Frontier Highlander Vow of Love (American Wilderness Series Romance Book 4)

by Dorothy Wiley

  “I know that,” he shouted. “And if I just run, that sheriff will chase me all the way to Canada for killing his deputy.”

  Artis gasped. The poor deputy. “How could ye have killed him? He was so young.” She began to shake as she realized the grave danger she was in. He wasn’t just a robber, he was a murderer.

  Somehow, she had to survive this. She willed herself to stand tall and clenched her fists to keep them from shaking.

  “Killing him was the only way to escape hanging. When he brought me some water, I reached through the bars and strangled him. He had the keys to the jail on him.” The man’s voice held no hint of regret, but he sounded tense and his expression darkened. He went to the window and peeked out but kept the pistol trained on her.

  While his eyes were turned, she reached a hand toward the table that held the clan badge and luckenbooth brooch. Slowly she slipped the badge into her pocket.

  “Let’s get going, no one’s out there,” he said.

  She cringed when she realized he meant to take her. A tight knot formed in her stomach and her heartbeat grew more rapid. What did he intend to do with her? Why was he taking her? Where were they going?

  Bear, I need ye.

  “Move,” he shouted, pointing to the door with his weapon.

  She grabbed her shawl, walked out, and proceeded toward the front door.

  “No, we’ll go out the back. My horse is tied down there.” He shoved her toward the rear of the house. “Get your horse saddled and do it quickly.”

  As they passed the food left from the wedding feast, he grabbed a biscuit and a hunk of ham and cheese. With a mouthful of food, he said, “Hurry.”

  Artis picked up her pace and rushed down to where Beautiful stood in her pen. Her mare greeted her with a whinny. As she saddled the horse, she was glad Bear had already fed Beautiful when he fed Camel.

  William had taken Steller’s stallion to the fort for safe keeping. She was thankful he did or this despicable man would have undoubtedly stolen him.

  She heard the man chewing vigorously behind her and then burping. The disgusting sounds made her nauseous. She tied her shawl in front of her, yanking the knot tight with her growing anger.

  She couldn’t believe her first wonderful morning in her new home had changed so quickly. Biting her lip, she peered in the direction of the road. But there was no sign of Bear or anyone else. Should she try to run? If so, she should wait until she was horseback. Then she could make a mad dash for Whispering Hills. No, that would not be smart. She didn’t want to bring this trouble on Kelly or her father. She could try racing toward Boonesborough, but he would probably just shoot her in the back. That thought horrified her. She would just have to wait until she had a chance to slip away.

  Or kill him.

  She finished saddling and wondered if Bear would even be able to find their tracks. Dozens of construction workers’ horses, wagons, and equipment had already torn up and trampled the grasses and shrubs behind their house. The workers and their horses muddled the ground in both directions.

  “Mount up,” he ordered. “And remember, you already learned what the lead from my weapon feels like. So don’t even turn around unless I tell you to. Actually, this is the young deputy’s weapon, but I’m sure your back would not know the difference.” He chuckled at his own attempt at humor.

  It made her mad. “Ye will never get away with this,” she seethed, making her voice harsh and her anger evident.

  “Maybe. Maybe not. But I will get even.”

  Artis followed the robber’s directions. Actually, she told herself, he was a cruel murderer and she would be well advised to remember that. They wove through the dense trees and brush going in a southwesterly direction. He was clearly staying away from the main roads, but where were they going?

  “What’s yer name?” she asked him, leaning only her head back so that he could hear her. If William ever mentioned it, she couldn’t remember what it was.

  “Jacob Miller,” he answered.

  “Mister Miller, where are we goin’? I insist that ye tell me.”

  “You will learn soon enough Missus. Just keep going the same direction. And make haste.”

  Within but a few minutes at a gallop, they came across a swiftly moving creek. It must be the one that fed the stream that ran alongside their new home—Highland. She treasured the name Bear had suggested and longed with all her heart to be back there.

  “Lead your horse into the middle of the water and then turn upstream,” he said.

  She did as he asked, but soon tried to exit up the creek bank, knowing that the longer they stayed in the water, the harder it would be for Bear to track her.

  He growled, “Stay in the center until I tell you otherwise.”

  In several places, the water grew deeper, reaching to her boots, but Beautiful navigated the waters bravely. Then the water rose to just below her knees and the current grew stronger. Her horse, wanting to get on land again, tried to swim to the bank. She had to keep urging her mare to stay in the middle of the creek. Pushing against the current, the horses were growing tired. She was as well. Fortunately, the depth of the water rapidly lessened and Beautiful’s breathing eased.

  But the longer they stayed in the water, the more difficult it became. The two horses struggled to keep pushing their hooves through the mud and their bodies through the water—shallow in places, deep in others.

  Miller doggedly stayed right behind her, his weapon trained on her. Her exposed back started to tremble. Soon it felt like the shadow of death followed her.

  Her mind began to quake with anxiety. The thought of another painful bullet wound filled her with terror. It became a constant struggle not to let fear overwhelm her.

  Her heart, so recently overflowing with happiness, grew heavy with despair. She didn’t want to die. She had so much to live for. Bear most of all!

