by Merry Farmer
He winced. She was right. He had seen rows of cots in those upstairs rooms the day before. Only an expert would know how to clear out the rooms and make them into something else so fast. He swore under his breath, hating that he’d been fooled and hating the consequences of that fooling even more. The Chance kids were in danger that he could only dream of, right now, and he didn’t know where to start.
“The police will know something,” he said, taking Josephine’s hand and starting up the street.
“Yes, they—”
“Wait!” The call that stopped them was barely more than a whisper, but it was so desperate that it stopped both Pete and Josephine in their tracks.
Pete turned back. At first he didn’t see anything. Then came a rustling in the bushes. He narrowed his eyes and stared. Someone was hiding in one of the bushes between two houses. “Who are you?”
His question was met by silence. Whoever was hiding, they weren’t going to come out. Pete glanced quickly to Josephine, and when he nodded, they both rushed to the bush.
As soon as they got close enough, Pete could see the maid from the house across the cove from Mrs. Fielding’s place crouching inside the bush, where she couldn’t be seen. “They’ll kill me if they know I told you,” she whispered, clearly terrified.
“Tell us what?” Josephine must have been trying to keep her voice neutral, but she was a mother whose children had been taken. There was nothing soothing about her.
“They round up children,” the maid went on. “One’s no one wants, ones who wander off or are lost. They take them to the sea. There’s a hidden port just south of where the rivers meet the ocean. The ship is there.”
“Ship? What ship?” Dread burned hot in Pete’s stomach.
“They take them to Mexico and sell them,” the maid went on, strangled by fear and regret.
“No.” Josephine clenched Pete’s arm hard.
“When are they sailing?” Pete demanded.
“Today, I think,” the maid said. “She knew that you’d try to come after them. She realized too late you were a threat.”
“How do you know this?” Josephine asked.
“Because…because they tried to take me when I was young too.” The maid burst into tears. “No one wanted me. But they needed a slave up here. It was stay and be silent or go to Mexico. I’m quiet, so they forget I’m there when they talk. I don’t want any attention. I just want to be left alone.”
As much as Pete’s heart went out to the unfortunate girl, he was still furious with her part in the abduction. They didn’t have time to stand around and make her feel better, though. “Go to the sheriff,” he demanded. “Tell them what you told me.” He started to turn away.
“I can’t. He’ll hurt me,” the maid squeaked out.
“He won’t,” Josephine insisted. “The law will help. It’s their job.”
“We don’t have time to argue about this.” Pete stood straight, backing away from the bush. The pitiful maid could go to the police, turn herself in, and help with the investigation, or she could go back and be there when all his fury and the full force of the law rained down on Mrs. Fielding and the others. He gestured for Josephine to give him her hand. When she did, he grabbed hold and began to march along the street to where the sheriff’s office stood.
At the last minute, the maid scrambled out of the bush and followed them. It was only then that Pete noticed old, faded bruises on her arms and one almost completely faded on her face. He saw red. For the maid’s sake, yes, but also with the thought that whoever had done that to one endangered orphan might do the same to his Muriel.
He’d only just begun to consider that dark possibility and everything he would do to punish anyone who would raise a hand to Muriel when a cheerful call of, “Pete, Josephine!” sounded from the street ahead of them. Pete glanced up to see Libby and Teddy coming their way hand in hand.
Josephine wasn’t quick enough to strangle the cry of despair that rose up through her.
“We’re on our way to visit the kids,” Libby started, smiling.
Pete did the only thing he could do and jumped into an explanation before Josephine would have to. “The kids have been kidnapped.” It was too hard to look at Libby as horror struck her, so he focused on Teddy. “Mrs. Fielding fooled us. This girl here—” He gestured to the maid.
“Penny,” the maid whispered, head lowered.
“Penny,” Pete went on, “told us they’re taking the kids to a ship and they’re like to sell them down in Mexico.”
