Winter Promise

by Martha Rogers

  Elliot spent a sleepless night wrestling with his memories and images of Abigail. He cared for her, and now her disappearance filled him dread. What if she was hurt, and he couldn’t save her? What if she was already dead?

  He skipped breakfast and headed for the sheriff’s office in the courthouse where Daniel watched over the town. Aunt Maggie had called after him, but he’d ignored her and saddled his horse.

  Daniel sat at the sheriff’s desk and jerked his head up when Elliot burst through the door. “Have you heard anything yet?”

  “No, most likely won’t until they come back either with the thieves or alone.” His voice choked on the last words.

  Elliot grimaced and gripped the brim of his hat with his hands. Abigail was Daniel’s sister. Of course he would be worried and concerned. “I’m sorry, Daniel. I know if anything had happened, you’d have let us know. I’m so worried about Abigail, but the good news is that Weygandt and Fuller will be OK.”

  “If we could only say that about Abigail. She’s a fighter, but I don’t want to even think about what they might do to her.” He slapped his palms on the desk and stood. “I should be out there with them hunting her and not in this office.”

  Elliot understood that because he’d thought the same thing last night, but his uncle had tried to convince him that a doctor in town was more important. “I want to go too. What if she’s hurt and needs a doctor? No telling how far away they are or what they’ll need when they find her.”

  Daniel’s breath came out in whoosh as he sat down. “So glad you said when and not if. Don’t think I could stand it if you’d said if like several others have.”

  Elliot said nothing more to keep from revealing his growing concern for Abigail. His heart had already let her in, and now all he could do was wait for someone to bring her home.

  He turned toward the door to get away from Daniel’s now probing eyes. “Let us know when you hear anything. I’m heading back to the infirmary to give Doc a hand. He stayed the night with our patients. We’ll most likely let them go home today.” He strode through the door and swung up onto his horse.

  Up and down Main Street the citizens of Porterfield went about their daily business except at the bank. Those doors remained closed and locked. Someone was on their way from the government to check into how much damage had been done. Several men and women stood at the bank doors reading the notice Daniel had posted.

  After a few murmurs and comments, they shook their heads and went on with their errands. Elliot trotted on past them and headed for the infirmary to relieve Doc, although his uncle most likely wouldn’t leave.

  When he entered, Kate met him. “Has Daniel heard anything at all?”

  He recognized the fear and concern in her eyes. He’d seen it before in family members of patients he’d treated, and it always sent tremors of guilt when he had to deliver bad news. He shook his head. “No, but he’ll let us know as soon as he knows anything. Cory and the sheriff will find her. After all, Hawkeye is the best tracker in these parts.”

  Kate sniffed and blinked her eyes. “I know. I’ve heard Cory talk about him enough. But Abigail is not as strong or tall as most women, and from what I’ve heard, those men are big and mean.”

  That he had seen from the damage done to the president and teller in the bank. His uncle came out of Mr. Fuller’s room. Before the door closed, Elliot spotted Aunt Mae in the room. A brief smile crossed his mouth. At least they wouldn’t have to worry about Mr. Fuller and Mr. Weygandt getting good care. Mrs. Weygandt had spent the night in her husband’s room.

  Doc stepped to Kate’s side and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “These two are good enough to go home today, so now we can concentrate on what to do for Abigail.”

  What that could be Elliot had no idea, but he’d be willing to do anything to see her home safe and secure. Doc reached for his hand. and Elliot let his uncle grasp it. Then Doc bowed his head and began praying. Elliot stiffened, but Kate slipped her hand into his, and for some reason he began to relax as his uncle’s words filled the room.

  “Dear God and Father in heaven, hear our plea for Abigail. Keep her safe in Your arms. Protect her under Your wings of mercy. Watch over the men trying to find her, and lead them in the right direction to find her soon. Amen.”

  Elliot glanced up to see Kate’s eyes filled with tears. Prayer hadn’t helped him when he’d needed it before, so why should it help now? If it gave any solace to Doc or Kate, then he’d keep quiet and let them pray as they wanted. Still, he’d put more money on the tracking skills of Hawkeye right now than he would any of their prayers.

