Chapter 161
The man ignored Emily, which probably was a good thing. He'd been known to break a stick over Ant's bottom and legs for the slightest infringement of his rules.
Emily had been so anxious to escape the brute that she'd married a man just like him. Although it had taken several years for the darkness to surface in Lewis, surely there'd been shadows that Emily should have recognized while the man was courting her.
But this isn't about Emily. The chiding voice brought him to his present predicament.
"What have I done?" He'd been unreasonable and cruel, just like his stepfather. He'd turned into a bully like him. Ant groaned. What an idiot I've been. The man's been dead for ten years, and I was his parrot instead of being myself--a man of reason and moderate pa.s.sions. Well, except for a certain woman.
I've hurt the two people I care about most, perhaps damaging my relations.h.i.+p with them beyond repair. All because of a man I hated, yet became. Harriet was right to call me an oaf, and worse.
Still carrying the dog, he leaped off the porch.
I need to fix what I've damaged, explain. Ask for forgiveness.
The pup squirmed, and he squeezed his arms tighter so he wouldn't drop the dog.
Will Harriet understand?
I'll find a way to make her. I just have to reach her before she becomes dead set against me.
He hurried to the barn and handed over the dog to Pepe. "Keep her with you."
Pepe stood, grabbed the dog, and sat back down on the straw bale, stroking the puppy to calm her.
Ant clapped his hand to his hip and realized he'd left his gunbelt in the house. In his eagerness to catch up with Harriet, he almost continued after her. But a ration of common sense made him turn back for his gun. He wasn't about to let his sidewinder of a brother-in-law catch him unarmed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE.
Fear propelled David away from the house, past the barn and toward the trees shading the stream. I can hide there.
Once he reached the shelter of the trees, he ran upstream, leaping over rocks and das.h.i.+ng around trees until the constriction in his lungs and the ache in his side forced him to a walk. Gasping for air, he searched his surroundings for a hiding place.
Seeing an oak with a hollowed out trunk, he crouched down and used a nearby branch to poke around the interior. When no critter charged out, he crawled inside, drawing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around his legs.
There, he sat panting, mindless. His breath had eased long before David felt his awareness return. He replayed the scene with his uncle and Miss Stanton and started s.h.i.+vering at the enraged look on his uncle's face and the angry sound of his voice.
I left Miss Stanton alone with him.
Shame coursed through him.
Uncle Ant could have beaten her. Killed her. And Miss Stanton was littler than his mother. David pictured her lying in a pool of blood like....
The memory tore aside the curtain of the past, ripping through the gray fog of forgetfulness he'd cloaked around his mother. He saw his pa, staggering drunk, with a knife in his hand and an evil look on his face. "You think you're leaving me," Pa had yelled at his mother. "You'll never leave."
David had dodged behind a wingchair in the corner of the parlor, crouching until he was out of sight. He'd peered around the side, watching.
Pa had grabbed his mother. She'd screamed and fought him, trying to break away. But he'd held on tight and slashed the knife across her throat.
Blood spurted from her neck. She made a horrible gurgling noise. Pa let go of her. She dropped to the ground like a red-stained rag doll.
David had wailed at the sight, but he hadn't let the noise out for fear Pa would hear him. But the sound had exploded in his mind.
Then Pa had kicked her in the side, cursed her. Finally, he'd turned and staggered up the stairs.
David had listened for his footsteps to die away. He crept out from behind the chair and tiptoed over to his mother. She lay motionless on the wooden floor, blood pooling around her.
He'd stooped to touch her cheek. The coppery smell of her blood filled his nostrils.
"Mother, Mother," he whispered, trying to get her to turn and look at him. But she'd stared wide-eyed at the ceiling, an empty look in her brown eyes. He began to shake.
David was so engrossed with his mother that he didn't hear his pa come back into the room. A heavy hand dropped on his shoulder, shooting him out of his boots. "You come with me, boy. We're leaving."
Pa jerked David around to face him. With one hand on his shoulder, he shook his finger in David's face, his blue eyes so icy, they froze him in place. "Don't you ever say a word about this to anyone, you hear? You even think about talking, and I'll pull out your tongue and cut it off." He gave David a shake for emphasis that almost knocked him over.
The wail David had held inside for two years boiled out. The sound filled the hollow of the tree, vibrating around him. An invisible cord tight around his chest released, and he screamed and screamed. The noise amplified by the trunk made his ears ring. The tree seemed to wrap its essence around him, comforting him at that same time as it drew out the pain. "Mother, Mother, Mother!"
