Rapture's Tempest

by Bobbi Smith

  Sam nodded, as he walked with Wade from the bedroom. Sarah had been sitting at the kitchen table, and she looked up in surprise when they came into the room.

  “Sam…you aren’t supposed to be up!” She stood and came to him.

  “I know, but this is important. I have to get back as soon as possible.”

  “It is urgent, Mrs. Webb,” Wade added.

  “Thank you for everything. I’ll keep in touch,” Sam said, as he swayed on his feet, his expression grim.

  “I’ve got to get him out to the carriage, ma’am. Thank you for taking such good care of him.” Wade supported more of Sam’s weight as they started quickly out the door. “Good-bye.”

  Sarah watched them go with a heavy heart. She had thought she’d have more time with him, but it was not to be. As the major helped Sam into the carriage, she turned away and closed the door.

  “Sit quietly, Wallace. We don’t want to draw any undue attention to ourselves.” Wade climbed in beside him.

  Sam glared at him, but wisely made no foolish moves. And Wade, instead of starting back toward town, headed off farther down the river road.

  The little house looked peaceful and quiet as Jim, Mark, and Marshall rode up in front. They had made the trip out from town in record time and were excited at the prospect of their meeting with Sam.

  “This is it.” Mark hurried on ahead of them and knocked on the door.

  Danny, who’d returned from town, answered it. “Who are you? What do you want?”

  “I’m Captain Mark Clayton, and I’m here to see Sam Wallace,” Mark informed him.

  “He’s gone already,” Danny said, as he started to close the door.

  “Wait a minute. What do you mean, he’s gone? You just brought a note to the Westlake house from him saying that he was staying here,” Mark argued as Jim and Marshall joined him.

  “Well, he isn’t anymore.”

  “Danny? Who are you talking to?” Sarah heard the sound of voices and came to see who was at her door. “I’m Mrs. Webb. Can I help you gentlemen with something?”

  “I’m Marshall Westlake, ma’am. I just received a note from Sam Wallace that said he was here.”

  “He was, but you just missed him.”

  Mark frowned. “Missed him? What do you mean?”

  “Who are you?”

  “I’m Captain Mark Clayton.”

  “But the other soldier said that you were out of town for the day and that was why he’d come for Sam…”

  “What other soldier?” Jim asked quickly.

  “The one from the quartermaster’s office where Danny delivered the note Sam had written to you.”

  “Sam wrote a note to me?” Mark questioned.

  “Yes, and one to Mr. Westlake, too. And then, just a short time ago, that major showed up and took Sam back into town to a hospital.”

  “Major? What was his name? Do you remember?”

  “MacIntosh,” she replied.

  “It was Wade…” Mark cursed under his breath. “Is there another road back to town besides this one?”

  “Why, no…why do you ask?”

  “Because we didn’t pass them on the way here.”

  “How long ago did they leave?”

  “No more than ten minutes…why? Is Sam in some kind of trouble?”

  “It looks that way,” Jim told her grimly as they prepared to leave.

  “Can I help?” She offered as they turned to rush back to their horses.

  “No, ma’am. This is likely to be dangerous,” Mark explained, mounting up.

  “You find him!” she called as Jim drove off at breakneck speed.

  “We will.” came his answer.

  Wade pulled his coach off onto a rutted side road and tied up in a heavily wooded area. Climbing down, he drew his pistol and waved Sam out of the carriage.

  “Let’s go.” He pointed a way through the underbrush. “Walk.”

  Sam staggered forward, barely able to stay upright. He knew he had to save himself…there would be no one coming to the rescue. Looking around, he nervously searched for something he could use to defend himself against Wade, but it was no use, for he had little strength left. Stumbling, he fell, landing on his hands and knees on top of a rotted tree trunk.

  Wade followed behind him, confident that he’d have no problems this time. He’d just take him a little deeper in the woods and shoot him. When Sam fell, Wade automatically stepped toward him to grab his arm and pull him upright.

