Sharon Poppen

by Hannah

  The brothers unbuckled their holsters and dropped them to the ground. Everyone followed suit.

  “Right smart there.” The rapist flashed a grotesque smile. “We oughta kill ya’ll, but I reckon the sun,” he fired at a water vat mounted near the engine, “the thirst and the critters will do it for me.” He called to his partner. “Start the milk cow walkin’.” He turned to the brothers. “Ya’ll try to stop us and this here momma and baby’ll go first.”

  After another grin, they rode off following the woman with the baby still at her breast. Looking over his shoulder, the man who had done all the talking kept watch on the stranded travelers.

  The silent vigil filled everyone with fear-laced frustration. A gunshot brought a communal shudder and the young mother dropped to the ground. The Canady horses galloped out of rifle range. Retrieving their guns, most of the men raced to the woman, while the railroad men went to see if the bullet hole in their water supply could be plugged.

  Liam lifted the woman and Frank picked up the infant. As they walked back, Liam paused in front of the railroad men. “We’ll need to bury her.”

  Without a word, Frank handed the baby to Hannah. She looked at the crying infant wrapped in a thin pink blanket. It wouldn’t remember this day. It wouldn’t remember the face of the man who had killed her mother. Hannah looked out in the direction the killers had gone. Her trembling rage was doing nothing to calm the baby. She took some deep breaths and rocked her arms while cooing softly over and over again, “I’ll remember for you.”

  Hannah cuddled the child as she watched the burial and the struggle to save the water. Looking south toward San Antonio, she whispered. “Beware, Drake. I remember.” She now had a third reason to live. And live she would, she vowed.

  Chapter 11

  The Baby

  A satisfied yawn and moist, puckering lips, assured Hannah that the canned milk found in the baggage car had satisfied the baby. She shouldered it for its burp. Her days in the orphanage came to mind bringing thoughts of Sister Margaret. Hannah wished the good Sister was here now. The woman had a compassion for children that never failed to calm and instill a sense of goodness and hope in her charges. The nun had been Hannah’s idol and mentor for as far back as she could remember. She hoped some of her strength of character and goodness of heart had rubbed off. This baby would need it.

  After a quick burp and a satisfied sigh, Hannah set the baby in the milk crate they’d converted into a crib. It snuggled into its pink blanket as Hannah caressed its cheek and wondered who’d tell this child how she came to be an orphan. Maybe someone would create a story and the child would never know the truth. Life brought on enough misery when adulthood arrived. Hannah thought that one’s childhood memories should be as pleasant as possible to sustain them when they faced the often ugly nature of man.

  Yes, a happy story, like the one Sister Margaret told. Hannah smiled down at the sleeping infant and thought about the nun’s story. She claimed that an angel left Hannah at the orphanage one Christmas Eve. The nuns and orphans had been draped in sorrow, no holiday spirit. An elderly nun had died that morning. After evening prayers, the nuns were serving cookies and milk when Sister Margaret heard a knock. Opening the front door, she found a small basket. Moving the coverlet, she found blue eyes smiling up at her. An abandoned child on their doorstep was not uncommon, but this was Christmas Eve and they’d just laid Sister Hannah to rest. They were convinced the new baby was an act of love. God was easing their loss. It was agreed that the infant be named Hannah and she’d share her birthday with Jesus. Even now, she didn’t care if it was true or not, Hannah loved the story and the special way it always made her feel.

  She looked over at her fellow stranded travelers. They were huddled near the large boulder resting on the tracks. Liam seemed in charge. He had a presence that drew people to him. Yes, she thought, Caleb had that presence. It hurt to remember that without a backward glance, on her eighteenth birthday, she’d left with the young man who delivered milk to the orphanage. His dream was to go west and start a cattle ranch. Her eyes swept to the horizon, toward San Antonio, toward the men who’d destroyed that dream. Her smile faded as she walked over to listen to Liam and the others.

  “Might work,” the conductor nodded.

  “Might tear up my engine.” A spit of tobacco punctuated the engineer’s concern.

