Elizabeth's Flight: a tale of loving discipline out west

by Susan Thomas

  He rode on to another town where he booked in at the hotel and did some thinking. What would an eighteen-year-old well-educated girl be doing out here? The only thing he could think of was teaching. The next day he took his time before buying a fair quantity of candy and riding back to Kirkham. He approached warily, riding around the outskirts until he saw the schoolhouse. Kids are easily engaged in conversation, especially with the aid of some candy and small change. He took the loneliest path he could see and sat on a rock, sucking on a stick of candy.

  After a while, he heard a boy whistling tunelessly and the sound of a stick hitting branches. Here was a young lad walking home from school. The boy, scruffy from the day, was swiping at branches with a stick he had picked up.

  "Hi son, school out?"

  "Yup." The boy eyed the candy with longing.

  Thomas pretended to realize, "Hey, do ya want some?"

  "Sure would."

  "Well, I bought too much. You have this other stick."

  "Thanks mister. That's real kind."

  "Well, you been at school all day locked up with that mean teacher 'n' all."

  "My teacher's not mean. She's real nice and kind."

  "She is! My you're one lucky boy. My teacher was mean and ugly. Looked like a witch. Does yours look like a witch?"

  "Nope. She's purty. She's got lovely hair, like... dunno. Not red but-"

  "Do you mean auburn?"

  "Yeah, that's it...auburn."

  "You are one very lucky boy. Pretty and kind. My I wish mine had been like that. But I bet you a dime she paddles you boys a lot don't she."

  "No mister, you'd lose that bet. She never paddles no one."

  "What! Oh well I'm an honest man. Here's yer dime. Now what is the name of this pretty teacher who is kind and don't paddle you?"

  "Mrs. Flight."

  Thomas Weatherspoon was cautious. It was the right description but wrong name. Perhaps she was posing as a young widow, maybe older than she really was. "Well I bet another dime you don't know her Christian name. We used to try and find out our teacher's name but we never managed it."

  "You'd lose that bet too mister. We all know. It's Beth."

  Beth... Elizabeth. Right description and the first name fitted. It was the girl. "Well I wish I was a boy at your school with a pretty teacher who is kind and don't paddle. Now you've been such a polite friendly boy, here is a quarter for you. You tell your mom that I gave you the money because I was feeling the need for company and you were real polite and well mannered."

  "Thanks. Thanks a whole bunch, mister."

  "My pleasure. Now you get off home before your mom worries."

  Thomas was delighted with himself. So easy... some candy and a few pennies. He rode back to the hotel where he had spent the night and the next morning dispatched a telegram to Mr. Franklin Jones. "Found her. Calling herself Beth Flight. Schoolteacher, Kirkham."

  ---oOo---

  There was a hurried family conference about the detective. He'd gone, and Henry was hopeful he'd not be back. He'd been very stern with the man about tricksters and thieves, and had secretly followed him for some distance. The detective had definitely left. They decided that even if he was looking for Beth and Arthur, he didn't actually know they were there, and, unless he was allowed to ask questions, he couldn't find out. It was unsettling to know that the search was still on, but other than vigilance they would do nothing. The decision was, of course, a big mistake.

  Chapter 12

  It was near the end of the school day when chance made Beth glance out of the window by the door. She was horrified to see a buggy approaching driven by her father, with Rankin Blake as the passenger next to him. She whirled around to face the class.

  "Arthur, your father and mine are coming. Get out of the far window and get Mayor Spencer and my husband. Quickly!"

  Arthur was like an eel squirming quickly out of the window and Timmy Hancock, without a moment's thought, closed it behind him.

  "Children, listen quickly. Arthur is in terrible danger. His real father is a wicked, cruel man. You must all pretend there is no Arthur... in fact, no other boy in the class. Do you understand?"

  Beth was astonished at what happened next. Every trace of Arthur's possessions disappeared and on the empty desk were piled up some books and slates, as if they were always stored there. Beth tried hard to appear as if she was teaching and the children responded well. An experienced teacher entering the room would have sensed immediately that this was not normal, but neither Isaac Franklin Jones nor Rankin Blake were teachers. Blake looked around the room as if searching for his son and then dismissed the children from his mind and turned his attention to Beth.

