But regrets would only slow him down, and he couldn’t afford that. And he couldn’t regret kissing Maude and letting her know he loved her, and learning that she felt the same way.
What would they do if he couldn’t find Hannah and Juana for her? He was afraid the sorrow could destroy her.
Dear God, he prayed. Please help me find them! Not for my sake, for I don’t deserve anything good from You, but for Maude’s sake. Maude was likely praying now, even as she nursed Hector and watched over his mother.
Then he remembered the words from the Bible, read so long ago— And I say unto you, Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock , and it shall be opened unto you...
Were those words meant for him? Why would the Lord bother to speak to him, when he had attacked his father with murder in his heart?
But he wasn’t going to find them without all-powerful help. He had to believe God was willing to help him, even if it was more for Maude’s, Juana’s and the child’s sake than for his.
Lord, I’m sorry for the awful things I did so many years ago. If You’ll just forgive me, and enable me to find Hannah and Juana, I’ll do whatever You ask of me the rest of my life. I’ll go back to Scotland if You wish it and pay the price for our crime, if You’ll just save Hannah and Juana for Maude.
He hadn’t expected the peace that washed over him then. There was no guarantee, no heavenly voice promising the ones they sought would be found safely. It was peace in spite of circumstances.
“We’ll cross the Colorado when we come to it, then ride east until we hit Lampasas. Once we’re there, we’ll rest the horses and ourselves after we check the hotel there and every place that scoundrel could possibly hole up with a woman and child,” he called to the others.
But would Renz, with his perpetual lack of funds, choose a hotel, or would he try to find a cruder, but free, shelter? Would he even choose to spend the night out in the open, in a field somewhere? He thanked God that it rarely got down to freezing in this part of Texas, for Juana’s and Hannah’s sake, but it was still too cold at night for anyone but a thoughtless madman to have a baby outside overnight.
“But keep a sharp eye out for campfires—we’ll check any we see. Watch for places they could use for shelter, too—overhanging rocks, abandoned cabins. How far are we from the Colorado do ye reckon, Calloway?”
“’Bout another mile or two, I’d say.”
“The ferryman better be willing to take us across, or we’ll operate the ferry for ourselves,” he growled. Not for the first time, Jonas felt the doubts creep over him—that he’d chosen the right route, and that he’d find Hannah and Juana safe. But he still felt that sense of peace inside him at the thought of heading this way. He’d have to trust it—there was no other option.
He hadn’t known of the bridge over the Colorado washing out, and if he hadn’t known, there was an excellent chance Renz wouldn’t, either.
They rode on, and Jonas kept peering ahead, hoping the fitful half moon would reveal the river ahead of them soon. He ordered the men to silence, remembering the warning that the ferry’s owner didn’t like making a crossing at night. There was a chance that Renz might still be on this side of the Colorado, and if so, he didn’t want to alert the man. Though even a fool like Renz would hear the pounding of approaching horses’ hooves if he was careful enough to listen.
And then, there it was ahead of them, a silver ribbon of water. When the horses paused, he could hear its gurgling song.
“That there’s the ferryman’s shack,” Calloway called softly, pointing at a hulking mass on the bank that Jonas had missed on his first quick visual survey of the area.
“I believe I’ll pay him a call and find out if he’s seen our quarry,” Jonas remarked. “Wait here, and be ready for anything.”
“If he has, he probably sent ’em away and told ’em not to bother him till morning,” someone said. “That ol’ man don’t like gettin’ outa his bed at night for anything, as I recall. Be careful, boss.”
“There’s horses tied up, yonder,” said another, and following the direction of the man’s pointing, Jonas saw two horses tied up beneath the trees. He thought he recognized at least one of them as Five Mile Hill Ranch stock by a white patch on the beast’s near hip.
They were here. He’d guessed right. Thank You, Lord. Now please, keep us all safe as we rescue Hannah and Juana.