  “Might,” agreed Liam. “But, if we don’t try, that engine won’t be any help when we’re dead of thirst.” He glanced around the circle of men. “Look, if we dig the trench and nudge the boulder along with the engine, it might roll off so we can use the track.”

  The railroad men exchanged glances. Finally, the brakeman spoke up as he began to rub his hands together. “Let’s give it a try.”

  Hannah watched the men tear into the littered baggage and railroad cars. Soon, using strips of wood, a couple of coal shovels, flat rocks and even shoes, they were digging a trench alongside the track and under the portion of the boulder not directly on the tracks. They worked into exhaustion and darkness set in.

  Precious water from the damaged water vat was meted out and all foodstuffs were collected from the baggage car, passengers and railroad men. Their meager supper consisted of such varied items as taffy, home-canned zucchini, several apples, a few oranges and canned beans found in a shipping crate. Thankfully, there were also a couple of cans of milk for the baby.

  Scattered among the seats in the passenger car, the men slept fitfully. Hannah frequently fed and diapered the baby to keep her quiet. Liam lounged in the seat across the aisle. Several times during the night, he offered help, but Hannah assured him the baby was fine and for him to sleep. Hannah was awake more than asleep and sensed Liam was too.

  After a breakfast mirroring their supper, the digging continued. Finally, it was decided to fire up the engine. The engineer and brakeman climbed into the cab while everyone else stood alongside the tracks. Their silence was a prayer of hopeful reverence. The engine roared to life. Over the din of the motor, the engineer spit tobacco and gave a thumbs up. The engine inched forward until it was halted by the weight it faced. The engine roar grew to a whine with increased throttle pressure. Hannah covered her ears to the shrill struggle. Liam kicked at the earth. Over the roar of the laboring engine, Hannah heard him curse.

  “Move, damn you. Move!”

  Then, along with the deafening roar, came a scraping sound and the engine moved. So slow, it was almost unnoticeable, but the boulder moved. It began to wobble and lean toward the trench.

  “Back!” Liam yelled as the boulder tipped forward and rolled down and off the tracks. The train moved on a few yards. The brakeman brought it to a halt far enough down the line to validate that the tracks hadn’t been compromised. They were free.

  Within the hour, after a short prayer at the makeshift grave of the baby’s mother, they were San Antonio bound. Hannah laid the baby next to her and turned to the window. There was no scenery, just desolation. It matched her feelings, except for the hate.

  “So, you’re on your way again.”

  Hannah turned to Liam. His long body stretched out in his seat across the aisle. His hat covered his face as though he’d been sleeping. “Yes.”

  He moved his hat onto the seat next to him, sat up and faced her. “To where?”

  She turned to the window to avoid his eyes. Eyes that offered... No, trust no one.

  “Hannah, talk to me.”

  She didn’t respond. She needed to focus on her husband’s killer, her rapists and the killer of the baby’s mother.

  “Hannah, when we get to San Antonio let us help you.”

  She turned to Liam. “You can’t help. There are things I need to do. Let me be.”

  After a few moments, Liam nodded and stood up. “Have it your way. We’ll leave you be.” He nodded his head toward the sleeping infant. “You and her.” He smiled and walked outside to the platform between the cars.

  Hannah’s glanced from the door to the baby at her sid
e. “The baby!”

  Chapter 12

  San Antonio

  The baby slept, blissfully unaware of the dilemma Liam’s remark had dropped on Hannah. He’d agreed to leave Hannah alone once they arrived in San Antonio, alone with the baby. My plans! I can’t chase Drake across Texas caring for a baby. Hannah wanted to go after Liam and tell him the baby was his responsibility, but she knew it wasn’t. She looked down the aisle for Frank and Daniel and found them sleeping. It wasn’t their problem, either. I promised to remember. I took on the responsibility.

  The baby uttered a short cry, wiggled a bit, and went back to sleep. A bad dream? I know what that’s like, little one. Hannah stroked the baby’s hair and wondered what she was going to do. She could only hope there would be someone in San Antonio who knew the baby’s mother and would take the child. With the hope of that possibility, Hannah managed to slip off to sleep.

