Chapter 14
Levi walked with Widow Marsden the three blocks to her small cottage, steadying the elderly woman’s arm as she shuffled along the uneven path.
She thanked him profusely at her door, pressing a wrinkled hand to his in gratitude.
“You are a true blessing upon this community, Pastor. We are lucky to have you.”
“I am doing nothing out of the ordinary.”
“I beg to differ. Many have seen me struggle and have not lent a helping hand. You, however, are always happy to help, and I am grateful for it. I am glad, too, that God has blessed you with such a beautiful and wonderful wife.”
Levi felt his cheeks flush at her comment. “God is good,” he said before bidding her a good day and turning back toward the parsonage, his thoughts drifting to Eleanor. He smiled, eager to get back home so that he could share in her company.
As he turned onto the parsonage path, a sound stopped him cold. Nora was screaming. Her wails were filled with terror. Levi broke into a run, boots pounding against the ground in his haste. His eyes widened, and his heart seemed to halt when he saw the front door standing wide open.
Inside, the living room was in chaos. A chair lay on its side, and the table was shoved crookedly against the wall. His heart slammed against his ribs as he rushed into the kitchen.
Nora sat strapped into her highchair, face red and streaked with tears, howling in fear. She was alone. Another ice pick of panic drove into his chest. Where was Eleanor?
Levi scooped up his daughter and pressed her trembling body to his chest. His hands shook as he cradled her head, murmuring desperate reassurances. “I’ve got you, little one. I’ve got you.” The child clung to him, her small fists twisting in his shirt, sobs wracking her tiny frame.
The sound of running footsteps came from outside. The blacksmith’s boy skidded to a halt on the path, eyes wide. “Pastor! I saw it! Mrs. Crandall, she was taken! Two men carried her to the saloon, her head covered with a sack. She wasn’t moving. Should I?—”
“Go and tell the sheriff,” Levi instructed, trying to keep a level head even as his heart threatened to pound out of his chest. “Tell him I will be there in a minute.”
Before he could figure out what to do with his daughter, Grace hurried up the path, her face pale with alarm.
“What’s happened?” she asked in a breathless gasp, her eyes widening as she took in the state of the Crandall home through the open doorway.
“Is everything okay? I heard Nora screaming from across the way, and I came as fast as I could.”
Levi placed Nora into Grace’s arms. “Take her. Stay with her.” His voice was rough, edged with barely controlled fury and fear. Grace nodded, clutching the child close as Nora’s wails began to subside, but still she sniffled, calling out for her stepmother.
Knowing his daughter was safe, Levi strode across the main street. He burst into Sheriff Teague’s office. The sheriff was already equipped with his pistol.
Together, they crossed the street and pushed through the saloon's batwing doors.
The owner looked up from behind the bar, scowling at the lawman.
There was an unwritten rule that the happenings of the saloon were left alone.
The owner did not need all his customers getting locked up.
Nor did the sheriff want to lock them up every night.
But this was not about belligerent drunks. This was about an innocent woman taken from her home. The owner would just have to deal with the inconvenience.
Teague placed his hand flat on the countertop. “I’m looking for a woman. Witnesses saw her being hauled into your establishment. Do you happen to know anything about that?”
The owner pressed his lips into a thin line. “That’s a mighty grand accusation.”
“Do you want to lose your liquor license? Because I can make your life a nightmare,” Teague threatened, his eyes blazing with a fury that made the owner think twice about the coin he was receiving to keep his mouth shut.
Finally, he jerked his head toward the narrow stairs at the rear of the building.
“Second door on the right. They paid handsomely for privacy.”
Teague and Levi climbed the stairs, keeping their footsteps as quiet as possible, not wanting to give themselves away. The sheriff drew his pistol and nodded his head, signaling Levi to try the knob.
“Locked,” he whispered under his breath. In the next instant, he stepped back and drove his shoulder into the frame with all his strength. The door splintered and burst open.
Eleanor sat on the edge of a narrow bed, her wrists bound tightly in front of her, a livid red mark blooming on her cheek. A lean man in a gray coat stood between her and the door. Across the room, a man in a tailored suit with dark, oiled hair rose swiftly from a chair by the window.
The lean man reached for his belt. Teague’s pistol leveled toward the man in a smooth motion. “Hands flat against the wall. Now.”
A new voice spoke from the hallway behind them, calm and authoritative.
“No need for such theatrics, gentlemen.” A broad-built man with gray whiskers and a plain traveling coat stepped into view.
“Name’s George Williams. I’m a private investigator retained by Josiah Hargrove of Philadelphia.
I’ve been tracking his son Arden’s movements for the past three weeks.
I happened to be at the end of the hallway when the young woman was carried in.
Lucky for her, I heard every word spoken in this room.
The man Levi assumed was Arden Hargrove tightened his features into a blank slate, refusing to speak a word. He stared at the man as if he were a puzzle to be solved. What involvement did his wife have in all this?
William continued, his gaze fixed on the younger man. “Your father wanted to know whether his son was merely a thief or something worse. Now he will have his answer. Embezzlement. Murder. Kidnapping. You’ve outdone yourself, boy.” He motioned toward the lawman. “Would you care to do the honors?”
Sheriff Teague stepped forward, disarming the lean man known as Fleet Downing. Soon, both he and Arden were under arrest. The two were led downstairs, chains clinking, their fates sealed. With William’s testimony and the evidence he had gathered, he had them both dead to rights.
With the room now empty, Levi knelt beside his wife. Her gray eyes met his, filled with exhaustion, fear, and something raw and vulnerable. She lifted her bound hands. Quietly, he worked the knots until the rope fell away. Angry red marks lined her wrists where the bindings had bitten deep.
Levi had never been prone to violence, but in that moment, he wished he could dispense his own form of justice.
He did not know the whole story. Maybe it would change everything.
But right now, he wanted to sink his fist into the men who had hurt his wife.
He wrapped his arms around her, wishing he had been home, wishing he could have protected her.
Without a word, she leaned forward and pressed her forehead to his shoulder.
Levi tightened his grip and pulled her close.
His hand cradled the back of her head while the other rubbed circles into the small of her back.
She trembled against him, the faint scent of her hair and the warmth of her body grounding him amid the chaos of his rampaging thoughts.
“You’re safe,” he murmured against her temple, his voice low and fierce. “I’ve got you now.”
Levi felt the thunder of his heart gradually ease. Whatever secrets still lay between them, whatever storm had followed her from Philadelphia, none of it altered the simple, powerful truth.
She was his wife. He loved her. He would stand between her and any darkness that sought to claim her. Now and forever.