by Bonnie Leon
“I don’t want you to go in alone. I want to help.”
Perry glanced at the whip in her hands. “With that? Ye can’t be serious.” He grinned.
“It’s better than nothing.” She set a determined look on Perry. “I’m going with you.”
“All right, then. But stay behind me.” Perry stepped onto the small porch, and a board creaked beneath his feet. He stopped and listened. There was no sound from inside. He pressed his ear against the door and then took hold of the handle and quietly lifted it. When there still was no response from within, he pushed open the door. He held the lantern aloft and illuminated the room.
Hannah held her breath. Her body quaked with tension.
Without warning, something slammed down on Perry’s arm from behind the door, knocking his musket out of his hands. The weapon, an iron poker, came down again, this time hitting the lantern and sending it to the floor. Oil spilled onto the boards and caught fire.
A man emerged and swung the rod again, slamming it into Perry’s face.
A sickening crack resounded and Perry fell. He lay facedown, arms limp at his sides. A crimson pool puddled on the floor. Perry didn’t move.
The man who hit Perry grabbed the cloth from the table and threw it over the small fire, stomping it out with his feet.
Hannah went to Perry, but before she could tend to him, the intruder grabbed her, pulling her against him and entrapping her in powerful arms. She screamed and tried to break free.
“Shut up!” He clamped a hand over her mouth.
Still screaming through the filthy palm, Hannah tried to wrench free. The man’s hold only tightened.
“I said, shut up!” He smacked her across the side of the head.
Light exploded within Hannah’s skull. Pain radiated into her neck and shoulder. The room spun and she thought she might faint. She stopped struggling.
The man’s hold remained tight. “I’ll let ye free if ye promise not to run off.”
Hannah managed to nod.
“Ye sit right ’ere and don’t move.” He pushed her into a chair and then let her loose.
“Stay put.” Keeping an eye on Hannah, he moved to the hearth, took a partially burned stick from the glowing embers, and lit the lantern on the hearth. He carried it to the table and set it down.
It illuminated the room enough that Hannah could better see Perry. He remained motionless. She stared at him, trying to see if he was breathing. She couldn’t tell. What if he was dead? She balled her hands into fists, hoping to control their trembling. Jackson barked ferociously from inside the barn. He knew there was trouble.
The lamplight brightened and Hannah was able to get a good look at her assailant. He was young, unshaven, and his long hair hadn’t seen a washing in many weeks. His clothes were ragged and filthy. Most likely an escaped prisoner.
He pointed the musket directly at her, nodded toward Perry, and said, “Tie him.”
“But he’s hurt. He needs help.”
“Tie him.” The man’s voice sounded raspy.
Hannah took a piece of rope hanging from a hook on the back wall and moved toward Perry. He was so still. Lord, pleasedon’t let him die. She knelt beside him and laid a hand on his back. It rose beneath her palm. He was still alive!
“Tie his hands behind him.”
“He needs a surgeon.”
“Do it. Now!”
I’m sorry, Perry. Hannah reached across his body and lifted one arm, then the other, and as gently as she could, secured his wrists with the rope. She left the knot loose.
The intruder poked her with the toe of his boot. “Ye think me an idiot?”
Unable to keep from trembling, she glanced up at him.
“Tighten it.”
Hannah took in a quaking breath. “He’s injured and unconscious. He’ll cause you no harm.”
The man grabbed a handful of Hannah’s hair and wrenched her to her feet. Holding her face close to his, he growled, “Ye talk back to me and ye’ll end up like yer man, ’ere.”
His breath smelled like rotting fish, and Hannah felt bile rise in her throat. She swallowed hard. Her scalp burned. “All right. I’ll do it.”
He let her go and Hannah forced herself not to rub her throbbing scalp. She retied Perry’s hands, then stood and faced the convict. “What do you want? I’ve nothing of value, but take what you like.”
He glanced at the empty hearth. “I’m hungry. What ’ave ye got?”
Hannah was glad she’d not cooked anything. This man deserved nothing hot in his belly. “I’ve some bread and cheese. And milk.”
