Mail Order Mayhem (Mail Order Romance Book 2 - Benjamin and Annie) (6 page)

The tears streaked down his face, but now they took the form of tears of relief and
liberation and so flowed more freely than before. He threw all his pain and grief into the mixture and let the tears wash him clean of all of it. They subsided of their own accord, leaving him refreshed and clear in his thoughts, though he still struggled to maintain his balance on his feet. His legs still wobbled, but he compelled himself to walk, heading toward the trail in the direction of the southern pass. Every step jolted his aching head and threatened to drive him to his knees, but he labored on, not sure where he was really going or what he would do when he got there. He could hardly expect to get very far on foot. He had lost his only horse, and he assumed the bandits had taken it with them. Even if he made it back to his own house, he would have no way to travel in search of Annie. In any case, he could hardly be said to be fit enough to continue the search. He should find a doctor, or maybe a hospital, to check his injuries, before he resumed his journey. He could do all that in Patterson, and maybe procure another horse. Maybe he could meet up with the sheriff there. But he would have to go home to get some money first. It was a long walk home, and an even longer one to Patterson. By that time, Annie could be dead or long gone. No, he couldn’t think like that. He wouldn’t permit it. He must trust to Providence and keep going, no matter what. As long as his broken body still functioned even partially, he must keep trying to get to her. He was her only hope. Perhaps she knew he was not dead, that those scoundrels had not killed him before they left, and she still waited for him to come for her again.

At the southernmost juncture of the valley, where the foothills rose toward the pass, Benjamin scowled up at the slopes rising in front of him and shuddered at the prospect of scaling them in his condition. But just as he
wondered whether to stop or continue on, a snort drew his attention and his heart soared at the sight of his own horse milling around among the trees. The beast gazed placidly at him, its ears pointed toward him, flaring its nostrils at him as if perplexed as to why he hadn’t come to meet it sooner. He stared at the apparition for several seconds, just to assure himself it was real. The horse snorted again and tossed its head. Then it stepped aside, and Benjamin saw that it still wore its saddle and bridle. His rifle still hung from the ties, and his gun belt still dangled from the horn. Benjamin fought to make sense of this turn of events, but the only possible explanation he could think of was that the horse was a gift from God, to facilitate his rescue mission. He still stared incredulously at the horse, until the animal strode toward him of its own accord. It stepped a few paces forward, halted, and tossed its head again, as if insisting that he take its presence seriously, urging him to collect himself and rise to the occasion. He responded by venturing a pace or two in its direction. It stood there, examining him and waiting for him. Another step, and his hand closed around one of the leather reins that drooped from its bridle. He looped his foot into the stirrup, and the horse stood still while he propelled himself into the saddle. As soon as he gained the seat, the horse walked away toward the farmhouse, not waiting for him to control it or direct it.

The sudden change in perspective of viewing the world from horseback rather than on foot brightened Benjamin’s outlook significantly. In the space of minutes, he discarded all notions of retreating to his home or to Patterson or of consulting a doctor about his injuries. In possession once again of his weapons and his means of transportation, he rejected utterly his most recent defeat at the bandits’ hands and erased it from his version of reality. Even his pain dwindled to a distant nuisance akin to background noise. He collected his reins more resolutely in his hands and sat his horse more firmly, taking up the job of riding it
in a forward direction. Only then did he notice the farmhouse approaching, closer and closer, and realized he was travelling north instead of south.

Just as he prepared to rein in his horse and turn around to ride back the other way, they reached the yard in front of the house and the horse stopped there, unbidden. Benjamin studied the surroundings. The house he knew so well stood as silent and vacant as it had during the last three years. Only the indentations of horses’ hooves in the soft soil of the yard offered any indication that people occupied the place anytime recently.
This pattern of hoof tracks, muddying and tearing up the sod, attracted his attention and appeared to him to be the second gift from God.

The mass of traffic leaving the yard continued north, in the direction his horse now pointed its nose. Had the gang of horsemen departed toward the south, in the direction from whence they entered the valley, little or no traffic should have broken the ground in a northerly direction at all. Instead, they departed to the north, where no trail or path led up into the mountains. The sheer number of
hoof tracks offered a perfect road sign displaying their progress and directing him after them. He pressed his ankles into his horse’s flanks and the creature proceeded lightly along its way, as if it knew already where they were going and had wanted to show him the reason for it.

As he sat there pondering the situation, a
low drumming drew his attention back to the pass. A horde of riders crested the rise and streamed into the valley, rushing toward him. Had he not just ascertained that the bandits rode north, he might have been concerned. Instead, he correctly surmised this must be the sheriff’s posse, come to search the Iverson Ranch for the gang of marauders. Sure enough, Sheriff Martin Christopher pulled up his mount a few yards away, and his deputies arrayed themselves behind him as he glared at Benjamin.

“You again!” he exclaimed. “You keep
comin’ back like a bad smell, don’t ya?”

Benjamin shrugged noncommittally but didn’t answer.

“Well, what are you doin’ here?” the sheriff demanded. “I told you to stay out of this.”

“I guess I just don’t do as I’m told,” Benjamin apologized. “I never was much good at that.”

“Are they gone again?” the sheriff scanned the surrounding homestead.

Benjamin nodded. “Looks like it.”

“Do you know when they left?” Christopher asked.

“Yesterday morning sometime, I guess,” Benjamin responded evasively.

“Were you here?” the sheriff questioned. “Were you here when they left?”

Benjamin looked away. “Yeah, I was. Or, at least, I was here just before they left.”

“You confronted them, didn’t you?” the sheriff interrogated him. “Come on, tell the truth. You just couldn’t keep out of it, could you? You had to come in here and get in their faces.”

Benjamin shrugged again. “You’re right. I did.”

