“Hold off for now. Make sure we’re all fully loaded for whatever happens next.” Best he take his own advice, too. Quickly, he reloaded the rifle and both revolvers, only taking his eyes from the scene ahead when he had to.
The shots had been intense for the first minute or so, but now they’d stopped. Occasional banging sounded inside, like a fight was taking place.
A woman’s scream sounded from inside, tightening Isaac’s nerves even more. Wesley Canton pushed off from his spot on the wall and sprinted toward the building. “I’m going in.”
Joanna snapped the action shut on her rifle. “Me too.”
“No.” He reached out to snag her arm, but she was too fast, and he stumbled forward, barely catching himself on the rock wall. “Joanna!” He tried to keep his voice low enough it would reach her but not echo all the way to the cabin.
Whether she heard or not, she didn’t stop running, rifle in one hand and skirts pulled high in the other.
His heart leapt into his throat as he watched her. He almost missed the men swarming around him, charging forward to help. Gripping his rifle, he stepped forward to follow.
Then almost went down as he put weight on his broken leg.
His frustrated grunt was impossible to hold back, but at least he didn’t say the words that tried to spring through his lips. After reaching down for his walking sticks, he fit them under his arms and swung forward.
A movement at the corner of his gaze made him stop short. Aaron still stood against the wall, his face hard as he held his rifle pressed into his shoulder. He wasn’t looking down the barrel to aim, though. Just seemed to be prepared. But for what?
To shoot one of the men from town when they came out? But he would have done that when the fellows were running toward the house. Would he turn on Rex or Bill? Lord, let him be on our side.
But Isaac couldn’t chance it. He had one of the four gang members right here. He couldn’t risk him getting away. They’d brought rope he could tie Aaron up with, but something about that didn’t sit right. With Isaac’s weak leg, it was possible Aaron could overpower him if he wanted, but that wasn’t the problem. Maybe his reticence was a lingering softness for the man who’d once been a trusted friend.
Lord, show me what to do. He waited for a feeling of direction to settle in his soul. A clear peace about tying up the man.
“And lest I should be exalted above measure through the abundance of the revelations, there was given to me a thorn in the flesh . . .” That same verse from before, except this time he had a strong inkling the thorn in the flesh referred more to his splinted leg, the frustrating injury that held him back from being the first to charge into the cabin.
Maybe he’d not conquered his pride as much as he’d thought. Forgive me, Lord. Make my motives pure. Use me as you see fit.
Shouts echoed from the cabin, spinning Isaac’s focus in that direction. A man backed out of the doorway, pistol aimed at someone inside. Camden, if he wasn’t mistaken over the distance. The fellow stepped to the side to allow the next man to exit.
A hulking frame stepped from the darkness, arms raised as he had to duck to get through the doorway.
Bill.
A thrill surged through him. The men from town must have gained the upper hand. If they all made it through this with the gang captured and the innocents safe, it would be more than a miracle.
For the first time since he’d realized who had kidnapped Joanna’s son and friend, he felt a bit of hope rising in his spirit.
TWENTY-FIVE
As two more men from town stepped through the opening, guns trained on Bill’s back, it was all Isaac could do not to whoop for joy. Thank you, Lord.
Another man exited the cabin with hands held to the side. Not raised high, but far enough from his body that he must be a captive. A begrudging captive. Isaac had never seen Rex Stanley in person, but he’d heard the man was as wily as a snake.
More wily.
From this distance, he couldn’t tell much about the man’s appearance, but the sullen attitude was clear from the set of his shoulders. When Knight prodded him with his rifle, Rex jerked away, as though he couldn’t stand to be tainted by the touch.
Everything in Isaac wanted to sprint forward. To see how Joanna and her son had fared. And Miss Hannon. Nate, too, for that matter.
Isaac glanced over at Aaron. He leaned forward, his focus clearly on the men leaving the cabin. Looking for his brother, no doubt.
Isaac turned his gaze back to the building. All of the men now marched across the clearing except one of the Canton brothers. Adam, he was pretty sure.