“Oh no.” Libby swayed, nearly falling into Teddy, instantly in tears. “I never should have left them.”
Teddy grew in Pete’s esteem as he caught her and said without hesitating, “Which way did they go? I’ll find them and bring them back.”
Pete turned to Penny.
“It happened in the middle of the night,” she said. “They could be all the way at the ocean by now. But the ship can’t sail unless it has the tide.”
“Then we’d better find them before the tide turns in their favor,” Pete said. He launched into motion, heading for the sheriff’s office, Josephine and the others following.
Chapter Ten
Josephine had never felt any fear that came close to the terror that pumped through her as she ran with Pete and the others to Oregon City’s sheriff’s office. Her mind reeled as she imagined all the ways that Luke and Freddy and Muriel could have been harmed. The sheriff jumped into action as soon as Pete explained the situation. One of his deputies kept Penny back to question her as Pete and Teddy headed back to the hotel to fetch their horses. The sheriff had assured him he could handle the situation, but he welcomed their offer to help.
Tears were streaming down Josephine’s face, and she clutched Libby’s hand so tightly as they rushed into the hotel’s back yard that both of their knuckles were white.
“I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose them,” Libby lamented.
“I don’t either.” Josephine turned to hug her. Pete and Teddy rushed to saddle their horses.
“You don’t?” Libby blinked at Josephine, her lashes damp with tears. “But I thought—”
Josephine shook her head, silencing Libby. “It was a terrible mistake to take the kids to that woman’s house in the first place. I don’t know what Pete and I were thinking. We weren’t,” she concluded. “We let other people’s views of what folks our age should and shouldn’t be doing with our lives cloud what we both knew—what we all knew—to be right in our hearts.”
“Thank heavens.” Libby’s exclamation of relief was short-lived. In an instant, she was in tears once more. “We have to find them.”
“If anyone can, it’ll be Pete.”
“And Teddy,” Libby added.
“And me.” Behind them, Graham was making his way down the hotel porch’s back stairs. He had his false leg in place and was more nimble than Josephine had ever seen him. “Word just got to me about what happened to the Chance kids,” he said. “Pete’s going after the kidnappers?”
Josephine nodded, caught between gratitude that so many people were willing to help them and agony that they needed help in the first place.
Graham continued past them to the group of horses being saddled in the livery. “I’m going too.”
“But Lt. Tremaine,” Libby began to protest.
Josephine caught her arm to keep her from impeding his progress to the livery. “Graham was a soldier, Libby. He’s one of the best men I can think of to help Pete get your brothers and sister back.”
Libby nodded, panic making her pale. The men finished saddling the horses and mounted up. Pete nudged his horse into the yard and up to Josephine. “You coming?” He held a hand down to her.
“Me?” Her eyes flew wide.
“I figure the kids will need you as soon as we get them away from their abductors.”
He was so certain they would be able to get the children back, and there wasn’t a hint of doubt or hesitation in his eyes because of her age or
sex. That in itself filled Josephine with the confidence to go one.
“Yes.” She stepped over to the mounting block at the edge of the yard and used it to climb onto the back of Pete’s horse. As soon as she had her arms clamped around his middle, they shot forward, out into the street with the other men.
Pete knew Oregon City well enough to know where to meet up with the sheriff and his man, and evidently Teddy did as well. The sheriff had held back only enough to give Pete and the others a chance to catch up. As soon as they joined the group, the sheriff nodded, and the entire posse bolted into a run. They moved too fast for conversation or directions, but Josephine saw that as a good thing. Running without talking meant the sheriff knew where he was going. Penny must have known enough to give him precise directions to the secret port where Mrs. Fielding’s ship was moored. It was just a matter of time and prayers that the tide would hold off long enough for them to get there.