  It was at that moment that Sam struck. With a piece of rotten wood from the tree trunk, he swung upward and sideways with all the force he could muster, catching Wade unawares and knocking him to the ground.

  Wade’s gun went off as it flew from his hand, and Sam scrambled away, trying to get back to the carriage. Wade was stunned but unhurt by the sudden unexpected attack. Getting to his feet, he searched for and found his pistol and then gave chase, running at top speed through the prickly underbrush after the faltering Sam.

  Mark and Marshall, who had galloped far ahead of Jim, heard the shot and hoped that they were not too late.

  “You take the road…I’ll cut through the brush,” Mark ordered, and Marshall quickly complied.

  Turning his horse off the road, Mark spurred it on through the dense undergrowth in the direction of the shot, as Marshall followed the rutted side road.

  Sam groped his way forward, his breathing labored, his strength about gone. Desperation was all that drove him, and he lurched ever onward, trying to escape certain death at Macintosh’s hands. He could hear Wade gaining on him, and he knew he had little time…

  Wade was chasing after him with relative ease. Sam was in no condition to camouflage his movements, and Wade could hear him moving through the bushes. Keeping his gun ready, he followed him, waiting for the first moment when he’d have a clear shot.

  Sam staggered out into a small open field and stood, swaying, as he looked around. He had lost all sense of direction since he’d fled from Wade, and now he wasn’t sure which way to go. Knowing that he had to get under some kind of cover, he skirted the clearing, staying near its edge in hopes of avoiding his pursuer.

  Wade smiled as he watched Sam’s pitiful attempt to escape him. He had him, now, of that there could be no doubt. With a cool hand, he raised the revolver and aimed, his finger slowly squeezing the trigger.

  Mark’s mount burst forth into the field, startling Wade just as he fired, and the shot went off target, missing Sam, who dove quickly into the woods to escape another shot.

  Mark glanced in Sam’s direction, “Are you all right?”

  “Yes…” Sam called, hiding behind some trees.

  “Good. Stay there.” Mark immediately raced toward Wade.

  Wade drew a bead on Mark and fired, but Mark slipped lower in the saddle and the bullet whizzed harmlessly past.

  Realizing that he had to get back to his carriage, Wade took off at a run, staying in the densest brush to keep Mark’s horse at bay. Crashing hurriedly through the weeds, the hunter became the hunted. Terror took him, and he knew the fear of being trapped. His only hope was to get away in the carriage…but even so, Mark would easily be able to overtake him on horse back. He had to shoot his way out. There was no alternative.

  “Hold it, Major,” Mark called.

  But Wade ran on, ignoring his warning. Hiding behind a tree, he shot hurriedly at Mark, not taking the time to aim, and again he missed. Turning, he ran on, dodging behind trees and what ever other cover he could find, until, at last, he made it back to the road.

  Jim was pulling up next to where Marshall waited, just as Wade emerged from the forest. In one last, wild attempt to get away, Wade fired off two rounds in their direction, as they dove for cover, before running for his carriage. He never made it.

  With slow precision, Mark pulled the trigger as Wade made his final desperate lunge for the vehicle. The bullet caught Wade in the shoulder, yet still he struggled on, firing in both directions until Mark’s second shot
found its target and he pitched forward into the dirt and lay still.

  Mark rode forward slowly and dismounted, his gun still in hand. “Are you hurt?”

  “No,” Jim and Marshall responded together as they stood up and moved closer.

  “Is he dead?” Jim asked as Mark leaned over him.

  “Yes.” Mark’s voice was flat as he checked him.

  “Where’s Sam? Was he hurt?”

  “He’s back in the woods by the field. We got here just in time,” Mark said, breathing a little more easy.

  “I’ll go back for him.” Marshall rode back in the direction that he had just come from while Jim helped Mark lift Wade’s lifeless body into the carriage.

  He found the clearing without any difficulty. “Sam! It’s Marshall Westlake. You can come out. We’ve caught MacIntosh!”

  Sam crept from his hiding place just beyond the wood’s edge, cautiously. “I’m over here,” he managed.