  *****

  Before the train came to a complete stop at the San Antonio station, Hannah began gathering the baby’s meager belongings. She stuffed them into a canvas bag, flung it over shoulder and scooped up the sleeping infant. It nestled against Hannah’s breast and sighed contentedly.

  Hannah fought back images of the young mother being prodded off by those horrible men and shuddered at the memory of the gunshot that took the woman’s life. She kissed the baby’s forehead and mentally promised that she’d make Drake’s men pay for making this child an orphan.

  The train stopped and the passengers began to disembark. Hannah was one of the first off, while Daniel and Frank were the last. She smiled at them, but her eyes darted about looking for Liam.

  “He’s gone, Hannah,” Frank answered her search.

  “Gone? Where?”

  “He jumped off when the train began to slow for the station. Said he wanted to check out the stables. Look for our horses,” Frank said.

  “He told us to watch after you. Could be those murderin’ horse thieves are now mighty sorry they didn’t kill us and will come lookin’ for us,” Daniel explained.

  Despite the late afternoon heat, a crowd gathered when word got around that the sheriff and a couple of his deputies were called to the train station. Hannah scanned the locals who circled the railroad men talking with the lawmen. Neither the railroad men nor any of the passengers had any idea who the baby’s mother had been. Hannah hoped that a husband, a grandmother, a sister or someone would be meeting the train and would take the baby. That hope quickly dwindled and died. No one was searching for anyone.

  “Come, Hannah. Liam wants us to get a room. Said he’d find us. Said to get you a room, too.” Frank grabbed the baby’s canvas bag and urged Hannah to the door.

  “I can’t get a room. I’ve no money.”

  “Liam said you’d say that.” Daniel smiled.

  “Well, then you understand why I can’t let you ...” Hannah began.

  “He also said to ignore your protests and tell you the room is for the baby.” Daniel raised his eyebrows in a tease.

  Hannah had to agree. Until they could find someone to take the baby, it would need a roof over its head and food for its belly.

  Hannah moved toward the door and looked up at Frank. “Just until we get the baby placed somewhere.”

  “Until the baby’s placed,” he agreed.

  *****

  They’d found a couple of rooms in the Riverside Hotel. Now, hours later, Hannah looked out into the dark, deserted street below. Even the noisy saloons had settled down leaving the night eerily quiet. Every minute she was stuck in this room was giving those murderers and rapists more time to slip away, again. Her anger and sense of injustice had been tried to the point where she’d been tempted to abandon the baby, but one glance at the innocent little orphan dispelled that idea. Also, she needed to wait for Liam to find out if he’d learned anything that would help her search.

  Frank and Daniel were in the room next door to Hannah. They had made sure there was plenty of canned milk for the baby and had brought Hannah a supper plate. They hadn’t heard from Liam.

  A single knock to her door drew her from the window. “Who’s there?”

  “Liam. May I come in?”

  She opened the door with a barrage of questions. “Where have you been? What did you find out? Did you find those men? Is the sheriff looking for them? Did you find the horses? Did you find your brothers? Did you find someone to care for the baby? Did you --

  “Whoa, now.” Liam gently took her by the shoulders. “Slow down. Don’t know if I can answer all those questions. Don’t know if I can even remember all of them.”

  Hannah blushed slightly. “I’m sorry. There are things --

  “I know. Things you need to do. Alone.” He moved away from her, glanced down at the baby and took the only chair in the room. He motioned toward the bed. “Sit. I’ll tell you all I know.”

  Once Hannah was seated, he began. “Yes, I found Frank and Daniel. I didn’t find the men from the train, but the sheriff has their description and they’re searching for them. I found our horses in a stable. Two men had paid cash for three days keep when they dropped them off. But, they gave no names and no place where they could be reached.”

  Hannah shook her head. “We took too long. We should have searched the saloons as soon as the train stopped.”

  “Hannah, I’m sure they heard the train coming and skedaddled away before it arrived at the station.”

