by Carol Arens
William was quicker. He swooped her up and carried her to the couch.
Laura Lee ran out of the room then came back carrying an armful of fresh towels. She knelt before Agatha, wiping her face and hands. Chafing her trembling fingers.
“What were you doing outside, Miss Agatha?” she asked.
Something was not right. Agatha could hardly walk the length of a room. What in the blazes was she doing out in the storm?
“Mrs. Brunne,” she gasped. Not Mother Brunne? He could not recall her ever referring to the nurse as Mrs. A fist grabbed hold of his innards and twisted. “She’s lured Ivy out into the storm!”
Laura Lee gasped. “I did deliver a note!”
“When?” he asked.
Poor Agatha looked like she was ready to shiver to pieces. She clung to William, her knuckles white on his arm.
“It’s all right, Agatha. Don’t be afraid,” he said, patting her hands and chaffing them at the same time. “Everything will be all right.”
He placed a quick, comforting kiss on the top of her head while he shared a sharp glance with Travis. They had both been out in the weather and knew there was something to be anxious about.
“About forty minutes ago,” Laura Lee said.
“She...she...tussled with me and gagged me...shut me in a closet out of the way of anyone.”
“Did she say anything?” William asked.
Agatha nodded her head. “She said we were going to be together forever. No one would come between us again. She means to harm Ivy—I know it!”
“How did you get out?” Laura Lee rubbed her hands.
“The closet has a transom window. I climbed on boxes and broke it.”
“Looks like you cut your finger,” Laura Lee said, then wrapped the towel around it.
Agatha shook her head. “She cut me getting me into the closet.”
Travis ran for his boots.
“I can’t believe you made it all the way down here on your own, Miss Agatha?” he heard Laura Lee say. “You are stronger and braver than anyone knew!”
He lurched into his wet jacket and slammed his Stetson on his head.
“I’m coming with you.” William reached for his coat.
“No.” He would make better time on his own, and besides—“I promise to bring Ivy back. The best way you can protect her is to stay here, to remain safe.”
William nodded. He didn’t look pleased about having to stay behind, but he would understand the need. Without him the ranch would go to ruin.
“God’s speed to you, then, Travis.”
From the looks of things going on outside, that was exactly what he would need.
Chapter Seventeen
Lightning exploded on a knoll a hundred yards in front of Ivy. Her mare pranced nervously, wanting to run for the safety of home but another blast hit the earth in that direction.
“There’s a good girl.” Leaning forward in the saddle Ivy patted the strong chestnut colored neck, felt the ripple of tension under her fingers. “We’re nearly there.”
Slowly, the lightning drifted east but the relief wouldn’t last long. Another band was approaching from the west.
In the distance, Ivy spotted the shelter house that Nurse Brunne indicated in her note.
It looked no more than a blur in the downpour and strain as she might, she could see no sign of the nurse.
She was certain this was the spot. The note had been clear...about a few things.
“I have your sister,” it read.
Ivy didn’t know for sure if it was true, but she did know that Agatha had not been in her room when she tore down the hallway like a mad woman to look. And the window had been left open to the rain. If Brunne had taken her sister, it had to have been through the window and onto the deck, otherwise someone would have noticed.
The note instructed Ivy to come alone. If she didn’t, the price would be tragic.
She had no option but to believe it. Even though Brunne might love Agatha in some bedeviled way, she was possessive when it came to her.
Just there! Ivy spotted a figure holding an umbrella.
Hilda Brunne stepped away from a tree a short distance from the stone building.
The nurse’s horse whinnied from where it was tethered behind the tree. The poor thing sounded scared. Ivy’s mare reacted to the call with an agitated sidestep.
“It’s all right.” Ivy crooned to her mount, but the mare was not comforted. And why would she be? “I’ll get off and lead you.”
“Gull-durned lunatic.” Ivy stared at Hilda while she towed her mount through the mud and lashing rain.
Taking shelter under the tree was not wise. Ivy stopped several yards from the drip line. Even so, she was too close.
“Come nearer and we’ll talk,” Brunne shouted.
“Where’s my sister?”
“I’m sure you would like to know.”
“You’d best come out from under that tree if you have something to say, Mrs. Brunne. I’m not standing under it.”
“The rain’s not as bad under here.”
“I’m already wet.” Blazin’ days if she was going to be skewered by lightning, too.
“Such a prissy little miss.” Brunne stomped out from under the tree.
Ivy led her horse twenty feet farther away. Rain hit the ground so hard it sounded like pennies being dropped on a wood floor.
Brunne cowered under the umbrella, letting out a screech.
“Where is Agatha?” Ivy had to shout above the noise.
“She’s safe in the stone house, come and see. The three of us can have a nice, cozy chat.”
Ivy’s scalp prickled. The fine hairs on her neck stood up. Even the threat of lightning hadn’t made that happen.
She couldn’t go into the shed even if Agatha was in there. Clearly, Brunne meant to entrap her. The means to do it would be Agatha.
“Better say what you mean to before we both burn.”
