by Elle James
Chapter 9
Sam had his gun out, his gaze glued to the direction Grunt had gone. He prayed the last gunshot hadn’t been aimed at the retired military war dog. If Grunt was dead, Sam would kill the bastard who’d shot him.
Who would be firing off rounds during this time of year? It wasn’t hunting season. Whoever had been shooting couldn’t be target practicing with only two shots, unless the gun had jammed. The only other reason Sam could think someone would be shooting was at them. He hated leaving Reggie, but he had to find out who was doing the shooting and at what. If it was someone shooting at them, he’d take him out. And he couldn’t do that with Reggie at his side.
He glanced around and found a large boulder near to where they were crouched below the top of the hill. “See that boulder?” he whispered.
Reggie’s gaze darted to where he was pointing, and she nodded, her eyes wide, her face pale.
“We’re going to crawl to that boulder and get behind it.”
Reggie made no move toward the boulder. She remained frozen in place.
“Come on, Reggie. I’ll go with you. But you have to move.” He took her hand. “On three. One…Two…Three.” He started toward the boulder, tugging on her hand.
Eventually, she moved, crawling on her hands and knees until she rounded the boulder and hunkered behind it.
Sam waited for a moment and tipped her chin up to face him. “Are you okay?”
She nodded.
“Let me hear you tell me you’re okay.”
She swallowed hard and whispered. “I’m okay.”
“Good. I want you to stay here. Don’t move. Don’t make a sound. I’m going after whoever fired those shots.”
Reggie’s hand shot out, grabbing his arm. “No. Don’t leave me.”
He patted her hand and disengaged it from his arm. “We can’t stay here and hide forever. It’ll get dark and make it dangerous for us to walk back along the river.”
“What if he was shooting at us? What if he shoots you?” She turned her hand and gripped his. “I don’t want you to die.”
“Reggie, this is what I do. I’m trained for this kind of mission. I’ll be all right.” He brushed his lips across her forehead. “Trust me.”
“Promise me you won’t die,” she said, her gaze on his, a frown marring her brow.
He held up his hand as if swearing in court. “I promise. Now, let me go before he finds us or gets away. And I need to check on Grunt.”
Her frown deepened. “Do you think he shot Grunt?”
“I won’t know until I go look.” He uncurled her fingers from his jacket sleeve and gave her a pointed look. “Stay down and keep quiet. I’ll be back as quickly as I can.”
He left her hunkered low behind the boulder and eased his way through the brush in the direction Grunt had gone. The dog had a good nose for finding more than bombs. If anyone could find the shooter, it was Grunt. Sam prayed the last shot hadn’t been at the dog.
Sam moved through the trees and underbrush, keeping to the shadows, his gun drawn.
Rustling in the leaves made him stop and listen.
Grunt’s bark made him start moving again. If the dog was barking, he hadn’t been injured. Sam reasoned that Grunt would whine if he’d been hit.
He followed the sound of Grunt’s barking and came to a small forest glen between tall pines.
Grunt stood near the center, barking at something lying on the ground.
The figure on the ground kicked four long, slender legs.
From what Sam could see, they were the legs of another animal. It was too small to be an elk. It had to be a deer.
Sam sensed more than saw movement at the other side of the clearing. A teenaged boy stood near the edge of the glade, a rifle raised to his shoulder, aiming at Grunt.
Sam’s heart skipped several beats. “Don’t shoot!” he shouted and ducked low.
The boy swung his weapon toward the sound of Sam’s voice and fired off a round.
The bullet went wide, missing Sam completely.
The boy’s eyes widened, and he muttered a curse and took off running away from the glen, the deer and Sam.
Sam holstered his gun and ran after him. Grunt ran ahead.
“Grunt, bleib!” Sam yelled, afraid the dog would get caught up in the chase and rip into the boy.
Grunt skidded to a halt and remained where he stood as Sam ran past.
It took him far too long to catch up to the teen. Only by anticipating his moves did Sam finally catch him in a flying tackle.