Jonas reined his mount out ahead of the others and started toward the hut, aware of a prickling in his spine and a heightening of his senses. He hoped the ferryman wasn’t a trigger-happy sort with late-night callers.
Dismounting near the door, he tied his horse to a low-hanging tree branch and walked forward, making no effort to mask his steps. An honest man wouldn’t—but he kept a hand on the gun at his hip, too.
The shack appeared even cruder once he was close enough to knock. It looked as though river mud had been used to cover the cracks between the boards. It emitted a stench of stale grease and unwashed human. Not even a muskrat would deign to live there, he thought. The window at the side was a mere hole cut into the wood without so much as newspaper tacked over it to keep out the bugs in the summer or block the cold of the coming winter.
He heard a faint rustling inside, as if someone was getting off of a mattress made of dried corn husks.
He knocked. “Mr. Wainwright!” he called. “Sorry to be bothering you so late, but I need to talk to you. I’ll make it worth your while.”
Nothing.
He knocked again, harder. “Mr. Wainwright! I need to talk to you. It’s urgent!”
“Come back in the mornin’,” a querulous voice called back. “No one needs to be crossin’ at this indecent hour.” There seemed to be a strained quality to the man’s voice. Was there a gun to his back, warning him he’d better succeed in sending Jonas away?
Suddenly he heard the high, clear wail of a baby, and then it was muffled, as if someone was trying frantically to quiet the child.
“Felix Renz, I know you’re in there!” Jonas called. “Come out, if you want to go on living!” He let all the fury he felt show in his voice.
Suddenly a rifle barrel poked out of the makeshift window. “I think I have the advantage here, if you care about the girl and the baby,” Renz called back. “Ride away.”
He heard the ferryman’s voice call out, “I don’t want no trouble here...and he’s got a lotta firepower, mister. Best do as he says.”
“Send the woman and the child out, and we’ll leave, and my men, too,” Jonas called. “You can’t win here otherwise, man, you have to know that. You’re outgunned by far. I’ve a dozen riders with me, and you can’t stay holed up in there forever. Let Hannah and Juana go, and we all ride away and forget about this.” He didn’t have a dozen riders, of course, and he hoped he would be forgiven the lie, but the half moon had gone behind some clouds, so he hoped Renz wouldn’t be able to see that he had only three other men.
He had no intention of letting the man go, of course. He was going to make Felix Renz sorry he was ever born, as soon as Juana and the child were safe, and remove the threat Felix Renz represented forever.
“Go away, MacLaren. My daughter belongs with me, and I’ve got the woman to take care of her. I’m going to marry her, all right and decent, and we’ll be a family.”
He heard a cry of female indignation. “I told you I will never marry you, hombre estúpido!” he heard Juana mutter, followed by the sound of a sharp slap and a woman’s whimper of pain.
Jonas’s temper flashed, and he fought the desire to charge the hut, gun blazing, and force his way in, but he made himself remain still, knowing Juana and Hannah might well be the casualties of a gun battle in that tiny enclosed space.
A Bible passage he had heard once resonated in his mind for a moment. Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.
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Mercy—for that man? We can talk about mercy once I see Hannah and Juana safe, Lord.
Yet he couldn’t shake the words from his head—Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy. Wasn’t he, Jonas, guilty of a crime for which he craved mercy?
“Send them out, and no harm will come to you, Renz,” he said again. “Not from me, and not from my men. We’ll ride away, as I said. But we’re not leaving till you do.”
Jonas knew his men had heard the words exchanged between himself and Renz. They had to be thinking he’d lost his mind to be agreeing to let Renz go if he released his captives. He prayed he could trust them not to open fire if Renz showed himself—if only for the safety of his hostages.
The moments ticked on endlessly. Hannah had begun a fretful crying, the way she did when she was overtired or disturbed during sleep.
“Renz,” he said. “It’s getting late. Your daughter needs to be safe in her bed, back at the ranch. You don’t want any harm to come to her,” he asserted, and prayed that was true. “You have to let her go now—her and Juana.”
