Debra Holland (11 page)

A scream cut through the trees on the opposite side of the clearing.
Harriet!

He broke into a run, leaping over rocks in his race across the clearing. He saw a faint path between two trees. He squeezed through sideways, and then dodged around trees, when the path became too narrow. The woods seemed to come alive like a nightmarish Grimm’s fairytale. They reached out skeletal limbs to grab him. He thrashed through the forest muttering curses and inarticulate prayers. It seemed to take hours, but was probably only seconds before he could see though the last of the trees where Harriet lay pinned underneath Lewis as he tore the front of her dress.

Rage crashed through Ant, and he barreled through the trees that tried to confine him.

From behind a boulder, a boy rose, his hand cocked back to throw a rock.
David!

Lewis saw David poised to attack and leaped to his feet. “No you don’t, boy,” he snarled, lunging toward David.

Ant let out a roar and burst into the open.
 

Startled, Lewis glanced over at him, his eyes widening. He lurched to his feet.

Harriet grabbed the man’s ankle and hung on.

David let the rock fly, smashing into his father’s face.

Lewis tottered sideways.

Ant bounded toward Lewis, his fist raised to drive into the man. Then he realized that the small clearing was really the edge of a cliff, and Harriet still clung to Lewis’s leg.
They’ll both go over.

Seeing Ant charging toward him made Lewis shift his weight backwards, only to find no purchace for his feet. He tottered, arms windmilling, eyes bugging out, then toppled back off the cliff.

“Let go!” Ant dove for Harriet. He tackled her just as she started to slide off the edge. A few more inches ….
 

She released Lewis’ leg.

Lewis kept flailing his arms. He let out a cry of fear, and then dropped from sight.

Ant could feel Harriet’s forward momentum slide over the edge. With all his strength, he rolled backward, whipping her over the top of him to his other side. They tumbled together, until he ended up on top of her.
 

Ant’s face rested on Harriet’s stomach. He felt the heat of her and the rise and fall of her gasping breaths.
Thank you, Lord. Thank you, thank you, Lord!

On his elbows, he scooted up until they were face to face. Harriet’s gray eyes were full of fear.

“You’re safe, Harriet.”

A red mark marred her pale cheek.

“He hit you,” he murmured, gently kissing the bruise. “If he wasn’t dead, I’d kill him for that.”

Harriet searched his face, as if needing reassurance. “He’s dead?”

“We’ll check to be sure. But dead, or near dead, he won’t hurt you again.”

Tears welled up in her eyes.

“Harriet, sweetheart.” He slid his arm under her neck and gathered her to him. He could feel the rapid beat of her heart against his chest, and knew she could feel his. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling the scent of her.

Harriet sobbed in his arms, her face turned to his shoulder.

Helpless, all he could do was hold her and make soothing noises as she wept. After a few minutes, to his great relief, she gave a few sniffs, and then pulled away.

He kissed her forehead. “You all right now, Kitten?”

“Yes, I…” Her eyes widened, and she struggled to sit up. “David!”

David.
The boy was leaning over the rock watching them. Untangling himself from Harriet, Ant stood, and helped her to her feet.

Harriet clutched the torn shirtwaist to her chest.

David straightened and tensed to run.

Ant strode to him, hoping to forestall his escape.

David bolted toward the trees on the other side of the boulder.

Where’s he going?
Ant took off after him and caught his nephew just as he reached the woods. He grabbed David by the shoulders, meaning to gently turn him around, but the boy exploded in a frenzy of kicking and hitting. Ant held David away from him, but a kick to his shin made him pull the boy close into a bear hug, and he hooked one leg around David’s knees. From there, no matter how David struggled, he couldn’t get free, nor could he inflict damage on his uncle. “Davy, Davy boy. It’s all right. I’m your Uncle Ant.”

David didn’t cease his frantic struggles.

Ant held him in a firm hug, squishing the boy to him just enough to contain him, but not enough to hurt.

Harriet hurried over. “David, David, you’re safe.”

Ant could see that she wanted to move closer. But afraid she might get kicked, he warned her off with a sharp look.