  Abigail’s kidnapping made a mockery of the Thanksgiving holiday coming next week. Who would want to give thanks as long as she was missing?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  THE ONE THE others called McGraw yanked Abigail down from his horse and landed her with a thud on the hard-packed dirt. Pain shot through the ankle she had injured weeks earlier, and she clenched her teeth to keep from crying out. He shoved her against a tree and pushed her down. The skinny one leered at her, and she squeezed her eyes shut.

  His voice filled with all the evil she could imagine. “C’mon, McGraw, ain’t nobody out here but us. We can use her to keep warm.”

  She heard flesh hit bone, and every muscle in her body tensed as tight as her bindings. “No, I said we’re going to use her to get what we want. If that posse catches up to us, she’s our guarantee they’ll be careful. Once we cross the river and get into Louisiana, we let her go. Until then she’s our ace up the sleeve. You lay a hand on her, and it’s the last thing you’ll ever touch.”

  Abigail held back a sob. They’d let her go across the river. For the first time, hope that she’d get out of this alive and unhurt built in her heart. God was taking care of her.

  Something fell over her head. “Here, you might need a blanket to keep warm tonight.”

  Abigail reached up and pulled it off and glared at him. After much effort, she finally managed to arrange the blanket over her body. She curled up with her knees tucked to her stomach and fell asleep.

  The next morning she awakened just as the sky became gray with the light of dawn. Today had to be Sunday, but with the dense cloud cover, she had no way of knowing the time.

  Three men still had not stirred, and the fourth stood watch with only the lower part of his face visible under his hat’s brim. Abigail tried to move around a bit, but her bound hands and feet made that difficult. Snores emanated from the three still hunkered under blankets.

  She kicked her feet forward, wishing her target could be the head of one of the men. The blanket tangled about her feet with the effort, and she tried to sit up. Her hands, now in front of her, were bound with her wrists crossed one over the other, which made doing anything, even eating, more difficult. Finally she made it to a sitting position and rearranged her skirt the best she could.

  “Feel better now?” The sentry leered at her with eyes so evil they made her skin crawl.

  She said nothing but glared back at him and pulled the blanket up to her chin to ward off some of the chill and to shield her body from the smoldering glance of the gunman. He wore a long dark duster like she’d seen on many of the cowboys from the ranches. A black leather gun belt with silver studs and a hefty-looking handgun circled his body just below the waist. She’d seen that last night when he’d removed the long coat. This morning he sat with a rifle cradled in his arms, ready to shoot whatever or whoever got in his way.

  None of the men had shaved recently, which made their faces even more sinister, even in sleep. McGraw, apparently the leader, cursed the other men if they didn’t do as he said. She didn’t understand exactly why he protected her against the others, but she wouldn’t question it and would accept it as grace from God.

  McGraw yawned, stretched, and hopped up in a second. He turned his gaze to Abigail and towered over her. Dressed in all black from his boots to his hat, his height and the width of his shoulders gave him the appearan
ce of a giant. It was no wonder he’d been able to fling her up on his saddle like she’d been a rag doll. Not to be intimidated, she sat up straight and lifted her head.

  “Sorry we don’t have room service, Missy, but we don’t take time for luxuries.” His lips curled to a snarl, and he kicked the rear ends of the two still sleeping. “Time to get movin’ if we’re to stay ahead of that posse. Two minutes to get your gear and get on your horses.”

  In that time the four men erased all signs of their camp. Abigail pulled back from McGraw’s grasp. “I must relieve myself before we go.”

  McGraw snarled then shoved her toward the trees. He nodded to the one who had watched her earlier. “Take her, and make sure she hurries.”

  The man picked her up at the waist then deposited her behind a tree. He untied her hands, but kept one anchored to a tree limb then loosened the bindings at her ankles. With one hand she managed her skirts, her cheeks aflame with humiliation and anger. She ripped off another piece of cloth from her damaged skirt and concealed it in her hand.

