Rachel struggled with the ropes, but they wouldn’t yield. She leaned her head against the side of the bed. What had Jacqueline done when she’d awakened and hadn’t found her?
Had she been worried? Scared? Gone to Luke?
And where had Miss Black—no, Miss Payton’s—brother gone? What did he intend to do?
She had to get free. To find her daughter and get her somewhere safe. To warn Luke about Ty Payton.
She searched the room, looking for something, anything she could use to cut the ropes. But there was little in the cabin. It must have been abandoned years ago. Or maybe it was a line shack some rancher no longer used.
One chair lay on its side, halfway under the small, warped table. The fireplace was filled with debris—the remains of a bird’s nest, charred wood, ashes, and leaves that had fallen down the opening. On the wall sat two shelves that held three cans. If she could get free, maybe she’d find one of them held something edible.
She scooted across the floor, trying hard to ignore the filth and the pain in her shoulders from having her arms pulled back for so long. Up close, she noticed one of the chair legs was broken, leaving a pointy end. Maybe she could cut her bindings with it.
She squirmed around until the chair was behind her and started sawing the rope back and forth against the point. Miss Payton rolled over onto her side, and Rachel stared at her. She’d been irate at her brother for tying her up and leaving her. At first, she’d tried to reason with him to let them go. But her brother was a hard case. He slapped her and told her to shut up. Rachel could see that the young woman’s lip had swollen overnight.
Rachel’s hands slipped, and the sharp point bit into the tender flesh of her wrist. She cried out, and Miss Payton’s eyes flew open. The young woman looked around, and Rachel knew the moment she remembered her circumstances, because her eyes widened.
She struggled for a few minutes and managed to sit up on the bed. Rachel froze. Should she continue to try to free herself?
“I’m gonna kill Ty for doing this.”
How would she go about that, trussed up like a turkey? “Why did your brother do this? What does he want in Lookout?”
Miss Payton sucked her lips in for a moment. “At first all he wanted was me. But now, I’m not so sure.”
“Why would he come to get you?”
Miss Payton stared at Rachel so long she thought the girl would remain silent, but she must have found Rachel worthy, because she started talking.
“My brother is the leader of the Payton gang, out of Missouri. Maybe you’ve heard of them?”
Rachel shook her head.
“Well, that wouldn’t please Ty. He wants everyone to know who he is.”
“Were you part of his gang?”
“In a way. My ma died when I was fourteen, and I didn’t have no pa. Nobody in town would help me, so Ty let me live with him and his gang. I cooked and did their laundry for years.”
“I’m sorry about your mother. Mine is also gone.”
Miss Payton nodded. “I hated the way the gang members gawked at me, especially as I got older. Gave me the shivers.”
Rachel’s heart ached for the young woman. She understood how hard it was for an unmarried woman with no family ties to make it alone. She turned away, watching the dust motes floating in the air. James had convinced her that Luke would no longer want her once she was sullied. He’d talked her into marrying him so her child would have a father. She shook her head. Some father he turned out to be. Once he realized she’d had a daughter instead of the son he’d longed for, he had lashed out and hit Rachel for the first time.
“I ran away the first chance I got. Came here, hopin’ for a fresh start and that Texas was far enough away that my brother wouldn’t find me. Guess I should have gone to Mexico.”
Now that her shoulders had relaxed a bit and the pain in her wrist had eased, Rachel started sawing again. She doubted that Ty Payton would let her live. Her only chance was to get away.
Had he found Jacqueline? Had he hurt her? She had to get loose—had to protect her daughter.
“What are you doing over there?” Miss Payton scooted to the edge of the bed.
“Trying to get free. I’ve got to get back to my daughter.”
Miss Payton gazed around the room. “There’s not much here.” She sniffed the air and then her shoulder, and wrinkled her nose. “Eww, this place stinks.”
Rachel suspected some varmints had used the bed as a nest a time or two. She shuddered at the thought of lying on that nasty mat. Her clothing also carried the foul stench.
“I met Ellie Blackstone on a stage my brother was plannin’ on robbin’. He set me up as a passenger so I could hold a gun on the travelers while he robbed it.” She bit her lip and looked away. “I didn’t wanna do it.”
Her anxious eyes turned to Rachel. “But I was scared if I didn’t he might let the gang have me. The way they looked at me made my skin crawl as if I had fallen into a crate of spiders.”
Rachel’s heart went out to the girl, and she could understand her overpowering desire to get away. She’d once felt that way herself. “Miss Payton—”
“Do think maybe you could call me by my given name—Carly?”
“Yes, and you must call me Rachel.”
Carly nodded.
“There’s something I don’t understand. Why did you assume Miss Blackstone’s identity?”