The sheriff sniffed in annoyance. “I thought so. You look terrible. You look even worse than you did the other day at your place. You look like they’ve had another crack at your wooden head. Well, you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“No, I won’t say that,” Benjamin mumbled.

“Is Annie with them?” the sheriff softened his tone slightly. “Did you see her?”

Benjamin nodded. “Far as I can tell, she’s okay. She tried to run off. Two nights ago, I guess it was. I snuck in here and showed myself to her, and she ran. I meant to meet her over by the creek, but we missed each other, and then when we met up in the dark, we got separated. They found her and took her back. I reckon they’re
makin’ her cook for ‘em. From the way she was goin’ in and out, fetchin’ water, and the smoke comin’ out of the chimney, I guess that’s what they’re keepin’ her for. Didn’t see as she was hurt any, and she ran okay when she did get away.”

“That’s good,” the sheriff confirmed. “What else can you tell me about ‘
em?”

“Not a lot,” Benjamin returned. “They’re father and son, like you told me, but I can’t tell you anything else.
Looks to me like they went north.”

The sheriff scowled. “What do you mean? How could they go north? There’s no trail.”

“Well, look at the tracks,” Benjamin pointed toward the ground in the direction he indicated. “If they didn’t go north, there’s no reason for all those tracks goin’ up the valley. If they went south, there should be no tracks goin’ that way at all. How else can you explain it?”

“Well, I just don’t believe they went north,” the sheriff bristled. “That makes no sense at all.”

“Unless their hideout is in the mountains somewhere,” Benjamin explained.

The sheriff
tossed his head. “They could’ve gone back toward Eckville. There’s more farms and houses that way for them to raid.”

“That’s assuming they’re looking for farms and houses to raid,” Benjamin contradicted. “If they aren’t, if they’re making a run for their hiding place, then they have no reason to go south at all.”

“Don’t tell me you plan to go after them again,” the sheriff exclaimed. “Not after you just had another run-in with ‘em. You’re nuts. You belong in an asylum. From the look of you, you should be heading down to Patterson to see a doctor.”

“I thought of that,” Benjamin
agreed. “But I just can’t turn back now. Not with Annie out there unprotected. I’m the only one who’ll go and rescue her.”

“You’re not the only one,” Christopher argued. “My men and I’ll go after her and bring her back.”

“You hope you will, you mean,” Benjamin retorted. “But you won’t go after them now, when their direction is written plain as day in front of you. Besides, if anyone is going to follow them, they should do it now, while the trail is fresh, before the weather wipes it out completely.”

“Maybe
,” the sheriff conceded. “But I can’t go that way now. I have to go back and make sure they didn’t head toward Eckville.”

“Well, then, that leaves me,” Benjamin concluded. “I’ll go north now.”

The sheriff squinted at him. “What’s got into you, Moran? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this before. You’re like a mad dog, or somethin’. If I didn’t know you any better, I’d say you weren’t thinkin’ clearly, but you seem to be making some sense that I can’t argue with. I just don’t understand it.”

Benjamin glanced sidelong at the sheriff. “Are you a believing man, Sheriff?”

Martin Christopher jerked his head up sharply. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

Benjamin
stiffened his shoulders to continue. “I’m just askin’. Do you believe in God and Jesus and all that sort of thing? Just tell me.”

“Alright,” the sheriff conceded. “Yes, I do. There. I said it. Now you tell me what that has got to do with anything?”

Benjamin shook his head and looked down at the ground. “You already think I’m crazy, but the only thing I can tell you is that God seems to be leading me toward Annie. I can’t explain it any other way.”

“What are you
sayin’?” the sheriff snorted. “Are you seriously standing there telling me that you’re on some sort of mission from God? That’s about the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“I told you so,” Benjamin rejoined. “But from what I’ve seen, I feel like I’m being guided and led to find her and bring her back. That’s all I can tell you.”

“What have you seen that makes you think that?” the sheriff insisted. “Have you seen signs and wonders and miracles? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Something
like that,” Benjamin muttered.

“What was it?” the sheriff repeated. “If you want me to understand what you’re
talking about, you better tell me.”

“Well, for a start,” Benjamin began, “when I opened my eyes this
mornin’, I prayed that I would be able to save Annie, and just after that I found my horse waiting for me with all my guns still tied on. I thought they took him with them, but there he was. Then, when I mounted up, the horse brought me back here, to this yard, and practically showed me those tracks there, leading away like a big highway. Only a blind man could fail to follow that trail. If that isn’t leading me onward, then I don’t know what is.”

“Well, that was your horse leading you, not God,” the sheriff mocked.

“That’s true,” Benjamin returned. “But then—you’re gonna say this is the craziest part—there’s this voice inside my head that keeps talking to me and telling me God is taking care of me and Annie and that He will bring us back together. I know it’s nuts. You don’t have to tell me that. I’ve been hearing this voice ever since I left home, and it’s been counseling me and encouraging me every step of the way. I believe, more than I’ve ever believed anything else in my life, that God is with me and taking care of me and taking me where I need to go. That’s the best I can explain it. If you don’t understand that, then I don’t know what to tell you. And if you really think it’s that crazy, then you better arrest me and lock me up right now. If I’m wrong about all this, then I’m better off dead without her.”

“Well, I understand the last part,” Sheriff Christopher
told him. “As for the rest of it, I’ll leave that to you. I won’t say I don’t understand what you’re talking about. I may have had some experience like that myself at some time in my life. I’m the last man in the world to come between any person and his God. If you want to follow God, then I won’t try to stop you.”

“That’s good,” Benjamin replied evenly, “because I won’t be turned back. As long as I’m alive, and I know Annie’s alive, I’ll keep
tryin’ to get to her.”