  When she had finished and stood up, she turned away to straighten her petticoats and skirt. With the scrap now secure in her waistband, she held out her hand to be bound to the other again. At the edge of the clearing, she grabbed the scrap then dropped it to the ground, praying the men wouldn’t notice.

  McGraw slung her up onto the saddle, and she landed with a thump that jarred her already sore bones and rattled her teeth. She sat with her feet, once again securely bound, hanging on one side. She clutched the saddle horn to keep from falling while McGraw mounted to sit behind her. His arms encircled her again as she flinched and tried to move away. Once again he bent his head so that his warm breath feathered her neck. She cringed at his touch, but he only laughed and jerked the reins.

  The Lord was her light and salvation, and she would not be afraid. Cory and the sheriff would be here soon, and then it would all be over. She clung to that hope as the horses began moving through the trees.

  Elliot waited until his aunt and uncle had left for church before he dressed and followed after them. A longing for fellowship with others gathered to worship God had worked its way into his heart. Long ago church had brought peace and solace, and he sorely needed both now. God had to be there somewhere.

  He arrived after the services had begun and slipped into a seat in the back row near the door. Reverend Winston led the congregation in prayer. Elliot listened to the words. Would God listen and bring Abigail home?

  The prayer ended, and sniffles and nose blowing filled the air as Reverend Winston began his message. He talked about God being in control and God protecting Abigail through this ordeal. When he mentioned a scripture, Elliot grabbed a Bible from the rack on the pew and turned to Philippians 4. “Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God.”

  Reverend Winston explained that Paul meant we are not to worry about what may or may not happen but to trust God fully to take care of Abigail. “May we offer up our prayers for her and be thankful not for the situation, but that in the midst of it we can thank God for being there with her.”

  Elliot pondered those words. If God was protecting Abigail, why hadn’t He been there to protect Angela? Did God pick and choose whom He saved and didn’t save? Once again the doubts and fears from the past few years threatened his peace of mind.

  When the service ended, members crowded around Reverend Winston, but Elliot dashed out the door before anyone could speak to him. He made it only as far as the road before Sophia ran up to him.

  “Elliot, you did come this morning. I’m so glad you did. I remember how happy you were going to church with Angela and how much you both loved the Lord.” She grasped at his arm. “Elliot, only God can bring the peace we need after a tragedy. I learned that after Mama and Papa died and all my friends abandoned me. God is the only one to stay true and never leave us.”

  The same old argument, but today it didn’t irritate him quite as much. “Sophia, don’t you understand that I knew what needed to be done for Angela, but I did it too late?”

  “Ask God to help you understand. Ask Him for the wisdom to accept what happened and handle the grief that still fills you.”

  “I don’t think I’ll ever understand why, but I have to deal with it my own way. If you’ll excuse me, I have to go now.” He strode away, and Sophia didn’t attempt to stop him. He turned to look back at her. She stared at him for another second or two then spun around and headed back to the church.

  Elliot slowed his walk home. The anger he’d built up against God for these past few years didn’t seem to burn with as much fire today. Reverend Winston’s prayer and his sermon had touched a long buried yearning he’d once had for God’s Word. The decision now before him was whether to let it grow or to once again shove it deep to a place where it would die.

  Elliot trudged up the steps to the house. Worry for Abigail filled his mind, but once again he had no control over what was happening. How could he have let her into his heart?

  He hung his coat on the hall tree then slumped on the sofa in the parlor. His thoughts again turned to Abigail. Her warm smile, vivacious spirit, and optimistic attitude had succeeded in doing what no others since Angela had accomplished. How could he have let it happen? He wanted to shake his fist at God, a God so cruel that He brought another woman into Elliot’s life then snatched her away again as soon as he began to care about her. The punishment for his inadequacy in Cleveland would never end.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CORY AND HAWKEYE rode at the front of the posse with the tracker examining every bit of the trail. The sheriff had pulled them out of their camp before daylight in order to shorten the distance between them and the outlaws. A short time ago they’d passed the last place the gang had stopped. Even though they’d tried to erase all evidence, Hawkeye’s skills spotted the scrap of cloth then pointed out two dainty prints left behind.

