Chapter Twenty-Two #2
He passed the first two small caves, slowly approaching the larger one.
He pressed his back against the rocky base of the cliff, and paused to listen.
There! Just now, he’d heard voices entrenched in an argument.
Was that Eileen? Lord knew his wife enjoyed a lively discussion—especially when she felt she was right about something.
He sent up a silent prayer: “God, please keep me wife safe. I need her.”
Flaherty edged closer to the entrance, but at a sound behind him, he paused to wait for his cousin.
“Is Eileen inside the cave?”
“I heard voices arguing,” Flaherty answered.
O’Malley nodded. “Sounds like yer wife to me. What’s the plan—aside from storming the cave with the Flaherty battle cry?”
Flaherty glared at his cousin. “What’s wrong with me family’s battle cry?”
O’Malley shrugged. “’Tisn’t as spine tingling as the O’Malleys’.”
Flaherty curled his hands into fists, then relaxed them. He could punch his cousin later. At the moment he needed O’Malley’s full attention, not the half that would be left after he went a few rounds with the man.
O’Malley sighed. “Fine, then. Ye take the lead, and give yer battle cry first. I’ll wait a heartbeat and give mine. Guns in hand, and knives unsheathed.”
Flaherty agreed. “I go first.”
“I just said—”
O’Malley’s words were cut off by Flaherty’s battle cry, and the echoing of shouts from within the cave. Hot on his cousin’s heels, O’Malley roared his as they rushed at whoever was inside.
Flaherty’s heart nearly stopped beating at the sight in front of him.
His wife lay unmoving in front of a small boy on his knees with his hands tied behind his back, and a young woman—the boy’s mother?
—hands bound in front of her, kneeling beside him.
He’d sort out who was who later. First he had to go through the four men—Selkirk, Talbot, and two others—braced to prevent him from getting to his wife.
He heard a whisper and knew O’Malley stood beside him. “I’ll take Selkirk and the man beside him,” Flaherty said. “Ye take Talbot the man next to him.”
“You cannot kill Selkirk,” O’Malley reminded him.
Flaherty’s guttural cry startled the men.
He threw his knife, satisfied with the following scream of pain from the man who’d thought to kidnap his wife and get away with it.
Selkirk clutched his hand, and Flaherty knew he’d have the time to disarm him.
He swept the injured man’s weapon out of reach with his left foot, then pulled his knife free.
He reached for his cravat and swore. He’d left it behind.
“O’Malley, I need yer cravat.” His cousin frowned, but untied it and gave it to him.
Flaherty handed Selkirk the cravat. “Wrap it around yer hand to stanch the blood.”
Without breaking a sweat, Flaherty shifted and kicked out with his right foot to disarm the man beside Selkirk. The man stared at his empty hand for a moment, as if he could not believe what he was looking at. It hung at an odd angle.
Flaherty knew the feeling would come roaring back in a few seconds, maybe minutes, and the blackguard would realize he’d not only been disarmed.
A sharp intake of breath was followed by a ragged groan of pain. “You broke my wrist!”
“And I’ll be breaking more than that for what Selkirk and ye did to me wife.”
Flaherty glanced at O’Malley, who said, “I’ll tie them up. Yer wife’s regaining consciousness.”
Flaherty knelt beside Eileen, gently lifting her head so she rested against his lap.
Gently stroking the tips of his fingers across her forehead, along the line of her jaw, the curve of her cheek, he crooned, “Come now, lass—open yer sky-blue eyes.” He watched her thick lashes fluttering, but worried when they did not open immediately.
O’Malley squatted beside him. “Give her a minute or two—she’s coming around and will open her eyes. Ye’ll see.”
Even as he said the words, the lass slowly opened her eyes, then frowned at Flaherty. “You are not bleeding.”
His snort of laughter echoed off the walls of the cave. “There’s a lass. Don’t move too quickly—ye may be concussed.”
“Easy now, and listen to yer husband,” O’Malley added. “I need to untie the other prisoners.”
Eileen tried to push against Flaherty’s hold, until he urged, “Lie still a moment more.”
“But we need to save…” She looked at the boy and his mother kneeling beside her. “I don’t even know your names.”
“I’m so sorry, miss,” the woman said. “I begged them not to take my son, but they had a knife to his throat.”
Flaherty felt his blood begin to boil. “Who did?”
Freed, she rubbed her wrists before putting her arms around her son and drawing him close. The lad buried his head in his mother’s embrace as he wrapped his little arms around her. “Selkirk.”
O’Malley moved to stand in front of the wrecker, who held his bloody hand to his chest. “Ye’re lower than—”
Selkirk lunged at Flaherty.