  Marshall rode quickly to him and gave him a hand up behind him.

  “Thank you.” Sam was grateful. “If you hadn’t shown up when you did…”

  “I know…we were lucky that we got here in time,” Marshall told him as they came out of the forest where Jim and Mark awaited them.

  “Sam!” Mark helped him down. “Thank God you’re alive!”

  Sam gave him a weak grin. “I couldn’t agree with you more.”

  “I think you’ve got a lot to tell us.” Jim urged.

  He nodded. “I do.”

  “Are you up to talking?” Mark asked.

  “I’m more than ready.” Sam was anxious to tell them everything. “Where do you want me to start?”

  “How did Wade find out about you?” Jim was curious.

  “I must have made some noise in the bushes.”

  “Bushes? What bushes?”

  “I had followed him to a meeting at Nathan Morgan’s house, and I was listening outside a window. He took me by surprise, and the next thing I knew I was tied and blindfolded. MacIntosh took me down on the river somewhere. He asked me what I had been doing there, and, after I told him, he hit me over the head. That’s the last thing I remember until I woke up at Sarah’s.”

  “What kind of a meeting was it?” Mark asked.

  “It was them…All of them. And they knew exactly when the gold was being shipped.”

  Jim had been stunned at the mention of Nathan Morgan’s name. “The meeting was at Morgan’s house?”

  “Yes,” Sam confirmed.

  He knew then, with an almost sickening certainty, that he’d been used, and it filled him with righteous anger. “What about his daughter, Annabelle?”

  “She was there.”

  “Damn!” he swore viciously. “And she almost got away with it, too!”

  “It’s a good thing Delight came along when she did, or you’d still be engaged to Annabelle,” Marshall remarked.

  “Yes, but Annabelle was just at the house…” Mark put in.

  “We’d better get back to town and go after her right now. I don’t know if she heard us when we read Sam’s note, but if she did then she’s had time enough to try to get away.” Jim was ready to leave.

  “First, we need the rest of the names of those involved. If we go after the Morgans without knowing who else helped in the plotting, they’ll disappear without a trace before we can get to them.” Mark’s words stopped Jim. “If we do this right, we can synchronize our movements and arrest everybody at the same time.”

  Jim waited as Sam told them all he remembered. He did not like the idea that he’d been played for a fool. Allowing his thoughts to drift back over the time he’d shared with Anna-belle, he realized that she had been subtly trying to get information out of him by using the pretext that she wanted to know how long he’d be in town. What a consummate actress she was…and no wonder she’d slapped him that day he’d broken off their engagement. He grinned as he thought of how thoroughly he’d ruined their plans by ending the betrothal.

  It must have been shortly after that that Martin Montgomery had entered the picture, Jim deduced. He had been jealous and had wanted to get rid of him, so he could have Delight for himself. What better way than to provide information about his shipments to the sympathizers? Martin, undoubtedly, had figured that Jim would be killed in the attack, and his own problems would be solved.

  “Let’s go,” Mark was saying as Sam finished. “Do you want to split up?”

  “Yes,” Jim said, without hesitation. “There’s no time to waste.”

  “All right. You and Marshall go after Annabelle and Nathan, while I go to General Fields with my proof.”

  “Fine.”

  “You’ll need guns.”

  “We can stop at the house before we go to the Morgans’, and Sam can stay there.”

  “Good. We’ll meet at headquarters later.” Mark was ready to set his plan into action.

  Chapter Forty-two

  Annabelle rushed into the house and slammed the door behind her. “Father!”

  She sounded hysterical, and Nathan hurried into the hallway to see what was the matter. “Annabelle, darling, what’s wrong?”

  “We’ve got to get out of here now!” she cried, running down the hall to him. “They know!”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I was over at the Westlakes’…you know, I went to pay my respects….”

  “Yes, so?”

  “So, while I was there they received a message from Sam Wallace!” Her eyes were wide with fright.

  “Sam Wallace? But I thought Wade killed him!”

