Ben stepped away from the nasty girl, who had one hand on his arm. “I’d be careful what you say, Miss Halverston. One might get the wrong impression that you’re out to spread false rumors about people.”
He nodded at her, then grabbed the box of re-packed supplies and headed out the door. Behind him, Frances called his name, but he ignored her, and headed back to the peddler wagon as he’d promised.
Chapter 7
“What did you tell him? Does he know who we are?”
Max sneered at her, while Uncle Eli paced in front of the wagon. Uncle Eli had decided on a good place to make camp along a meandering creek several miles outside of town before interrogating her.
“I told him nothing.” Clara narrowed her eyes on her cousin. The pounding in her heart increased, but she swallowed back the familiar apprehension whenever confronting him.
“Then what was he doing, sniffing around your skirts?” Max grabbed her arm and yanked her close to him. Clara dug her feet into the ground and twisted away from his grasp.
“He was being helpful,” she said, meeting her cousin’s dark eyes.
Max released her arm and Clara rubbed at the skin where his fingers had dug into her. The dangerous look in his eyes was meant to intimidate her. Many times in the past it had worked, but not today. Something had happened to her today that gave her courage.
The soldier was alive. She’d helped to save him, and that had given her something to be happy about for the first time in a long time. She’d thought about him often in the last few months, wondering and fretting if he’d survived. Her mind had raced with fear, contemplating the pain he must have felt. It had tormented her late into the night for weeks after the incident.
Then the fear had taken hold. Irrational fear that he would come after her for not doing more to save him. Why had she not said anything in the towns they’d passed through? She could have gone to the law and reported the injured man. She was nothing but a weak coward.
Ben Ferguson.
While she’d obviously seen him before, he’d looked nearly dead the first time, and she hadn’t really paid attention to his face. Her sole focus had been on the burns to his legs and the bullet wound. This time, it would have been difficult not to notice him in town. Hadn’t her eyes been drawn to him out of a crowd of people? Now she also had a name to put to his face.
His handsome features and the warmth and tenderness in his eyes clearly turned the heads of many women. There had been genuine care and concern in the way he’d looked at her after she’d collided with him in the mercantile. He hadn’t been angry, nor had he said a harsh word about her.
He’d protected her from Mr. Wilkes, and also from those women who’d sniggered about her behind her back. Not since Mama died had anyone protected her or offered a word of comforting encouragement. She glanced to where Scamp lay under the wagon, watching her intently. She had Scamp, but sometimes she yearned for the kind word of a human voice, telling her all would be well.
Today, for the first time, she’d been told such a thing. On top of that, Ben Ferguson had recognized her outward behavior for what it was, even though she’d tried hard to conceal the rising panic and irrational fear that something horrible was about to happen. How had he known?
“Don’t start getting sassy with me and Pa, Clara.” Max leaned toward her. “We’re all you have. You just remember that. No one wants someone like you, who has fits as if the devil was after you.”
“I don’t have fits,” Clara defended.
She wasn’t going to back down this time. Her mother had told her to have courage. While it was hard to live by those words, and she’d never stood up for herself, her courage was of a different kind.
It took courage to get out of bed most mornings to face her uncle and her cousin. It was exhausting to put a smile on her face each day, rather than give in to the darkness that threatened to consume her every waking minute, and often into the night as well.
Today, she’d found hope in one man. Someone who understood. With a few words, and simply by having lived through his ordeal, he’d given her a new kind of courage.
“Max, go find some firewood so we can fix some grub,” Uncle Eli ordered. “I don’t think that soldier recognized any of us. Besides, it don’t look as if he’s a soldier anymore. Looks like one of his legs didn’t heal quite right.” He scratched at his beard. “Still don’t know how a man could survive something like that. I was sure he was a goner.”
Max laughed. “I can still remedy that, Pa. Shouldn’t be hard to find him and finish the job. Just in case he did recognize us.” His eyes turned on Clara. “Or if she’s lying and she told that soldier about us.”