But none of the captives had stepped outside. Nor Joanna.
Lord, what’s wrong? His heartbeat thumped loud in his ears. Now was his time to step forward. He could feel the release in his spirit. But he had no choice but to tie Aaron.
Grabbing up the rope, he slipped his rifle strap over his shoulder and tucked the walking sticks under his arms. He limped around the end of the rock wall and headed toward Aaron. “I need to tie you up so I can help free the prisoners. I’ll make sure your brother’s not hurt.”
Aaron slid a sideways look at him, then studied the cabin once more. At last, he let out a loud breath and turned to Isaac. He lowered his rifle to lean against the rock, then extended his hands in front of him. “Mind putting them in front? This aches a good bit.” He dipped his chin toward his right shoulder, where a patch of blood the size of a man’s hand marred the shirt fabric.
Isaac nodded as he stopped in front of Aaron, then grabbed an end of the rope and made quick work of a strong knot. When he finished, he couldn’t help but look up into Aaron’s piercing gaze. “Sorry about that. Nothing personal.”
Aaron’s tight jaw dipped in a single nod.
That was all Isaac had time for. He swung forward toward the men, handing over the rope when he reached Camden. “I’ve tied up Aaron. He’s been shot in the shoulder, and I think he’s mostly on our side, so don’t be too rough with him.” He nodded toward Bill. “These two are the ones you have to watch out for.”
Camden dipped his chin in acknowledgement, his gaze and rifle barrel shifting back toward the giant of a man glaring at them. “We’ll see to ’em.”
As Isaac passed Rex, the man’s lethal gaze sent a shiver down his spine. This one was dangerous in every meaning of the word. Anger surged in his chest again.
Lord, why? It seemed so cruel for God to allow an innocent young woman to be taken by force and held captive by a ruthless man like Rex Stanley. The man walked with a strong limp, so perhaps she’d been able to defend herself. Isaac was still struggling to believe Aaron’s words about how she’d squared off in a gunfight with Bill.
Leaving Rex behind, he hobbled forward, his gaze set on the cabin. When twenty strides still separated him from the structure, a figure appeared from the darkness inside.
Nate.
The man limped from the building, then stepped aside to wait for the next person to exit.
A woman appeared in the opening, raising a hand to shield her eyes against the bright sunlight. She had to be Miss Hannon, but he didn’t remember her being so gaunt. Not much more than a skeleton with clothing draped over her.
As she lowered the hand shielding her face, he could better see how her hair sprang out in wild patches. Was that a bruise blackening her eye?
Rage boiled up inside him, but he forced himself to tamp it down as he closed the final distance between them. “Miss Hannon?”
She looked at him with eyes a hundred years old. Weary and desolate, like a wasteland with nothing left alive.
“Mr. Bowen.” Her voice was flat, and he couldn’t help but notice the way Nate stepped closer to her. Not close enough to touch, but the awareness of his presence was impossible to miss.
For now, though, he needed to focus on getting them all back to town. “Are you injured? We’ll bring the horses around for you, so rest here for now.”
His gaze slipped up to Adam Canton,
who’d stepped out behind her. The man nodded and motioned toward the ground beside the doorway. While the man helped her sit, Isaac turned his focus to Nate.
Isaac’s long-ago friend met his gaze with an intensity that spoke to the connection they’d once shared. To the lifetime that had passed since then. A glimmer of shame shone in Nate’s eyes.
Isaac was the first to extend his hand, and after a second, Nate took it. “I heard you helped Miss Hannon and Samuel. Thank you.”
A flash of pain passed through Nate’s eyes, and he looked away. With a halfhearted nod, he pulled his hand back and turned to where Miss Hannon sat propped against the cabin wall.
Isaac straightened. They could talk more later. Now, the need to find Joanna and Samuel clawed at him like a wildcat.
He hobbled inside the dark interior of the cabin, blinking to clear the halos of light from his vision. A soft humming drifted from his left, and he turned that way.