“She told me about coming here to marry the marshal. She was all excited about it, but then she got shot. I thought she was dead and took her identity.” Carly looked away and stared out the lone dingy window. “Wouldn’t she have been in for a surprise once she got here?”
Rachel almost grinned. “That mail-order bride debacle sure got out of hand, didn’t it?”
“You like him, don’t you? The marshal, I mean.”
Rachel’s gaze collided with Carly’s. Was her affection for Luke obvious to others? She tried so hard to hide it. “We were engaged a long time ago—when we were even younger than you are now.”
Carly leaned forward until Rachel thought that she, too, might fall headfirst off the bed. “What happened?” she asked in a hushed voice.
Rachel grimaced. “It’s a long story.”
“We’re not going anywhere anytime soon.”
“We are if I have my way. You ought to see if you can find something sharp and try to cut your bindings. We need to get away from here before your brother returns.”
Carly nodded and eased to her feet. She hopped around the room, searching, and with each bounce, Rachel thought for sure she’d get tangled in her skirts and fall. Carly’s foot bumped something, and it clinked. Rachel’s heart leaped as Carly looked up, eyes wide. “There’s some glass here that must have fallen out of the window.”
Rachel eased onto her knees. “Can you get it?”
Carly stooped down, trying to get her hands low enough to pick up the broken pane. Suddenly, she wavered and fell over backward. She winced, but as soon as she hit the floor, she scooted back toward the glass. Rachel held her breath. Please, Lord.
“Ouch!” She jumped and grimaced; then her gaze lit up. “I’ve got it!”
Hope surged through Rachel’s heart. “Praise the Lord. Can you work it so you can cut the ropes?”
“It’s awkward, but I think I can.”
Rachel went back to sawing her ropes against the chair.
“So, are you gonna tell me why you didn’t marry that handsome marshal?”
“He wasn’t a marshal back then, just a poor youth who did every job he could trying to make enough money to get us a place to live so we could marry.”
“Why didn’t you?”
Rachel didn’t want to tell her what had happened. Didn’t want her to think less of her. Was it just pride? No, it was to protect her daughter. If the townsfolk knew that she was already pregnant when she married James, they would look down on Jacqueline, and the poor child had enough troubles as it was. “It just wasn’t meant to be, I suppos
e.”
“You mean you don’t think it was God’s will?”
Stopping her sawing, Rachel stared at the young woman. “I used to think marrying Luke was God’s will.”
“But if you’d married him, you wouldn’t have that kid of yours.” Carly flinched and cursed. “Sorry. I cut myself again. Don’t know if this is such a good idea.”
Rachel thought about what Carly said. “That’s true. My marriage to James wasn’t ... um ... a love match. But God did use it to give me Jacqueline. The Bible says, ‘And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.’”
“And you believe that?”
Rachel nodded, seeing for the first time that something good had come from her marriage to James. He’d given her a daughter. She smiled at Carly. “Yes, I do believe that God can bring good from any situation.”
Carly looked at her as if she’d gone loco. “How could good come from us gettin’ kidnapped and tied up? You know my brother will probably kill you—and maybe even me, too.”
Rachel swallowed hard. “That’s why we can’t be here when he returns. Luke will be looking for us by now. Jacqueline would have gone to him when she couldn’t find me.”
At least she hoped that had happened and that Carly’s brother didn’t have her child.
“How can you believe in God when so many bad things happen?”
Rachel felt her ropes give way a little, and she renewed her efforts to get free. “It’s a matter of choice. I choose to believe. I know God’s nature from reading the Bible and listening to the preacher. He’s a God of love and wants nothing more than to have His children love and worship Him.”
Carly ceased her efforts and wrestled her way into a sitting position. The side of her face that had been against the floor was coated in dust. “Who gets to be God’s children?”
Rachel smiled. “God wants every person on earth to become one, including you.”
The young woman’s eyes widened with awe, and she sat up straighter. “Me?”
“Yes, it’s true. But God gives us a choice whether to serve Him or not. Sin separates us from God.”
Carly ducked her head. “I’ve done some bad things.”
“We all have.”
“Not you.” Carly shook her head. “You’re as good a person as I ever met.”
The compliment warmed Rachel’s heart. “Thank you, but I’m a sinner, too. God made a way for sinners to come back to Him, though. He sent His only Son, Jesus, to earth. Jesus lived here among us, but He was the sacrificial lamb, and His death on the cross meant that we could again be one with God.”
“Truly?”
Rachel nodded. “All you have to do is believe that Jesus Christ is God’s Son, and ask forgiveness for your sins.”
Carly’s face crumpled. “My brother and I have done too many bad things. It’s too late for us.”
“No, it’s not. As long as you’re still breathing, there’s hope.”
“Even for bank robbers?”
