Reckless Rakes - Hayden Islington

by Bronwyn Scott

  “I’m sorry, what did you say?” Hayden asked in his most provoking tone.

  “I said, get inside, pretty boy.” Davenport’s response came through gritted teeth. He gave a vicious jerk of his weapon. It was all Hayden needed. He charged Davenport, head low like a bull, plowing into Davenport’s stomach as the pistol shot went off in the night.

  The pistol report shattered the tense silence inside the cottage. A scream found its way out of Jenna’s mouth involuntarily. Her captor shot her a snarling look and moved to the window. She shot a hopeful glance at Daniel who was hunched in his bonds across the small room.

  The big man turned back to them. “It looks like your lover has come after all.” He gave her a leering stare. “I wonder why he cares about missing workers and a suffering mill other than his affection for you. You must be quite the treat in bed if he was willing to risk the lake. Maybe after this gets settled, I’ll have a chance to find out.” He rubbed meaningfully at his crotch.

  Jenna looked away. He was trying to panic her. She couldn’t focus on that. She had to think about what was happening. Hayden was out there! Impotence flooded her. Her hands were tied and she was bound to a chair. She could do nothing but worry. Scenarios raced through her head. Had that gunshot been for him? Was he laying in the dark bleeding and hurt? Dying even? Or was it his gun that had found purchase and he was on his way to her even now? If only she had her hands free!

  “Don’t worry,” The big man, Trenton, sneered. “He still has to get through me even if he gets past Davenport.” And the other one, Schuyler, Jenna thought privately, trying to keep track of everyone. They’d gone outside at periodic intervals to check the perimeter. This time they’d found something — someone, at least Davenport had. Heaven only knew where the third man was.

  That question, at least, was answered in short order. The door opened and the third man entered, dragging the prone form of Carrick Pierce. He deposited Pierce on the floor with a swift kick to the ribs. Carrick moaned.

  “Leave him alone!” Jenna cried.

  Schuyler jerked his head her direction. “Bring her out. I doubt Islington will be so keen to kick the shit out of Davenport once he sees her.”

  Trenton flourished his long knife and it took all of her courage not to draw back as he slashed her bonds. She’d wanted so desperately to be free just moments ago. He pulled her to her feet and wrapped a hand in her hair, yanking painfully. “Remember this is all your fault.” She could feel the blade at her throat as he pushed her towards the door, could smell the scent of onions on him. It was a frightening position no matter how much she told herself he wouldn’t kill her, not yet. She still had more value alive. “If you had stayed at home, if you had accepted missing workers as a fact of life, you and your brother would be safe. Your lover would be safe.”

  Jenna shut her ears. They were trying to panic her. She had to stay calm and wait for her opportunity. She’d already foiled their plans to be away with Daniel. She’d come upon them before they could set out and dealing with her had stolen the last of their daylight, forcing them to hole up for the night in the cottage. She remembered that victory now to keep her spirits up. She had allies. Granted, one of them was tied up and one was unconscious. They were safe until the sun came up. These men were greedy. They thought they could sell her to a brothel after they’d deposited her brother with another procurer. They’d taken great pleasure in outlining those lurid fates. They didn’t want to kill her, or maim her. Would Hayden know that?

  Trenton yanked on her hair, pushing her face upward to the sky until she couldn’t see Hayden, only the stars overhead. Stay calm, they won’t hurt you. Focus on the positive. Hayden had come. Still, it was a hard sell with a blade pressed to her throat. She wasn’t entirely convinced she was buying.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Hayden landed a final blow to Davenport’s jaw and let the limp form sag to the wet ground. He staggered to his feet only to be stopped cold by the sight of Jenna, knife to her throat, in the arms of a burly man. His mind flashed through his options. He had no gun, no knife. Even if he did, force risked the chance this new adversary would retaliate by hurting Jenna.

  The man holding her gave her a vicious tug and she gasped. Hayden’s blood steamed, his adrenaline pumping. He tried to tamp it down. He needed objectivity. Rashness would not protect Jenna. The man laughed cruelly. “I thought that might change your mind, lover-boy.”

  Hayden fought to keep his mind from panicking. It positively destroyed him to see that knife against her skin, to imagine it slipping, cutting. He couldn’t think about it. He had to think rationally. What did they want? What could he give them in exchange for Jenna, for Carrick who must be around here somewhere and hopefully for Daniel too? Had Jenna got here in time? There were so many unknowns.