“She won’t tell him anything,” Eli said, looking smug as he stared at her. “She’s afraid of her own shadow, or what will happen if she does tell.”
The familiar apprehension jabbed at her insides. Max wouldn’t really go after Ben Ferguson, would he? There had been no indication that the former soldier had recognized any of them. The best way for her to protect Ben from her cousin was to make sure Ben didn’t find out about that day.
“Get the fire going, Max.” Clearly, Uncle Eli didn’t think Ben had recognized them, either, and had dismissed his son. Only Max had such crazy notions. She scoffed. Max always said she wasn’t right in the head, when he was clearly the crazy one.
Uncle Eli turned his attention to the mules, unhitching the team and picketing them to graze. Max tossed a scowl her way, then wandered off. Clara inhaled a deep breath. She headed for the wagon but changed direction. The soft gurgling of the creek beckoned. Wandering along the winding banks, she found a spot under a tree and sank into the soft grass.
A gentle breeze rustled through the treetop and birds sang. Crickets chirped in the tall grasses, adding to the serene sound of flowing water. The soothing whispers of nature should have been enough to drive out the unrest that lingered inside, but they failed at their task.
Other than the wind, water, insects, and birds, all was quiet around her. Quiet and peaceful, but Clara’s mind had other ideas. Everything that had happened today had left her exhausted and jumpy at the same time. The voices in her head started screaming louder, that danger was imminent and there was no escape. She glanced at her surroundings, trying to focus on something other than the tormenting thoughts in her head that were quickly taking over.
Clara gritted her teeth and counted to ten, then named off every different color on the rocks and plants, anything to redirect her mind. She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again, willing her thoughts elsewhere. Ben Ferguson had been so kind to her. He’d been the only good thing to happen today, but thinking of him also brought back the memories of making a fool of herself in his company.
She shook her head. Her irrational mind and the negative thoughts swirling around would not win this time. At least right now she had a short reprieve from Uncle Eli and Max. Every time they saw her in a state of panic, they made things worse by taunting her and telling her to snap out of it. She stiffened instantly when Scamp let out a low growl beside her.
Clara scrambled to her feet, but before she had a chance to look around, a hand clamped around her arm and yanked her hard. She let out a startled screech and twisted her body to get out of her attacker’s bruising grip.
“I’ve had about enough of you, struttin’ around camp, thinkin’ you’re something special.” Max pulled her up against him, her back colliding with his chest. She shuddered as his breath tickled her cheek when he spoke to her from behind.
Fear raced through her. Why had she left camp?
“Let go of me, Max,” she managed to produce, gritting her teeth as her heart slammed against her ribs. Her throat threatened to close off as she forced air into her lungs.
“It’s about time someone teaches you a lesson, Clara.” His hold on her tightened. His breath was hot against her face. Clara fought for a breath as fear engulfed her. Max had always been a bully, but until now, he’d never laid a hand on h
er.
She stomped on his foot and twisted to kick at his groin. Max cursed and his hold on her loosened. She pulled free of his grasp, ripping the sleeve of her dress in the process, and ran. Max lunged after her, but Scamp ran in front of him at that moment. Max tripped, cursing loudly.
Clara ran for the safety of the wagon. Uncle Eli might not care much about her, but at least he’d never attacked her. The clicking sound of a revolver behind her made her stop in her tracks. She spun around, her eyes wide. Max had his gun pointed at Scamp, ready to shoot.
“No!” Clara lunged for her dog, wrapping her arms tightly around him and shielding him with her body. She squeezed her eyes shut. A shot rang out. Her breath froze as her body twitched in reaction to the sound. Max cursed a string of obscenities close by, and a horse’s hooves drew near.
Clara continued to hold Scamp in a protective embrace, holding on as tight as her weak arms allowed. The shot hadn’t come from Max’s revolver. Would Uncle Eli shoot at his own son? Her entire body shook, but she didn’t dare move, or open her eyes.