Anger surged through him as he dodged to the side and tripped Selkirk. The man got to his feet and, despite his injured hand, swung at Flaherty, who growled, “Ye’ll pay for stealing me wife!” He locked gazes with the wrecker. “And I know just how to exact what ye owe me!”
Selkirk dodged the first two blows, but not the third or fourth.
Flaherty stunned him with a solid left cross, followed by an uppercut that lifted the wrecker off his feet.
He followed the man to the ground, knelt above him, and pounded him with his fists.
Each blow sang up his arms to his heart.
He wanted to beat the man bloody…beat him senseless… beat him to—
Hard hands gripped Flaherty’s shoulders until he pulled the punch he’d been about to land. Scowling, he didn’t bother to glance behind him—he knew it was O’Malley. “Let go. I’m not finished with the blackguard!”
“Aye, boy-o,” O’Malley said. “Ye are.”
“I’ve got to—”
“Let him live, Fenton,” Eileen murmured from where she sat on the sandy cave floor, “so he can be punished for kidnapping me.”
“And to answer for his other crimes: murdering innocent sailors and passengers on the boats he helped lure to shore,” O’Malley added.
“But I want to…” Flaherty swallowed the rest of his words. Did it really matter what he wanted to do?
He sighed and shifted to his feet.
O’Malley shook his head. “Later. Tend to yer wife.”
“I’m fine,” Eileen said, staring at O’Malley’s back. “You’re not bleeding either.”
O’Malley chuckled. “Ye say that as if it saddens ye.”
“It’s not that. Poor Mollie must be beside herself worrying about you—the both of you! I thought I’d find you, and the stable hands who were supposed to follow along behind me with the wagon to carry you home.”
Flaherty sighed. “Do ye mean to tell me Mollie is worrying, but ye weren’t?”
Eileen shook her head and promptly moaned in pain.
Flaherty knelt beside his wife and braced a hand to the side of her face, holding it still. “Where does it hurt, lass?”
His wife closed her eyes for a moment before slowly opening them. “The base of my skull and my temple.”
“Ye were struck more than once?”
“Aye.”
“In the head?” Flaherty could not believe what she’d had to endure, and all because of the blackguard who had tried to kill him—twice! “Who did it?”
“I don’t know. My head hurt from driving it into Selkirk’s stomach—all I saw was movement out of the corner of my eye before I was struck in the back of the head, then the side.”
“Ye headbutted Selkirk?”
“I thought it prudent to do so at the time,” she answered.
Flaherty grinned. “What a brave woman I’ve married. Isn’t she wonderful, O’Malley?”
“Aye, the best. She’ll fit right in with me wife and the others who have gotten into more than one fix.”
“But yer wife—” Flaherty began.
“Do ye not remember the trouble me wife got into when she first arrived?” His cousin chuckled then added, “Fought like a wildcat to rescue me, set fire—”
“I remember, Finn. Ye don’t have to retell the tale ye’ve already repeated more than once. We need to get ye back to the manor,” Flaherty told his wife. “We’ll summon the physician—and ye’ll be following his every order.”
When she started to protest, he continued, “There’s no help for it, lass.
Ye’ll be seeing the physician, and resting for at least a fortnight.
I’ll not lose ye because ye got the idea in yer brain to rescue yerself and headbutt a man more than twice yer size.
The other two blows ye could not avoid.”
She bit her lip before admitting, “My head aches abominably.”
“Lie still for a few moments more while I find out about this brave lad here who thought only to protect his ma. What’s yer name, lad?”
“Nate,” the boy replied.
“Ye should be proud of the way ye protected yer ma against this rabble, Nate.” Flaherty glanced over his shoulder and shook his head. “Not a one of them is honorable. I’m thinking they had other plans for yerself and yer ma that did not include letting ye go.”
“But I did what he asked,” the boy reminded Flaherty.
“Aye, but after ye did, he didn’t keep his side of the bargain, did he?”
Nate hung his head. “He bragged about what he had planned for my mum.”
Flaherty placed his hand on the boy’s slumped shoulder. “No need to repeat his threats. Ye’re safe, yer ma is safe, and so is me wife. Are ye ready to leave?”
Nate trembled beneath Flaherty’s hand. “I don’t want the constable to lock me up.”
Flaherty chuckled. “Ah, lad. Ye’re not in danger of being put behind bars.
Now then, we have prisoners to escort to the village—but I’m expecting men to arrive to assist with that chore.
I’m thinking ’twould be best if yerself and yer ma came with us to the manor house.
That way we can ensure that neither of ye are injured where we cannot see. ”
“Oh, I do not think that is necessary—”
“Did you forget my promise to you?” Eileen asked Nate’s mother.
The reed-thin woman shook her head. “You do not even know my name!”