The boy slammed to the ground, his rifle skittering out of his reach in the dust.
“Let me go!” the teen grunted, pinned to the ground beneath Sam’s heavier body.
“Not until you tell me what the hell you were doing?” Sam sat up, yanked one of the boy’s hands behind his back and up between his shoulder blades.
“Hey, not so hard,” the young man said. “That hurts.”
“Yeah. And being shot at can get a man killed.” Sam gripped the teen’s elbow and yanked him to his feet. “Explain yourself.”
The teen dipped his head, refusing to look Sam in the eye. “I don’t have to explain anything. I got just as much right to be out in the woods as anyone else. It’s a national forest, which makes it public property. Now, let go of me.” He jerked his arm but couldn’t free it from Sam’s grip.
“You might have a right to be in the woods, but it isn’t hunting season. Let’s go back to that clearing and see what you’ve been up to.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Maybe going back there will remind you.” Sam started for the clearing.
“I can’t leave my rifle. It’s all I have.”
Sam reached down and grabbed the rifle in one hand without letting go of the teen. Then he marched the young man back to the clearing where the animal lay on the ground near Grunt.
It was a white-tail deer, shot through the chest, no longer kicking. It lay still. Dead.
“Care to explain where that wound came from?” Sam used the rifle to point at the bullet hole.
“It was an accident,” the boy said. “I was doing some target practice when that deer ran out in front of my bullet.”
“Yeah, and I’m George Washington.”
“You’re George, and I’m Abe. So, let go of me.” He leaned away from Sam, his feet digging into the ground.
“Why are you hunting out of season?” Sam demanded. “You might as well tell me. I’m not letting you go until I get some answers.”
The teen twisted and turned but couldn’t break free of Sam’s stronger grip. Finally, he stood still, his shoulders slumped, a scowl on his young face. “Hunting season is dumb.”
“Why?”
“A person’s gotta eat more than just in the fall during hunting season. What’s he supposed to do the rest of the year?” He kicked his worn boot across the ground.
Sam stared closely at the young man. He was painfully thin, and his clothes were torn and threadbare. The oversized jacket he wore hung on bony shoulders with holes in the elbows. His boot laces were only tied halfway up as if the laces had been broken off too many times to go any higher.
“You’re hunting for food?” Sam asked, his voice less stern, concern replacing anger.
“What do you think I’m doing? A guy’s gotta eat.” He tipped his chin toward the deer. “That’ll feed us…me for a week.” He glared up at Sam. “You got your answers. Now, let go of me.”
Sam’s eyes narrowed. “If you were hunting for food, why were you aiming at my dog?”
“I shot that deer fair and square.” The boy’s chin lifted, defiantly. “I wasn’t going to let no stray dog eat it before I got the chance.”
“What’s your name?” Sam demanded.
“I told you,” he said. “You’re George, and I’m Abe.”
“Where do you live?” Sam asked.
“I ain’t gotta tell you nothin’,” Abe said.
“Okay,
then, you’re coming with me.” Sam led him back the way they’d come, collecting Grunt along the way to the boulder where Reggie hid. “Ginnie, you can come out. I’ve caught the shooter.”
Reggie peeked out from behind the rock, her brow forming a V. “That’s a kid.”
“I know. And he was shooting this.” He held up the rifle. “Since he refuses to take me to his home, we’re going to take him back to Eagle Rock and turn him over to the sheriff.”
Abe fought to get away. “You can’t take me to the sheriff. I gotta go home.”
“Not if you don’t take me with you,” Sam said. “Those are your choices. You take me to your home, or I take you to the sheriff and let him take you home or to jail. It’ll be up to him.”
The teen glared at Sam for a long moment.
“Guess we’re going to the sheriff.” Sam pushed the boy toward the trail leading back the way he and Reggie had come.
“Okay, okay, I’ll take you to my house,” Abe said, a frown denting his forehead. “But can we take the deer with us?”
“Isn’t that a little heavy for someone your size to carry through the woods?” Sam asked.
