A Worthy Pursuit

by Karen Witemeyer

  Her face looked so peaceful in sleep, so untroubled.

  “Help me keep her safe, Lord,” Charlotte whispered before touching her lips to Lily’s brow.

  A quiet knock sounded on the front door. Frowning, Charlotte turned. Who would be at her door this time of night? The rapping sounded again. Louder this time.

  Stephen moaned and flopped over on his side. The action spurred Charlotte forward. The children needed their rest. Besides, good news never came calling at night. Only bad. The children had had enough upheaval already without adding more worries to their load. Stone had promised to notify her at once if anyone spotted Franklin around the ranch. Perhaps that time had finally arrived.

  Her abdomen twisted, but she lifted her chin and hurried to the door. “Trust in the Lord,” Charlotte murmured under her breath, the reminder helping her reestablish her composure. He could be trusted. He’d sent Stone to protect them, after all.

  Only it wasn’t Stone outside her door. When she pulled back the swath of burlap Daniel Barrett used for a curtain, she found two cowhands standing on the cabin’s porch, their faces too shadowed for her to make out. The one doing the knocking must have caught the curtain’s movement, for he stepped over to the window and politely yanked his hat from his head.

  “You mind openin’ the door, ma’am?” His muffled voice distorted as it passed through the window glass.

  Charlotte shook her head. She wasn’t about to open the door without them stating their business. Their being here at all was highly improper. She did recognize the one at the window, though, so a few of the knots in her stomach relaxed.

  He was one of the young stable boys who tended the horses and kept the barn clean. Jimmy, she thought. He couldn’t be more than sixteen or seventeen, judging by the smoothness of his cheeks, but he was as tall as any of the other hands around the ranch. Charlotte had come across him in the stables a time or two over the past few days.

  “I’m sorry to disturb you at such an hour, ma’am, but you’re needed up at the big house.” He crouched down in order to position his face closer to the window so she could hear him better. “Miz Hawkins sent for ya. She took sick all sudden like . . . with an . . . ah, womanly ailment. She’s in terrible pain, ma’am, but too embarrassed to let any of us menfolk help her. My brother will watch over the kids while I escort you to the house.”

  Charlotte nibbled her lip in indecision. She longed to assist Marietta in her time of need, but she didn’t feel comfortable leaving the children in a stranger’s care. Especially since the second man made no move to step closer to the window.

  Dropping the burlap curtain, Charlotte stepped to the door and lifted the heavy bar that blocked the men’s entrance. Holding her wrapper closed around her throat, she opened the door just enough to peek her head out.

  “I’d be happy to assist Miss Hawkins,” she said in a low voice, “but I’d prefer it if Mr. Hammond watched the children in my absence. They are more comfortable with him, you see.” She turned an apologetic smile to the man in the shadows.

  The instant her head turned, the shadowy man charged. He thrust his arm through the slim opening and slammed his palm into her shoulder. Charlotte gasped and staggered back, almost tumbling onto her rump. The man shoved his way into the cabin, throwing the door wide. Only then did she see his face.

  One of the attackers from the road.

  “Lily!” Charlotte spun and ran for the settee, but the man grabbed her from behind and covered her mouth with his hot, meaty hand.

  Charlotte screamed against his palm and kicked out with her legs, twisting and writhing in terror. He didn’t even grunt as her bare feet batted him.

  Stephen was the first to wake. He bounded to his feet, narrowed his eyes, and let out a war cry. “Let go of Miss Lottie!” Lowering his head like a bull, he charged Charlotte’s captor. Jimmy rammed into him first, shouldering him with enough force to send the boy sprawling onto the floor. He crumpled into a heap, moaned, and raised a hand to his head.

  Lily screamed Stephen’s name, her legs tangling in her covers in her haste to get to him. “You big bully!” she yelled, her eyes spitting fire as she scrambled over to Stephen. “When Stone finds out about this, he’s gonna whup you good.”

  Jimmy darted a glance from the girl to his brother and back again. His chest heaved as if he were suddenly having difficulty catching his breath. The threat wasn’t an idle one, and he knew it. “Are you sure about this, Winston? They aren’t acting like they’ve been kidnapped.”

