Stavewood (Stavewood Saga Book 1) (8 page)

      As the afternoon shifted towards dusk he heard voices down the mountain and brought the horse around to a thicket and listened. The relief from recognition of the friendly conversation spurred him to a brisk gallop in the direction of the party ascending the hill below his position.

      “Timothy?” the men called, pulling their horses around and watching Elgerson rush through the brush towards them. Deftly guiding the horse downward through the tangle of roots they waited for the big man, his mass of golden hair flying behind him as he bent over his driving beast.

      “Evens is up past the gorge near the old burial ground with a bullet in his thigh. I couldn’t move him alone and I left him in a tourniquet. He’s in a bad way. I’m going to need to get him down as quickly as possible. It doesn’t look good.” His last remark was directed to the sheriff.

      “We’ll take care of him, Tim,” the lawman replied. “What happened? There’s nothing going on in town, but it looks as though someone doubled back towards the north and we lost their trail about halfway up.”

      “My boy’s staying up at the cabin,” Elgerson panted.

      “We never got up that far, Tim.” Sheriff Carson could not conceal his concern. “We’ll take care of finding Evens. You can check on your boy.”

    “Go ahead, Tim,” Vancouver remarked in a tone too discouraging to ignore.

     Elgerson turned his mount and faced the men. He knew it was likely that Nils had lost consciousness by now. If he couldn’t respond to the men when they called out for him they might never find him. He led the men of the posse up the mountainside toward the old cemetery, hoping to find Evens still alive and vowing to return to his son as quickly as possible.

Chapter Twelve

   
 
T
imothy Elgerson rode desperately towards the cabin, frantic with worry over the boy. He was certain that Evens would not survive the gunshot wound despite the fact that they had finally found him unconscious but alive. The man drove his exhausted mount in the most direct route possible through the thick forest.

    Had he stopped and checked the boy when the opportunity arose he knew that the lad would have joined their pursuit. With the boy’s skill with a rifle, things might have gone differently. Evens might never have been shot and he would not be running to save the boy from a similar fate. A million possibilities raced through the man’s mind.

      Elgerson’s head pounded from exhaustion and he had the look of a demon as he rode frantically, insane with worry and the stress of the previous week’s events. His knuckles white and tearing into the reins, he kicked the foam covered animal beneath him. He rode on for hours, giving himself and the huge black Arabian no reprieve from his single-minded mission.

      When he reached the ridge below the cabin he pulled the animal to a sudden halt, hunkered down low against the horse’s back and circled a small clearing while he and the exhausted stallion tried to regulate their breathing. The Arabian was coughing hard and Timothy stroked the tortured beast as calmly as he could, trying to quiet the horse’s strangled breathing. If there were someone besides the boy at the cabin, he hoped to ride up undetected until he could assess the situation. Timothy hoped vainly that perhaps Mark was alone and if all were well he would not frighten the boy. His heart was bursting from the panic and overwhelming fear for the lad, admitting to himself that losing the boy was more than he could ever bear.

      After several minutes the big horse walked quietly once again beneath him and blew softly as Timothy Elgerson quietly directed him towards the edge of the thin trail that led to the cabin less than a quarter of a mile away.

      He could make out a soft stomping approaching slowly along the trail and Elgerson turned his mount about in a tight circle, steadying the dark beast behind a vine-covered stand of rotting stumps. He sat tensely in a hunter’s stance anticipating the rider’s appearance through the trees.

      Coming into Elgerson’s view, the rider paused cautiously for a moment, revealing to Timothy that the animal headed down the trail was his own, a spirited chestnut once purchased for his wife. From the saddle hung the beaded bag that Corissa had received as a gift and had kept at the cabin filled with currency for an emergency. Elgerson’s Arabian could feel the man’s muscles tense and steadied his limbs in anticipation of the man’s attack.

      Elgerson kicked the stallion into action and the beast bounded from their hiding place clearing the stumps and bursting onto the path. The chestnut ran frantically in terror down the trail, cutting into the wood in a panic, fleeing from the unanticipated assault and attempting to upset its unfamiliar passenger. The alarmed animal sprinted through the trees, its inexperienced passenger clinging cruelly to the mare’s neck in horror.

