by Cox, Carol
She ran to the front of the cabin and joined him in the single room. The men stood next to their overturned chairs behind a rickety table where a lamp flickered. To her left was a rusty cookstove.
And over near the far wall sat Jenny, bound hand and foot to a chair. Even in the dim glow of the lamp, the bright red imprint of a hand showed clearly on her cheek. Her head drooped listlessly. Was she unconscious or merely dazed from the blow she’d received?
Elizabeth edged toward her, keeping her shotgun aimed toward Lester and Ames.
“Both of you, throw down your guns and get over there against the wall,” Michael said.
Two pistols thudded to the floor, and the men stepped back slowly. “Ain’t no call for you to be interfering,” Lester whined. “We’re just trying to reclaim what’s rightfully ours.”
Michael’s expression could have been carved out of stone. “Guardianship doesn’t give you the right to abuse a woman. We aren’t about to stand by and let that happen.”
“Ames!” Michael hollered at the big man. “Move away from the window. Elizabeth, keep them covered while I find something to tie them with.” He rummaged through the goods Jenny’s abductors had piled in a corner.
Burleigh Ames lifted his left hand, which still held the bottle of whiskey. “You won’t begrudge me a last drink before you truss me up, will you?” He raised his arm slowly, then drew it back and flung the bottle straight at Michael.
Elizabeth shouted a warning. Michael jumped to one side. The bottle hit the lamp, then both rolled off the table and across the floor in a spray of whiskey, flame, and shattered glass.
In the near darkness, Elizabeth saw Ames dive for his gun. Michael kicked it out of the way. Ames then reached for Michael, and the two grappled and rolled across the floor.
Flames licked up the wall, catching the tattered tarp that hung near the window and spreading into a blaze.
“Michael!” she screamed. “We’ve got to get out of here!” The place was a tinderbox. It wouldn’t take more than a few minutes for the whole shack to be consumed. Fighting desperately to keep his gun hand out of Burleigh’s reach, he didn’t answer.
Martin Lester started toward the door. “Hold it right there,” she told him. “You don’t move until I tell you to.”
“Elizabeth?”
She glanced over her shoulder. Jenny stared at the floor, unable to move away from the flames that crept dangerously close to the hem of her skirt. Elizabeth saw movement at the edge of her vision and swung back around. Lester had taken advantage of her momentary distraction and was on the floor scrabbling for his gun.
No time for orders or threats. In one fluid movement, she brought the barrel of the shotgun down on his head, producing a dull thud. He dropped flat and lay still.
“Elizabeth!” Jenny, fully alert now, was straining away from the flames with terror-filled eyes.
Elizabeth wrapped her arms around Jenny’s body and dragged her backward, chair and all. She dropped to her knees and pulled frantically at the ropes.
“Knife. By the stove.” Jenny’s voice came in staccato bursts.
By the stove. . . There it was! Elizabeth seized it and raced back to Jenny. She sawed through the ropes with relative ease, giving thanks for the sharp blade.
When the last strand had been cut, she pulled Jenny out of the chair. Jenny sagged against her, and she braced herself to support the girl’s weight.
“Get her out!” Michael yelled.
She had no problem finding her way to the door. The flames that now covered two walls and threatened a third bathed the cabin in a bright yellow light.
She half-carried, half-dragged Jenny to a spot a safe distance from the burning shack. She sat Jenny down and set the shotgun beside her, then turned back to the blazing building—Michael was still inside.
She raced back to the doorway, pushing forward despite the heat of the flames. Burleigh Ames had both hands wrapped around Michael’s throat, slowly choking the life out of him.
Elizabeth grabbed the chair Jenny had occupied and raised it high above her head. With every ounce of strength she possessed, she brought it down on Burleigh Ames’s shoulders.
He reared back with a loud bellow, loosening his hold on Michael, who pulled his fist back and flattened Ames with a crushing blow to the temple. Elizabeth backed out the door as Michael seized the unconscious man’s collar and dragged him outside. Martin Lester roused and stumbled out the door behind them seconds before the roof collapsed, sending a shower of sparks skyward.
❧
Michael returned with the wagon just as Burleigh Ames sat up and moaned. Elizabeth sat guard with the shotgun, covering both him and Martin Lester.
Michael scooped Jenny up as if she weighed no more than a sack of feathers and laid her in the back of the wagon. He turned to Elizabeth and lifted her to the seat. “Time to go home,” he said.
“Wait a minute,” Lester called. “What about us?”
Michael stepped up to the wagon seat and gave him a look of contempt. “Consider yourselves lucky to be alive.”
“You don’t mean you’re going to leave us here? Where’s our horses?”
“Halfway to Prescott,” Michael said. He pulled a canteen from the wagon bed behind him and tossed it onto the ground near Lester’s feet.
“You can’t take her from me! I know my rights.”
“You’d better ration that water,” Michael told him. “It’s a long walk home. It should give both of you plenty of time to think about those rights of yours.” A rumble of thunder rolled across the sky. “And I’d get started soon, if I were you. It looks like it’s going to rain any time now.”
The moon shone in the eastern sky, still free of the clouds that were blowing in from the west. Elizabeth blessed the fact that it gave them light to retrace their path back to the south road. She looked at Jenny’s slender form, huddled in the wagon bed.
