Lizzie and the Rebel

by Stephy Smith

  The pungent odor of alcohol and stale tobacco filled the cave in which he held them. Stumbling, the man drew back and punched Frank in the face, sending blood splattering across Lizzie.

  A fury so powerful blazed Lizzie anew as she replayed the rape and brutality the men had inflicted on her family. The fear that had crawled across their faces when her mother refused to cry out or beg them to stop.

  Hatred flew from her body. Face to face, she cringed at the sight of the demon who’d tried to destroy everything, everything except her.

  She glanced at Abel as he sat quietly, cutting away at the ropes holding his arms behind his back. The knife he’d tucked away in the back of his waistband went unnoticed by the cruel eyes of the burly, offensive man.

  Lizzie fought her restraints openly and screamed at the man. Turning his attention on her, he drew his fisted hand and hit her in the cheek. Her head bounced off the rocky cave wall.

  “Shut up.” The trapper’s voice fell raw and harsh. “It’s not your turn yet. I got other plans for you.”

  “You better get on with your plans then.” Lizzie said.

  Still dazed, Frank didn’t understand the need to press the man, but kept his mouth shut. Lizzie understood the smile across Abel’s face as he freed his hands from the restraints.

  “What’s your hurry? You can’t wait for a real man to show you pleasure? That’ll come in due time, little lass.” The trapper’s face paled with anger.

  “You afraid I’ll be disappointed in what you have to offer?” She shot back. “Remember, I have seen what you have downstairs. I wasn’t impressed with it then, and I’m sure it hasn’t changed other than growing wrinkles like the rest of your miserable body.”

  “There’s no sense in taunting the man.” There was defiance in Frank’s voice. “It takes time for some men to work up their ability to obtain pleasure.”

  “I told you to stay out of this.” The trapper drew back his fist, again making contact with Frank’s bruised face.

  “I’d like to watch the impossible task you plan to undertake. I think you have overstepped your bounds this time, trapper.” Frank followed Lizzie’s lead.

  “I don’t think he’s man enough to carry it out. Let me restate by saying, I honestly don’t think he’s a man at all.” Lizzie’s cold stare bore into the eyes of the trapper. “What do you think? Can he get the job done? I’ll lay odds he won’t.”

  “Yore ma thought different by the time I got done with the mangy squaw. She was beggin’ for me to stop.” The hideous laughter vibrated off the cave walls.

  “You don’t fool me, you liar. She scared you spitless because she wouldn’t cry or beg. It was written on your face then and it’s written on your face now.” Lizzie kept her eye on the trapper.

  He paced the cave and tensed with anger. He lunged carelessly at Frank, slamming Frank’s torso into the rocks behind. The air whooshed out of Frank’s lungs from the rib-crushing blow.

  Focused on Lizzie and Frank, the trapper never paid attention to the third person there. The massive trapper shook as the hatred moved to reflect enough for Lizzie to read the signs. He was losing sight of his plan. The stinking trapper was in her face, his fist drawn back to smash it in.

  Lizzie’s glare never left the eyes of the trapper. She braced herself against the impending pain she felt as the man’s rage connected with her chest.

  “You’re getting good at beating a woman with her hands tied behind her back. Are you scared you can’t whip a woman if she wasn’t restrained?” Frank’s eerie voice sounded with the same hatred the trapper showed.

  Attacking Frank, the trapper suddenly whirled around as the knife plunged deep in his evil heart. His eyes widened in terror as he slumped to the cold, rough ground below.

  Abel stared at the body, the blade of the knife in his hand stained crimson. “No more!” His shaky hand pointed the knife at the dead trapper’s body.

  Abel rushed to Frank, cutting his bonds, then whirled to Lizzie to free her. Her heart beat wildly against her shirt as the adrenaline rushed through her veins. “Are you all right?” Abel’s words were slow and measured.

  Reaching to touch his face, Lizzie’s eyes rounded. “You can talk?”

  Abel watched her lips, his brows furrowed. Her lips were swollen and she knew he wasn’t capable of understanding what she said.