The boy again lifted his chin. “I can carry twice my weight as long as it’s strapped to my back. Besides, it was a little deer.”
Sam kept his grip on the teen all the way back to where the deer lay on the ground.
“You gotta let me go long enough to field dress it,” the boy said. “I’m not carrying the whole thing back, just what’s edible.”
Sam couldn’t believe he was going to let the young man loose to field dress the deer, but he suspected the deer was all the kid had to eat. So, he helped him dress the deer and strap what was usable to the boy’s back.
“We gotta hurry. When it gets dark, the wolves come out. They’ll take what’s mine, if I let ’em.” Abe led the way down the hill, picking his way across a ravine and through tall stands of pines and Douglas firs.
As they came to another clearing, Abe stopped and turned to Sam, his brow furrowing. “Look. You can take me to the sheriff, or whatever, just don’t do it until Mama gets home to watch out for the young’uns.” He glanced down at Grunt. “Does your dog bite?”
“No,” Sam said.
“Well, keep him close. I don’t want him causin’ trouble.” Abe descended a hillside into what was little more than an old deer camp, complete with shoddy camp trailers arranged in a semicircle around a native stone fire pit.
He stopped by the stone circle and let the deer carcass slide off his narrow shoulders onto the stones. “You all gonna stand there starin’ or come help me get this meat cut up and ready to cook?”
Sam glanced around at what had, at first, appeared to be a deserted camp.
Then, one by one, children emerged from the shadows of the trailers and the brush surrounding the camp.
“They’re just babies,” Reggie whispered beside him.
Sam’s gut clenched as he counted. One…two…three, four…five. The fifth was a female of maybe thirteen or fourteen, carrying a baby that couldn’t have been more than six months old. All of them wore ragged clothing and needed a bath.
The teenaged girl handed the baby off to another girl a couple years younger and hurried forward. “Abe, what you doin’ bringing strangers home with you? You know Mama doesn’t like us talkin’ to strangers.”
Sam’s lips twitched. So, the boy hadn’t been lying when he’d said his name was Abe. “Who are all these children?” Sam asked.
Abe stood with his feet slightly apart, his shoulders back and his head held high. “These children are my family. Ain’t no one gonna split us up or send us off in different directions. Our mama is takin’ care of us. We don’t need no stinkin’ government ladies shipping us off to foster homes.”
Sam held up his hands. “I’m not with the government. But is it safe for you all to be out here alone without adult supervision?”
“Mama’s our adult supervision.” The teenaged girl came to stand beside Abe. “We don’t need anyone else.”
“Where’s your father?” Reggie asked.
Abe spit on the ground. “The bastard ran off after baby Jake was born. Damned drunk and coward. Beat up on Mama every chance he’d get.”
The girl’s lip curled back in a snarl. “We’re better off without him. One less mouth to feed.” She tipped her chin toward Sam and Reggie. “What do you want with us?”
Sam scratched his head. “I wanted to make sure Abe got home with his kill.”
“Well, I’m home,” Abe said. “You can leave now.”
“I’d like to talk to your mother before we go.”
Abe shot a glance at his sister. “She don’t get home for a while. She works late at the tavern.”
The teenaged girl nodded. “She’ll pitch a fit if she knows we been talkin’ to strangers.”
“Well, I’m Sam, and this is Ginnie.” He turned to Reggie and back to Abe. “You know our names, so now we’re not strangers.”
“Not falling for that load of bullshit.” Abe crossed his arms over his chest. “You gonna turn me over to the sheriff?”
Sam shook his head. “No, but you can’t be hunting out of season. Someone else might catch you who won’t be willing to look the other way.”
“Like I said, hunting season is dumb. We gotta eat all year long, not just in the fall.” His gaze swept the faces of the little kids gathered around them, their eyes wide.
A tiny girl tugged on Sam’s jacket. “Are you gonna take Abe to the sheriff?”
“No, ma’am.” Sam squatted next to her and looked her square her bright blue eyes. “I just don’t want him to get into trouble.”
