Chase the Wind

by Cindy Holby - Wind 01 - Chase the Wind

  “When are you to collect the money?” Miriam was asking.

  “I told you, after the ceremony.” It was her father, sounding very impatient.

  “Will it be enough?”

  Faith heard her father’s bitter laugh. “Is it ever? I thought the price Jenny’s father gave me to marry her when she was carrying her little bastard daughter would be enough to last a lifetime, but it was gone in a few short years.”

  Faith listened to the revelation without batting an eye. It made perfect sense. Her mother had loved someone else. She picked up her bag and headed towards the woods behind the barn.

  The rain had not really stopped. It continued in a slow drizzle, just enough to make Ian’s last few miles uncomfortable. Night was coming early, the clouds that had gathered to the west canceling out the evening sun. He routed himself around the north side of town and came down the river trail to the woods behind Faith’s house. He left the gray in the usual place, the grove of trees being well sheltered now with the undergrowth that was common in the summer. He came around the outside of the barn and quietly made his way to the oak tree. He stood with it between him and the house and studied the situation. It sounded as if a row was going on inside the house. He saw the big black, Armageddon, tied to the fence post and a horse and buggy stationed beyond. He heard words being exchanged but was unable to make sense of the conversation. If they’re unhappy now, wait until I get through with them, he thought to himself as he swung up in the tree.

  He had climbed up to Faith’s window in a matter of seconds and had to smile when he saw the sash wide open. No doubt there was a puddle on the floor beyond. He reached out for the sill and quickly scanned the room. The door was barely hanging by one hinge, but something else was wrong. Something tickled the back of his mind. His eyes went round the room again and settled on the bed. The quilt was gone. Ian knew Faith well enough to know that she wouldn’t go anywhere without that quilt. It was gone, so therefore she was gone. She must have changed her mind about the wedding at the last minute, and that was what the uproar was about. The thing to do now was to find her before Mason did.

  He was hanging from the lowest branch, ready to hit the ground, when he saw her boot prints in the soft earth beneath the tree. He landed gently and looked back up at the route he had taken. He smiled at the picture that formed in his mind. He couldn’t wait to hear about her tackling the tree. The prints went to the window and then took off around the barn. He had practically walked over them on his way in. He heard movement at the window above him and flattened himself against the wall. The heated conference had moved from the front hall to the salon.

  “I thought you had her under control, Taylor.” That was Mason speaking.

  “She never gave any sign,” Faith’s father replied.

  “Now, Randolph, I’m sure it’s just a case of pre-wedding jitters,” Mason’s mother suggested.

  “We must find her before anyone discovers she’s missing,” Miriam was adding. “It would be most embarrassing for both families if word of this got out.”

  Ian quietly moved away from the window. There was only one place he could think of that she would go, and that was to find him in Richmond. He’d probably ridden right by her on his way into town. There were several routes available to her, and he needed to consider them quickly before Mason found her. Since he had come in on the road from the east and north, he would check the ferry to the south across the Kanawha. She probably didn’t have much money and would need to pass in secret. Those constraints would reduce the transportation available to her.

  He made his way around the barn, practically walking in her footprints. They disappeared in the leaves and debris that covered the ground in the woods. He mounted the gray and followed the path out, scanning the earth as he went. There, she had turned to the south, she was going to cross the river and go east on the other side. He kicked the gray into a gallop along the trail, his churning hooves flinging up mud and erasing the signs of Faith’s passage. The trail ended where the business district began. Ian rode down the main street now, the buildings here backing up to the river.

  He came to the place where the two rivers met and he turned east, searching for the path that led down to the ferry. He spied the trail and urged the gray down. The ferry was gone, the place deserted. Ian jumped from the back of the gray to better scan the earth around the dock. It was nearly dark, and the rain was picking up. The shack that housed the ferry master looked empty, and he could only surmise that the man had already crossed the river. It was too dark to see if the ferry was docked on the other bank. Ian wanted to make sure, so he went to knock on the door. The door was unlatched and he pushed it open, cautiously sticking his head into the one room shack. He caught the flash of some projectile and raised his arm to block a pewter pitcher that was aimed at his head. He launched his body into the corner from which the weapon had come and crashed into a body. He tried to find a purchase on his squirming attacker and found his hand curved around a soft breast.

  “Faith?” he asked the darkness. He heard a small intake of breath and sat back on his heels. The body moved away, and he heard fumbling across the room. A lantern came to life, spreading a small circle of warmth in the dreary shack. She walked up to him, carrying the lantern, and held it up to his face in the darkness. The hair had fallen across his eyes and he pushed it back. Her face went from bewilderment to joy in a matter of seconds, and she flung herself into his arms, dropping the lantern in the process. Ian held her to him, then instantly shoved her away and began stamping out the flames that were dancing across the floor from the broken lantern. When they were out, he found her again and drew her within the circle of his arms.