  Chapter 37

  “Artis! Artis!” Bear yelled as they stormed through the front door. But he only heard the echo of his desperate cries in their still nearly empty house.

  William ran from room to room and Bear raced to the bedroom. He could smell Artis’ scent the second he entered.

  But she wasn’t there.

  His heart was already breaking. What had happened to her? Crestfallen, he was about to leave when his eye caught sight of their table. Her brooch remained on the pewter plate but his clan pin was missing. She must have taken it. The thief would have stolen the more valuable luckenbooth with its beautiful stones. Why? Was she trying to send him a message? Or did she want to take a part of him with her?

  He heard William searching the upstairs rooms.

  “She’s not up here,” William called down. “Perhaps she’s just outdoors or went for a ride on Beautiful,” he suggested as he quickly descended the wooden staircase.

  But they both knew better. They raced out the back door. “Careful, let’s check for tracks,” Bear said, holding William back with his arm. He studied the ground trying to remember if Artis had walked behind their house as yet. He didn’t think she had. He’d asked her to stay away until the workers cleared all the construction debris and smoothed out the ground. She’d barely had time to see the inside of the house before their wedding.

  But her boot print was clearly visible in the moist earth. The grass had not yet had time to grow back after all the construction.

  “Look, there’s her boot and a fresh print of a man walkin’ behind her,” Bear said, pointing to the spots. He was dismayed to find that his hand was trembling. “Damn it! He was here. William, he’s taken her.” His voice broke with huskiness.

  “Miller didn’t kill her. As far as we know, she’s alive. But he likely had a gun pointed on her back since he was following her,” William theorized.

  Bear fought to control his growing anxiety. And anger. He couldn’t help Artis if he lost control of his emotions.

  The two sets of tracks led to the new stable and they found Beautiful missing as well. Bear stepped i
nto the mare’s pen and studied her hoof prints. He wanted to memorize their size and shape to distinguish them from the many others in their yard. Like a dog following a scent he kept his face near the ground, sometimes going in circles, until he found where the horse’s prints led. Then he began following them on foot. “Get our horses,” he called back to William. “And fill our canteens.”

  “All right and I’ll write a quick note and leave it under a rock by your front door. If I don’t make it back home tonight, Kelly will grow worried and send her father out to look for me. He’ll likely come here first.”

  Bear kept studying the ground on foot until he found the prints of another horse, which had stood tied in the same place for some time. Beautiful’s prints continued going in a southwesterly direction, but this time another horse followed. It had to be Miller’s mount.

  At least she was alive. But for how long? Would Miller kill her because he killed the man’s brother? If only he’d known that killing the store’s robbers would lead to this.

  Oh God, please, please, do na let anythin’ happen to her.

  Bear continued on foot even after William caught up to him. Nearly blinded with worry and fury, he needed to stay close to the ground to be sure he didn’t miss anything.

  Shortly, the tracks disappeared into a brisk creek. But which direction did they go? Upstream or down? Or did they cross?

  “They wouldn’t have gone in the direction of Boonesborough,” William suggested.

  “Agreed.” He mounted, but went to the other side of the bank. He wanted to be sure they didn’t cross here. He searched up and down the creek bank and found nothing.

  “He stayed in the water to conceal his trail,” Bear finally said. “Let’s go!”

  With every step of the horses, Bear’s worry grew. He had to keep making himself focus on the creek bank to his left as he looked for signs that the two had exited the water. William watched the right bank.

  They followed the creek’s course for about an hour until it forked. “We have a fifty-fifty chance of choosing the right direction to go,” William said. “Or do you want to split up and we each take a different direction?”

  William’s question caused a tumult in Bear’s brain. His thoughts raced. “It’s near impossible for one person to watch both banks for signs of exit. It can be done, but only at a snail’s pace and we need to hurry. The consequences of making the wrong choice could be disastrous.”

  “Perhaps she left some sign,” William suggested.

  Bear agreed. He began searching at once and William did the same at the beginning of the right fork. After several long minutes and about to give up, he spotted it. The smallest twig hung broken on a low-hanging cypress tree branch jutting out over the left fork. “Here,” he said, pointing to the spot.

  “You’re sure?” William asked.

  “Aye, it’s too high for an animal to have done it and it has not been broken long. The wood is still moist within the twig. And look, there’s another one,” he said, pointing.

  “Let’s go get them,” William said.

  They rode side by side through the varying depths of the creek, continuing to keep a careful watch for any signs of exiting to the bank, until the waterway branched again—one branch flowing from the northwest and the one on the left streaming from the southwest. They halted, and Bear studied both sides of the deeper stream.

  “It worked once, maybe she did it again,” William said.

  They both started examining all the foliage on either side. But nearly fifteen minutes later, they had found nothing. Bear’s mind clouded with uneasiness. Should they split up? They had a better chance of rescuing Artis with both of them to help. But if they chose the wrong direction, the delay could be costly and they might not rescue her at all. And they had to hurry. He needed to decide quickly.

  “What lies to the north?” he asked William.

  “A small settlement or two not far from here. Then a few native villages further north.”

  “And to the south and west?”