“Get it, then.”
Hannah sliced pieces of bread, set them on a plate, and then added cheese. The man stared at the food, his eyes lit with hunger. He was thin, nearly to the point of starvation. She set the plate on the table and the intruder sat down, keeping the musket in one hand. Hannah filled a mug with milk and placed it in front of him. He stuffed bread and cheese into his mouth and chewed, keeping an eye on Hannah. His mouth full, he gulped down milk.
Hannah picked up the last of the bread and wrapped it in a towel.
“Don’t do that. I’ll want all of it. The cheese too.”
Placing the food on the table, she backed away. Her eyes went to Perry. Was he still alive? For a moment, she saw herself telling Gwen and Lydia about his death. No! None of thosethoughts, she told herself.
The man continued to stuff himself and finished off the milk. “Ye got something to drink besides this? I could do with a pint.”
“No. We’ve nothing except milk and water.”
“I’ll take water, then.”
Hannah quickly filled a mug from a pitcher and gave it to him. Jackson continued his barking.
“Sit there.” He nodded at a chair near the hearth. When Hannah was seated, he studied Perry for a moment and then returned to eating. Finally, his appetite satiated, he slumped back in his chair and belched. “Never did get enough to eat at the gaol.”
Hannah wished he would leave. What more could he want? She gazed at Perry. He looked ashen. How long could he live without help? She stood and took a step toward him.
“Sit!”
“Please. My friend needs a doctor. He’ll die—”
“Sit now!” His voice boomed and Hannah had no option but to obey. Glaring at her, the intruder stood and shoved the remaining food into his shirt and pants pockets. His gaze moved about the room, stopping when he saw the pistol on the mantel. He strode across the room, grabbed it, and shoved it into his belt. “Ye have powder?”
“Yes. There.” Hannah pointed at a shelf in the kitchen.
“Get it.”
Hannah moved swiftly. The sooner he left, the sooner she could get help for Perry. She handed him the pouch of black powder.
He grabbed it and looped the strap of the bag through his belt. “What else ye ’ave to eat?”
“I’ve more bread and we’ve some apples.”
She heard something outside and glanced at the door. The escapee heard it too and moved to the window. Careful not to expose himself to anyone who might be outside, he peered out. “Ye expecting anyone?”
“No. No one.” She stared at the door. Lord, please don’t letJohn step into this.
A sound like creaking boards came again. The convict turned and grinned at her. “Nothing but the horse pulling against the buggy.” He returned to the table. “Get a bag. And that bread.”
Hannah took the other loaf of bread out of the cupboard and held it against her abdomen. “The bags are in the barn.”
“All right, then. We’ll go get them and those apples.” He moved toward the door. “Bring the lantern.”
Hannah did as she was told.
He motioned her toward the door and then followed her out. Hannah’s mind went through escape scenarios. Perhaps she could hide in the field. He’d have a time finding her. She could make her way to the Connors’. They’d help her.
But even as she considered fleeing, she knew he’d cat
ch her. And what about poor Perry? Hannah fought a tide of tears.
When she stepped inside the barn, her thoughts turned to defense. If she could find a weapon, maybe she could catch him unawares. She glanced at a pitchfork leaning against the wall.
“Try it. See where it gets ye.” The man’s lips lifted in an ugly grin. “Using a pitchfork against a musket—how do ye think ye’ll do, eh?” He laughed.
Hannah didn’t respond. She lifted a cloth bag out of a wooden box.
“You have a fruit cellar?”
“No. We’ve only just built this place. The apples are in a bin . . . here.” She moved toward the north wall.
The intruder’s eyes shot about the barn. Jackson leaped against the stable gate, growling and yapping. “Shut up! Or I’ll shut ye up!”
“Jackson, hush,” Hannah ordered. The dog quieted.
“What else ye ’ave?”
“We’ve carrots and potatoes.”
“I’ll have some of them too.” He nodded toward the river. “What’s in the springhouse?”
Hannah set apples in the bag. “Milk, butter, and cheese.”
“All right. Hurry up.”