He sobbed, crying out some of the tears he'd stored up over the pain-filled past. When the sobs eased, leaving him snot-nosed and wet-faced, he sniffed and wiped his sleeve across his face. Although he felt ashamed about blubbering like a baby, he felt better than he had in a long time. Cleansed was the word that came to his mind from something Reverend Norton
David relaxed against the tree, limp and almost dosing. Then he remembered Miss Stanton, left alone with his angry uncle, and jerked awake. He shot up so fast he b.u.mped his head on the top of the hollow.
David scrambled out of the oak and ran downstream. He leaped over a fallen log, dodged around a tangle of willow. Just past the trees, a pair of hands reached out and grabbed him. David yelped.
"Got ya, boy." At the sound of the raspy voice and the familiar stench of whiskey, David went limp like a dead rabbit, the reaction he'd always had to his pa's abuse.
"Thought ya could git away from me, ah?" His pa leered at him. "Well I don't want ya either. But I got some use for ya."
David's terror of his father wiped his fears of Uncle Ant from his mind, and he could only long for his uncle's protection. Uncle Ant, save me!
Pa fingered the b.u.t.t of the gun tucked into his pants. "Then again, I could always kill your interfering uncle, take that pretty little lady of his for a ride, and then kill her too. What do you think about that, boy?"
David could only stare into his pa's cold, reddened eyes in his puffy face, feeling his limbs freeze.
"You'll be good for something, alright." He pointed at Old Blue, munching on some gra.s.s. "Now git on that mule!"
Harriet reached a stand of cottonwoods and ran on, searching. The impact of Ant's revelation burned through her body. All this time she'd thought her feelings for Nick had been secret, but to learn they'd been common knowledge.... Have people been gossiping about me? Laughing at me? She hurried downstream along the path, her face hot from embarra.s.sment, her stomach tight and sick with shame.
She wished she could stop and sink into the bark of one of the giant cottonwoods, like the dryad she'd fancied David to be, leaving her shame behind. Inside the tree, no one would find me. I'd be safe. Protected from the world, from the shame I'll feel each time I go into company--wondering what people are thinking. But Harriet couldn't stop and hide. She had to find David. Rea.s.sure him before he retreated back into silence.
The shadows lengthened. She slowed to peer behind trees and under bushes. Yet as Harriet searched, images tumbled through her mind. She remembered remarks and looks she'd ignored, like Samantha's look of pity and understanding when Harriet needed to flee from the news of Elizabeth's pregnancy...Mrs. Cobb's insistence on her attending the Sanders' moving party. She wanted to punish me. In retrospect, she could think of dozens of remarks and knowing glances that had hinted of people's knowledge of her infatuation.
Panting, she rested against an elm, scanning ahead. I'll have to leave this town. Find another place to teach where n.o.body knows me.
That decision brought relief. She could start all over with a clean slate. Focusing on the decision, Harriet refused to let herself mourn the loss of Sweet.w.a.ter Springs...of students and friends...of Ant and David. Not now. Time for grieving later.
Now she had to find David. Where is he?
Confident she'd find him near the pool, she straightened away from the tree and traipsed downstream, the gurgle of the water over stones guiding her.
Harriet reached the clearing by the pool with a sense of relief. So strong was her expectation of finding David here that she had to blink several times before she realized he wasn't.
"David," she called. "David, where are you?" She peeked behind some trees and parted the branches of some bushes. "David, come out. It's all right. Your uncle won't hurt you."
Once she'd searched the clearing without finding him, Harriet continued downstream. But the farther she moved, the more she became convinced she was going the wrong way. Finally, she decided to follow her intuition and turned, heading upstream.
A sense of urgency made her increase her pace. She pa.s.sed the place where she'd started and kept on going, scanning the surroundings, and her ears p.r.i.c.ked for any sound from David. She'd made so much progress with him. He'd just begun to talk. "Please, G.o.d. Let him keep talking. Let him be able to make a joyful noise to you," she whispered.
In an answer to her prayer, a distant yelp cut through the air.
David. Her heart leapt into her throat. She spied a large stick on the ground and scooped it up. Then she gathered her skirts with her other hand and began to run. But she hadn't gone far when she had to stop and gasp for breath. The tight corset constrained her from going farther, and Harriet feared she'd pa.s.s out. I knew I should have burned this corset!