“The only trouble I’ll get into is if you say anything to anyone about me and my family.” Abe met Sam’s gaze, his own intense.
Sam suspected the boy, as the oldest, was in charge nearly twenty-four-seven. He couldn’t show any sign of weakness, or the others would have no one to guide them and keep them safe.
“I won’t do anything to harm you or your family.” He didn’t like it, but he and Reggie had to get back to the truck before the sun dipped below the ridge line. “We’ll be going back the way we came.”
“Do you know how to get back?”
“I’m pretty sure,” Sam said, although the teen had taken them through the woods at a pretty quick pace.
Abe shook his head. He turned to the girl. “Lizzy, you and Josh cut up the deer and put some in a pot to boil. I’ll be back before dark.” He turned back to Sam and Reggie. “Let’s go.”
“You don’t have to lead us back,” Sam said. “You need to stay here.”
“Lizzy can handle things while I get you back to where you came from.” He took off toward the woods and stopped at the edge of the clearing to turn back. “You comin’ or not?”
Sam grinned. “Coming.” He took Reggie’s hand and hurried her toward the teen. Grunt fell in step beside them.
As they walked through the woods, Sam asked, “You know these hills pretty good?”
Abe nodded without slowing his pace. “Lived here all my life.”
Which couldn’t be more than fourteen or fifteen years. Not much, but enough for a young man with a need to feed his family to find his way around the backwoods.
“Do you know of a place along the river where there are cliffs about twenty or thirty feet high?”
Abe glanced over his shoulder, still moving forward. “Yeah. But it’s not on this branch of the river.
“What do you mean?” Sam asked.
“The river splits about a mile or two upstream and comes back together not far from here,” Abe said.
“Which branch are the cliffs on?” Reggie asked.
“The north branch.” Abe slowed and glanced back at Reggie. “Why do you want to know?”
“I heard it was really pretty and a place I should see,” Sam said.
Abe came to a full stop. “Look, Sam or George, or whoever you are. We might be poor, but we’re not stupid.
What business do you have at the cliffs?”
Reggie’s gaze caught Sam’s.
Sam faced the boy. “Abe, some things are best left unsaid for good reason. For your protection, as well as ours. Kind of like not telling the sheriff about your hunting out of season.”
Abe’s eyes narrowed briefly. Then he nodded and continued through the woods until they came to the boulder where Reggie had been hiding. “I got you back here. You’re on your own now.”
Abe turned back the direction they’d come.
“Abe,” Sam called out.
The teen stopped and looked over his shoulder, a frown on his brow.
“You’re a good man, Abe.” Somehow, someway, he had to help Abe and his family. But it would have to be after they found the house with the women. He dug his wallet out of his back pocket and extracted a one-hundred-dollar bill and one of the business cards Hank had made up for him. “Call me, if you and the kids run into any trouble. We have something to take care of, but we’ll be back to check on you. So, maybe don’t shoot before you check to see who it is.”
When Sam held out the money, Abe’s eyes widened, and he shook his head. “No, sir. I can’t take that. We don’t take charity.”
“Abe, you worked for it. You gave us information we needed to know and led us back through the woods so that we wouldn’t get lost.” Sam took Abe’s hand, laid the bill in it, along with the business card, and curled the boy’s fingers around them. “You earned it. And keep the card in case you need anything.”
The teen looked up at Sam. “Thank you, sir.” Then he spun and ran down the hill, disappearing into the forest.
Sam gripped Reggie’s elbow and led her along the trail paralleling the river.
“You think Abe and his family will be okay?” Reggie asked.
“They have to be. At least until we can find that house and free those women.”
“We’re coming back then, aren’t we?” she asked. “I can’t stand the thought of all those babies living the way they do. Their mother must be beside herself.”
“If they even have one,” Sam said through gritted teeth.
Reggie glanced his way, her eyes rounding. “You think he was lying about her working at the tavern? You think those kids are out there all alone?”