  "So, you thought you could escape me, did you. Well, Elizabeth, before today is out we will be married and I will begin to teach you the meaning of obedience and respect."

  "I am already married. You're too late." Beth held up her hand to show her wedding ring.

  Blake sneered and seized her arm in a savage grip. "Anyone can buy a ring. You can pretend all you wish, but I will have you and I will punish you for this escapade. Be very sure about that."

  Beth pulled free of him. "I am married and even I were not, I would never marry you. You are an evil man, and you," she turned to the man she had known as father, "are not my father. I know that now. No father would treat a daughter as you have."

  This defiant speech infuriated Blake and, without any warning, he struck her face with the back of his hand sending her reeling. One of the boys leapt to his feet and ran at Blake shouting, "Leave my teacher alone!" Blake seemed to grow in anger at the defiance he was experiencing and hit the boy hard, knocking him down. Beth tried to help the lad but Blake hit her again and, seizing her arm in a painful grip, forced her towards the door. Sarah O'Connor screamed out that she was getting her daddy and rushed out of the school, dodging Mr. Jones' clutching arms. The children started shouting and protesting at Blake and several either darted through the door or climbed out of windows to fetch help.

  Blake and Jones hustled Beth out of the door and towards the buggy. Beth struggled furiously. She was burning with anger at the sheer arrogance of these two men who thought they could treat her in this way, but physically she was not as strong as they were. Blake drove and Beth was sandwiched between the two of them.

  "I have a preacher lined up. We're going there now and you and I will be married. I shall announce we couldn't wait for the formalities but eloped to tie the knot. In an hour or so you will be mine and then, Elizabeth, I shall teach you that I will be obeyed and respected. You will not enjoy the lesson but you will learn it."

  Beth was cold. "In an hour or so you will be dead. The men of this town do not like it when someone interferes with their womenfolk. If my husband does not kill you others will, but even if they fail, I will kill you myself."

  Blake seemed to become colder rather than anything. He sneered, "Persist with your fantasies if you will, but you just make your punishment all the worse."

  The children had poured out of the schoolhouse screaming and shouting their news. Mr. O'Connor came running alerted by Sarah, but only in time to see the buggy disappearing down one of the roads that led out of town. At that moment Mr. Hancock came in his cart to pick up Timmy. Timmy ran straight to him pointing.

  "Pa, quick. Arthur's father came for him, but we got him out. He's with another man. Taken Mrs. Flight. They hit her an' all. They're hurting her. Ya gotta stop 'em."

  Mr. Hancock was a man of fierce loyalties. Mrs. Flight had taken his school-hating son and turned him into a boy keen to learn to read and write. He was proud of how well his son was doing. He loved his wife and she said Mrs. Flight and Arthur were running away from cruelty, and she should know, so he didn't hesitate but turned his cart immediately in the direction that Timmy was pointing. Timmy leapt up on the back and the pursuit began.

  No sooner had Mr. Hancock disappeared down the road when Henry, his deputy, his brother Charles, John Spencer and pretty we
ll all the men in town, followed by most of the women, came running up. It was hard sorting out the gabbled, conflicting and tearful stories of the children but they worked out what had happened and that Mr. Hancock and his son were in pursuit. Henry deputized any man willing and they all ran to get horses. Soon, a large posse of angry men was thundering down the road on horseback trying to catch up.

  Beth had never felt so angry before. She had always resisted marrying Blake and had feared that, such was his obsession with her, he would never relinquish his claim. Perhaps it was also a matter of pride for him. He couldn't bear someone defying him in any way. Finding Emily and the gradual revelations about her 'parents' had made her realize just how vile they were and how they had used both her and Emily. Now he had abducted her and terrified the children, even hitting one of them. She had no doubts Henry would soon be in hot pursuit with a posse but she was too angry to wait. How dare they abduct her? How dare they frighten and hurt the children in her school? It was unbelievable arrogance by two men whose sense of entitlement overrode any consideration for others.