A figure curled in the corner—Joanna. His heart raced as he swung toward her. The men wouldn’t have left her here alone if she was injured in the fight, would they?
Then his adjusting eyes caught the tiny body she was curled around. Samuel’s bright red hair was hard to miss, even in the dim lighting. He reached the two and laid his walking sticks down, then used the wall to lower himself to sit beside the boy.
“Hey there.” He ducked down to see Samuel’s face, which was barely visible as he pressed against his mother’s side. “How are you, son?”
He reached out and rubbed Samuel’s back, just underneath where Joanna’s arm held him tight, to feel for himself that the lad was real.
Isaac let his hand wander up to rub Joanna’s arm, giving what reassurance he could through a simple touch. She raised her face to his, and the red tingeing her eyes and marking her face made his chest ache.
He brought his hand up to her shoulder, settling it there. He could do so little to help her, but maybe just knowing she wasn’t alone in the midst of her swarming emotions would help.
“How is he?” Isaac had to know, and the boy hadn’t answered him.
She held his gaze. “He’s not saying much, but I don’t think his body is injured. At least, nothing broken.” She pressed her cheek to her son’s hair, snuggling him tighter. The boy pressed into her but still didn’t speak.
Every other time he’d spent more than a passing moment with Samuel, the lad had talked incessantly. Now, his silence reverberated through the cabin like a gunshot in a canyon. How much terror had this lad endured? Had he been beaten? Or was the abuse more in his mind and emotions?
Isaac leaned into the pair, holding tight as he sent up a flurry of prayers to the only Father who could heal the wounds inflicted during the past week.
Tears leaked down Joanna’s face as she clung to her son. So many times she’d feared she would never hold him like this again. Yet God had brought them both through the ordeal.
She would never again take for granted his little-boy hugs. Never wish away his endless chatter. If only he would speak to her now. His silence frightened her more than she wanted to admit. She’d never seen him go this long without speaking, even in those final minutes before sleep claimed him each night.
Hopefully it was just shock from the men bursting into the cabin so suddenly. Joy from reuniting with her unexpectedly. Emotions he couldn’t express with words. Once all the excitement settled, he’d be just like before. Moving and talking incessantly.
And she’d soak in every moment.
She inhaled a breath, releasing as much of her angst as she could. Isaac’s warm strength around her made it doubly hard to end these quiet moments. But she needed to get Samuel away from this place, from whatever memories would plague him here. And the raw blisters on his wrists needed doctoring, in addition to any other wounds he’d incurred.
She straightened, and Isaac eased away to give her space. She summoned the closest thing to a smile she could find. “I think we’re ready to go back to town.”
He stood, with a hand propped against the wall to steady himself, then he reached out to help her up.
But she couldn’t quite bring herself to release Samuel. Isaac must have read her mind, for instead he shifted his reach to her son. With him on one side and her on the other, they lifted him up to standing. One of the Canton brothers had already cut loose the ties that had bound Samuel’s wrists and ankles, but the boy still seemed unsteady.
Once Joanna had gained her own feet, she tucked Samuel in close to her side. Together, the three of them started toward the open door and the bright light of freedom.
Something didn’t feel right. Isaac hobbled on his walking sticks behind Joanna and her son as they stepped out of the gang’s cabin. Though the sun still shone as brightly as before, a chill pricked his arms. Was the danger not yet over?
As much as he wanted to stick close to the woman and boy who’d come to mean so much to him, an urgency in his chest propelled him forward. He caught Joanna’s eye as he moved around her. “Take your time. I’ll get the horses.” He didn’t want her to worry about anything more. Maybe this unease was simply leftover nerves from before.
Yet he knew better than to ignore his instincts.
The men were all gathered at the far end of the open area, near the rock wall. Six horses stood among them, all saddled and waiting. A brown skirt was visible at the edge of the group. Miss Hannon must be eager to leave this place.
