Chapter 35
Morning Fawn moved in a fog. None of this was real, couldn’t be. Lawrence, the gunman-turned-footman, banged on the quarters at the slave compound. Three crude brick buildings connected by a high wooden fence stood in back of the small house.
A whiskered man with trousers under his nightshirt finally answered the door. As agreed, Morning Fawn accompanied Nick into the man’s office, with Lawrence right behind her ready to grab her at the first hint of an escape attempt.
Her stomach knotted as Nick argued back and forth with the trader, proclaiming that he was eloping with Lebeau’s niece and that Lebeau would be more than happy to sell Lucy to him for any price in gratitude for securing a decent marriage for his wayward niece.
Finally, the man swiped his forearm across his nose and hitched his trousers. The deal was struck. A thousand dollars, a bargain, and an extra commission for the trader for the rush. Nick scrawled his signature across the bill of sale, and the man woke his wife to fetch Lucy.
No, don’t. Stop. I can’t go through with this. Morning Fawn swallowed back her protests and pressed her lips shut.
Head lowered, Lucy trudged in through a back door, wearing a faded plaid dress and a worn cloak. Her hair was pulled back in an untidy chignon at the base of her neck. Shackles clanked around her feet.
The trader’s wife followed, her rollered hair wrapped in a neckerchief. “Act lively, girl. Here’s your new owners.”
Lucy looked up and startled. Her glance flitted between Nick and Morning Fawn, her mouth agape.
Nick laid his arm around Morning Fawn’s shoulders. “We’re eloping. You’re my wedding present to Miss Logan.”
Morning Fawn flinched.
Lucy’s eyes widened. She raised her hands in supplication. “Don’t do that for me, miss. Don’t do that for me.”
“Hush.” Nick’s voice boomed.
Lucy stilled.
Nick picked up the piece of paper and tucked it into his pocket. “Take the chains off. Have her brought to the carriage. We must be on our way.”
He pivoted toward the door, turning Morning Fawn with him.
Her burgundy gown swiped the torn rag-rug-covered floor.
What she wouldn’t give for a doeskin outfit and moccasins right about now, and the fastest horse this side of the Palo Duro.
But what good would they do? She was bound by her word as long as Nick Moyer kept his.
At the carriage with only Nick and his men as witnesses, Morning Fawn embraced Lucy.
Nick emitted a guttural groan as if she’d stepped into a pigsty.
Lucy stiffened and whispered, “Not in front of him. And don’t you dare go taking up with that man for me.”
“It’s not only for you.” Morning Fawn stepped back and gripped her shoulders. “It’s your freedom and Devon’s life.”
“Freedom?” Lucy’s brow furrowed like tree bark. “The lieutenant’s life?”
“We don’t have all night.” Nick swung open the door. “Does she want to walk from here or get a ride across the river?”
“The river.” Morning Fawn grabbed Lucy’s wrist and hurried her into the carriage.
“You’re allowing that…girl to ride inside?” Lawrence scowled.
“Unless you want her riding on back with you.” Nick raised a handkerchief to his nose as he entered the compartment.
Morning Fawn ignored the odor of someone being locked away for days with no facilities to bathe. Devon hadn’t smelt any better.
Lucy squeezed into the corner with Morning Fawn on the other side of her.
Nick settled down at the far end of the other bench. “I want to hear every word.”
Lucy held her tongue as Morning Fawn shared the basic details of the agreement and Lucy’s part.
At the end, Lucy shifted her glance to the ogre who stared out the window. She mouthed to Morning Fawn, “You and him, no. Gotta be another way.”
Morning Fawn shivered. “I’ll do whatever it takes to save Devon.”
“He...we…the rescue might not…”
Morning Fawn squeezed her friend’s hand. “You run like the wind and pour out your heart to those Unionists. Devon risked his life for their cause. Make them understand.”
Lucy nodded and mouthed, “You get away when it’s done.”
Morning Fawn turned her head and stared at her jailer. She’d given her word.
Across the river, Nick ordered his driver to pull over in a wooded spot outside of town.
“This is where you get off, girl. I’ll allow Miss Beth a moment in here alone with you for her to tell you the location of the Unionist hideout.
And I’ll give you the route the escort will take and where they’re likely to stop. Then Reynold’s life is in your hands.”
Lucy shuddered and lowered her gaze. “In the Lord’s hands, sir.”
“It’s not the Lord who’s going to be running and begging.
Never saw Him wield a gun. You’d best stick with the Unionists, pitiful lot that they are.