“You dying is what this is all about. I’m finished with your interference. I want you out of my way.”
“I’m not getting out of your way.”
The woman really was insane! Didn’t she understand that whatever danger she put Ivy in out here, she faced as well?
“Maybe not by choice.” Brunne tried to control the umbrella, but it tugged at her double-fisted grip. “But I’ll make sure you don’t take Maggie and Bethy away from me again. You won’t leave me to die this time.”
Maggie! Who was Bethy?
“I don’t know who they are, Hilda. I only want to take my sister home where she’ll be safe.”
“That’s what you said last time, Harvey...when I found my way home, you and my babies were gone. You thought that storm you abandoned me in would be the death of me, but it wasn’t.”
“I didn’t take your babies!” The lightning that had been approaching from the west slid closer by the minute. It was almost like she could feel it shaking the ground. “I’m not Harvey. Look at me! I’m Ivy.”
“Ivy!” Brunne swiped the water from her face with her sleeve. “I know who you are—you want to take my Maggie—no, no, my Agatha. I’ll kill myself and her before I’ll let you have her again.”
“What happened to your babies, Hilda?” Maybe if Ivy seemed sympathetic, Hilda’s sanity would return long enough for her to let Agatha go. “Was Harvey your husband? Taking your babies was a horrible thing.”
“I never knew what happened to them until I found them here...no, not them. Ivy and Agatha.” Wind yanked the umbrella from Hilda’s hand, sent it sailing for a good distance before the tip lodged in the mud. “Then Ivy’s mother took her away!”
“I’m Ivy. I’m home again!”
Hilda looked confused; she shook her head.
“I think we might drown, but this time we will be together.”
Apparently Hilda’s mind was shattered to the point where she could not tell now from then, or her babies from Mollie Clover Magee’s.
Judging by the way the ground vibrated, the band of lightning was closing in faster than she thought. From behind the tree, Brunne’s horse shrieked.
“I’m not Bethy, I’m Ivy. Look at me, Hilda. I’m Ivy.”
“Of course you are, come back after all these years to make my girl healthy so she won’t need me anymore.”
Could lightning really make the ground vibrate that way?
“Bring Agatha out. Let me see that she’s safe. I’ll go away. You can have her all to yourself again.”
“Do you think I’m stupid?”
It sure wasn’t easy trying to outwit a person whose wits were gone.
Ivy’s patience was run out—and so was time. She could hear the frizzle of lightning bolts, smell the sulfur when they stabbed the ground.
They needed to be away from here.
“Go back to the ranch house—go get your babies from Harvey before he sells them again. I’m taking Agatha!”
Wind blew her words sideways, but Brunne heard.
“Oh, my dearie, you think I’m insane.”
“It’s not insane to want your children. Go get them. They’ve been crying for you.”
“I suppose my own babies are long dead. But, Agatha isn’t. Do you think I would risk bringing her out in this weather? Her room is where she belongs, not out walking in the sunshine, dancing with a man who probably will dump her in the river. Your sister is safely locked in a closet.”
It could be that Agatha was at home. Or she could be in the shed. It was hard to know with the way Brunne’s mind wobbled between the present and the past.
Ivy turned toward her horse. She reached in her saddle pack for the ax she’d snatched while saddling up.
Her hand shook. It was one thing to bring a weapon but another thing to actually use it. Her intent had been to threaten only. The horse bumped her, knocking the ax from her fingers and into the mud.
She scrambled for it while Brunne slogged toward her.
Something was wrong, something more than rain, lightning and a provoked madwoman who had drawn a bag from her pocket and started swinging it over her head. It was lumpy and heavy looking.
Lunging, Hilda slammed the bag at the horse’s flank. Ivy heard the clank of stones. The mare screeched then ran.
The ax was too slippery to grasp. It slid away and disappeared into the muck.
Brunne latched on to her arm, whacked Ivy’s head with the stones. Stunned, she fell face first into the mud.
Jumping upon her, Brunne pummeled her again with the bag. Ivy rolled, shoved her off.
Kneeling in the mud, she couldn’t catch her breath.
The earth under Ivy’s hands trembled.
Brunne’s head snapped up. She stared at something, past Ivy’s shoulder. Her mouth opened in a scream but whatever horror she was looking at closed her throat.
Trying to rise, the nurse slipped. Her hands and feet scrambled for purchase. She shoved Ivy backward, stomped on her belly seeking something solid to push off from.
Gaining her feet, Brunne sloughed through the mud toward her horse.
Ivy pushed to her knees, swiped the mud from her eyes. Spinning about, she saw it.
A wall of cattle, caught up in a stampede. They would not miss her.
She couldn’t move, couldn’t blink. Not until Brunne’s horse screamed, panicked and terrified.
The woman yanked the reins, trying to hold the horse still so she could mount. Her boot slipped in the stirrup, twisted and caught. She slammed down on her back.
“Don’t struggle!” Ivy pushed to her feet, stumbled toward her cursing, screaming adversary. “You’ll spook the horse even more!”