      Elgerson’s stallion kept pace with the terrified chestnut nipping sharply at her rump and bounding forward to overtake the horrified mare.

      Rebecca clung to the horse tightly, certain that if she lost hold of the chestnut she would fall to her death and be trampled.

      “They’ve found me and they’ll take me back to the shack and kill me this time!” she gasped in horror. Outpacing her pursuer while still remaining on the horse seemed her only hope for escape. The horror-struck girl leaned forward against the animal’s rigid neck and the chestnut lunged forward.

      Elgerson urged his Arabian ahead, pulled alongside of the thief and leapt from the stallion onto the mare, unseating the fleeing girl. The two riders tumbled violently to the rugged forest floor with Elgerson’s steel grip encircling his prey.

      Rebecca fought her attacker with every bit of her strength, writhing and kicking in panic and fear.

      Elgerson struggled to maintain his hold on the terrified prisoner, caught tight in his mighty grip and fighting like a wild animal. Pinning his captive beneath him, he pressed the thief to the earth, straddling both legs and pushing both shoulders hard to the ground.

      Rebecca thrashed fiercely and, as Elgerson raised his fist to silence her, she let out a shrill “Pleeeeeeeaaaaase!”

      Her petite face and her tiny frame beneath him made Timothy Elgerson stop abruptly in mid-swing. In confusion he studied his captive quickly and restrained himself from bludgeoning his victim.

      A woman? None of this made sense.

      “Who are you?” he demanded loudly.

      Rebecca wailed and pleaded, but Elgerson held fast.

      “Who the hell are you?” he persisted.

      Realizing that this attacker was one she had not encountered before, Rebecca began to plead with the man to unhand her.

      “If you and your gang of thieves have done anything to my son I swear I’ll kill you all!” Elgerson blared into the girl’s face.

      “I’ve done nothing!” Rebecca fought. “Get off of me right now!”

      “We’ll see about that!” Elgerson bellowed, rising to his feet and hauling his tiny victim up with him. He whistled for the stallion and Rebecca bit into the man’s hand solidly.

      “Stop!” the big man commanded, tearing Rebecca’s sleeve. “You’re coming with me!”

      “I will not!” Rebecca kicked the man squarely between his cast-iron thighs.

      Elgerson lost his grip on the girl as his legs began to buckle beneath him and he was overtaken with retching nausea.

      Rebecca pulled free, scrambling to her feet and running towards the man’s steed. The Arabian towered over her and she struggled in a panic as she tried to pull herself onto the animal’s back. The agitated beast stepped aside and Rebecca fell flat to the ground.

      “Oh no you don’t!” Elgerson grabbed her by the collar and, standing bent beside her, held her clear of the ground and himself.

      “Let me go!”

      “No, now stop! You’re coming with me now!” Elgerson glowered into the girl’s face threatening.

      “I will not!” Rebecca spat.

      Elgerson staggered upright uneasily and called the horse. The animal paced nervously until Elgerson snapped a command and then cautiously approached his master.

      Holding Rebecca firmly by her slender waist he threw her over the large leather saddle and mounted behind her. Rebecca tried to shift her weight to her legs in an attempt to slide from the huge black beast and the big man grabbed her pants roughly, slapped her on the backside, and set her firmly across the saddle.

      “If you don’t stop I’ll tie you up!” he threatened huskily.

      The girl squirmed in pain and indignation.

      Elgerson kicked the horse to a gallop with Rebecca clinging terrified to the jostling saddle, Elgerson holding her fast by her waistband.

      When they reached the clearing at the cabin Rebecca lifted her head as the horse slowed and began to scream in warning to Mark. Elgerson dismounted, hauled the girl from the horse and tried to drag her into the cabin.

      Rebecca twisted in his grip and reached out to claw at his face, catching a handful of his hair and pulling it viciously. Elgerson reached up and captured her wrist in a vice-like grip and Rebecca twisted to free herself.