  “I did, too, but the note said that he was alive. They’re on their way to see him…we can’t stay here! They’ll be coming for us next!”

  “Damn! How could Wade have bungled it so badly? It’s not like him to be so careless,” Nathan said angrily.

  “Who cares what Wade did or did not do! We’ve got to think of our own safety now!” Annabelle was shaking as she thought of being captured and put in prison.

  “All right. Now calm down.”

  “Calm down?” She looked at Nathan aghast. “We’re about to be caught and thrown into jail and all you can say is ‘calm down’?”

  “My dear.” He took a deep breath and then spoke slowly. “There is no need for you to panic. Did you think that I was so ineffectual that I wouldn’t have a plan, just in case something unfortunate like this should happen?”

  “You have a plan?”

  “I most certainly do. You go on upstairs and put on some traveling clothes…something that won’t draw attention to you. You may take one bag with you, but, remember, we’ll be traveling light.”

  “Yes, Father. Thank you.” Annabelle was relieved and she started upstairs feeling much more in control.

  Nathan went back into his study and began methodically destroying all of his important papers. When he’d finished, he got all of his ready cash out of the wall safe and then went to his room to pack.

  Within a half an hour, they were all set to leave. After helping Annabelle into the carriage, he took up the reins himself. She sat back, tense and on edge while he drove, but when he turned in the direction of the quartermaster’s office Annabelle grabbed at his arm.

  “What are you doing?” she hissed.

  “I’m going to stop by and see if Wade’s here.”

  “That’s crazy! Do you want to get yourself killed?”

  “No. But I don’t want Wade to get killed, either. He’s done a lot for us, and we owe him.”

  Annabelle thought her father had surely lost his mind, but she held her tongue.

  “Be careful,” she told him quietly as he pulled to a stop in front of the office.

  “I will be. Don’t worry.” He climbed down. “Wait here for me. I won’t be long.”

  Annabelle nodded and sat back, not wanting anyone to see her, but watched carefully while Nathan casually entered the office in search of Wade.

  “Excuse me.” He approached the corporal sitting at the fr
ont desk.

  “Yes, sir. What can I do for you?”

  “I’m looking for Major MacIntosh. Is he here?”

  “I’ll check for you. Just a minute.” The soldier went off in search of Wade, leaving Nathan to cool his heels.

  Though his manner didn’t reflect it, Nathan was upset by the entire situation, and the long minutes that he spent awaiting the man’s return did little to ease his anxiety.

  Annabelle wanted to scream. Where was her father? And where was Wade? She’d been sitting there for over ten minutes and there was no sign of either one. Her instincts told her to run, far and fast, but she knew she couldn’t leave without her father. Maintaining what little control she had, she waited, frightened and frustrated.

  “I’m sorry I took so long, sir,” the corporal told Nathan as he came back to his desk. “I thought the major was in a meeting, but I was mistaken. It seems he left on an errand for Captain Clayton some time ago, and he’s not expected back until much later this afternoon.”

  “Thank you.” Nathan said curtly, furious that he’d been detained so long. Leaving the office as calmly as possible, he climbed back into the carriage with Annabelle.

  “Well? Where’s Wade?” she demanded as he took up the reins again.

  “He’s gone.”

  “Gone? You mean he’s left town?” Annabelle said, aghast.

  “No. No, nothing like that. The man I talked to said that he was on an ‘errand’ for Captain Clayton.”

  “For Mark? What could he possibly be doing for Mark Clayton?”

  “I don’t know, but we’re not going to wait around here to find out.”

  “Did you leave a message for him?”

  “No. I don’t want it known that we have been here.”

  Annabelle nodded. “Where are we going now?”

  “We are going on a voyage, my dear.”

  Nathan drove straight to the offices of Mid-Rivers Steamship Company and again bade Annabelle wait in the carriage. Disappearing inside, he was gone only a few minutes before he came back outside with Micah Abernathy.

  “Annabelle. It’s good to see you.” Micah was cordial, but nervous. “We’ll have you and your father taken care of shortly. You’ll be booked under the names of John White and wife.”