Harris Channing

by In Sarah's Shadow

  Her full lips fell into a frown. "I don't know."

  He shook his head and gazed heavenward. "God in heaven, what is it you want of me?"

  Chapter 18

  "David wait!" she called after him, but she knew she had lost him. Knew that her error in judgment and lack of trust in him was something he wouldn't be able to overcome. Not where Reg Crocker was concerned.

  He didn't even look back at her when he exited the cabin but he didn't slam the door either. Didn't even close it. Was this his way of inviting her to follow? Well, if it weren't she was going to claim it in spite of his intentions. She wasn't finished with him, not yet.

  Lifting her skirt, she raced out after him, her woolen frock no match for the icy cold air. Once on the porch, she skidded to a halt, the sight before her taking away her breath. The sledge loaded with supplies and standing beside Ned the most beautiful buckskin she had ever seen.

  David stepped off the porch and untied the newcomer, offering Bobbie the reins. "Happy birthday," he said. "Today was supposed to be the birth of a new life for me, too." He let out a grunt and narrowed his gaze, the loathing of his expression even more powerful without his whiskers.

  Her stomach plummeted and guilt bit at her more than the cold air. He had shaved for her, and cut his hair. With her knees growing weak, she reached out for his offering. How was it possible he was even more beautiful? His strong jaw, his dimpled cheek, and the fullness of his lower lip…oh how she wanted to throw herself at him, but she didn't. She had her pride…even if it was the only thing she had left.

  He shook his head and looked to the sledge. "I'm going to need that," he said, bending over and shoving the fresh supplies into the snow.

  "What are you doing?" She set her hand to her chest in hopes that she could ease the rapid beat of her heart.

  With the chore done, he shoved his foot in the stirrup and swung into Ned's saddle. "I'm fetching your kin. Get the root cellar ready for them."

  "But David…Reg is out of his mind--"

  He lifted his hand in an obvious attempt to silence and halt her pursuit. "Don't you think I know that?"

  Ignoring his unspoken order she sped to his side, the buckskin throwing her head up in the air at the sudden movement. But Bobbie persisted. She wasn't going to let him go like this. "Let me at least tell you what happened."

  "I know enough," he grumbled. "Now, this time you stay here. Do you understand me? If you follow I will know how very little you respect the man who saved your life."

  Dropping the reins she grabbed hold of his leg. "David please, let me come with you, to make certain--."

  "Why?" he asked, his brow lifted and his face alive with passionate disgust. "Didn't see enough of him while I was away?" He dug his heels into Ned's sides and the beast sprinted toward the woods.

  "Really all I did was seek comfort from my family after you abandoned me!" she shouted after him. "Reg…he…" She pinched her lips together. Should she tell all? Should she insist he know everything that occurred?

  She lowered her head and decided no. If he were enraged any further, what would he do? Yes, Reg deserved punishment, but she wouldn't fan the fire that already sparked within David. He was ready to explode, did she dare strike a match?

  "David please come back." Yet he didn't turn toward her, he simply ducked his head as he disappeared into the thicket.

  And she didn't blame him for not looking back. He was right, she guiltily conceded. Her reasons for going were not as innocent as she pretended. She had gone to hurt him and he was smart enough to see through her lame attempt at revenge.

  She stood where he left her, hoping he would return, the gnawing sting of anxiety very nearly paralyzing her. What had she done? Had she killed his affection or worse, sent him on a deadly endeavor?

  ***

  Damn her, anyway. Why would she do it? Why would she go to the one person he hated more than any other? "I was hurt…hurt that you would leave without even asking me if I was all right!"

  He gnashed his teeth together, his fury only rivaled by his guilt. He had taken her virginity and in her mind, deserted her. But if she had only waited a few hours, she would have known his true intent. That he wanted to marry her. To have a life with her.

  But how could that be when she believed him capable of murdering not only Sarah but an innocent babe! He swallowed his anger as his thoughts raced from emotion to logic. He was far from innocent. For hadn't he killed men in his time? Men in war? Men in retaliation for the death of his wife? Damnation! Damnation! Damnation! It was no wonder he drank. He always believed himself to be righteous, but he wasn't. His soul was marred with death and despair.