  “Maybe not. Maybe ...”

  Liam leaned forward. “What is it? What is driving you?”

  His words pricked at Hannah’s festering sores of murder and rape. The silence between them was magnetic. His eyes were drawing her nightmares into the realm of the waking world. Along with the nightmares came the mental and physical bile. She threw her head back and looked up to the ceiling. With a deep breath, the moment passed. She was back in control. She had a date with her husband’s murderer and her rapist.

  “Mr. Canady, please try to understand. There are things that I can’t talk about.”

  Liam waited.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  Liam sighed and shook his head. He glanced over at the baby. “What about her?”

  “What I need to do comes first.”

  “When?”

  “Now.”

  “Now?”

  Hannah stood up. “I’m sorry.” She opened the door.

  Liam moved to her side.

  “Please, don’t make this so hard.”

  He clutched her shoulders again and pressed his lips gently against hers. In the span of seconds, Hannah’s head inched back in surprise and then leaned into the possibilities his kiss offered, until a vision of Caleb crossed her mind. She cringed with guilt and wrenched herself from Liam’s grasp. “Don’t”

  He stepped back. “Take care of yourself.”

  Without answering, Hannah disappeared down the stairwell. Tears threatened and she could scarcely see where she was going. Oh Liam, why must you confuse things? I need to remain true to Caleb. I need to see that his killer pays. I need to focus on Drake.

  Hannah rushed outside into the cool night air, leaned against the door, and closed her eyes. Instead of thoughts of what she needed to do, thoughts of what she’d done crashed in on her. Liam’s kiss. I thought those feelings were dead.

  His lips had been gentle, like all his actions since she’d fallen into his care. Was it less than a week ago that the violent storm had taken her horse and belongings? Her fear of needing the care of Liam and his two brothers had evolved into a kindred sense of peace and safety. She remembered the feel of Liam’s hands as he’d worked salve into her feet, raw and bloody from her desert walk after the storm. And now, her shoulders tingled from his grasp. Her lips ached for his gentle kiss. She could go back up to the hotel room, to the baby, to Liam, to the promise of ...

  “No!” Hannah’s eyes flashed open. Her promise was to her slain husband and the baby’s dead mother. Her promise was revenge. She glanced up the dark, dusty street. Even at
this late hour, she could tell what buildings might be harboring her prey.

  Easing along, she came to a saloon and ventured a peek through a gaudily painted window. The bartender was alone at the bar. Four gamblers shared a table, but she didn’t recognize anyone. She spotted a couple at another table. He was talking and staring into his drink, while she was nodding, patting his back and trying to stifle a yawn. Her dress caught Hannah’s attention. The satiny material contrasted with Hannah’s denims, torn shirt and Daniel’s oversized boots. She turned away to think about where she could get some clothes. Without money, a store was out of the question, as was asking the Canadys.

  Laughter and a hearty, “Welcome, Sam. The missus bedded down for the night?” echoed into the darkness.

  Hannah looked across to a building with a red shaded lantern hung near the door. “Don’t worry ‘bout the missus, it’s the mister who needs some beddin’ down.”

  A woman giggled, “Sam, you devil.”

  Hannah had found her way to new clothes. Fighting off thoughts of Liam, by concentrating on the red lantern and what she’d find behind its door, she made her way across the street.

  *****

  An hour later, Hannah sat across from a slender woman dressed in black velvet. “That house you last worked at sounds like quite a place.” Coralee remarked and sipped her whiskey.

  “You’ve never heard of Ruby over in Nacogdoches?” Hannah hoped the madam would feel some sisterhood and offer help.

  “No. Been in several towns, but never Nacogdoches.” Coralee set her glass down. “So, what can I do for you?”

  “I’d appreciate the loan of some clothes.”

  “Loan? That’s asking some.”

  Hannah’s hope for sisterhood dissolved with a look into Coralee’s uncaring steely eyes. “Please, I need the clothes for something I need to do. I’ll find a way to pay for them with money, or ... At any rate, I will pay you.”