Hannah added carrots and potatoes to the sack and tried to hand it to him.
“You hold it. Head for the springhouse.”
The lantern light cut through the darkness as Hannah led the way down the drive. The man followed. She wondered what he’d do when he had what he wanted. Lord, please make himleave. Don’t let him hurt me or poor Perry any further.
Once inside the springhouse, the escapee wanted only cheese. He ordered her to add some to his stash. Hannah placed three balls in the bag.
“All right. Back to the house.”
“What more can you want? I’ve nothing more to give you. Please go. Leave me to care for my friend.”
The man grabbed Hannah’s wrist and twisted her arm back. “Maybe I’m not leaving, eh? Maybe I’ll take ye with me.”
Hannah’s throat constricted, threatening to cut off her air. God, no. Save me. Save Perry. Although feeling panic, Hannah somehow found calm and countered with, “If you take me, I’ll only slow you down. Plus you’d attract attention to yourself. And my husband will hunt you down.”
A shrewd look passed over the man’s face. “If that man on the floor back there isn’t yer husband, then where is yer husband, eh?” He smiled.
“He’s on his way home this minute. He’ll be here soon. I implore you, let me be. It will go hard on you if you’re found out.”
A look of cunning crossed the man’s face. “He’s not coming, is he? As far as I know, he may not even exist.” He smiled. “All I need is one night. Just one.” His tone sounded almost tender. He pulled her close and pressed his face against her hair, breathing deeply. “Ye smell of soap and lavender.” Abruptly he shoved her away from him. “Back to the house.”
Flashes of memory taunted Hannah as she moved on. Pictures of Judge Walker shouted at her from the past. What if this man raped her too? Lord, I couldn’t bear it.
When Hannah stepped into the house, a wave of relief swept through her. Perry was sitting up. His hands were still tied behind his back, and blood dribbled from a cut beneath one eye and the bridge of his nose. She hurried to him. “Thank goodness. You’re all right.”
“So, ye’ve come to, eh?” The man jeered. “Seems I put ye to sleep right well, though.” He laughed. “Not so bright of ye to poke yer head in like that.”
Perry peered at him through blackened eyes. “Ye’ve managed to lay me flat and ye’ve got what ye came for.” His eyes settled on the bag. “Nothing more for ye here.”
The intruder looked at Hannah. “I want ye to put some of that flowery soap of yers in the bag.”
Hannah stared at him. It seemed an odd request.
“Get it.”
It mattered little why he wanted it, if only he took it and left. She grabbed some of the precious soap, tied it in paper, and added it to the other items. He watched her closely.
Without warning, Perry leapt from the floor and grabbed the musket. The two men wrestled over the weapon, knowing that the one who possessed the musket held sway over the other. There was nothing Hannah could do but watch. Suddenly, a loud blast reverberated through the house and Perry fell backward against the wall. Blood quickly soaked his shirt.
“My Lord!” Hannah screamed. “You’ve killed him!” She hurried to her friend. Pressing a hand against his wound, she glared at the intruder. “You’ll hang for this!”
Wearing a smirk, he said, “I’ll not hang, for this or anything else.” He grabbed the bag of goods and headed for the door. Flinging it wide, he stepped outside and disappeared into the darkness. Hannah heard the galloping steps of her mare as the prisoner escaped.
She turned her attention to Perry. “Are you all right? Are you with me?”
Perry managed to nod.
Hannah ripped open his shirt. A tattered wound marked his side. Oh Lord, what am I to do?
She grabbed a cloth from a kitchen shelf and pressed it against the injury. “Push your arm down against this. It will slow the bleeding.” Hannah knew she needed to get Perry to a physician. “Can you walk?”
He opened one eye and then the other. “I’ll try,” he gasped. “You need the surgeon.” Hannah put her shoulder under his arm and pushed while he struggled to find his feet. “Lean on me. I’ll take you to Dr. Gelson.”
With Perry draped over her, Hannah made her way to the buggy and then helped him struggle onto the seat. He sat hunched over and fighting for breath.