  Pulling Ned to a halt, he stroked the beast's neck. "I am a monster." The truth of his words hit him hard and he sat for the longest time, staring forward but not seeing anything. His mind overflowed with scenes from his life. Landscapes tainted crimson, memories of his saber cutting, his fists slamming, and his bullets flying. Horses fell from beneath him in cavalry charges. Women sobbed over the dead in battlefield after battlefield, where the stink of death hung on the fog of gun smoke.

  He lowered his head. "There is more than that to me," he mumbled, searching his mind for something, anything positive.

  He delved into his past, scratching through the unpleasantries of war and Sarah's murder. To a place that enveloped him in warmth and happiness. He recalled his sparse office on the town square where he worked to improve the conditions of the poor in his county. His mind raced to the slave quarters on his mother and father's plantation, where he secretly paid his mammy and her husband all he could to see them able to buy their freedom.

  "You are such a good son, Davy." The thought of May's calloused hand on his cheek warmed his heart even now. The woman was more of a mother to him than his own.

  And May's son, Matthias. After his schooling everyday he went to the boy and had taught him everything he learned. And then they'd play in the forest out of site of the overseer.

  But all that was before he went to war. Before he took his first life. Before Sarah had become his bride…The war with not only the Yankees but with Sarah had worn away the veneer of his youthful ideology. The man he was and the man he had become two sides of a weathered coin.

  Still, he grasped for hope that all he had been wasn't lost. And with a glimmer of realization he found it reflected in Bobbie's wide gray eyes. Yes. Bobbie had offered him a small glimpse of the goodness that still fought to survive in the murky, whiskey laden depths of his soul. For even drunk and miserable, hadn't he offered his knowledge to Roberta to save not only her life but her limbs?

  Calmness swept over him at the thought of her and he allowed himself to let go of his anger. She had made a mistake and the way she looked at him, the way she clung to his leg, she realized what she had done was wrong. She played a game and she paid the price. Yet her gifts to him far outweighed her error in judgment. Her loving touch, her sweet kisses, her belief in him. He should have never left her without so much as an explanation. He was every bit as guilty as she was.

  Offering Ned his heel, the pair once again began their journey toward Reg's place, the horse's hooves sinking in the knee high snow. Each step brought him closer to Reg and to the problem of how to deal with the man. Would there be a way to peacefully negotiate the return of Bobbie's family? If not, would he be forced to use violence to yet again solve a problem? He brought his lower lip between his teeth and hoped not. For, he didn't relish the idea of putting someone else in the ground…not even Reginald Crocker.

  ***

  Bobbie longed to go after him. Everything in her body urged her to saddle up the buckskin and discretely follow David into the thicket. For if anything happened to him, it was her fault. Hadn't she used his jealousy in an attempt to hurt him for hurting her?

  Guilt had tears blinding her, but she did as he instructed. She pulled in the supplies until all were stacked neatly on the pantry shelves. She tended to the horse, the sight of the glorious animal
only compounding the culpability that ripped at her insides. The animal was a present…a birthday present! He had remembered what she said. Had given her the nicest gift ever.

  Thoughts of his clean shaven face and neatly cut hair beat at her will. Why couldn't she have been patient? Why did she have to allow her temper to get the better of her? The truth was, she very seldom did things without thought…but since meeting David, her emotions got the better of her.

  With the sun beginning its daily descent, she trudged toward the root cellar, her toes aching from the chill of the snow. Pulling open the rickety wooden door, she looked inside and a shiver of unease cascaded across her body. It was such a cold, dark, lonely place. A place that was just big enough to store the remains of her family. The thought of them lying there had her limbs trembling as she began to remove all the items stored within. A sack full of apples, a half barrel of musty smelling potatoes, a handful of carrots. Not much fresh food to get them through winter, but enough to have her lamenting their waste.

  Wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her jacket, she trekked to the barn, pulling the barrel with her. "Just keep busy," she mumbled. "And David will be back soon. It will all be all right." Even as she tried to convince herself of a positive outcome, doubts crept in alongside fresh tears.

  She forcibly shoved the negative thoughts aside and with a sniffle, hoped the remaining vacant stall would stay cold enough to keep the items fresh until she could use them.

  She passed by the buckskin and paused, fighting to catch her breath. The mare stood with her head down as she munched on flakes of hay. Oh, how she envied the beast. The animal was content and happy to be in from the cold, and filling her belly. She yearned for that simplicity. Her own stomach ached with a misery that she longed to purge. Who knew guilt could fill the void of hunger so absolutely?

  But, she admitted to herself, that guilt was by far the lesser of the emotions that battled within her. Anxiety and fear of the unknown pummeled her with iron fists. What if something happened to David? How would she live without him? For despite all that had come to pass over the course of one day, she loved him. With all her heart she loved him.

  Setting her hand on the stall door, she vowed that when David returned, she would convince him of her sincerity. He would know with certainty that she truly regretted her actions. She would reassure him anyway she could that nothing like this would ever happen again. He needed to know without a doubt that she was not like Sarah.

  ***

  David tied Ned to the hitching post and mounted the steps. He drew in a deep, chilled breath, trying to clear his mind and ease his dislike of the man. Finally, he rapped on Reg's door, wondering if it had been a wise move to approach the monster without his weapon in his hand.

  He shook his head. No need to start the conversation threateningly. No, he'd try a new tactic. One that he hoped he could manage. For civility and Crocker didn't really go very well together. But perhaps it was time to forgive and move on, for both their sakes.

  "Reg, I need to talk to you," he shouted through the door. But there was no shuffling from the other side. No sound but the whistling of the wind through the trees. Stepping off the porch he gazed up at the chimney. No tell tale sign of smoke. The man wasn't home. Well, damnation! Where had the black hearted bastard gone?

  With daylight waning, he marched toward the barn, hoping to find the family tucked away in one of the stalls. Pulling open the door, he entered, the smell of musty hay meeting his nose.

  His stomach roiled at the emptiness that lay before him. Three sheets littered the barn floor. Three moist sheets, coated with lime. He clenched his jaw and stumbled from stall to stall in the hope that he would find Bobbie's family. But each compartment was bare. No tack save a large work horse's harness, no horses, and very little grain and hay.

  He grimaced. Reg pretended to have funds, pretended to be a man of relative wealth, but he had nothing.

  Pulling his knit cap over his ears, he left the barn and pondered just what he should do next. With the sun near set and the world around him turning gray, he considered going home. Considered it for only a moment, because coming to Bobbie without her family would shatter her heart and that was something he only wanted to cherish from this moment on.

  With a moan, he put his rusty tracking knowledge to work. He searched the ground for fresh sledge tracks. Surely, Reg couldn't do his worst with Bobbie's family without the ease of transport.

  He drew his lower lip between his teeth, wondering just where the man would put the remains of three people. Still searching the ground, he lamented the lack of fresh snow. The entire area was a mucky, icy mess from foot and hoof traffic. No way to pick up a track.

  Unhitching Ned from the post, he led him around the back of the house.

  Wind stung his face as he looked up the side of the mountain. Again he wondered why Reg would choose such an unsheltered place to build a home. It made no sense to him, yet when he noticed the sledge tracks, he knew he had come the right way.

  What the hell was the man doing? Wouldn't it be easier to leave them out in the wild for the animals? To tuck them in an abandoned mine shaft? Or toss them into the ravine where he found them? Rage boiled up from the pit of his stomach. The man wanted Bobbie. He had her family. He would hide them and use them to get to her. Well, damnation, he wouldn't allow that to happen. Reg Crocker would have to kill him if he intended to get to Bobbie. And he wasn't about to lie down for that.

  Setting his foot in the stirrup of Ned's saddle, he mounted the beast. With a sigh, he started up the narrow, craggy path. Touching the stock of his rifle, he realized that some people really did deserve mountain justice and if it came to it, he'd add another black mark to his soul in order to protect what he loved.

