Chapter 21 #2
He kept circling the buggy, humming to himself, riding slowly, never looking directly at her but darting quick glances.
Her heart racing, she tightened her grip on the reins even more, so much so her knuckles turned white.
Perhaps she should just make a run for it, slap the reins and go, perhaps make it to safety somewhere before he did whatever it was he was planning to do.
“I don’t have any money.” She winced at the tremble in her voice.
He snorted. “It ain’t your money I want.”
Her head spun and for a moment her vision wavered. Don’t faint! She pressed her lips together, praying for courage although it took everything she had to keep any expression of fear from her eyes no matter how terrified she was. Bad people who did bad things thrived on fear and intimidation.
When she was young she had been told by someone, she couldn’t remember who, that showing fear to an animal only made them more prone to attack, and the same applied to humans.
She inhaled deeply and let her breath out slowly.
Trying to keep her voice as calm as possible, she watched the man once again circle his horse around the buggy.
“Then what do you want?” she dared to challenge.
He pulled his horse to a halt, his back once again against the sun so she couldn’t see his face. Was that on purpose? So if she was attacked and later asked to identify the person who had attacked her, she wouldn’t be able to give a description? Or was it a mere coincidence?
He didn’t say anything for several moments, his head cocked slightly to the side. He slowly moved his hand toward the handle of the revolver in its holster, slowly drew it out, and pointed it at her as he thumbed back the hammer.
“You,” he murmured.
She thought she’d been afraid before and she was, but now she was terrified.
No, this couldn’t be happening, not now, not when she was on her way to pick up Eliza.
Her daughter didn’t know she was on the way to the orphanage, but what would she think when she was told Chloe, her mother, along with the horse and buggy was gone?
Her daughter would believe she’d been abandoned. Again.
The man held the gun on her, staring for several moments before turning his head and looking all around. “You lost?”
She didn’t dare tell him she was heading for the orphanage. “I was … I was going to visit a friend.”
The man said nothing for several moments, shifting in the saddle as his horse sidled to the side. “Ain’t no ranches out this way.”
“I didn’t say it was a ranch,” she replied. Her voice sounded surprisingly calm, which was at direct odds with how she felt on the inside. “Who are you? What do you want?” He chuckled so softly the sound sent a chill up her spine.
“Already told you what I want. As for who I am, well that’s for you to figure out.”
She frowned. What did he mean by that? “I don’t … I don’t know who you are or why you’re bothering me.” A small surge of courage came from out of nowhere. “I minding my own business. I would suggest you mind your own as well.”
He uttered a short bark of laughter. “That so? Why? You think I’m afraid of that sheriff in town?
You think he’s gonna come out here lookin’ for you?
” He shook his head, tsking. “You know what he’s gonna think?
” He waved the gun barrel slightly. “He’s gonna think you done gone and run off, like you always do. ”
That took her by surprise. What did he know about Nathaniel, and more importantly, what did he think he knew about her? She stiffened her back, pretending a calm she didn’t feel. Her feigned bravado was all for Eliza. “You don’t know me and I don’t know you.”
He heaved a sigh. “That’s where you’re wrong, Chloe.”
She gasped in shock, her heart pounding even harder. “Who are you?” she demanded, her voice harsh as a deeper fear bubbled inside her.
For several moments, all she heard was the sound of the breeze rustling through the scrub brush, and off in the distance near a small cluster of scrub oaks, she heard crows cawing at something, their cries loud and strident. All she could think about at the moment was Eliza. She had to get Eliza!
The man holding the gun nudged his horse forward a couple of steps and then again pulled up. “You want to know who I am?” he snarled, voice low in his throat as he leaned forward in the saddle, thrusting his face closer.
On second thought, she didn’t want to know. She realized that if she was able to identify him, chances were he would kill her after he was done doing whatever it was he was going to do or what he was going to take. A thought struck her, prompting a chill to race down her spine. No!
Her nostrils flared and her mind took flight for a moment as she swayed slightly on the bench seat.
No! Don’t faint! You have to be brave and strong.
For Eliza. She tried to straighten her back though it seemed to take a huge effort.
She couldn’t swallow, her mouth dry as she stared wide-eyed at the shadowy face of the man.
“Still can’t guess?” He uttered a low chuckle. “Maybe this’ll help.”
Eyes wide, she watched him pull the hat from his head.
With the hat gone, the shadow lifted from his face.
She gasped, heart in her throat now. She unconsciously jerked on the reins, causing the horse to shuffle in his harness a bit.
The soft clank of the harness chains and the squeak of leather braces brought her back to the present.
She stared for several moments, her eyes searching that face and heart in her throat as she pressed trembling lips together as her ears rang.
Every sound around her seemed amplified, the heat of the sun on her face tingling against her skin, the breeze in the scrub brush louder than it had been before, the buzzing of the fly bothering the horse and the swish of the mare’s tail even louder.
He laughed. She remembered that laugh, but it was different now, harsher, with very little true amusement in it.
She reached down deep inside, praying for strength and courage even though she wanted to scream.
Her eyes darted around, wondering where Everett was hiding.
She knew he had to be out there somewhere.
Her heart sank and she turned back to him.
“Silas.”
He smiled. His teeth were no longer as white as they had been, the skin of his face darkly tanned and leathery from long periods of exposure to sun and weather.
He was thinner than she remembered. His face seemed longer, his cheeks gaunt.
A patch of whiskers on his left jaw line had gone slightly gray, the rest of the straggly and close-cropped beard the darker brown that she remembered.