  “Frank?” Lizzie crawled to his crumpled body. “Frank, are you all right? Talk to me, Frank. Please talk to me.”

  “Give me a second, Lizzie. That son-of-a-gun broke my ribs.” The broken words slipped from his bleeding lips.

  Abel disappeared from the cave. A few moments later, he returned with the horses the trapper had tied in front. Heaving Frank to his feet and onto the back of his horse with Lizzie’s help, Abel led the horse from the cave.

  Lizzie painfully mounted her horse with the help of their savior. She waited for Abel to mount his, then she led the way down the mountain as the sun peeked over the top.

  With each step of the horses, a few moans and groans escaped the hurting bodies. Lizzie took time to pick out the best, smoothest trail.

  It was slow moving to the bottom of the mountain. The three found the sheriff and a few men with the rustlers lying across blood soaked saddles.

  Lizzie explained the scene in the cave and directed him to it. The sheriff sent two men back to retrieve the trapper. The sheriff and his men, along with Lizzie, Frank, and Abel, rode silently into town.

  “You took a severe beating up there, Lizzie,” Bart said as he gently touched the cut below her eye with the alcohol soaked rag.

  Lizzie flinched at the sting. “How are Frank and Abel? I tried to talk to Abel. I guess my lip is so swollen he couldn’t read my lips.”

  “They’re both sore. Frank has a couple broken ribs, a busted lip, and his eye is swollen shut.” Bart’s concern shook in his deep voice. “Abel is in good shape. He didn’t take the beatings like you and Frank.”

  “Is he going to be all right?” Her concern, genuine as fear, ripped along her shivering spine.

  “Yes, but it will take a couple weeks or more before he walks straight without holding his ribs.” Bart’s brow creased. “Why was Abel practically unharmed?”

  “He had a knife hidden in his waistband. I had to draw attention away from him so he could set us free. Frank must have realized I was up to something and fell in with the taunting tirade. I never meant to get him hurt, Bart. I’m so sorry.”

  Bart closed his arms around her shoulders. “I would have done the same for Hannah. Sometimes people have to do what they can to protect the ones they love.”

  “Can I see Frank?”

  “I’m sure Doc Simpson will let you in there. His mother tried to take over and Simpson kicked her out. She made him nervous. I’ve had to kick her out a time or two when dealing with one of the kids.” The small laughter rose after he spoke.

  Bart put away his bandages. “You may go to your man, young lady.”

  Lizzie ached all over when she rose from the table. Her legs were stiff while she walked across the marbled floor. She spun on her heels and walked back to Bart; she hugged him. “Thanks, Doc.” She wanted nothing more than to run to Frank, but her body wouldn’t allow it.

  The light rap at the door was barely audible. Lizzie poked her head in. “May I come in?”

  “Come on in, Lizzie, but don’t let Hannah in with you.”

  Lizzie stood out of the way so Dr. Simpson could finish with Frank.

  “You look worse than I do.” She glanced down.

  “It took me longer to realize what you were doing taunting that man. I caught Abel’s nod out of the corner of my eye, then I knew.” Frank groaned when he tried to smile. “I don’t remember ever asking for a beating. I’m sure I never asked for one before. Furthermore, I won’t ever ask for another.”

  “You know the saying, ask and you shall receive. Well, I’m glad Abel was there,” Lizzie said. “Did you hear him talk? He talked.”

  “
Mary’s been teaching him to read lips and say a few words. She’s done a good job with him. She put in long hours to teach him. It’s amazing how they’ve adapted,” Doc proudly stated.

  “I didn’t know she could read or write until she told me she taught him to write.” A blush heated Lizzie’s face. Guilt ran its usual course across her skin.

  “They all realized you had your problems. The staff helped Mary. She’s a good teacher. She taught a number of your staff to read, write, and do arithmetic. She is patient and willing to teach others.” Doc peeked under raised brows, but over rimmed glasses at Lizzie. “It wouldn’t take much for Mary to become a school teacher. The town will need one next fall.”

  “I’ll be right back.” Exiting into the hall, she made her way to Mary’s room. She knew what she had to do and dreaded every minute of it.