  “Do what I tell ya, boy. You owe me.” Winston’s foul breath turned Charlotte’s stomach. “Franklin can sort out the details. All I care about is the fifty dollars he promised anyone who could find the girl. If we bring the girl to him, he’ll up the price. Thar may be a hun’red in it for us. You wanna keep shoveling manure all your life, or you want a real man’s pay?”

  Awakened by the commotion, John whimpered and clutched the blanket to his chin like a shield. He sat up and scooted his back as far into the corner as he could, drawing his knees up in front of him.

  “Grab the girl.” Charlotte’s captor twisted so he could scowl at Lily. “We’re rescuin’ you, runt. You’ll thank us when you’re back with your family.”

  “Miss Lottie is my family,” Lily wailed. “My mama gave me to her.”

  Charlotte nodded her head vigorously against the cowboy’s hold, but his grip only tightened, his hand pressing so hard against Charlotte’s mouth, her teeth began to ache.

  “Jimmy,” Winston ground out between clenched teeth, “get to it.”

  The younger brother approached Lily like one would a cornered animal. Hunched over, arms outstretched to catch her if she tried to bolt. Lily shook her head. “No! I’m not going with you. I’m staying with Miss Lottie and Stone.”

  “I’m not gonna hurt ya,” Jimmy cajoled.

  Stephen pushed to his feet and placed himself between the girl and the much larger man. “Leave us alone.”

  “Can’t do that, kid,” Winston growled next to Charlotte’s ear.

  “Sorry,” Jimmy murmured as he grabbed Stephen by the neck. He flung him over the arm of the settee as if he wanted to give the boy a soft landing on the cushions. Then he wasted no time lunging for Lily. She screamed, but he was ready. He stuffed a wadded bandana in her mouth and scooped her up, keeping her arms pinned to her chest. She kicked her legs, ramming her heels into his hip, but the lanky young man seemed impervious to the attack.

  Seeing Lily in the man’s arms snapped something inside Charlotte. She went wild, launching herself upward with her legs as she slammed her head back. Her skull crashed into the forehead of her captor with a satisfying crack.

  “Ow!” Winston called her a foul name then threw her against the wall. The force of the collision stole her breath for precious seconds. Just as she found her wind and opened her mouth to scream, Winston thrust an acrid cloth into her mouth. It tasted of sweat and dirt, but Charlotte pushed at it with her tongue anyway. She had to get it out. Had to scream for help.

  But it was no use. The man was too strong. In a matter of minutes, he stripped the belt from her wrapper and used it to tie her hands behind her back. He leaned close to secure the gag to her mouth with a handkerchief he’d pulled from his pocket. Stephen, bless him, rushed past, making a beeline for the door.

  Yes! Run, Stephen. Get help. Get Stone.

  Charlotte thrashed harder, twisting her head from side to side, hoping to distract her captor. Stephen made it to the door, lifted the bar, and had just started to pull it inward when a booted foot kicked it closed.

  Jimmy.

  Charlotte nearly wept, but smothered the inclination. She’d not give these men that victory over her. Besides, a stuffy nose would make breathing rather difficult with a gag stuffed in her mouth. She’d be strong for the children. Not that emotional strength did her much good when her hands were bound, and now her ankles as well. Winston’s boney knees pinned her feet to the floor as he fastened a leather strap b
elow her calves.

  The minute he finished with her, he grabbed Stephen and gave him the same treatment—bound his hands and feet and gagged him. Stephen glared daggers at the man—daggers the man ignored. At least Stephen was too angry to be afraid. Poor John must be falling apart. Charlotte glanced over to the corner where the boy had been sitting.

  He was gone.

  25

  Charlotte jerked her attention back to the men stomping about the main room. They didn’t seem to notice anything amiss. Never had she been more thankful for John’s quiet nature. If ever there was a time for the little boy to slip past someone’s notice, it was now. But where had he gone? The cabin only had one door, and he’d not exited there. She would have seen him.

  A window? Mr. Barrett had a small one in his bedroom, but the latch stuck something awful. She’d barely been able to pry the thing open herself when she and Marietta had aired out the room that first morning. She couldn’t imagine John’s tiny fingers managing the task.