“Are you all right?” A stupid thing to ask, considering all the girl had gone through, but she needed to hear something from Jenny’s lips.
She stared up at Elizabeth. “How did you get away to come find me? I can’t go back to town with you.”
“Get away? What do you mean?”
“Martin Lester drove around back when I was taking out the trash last night. It nearly scared me to death when I saw who it was. He told me Burleigh had gone in the front door and had you tied up inside. He said Burleigh would kill you if I didn’t go with him.”
“Oh, Honey! So that’s why you went off with him without a fight.” She leaned over to stroke Jenny’s hair. “That didn’t happen. It was all a lie.”
Jenny’s countenance crumpled. “I should have known. He never told me the truth about anything before. . .except when he said he was trading me to Burleigh.” She reached up for Elizabeth’s hand and squeezed it. “I was so scared.”
“So were we, Honey. So were we.”
Jenny’s fingers relaxed their grip. “She’s asleep,” Elizabeth told Michael.
“She has to be exhausted after what she’s been through.” He put his arm around Elizabeth and pulled her head to his shoulder. “You probably are, too. Why don’t you try to sleep on the way back?”
“I couldn’t possibly. I’m still too stirred up.”
The next thing she knew, Michael was shaking her gently. “We’re home,” he said. She let him help her down, then held the door open while he carried Jenny to her room.
After he left the room, she helped Jenny undress and put her to bed. When she came back into the kitchen, Michael had coffee ready.
“How is she?”
Elizabeth rested her elbow on the table and propped her head on her hand. “Physically, I’d say she’s all right. A little banged up from being bounced around in the back of Martin Lester’s wagon, but nothing a good night’s sleep and a few days of rest won’t cure. As far as her thinking, though. . .” Her voice trailed off.
“It’s only natural for her to be scared. She’s been through qui
te an ordeal.”
“She isn’t scared, Michael. She’s angry.”
“At Lester and Ames? That may be a good thing. Anger’s more of a tonic than fear any day.”
“Not at them. At God. According to her, this is just one more time He let her down.”
Michael leaned back in his chair. “Wait a minute. What about Him leading us right to her and keeping her protected all that time? Doesn’t He get any credit for that?”
Elizabeth shook her head wearily. “The way she sees it, He could have kept them from nabbing her in the first place, but He didn’t. Further proof in her mind that while He may love everybody else, He doesn’t love Jenny Davis.” She laced her fingers together so tightly her knuckles turned white. “What should I do? I don’t know how to reach her.”
Michael reached across the table and covered both her hands with his. “You once told me you can’t force a person to believe. You can only point the way for them. I think that applies here as well.”
“Maybe. But I’m not giving up on her.”
A glimmer of laughter sparked in his eyes. “I never for a moment thought that you would.”
Without moving the hand covering hers, Michael scooted his chair closer and leaned toward her. “Jenny isn’t the only one who was scared tonight.”
Her hand tightened under his. “What do you mean?”
“When I was on the floor, wrestling with Burleigh Ames, I looked up and saw you standing in the middle of that inferno. It occurred to me that maybe neither one of us would make it out of there.” He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb.
She searched his eyes. “And that scared you?”
“More than you can imagine. You know what else scares me? The idea of living the rest of my life without you.” He pushed back his chair and stood, pulling her up with him.
“I know you treasure your independence. Your strength is one of the things I admire most about you. God placed us both here and brought us together. It seems to me He must have had a reason.”
He lifted both her hands in his and pressed them against his heart. “I know this isn’t the setting we would have had back home. I would have asked for your father’s consent and come to you with a ring in my pocket. And I’m sure your mother would be shocked at the idea of me proposing to you in your kitchen. Although,” he added with a smile that sent a glow flowing through her like warm honey, “I can’t think of a more pleasant place to be.”
Raising her hands to his lips, he kissed each fingertip. “I guess there’s another thing that scares me, and that’s the possibility that you may say no. But what scares me even more is the thought I should have asked you and didn’t.” Keeping his gaze locked on hers, he bent down on one knee.
“I love you, Elizabeth. Love you and admire you for your courage and your spirit. I can’t imagine life without you. Will you marry me?”
When had the tears started flowing down her cheeks? She looked down at her dear Michael’s face. Here was a man who accepted her as she was. The man God had put in her life. The man she wanted in her life forever. “I’d be honored to,” she whispered.
Michael bounded to his feet and wrapped his arms around her in a crushing embrace. “Thank You, Lord,” she heard him whisper. Then he lowered his head to hers and kissed her with an intensity that drove all other thoughts from her mind.
❧
Dear Carrie,
You’ve complained that I haven’t included enough adventure in my letters of late. Settle back in a comfortable chair, dear sister, for what I am about to relate will satisfy even your romantic soul. . . .
About the Author
Carol Cox is a native of Arizona whose time is devoted to being a pastor’s wife, keeping up with her college-age son’s schedule, home schooling her young daughter, and serving as a church pianist, youth worker, and 4-H leader. She loves any activity she can share with her family in addition to her own pursuits in reading, crafts andlocal history. She also has had several novels and novellas published. Carol and her family make their home in northern Arizona.
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I love to hear from my readers! You may correspond with me by writing:
Carol Cox
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