  Chapter 19

  Bobbie paced before the fire, her trembling knees threatening to buckle. She'd been scared before. She recalled that night in the snow when David's cabin came into view…yes she had been scared then. But that didn't compare to now. No. David had gone on an errand for her. It was mistake, not an accident that he had left. It had been her doing, her mistake. Her pride, her foolishness that had him going into the heart of a monster's den.

  She twisted her hands in her apron and continued to pace. If only she had followed him. Stopped him. Anything but do as she was told and stay behind! But hadn't guilt been the reason she stored the food and cleared the root cellar rather than saddle the buckskin and go after him?

  She rubbed her forehead, small drops of cold sweat clung to her and misery encompassed every breath she took. Dear Lord, what was she to do? What if David lay dying in the snow? Murdered in ambush by Reg Crocker? Or attacked by the wolf that had menaced her?

  Swallowing hard, she continued to pace, her mind so saturated with worry that she barely noticed Alfred lurch from the bed and amble toward the door. "Should I just stay here and wait?" she asked herself but David's warning gave her pause. "If you follow I will know how very little you respect the man that saved your life."

  "And if I remain stuck here, I will go crazy," she mumbled. But at Alfred's yip, she turned toward the cur. Standing on his hind legs, he scratched at the door with an eagerness that had her heart soaring.

  "David." She grabbed her coat and shoving her arms in the sleeves, she prepared to see him. Lord knew she was more than ready to wrap her arms around him and beg him to forgive her misguided notions and to ask for one more chance.

  Without thought, she pulled open the door, the night air so bitterly cold that it momentarily stole her breath. Alfred, unconcerned with the chill, ran out into the silver night, barking a warning that stole any hope that lingered in her mind. Alfred would not behave that way toward David. Only one person ever caused the usually pleasant natured dog to turn into a menacing beast. Reg Crocker.

  Alarm shot through her on adrenaline laced wings and shoving her hand in her pocket, she wrapped her fingers around the grip of the small pistol. "Alfred!" she shouted but knew the futility of it. The d
og wanted the man dead and would not be deterred by her call.

  At the sound of a gunshot ringing through the air, her knees grew weak. "Alfred, please!" she called again. The frightened sound of her dog crying out in distress sent shockwaves through her.

  Lifting her skirt, she charged out into the blackness of night. She no longer worried about her own safety. No, Alfred was the only thing on her mind. With her feet sinking in snow drifts and her hems heavy, she called his name again, all the while wondering what Reg Crocker had done to him. Had her terrible judgment cost her everyone she loved?

  She continued her charge, ignoring the stitch in her side and the disorienting darkness of night. The only source of light, the cloud filtered moon. As if God himself had heard her, the clouds scuttled westward allowing the moon's silver light to reflect of the sparkling white snow.

  With a deep breath that had her lungs aching, she prepared to call to Alfred again, but stopped. Through narrowed eyes, she caught sight of a horse and rider. Her insides churned with a mixture of hope and fear. The figure appeared to be dismounting, his tall, frame in silhouette against the stark white of the landscape. Tall enough, broad enough…hope sped to the surface and without thought of consequence she decided to venture closer, to see if the man was who she believed him to be. Cautiously she approached, her heartbeat whooshing in her ears with such force she wondered if all the creatures lurking in the wood could hear it. Knew of her vulnerability and were waiting for the right moment to attack.

  The shadowed rider moved around the front of the horse, momentarily disappearing from her view, but when he stepped back into the light, her world seemed to grow brighter. It had to be David. No one moved with such ease in the rugged terrain.

  "David!" she shouted, her voice an echo across the night.

  "Bobbie, what are you doing down here?" His tone was angry. "I thought I told you to stay home. It's not safe."

  Her elation fled, but her legs continued to catapult her toward him. She needed to see him safe, to know that her misguided mistake hadn't caused him harm. Finally, she reached him, the sight of him in the moonlight sending a jolt of awareness through her body. "What are you shooting at?" She looked around, seeing nothing in the dim light but still frantic for an answer.