Racing across the fields to his aunt’s home, he started planning. First he needed a horse. Next, he wanted to speak with the sheriff. After the trouble with Ralph on Sunday and again last night, he wanted the law with him when he asked Stinson any questions.
Even though he was in a hurry, he had the presence of mind to stop at various sites along the trail. Stepping into the stand of trees where only yesterday he’d fought with Ram, he called Zelly’s name. Hearing no response and seeing nothing, he continued on his way.
Even before he reached the house, Hart was yelling for his aunt and uncle. Coming out of the barn, his uncle rushed to him with Sven and Lars close on his heels. Tante Greta hurried out the back of the house with a slam of the screen door.
“What on earth ails you Hart?” She wiped her hands on her apron, which was already stained by many chores that day, and waited for his explanation.
Hart gulped in air. After his run to the farm, he bent over with his hands on his knees. Once he regained breath enough to explain, he issued clipped orders.
“Zelly’s missing. I need a horse. Got to ride to the sheriff.” Again, he paused for a breath of air before he explained further. His uncle didn’t wait and was already headed to the barn for a horse.
While Hart waited for the horse, he shared the information he’d learned, including about the sale of the Fuller home to Mueller. He knew his aunt would pass it on to her husband.
Also, Hart asked her to have Elias visit neighboring farms, to ask after Zelly. There was always the offhand chance Stinson really hadn’t taken her away in that wagon.
When Mr. Hoffman emerged from the barn, he was leading two horses rather than one. A good man to have in a crisis, he was ready to help.
Counting on Tante Greta to relay his request, Hart merely nodded to his uncle and quickly seated himself on the horse. Wheeling the horse around toward town, Hart urged it into a gallop.
Praise you Lord that we are so close to town! Please Father, in the name of Jesus, let the sheriff be in his office!
On the short trip to the jail where last night he sat praying for justice, Hart also prayed for deliverance for Zelly. God had heard and delivered him last night. He trusted for quick answers to his prayer today as well.
Rushing into the jail, he yelled for Sheriff Redmond. A man stood up from behind the sheriff’s desk, but it wasn’t who Hart hoped to see.
Deputy Sittig stood with a concerned expression on his round face. “What’s amiss Mr. Bahr?”
Recounting the details of Zelly’s disappearance, Hart studied the deputy’s face as he spoke. He knew this man’s brother called both Ram and Ralph friends.
Still, his features gave the impression of being troubled as well as surprised by what he heard. This assured him that the deputy didn’t know anything about Zelly’s disappearance prior to Hart sharing the details.
“Please go with me to Ralph Stinson’s rooms and ask him about what or who he was hauling. I need to know if he had Zelly in the wagon.” Though Hart wanted his voice to be firm and commanding, worry made him almost beg Deputy Sittig for his help.
“Sure, but I doubt he’s at his rooms. More likely already drinking somewhere.” The deputy looked almost embarrassed as he admitted, “I heard about that bet and kind of laughed when I learned about those two boys’ attempts to take that girl.”
“Suppose I should have done something, bein’ the law and all.” The deputy hung his head and looked at his hands as he admitted that to Hart.
Fists clenched, Hart breathed deeply to control his anger. “We can’t do anything about that. Now I need to find Zelly.”
A thought came to Hart. “I’m wondering if Manny might know a thing or two about it. What do you think deputy?” He looked toward Sittig for his input. “Who do we talk with first?
“Well, now, I heard tell Strong got rid of you today so I wouldn’t want you goin’ over to his house. Let’s find Ralph. If we don’t learn what we need, I’ll talk to Manny myself or get the sheriff back in to help us.”
With the skeleton of a plan formed, the two set off for Meyer’s Biergarten, Ralph’s favorite drinking hole. They stepped through the door and immediately saw him standing amongst a group of seated young men which included the deputy’s brother. He swung a mug widely as he told some story.
Hart expected the deputy to pull Ralph outside to speak with him. Instead he called for his brother Carl to move outside with them.