  He could not trade himself. They wouldn’t want him. He was worth nothing to them and he was too conspicuous to murder. Hayden held out his hands to his sides. “Let her and the boy go and I’ll let you ride away from here. I won’t follow you, now or in the morning if you choose to wait.” he tried. Jenna wouldn’t like it. The deal secured her freedom but not the freedom of the others who’d been taken. It would put them no closer to uncovering the ring and stopping it. But Hayden was more concerned about the immediacy of her safety. The rest could follow.

  Hayden hesitated. A second man emerged from the cottage with Daniel in tow at knife point. Relief swept him. Jenna had at least halted their departure. But negotiations were at an impasse. The only thing keeping them here in the cottage was the night. When the sun came up, they would overpower him, three to one, and leave with Daniel and Jenna. Or before. In a way they’d already overpowered him by holding Jenna and Daniel. They would not prevaricate in sacrificing them in exchange for their own freedom. He was coming up empty. He needed a miracle. Or a horse. Hayden put his fingers to his lips and whistled.

  He got more than he bargained for. Hooves thundered from behind him and he whirled around in time to see a mounted man barreling into the glen, a pistol in each hand. Behind him came Guerre, his coat gleaming in the moonlight, followed by Carrick’s bay. He only knew one man who could ride like that, and shoot. Logan! The pistol fired, sparking in the darkness. The man holding Daniel fell, clutching his shoulder.

  Hayden swung up on Guerre and headed towards the man holding Jenna. Logan called out to him. “Catch!” He tossed the remaining pistol. Hayden wielded it like a club, forcing the man to choose between his own safety and Jenna. He threw Jenna aside and dodged, stumbling away into the woods. Hayden fired after him in the dark. A grunt confirmed the hit. But Davenport was moving on the ground and the other two were still mobile. They had to be off and both pistols were spent.

  “Jenna, quick!” Hayden reached down a hand and pulled her up, feeling the relief of her hand gripping his. Logan had Daniel seated before him and Carrick had dragged himself on board Star. But the others had roused themselves, heading for their own mounts. It would be a race for the ice, for the lake. If they could get there they’d be free. Davenport and his men wouldn’t cross. They wouldn’t want to risk going back into town. But Hayden knew the other hard truth. They wouldn’t want him getting back into town either. They only needed to be close enough to get off a shot. Now, there was a reason to see him dead. If he crossed that lake, they could be hunted down. Davenport would be exposed.

  He circled Guerre, ushering Logan and Carrick out of the glen before him. In a quick flick of his hand, he reached out and freed Jenna’s mare from the tree branch where it was tethered. They were off, making as much speed as they dared in the dark, Jenna’s mare beside them. The moon was their enemy and their friend — lighting their way but also giving them away. All too soon, Hayden heard the sound of pursuit behind them. He didn’t dare give a shout to Logan for fear of becoming a target. Bullets could find voices in the dark as well they could find bodies in the light.

  The shore of the lake neared, he could see it glistening, slick and wet. Jenna’s a
rms were tight at his waist, a reminder that he took this risk for more than himself. The realization stole the thrill. Logan was already nearly to the far shore, safe with Daniel; Carrick was in the middle of the crossing when the shot rang out. Hayden crouched low, wishing Jenna was in front of him. He couldn’t shield her, couldn’t take the bullet for her. Guerre stumbled and neighed in pain. Hayden cursed. A look backwards confirmed it: Guerre was hit in the flank, perhaps just a scratch, he hoped. Jenna’s face was white, testimony to how close the bullet had come to her.

  He put his heels to Guerre, urging him out on the ice, feeling the big horse’s uneven gait. “Just a little farther, boy.”

  “Hayden, hurry, the ice is soft! There’s a crack and it’s spreading” Carrick called over his shoulder.

  Crack was an understatement. It was more like a fissure. Hayden could see it in the moonlight, a long scar on the flawless surface. It had probably formed from the pressure of all the traffic over it tonight. It was too late for countermeasures. The fissure was splitting. The hoofs of thy steed have knocked at the grave, in the gulf of death, the fathomless wave. He would conquer this lake.