She obeyed, staying put, arms crossed against her chest.

All of a sudden, David went limp. Wary, lest it be a trick, Ant gradually loosened his hold, but not enough to let go. “Davy, boy. It’s Uncle Ant. Remember the sailboat I brought you the last time I visited? Remember how we sailed it across the pond, and then it sank in the middle? Remember how you cried, and I promised you another one? We bought it the next day.”

David didn’t move. Nor did he turn his head to look at his uncle. Instead, he angled his gaze at Harriet.

Ant nodded for her to come closer. Maybe she could get through to the boy.

Harriet stepped forward and ran a gentle hand across David’s head, brushing the long matted hair back from his head. “David, you saved me,” she said, her voice gentle. “You threw that rock…” her voice caught. She leaned over and kissed his forehead. “Thank you.”

Ant dared to release the boy, but kept a hand on David’s shoulder just in case. “I’ve been looking for you, David, ever since your father took you away. I’ve never forgotten you, never stopped searching. You’re safe now, son.” He cupped his hand under David’s chin and angled the boy’s face to see his eyes.

Instead of the fear or anger he expected to see, there was only blankness in David’s eyes. He stood unresponsive like a puppet.
 

Uneasy, Ant brushed his knuckles across David’s dirty cheek. “I’m going to leave you here with Harriet, while I check on what happened to your pa. You both stay here.” He punctuated his words with a commanding glance at his schoolteacher.

She hesitated before nodding and taking David’s hand.

Bracing himself for what he might see, Ant strode over to the edge of the cliff and looked down.

Lewis’ body lay below, a tiny rag doll, sprawled on his back, three quarters of his body in the stream.

Ant eyed the cliff. No easy way to get down, even if he had wanted to leave David and Harriet to go make sure the man was dead. He’d get them home and come back for the body.
 

He glanced over to see the two of them hand-in-hand, and didn’t like the anxious look on Harriet’s bruised face and how she held her shirtwaist together with her other hand, nor the empty look in David’s eyes. No. He’d send some men for the body. He wasn’t about to leave them alone anytime soon.

* * *

Riding through town next to Ant and David on Shadow, leading the poor, weak mule, Harriet felt every ache in her body. For part of the way, silent tears had spilled down her cheeks, tears she didn’t dare wipe away because then Ant, who was behind her, would know she was blubbering. But the memory of Lewis assaulting her, of him toppling off the cliff, kept coming back to her, no matter how hard she tried to banish the memory. She had to fight the shakes and worked hard to stay upright in the saddle.

The tears had finally dried up. When she went around a sharp bend and out of sight for a moment, she’d taken her handkerchief from her sleeve to mop her eyes and blow her nose. She longed for a hot bath where she could scrub away the feeling of Lewis’ hands on her body and the privacy where she could reflect on the day’s happenings—not something she was likely to find at the Cobbs. There were many times in the last few years she’d wished for her own home, where she could be alone, but never more than today.

At the outskirts of town, the street seemed mostly deserted, thank goodness.
No one to see me riding hatless, with a torn shirtwaist.
Although she was too exhausted and achy to care if anyone did see her.

Toward the middle of town, the Nortons strolled down the street. The couple saw them and stopped. Mrs. Norton, her white hair in a tight bun, waved and angled over to them. Reverend Norton, wearing his old black frock coat, followed behind her. As Mrs. Norton came close she cried out, “You found your nephew, praise the Lord.” Then her gaze sharpened when she saw Harriet’s face and the torn shirtwaist, which she’d tried to tuck into some decency with the couple of pins she’d had in her reticule. “Miss Stanton, what has happened!”

Reverend Norton hurried up. “My dear Miss Stanton, has someone done you harm?”

Harriet shook her head, too weary to explain. “I’m sore, but all right. But I wouldn’t have been if it weren’t for Mr. Gordon. He
and
his nephew saved me.”

Ant urged his horse forward. “It’s a long story, Reverend. As you can see, Miss Stanton and my nephew, David...Gordon are in need of care.”