Rex and Bill had already mounted, with men on either side of them, probably securing them to the saddle. Isaac would check them himself to make sure there was no chance they could escape.
Not alive, at least. The damage these men had done would not go without punishment.
Isaac was halfway across the open area, doing his best to ignore the blisters from the walking sticks under his arms, when a shift in the men caught his focus. Nate and Tillis helped Aaron rise from where he’d been sitting on the ground, and then they walked with him toward one of the horses.
A pang pricked his chest at the reminder that he’d put a bullet in the man’s shoulder. He’d had to. At least, he was pretty sure of that at the time. They’d get him back to town, and one of them could patch him up so the wound didn’t fester.
Then he could escort Joanna, Samuel, and Miss Hannon back to Settler’s Fort. Life could return to normal.
Except he didn’t want his life to revert back to the boring existence he’d managed before. Now that he’d come to know Joanna, any picture without her in it seemed dull and colorless.
Samuel, too. Though the time they’d spent together was only a few days combined, he yearned to help the boy. To be a man he could look up to. A father who took him fishing and taught him to whistle and pointed him to the Father who would never leave him, not by death or any other reason.
Lord, if it’s not too late, I’d love another chance with them both. God might not see fit to give it to him, but it didn’t stop everything in Isaac from yearning for another opportunity.
Shouting ahead raised his focus.
“Gun!” He couldn’t tell which man yelled it, but a blast ripped through the air.
TWENTY-SIX
A second shot sounded.
Then a third blast filled the courtyard, this one the deeper boom of a rifle.
Men scrambled about in confusion, and Rex no longer sat atop his horse. Had he been the one to shoot? Maybe he’d pulled a gun that the others hadn’t found when they searched him. Please let them have searched him.
So much frustration pressed in Isaac’s chest as he scrambled forward, trying to see who might be down. Some of the men hovered near the horse Rex had been mounted on. Isaac was about ten strides away when he recognized the broad shoulders of Nate Long among the second grouping of men, leaning over a figure lying prone on the ground.
The knot in his stomach tightened. Not Aaron. He didn’t want any of the men to die in this battle, but particularly not his old friend. A man who might finally be ready to leave his life of crime behind
.
Two men shifted when Isaac neared, allowing him access to the injured man. Aaron lay in the grass, his hands gripping his leg. Nate used both hands to press a cloth to the spot beside where Aaron clutched.
Crimson soaked through the fabric, a much brighter red than what was drying on his shoulder. Two bullet wounds this man had suffered—and from the blood spreading over Nate’s hand, the leg wound was the worst.
What could he do to help? Stopping the bleeding had to come first, and Nate was working on that. A glance at his face showed his skin had blanched, his lips pursed in a thin line.
“Is the bone broken, too?” If so, they’d need to set it. But that could wait till they made it back to town.
“I don’t know for sure. It’s bad.” The strain in Nate’s voice cracked on his last word.
“We need to get him to town. I don’t think we can get a wagon up the mountain, but one of us should ride back to River Crossing and bring a buckboard to the base of the hill.” Isaac turned his focus to Aaron’s tight grimace. “I hate to ask it, but if we get the bleeding stopped, do you think you can ride a horse down the mountain?”
The man gave a single tight nod, his breath coming in tiny gasps.
“Here’s my shirt to tie above the wound.” Tillis tugged the garment over his head.
The two of them worked together, a couple other men from town assisting. Once they had the job well in hand and someone had been sent back to town to retrieve a wagon, Isaac moved to see what was happening with Rex.
Pulling himself up to his feet with the walking sticks was getting harder each time he pushed his weary body through the action, but his wasn’t the worst injury. And he had a great deal more to do.
As he turned toward the other cluster of men, a brown skirt caught his notice. Miss Hannon stood apart from the others, near the rock wall. She had her arms wrapped around herself, and her gaze was locked on the men around Aaron. Her face looked impossibly pale.
He walked toward her. In truth, she looked like she might need someone to catch her in case she swooned.
Love's Mountain Quest Page 18