  Abel and the boys were resting in chairs next to Mary’s bed. The tiny Elizabeth Ruth lay in her loving arms.

  “Would you like to hold her?” The new pride of motherhood sparkled in Mary’s eyes when she peered up at Lizzie.

  “Mary, this is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I’m afraid…” Lizzie paused, and sucked in a deep breath as Doc Simpson wheeled Frank into the room. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to let you go.”

  Mary’s eyes filled with tears. “I don’t understand, Lizzie. I have—”

  Lizzie interrupted Mary and cradled her hand. “I’ve been holding you back, and I’m positive you need to move forward. You’ll be paid handsomely, and I’ll watch the children when you go to take your teaching exam. The town needs a good teacher, and I’ve been informed you’re the best.”

  Mary’s jaw dropped; the tears rolled down her cheeks. “I thought I’d done something bad.” Relief swept over her as she sighed.

  “I’ll give Abel the time off to go with you. Does that sound all right with you?” Lizzie asked, tears stinging her own eyes.

  The affirmative nod conceded Lizzie to hug her friend. “The only thing I ask is you pass that test!” She spun on her heels and left the room before she let her emotions take over. She waited outside the door.

  Lizzie Lizzwheeled Frank’s chair down the hall. Catching Abel’s eye, he said, “Thank you. I owe you.” Abel shook his head no; Frank held out his hand, and Abel took it. Lizzie tapped her foot lightly and waited. “Lizzie, I’m ready to go back to my room.” She pushed the chair to his room and closed the door behind her.

  Frank climbed into the bed. The sobs ripped from Lizzie’s lungs. A slight pull brought her to his chest where he held her convulsing body to his until her breathing steadied in slumber. Then, he, himself, fell asleep.

  Straining against pain, Lizzie made her way to the laundry room. She was surprised to see Mary standing over the washtub.

  “What are you doing in here? I thought I made myself clear last night you no longer work for me.”

  “Look at you, Elizabeth George. You can hardly move. Do you think I’ll let you go without a laundress in the shape you’re in? It’s the least I can do until you find my replacement.” Mary’s challenging eyes dared her to throw her out.

  She waved her arm in the air with a slight grimace. “I’m going to miss having you around to keep the staff in line. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help make things easier on you, or to encourage you to follow your dream.”

  “You were fighting your own demons, Lizzie. I couldn’t intrude with my petty wishes.”

  “They’re not petty! They’re great and rewarding. You worked hard for recognition. All of the staff has, and I failed to see it. For that, I am sorry. Now, get back to work or I’ll fire you again,” Lizzie teased, shuffling out of the room.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Mary, Abel, two excited boys, and a sleeping baby boarded the train. They waved to their friends. Frank’s free arm wrapped around Lizzie’s waist as they watched the train chug out of sight.

  “We need to get this wedding planned. Too much excitement in the city for me.” He glanced at her and she helped him board the carriage.

  “If you remember, my dear,” she steadied her back with her hand, “the excitement of the battle was on the mountain. We were pulled away from the safety of the mansion.”

  Both moved rather slow, not that they were in a hurry to get somewhere. Frank grimaced at every bump and thump. Lizzie didn’t express any major concerns on her own behalf. She would catch herself holding her breath, and scrunched her face when they hit ruts in the road.

  Frank’s eyes lit up when they started down the short drive to the mansion. Lizzie shook her head in silent agreement. Her body ached with every twitch of a muscle. She was positive Frank felt more than she did.

  Lizzie choked back a laugh. She wondered if he realized how important the mission had been to taunt the trapper. Deep down in her heart, she knew that if the situation were to rear its ugly head again, he would do it all over for her and Abel.

  The carriage stopped. With a sigh, they both stepped down.

  Cyrus met Frank and Lizzie at the door. He gave a slight chuckle and shake of his head, and his voice was amused. “I swear, you two conduct yourselves as if you’re older than those mountains out there.”

  “I need to rest and I’ll be good as new,” Frank said. Lizzie knew he lied.

  “Would you like some tea? I’m going to get me a cup.” Lizzie tilted her head and held the back of her neck.