“Thank the Lord he didn’t take the buggy,” Hannah said, climbing in beside Perry.
“Too easy to . . . find him . . . if . . . he’s in the . . . buggy.”
Hannah rested a hand on Perry’s shoulder. “Lean on me.”
With a nod, he rested against Hannah. She released the brake, grabbed the tracings, and turned the horse toward the road. With a lash of the reins, the animal moved at a fast trot. Hannah was thankful for a risen moon, for it made it easier to see. She glanced at Perry. “How did you free yourself?”
“Ye don’t know how to tie a decent knot.” He gasped as pain cut through him.
“I’m terrible at it, but I did try to leave it as loose as I could. I was hoping you’d get free.”
When Hannah reached David Gelson’s office, she scrambled down from the buggy and ran to his door. Pounding on it, she cried, “Doctor! Doctor Gelson! We need help!”
A moment later David appeared, looking disheveled, but alert. “Hannah? What’s happened?”
“It’s Perry. He’s been shot.”
Carrying a lantern, David hurried to the buggy and gave Perry a quick look.
“Is he going to be all right?”
“I can’t tell for sure, at least not until I examine him further.” He handed the lantern to Hannah and then hefted Perry out of the buggy. Supporting him, he slowly made his way into the office. Once inside, he carefully laid Perry on an examining table and checked his injuries. “Looks like he took a pretty bad beating.”
“He did.”
“What happened?” He probed the wound and Perry groaned.
“An escaped convict was at my house. He attacked us.”
“Where’s John?”
The reality of John’s absence swept over Hannah, and she suddenly felt utterly alone. “He’s in Sydney Town,” she said as casually as she could.
Dr. Gelson nodded. “The ball’s lodged somewhere in his side. I’ll have to remove it.” He looked at Hannah. “I could use assistance.”
“I can do it.”
“Good.” David turned to Perry. “I’ll have to go in after the slug. And it’s going to hurt.”
“Do what ye have to.” He met the doctor’s eyes bravely. “This isn’t much. Grew up on the streets of London and seen a lot worse.”
“All right, then.” David measured powder into a glass of water, stirred the mixture, and then lifted Perry and had him drink it. “This will
help.”
Perry grimaced. “Tastes vile.”
David lowered him back to the table. “That it does.” He walked to a cabinet, took out surgical instruments, and set them on a stand beside the table. He tied on an apron and gave one to Hannah. “You’ll need this.”
Hannah held up the apron, fear taking hold. She’d never helped with anything this bad, but Perry needed her. She put it on.
“No matter how I holler, pay me no mind,” Perry said, his speech slurred.
“I promise,” David said with a teasing lilt to his voice. He swabbed the area to be worked on.
Perry grabbed the doctor’s arm. “Thank ye,” he rasped.
“You’re welcome.” David rolled Perry onto his side. “But you might feel differently in a few moments.”
11
The driver pulled the team to a stop in front of Hannah’s home, then climbed down and opened the carriage door. Mr. Atherton leaned forward on his seat. “Hannah, I wish you’d reconsider and stay at our place until John returns.”
“I’m fine, truly,” she lied. After what had happened, all Hannah wanted was to stay with the Athertons. But she couldn’t bear the thought of John returning and her not being here.
Mr. Atherton stepped from the carriage and turned to assist her. Taking his hand, she said, “He’ll most likely be back this afternoon.” She managed a smile. “Please don’t worry about me.”
Jackson’s yapping came from inside the barn. “Oh dear! Poor Jackson. I forgot he was locked up.”
“I’ll see to him.”
“Thank you.”
“Well, I’ll have a look about while I’m here.” He raised one eyebrow. “That is, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course not. Thank you.” Hannah moved up the walk toward the house. Memories of the previous evening’s events singed her thoughts, taking her breath from her.
“I’ll go in first.” Mr. Atherton moved past Hannah and onto the porch. He opened the door and stepped inside just as Perry had done.
Hannah felt a flash of alarm and almost called out to him. She stopped and waited, keeping her hands clasped tightly and pressed against her abdomen.