Josephine felt as though they had been riding for hours, and yet no time at all, when they burst through the undergrowth and into a sheltered cove. Her back hurt and her legs were stiff, but it hardly mattered. A large ship was anchored out in a natural harbor. Even from a distance, she could see the lines keeping it steady, could tell it wasn’t in imminent danger of sailing. Better still, a slew of men and rowboats was scattered on the sand by the side of the water, also not looking as though they would be setting out soon. Best of all, Freddy and Muriel—and at least a dozen other children who looked worse for wear—were lined up, sitting in the sand against the rowboats.
Unfortunately, they were seen in an instant. Shouts rose up from the burly, unkempt men lounging around the beach. In seconds, they’d jumped into action, reaching for weapons. Two or three lunged toward the boats.
“That lot there,” the sheriff shouted.
Moments later, gunshots rang out. Strange, eerie, muffled sounds came from the boats. Josephine strained to see what they were, but Pete was busy turning his horse about and drawing the revolver holstered at his side. He ducked as a shot whizzed past them.
“Get down!” he shouted, then shifted into motion, nearly dragging her off the horse as he dismounted.
She could forgive him a bit of rough handling as they both collapsed into the sand. Another whizz above her, and Josephine realized he’d thrown her down to shield her from a bullet. That didn’t stop him from launching into action. He spun quickly to face whoever had fired at them, then dashed off a few shots of his own from a splayed position on his side. Josephine yelped as a man who had been running toward them, arm outstretched, revolver in hand, crumpled to the ground.
A flash of a heartbeat later, Pete twisted, lifting to his knees, and fired his gun twice more. The camp had erupted into so much chaos that Josephine couldn’t tell who his target was. She scrambled toward a rocky outcropping as Pete hefted himself to his feet and darted for his horse. Like a man half his age, he drew a rifle from the saddle, then pivoted to aim it. Two more shots were fired, and more of the kidnappers went down.
Even as pride in Pete and his skill and daring welled in Josephine, a deeper, darker urgency took over. She gave herself three seconds to catch her breath as she reached the rocks, then she peeked around to assess the situation. Pete was still fighting like mad, charging at one of the kidnappers, then bashing him with the butt of his rifle. Fewer shots were being fired, but more of the men were engaged in hand-to-hand combat. The sheriff and one of his deputies were tussling with a pair of men that looked more like pirates than anything else. Teddy was on the ground, wrestling in the sand with another kidnapper. Graham was holding his own against a pair of men wielding knives. Just watching him move, Josephine could imagine how effective a soldier he’d been before losing his leg.
The combat didn’t hold her attention, though. The muffled, mournful sound was still coming from the rowboats. With a sick swallow, she realized it was the children making those sounds. They had all been gagged, but they were trying to scream. Their hands and feet must have been tied, because try though they did to squirm and break free, they were anchored solidly to the sand.
She gathered her skirts and leapt up from behind the rocks, running as fast as she could toward the rowboat nearest her. A few more shots cracked through the grunts and smacks of the men fighting, but she didn’t have time to worry about whether they were intended for her. Freddy and Muriel were tied side-by-side in front of the boat nearest her. Their faces were pale and dirty, and when they saw her, their eyes went wide.
“Don’t you worry,” she called to them. “I’m coming.”
Another shot sounded, and something swished by her unbound hair, but she ignored it. Her focus locked hard on the children. She threw herself to her knees, landing softly in the sand in front of them, then grabbed at the ropes binding the frightened children. Within seconds, it was apparent she could fumble for days and she’d never untie a single knot in the thick, prickly rope.
“Hold on, darlings, hold on!” She grabbed the edge of the rowboat and pushed herself to her feet, sprawling over the side of the boat, hoping to find a knife or anything sharp inside. She flinched back with a gasp when she found Luke squirming in the bottom of the boat. “Luke!”
He was bound hand and foot, much more extensively than any of the children trapped around the craft, and gagged so tightly his face had gone red. Better red than blue, though. A few supplies lay in the boat near Luke’s madly thrashing feet, but no knives.
“Hang on,” she shouted, then twisted to search for anything that would help her.