  “What are—” she began, but he put his finger to her lips.

  “We’ll talk about it later; we must be away before they find us.”

  “I never stopped loving you,” she said in the darkness.

  “I know,” he replied. “Let’s go.” He pulled her out the door, giving her a second to scoop up her bag. He mounted the gray and pulled her up behind. He hooked the bag on the horn as she wrapped her arms around him. Her cheek settled against his shoulder, and he caressed her hand as he gathered the reins.

  “I hope you don’t mind going west,” he said as they went up the embankment to the road.

  “As long as we’re together, I don’t care where we go,” she said against his shoulder.

  “We will be, I promise.” He kicked the gray into a canter. “We’ll go north and take the ferry across.”

  “But that will take us by the Masons place.”

  “I know. They’re all at your house now.” She laughed at that, a laugh that bubbled up from within and made Ian’s heart leap.

  The streets were mostly deserted due to the rain that had now increased in tempo. They were both soaked through, but neither seemed to care. They had soon passed through the town and were on the road to the north. The rain was getting worse, with the wind picking up again, and the far-off rumble of thunder could be heard. Ian slowed the gray on the road; it was almost impossible for him to see and he couldn’t risk the animal stumbling.

  “Is there any place around here where we can take shelter?” he asked Faith over his shoulder. She raised her head to get her bearings. He heard her talking, but the wind snatched the words away before he could hear them. She finally pointed to a cutoff to the right and he took it. The path led them into a tunnel of trees. The rain let up a bit, but the wind howled through the passage with a vengeance. The limbs above them swayed and creaked, and the gray danced a bit when a wayward branch landed on his rump. The path opened into a clearing, and Ian made out the remains of a barn when a bolt of lightning lit the sky. He dismounted and led the gray to the leaning structure. One wall was completely gone, causing the other three to lean in at odd angles. He led the gray into the opening. Faith having to duck down over his neck to make it safely in. Ian reached up to help her down, and noticed she was smiling when another bolt of lightning ri
pped through the sky.

  “What is this place?” he asked above the roar of the rain.

  “My mother had a friend who lived here. We used to visit when I was small,” Faith explained. “The lady died when her cabin burned—I was ten, I think.”

  “Does anyone know about this place?” Ian asked. He was briskly rubbing Faith’s arms to keep her warm.

  “I don’t think so; it’s pretty much been forgotten.”

  “We can’t stay here long; we have to move on before they get all the roads covered.”

  Faith nodded in agreement. Her teeth were chattering, and she leaned her head against Ian’s chest. “You know I am supposed to get married tomorrow,” she said into his damp shirt.

  “I guess I showed up just in time, then,” he replied.

  “To stop it?” she asked, looking up at his face in the darkened barn.

  “To be the groom. You weren’t planning on it being someone else, were you?” She caught the flash of his cocky grin in the darkness. He lowered his head and kissed her, and all the emotion she had held in check flooded to the surface.

  “Oh, Ian, I had to send you away. They were going to kill you.” The words were followed by small, shuddering sobs. “They found out about us, and Randolph had hired men to get you, but he wanted to kill you himself, and my father sold me to him to get out of debt, only he’s really not my father, and I realized I couldn’t marry”—a big sob came out—”and I had to get to you—” Ian pushed her head back into his chest. He was so soaked, a few tears wouldn’t matter.

  “How did they find out?” he asked.

  “I heard Randolph tell”—she couldn’t call the man Father— “Melvin.” The name sounded obscene to her. “He heard you talking to your horse about us.”

  Ian looked at her incredulously, and then his mind flashed back to a stall and a tall chestnut he was brushing and a noise he heard in the stable that day.

  “Faith, I am so sorry. I am an idiot at times, especially around my animals.”

  “I was just so afraid they were going to kill you.”

  “They nearly did,” he said, remembering the rest of that day.

  “They did?” She sobbed again, “Oh, Ian.”

  “Don’t worry, I survived. Besides, only the good die young, haven’t you ever heard that?”

  “That’s what scares me so.” He pulled her close again. The storm was now directly over them, the thunder coming so fast that it was impossible to talk. The wind shook the old timbers, and Ian surveyed the rafters, wondering how much abuse the old place could stand. They stood together in the barn, Ian holding Faith close, stroking her hair. The gray sidled up to Ian’s back, he too wanted the comfort of the man.

  When the lightning seemed to have moved off a bit and the thunder didn’t sound like it was on top of them, they emerged from the rickety shelter. The rain was still falling, but they could travel. They needed to cross the river before they were found. Ian didn’t even want to think about what all this rain was doing to the waters of the Ohio. He just knew they needed to get across. Then maybe he could breathe easier. There was no doubt in his mind about what would happen if they were caught.