  “Nothing to the west that I know of,” William answered. “To the south there are a few settlements, but they are some distance away.”

  Bear took the left branch and William followed. The murderer would want to avoid anyone spotting him, so that direction was the logical choice.

  As they passed each turn in the stream, Bear’s anxiety grew. He continually expected to find her around the next bend. When he didn’t, his uncertainty grew and made him doubt his decision to take the left fork. If they were wrong, it could mean Artis’ life. “Do ye think we took the right way?” he asked after several miles of no sign of her.

  “There’s no way to know for sure, but yes I do,” William said, continuing to keep his eyes focused on the opposite bank. “We’ll find them. And when we do, you keep Artis safe and let me take care of Miller. I have a necktie social I want to invite him too.”

  Bear heard the anger beneath William’s carefully controlled voice, as his brother used the common term for a hanging. The young deputy’s death had hit him hard.

  “Does anyone else know Miller killed Mitchell and escaped?”

  “I’m sure they know by now. When I found my deputy lying there, his body was already growing cold. That whoreson strangled the boy. Choked the life right out of him. I knew I had to warn you and Artis since Miller already tried to exact revenge on you once before. So I just jumped back on Smoke and raced off. In hindsight, I should have told someone. But I’m sure, when none of us showed up for court, Judge Webb figured out that something was wrong and headed for the jail. He’s probably organizing a posse from the militia right now. But they will never find us unless he locates a tracker as skilled as you. You could follow a wood tick on solid rock.”

  “Followin’ one through water is a wee bit harder. Unless we figure out where they exited the water, we’ll never find their tracks.” That possibility made his entire body tighten. He twisted the reins in his hands. All his nervousness slipped back to grip his gut.

  For some time, Bear continued to study the creek bank diligently. Several times they thought they had found something, but every time it turned out to be an animal leaving the creek after watering. Each time, his disappointment grew.

  He stirred uneasily in the saddle and asked, “Why do ye think he took her? If it was just revenge, he would have killed her back at our house.”

  “He needed a hostage in case we caught up to him,” William said. “He thinks we won’t shoot him if he has a gun on her.”

  The explanation seemed plausible, but set off even more alarms in Bear’s head. “So when we do catch up to the bastard, he’ll likely try to exchange her for his freedom. How can we trust the fiend?”

  “We can’t. He’s not a man of scruples, but he’ll bargain with us, expecting us to honor our word. He’ll want our promise that we won’t pursue him. He’ll likely say he’ll take her with him for a distance and force us to stay back. Then, if he keeps his word, which is doubtful, he’ll release her.”

  Bear did not see any good scenarios in the situation, but he did see several possibilities for bad outcomes. “I do na like this one wee bit,” he spat. His temper flared again.

  “I agree. There’s much at stake.”

  Bear’s fears mounted, stronger than ever. Something nagged at the back of his mind. “Whatever Miller’s plan is, we’ll have to be smarter than he is,” he said.

  “First we have to find her.”

  We’re comin’ Artis. I swear it!

  Chapter 38

  Was Miller going to shoot her here in the creek? Would that be his revenge on Bear? Even if the shot didn’t kill her, she might drown in the water, unable to pull herself to land. Would her body lie rotting in the water until Bear found her?

  She needed to dispel thoughts of dying—just thinking of it tore at her insides and built fearful images in her mind. The dark thoughts made her more afraid of herself than of him. She had to get a grip on her emotions or she would lose her
ability to fight when the time came.

  And fight she would!

  The only way she was going to survive this was to replace her fear with strength and cunning. She would not allow any more dire thoughts into her head. She needed to keep her heart cold and still—erect a wall of defense against him. She took a few deep breaths, trying to release the tight knot clutching her lungs and throat. She tried to relax her shoulders, so tight with tension it felt like her muscles had turned to layers of rock. She reached into her pocket and let her fingertips caress the precious clan badge. She squeezed her eyes shut and pictured it on Bear’s broad chest.

  When she opened her eyes, she made herself focus on the beauty around her for a few minutes—the warm fall colors on the trees that lined the bank; the sound of a cardinal tweeting nearby; the rays of light that streamed through the tree branches and lit the leaf-lined forest floor.

  It would be paradise if not for the man who rode behind her.

  Think, Artis, think. Use your wits, she told herself. You have your dirk. Actually two weapons. The clan badge had a sturdy pin that would serve too. Miller’s stay in jail clearly weakened the man. He has one bad shoulder and arm. He didn’t appear to be particularly intelligent or clever. And the horse he was riding, likely stolen from the fort’s stables, did not look as stout or as young as Beautiful. She was obviously better mounted and judging from the graceless way he sat his horse, she would bet she was a better rider than Miller.

  But she needed to remember that Miller was motivated by revenge. She understood herself just how powerful that motivation can be. If circumstances had permitted, she would have sought vengeance against Steller for murdering her mother. In fact, in the past, she fantasized about doing just that, many times, especially on her voyage across the ocean. Like Miller, she would have risked everything to be able to make Steller pay for what he did.

  It would likely be useless to try to persuade him to release her, but she had to try. “Mister Miller, if I could convince my husband and his brother not to follow ye, would ye let me go?”