  She acted without much of a plan but pushed her back hard against Blake who was driving. He exclaimed with annoyance but it was to give her space. She used Blake to give her support, and with all the strength and violence she could muster, she pushed the man she had known as father, as hard as she could. She did it so quickly it worked very well. Jones was pushed right to the edge of the seat, lost his balance and with a despairing cry clutched fruitlessly at the buggy before falling off with a mighty crash.

  Blake swore and tried to halt the horse while restraining Beth who used nothing but instinct when she stuck her thumb in his eye. He swore again, hit her, and managed to bring the horse to a halt in spite of it. Her nose was bleeding from the blow, but she didn't scream and fluster, just leapt off the stationary vehicle and looked toward Jones. He had gotten to his feet but was clearly shaken and bruised by the fall and showed no interest in her. Blake was climbing down with the whip in his hand and Beth assessed her chances against him. Not good, she decided, and took to her heels, running into the woods behind her.

  Blake was coldly angry. He found it hard to believe the defiance the wretched girl was demonstrating. He was used only to women who were timid in his presence. He swished the whip angrily through the air. Once the preacher married them he would whip her until she bled. He looked with contempt at Jones, who was standing shakily, checking himself for broken bones, and hurried off in pursuit of Elizabeth.

  Beth was thinking. If she could get back to the buggy, having lost Blake, she could drive back to town. She reasoned that her so called father would be quite shaken by his fall from a moving buggy and, anyway, he had neither a whip nor the resolve of Blake. She heard the sound of Blake crashing noisily towards her through the woods. Picking up two heavy stones she moved in among some bushes and stood very still and quiet. Her heart was beating fast but she managed to control her breathing so that he wouldn't hear it. As the sounds of Blake got closer, she suddenly heaved first one rock and then another deeper into the woods. They landed noisily and as luck would have it disturbed an animal which, frightened, crashed off in the opposite direction. Beth had no idea what it was but guessed it would help.

  Blake smiled when he heard the crashing noises ahead of him. He assumed that the sounds were those of Elizabeth fighting her way through the tangles and thought she'd not get far doing that wearing, as she was, a dress and petticoats. He'd have her and he followed in grim pursuit.

  Beth actually watched Blake heading deeper into the woods, following the animal which he thought was her. She slipped quietly back and quickly came out onto the road. Her 'father' was standing holding onto the buggy, not looking his usual smart self. He was covered in dirt and horse muck and looked very red faced and disheveled. As soon as he saw her he shouted out to Blake very loudly, and Beth knew she had little time to get control of the buggy. She ran straight for it and he tried to block her path.

  What happened next was accidental. Beth went to push his face back away from hers and the heel of her hand connected with the underside of his nose. There was a little cracking sound; Jones went backwards and his nose began gushing blood. Beth was surprised but climbed swiftly up onto the buggy and, taking control of the horse, turned it around while her so called 'father' stood holding his face and cursing loudly.

  Several things then happened at once. Blake came running back and, before Beth could set off for Kirkham, he held onto the horse's head and stopped it. Mr. Hancock came, his farm cart rocking and rolling at the unaccustomed speed, and pulled up, blocking the road. Timmy jumped down, intending to run to his teacher whose nose was still bleeding and who looked angry, something he had never seen before. Mr. Hancock stood up on the cart and pointed his shotgun straight at Blake's chest.

  "Hey you. Git yer filthy hands off'n that horse."

  Blake smiled, his face taking on an odd look. It seemed to Mr. Hancock that the man was enjoying himself. From inside his coat Blake pulled out a small pistol and pointed it straight at Timmy.

  "This is none of your business. If you want this boy... I presume it's your son... to live, then put your shotgun down and turn your cart around and go home."