  Well, wherever the boy was, he was out of sight and out of mind as far as the two villains were concerned, and that was victory enough for now.

  “We’ll wrap her up in this.” Winston flung the charcoal-gray blanket from Stephen’s pallet into the air with a snap. It fluttered gently to the floor. “Lay her down, and hold her arms and legs steady.” He was ready with another handkerchief to secure Lily’s gag the instant Jimmy relaxed his hold on her to lay her down.

  Lily’s eyes met Charlotte’s. Swollen. Red-rimmed. Glistening with terror. Pleading with her teacher to do something.

  Charlotte longed for the strength of Samson, to snap her bonds and crack the imbecilic skulls of the cowboys holding her precious Lily down. But she had no such strength. She was helpless.

  Or was she?

  Charlotte calmed her desperate flailing and straightened her spine against the frame of the settee until she sat with all the elegance of a queen upon a throne. She had no physical strength to offer Lily, but she could fortify the child’s spirit. Give her reason to hope. Grant her assurance that no matter what these men intended, they wouldn’t win in the end. God would watch over her. And Stone would come for her.

  Lily’s chin lifted just a hair. Her sniffling ceased. Her legs and arms stilled. Then her head dipped ever so slightly, and Charlotte knew she’d taken the message to heart. Rescue would come.

  “Wrap the blanket ’round the girl good and tight, Jimmy, but leave that top part open to flap over her face when we get to the patrol. The dark color will make her invisible this time of night, but I’ll have to sit in the wagon bed with her to make sure she don’t wiggle enough to draw notice while you get us past the guard.”

  The foul man had the audacity to grin as his brother cocooned Lily like an unwilling caterpillar. “Yes, sirree.” He rubbed his hands together. “My luck’s finally turnin’ around. First, I’m the only one of Gordon’s gang to get away from that Hammond fellow without a scratch, then when I meet up with my kid brother for a drink at the Coyote, he tells me about Hammond, a teacher, and a group of kids hidden away on the Double H. The very same combination we met on the road. Too good to be coincidence.” The wolfish gleam in his eye raised Charlotte’s hackles. “Some might say I was destined to collect that reward. Hard to argue with that, ain’t it, teacher?”

  Only because she had a gag stuffed in her mouth. She glared at him since she had no other recourse.

  He laughed.

  “Let’s get outta here before someone catches us, Win. If I ain’t long gone by the time Barrett figures out who took the girl, I ain’t gonna live long enough to enjoy that reward. Neither of us will.” Jimmy tossed the blanketed bundle over his shoulder like a sack of flour. Lily hung lax. No more fighting. No more weeping. Just a single haughty glare she raised up long enough to drill into Winston as he moved past her to unbar the door. A glare that promised retribution.

  The man’s step stuttered. He looked away, cursed, then wrenched the door open. “C’mon. That Houston fella should be waitin’ on us by now. I wired him about the delivery. If we hurry, we can be out of the county before daybreak.”

  Jimmy grunted and followed. Charlotte strained against her bonds, desperate to help her daughter, but helpless to do so. Before she could even pull up to her knees, the door slammed shut.

  They’re getting away!

  Charlotte twisted to her side and scooted her rump across the floor until she could reach the arm of the settee with her mouth. She scraped her face against the upholstered edge. Again. The handkerchief refused to budge. Again and again. She had to get the thing off. Had to alert Stone. Finding a rough spot where an upholstery tack jutted out from the fabric, she intensified her efforts, trying to hook it like a fish. She had just found a promising grip when a sharp thump echoed against the cabin wall.

  Her gaze flashed over to Stephen. He’d managed to wiggle his way to his feet but stilled at the unexpected sound. A second thump rattled the window behind her. What little light had been filtering in from outside suddenly vanished.

  The storm shutters. The men were covering the windows. Locking her and the boys inside. Even as the thought registered, the rapping of a hammer carried through the air. First at the shutters. Then the door. They’d sealed every possible exit.

  Charlotte and the boys were trapped. Trapped inside until someone discovered them in the morning. By then it would be too late. Lily would be in Franklin’s hands.