Carl left his decorated stein on the table, knowing it would be there for him. Many German men brought their own mugs with them to the tavern so they didn’t lose their drinks.
“What…” As Carl tried to form a sentence, his brother shoved him against the outside of the tavern.
“Tell us what’s happened to Zelda Fuller. What has Ralph said? I saw him braggin’ in there.”
No brotherly favoritism here to worry about.
“I won’t betray.…” Red in the face now, Carl couldn’t speak since his brother’s hand was squeezing off his words.
“Yesterday, I laughed when I heard about that bet those two skunks made. Now a woman’s going to be hurt because of your rotten friend.” He let go of Carl’s throat and started shaking him.
“Knock it off! I don’t know anything except he,” Carl paused to pull in air through his bruised throat, “hauled her into town, he said.” Carl started inching away from his brother who grabbed him and shoved him against the wall again.
“Leave off Fred. All I know is the bet is off and Ralph said he delivered up a big favor to Ram.” Carl rubbed the front of his neck and scowled. “Somehow Shirleen’s involved. Let me alone and go talk to her, you no good...”
“Watch what you’re saying, little boy!” The deputy pushed Carl toward the entrance and signaled for Hart to follow him.
“I’m thinking we won’t need to bother Manny. Shirleen might just be the key to our mystery.”
In such a small town, it didn’t take long for them to arrive at the feed store. Though Hart hadn’t known of the location of Shirleen Gunderson’s home, Deputy Sittig headed directly to her rented rooms above the feed store. Using a set of stairs built at the back of the building, they climbed up to the apartment.
Rather than knock on the door, Deputy Sittig and Hart peered in a window to the left of the door. An oil lamp glowing inside made it easy to see Zelly lying on a sofa. Bound by what looked like binding twine, she struggled against the ropes.
She wasn’t alone!
Hart roared as Ram ripped open her white night dress above the ropes wound around her torso. At the noise from Hart, Ram whirled toward the door.
Events happened quickly then. Deputy Sittig opened the locked door with a powerful kick and both rushed in. Sittig grabbed Ram before he could rush from the room.
Falling to his knees beside the sofa, Hart removed the bandana that had been tied behind Zelly’s head. Then he cradled her face in his hands and tenderly kissed her forehead.
“I’ve got you. You’re safe now.” He pulled the ripped fabric back into place, covering her chest. In covering her, he hoped she would be reassured.
Working with increasing frustration at the twine bindings, Hart couldn’t manage to untie the knots that restrained her slim, beautiful ankles and arms. At the sight of abrasions on her tender skin, he mentally counted to ten and focused on the needy woman in front of him.
Focus on her. Let the anger go so you can be tender.
He searched through Shirleen’s sparse kitchen but didn’t find a sharp enough knife to cut the twine. While attempting to saw through the rope, Hart startled at a gasp from the doorway.
Shirleen moved as if she meant to leave again. However, Hart halted her with a deep, commanding “Stay here.”
Fear and guilt filled her gaunt, painted face. She neither moved and nor commented.
“From the look on your face, I’m guessing you know why my girl is tied up on your sofa.” Hart decided now was not the time to question her. That was for the sher
iff anyhow. He remained intent on taking his love out of there.
“Do you have a better knife to cut the twine? I need to get her to the doc.”
Shirleen simply stared at him for a moment with a stunned look on her face, perhaps because he wasn’t asking her about her involvement. Then she moved silently to a closet and, after briefly rummaging through it, withdrew a hunting knife.
“My father’s,” she said in a flat tone.
Now that he had a larger knife, he easily removed the cords that bound her ankles. Hart stood Zelly on her feet. Seeing her sway, he scooped her up into his arms and left both Shirleen and her apartment behind.
Holding her close to him eased the remainder of the panic he’d been experiencing since he’d realized that Zelly was missing. Thank you God we weren’t dealing with clever criminals. You’ve returned her to me and I praise you for it.
Zelly burrowed her nose into Hart’s chest and hid her face as he walked through the dusk darkened street to the home of Doc Weber. The light that glowed from the windows of the doctor’s gave Hart hope that the doctor was home that evening with his wife.