  “Jenna, hold on!” Jenna’s grip tightened about him, welcome proof that she was there and unharmed. Hayden gave Guerre a hard kick, spurring him into a limping canter, calling on the horse’s endurance. They would have to make a run for it. If the fissure had been vertical, he could have simply gone around it. As it was, the fracture was horizontal, its fault line laid between them and shore. A run wasn’t all they were going to need. They would need a wounded horse carrying two on ice to jump the fault line.

  Hayden called on all his skill, all of Guerre’s strength. He waited until the last possible moment to give the signal. Then they were soaring, clearing the emerging dark pool. Guerre’s front hooves hit ice on the safe side of the lake. Hayden felt Guerre’s knees buckle. He had only the slightest of warnings to brace himself before Guerre went down. They’d cleared the ice but they weren’t safe yet. They had to get to shore.

  “Jenna!” Hayden rolled to his side and scrambled to her, pulling her away from Guerre’s flailing hooves. She wasn’t moving. He had her in his arms, stumbling madly towards land. Carrick and Logan were there, shouting warnings, Carrick pulling at Guerre’s bridle, half dragging, half leading the horse from the ice.

  Hayden looked behind him to see Davenport and party on the ice. “Go back, go back!” he shouted frantically but it was too late for them. Villains they might be but that didn’t mean he wanted them to drown. Dead men couldn’t stand for justice. The fissure widened, the soft ice, weakened under the simultaneous weight of three horses, collapsed beneath them, swallowing them up without warning, horses and all.

  “We have to save the horses!” Carrick cried. He made to dart back out onto the breaking ice but Logan held him fast.

  Hayden might have joined Carrick in a rescue attempt but he had Jenna to worry over. She was cold and limp. He rubbed her hands in his, trying to put some warmth into her. He searched her for a wound. Perhaps the bullet had hit her after all. But there was no sign. He ran his fingers through her hair and stalled. There was a swelling bump at the side of her temple just under her hairline. She must have hit her head when she fell. A cold far more chilling than the ice swept him.

  “Jenna, come on, honey, wake up.” But Jenna didn’t wake up.

  “Put her up on Star.” Carrick said quietly. “Logan has Guerre able to walk. We’ll get him checked out at the stables. I think it’s just a graze.”

  “No, I’ll carry her.” Hayden insisted. He hadn’t told her he loved her and now he couldn’t.

  They were a sorry party walking back to the King’s Arms, a wounded horse limping beside a fainting lady; the two creatures he loved best in life. If he had been here, she would be alright. She wouldn’t have gone after Daniel on her own or at all. Hayden looked up to the sky, spotting her north star and made his bargain. If she could only be well, if she would only wake up, he wouldn’t leave her again. He would never be so foolish. The details of such an arrangement could work themselves out later.

  At the inn, Hayden took charge. He called for a doctor. He sent Carrick to see to the horses and with a look that spoke more than words, he dispatched Logan to make the explanations, first to Jenna’s anxious father and then to the authorities. In the morning, the local police could start looking for the prostitution ring.

  Hayden disappeared up the stairs with Jenna, taking her straight to his room, to his bed. This was bad. He knew before the doctor came to pronounce his verdict. She might not wake up. Doctor Whitely came and went. There was nothing he could do besides keeping cold compresses on the swelling. Carrick and Logan came to reassure him Guerre would be fine.

  Jenna’s father came and sat quietly with him for a while. Midnight came and there was still no change. The end of the poem haunted him in the silence of his mind. He sighs, falls from his steed to the ground; a grave on the shore of the lake he found. No, not his Jenna. He would not give her to the ice. He was a selfish bastard, he wouldn’t give her to anyone, to anything. He wanted her all for himself.

  “She needs a reason to wake up, son.” Julius stood up and stretched, his voice was quiet with grief and anguish. “Just like I did. Do you think you can give her one?”

  Hayden picked up her hand and laced his fingers through hers. “Jenna, please, honey, wake up. Everyone is safe. Guerre is alright. Daniel is safe, thanks to you. A group of men will ride out to find the missing workers tomorrow.” He knew he should care more about that, but he cared only for what was happening right here before him, for Jenna.

  “Is that the best you can do?” Julius gave him a sharp look before leaving. Clearly, these weren’t the sort of reasons her father had been talking about.