  Unless John had somehow found a way to escape. He was a tiny scrap of a boy. Even if he couldn’t get the window open, perhaps he’d gotten out some other way. A loose floorboard opening into a crawl space beneath the cabin? The hole for the stovepipe in the ceiling? He wasn’t exactly the adventurous type, but if he were frightened enough . . .

  “Are the bad men gone, Miss Lottie?”

  John. His small frame stood silhouetted against the light of the bedroom lamp. Charlotte swallowed her disappointment as the boy crept into the main room, trailing his blanket behind him. He was safe. Unharmed. Reason enough to be grateful.

  “Mm-hmm.” Charlotte circled her head to direct John closer. Seeing her state, he dropped his blanket and ran to her. He cupped her cheeks in his hands for a moment, turning her face from side to side, then hooked his fingers around the handkerchief and tugged it down onto her neck. She nodded encouragement to him and thrust her chin out so he would remove the gag. As soon as the foul thing was out, she told John to help Stephen then aimed her face toward the newly covered window and screamed as loud as she could.

  “Stone!”

  Stephen and John soon joined the chorus. “Help us!”

  They screamed until they were hoarse, but no one came. The cabin was too far removed. The walls too thick. The boarded-up windows too solid. As foreman, Daniel Barrett lived apart from the other men, his cabin situated in a lovely spot on the front side of the corral. She’d thought it pretty, located near the paddock, away from the smells of the barn and the noise of the bunkhouse. Now it was an isolated prison, keeping her from going after her daughter.

  “It’s no use,” she finally rasped, urging the boys to cease their shouts. “They can’t hear us.” Defeat brought tears to her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She leaned against the settee and set her shoulders. If Plan A didn’t work, she’d simply have to move on to Plan B. And C and D and on down the list until they found a way out of this mess. Lily was counting on her, and she’d not quit. They were all intelligent people. Surely they could think of something.

  She turned her back to John then twisted her neck to glance at him over her shoulder. “Come here, sweetheart, and help me with this knot.”

  John stepped close, but instead of picking at the knot, he buried his face in Charlotte’s neck.

  “I’m sorry I hid, Miss Lottie. I should have helped you fight the bad men.” Wetness leaked onto Charlotte’s skin. “I was too scared.”

  Charlotte crooked her head around him and raised her shoulder, embracing the boy as best she
could while still bound. “Shhh, sweetheart. You did exactly the right thing. Why, if you hadn’t hidden away, you’d be just as tied up as the rest of us. But since you were so clever, you can be the hero of our story and set Stephen and me free.”

  John pulled away and blinked up at her, his short, damp lashes clumped together. “Wh-where’s Lily?”

  “Waiting for us to rescue her, so we must hurry.” Not wanting the child to get worked up again, she nodded toward Stephen. “I need you to untie my wrists. If we can figure out a way out of here, we can send Stone after Lily.”

  With all the possible exits nailed shut, she found it difficult to grasp much optimism. Still, she scanned the room, examining every section of wall for weakness. Too bad the cabin was made of logs. Not exactly something she could chop a hole in with Stephen’s pocketknife.

  Barrett had taken all his firearms out of the cabin at her insistence. She hadn’t wanted the children exposed to the danger of such weapons. Now, as she examined the top of the tall bookshelf across the room, she prayed he’d forgotten one. A gunshot would bring the men running.

  She squinted. There could be a rifle or shotgun secreted up there. Close to the door, handy for a tall man to reach up and grab as he left. The shadows tantalized her with imagined bounty. She couldn’t see far enough into them from her position on the floor to tell if anything real lingered there or not, but somehow she knew the top of the cabinet would prove to be bare. Daniel Barrett didn’t strike her as the type of man who’d lose track of his guns.

  Please, Lord. We need to get out of here in time to save Lily.

  “I think I know a way to get out.” Stephen’s words rang through the room as if God himself had sent her an answer to her prayer. His gag drooping around his neck, Stephen hopped over to the door, his gaze assessing both edges. “They nailed it shut on the handle side but not on the hinge side. I’ve got a screwdriver in my bag. If we can pry out the hinge pins, we should be able to push the door open. At least far enough to squeeze through.”