As soon as she caught her breath, Harriet picked up her pace, but didn't break into a run. It wouldn't do David any good for her to keel over before she reached him. She listened for more wails but didn't hear anything. Surely if something was wrong, he'd yell for help?
She rounded a tree and saw David seated on a mule, his body stiff. His father stood next to him, squeezing the boy's leg in a painful grip. He wore a stick tied around one leg. Without stopping to think, Harriet sprinted toward them, brandis.h.i.+ng the branch.
Lewis saw her and shot her a predatory grin that would have sent chills down her spine if she wasn't so focused on rescuing David.
"Let him go," she yelled, banged the branch on the man's arm.
Lewis lost his grin and snarled at her. Letting go of David, he reached for his gun.
David came to life, flailing and kicking. One elbow caught Lewis in the ribs while at the same time, the heel of his boot connected with Old Blue's sides. The mule brayed and laid back his ears, s.h.i.+fting his weight into Lewis, knocking the man off balance onto his bad leg.
I have to keep his hand away from his gun. Harriet whacked Lewis again. While, the man was unsettled by the mule and his struggling son, she reached up and yanked David off the mule. Then she kicked Lewis in the knee of his bad leg.
The man let out a string of curses. "You'll pay for that!" He made a grab for the boy, but missed.
David landed in a heap on the ground but jumped to his feet, his eyes bright with unshed tears.
"Run for your uncle," Harriet ordered, not taking her gaze off Lewis.
"But," David croaked.
"Run!"
David took off.
Harriet shoved the end of the stick into Lewis' side.
The man let out an expletive and grabbed the wood, jerking her toward him. He stank of body odor and whiskey. He caught her hair, giving it a nasty pull to bring her face closer to him.
Tears came to her eyes, but Harriet refused to cry out. She fisted her hand and thumped it against his thigh.
He cursed and backhanded her across the face.
Agony knifed through her, and she couldn't breathe. Her knees buckled from pain, but his grip on her hair kept her tied to him. Thousands of needles stabbed into her scalp, making her want to scream. She bit her lip to hold it in.
He relaxed his hold on her hair, but didn't let go.
Harriet collapsed against the mule, inhaling the dusty smell of its hide.
"I have you now, girly. You fight anymore, and you'll get a fist to your face. Break that pretty nose of yours and lay you out. Makes no difference to me whether you're conscious or not. Pleasure is pleasure."
"Ant will kill you," she ground out.
He slapped her face again. Her head snapped to the side. For a moment, the light dimmed. A ringing in her ear deafened her.
"Thanks for the reminder, girly. Guess I don't have time to pleasure myself after all." He reached for his gun. "Too bad for you."
Ant hurried to the river, urgency spurring him onward. Reaching the water, he realized he didn't know which way to head. He'd just chosen downstream when he heard the sound of yelling, which settled the question. Turning, Ant drew his gun, moving through the trees as quickly and silently as he could.
David burst out of a stand of willows, panic on his face.
Ant dropped the Colt into the holster and reached out to catch him.
"Uncle Ant," the boy gasped out. "Pa's got Miss Stanton."
"You're talking." Ant gave him a quick hug. "Go get Pepe. Then saddle Star and ride to town for help." He released him.
David pelted away.
No matter what happens, he'll be safe.
But Harriet!
Although Ant wanted to race to Harriet's aid, he restrained himself, drawing his gun and creeping through the willows. It won't do to get us both killed.
Ant couldn't help some sticks crunching under his boots, but the sounds of the struggle covered up his footsteps. He parted the drooping branches to see Lewis backed against the mule, one hand fisted in Harriet's hair, the other on his gun.
Even in the fading light, he could see Harriet's face was bone-white except for a red splotch on one cheek. The coward had hit Harriet--beaten her, as he had beaten Emily.
A lightning flash of anger struck Ant, igniting an animal instinct to defend. He couldn't get a shot in without risking Harriet, so he dropped his gun into the holster and charged, barreling into Lewis before the man knew what hit him. With one hand Ant forced Lewis' gun arm up. He fisted his other hand, driving it into Lewis' stomach.
Lewis growled and released Harriet, who jumped back. But hampered by her skirts, she tripped and landed on her backside.
Lewis retaliated with an uppercut to Ant's side.
Ant grunted, absorbing the pain. He kicked Lewis in his broken leg, hard enough to knock him off his feet, while at the same time grabbing for the gun and bending it out of Lewis' fingers.