A sharp rap on the door was quickly answered by Mrs. Weber. Seeing Zelly in Hart’s arms, she gestured them inside without asking any questions, calling over her shoulder for the doctor.
Doc Weber had been the only physician in Idyll Wood for as long as Zelly had been alive. Though she rarely saw him, he still knew her and solicitously set about cleaning the wounds left by the ropes as well as the scratches on her breasts that she revealed to him. While the doctor had encouraged Hart to wait in another room, Zelly clung to his hand tightly so he stayed with her.
“Were you touched anywhere else?” The doctor didn’t directly ask, yet Hart knew he was wondering if Zelly had been interfered with sexually. His face flamed at the image of Ram hurting Zelly in the way the doctor was implying.
“We got there before he did anymore. Her arms and legs were tied tightly.” Hart answered for her since he saw confusion on her face at the doctor’s question.
“I’ve been hearing things around town. Sounds like you’ve had a rough couple of days Miss Zelly. Shall I send a little laudanum with you to be sure you sleep tonight and so you won’t hurt after being tied for so long?”
Not say anything, Zelly merely shrugged in response. The doctor looked to Hart who nodded. He walked to a cabinet and took out a small, dark bottle and gave it over to Hart’s care.
After asking her if she wanted to walk, Hart guided Zelly out of the doctor’s office and over to the jail. Once inside, he saw that the sheriff had joined the deputy.
With the deputy still there, he hoped Mr. Strong’s influence would not keep his boy out of a jail cell.
“Do you need anything from Zelly or me tonight?” Hart had seated Zelly before asking that question. The sheriff looked down at her, a wilted flower of a girl, and nodded his head.
He seated himself behind his desk and looked into Zelly’s face. “How’d you end up in that apartment Miss Fuller?”
“I’m not sure sheriff. I woke gagged and felt myself being tied up early this morning. I think I was still in my bed. Something covered my head, you see, so I don’t really know.” She shook her head to emphasize her confusion. Hart picked up her hand to hold it.
“The covering remained on my head until Ram pulled whatever it was off of me in that apartment.” A visible shudder ran through Zelly and Hart squeezed the hand he held, hoping to comfort her.
“Did you recognize any voices during the day?”
She thought for a moment. “I heard Ralph Stinson. From the words, it sounded to me like he spoke to the horses as he drove me in. And later he and a woman talked. I didn’t recognize her. Sorry.”
“No, you’re doing just fine Miss Fuller. I’ve got both Ralph Stinson and Ephraim Strong in the cells. I’m pretty sure I know who the woman is. You go on home before Mr. Strong shows up here to raise a ruckus.”
They exited the jail, Hart’s arm around Zelly’s slumped shoulders. Hart’s horse stood tied outside of it, left there hours before when he’d arrived to frantically ask for help in finding her. He boosted her into the saddle. “I’m climbing up behind. You’ll have to sit on my lap.”
Hart put his arms around her so he could place his hands on the saddle horn and cantle. Levering himself into the saddle, he sat mostly on the cantle to give Zelly space.
After they were headed out of town, she gave a sigh. Whether it had been a sigh of relief or pleasure, he couldn’t tell. It didn’t matter since she was safe. He hoped he would have a lifetime to learn what her different sighs meant.
Hearing her sigh made him feel better, as if a load of rocks had rolled off of his back. He eased more fully into the saddle and pulled her against his chest. Her head fitted itself between his chin and his shoulders and she cuddled, almost childlike, into his warmth. She was so touchable. He enjoyed the warmth that always filled him whenever they met skin to skin.
“You know I want to be there to always rescue you Zelly. Even knowing this wasn’t the right time to talk about it, he found it impossible not to mention a future for them.
“Hart Bahr! I sure hope there’s no more rescuing needed. Three times should be the limit!” He detected a mixture of humor and a sort of desperate sob in her tone. She’d experienced a rough few days and he wouldn’t blame her if she was coming to the end of the tether that held her emotions in check.