  “No, thank you.” Frank continued on his way to his room. “I’m staying down here for a while. I’m too worn out to climb the stairs.”

  Lizzie imagined how sore he must be. Her body ached and she didn’t want to climb the stairs either. Frank had taken a far worse beating than she had. She scuttled her way to the dining room to slump in a chair.

  Frank’s family sat at the table drinking tea. Lizzie couldn’t pretend she wasn’t in pain as she lowered herself to the chair. She felt all the eyes focused on her.

  “What?” she asked, confused as to what she done this time.

  “We’re waiting to see who your next promotion will be aimed at,” Hannah said. The heads around the table bobbed up and down.

  Lizzie waved at the group. “Do you have someone in mind? I’m fresh out of ideas. By the way, how’s the new girl working out? Has she said anything about why she was on the streets?”

  “Not to any of us,” Jean said. “She’s tighter lipped than a sprung trap.”

  Polly marched into the dining room and threw down her dishrag. She plopped into a chair. Her eyes narrowed, and the disgusted look on her face worried Lizzie.

  “What’s the matter, Polly? Do you need help in the kitchen?” Lizzie touched Polly’s arm.

  “I need that chatterbox to shut up. She’s going to drive me to partaking in strong spirits. I’m not talking heavenly spirits either.” Polly nodded her head over her shoulder.

  “Tell us what you know.” Betty’s eyes and ears opened to all gossip.

  “That girl, she was a soiled dove. Can you imagine that? Of all things, Lizzie, you bring us a soiled dove. Not to mention, her lover man dropped her off and left town. She would kill him if she could get her hands on him. She’s only fifteen! When she told him her age, he packed his things and left her stranded here.” With a pause, Polly fanned herself with the rag.

  “What else has she told you?” Betty’s eyes widened and she leaned further over the table.

  “She’s from somewhere on the east coast. That girl has a gruesome mind in her head—describing every detail and body part you can imagine a man having. Yes sir, she could curl the hair on a horse’s tail with all the talk about what she would do to those parts.” Polly shuddered and clenched her eyes shut.

  Lizzie sat in silence. She covered her grin with one hand. Jean, Harvey, Bart, and Hannah stifled their amusement at Polly’s dramatic display. Betty leaned into the table.

  “What did she say she would do to those parts?” Betty’s eyes glimmered with curiosity.

  “That’s not the kind of talk a lady indulges
in, Betty, or not proper women anyway.” Polly snatched up the dishrag and haughtily strutted back to the kitchen. No one laughed until she was out of hearing range. Then everyone burst into giggles. They tried to keep their amusement at a low roar.

  “I need help,” Lizzie confessed after the laughter died down. All eyes glanced to her in confusion and wonderment. “I don’t know a thing about weddings. I’ve never been to one.”

  The room echoed with the sound of sighs.

  “I see your dilemma. This is an easy problem to fix,” Hannah said. “I’ve done more than my share. I would love to help you.”

  Jean and Betty both expressed their desires to help make arrangements.

  Polly stepped into the room with a rolling pin in her hand. She slumped in the chair. Lizzie fought the urge to grab the rolling pin before Polly used it on the new girl. Her muscles begged and pleaded for her not to make any sudden, stupid moves they would have to pay for later.

  “Polly, would you plan the wedding meal and reception?” Hannah tossed her way.

  “I sure will,” she said, glancing over her shoulder. “I have to do something to keep from killing that little beast.”

  Polly returned to the kitchen, then back to the table with pencil and paper in hand. She slammed them down on the table and took a deep breath.

  “Jean, you and Harvey are in charge of decorations. Betty, you and Elijah are responsible for invitations and delivery of them,” Hannah ordered. “Where do you want the wedding held? When and what time?”

  “How many rooms are still filled with patients?” Lizzie asked.

  “Priorities first, my impatient child. Don’t go changing the subject on us.” Hannah shook a finger at her.

  “Will they be able to attend if it’s outdoors?” she inquired of the two doctors.

  “Yes, they’re progressing well and should be able to be moved outdoors, so long as the weather is fairly cooperative,” Bart and Doc agreed.