  Mr. Hancock looked at Timmy and saw immediately what he was about to do. Timmy was going to leap onto his hands and then spring into the bushes at the side. The boy was always doing stunts like that with Arthur. Blake would never succeed in shooting a target moving like that. He had confidence in his son and prepared to pull the trigger and kill the man where he stood. Timmy moved swiftly; he sprang forward, flipped onto his hands, and then straight into the bushes where he dived behind a tree. Blake was thrown by the moving boy, who changed levels and positions so quickly, and didn't fire at all, even if he had intended to. Mr. Hancock did fire but his position on top of the cart was unstable. The horse moved, slightly startled by Timmy, and Mr. Hancock fell back in his seat even as his shotgun went off. A branch of a tree was hit and dropped to the ground.

  Beth shouted, "Timmy!"

  Her 'father' cried out, "For God's sake calm down everyone."

  They were all staring at one another, unsure how to resolve the situation, when the posse led by Henry came thundering along the road and pulled up.

  Henry stared at the sight that greeted him. Beth looked angry... very angry. Her clothing and hair were all awry and there was blood on her face and down her dress. The buggy was no longer pointed away from Kirkham but had been turned around. Beth had the reins. One man was in the road and was not a pretty picture. He was covered in road dust and horse mess, his clothes and hair were disheveled, his face hot and flushed, and his nose bleeding. Another man held a revolver; he had scratches all over his face while his clothes were torn and ripped. He too looked hot and flushed but he had a lot more composure than the other. Henry grinned to himself. It looked like Beth had given them a bad time.

  He took in the current situation. Mr. Hancock was pointing his shotgun at the man holding a revolver. That man was in turn pointing his revolver in the general direction of Timmy Hancock who was hiding behind a tree and looking pleased with himself.

  "Mr. Hancock, lower your gun." Henry's voice was strong, clear and calming. "There is no need for any more violence than we have had already."

  "Well said, Sheriff." Blake had control of himself again. "You are more intelligent than I expected. I am well within my rights. This is Mr. Franklin Jones and I am Mr. Rankin Blake. Perhaps you've not heard of us but in our home state we are men of importance. I don't know what she told you, but this girl is Elizabeth Franklin Jones and daughter to my friend here. She is only eighteen years of age. I am her betrothed. She ran away, possibly with my son Arthur, although I didn't see him in the school. So, you should do your duty and support us in returning her to her mother." Blake sounded so reasonable that Beth thought another sheriff might well have accepted his view, which is what she had originally feared.

  "I know exactly who you both are and s
o does everyone here. You are too late. Beth is now Beth Flight, and my wife. We were married by the minister right here in our own church in front of virtually the whole town. Beth is the teacher, but only until the new one arrives."

  Blake seemed frighteningly conversational when he turned to Beth. "So, you little slut. Couldn't wait to spread your legs for some small town hick. No matter. I will have you." He pointed his revolver at her. "Sheriff, I am going to take Elizabeth right now. If you attempt to stop me, I shall make you a widower. You and your posse and this hayseed here will have to stay right where you are or better still turn around and go home. She is rightfully mine and I will have her."

  Beth's anger had been growing since she saw the two men approaching the school. She was angry about the things her so called father had done; angry about the cruelties Blake had inflicted on Arthur and the unknown, but probably far worse ones, on Arthur's mother; angry that he had hit one of her pupils; and angry that he had threatened Timmy. How did men like that get such high opinions of themselves? She saw Henry hesitating and read his mind. He was worried Blake would kill her. She looked at Blake and made her decision; she was going nowhere with this man.

  Rankin Blake began climbing up onto the buggy. He kept his revolver pointed at Beth and his eye on Henry as he did so. Beth felt the slight soreness in the heel of her hand where she had accidentally hit her 'father' with such good effect. Always quick at learning anything, Beth leaned forward as if she was going to help Blake, and then, with all the force she could muster, she brought the heel of her hand up against the underside of his nose. There was a loud crack this time and Blake flew backwards onto the road somehow still keeping to his feet. His nose began pouring blood.

  Henry had not even drawn either of his two revolvers while speaking to Blake but he drew now. He was fast... no hesitation. Blake had been given his chance of a peaceful solution and ignored it. Before the man could get off a shot, Henry fired twice. Blake dropped without a sound. Beth could see a pool of blood begin to leak from his body. She got down quickly and ran to Henry. He held her tightly and felt her trembling violently in his arms.