  Cory’s heart filled with more admiration for Abigail. She’d left another clue for them to know they were on the right track. Smart thinking.

  Marshal Slade was ready to take them in for robbing the bank as well as shooting the two bankers. And if anything happened to Abigail, Cory himself would have a hard time keeping his hand off his gun.

  The feisty little librarian had worked her way into his heart, and that was something he’d fought for too many years to count. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, she was one young woman who could make him willing to give up his single life. The men most likely wouldn’t kill her, but the alternatives sent tremors of fury through Cory. If any one of those men had laid a hand on Abigail, he just might kill him on the spot. He let his anger boil for a time then remembered who he was. He swallowed hard and prayed.

  Dear Jesus, help me to hold my temper and let Rutherford and Slade do their jobs. Protect Abigail. Keep her safe.

  Talking with the Lord calmed his spirit but not his determination. He held his rifle loosely in his arms, ready to fire it at a moment’s notice. They stopped, but Rutherford sent Hawkeye on ahead. The half-breed Caddo moved in silence and disappeared into the dense growth.

  Rutherford pulled up beside Cory. “We’re getting near the river, and I feel we’re getting closer to them. Hawkeye will find them and let us know where to go next.”

  “If they just cross the river and come out even with where they went in, it’ll be easy to follow, but what if they decide to go upriver or downriver then make it to the other side? Won’t that keep us from finding them as quick?”

  Rutherford scratched the stubble on his chin. “Might and might not. Depends on what Hawkeye finds. Most likely they’ll be in a hurry, and that haste will leave clues for him to find.”

  He waved his hand to call the other men to join him. When the others reined in, Frank Cahoon said, “We better catch these men today. I don’t like the idea of Miss Abigail being in their clutches one more night.”

  “Me neither, but we
have to be careful.” Rutherford nodded to Marshal Slade. “Got any ideas on where to go from here?”

  Slade leaned on his saddle horn and gazed at each man. “I can see this gal means a lot to each of you, which means you have to control your feelings for her and concentrate on getting the men. Now, there’s six of us and four of them, and we’ve determined they’re part of the McGraw gang. With Hawkeye up front leading the way, I figure we can surround them and take them with minimum gunfire. If they’re this side of the river, we can sneak up on them. If they’ve already crossed over, we don’t want to attract their attention with our movements. We’ll plan our next move when Hawkeye returns.”

  If McGraw hadn’t stopped for food, that meant they’d been without for nearly two days. Cory grimaced at the thought of Abigail with no food for that time. Sheriff Rutherford had gone into Carthage and picked up supplies for the posse, which gave them an edge over McGraw’s men.

  After what seemed an eternity, but in reality was only half an hour, Hawkeye returned. “Found ‘em at the river getting ready to cross. The girl’s bound hand and foot but appears to be OK. I don’t think they’ll try to go north or south on the river, so they’ll probably cut straight across. It’s not as shallow here, and the current’s rather swift for this time of year, but they should make it across OK.”

  Slade dug his heels into his horse’s flank. “No sense waiting any longer. Let’s go.”

  Cory followed, as did the others, with Hawkeye leading the way. The river curved like a slithering snake in this area. When they reached the woods overhanging the river, they were able to creep close because of the density of the trees. They dismounted and followed Hawkeye’s lead. Cory wanted to shout when he spotted the four men still on this side.

  Slade raised his hand to stop them. “Here’s the plan. We spread out so that Hawkeye and you, Cory, go down to those trees and rocks and get close as you can. Each of us will take one man from this angle. I’ll aim at McGraw. Be mindful of the girl. I want each of you to give a signal when you’re ready. Cory, once you’re close, be ready to snatch her soon as the outlaws are down. Don’t shoot to kill, but wound them enough they can’t fight back. I want these men alive to take back to Porterfield.”