The hand-to-hand battles continued to rage around her. Graham had taken down one of the men he’d been fighting, but the other continued to grapple with him. They were within fifteen yards. Knives. Those two men had been fighting Graham with knives. Josephine dropped to her knees and scrambled across the sand toward the man Graham had knocked out.
Luck was on their side. The man had dropped his knife at some point, and it had landed close enough to Josephine that she was able to reach it. The man groaned and rolled toward her as she snatched the knife. She shrieked, but managed to pull away before he could come around and stop her.
A thump stopped her backward progress. She jerked to look up in time to see the man Graham was still fighting wheel around and stab his knife hard into Graham’s leg. His wooden leg. The man’s sick grin vanished when Graham barely flinched, then laid into him with a blow that knocked him out.
Josephine laughed, almost hysterical. Lucy Faraday would get a chuckle out of knowing her husband’s marvelous invention had effectively saved Graham’s life. The thought was fleeting, though. She forced herself to focus and crawl back to the children.
As terrified as the young ones were, sense told her to free Luke first. She hoisted herself up over the side of the rowboat and went to work, sawing away at the rope binding Luke’s hands. As soon as she broke through a few of the coils—enough for Luke to wriggle loose and hold his tied wrists toward her—she worked faster to get his hands free. As soon as those bindings broke apart, Luke reached to tug down his gag as Josephine went to work on his legs and feet.
“What’s happening?” Luke barked, voice rough and dry. He began coughing before Josephine could start her answer.
“We went to take you back, but Mrs. Fielding pretended she didn’t know who we were or who you were. Pete fetched the sheriff.” Luke’s legs snapped free, and Josephine pushed herself up, whirling to see what was going on. “It looks like we’re winning!”
For one, shining moment, she stood tall and watched Pete fight. Whether he was out of bullets or whether the time had passed to use them, he was holding his own, using his rifle as a club and smashing through the few kidnappers who were left standing. His eyes blazed with fury, and his muscles strained against the fabric of his shirt. Josephine wasn’t at all surprised that he had that energy in him. She’d felt his potency first-hand the night before.
That thought snapped her into action. She dropped to her knees as Luke climbed out of the
rowboat. Luke continued to cough as Josephine went to work on the ropes binding the children. Freddy was on the end of the row, and she was able to cut through his bindings, but as soon as he wriggled free, it became apparent that the children were not only tied up, they were tied to each other and to something underneath the boat. It was hard, slow work to free them one at a time, particularly as most of them were so frightened they only screamed and cried and tried to cling to Josephine as she freed them.
“It’s all right, loves, it’s all right.” She did her best to reassure them. The ones that didn’t need hugs were trying to run away. She wanted to go after them, but there were more ropes to cut.
“They’re on the other side of the boat too.”
Josephine was so involved in her work that she barely heard Pete’s voice, hardly registered that he had joined her in her work. As soon as it hit her, she snapped her head up. The fight was over. All across the beach, the sheriff and his men were restraining the kidnappers who were still conscious. Graham and Teddy had gone to work tying the hands and feet of the ones who’d been knocked out or injured. The battle was over and they’d won.
“I’ll get these ones,” Pete went on. He knelt, disappearing on the other side of the boat.
Josephine finished freeing the last of the children on the boat’s one side, then crawled around to find a second row of children against the other side. Their bindings disappeared under the boat as well, as though the kidnappers had tied them all in a group, then shoved the boat on top of their bonds to prevent them from moving.
The boat.
Still buzzing with full excitement, Josephine straightened and stared out into the water. The ship was bustling with activity. Men were running up and down the deck, casting off ropes and pulling in anchors. Sailors scrambled up into the rigging and unfurled sails.
“They’re getting away,” she called out.
But there was nothing to be done.
“I don’t have any men to spare to go after them,” the sheriff said as he jogged down to the water’s edge. He swore under his breath, then went on with, “Even if I did, my men would be outnumbered. We can’t do a blasted thing about that ship.”