everything around, and he’d be able to spot Randy and Charles when they made their way to join him.
If the livery owner thought the new pastor was strange for wanting to sleep in the loft, he made no mention of it as he accepted Tyler’s money.
Tyler saw to his horse’s care and feed, then threw his saddle bags over his shoulder and made his way up the rough ladder to the loft. Tossing the bags aside, Tyler eased the heavy wooden shutter open just enough to peer down the road. All seemed quiet. Only the soft glow from the windows of the surrounding homes broke the fall of darkness.
Tyler studied the boardinghouse a moment longer, noting the side stairs that led to the second floor. Gallagher would have to come out one of three ways, Tyler surmised. Either by the front or back door or these side stairs. Whichever he chose, Tyler was ready.
Tyler was prepared for a lengthy stay, but within a half an hour, he was rewarded by the appearance of Nathan Gallagher on the side stairs. He watched as Nathan moved away from the hotel and came toward the livery. Tyler wondered if Nathan had chosen to depart Deer Ridge now. Easing away from the window, Tyler heard the livery door open below. He held his breath.
After a moment, crawling at a snail’s pace on his hands and knees, he eased his six foot six frame to the edge of the loft. Looking over, Tyler flattened himself in the straw and watched the dark-hatted head below. Nathan seemed to be waiting for someone to appear. He checked his watch several times and paced the floor below, making the horses stir.
Tyler could hardly force himself to remain still. He kept thinking of Amy and wondered if Nathan had hurt her. Every time her brown eyes and smiling mouth came to mind, Tyler had to bite back a growl. He wanted to throttle the man, but he knew Gallagher’s type wouldn’t respond to force. Lord, I need patience and steadfastness, Tyler prayed. Feeling the cold bite into his skin, he could only hope that Nathan would lead him to Amy soon.
The back door to the livery swung open then, and a man appeared in the shadowy light. Tyler saw that he matched the description of the man who had sold Amy’s horse.
“Gallagher?” the man called, and Nathan stepped into the light.
“Here,” he replied. “Did you do the job?”
“You paid me to do it, didn’t you?” the man growled. “Still can’t figure selling a fine piece of horseflesh like that for only twenty dollars. Why, the saddle alone—”
“I don’t want to hear what you think,” Nathan interrupted. “That’s precisely why your brother isn’t working with us anymore. Because he thought too much.”
“Well, what do you want me to do now?” the man asked.
“Come back to my room with me. We’ll take the side stairs and no one will see you.” Nathan motioned the man to leave the way he’d come.
Tyler wished he could follow them, but he knew he wouldn’t have enough cover to get close enough where he could be out of sight and still hear the conversation. All he could do was watch the two men walk away, knowing full well that one or both of them knew where his beloved Amy was hidden.
The men had no sooner disappeared into the hotel than Tyler spotted two riders approaching. He figured they would be Randy and Charles, and he bounded down the ladder to meet them in the street before they could go in search of him.
The Carmichael men were anxious for whatever news Tyler could share. He told them what little he knew, including the whereabouts of the man who’d sold Amy’s horse. He and Charles had to grab Randy’s shoulders to keep him from storming over and calling the man into the street.
“It won’t get Amy back,” Tyler insisted, while Charles kept a firm grip on his son’s arm.
“Tyler’s right,” Charles said. “You can’t just barge in over there and spill your guts. If Tyler is right, and Nathan plans to make some move between now and the morning, we’ll be here to see what it is.”
“Each of us needs to stake out a different spot,” Tyler suggested. “I’ll bet Doc would let one of you use his place.”
“We’ll work that out, Tyler,” Charles agreed. “You stay here and we’ll do what we have to.”
“If anyone sees or hears anything that bears notifying the others about, don’t waste any time. We may only have minutes to act.” Tyler’s voice was grave.
Randy nodded and swallowed his anger. “I hope your plan works.”
Tyler looked first at Randy and then Charles. “I pray it does, too.”
Loneliness settled over Tyler after Charles and Randy had gone. Whenever he was near Amy’s family, he felt at least a small link with her, but now nothing distracted him from the image of Amy cold and afraid somewhere, perhaps hurt, needing him…Nothing could comfort him.
No, that wasn’t true, he realized as he settled himself in the loft again. God was with him and God was with Amy. That was comfort enough.
An hour passed before the scraggly-looking man reappeared on the side stairs of the boardinghouse. Tyler watched the darkness, straining to see where the man would go next. He was surprised to see him return to the livery.
Without thought for his safety, Tyler perched himself on the edge of the loft landing and waited for the man to appear. The door groaned as it was pushed open and then closed with a thud. The man had taken only two or three steps when Tyler jumped from the loft and threw his full weight against him. Delivering a well-placed blow to the burly man’s face, Tyler knocked him nearly senseless.
Tyler quickly bound the stranger’s hands and feet, hoping he could finish before the man’s head cleared. His task accomplished, Tyler manuevered the heavy man to one side of the livery and went for a bucket of water to revive him.
The frigid water made the man jump, and his eyes flew open. “What the—” The man noticed Tyler for the first time. “Who are you, mister?”