The frightened animal was the only way of escape—for both of them.
Brunne slapped at the prancing hooves. Terrified, the horse reared. It galloped away, dragging her, bouncing and jerking over muddy ground.
Ivy took a few steps toward the shelter house. It was too far away. She would never be able to outrun the herd in order to get to it.
Still, running was her only choice. Gull-durned if she was going to stand here cussing while cows crushed her.
The one and only thing to do was hightail it across open land and hope the cattle changed course.
Something snagged her toe and nearly took her down.
The dad-gummed umbrella! She plucked it out of the muck. Wasn’t much of a weapon, but if she waved the mangled thing wildly, it might encourage a beast or two to turn aside.
Step by sucking step she plucked her feet out of the mud. Too bad the muck didn’t slow down the herd.
Sodden skirts dragged her down. Her clothes weighed twenty pounds more than they ought to. Images of women tumbling off the River Queen’s plank flashed in her mind.
If she had to do it over again, she wouldn’t be so judgmental.
Too bad she’d set off in such an all-fired hurry and not taken the time to change out of her fancy engagement gown into something that was not about to kill her.
Moments ago, she’d felt the ground shuddering. Now she heard the snorts of the beasts, smelled their damp hides.
* * *
Travis had been pushing his horse hard, but drew it to a halt at the top of a rise.
He felt the stallion quiver. He doubted that it was caused by the harsh weather.
The animal was too well trained to be spooked by a storm, no matter that this one was more severe than most.
More likely it was caused by a stampede. He strained his ears to listen over the smack of rain, the yowl of wind across open land.
He couldn’t hear anything, but still, he trusted that the horse knew better.
Slipping out of the saddle he knelt on the ground, felt the faint rumble, as though an unseen train was plowing across open range.
He didn’t know where Ivy was, but he knew where she should not be.
“Let’s go, boy,” he said while mounting.
Coming over the next rise, he nearly lost his breakfast.
“Ivy!” he shouted, even knowing she would not hear him, that his yell would not help her.
The herd could not be more than a hundred yards away...now seventy-five.
She could not hope to outrun them, but she was trying.
He raced his horse down the slope, toward the approaching carnage.
He watched Ivy stop, turn, then wave an umbrella.
“No, Ivy! No!”
All of a sudden, she rushed the herd. She wouldn’t know that the stampede was mindless, it would not notice one small woman brandishing an umbrella.
He was too far away. Even if the horse sprouted wings, he could not reach her in time.
All at once lightning struck between Ivy and the herd. The animals channeled to the left and looked as though they might go around her.
She ran, stumbled, ran again.
Leaning low over the horse, he gave it lead to run flat out.
He was within shouting distance when the herd turned again, back toward Ivy.
He could smell the beeves now. The scent of fear lay upon them, overcoming any other instinct they might have.
Damn! He needed thirty more seconds to scoop her up and get her out of harm’s way.
No matter how he cursed, those seconds were not coming. The poor horse was already pushing his limit.
When the cattle were nearly upon her, Ivy turned her back on them, went down on her knees.
Her eyes locked on his; she reached for him then covered her head and drew her body into a ball.
Racing forward,
he plucked his rifle from the saddle sheath. The odds of bringing down enough cattle to create a barrier were slim. All he could do was pray...and fire his gun.
By the time he reached Ivy, he’d brought down one steer. Not enough.
He slipped off the horse, slapped it to let it know that it should run. No need for all three of them to die.
Standing over Ivy, his legs braced on each side of her curled-up body, he continued to shoot.
The steer that would crush them barreled forward, not even aware that they were in his path.
“I love you, Ivy!” he shouted. He felt her arm curl around his leg.
Lightning hit the ground between them and the steer. He felt the frizzle of electricity move through his body. The explosion of thunder brought him to his knees. He draped his body over Ivy’s hunched form.
The herd split in two, going wide around them. Thousands of hooves pounding the earth made a terrible sound that he felt in his bones.
It was only a couple of minutes before the herd moved on but he’d never felt seconds that lasted longer.
At last the rumble in the earth faded. The herd would run on without knowing why then eventually slow and stop.
“Thank you, God, thank you,” he murmured.
Ivy wriggled out from under him then slammed against his chest in a choking hug.
“Are we still on this side of the m-m-mortal coil?” she gasped.
“As far as I can tell.” He ran his hands over her, feeling for injury. “Where’s Brunne?”
Ivy shook her head.
“On the other side, maybe.” Her voice trembled as hard as her body did. “She got...her foot stuck...and the horse—”
She paused, took several breaths but the shaking didn’t quit. “I tried to...but...”
“Hush, now,” he crooned.
Wrapping her up, he rubbed her back and arms to try and stop the shivering, but the chill went deeper than cold, deeper than his ability to warm her.
He whistled for his horse, hoping his well-trained friend hadn’t gone too far.
Ivy nodded toward the shelter house in the distance.
“I have a better place in mind. It’s not far.”
At least it wouldn’t be if the horse came back.