  Hayden swallowed in the silence of the room. Would he be enough? His fingers flexed around hers and laid his dreams out for her. “I’m not leaving. I’ve decided to stay in Kendal, but only if you’ll have me. I was hoping we might be married this spring, but I guess that depends on you, princess. You’ll have to wake up and give me your answer.”

  There was no response. Of course there wasn’t. This wasn’t a fairy tale. She was injured. Hayden smoothed back her hair where the bump swelled red and blue. She’d fallen badly when Guerre went down. He kissed the bump, he kissed her eyelids, her nose, her mouth and then, in his exhaustion, he laid down to sleep beside her, giving her the protection of his body for whatever it was worth.

  There was no change the next day. Jenna was cool but non-responsive. Hayden ran out of things to say by lunch. He’d told her repeatedly of his plans to stay but they worked no magic in waking her. Her father’s words haunted him. Give her a reason. Words weren’t enough. When her father showed up to sit with her, Hayden was restless and he had a plan. He could tell her he was staying, but if words didn’t work, perhaps action would. He had to do something, had to prove to her he meant it.

  Her father looked grey and tired, this latest strain on his strength proving taxing so soon after his brief recovery, but the older man brightened when Hayden told him his plan. “I’m going out to look for a property, some place just outside town where boys can ride.” He shot a quick glance at the bed. “Maybe if she knows I mean it, it will help.”

  Julius smiled. “I know of a place you might try. Old Man Sutherland would like to sell, but he’s stubborn and refuses to give his land to the factories — the only real buyers in the area. Perhaps a horse stable would be more to his liking, and it’s not far from the lake.”

  It took the rest of the day and it was full dark when Hayden returned, but he had the deed. Old Man Sutherland was every bit as stubborn as reputed and he’d driven a hard deal before finally giving Hayden what he wanted. ‘What finally persuaded you?’ Hayden had asked over a final handshake, the deed tucked into his coat pocket. The old man had smiled, a gleam in his eyes. ‘You want to make a life here, that’s more than the factories and mills want to do. I brought my bride here s
eventy years ago, I raised my children here and you will do the same. This place was built from love. I couldn’t just give it to anyone.’

  Hayden chuckled. The old man wasn’t exactly ‘giving’ it away. He’d driven a hard bargain, but Hayden appreciated the sentiment. Now, he just had to make those dreams come true. For that, he needed Jenna. More specifically, he needed Jenna to wake up.

  Part of him hoped she’d be awake when he climbed the stairs. He met the doctor coming down, however, and Whitely confirmed no change. Whitely put a hand on his sleeve. “I don’t have to tell you that the danger to her grows. She can’t eat, can’t sustain herself the longer she’s unconscious. Even a day more of this could be too much.”

  Hayden nodded. He knew. He just didn’t want to believe it. A single fall off a horse shouldn’t be able to do so much damage. How many times had he fallen and gotten up unhurt without even a scratch? Guerre had even landed on him once. In his room, he smiled at Julius and sent the man downstairs for dinner. He didn’t want to worry about the older man’s health too. Besides, he wanted to share his news first with Jenna, the way a husband would. He stood in the center of the room for a moment, letting the idea wash over him with all its profundity. He wanted to tell her about the farm first. Not Logan, or Carrick. But her.

  He approached the bed hesitantly, his heart beating fast. What would he do if this didn’t work? For the first time he had to face how badly he wanted this, wanted her. It was frightening. He’d rather jump a hundred downed horses on ice than face the other side of this. Hayden picked up her hand and pressed it to his lips. “Jenna, I have something for you, two things actually. I saw Old Man Sutherland today. I bought his farm.” Hayden gave a little laugh. “He didn’t want to sell, not easily anyway, it took hours.” He recounted the afternoon for her, telling her about the farm, about the negotiations. ‘He said… and then I said… and he countered… ’ Every once in a while, he paused, thinking he felt her stir, or felt her hand flex ever so lightly in his. Then he’d go on. “I have the deed, we have a home, a stable.” He thought about the condition of the farm. “Well, eventually we’ll have a home. Maybe you’d like to fix it up a little first; we can build a bigger house. But the stable is ready. I mean to teach lessons, and I have big plans for an ice racing festival next year.” He paused, certain he’d felt something this time. He put the deed in her hand and closed her fingers around it.