“Shooting a dog is about as cowardly as a man gets.”
“Mind your own business, mister. The damned mutt attacked me.”
Clara’s breath caught in her throat. The familiar voice of Ben Ferguson came from somewhere close by. Tentatively, she opened her eyes and raised her head. Her hair fell into her eyes, obstructing her view, but not before she caught a glimpse of a horse and a man in the saddle, pointing a rifle at Max.
Tears flooded her eyes, and her heart continued its fierce pounding in her chest. Instead of being relieved that Ben had shown up, shame overtook her. This was the second time in the same day that this man had come to her aid when she’d been too weak and feeble-minded to fight her own battles. Why couldn’t she simply be like other people and stand up for herself without shattering into tiny pieces?
Terror gripped her like an icy vice around her heart. The coldness spread throughout her entire body. While she’d fought off the panic all day, keeping it simmering just below the surface, she couldn’t hold it back any longer and it erupted like the geysers she’d seen months ago.
She stumbled to her feet and ran. Ran as fast as her legs could carry her until her lungs burned and she couldn’t run anymore. She tripped over a protruding root from a nearby cottonwood and fell to the ground. Instead of getting up, she crawled beneath the tree’s branches to hide from the world.
She huddled against the trunk, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms tightly around them. Her heart raced faster with each passing second, and her insides turned to ice.
Clara closed her eyes and rocked back and forth while the familiar terror engulfed her. Her addled mind had long overtaken any rational thought, convincing her she was going to die. The fear of dying swooped over her like a dark cloud, and the urge to get up and keep running as far and fast away from her own body gripped her. Pain squeezed her heart as if someone sat on her chest, and the sensation spread throughout her limbs. She fought for air as her throat seemed to close off.
Not even Scamp could offer comfort at the moment. Many times, the faithful pet’s presence was enough to ward off the intense fear that claimed any lucid thoughts she possessed, but not this time.
Clara shivered as tears streamed down her face. Biting into her knuckles to keep from screaming for help, she rocked faster. No one would come to her aid. If she called out, her uncle and cousin would only find her and yell at her to snap out of it. Or worse.
Her body stiffened when something warm and solid wrapped around her. Arms drew her into a protective embrace. Had she died and was finally in Mama’s loving embrace again? It had been so long. She shuddered, then her rigid body relaxed against the comforting touch of another human being. A gentle hand held her head against a broad chest, stroking the length of her hair while holding her tight and shielding her from any harm.
“It’s all right. It’ll pass. You’re going to be all right.”
Soft words murmured against her cheek. Clara breathed freely for the first time since the panic had started. The ice inside her melted, replaced by a feeling of warmth and security.
Awareness of her surroundings slowly returned. Her body stopped shaking, and her breathing became more normal along with the beating of her heart. She ached all over, and the lingering tightness in her chest remained, especially when drawing a breath, but the dreadful feeling of impending doom vanished, and rational thought returned.
She was being held in the strong arms of a man’s embrace. He held her tight, didn’t say a word, and wasn’t a threat. Clara lifted her head and he instantly shifted to give her room to move.
Ben Ferguson, the man who’d protected her in town, had come to her aid once again. He smiled, and his dark, warm eyes greeted her. Clara squirmed to free herself from his arms, even though she’d rather stay exactly where she was.
“Feeling a little better now?”
Clara nodded. How did this man appear at the right moment and know precisely what to do? There was no condemnation, accusation, or belittling in his eyes, only understanding and patience.
Clara scrambled to stand. Mr. Ferguson released her fully. She swayed to gain balance on her feet and ran a trembling hand along her skirt to smooth it out. A bit of torn material dangled from her sleeve. Scamp panted next to her, wagging his tail.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, groping for words.
Ben stood, using his cane to pull himself up. Clara stared at his legs, and a twinge of guilt rushed through her for what had happened to him.