      Mark ran towards the cabin, bursting from the forest to witness the violent struggle. Rebecca and his father fought like animals, the girl kicking and screaming while his father struggled in an attempt to contain the girl.

      “Pa!” he shouted as he ran towards them. “Stop!”

      “Run, Mark! He’s going to kill us both! Run!” Rebecca screamed shrilly.

      “Mark!” Elgerson exclaimed. “Thank God you’re alright! I caught this thief riding down the…” Elgerson’s voice trailed off in confusion.

      “She’s not a thief, Pa!” Mark ran to the girl’s side.

      Rebecca fell to the ground and sobbed uncontrollably as Elgerson loosened his grip and hung his head as he dropped to his knees.

      “What the hell is going on here?” he raised his flushed face and barked at his son.

      Rebecca’s incessant sobbing made explanations impossible and Elgerson finally instructed the boy to take the exasperating female into the cabin and hush her up since it was clear that the boy knew the crazed girl.

      “She’s not a thief, Pa. I found her,” the boy called back, leading Rebecca into the doorway.

      Mark settled her into the bed, as he had the day he first discovered her and Rebecca curled into a tiny ball and wept quietly. When he returned he found his father beside the fireplace with his head in his hands, exhaustion clearly displayed in his demeanor.

      The boy silently set about preparing coffee for the depleted man, deciding to wait for his father to question him before venturing any explanations.

      Timothy Elgerson sat running his hands through his hair and pulling at his bearded chin until the boy filled the man’s big hands with a steaming cup of coffee.

      Elgerson peered at the boy curiously and took a swig of the dark fluid.

      Mark appeared contrite as he stood before his father wishing the man would say something. He didn’t even care any longer what he might face as long as the man spoke.

      “Alright,” Elgerson finally announced. “You want to explain to me what that wildcat was doing on your Mother’s horse running off with our money?”

      Mark pulled around a chair to face his angered father and began to relate the events surrounding his discovery of Rebecca, even venturing to confess why he had gone into the woods to begin with.

      Elgerson studied his son carefully, barely able to believe the boy’s description, except that the facts were too amazing for even the most vivid child’s imagination. He knew that the boy might select omission on occasion, but rarely made up a story to avoid ramifications. He wondered about the shack the boy talked about and speculated to himself that maybe the robbers had constructed a hideout not too far away.

      However implausible the story might be, Elgerson had to admit the boy had to have been seriously tested caring for the gravely injured girl and he listened to the boy’s story intently.

      When Mark concluded his tale he finished with a serious look directly into his father’s tortured face.

      “I’m sorry, Pa. I know I’m not supposed to have anyone else up here while you’re away and I swear I’ll never trap again. I just didn’t know what else to do with her and she was so hurt and I guess it just kinda happened. Then I couldn’t keep her up here for too much longer and I didn’t know when you’d be back.” Mark cut himself short, careful not to shift the blame onto his father’s late arrival.

      “It’s alright,” Elgerson told the boy. “There was some trouble with the train. I’ll explain it all to you later.”

      Relieved that his father showed no sign of the outburst he had convinced himself he would, and hoping to head off any possibility that he might still be upset, Mark attempted to distract him with questions about the train.

      “Not right now, boy, I haven’t slept in days. After I get some rest we’ll talk some more. You have seen no one else?”

      “No, sir,” the boy replied.

      Elgerson struggled wearily to his feet and made his way towards the sleeping quarters.

      “Pa…” The boy was certain he’d forgotten the sleeping woman occupied the bedroom.

      Elgerson stood in the doorway, took one look at the girl’s tiny, curled up figure and thought better of tangling with her again. He left the cabin to find rest in the stable and Mark decided he had better check on the woman.

      Rebecca was covered with mud once again, and her arm was scraped and beginning to bruise in her torn sleeve.

      “I heard,” she whispered, sniffling. “Thank you.”

      Mark left her weeping in the bed and decided he was ready to try some coffee himself.