Through the window, he heard a rustling in the shack and the sound of whispered voices. Then suddenly the door opened and Juana was there, gliding away from the hut. He couldn’t be sure if she was alone, or...Yes! She was carrying the child!
“Over here, Juana,” he called, his heart overflowing with thankfulness, but he kept a wary eye on the door. “You’re doing the right thing, Renz. As soon as we can get them mounted, we’ll ride away.”
In seconds she had reached them, and he put his arm around the shaking, slender woman and the child. He heard the child’s whimpering subside to a small cry of recognition. “Thank You, God,” he murmured. “You’re safe, Juana, little Hannah. Thanks be to God.” Then slowly, still keeping his eye on the shack, he began to back them away from the riverbank and toward the horses.
Not another sound came from the ferryman’s shack.
Chapter Eighteen
To their credit, not one of his men asked him to explain why he had left without making Renz pay for what he’d done—not that they could have gotten a word in edgewise for the first mile or two, for he was far too busy reassuring Juana that Hector would make a full recovery from his wound. He knew Hector was fond of the young widow, but he had not realized how mutual their affection was.
It was the middle of the night before they covered the distance back to Five Mile Hill Ranch, but as soon as the horsemen pulled up in the yard, Maude flew out of the house and reached them as he assisted a weary Juana and sleeping Hannah from their horse.
“Jonas! You found them! They’re safe! Oh, thank You, God, thank You!” she cried. In the course of embracing Juana and Hannah, the baby naturally woke up, and her excitement at seeing Maude added to the clamor of voices in front of the house. Juana lost little time in handing the baby off to Maude, then ran into the house and upstairs to check on Hector.
Jonas’s mother was there, too, assisted downstairs by the housekeeper, and her lined face was the happiest he’d ever seen it.
“’Tis proud of you and thankful I am, my son,” Coira said, her brogue as thick as if she’d never left Scotland. “So you made the caitiff pay for scaring us all to death?”
He saw Maude go still, and knew Renz’s fate had been very much on her mind, too.
He shook his head. “I left him in the ferryman’s hut, Mother, safe and sound, little as he deserved it. Oh, I was mightily tempted to put a bullet or two through his worthless hide, but someone had already convinced me that was the Lord’s job.”
He felt Maude’s arms go around him then. “Thank you, Jonas,” she said fervently.
“God be praised,” breathed Coira. “I’m thankful for your soul’s sake you had sense enough to listen to the lass. Thank you, Maude.”
“Yes, thank you, Maude,” he said, smiling down at the woman he still held tight in his embrace. “Mother, I made my peace with the Lord, and He helped us, thanks to Maude.”
“’Twas a good day when you set foot in our house, Maude Harkey,” Coira said, cupping Maude’s cheek with a gnarled hand and kissing her forehead before turning back to her son. “Jonas, the sheriff arrived a bit ago, and let me know he’d already sent telegraph messages to all the nearby towns to hold Renz if he shows his face there.”
“I hope they catch him soon,” Jonas said. “I promised not to make him pay, but if the law takes him without my help, that’s a whole different story.” He chuckled grimly.
“Indeed it is,” Coira agreed. “Son, I hope you’re smart enough not to let this one get away,” she said, nodding at Maude.
“Of course I won’t let her get away, if she’ll have me,” he said with a grin at Maude that warmed her as if she’d suddenly been transported to noontime in July. “But we’re all so tired, I think for now I’ll send her and Juana and the bairn to bed, speak to the sheriff, then get some sleep.”
By mutual agreement Thanksgiving dinner was postponed until Friday since neither Senora Morales nor anyone else had had time in the uproar to prepare it. But Thanksgiving would be celebrated all the same, even if it was delayed. After all, they had so very much to be thankful for.
* * *
Sheriff Bishop left at noon the next day after hearing Jonas’s account of the events of the day before.