“I’m Tyler Andrews, the circuit rider for these parts. I’m also the man who hopes to marry Amy Carmichael as soon as she’s found,” Tyler replied.
The man shook his head. “Don’t know no Amy Carmichael.” He reached his tied hands up to his bruised jaw. “Why’d you do this? Sure don’t seem like a very parson-like thing for you to be doing.”
Tyler studied the man carefully. He seemed to be genuinely surprised that Tyler would have any interest in him. “I know you’re working with Nathan Gallagher. And I know you sold Amy’s horse in Hays.”
“I did sell a horse for Gallagher,” the man admitted, “but I didn’t know who it belonged to. He just told me to get rid of it quick-like and I did.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Tyler drew closer. “What does matter is that you’d best tell me where Gallagher has Amy and you’d best tell me right now.”
The man shook his head. “I’m telling you, mister, I don’t know any Amy. There ain’t been any woman involved in my dealings with Gallagher.”
Tyler grabbed the man by the collar and yanked him forward. “Then you’d best tell me what you and Gallagher are up to and let me judge for myself.”
The man’s eyes narrowed, as if he were considering Tyler’s words. “I don’t reckon Mister Gallagher would like that,” he finally replied.
Tyler’s face twisted. He tightened his grip on the man and slammed him back against the wall. “I don’t reckon Gallagher’s going to take the beating that you are when
I go across the street and retrieve Amy’s pa and brother. Of course, that’s going to be after I get done with you myself. After that, I figure you’ll be right glad to go to the gallows.”
The man blanched. He wasn’t getting paid enough by Gallagher to take the gallows for him. Especially if Gallagher had done in some woman in the process of setting up his scheme. Looking into the preacher’s face, the man met his deadly stare. What he saw there was more than enough to unnerve him.
“I’ll talk,” the redheaded man declared. “I ain’t going to hang for something I ain’t done.”
“You’d best get to it then.” Tyler’s voice was ominously calm.
“Gallagher plans to rob the bank tomorrow morning,” the man replied. “He has the combination to the safe and while the town is celebrating Christmas at the school, he’s going to let himself in and clean out the harvest money.”
Tyler nodded. The man’s explanation made everything fall into place. Somehow, Amy must have overheard Gallagher’s plans. That was why he had taken her hostage. At last her disappearance was starting to make some sense.
“How do you and your brother figure in this?” Tyler asked, surprising the man with his reference to his brother.
Rather than question the preacher, though, since the huge man seemed to be feeling a might testy, the red-haired man hurried to answer his question. “We arranged to get Gallagher’s stuff out of town. Then we were to act as lookouts while Gallagher took the money. We aren’t involved in any killings, though, and I never did see any woman. That’s the God’s honest truth, preacher.”
“Gallagher never said anything about a woman overhearing his plans? He never told you that the horse belonged to Amy Carmichael?”
“No, sir, he never told me nothing. He got mad at my brother and told him to git. Told me I could have his cut if I wanted to keep on with the plan. It sounded like easy money, so I told him I would. When he told me to take the horse to Hays, he just told me to get rid of it without a scene and to take whatever I could get without haggling the price. I did that and came back here to let him know and get ready for tomorrow.”
Tyler realized the man was most likely telling the truth. He studied him for a moment before speaking. “So you aren’t supposed to see Gallagher again until tomorrow?”
“I ain’t supposed to meet up with him until after the job’s done,” the man admitted. “I’m supposed to wait between the bank and the school and make sure no one interrupts Gallagher. After that, I’m supposed to ride out and meet him at the river.”
Tyler nodded. “Good enough. I’m going to have to lock you up, but maybe once this is done with—and if Miss Carmichael is found, unharmed—just maybe the judge will go easy on you for cooperating with me.”
The man grumbled at Tyler’s plan, but he knew he had nothing to bargain. He nodded weakly and resigned himself to captivity.
Tyler locked the man in the tack room and hurried to find Charles and Randy. He located Charles first and together they went to retrieve Randy. He quickly explained to them what he knew.
“Look,” Tyler said, the excitement clear in his voice. “Gallagher plans to rob the bank tomorrow while we’re having Christmas service. We’ve got to play this thing out carefully and give him no reason to believe that anything is amiss. Most likely he’ll be ready to use Amy as insurance for his plans.”
“What’ll we do?” Charles asked cautiously.
“We’ll act as though nothing has changed,” Tyler said. “Randy, you go on home to your family and, Charles, you do the same. Get everybody up and around for the services and bring them on in, just like you planned.”
“We can’t just pretend nothing’s happened,” Randy protested.
“Of course we can.” Tyler’s firmness hushed Randy’s objection. “It’s the only way we can smoke Gallagher out of his hole.”
“The Andersons will need to know,” Charles said. “They’ve been so good to help look for Amy. I know they’d want to be in on this.”
“Good. In fact,”—Tyler had a sudden thought—“we’ll need Ed to be inside the bank before Gallagher gets there.”