  They made their way back up the trail and were soon halted by a tree that had fallen across the path. Ian backed the gray up and sent him into the underbrush towards the trunk end to get around the mess. They floundered about a bit, and then found the path again. They soon were on the road, heading north to the ferry that would take them across to Ohio and safety. Ian regretted running the gray so hard, but felt that the need to escape was greater than the need for caution. Faith clung to his waist, her face buried against his shoulder, his wide frame protecting her from the rain that pelted his face.

  Ian saw lights shining up ahead. He hoped it was a sign that they had come to the small river town that was home to the ferry. That hope turned to dismay when he saw a group of men on horseback holding torches and sheltered under the limbs of a sprawling oak next to the road.

  The men came out to meet him. He touched his heels to the gray’s flanks and the horse burst though the mob, scattering the group in all directions. Faith held on for dear life. Ian heard the sound of pursuit behind. He leaned over the gray’s neck, Faith leaning with him, and looked back under his arm.

  It was Mason. The big hooves of Armageddon were eating up the road, quickly closing the distance between them. The gray was no match. He was tired and he was carrying two on a wet track. Armageddon was in his element; he was born and bred for conditions such as this. Ian knew he had to stop and fight. He reached his arm back and wrapped it around Faith’s waist.

  “When we stop, you run.”

  “No!” she screamed in his ear. Ian pulled up on the reins with his left hand and swung Faith to the ground with his right.

  “Run!” he yelled at the top of his lungs. He wheeled the gray around and kicked him towards the big black that was looming up on them before Faith hit the ground. She dashed into the woods by the road and took shelter behind a tree. Ian could practically see the smile on Mason’s face as he headed Armageddon right for them. Ian knew his gray couldn’t survive a full charge from the animal. At the last minute he flexed his right knee and the gray turned from the charge. Ian leaned into Mason as he passed by and pulled him off the back of his horse, both of them going down into the muddy road. They struggled to get a hold on each other, rolling around in the mud, each looking for an opening.

  “She’s mine,” Mason ground out as he went for Ian’s throat with his meaty hands.

  “She doesn’t belong to anyone but herself,” Ian returned as he pushed Mason away with a forearm. Ian rolled out from under Mason’s body and staggered to his feet, the mud clinging to him, sucking against him. Mason reached out a hand and tripped Ian, and he went down on his hands and knees. Mason made to grab Ian’s waist, but Ian slipped away, rolling. Mason lurched after him.

  Faith came out of her hiding place and grabbed the reins of the gray. Both men were so covered with mud that the only way she could tell them apart was by their builds. Ian was leaner and taller than Mason, while Mason had a good thirty to forty pounds more on his frame. She anxiously watched the men rolling and slipping, as neither one could press an advantage. She frantically wondered what she could do to help Ian, but realized that if Mason got his hands on her it would seriously jeopardize their escape. If only she had a weapon . ..

  Ian had a gun. She had seen it the night he had put Katrina down. She began to search his saddlebags, sticking her hand in one to see if she could feel anything. It wasn’t there, so she tried the other side, the gray dancing away from her as the fighters rolled under his forelegs. She jerked him around and began to search the other saddlebag; Her hand closed around the cold, hard barrel at the same time that she felt something else cold and hard pressed against her back.

  “I should have killed you along with your mother.’ It was the man she had referred to as her father all these years.

  Faith leaned her head against the gray, her hand still in the bag. “You killed my mother?” she said in an icy voice.

  “Yes. I pushed her down the stairs. I needed to find a new wife with some money, and hers had run out.”

  While the voice belonged to the man Faith knew as Melvin Taylor, the tone was one she had never heard before. It was the voice of one who would do anything to get what he wanted. “Now step away from that horse. We’ve got to get you home for your wedding.”

  “I am not going to marry Randolph Mason,” she said between gritted teeth. She pulled the gun out of the bag and in one motion swung around and struck Taylor in the jaw with it. The man staggered back, his gun flying out of his hands into the muck. She hit him again, this time sending him into the mud with his weapon.

  She turned to focus on the fight. Mason had used his greater weight to force Ian onto his back, his hands wrapped around his neck, choking him. Faith raised the gun and fired.

  The bullet hit Mason in the right shoulder, the impact sending
him off Ian and onto the ground. He clutched his shoulder and rolled in agony. Ian staggered to his feet, trying to draw air into his bruised throat.

  “I’ll get you for this,” Mason gasped. His right arm was hanging uselessly at his side; the bullet must have broken a bone.

  Faith ran to Ian, throwing her arms around his waist. Ian grabbed her shoulders and turned her to the horse.

  “If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll hunt you down and make you pay,” Mason growled as he climbed to his feet, still clutching his shoulder.

  Ian mounted and swung Faith up behind him.

  “No matter where you go, you won’t be safe!” Mason was screaming at them now.

  Ian stopped the horse by Mason. “She chooses me,” he said calmly. “If you come after us, I’ll kill you.”

  “You won’t see me coming,” Mason screamed. Ian kicked the gray with his heels and they took off toward the ferry.