“I’ll send my deputy out to talk to the ferryman to see if he knows which way the sidewinder went, but I doubt we’ll see Felix Renz in these parts anymore,” he said. “He’ll know better than to show his face in Simpson Creek after what he’s done. If he’s at all smart, he’ll head to Mexico. I’ll charge him with kidnapping and assault if I ever see him again, since I didn’t make any deals with him. He was fortunate that it was you and not me out there by the river last night.”
“We appreciate your coming out, Sheriff,” Jonas, standing next to Maude, said at the door. “Our apologies to your good wife for keeping you from your Thanksgiving dinner.”
“Prissy would be the first to tell you that she understands that my duty comes first,” Bishop said. A smile lit his solemn face as he spoke of her. “A lawman couldn’t ask for a better wife.”
No sooner had he departed than Dr. Walker arrived, and Maude took him upstairs to see Hector. He pronounced himself very satisfied with the foreman’s condition, for Hector had no fever or any other signs of infection because of Maude’s and Juana’s excellent care, and because the bullet hadn’t remained inside him, but had exited out his back. The doctor left another bottle of laudanum in case the foreman needed it, but Hector was already declining to take it—clearly because he’d much rather savor the presence of Juana, who rarely left his bedside except to see to Hannah’s feeding.
Dr. Walker also checked on Coira while he was there, and professed to be amazed at how well she was healing, despite the scattered bruises that had turned a garish purple overnight.
“It’d take more than a runt like Felix Renz to keep me down,” Coira boasted. “Thanks to the willow bark tea and the dear girl who brews it for me,” she added, nodding at Maude.
Hannah herself seemed almost totally unaffected by her wild ride across the countryside, other than being reluctant to let either Juana or Maude out of her sight.
Though he had ranch duties to catch up on, Jonas seemed to crave Maude’s presence as well, and spent as much time with her as he could. He didn’t mention again what he’d said before to his mother, in front of her— Of course I won’t let her get away, if she’ll have me.
Had that been a proposal, or not? Maude wondered. Had she been expected to reply to it, there and then? Did he think her amazed silence was a refusal? Maude didn’t know, but she sensed it was better to wait and see if he mentioned it again.
The household spent Thursday quietly as they recovered from the day before, but Friday morning Maude and Juana joined Senora Morales in the ki
tchen to help with the final Thanksgiving dinner preparations.
Senora Morales already had things well in hand, of course; the turkey was roasting in the oven and the delicious smell of the roasting poultry and the cranberry bread she’d baked filled the room. She set both women to peeling potatoes.
“What are you wearing tonight?” Juana asked Maude. “I imagine you’ll dress up for dinner, since it is Thanksgiving, no?”
“I hadn’t thought about it...” Maude was surprised at the question. Her Tejana friend didn’t usually concern herself overmuch with clothing, since she still wore mourning, though she always looked nice. “I don’t know...do you have any suggestions?” There seemed to be a suppressed excitement about Juana today, as if she knew something Maude didn’t.
“What about the dark blue dress with the gold trim and velvet collar and cuffs?”
Maude stared at her friend. “You don’t think it’s too formal?” She had only brought the dress with her since she’d had to take all her belongings from the boardinghouse.
Juana shook her head. “Not at all—it’s Thanksgiving. I think we should be festive—especially after what we’ve been through. But I will not be sitting with you and the MacLarens—Hector is allowed to eat a little solid food, starting today, and I think I will keep him company.”
“He’ll think you look beautiful.” Maude said, realizing things must be getting serious between her friend and the ranch foreman. She hoped they’d both have time for all this primping once they were done with preparations for the feast.
* * *
When it came time to sit down to their belated Thanksgiving dinner, Maude was glad her friend had urged her to dress up. When Maude entered the dining room, she saw that Coira wore a skirt of MacLaren plaid with a white blouse and a matching plaid sash across her chest that fastened with an elaborate gold pin at her hip.
Hill Country Courtship (Brides of Simpson Creek Book 8) Page 20