” He puffed out his chest. “And let me give you warning. If any word of my help here reaches Confederate ears, I’ll launch a manhunt for Reynolds the likes of which this state has ever seen, and Miss Logan will be my mistress, not my wife.
Therefore, the Unionists don’t need to know about my involvement.
Telling them would be like pouring water in a bucket with a hole.
As far as they’re concerned, Miss Logan helped you escape from me.
If you see Reynolds in person, you can tell him the whole story. ”
“I could write a note.” Morning Fawn clutched her hands. “A short note saying I’ve agreed to marry you.” And that I’ll love him forever.
Nick frowned. “All right. It’d be a shame for him to not hear the news. You’ve got three minutes to tell her and to write the note, and I’m going to read it.”
Ten minutes later, Morning Fawn braced herself on a tree as Lucy took off through the woods for Alleyton.
God go with her. Keep her safe. Please spare Devon.
For that, she’d pay whatever price she had to.
What did the Lord of the universe think of the bargain she’d sold herself for?
Had she been wrong? What choice did she have?
Devon woke in a cold sweat. He’d dreamed of Isabelle for the first time in months.
He shivered and pulled the wool blanket up to his neck, but there’d be no returning to sleep.
His future loomed in front of him like a guillotine.
Today, he’d start the journey to San Antonio.
If the German League or Jeremy didn’t take action, it would be his last journey.
Dear God, let this not be the end. Morning Fawn. Please, Lord, look after her.
A knock and then voices drifted up from below. Were the Rebs coming for him before dawn? He rolled up off the rock-hard floor and rubbed his eyes.
Footsteps clunked on the stairs—not just the jailer but several men. Devon got to his feet and straightened his clothes. He grabbed his blankets and his empty tin cup. He winced as he stretched out his left arm. A pent-up breath rattled through him.
An itch crawled up the back of his skull. He plucked a louse and smashed it between his fingernails.
The outer door lock clicked. Devon braced himself.
Lantern light beamed in through the open door. The jailer trudged in.
With a gun to his back?
Half a dozen men spilled into the hall that led to the cells. A motley crew of Rebs. But why did the officer in the slouch hat have a gun pointed at the jailer?
Devon blinked in the blinding light. His muscles tightened like sinew strung in a bow. If they’d come to lynch him, he wouldn’t go without a fight.
Suddenly, the officer clunked the jailer in the head. The fellow thudded to the ground. The soldier with the lantern stepped out of the way, and the bearded officer hurried forth.
Jeremy. The realization exploded in Devon’s head. Laughter burst from him. His meager possessions dropped from his hands. He lunged hard against his chain. “You’re here.”
“You bet I am.” Jeremy grabbed the keys to the cell from the man who riffled through the jailer’s pockets. “We’ve got to hurry. The other two guards are tied up downstairs. There’s a heavily armed Reb escort expected here within the hour. That slave girl of LeBeau’s—”
“Lucy? Was Morning Fawn with her?” Hope jolted through Devon.
“No, but she sent Lucy with word about the move and about how flimsy this jail setup was.” He stuck the key into the lock and turned.
“She had information about a place on the road we could strike, but I knew our best bet was here. I’d been hiding out for several days working to figure out a rescue.
Even dreamed up an excuse to visit LeBeau. ”
The cell door swung open.
“There’s no key for this.” Devon jiggled his chain.
“We’re prepared.” Jeremy slapped him on the shoulder.
Squeezed into a Reb uniform that was busting at the seams, Frederick stepped forward, sledgehammer in hand.
Two men Devon didn’t recognize hustled in with a hammer and a coal chisel to help.
Oscar’s brother, Henry, jerked the jailer’s hands behind his back and snagged a rope around the man’s wrists.
Ten minutes later, Devon was running down the stairs with his rescuers, a mix of the German League and a small squad of cavalry Jeremy had rounded up, leaving the jailer and the guards tied, gagged, and locked in the cell.
Jeremy stopped him at the door to the courtyard. “From here, we take it slow until we’re out of town. As far as any passersby are concerned, we’re the troop escort sent to haul you down to San Antonio.”
“In that case, you’d better point your gun on me.” Devon brought his hands in front of him and held them as if he were still bound.
Darkness draped the streets. Two men waited outside the fence, securing the horses for the others.
A rooster crowed from behind a nearby house.
The bird would have people stirring even before the sliver of dawn.
Devon quickstepped with his supposed captors out through the gate.
He went through the motions of having to be helped into the saddle on a mustang.
As they headed out, the men rode close to him on all sides.