Rachel held back a gasp. She knew Carly harbored secrets but never suspected that she, too, was an outlaw. She cringed at the memory of her daughter interacting with the young woman. They’d had an outlaw living in their home.
“See, even you look at me different, now that you know. I only did it because Ty said I had to. I didn’t never shoot nobody.” She hung her head but continued to saw at the ropes.
“I’m sorry. You just surprised me is all. But whatever you’ve done, God will forgive you if you ask Him—even for bank robbery.”
Carly remained silent, and they both worked to free themselves. Rachel still worried about their situation but marveled that God could have put her here—just like Queen Esther in the Bible—for such a time as this. And if He had, He would see her safely returned to her daughter.
She bowed her head. Help us, Lord. Keep Jacqueline safe. Help Carly to understand that You love her no matter what she’s done.
CHAPTER 31
Luke walked his horse toward Lookout, feeling as if a five-hundred-pound weight was pulling him down. He’d searched for hours and found no sign of Rachel. The tracks had simply disappeared when they blended with other hoof prints on the road.
The hot July afternoon sun beat on him, sending rivulets of sweat down his temple and back. He stopped and took a drink of the lukewarm water from his canteen as he studied the countryside. Not even a bird dotted the pale blue sky that reminded him so much of Rachel’s eyes. He wanted to see those eyes spark with laughter. To see them darken with love for him again.
He longed to hold her close and never let her go. Why had he been so stubborn? Why hadn’t he realized sooner that he was at fault?
His gaze searched the rolling hills whose green was turning to dried yellow from the heat and lack of rain. He’d been barren like that before God entered his life. He’d wasted so many years, wallowing in self-pity and a refusal to forgive. But now he had a chance to start over, if only...
Where was Rachel? Did she have water at hand? Was she somewhere sweating in a stuffy, little room? Was she still alive?
No! He couldn’t allow that thought to creep into his mind. To give him doubts. God wouldn’t bring him home and finally remove the shroud of resentment and bitterness from his heart only to take Rachel away before he could tell her he still loved her.
“God, please. Help me find her. Give me a chance to make things up to her. To show her how much I love her.” He lifted his hat and ran his hands through his sweaty hair. “Show me where she is.”
***
Rachel’s shoulders ached from her efforts to get free. Hours of rubbing the rope across the wood spike had yielded little. She had more movement in her hands, but they were still lashed together. Her stomach complained of the lack of food, but what she craved most, next to her freedom, was a drink of cool water—and to know Jacqueline was safe.
The hot sun beat relentlessly on the little shack, heating it to unbearable temperatures. Her hair and clothing were soaked with sweat, and she longed to close her eyes and sleep. But she had to get free before Carly’s brother returned. She couldn’t let herself think what would happen if she didn’t.
Carly gasped. “I broke through another thread. Just a little more and I should be able to get loose.”
“Oh, thank the Lord.” Rachel renewed her efforts. Even if Carly got free, she wasn’t sure if the young woman would release her, too, or just take off without her.
They continued sawing in silence for a while, then Carly suddenly looked up. “So you gonna tell me what happened between you and the marshal?”
Rachel blinked. She’d hope Carly wouldn’t bring him up again. “That was a long time ago.”
Carly shook her head and grinned. “I don’t think so. I’ve seen the way you look at him.”
“What do you mean?”
“You look like a woman in love—at least what I’d expect a woman in love to look like. Not that I’ve ever known any.” She blushed and looked over her shoulders as if trying to see her hands.
Rachel sat back a moment. “Was it really that obvious?”
Carly shrugged. “Maybe not to everyone, but I also saw how the marshal watched you whenever the two of you were together. Me and them other brides never stood a chance. Don’t know why his crazy cousins thought Marshal Davis needed help finding a wife when he was already head over heels for you.”
A warmth flooded Rachel’s chest before she threw a cold bucket of reality on it. “You’re wrong about Luke. He may have loved me once, but no more.”
A man who couldn’t forgive a woman for a past hurt certainly couldn’t be in love with her. Yet he’d said he was sorry. Sorry for not forgiving her? Sorry for giving her the cold shoulder? Sorry for something she didn’t yet know about?
“I ain’t mistaken about him, but I wanna ask you somethin’ else. Were you the anonymous bride?”
Rachel knew the color on her cheeks gave her away, and she nodd
ed. “That was foolish of me. I just didn’t want to let Luke go without at least trying to win back his favor.”
“Your pie was the only one worth eating. All of ours were too salty or burnt.” Carly scowled. “It was a waste of time to mess with those pies.”
Rachel’s head jerked up, a sick feeling of regret churning in her stomach. “What do you mean?”
The Anonymous Bride (Texas Boardinghouse Brides 1) Page 31