“What do you have in mind?” Charles asked. He looked at the preacher and shook his head, and his lips curled a little. “Never would have thought no parson could be as mean as you are.”
“Even Christ got angry enough to physically throw the money changers out of the Temple,” Tyler answered. “When He saw true evil, He was just as ‘mean’ as I feel today.”
“What do you have in mind?” Charles repeated.
Tyler smiled, feeling assurance for the first time. He’d finally nailed Gallagher down. “Well, I see it like this…”
Chapter 15
The sleepy people of Deer Ridge emerged from the warmth of their homes and made their way to the schoolhouse for Christmas morning services. Tyler stood outside the school welcoming the families as though nothing was amiss. He saw pain and fear in the eyes of some of the people and wished he could ease their minds even a portion.
Wagons came rattling in from the farthest reaches, and those who dared to make the snowy trip were anxious to seek the warmth of the school building. Dora and Angie Carmichael arrived well bundled in the buckboard, with Charles riding alongside. Close behind them was Randy and his family in their wagon, with Randy’s horse tied on the back. Tyler nodded to the two Carmichael men and felt a calm assurance that everything was falling into place.
He cast a quick glance down the street to where the bank stood. Ed Anderson had taken up his place there some hours earlier, and Tyler knew that the other Anderson men were waiting out of sight in order to lend a hand in the capture of Nathan Gallagher. All was progressing as planned.
“Let’s hurry inside, folks,” Tyler called to the gathering crowd. “We’ve got a good fire going in the stove and Brother Smith has kindly furnished hot cider for everyone.”
The children clapped their hands at this, and the adults offered brief smiles of gratitude. Tyler knew their discouragement and worry. Wasn’t his own heart nearly broken? Didn’t his own mind strike against him with torturous thoughts that Amy might already be dead?
Please, Father, he prayed silently, help me be strong for these people. Help me to help them through this. And be with Amy wherever she is. Let her know that help is on its way—that we haven’t forgotten her.
Amy struggled to climb again onto the table. She had little strength left to even walk, much less to put forth the energy required to knock a hole in the roof. She had no way of knowing how much time had passed, but in spite of the care she had taken, she was out of water now, and the lamp was nearly out of oil.
Always before, Amy had forced herself to ignore her dilemma and to concentrate instead on the task at hand. Minute by minute, she reminded herself that she could lie down and die, or fight to escape. Up until this moment, she had always chosen quickly to fight. Now, however, she was tired, cold, hungry, and completely defeated in spirit.
“God,” she whispered in a hoarse voice, “I know You’re here.” She felt like crying, but tears had long since stopped coming. “I’ve got nothing else to give, Lord. I’m spent and we both know it.”
Just then a huge clod of dirt worked loose from the roof and fell, striking Amy across the face. The pain it caused was brief, but the sunlight it let in was stunning.
Amy stared up in disbelief at the small hole. Bits of snow came in with the dirt, and Amy instantly reached out to pull a handful of the moist whiteness into her mouth. Her lips and tongue seemed to suck up the snow instantly, and eager for more, Amy reached out again and again.
The stream of sunlight offered only shadowy light to the room, but it was enough to encourage Amy. She felt as though God had spoken to her directly, and she worked at the hole with fresh strength, scraping and clawing, until all of her fingers were cut and bleeding.
But she was too weak to work for very long. When her legs would hold her no longer, Amy let herself sink down on the tabletop to rest. After a m
oment, she rolled from its surface and took herself to the bed, hoping to regain even a little more strength so that she could continue her work.
She closed her eyes and felt the air grow colder. She hadn’t thought about the fact that by making a hole in the roof, she would lose what little warmth she’d maintained in the dugout. Opening her eyes, Amy glanced up at her handiwork, then sat up abruptly. Her newfound hope ebbed into despair. The hole was hardly more than eight inches across, too small to do her any practical good. All of her hard work had rendered nothing more than this!
She began to sob, though her eyes refused to produce tears, and she slumped down again on the bed. Hopeless despair filled her heart and all reasonable thought left her mind.
“I’m going to die,” she cried. “Oh God, I can’t bear this!”
Her body was spent, and she had no energy left to urge her on. For a moment longer she struggled to call forth the will to fight, but then at last she gave up and offered God her life, praying that death would be quick and painless.
The exhaustion of the past week had overtaken her, and she had no strength left to fight death any longer. Without even bothering to pull the filthy cover around her, Amy let her mind drift into dreams of her family and Tyler.
It must be close to Christmas, she thought. Will they still have the Christmas service? Will they sing the old songs? she wondered.
Strains of music rose through her memories. The haunting melody of “Silent Night” brought her tired mind peace. “All is calm, all is bright.” She mouthed the words. “Sleep in heavenly peace.” Yes, she thought. I will sleep in heavenly peace.
Tyler stood at the front of the school room for only a moment. He looked out at the community gathered there, and then he made a brief statement. When he had finished, stunned silence echoed through the room.
“You must help us,” Tyler beseeched the crowd. “Amy Carmichael’s life depends on it. I don’t mind telling you good folks, her life has come to mean a great deal to me.”