“It won’t bother me if you need to cry Zelly. Just get my shirt as wet as you need to.” He wanted to be the one to comfort her.
She didn’t respond like he expected though. Instead of crying, she pulled her head away from him and glared. “You may be my rescuer, but that doesn’t mean I’m some simpleton who’s going to come apart.
I’m starting to see I’m stronger, better somehow, than I thought.”
Here she turned her gaze up to meet his eyes. “If I don’t miss my guess, you might have a lot to do with that.”
She might feel stronger, but she still needs rescuing from one specific person—her mother.
Chapter 9
“I’m leaving in a few days, Zelly.” Here he paused. She held her breath and wouldn’t look at him. How would she manage day after day with both Hart and Rebecca gone? Rebecca took the joy of a good friend with her when she’d left. Hart would leave with her whole heart, she suspected.
Hart brought her to her home against his better judgment, he’d said. He insisted he should take her directly to his aunt. Zelly resisted, declaring they needed to let her mother know she was safe.
They’d found Mrs. Fuller in the parlor, stuffing knickknacks into a small trunk. Though she looked surprised to see Zelly, she stopped her packing and retreated quickly to her bedroom without saying a word.
She looked at Hart and shrugged. “At least she saw that I’m safe.” She walked away from him and into a room next to the one where Ada Fuller now hid.
Perhaps following her into her bedroom was inappropriate and she certainly hadn’t invited him. Still, Hart seemed so unsettled still by her disappearance, as if he couldn’t let her out of his sight. Without asking for permission, he came with her when she told him of her plans to gather a few things and let him take her to his aunt after all.
Why should I stay here? Mother won’t even look at me, much less talk to me.
“Please marry me and come with me.” Her head snapped up and she stared in surprise.
“I…I…I can’t. I just know I shouldn’t.” Tears she didn’t shed earlier began first to trace down her cheeks and then poured in torrents. She had to do the right thing and reject him, didn’t she?
Instead of stepping away from her after she turned down his proposal, he hugged her tightly to him. She snuggled into the warmth. If only there she could store up this feeling, then she could experience the warmth after he left town.
“Tell me why. I love you Zelly. Don’t turn me down because you want love.” Here he put her slightly from him so he could loo
k into her face. “I have wanted to marry you for some time. I think I’ve loved you the whole five years I’ve spent waiting for you to let me get closer. ”
How can I be sure I love him?
Having grown up in a home with no father and no love from her mother, she couldn’t be sure if she loved Hart. She did know that he would take all her hope for the future when he left.
“It…it’s not about love,” she gasped out between sobs. Why did she spend so much time crying around Hart? She typically never cried and despised this weakness she developed in the last week.
By his silence she knew he waited for her to explain further. Inhaling a deep breath, she forced herself to continue. “It’s the type of person I am. Not decent like others. After all, look at what happened today.” She averted her face when she said those words.
She dreaded seeing the comprehension on his face when he understood. He shocked her when he asked, “What makes you not decent? I don’t understand. And nothing that happened today was your fault!”
“I can’t say the word,” she whispered so softly that she realized Hart leaned forward to be able to hear her. She raised her voice a bit more. “It has to do with my parents.”
“Why does it have to do with your parents?” His voice fairly dripped with confusion now. “I know your mother’s not very pleasant, but that shouldn’t…”
In her agitation at the topic, she cut him off with an abrupt shake of her head. “No, it isn’t about Ma’am’s nastiness. I’m not even sure what it is about.” She imagined Hart must have seen her confusion because he wrapped her in his arms again.
“Why do you say you’re not decent if you don’t know why?” His tone was gentle yet prodding. She sensed he wanted her to say it was ridiculous. After hearing her mother’s words for so many years, she found it hard to simply dismiss them or the idea about herself her mother had shaped.
She didn’t want to disappoint him, though. She lifted her shoulders in a small shrug and clung to him. What could she say?
Hart's Longing (Secrets In Idyll Wood Book 1) Page 7
