Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
“I don’t hear nothing. Do you?”
Paddy’s strained whisper came through the damp darkness. Sheila stared up at the paper-thin line of pale light between the floorboards.
She squeezed his hand. “The shooting has stopped.”
“Think it’s over? Think Mr. Marlowe done them all?”
She certainly hoped so.
Ever since they’d climbed down here, two claws had been gripping Sheila’s insides. One clutched her stomach; the other, her heart.
What if he were injured? What if Caleb lay bleeding out there? Dying?
She forced herself to breathe.
He was one man against so many. What if he were dead?
Anger and grief struggled for dominance inside her. She wanted to move, to push the floorboard aside and go to him. To help him.
He’d told them to stay where they were. For Paddy’s sake, they’d stay here until help from Elkhorn arrived.
Frustration washed through her. What if these wasted minutes of waiting mattered? One of these gunmen could be pointing a pistol at Caleb’s head right now, ready to shoot him.
Sheila had to do something. She reached a hand up to the board above them and stopped.
“Hear it?” Paddy whispered excitedly. “He’s in the cabin. He’s coming for us.”
She heard the footsteps too. Whoever it was, they were inside the cabin. The heavy tread of boot heels crossed the floor. He was almost directly over them.
A sick feeling curdled in her stomach. Sheila placed her fingers over the boy’s lips.
Caleb knew where they were. If he’d already succeeded in stopping this devil Elijah Starr and the other demons in his employ, he’d call out to them. He would pull up the floorboard and let them out.
The thread of light filtered over Paddy’s hand as he tried to push their way out. She grabbed it in hers, stopping him.
The footsteps moved slowly across the cabin.
Whoever it was, he was searching for them.
Though the area inside the building was fairly large, the room was sparsely furnished and the ceiling was open to the rafters.
Once he determined that they hadn’t gone out the small window, there was only one place for them to go.
Something heavy tapped on the floor near where they were hidden. Sheila tried to picture what it was. A tap came again, closer. The sound had the metallic feel to it, like the muzzle of a pistol.
The knife Caleb had tossed to her earlier, the one she used to cut the ropes that bound them, lay on her lap. Sheila picked it up and wrapped her fingers tightly around the handle. She had never wanted to hurt anyone. But she would do whatever was necessary to protect Paddy.
If the board was pulled up and it wasn’t Caleb, she would fight. She waited, tense and ready.
Another tap. Even closer. Sheila held her breath.
There was a long pause. The sound of the boots moved away. A few more taps. She tried to imagine where he was. By the stove, maybe. More taps. Where the table had been, perhaps.
Silence.
Paddy leaned closer and started to murmur something, but Sheila sent a warning look at him. He sat back, and she felt his cool hand on her forearm.
The pale stream of light between the boards ran across her arm and his hand. As she looked at it, a break appeared in the line.
Suddenly, the wooden plank lifted. The first thing she saw was the devil’s eye-patch.
Sheila pushed upward, thrusting with the knife at the same time.
The point never reached its target. Holding the floorboard in one hand, he swept his other across, striking her wrist sharply and knocking the knife back down into the hole.
Then, with shocking speed, he caught her wrist and twisted the knife away. Before she could recover, he seized a handful of her hair and hauled her from the hiding place.
Sheila fought him every inch of the way, kicking and twisting, but he was too strong.
A moment later, he slammed the floorboard back into place, shutting Paddy below.