Mrs. Norton placed her hand on Harriet’s leg. “Dear girl, I’ll go for Dr. Cameron.”

Harriet was about to demur, but Ant cut through the beginning of her protests. “Yes, please, Mrs. Norton. I want the doctor to examine David and see to Harriet’s face.” He shot a don’t-argue-with-me look at her. “Of course, I’ll pay for it.”

Harriet was too worn out to object.

Ant leaned closer to Reverend Norton. “Reverend, my nephew’s father was a murderous criminal. Right now, I won’t go into what he’s done before, but he attacked Miss Stanton. Through her efforts to free herself and those of my nephew, David, here...” he patted the boy on the leg, “to help her, Lewis ended up stumbling off the cliff, just as I arrived on the scene. Could you send some men to retrieve the body?”

Reverend Norton nodded. As the two men discussed logistics, Harriet felt herself sway in the saddle. She dropped the mule’s lead.
I’m so tired!

Ant must have seen, for he lifted David off the horse, and thrust him into the startled minister’s arms. “Don’t let him go.” He hastily dismounted, took two steps to Harriet’s horse, and then reached his hands up to her waist. “Come, Harriet.”
 

She leaned into his hands, and felt herself lifted over the saddle and off the horse. Once on the ground, he held her firmly, which was good because her legs wobbled.

They had attracted more attention. Pepe appeared from the stable, followed by Mack, who seemed to take in the situation without the need for an explanation. “I’ll take the horses and that sorry-lookin’ mule, Mr. Gordon,” Mack said. He picked up the lead from the ground and reached for Brown Boy’s reins, jerking his head to indicate to Pepe to take hold of Shadow. “We’ll git ’em rubbed down and watered. That ole mule needs seeing to. We’ll take care of everything.” He rubbed Brown Boy’s nose. “Maybe a treat, eh, ole boy?”

Vaguely, she heard Mrs. Norton order Artie Sloan to run for Doctor Cameron and ask Helga Mueller to hold onto David. Then the minister’s wife came over to them. “I’ll help her to the Cobbs’, Mr. Gordon. You see to your nephew.”

Harriet could feel Ant’s reluctance to release her. Even if she wanted to cling to the shelter of his arms, his nephew’s needs were his priority. “Yes, Ant, you need to see to David. I’ll be in good hands.”
Hopefully, I won’t bowl Mrs. Norton over if I collapse in the street.

Ant eased away from her, allowing Mrs. Norton to put her arm around Harriet’s shoulders.

Mrs. Cobb must have been watching from the store because she rushed out and hurried over to them. “Miss Stanton, what have you gotten yourself into this time? Oh, your dress, it’s torn. Oh, dear.” A judgmental look crossed her face.

“Hortense Cobb, not another word,” said gentle Mary Norton in an unusually sharp voice. “Miss Stanton was attacked, but saved by Mr. Gordon and the boy before the worst happened, thank the good Lord.”

Mrs. Cobb’s face turned red, and she sputtered, obviously collecting her wits. “Thank the good, Lord, indeed, Mrs. Norton,” she echoed in a pious tone of voice.

“Miss Stanton will be in need of a bath, Hortense,” Mrs. Norton said pointedly.

“Yes, of course. I’ll see to it.” Mrs. Cobb turned and hurried away.

Harriet and Mrs. Norton followed more slowly. Harriet tried not to lean on frail Mrs. Norton.
 

“I know you don’t have it easy, boarding with the Cobbs, Miss Stanton. I’ve often wished the parsonage was bigger so we could take you in.”

Even through her daze, Harriet couldn’t help feeling some wry amusement at Mrs. Norton’s words. The Norton’s often filled their tiny parsonage with those down-on-their-luck individuals in need of a hot meal and place to rest for the night. If their house had a spare bedroom, Harriet would love to be another one of their strays.

Making her slow, painful way to the Cobbs, Harriet worried about David. He was obviously traumatized. All her maternal instincts had awoken, ever since he’d thrown the rock to save her. Her connection to him felt deeper—more natural even than her feelings for her students. She wanted to be there to look after him, see that he was cleaned up and well fed.