“There’s no need to be sorry for anything. I’m glad I came along when I did.” Ben’s gaze went from her to Scamp, then back to her. “And I think your dog is glad, too.”
A smile spread across his face, followed quickly by a flash of anger in his eyes as they lingered on her torn dress. He looked as if he wanted to ask a question but seemed to wait for her.
“Thank you, for saving Scamp.”
Clara glanced around. Where was Max, or Uncle Eli?
As if Ben had read her mind, he said, “I told your cousin that if he followed you or me, I’d put a bullet in him.” The look on his face had turned hard. “There’s no excuse for a man to do what he tried to do, and I have half-a-mind to bring the sheriff out here.” He reached out and touched her arm. His features softened instantly. “Clara, has your cousin . . . has he hurt you before?”
Clara shook her head. “No. I don’t know what caused him to get so angry.”
Again, she cringed. Why was she protecting Max? While he hadn’t ever tried to physically hurt her, she did know the reason for his anger this time.
It’s to protect yourself. You can’t let Ben know what happened three months ago.
“I don’t think you’re safe with your cousin or your uncle. Do you have other family who can take you in?”
“No one. Uncle Eli is all I have left.” She glanced at the ground. “With my affliction, no one is going to want to take me in. Uncle Eli is the only one willing to put up with me.”
Ben scoffed. “What are you talking about? Your uncle and cousin are using you, Clara, and if they’re telling you that your episodes of panic should keep you from leading a life other than with them, they are lying to you. If you ask me, it’s because of them you’re suffering.”
Clara scrunched her forehead. All her life, she’d been told that she was worthless by her uncle, and no one would want to be burdened with her. Although Mama had always encouraged her, she’d been just as trapped, and had only told her to be brave so she could face each day.
“I know this might seem sudden, and I’m still trying to figure out exactly what to do, but I’d like you to come with me, Clara.”
Clara stared. Her forehead scrunched, and she blinked, then returned her eyes to meet Ben’s expectant look.
“Come with you? Leave Uncle Eli?” Her heart fluttered, but not in the usual way. For the first time, hope sprang to life in her. Hope, and thoughts of freedom from
her uncle and cousin’s taunts. It was too impossible to even contemplate.
“It’s the only way you’re going to find peace, Clara. I think if you’re away from your relatives, you’ll see that your fears and bouts of panic will ease. Stay with them, and it could only get worse.” Ben offered an encouraging smile.
The vision of her mother, dead by her own hand, flooded her mind. The sadness and the panic had become too overwhelming for Mama, to the point where she’d seen no other way out.
“Why are you doing this?”
Ben reached for her hand. He shrugged and then grinned. “Call me crazy, but I feel as if you saved me from a dark place once. I’d like to return the favor.”
Chapter 8
“What in tarnation is going on here?”
Clara wheeled around at her uncle’s angry outburst, but Ben turned slowly. He’d expected the peddler to show up sooner. The man held a shotgun in front of him, pointing it at Ben.
Behind him, Clara’s worthless cousin stood, holding a cloth to his eye and cowering behind his father. Dried blood caked his nose and lip. Ben smirked. After Clara had run away, he’d sent his fist into Max’s face for what he’d tried to do. The coward deserved more than a black eye and bloody nose.
Ben stepped forward, leaning on his cane. His free hand rested near the holster at his hip. The rifle pointed at him wasn’t a concern. Eli Youngblood was too smart to shoot him. His son, on the other hand, wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger, but Ben had taken his revolver away after he’d given Max that black eye.
Anger coursed through him again. If he hadn’t left town so soon, he wouldn’t have come across the peddler’s camp, or seen Clara by the creek, struggling to get away from her cousin.
“I could ask you the same thing, Mr. Youngblood.” Ben glanced over his shoulder at Clara. “I think you’ve abused your niece enough. With her permission, I’d like to take her with me.”
Uncle Eli laughed. “Take her with you? Why would you want her?”
In His Thoughts Page 6
