Chapter 23
Chloe sat uncomfortably on the back of the buggy mare, clinging to the yoke strap that Silas had left in place after cutting away the rest of the harness.
He’d used one of the straps to make a long lead and created a loop on one end, which he’d placed over the mare’s head.
He’d wrapped the other end of the strap to his saddle horn.
He’d then bound her hands with another smaller strap of leather.
“You don’t need to tie my hands, Silas,” she’d said. He hadn’t looked at her nor answered. Her heart sank. Nathaniel! Would he come after her? Would he go to the orphanage and make sure Eliza was safe? Of course he would. It was the only thought that brought her some comfort.
Her heart pounded in her chest. If Silas knew about Eliza, chances were that Everett had known as well before he died. Or had he? Despair rose inside her as her mare followed Silas’s at a trot. They were headed slightly to the north, toward a low bluff and grove of trees in the distance.
She bounced hard on the mare’s back, struggling to keep her balance, her bound hands clutching handfuls of the horse’s mane.
She’d never ridden bareback before and barely managed to maintain her seat.
Her heart pounded with fear and uncertainties.
She kept her questions to herself for the time being, concentrating on not falling off.
Silas glanced over his shoulder at her once in a while, his features harsh and angry.
She didn’t believe he was doing that out of concern.
Had Nathaniel seen her letter yet? Was he at this moment thinking that he was sorry he’d never met her?
She wasn’t. No matter what happened now, she knew she would always love Nathaniel Cross despite what he might think of her now.
He had given her a sense of safety and security she hadn’t felt in her entire life. He—
“We’ll stop up there for a brief rest.”
She turned to Silas, at the moment searching the tree line of the small grove. A thought struck her. She thought about the stagecoach attack. While she didn’t really want to know, she asked. “Was it you and your gang that attacked the stagecoach I was on just before we reached Cedar Bluff?”
“Your stage was attacked?” He shrugged as he glanced over his shoulder with a snort. “It weren’t me. I don’t have a gang no more.”
Her brows raised in surprise. So it wasn’t the Blackwell gang that attacked the coach. Then why? A more pressing question rose. “I thought you said—”
“Aw, I became the leader after Everett died, but I wasn’t … I tried to hold ‘em together, but let’s just say I ain’t no leader. Not long after, a couple drifted off, then the rest of us just kinda scattered. Been on my own since.”
He said no more. Soon after, he guided them into the grove, deeper into the shadows, the bluff rising above.
Twigs snapped and leaves shuffled beneath their horse’s hooves.
The angry bark of a squirrel protested their presence.
Through the branches beyond, she caught sight of a dilapidated shack.
She frowned. Who would have lived way out here?
He dismounted and gestured for her to do the same.
Grabbing a handful of the horse’s mane, she slid off the mare’s back, her legs nearly crumbling beneath her.
They hadn’t ridden long, but she’d held herself so stiffly as she’d tried to maintain her balance, every muscle in her body now protested.
Fear still thrummed through her. Her knees sagged but she forced herself to stand straight, to look him right in the eye.
He looked so different now, and it wasn’t just the passage of time that had wrought the change.
What had happened to the friend that she used to rely on so?
“We’ll rest the horses here.” He gestured toward the jagged stump of a half fallen tree, likely struck by lightning years ago. “Sit.”
She obeyed, sinking gratefully onto the trunk, glad that it was at least stationary and not jarring her stomach into her throat every second.
He stood with his back to her, hands on his hips, staring at her.
He didn’t seem concerned that she might attack him.
After all, she had nothing she could attack him with other than her fists, which she knew would be not only foolish but pointless as well.
“Why are we stopping here?”
He didn’t look at her or reply.
“Silas, why are we stopping here?” she asked again. It was only when she used his name that he turned to look at her, this time shoving his hands into the pockets of his worn, dirty dungarees.
“Because I wanted to.” He glanced over his shoulder toward the direction from which they’d come. “Wanted to make sure we ain’t been followed.”
She sighed and almost told him that he probably didn’t need to worry about that, that once Nathaniel and his family read her letter, no one would come looking for her.
Why would they, after the secret she’d held so close to her heart.
Not to mention what her husband had done to their family.
They might likely think ‘good riddance’.
Then again, perhaps now, but it didn’t really matter, not this minute anyway.
Despite her precarious situation, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of calm sweep through her, knowing that Nathaniel would be safe, that she wouldn’t be putting him or his family in danger any longer.
Yet although Everett had been dead for years, Silas had apparently continued to search for her. Why?
She eyed her old friend, now a stranger, her gaze traveling over him.
He’d grown taller and even leaner over the years, but it was his face that had transformed the most. Gone was the almost careless expression he had maintained over the years at the orphanage.
Gone was the kindness she’d always seen in his eyes when he looked at her.
Silas Crowe was hard now, both in form and demeanor, his cheekbones stark, his cheeks hollow, his eyes half-slatted as he searched the distance, his mouth tugged into a slight frown as they latched onto her before passing on.
He finally turned to focus on her, staring at her with the same curiosity with which she stared at him.
“Why’d you keep looking for me, Silas?” she asked bluntly. “Revenge?”
His eyes lingered on her face and then her figure and then her hands, clasped together in her lap.
She sought to maintain a sense of calm herself, to not let him know the terror and dread she felt at the thought of what was going to happen to her.
What would happen to Eliza if she never returned to the orphanage to fetch her?
Would the Cross family leave her there at the orphanage or would they …
“You wanna know something, Chloe?” Silas broke the silence.
She stiffened and looked at his face again but said nothing.
Sure enough, gone was the boy she’d grown up with, the friend that he’d once been.
In his place stood a stranger that looked years older than his age, eyes narrowed as he stared with cold eyes, no expression in them, as if he studied a bug that had crawled out from beneath the sand.
“That kid at the orphanage over yonder, she’s yours, ain’t she?”
Her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach and she squeezed her hands together so he wouldn’t see them trembling. He knew about Eliza! Dread thrummed through her with every heartbeat. He took a step closer.
“No point denyin’ it, Chloe, I’ve been watchin’ you.
” He tilted his head, a slow smile curving his lips.
“It took me a while to finally track you down.” He took a few steps closer and then crouched down, knees bent and hands now folded in front of him as he stared at her.
“Everett and me, we learned about the kid after we escaped that prison you sent us to.”
What was the point of being afraid now? She had to dig deep and find a little bit of courage.
All by herself, not expecting nor looking for anyone else to give it to her; not a new town, not her efforts to disguise itself; not the few friends or acquaintances she’d made along the way, except perhaps Maggie, back in Piney.
She couldn’t count on Nathaniel to protect her now.
It was her job, her duty, to protect her daughter at all costs.
It always had been. Hers and hers alone.
“I didn’t send you to a prison, Silas,” she said softly, briefly pleased her voice didn’t tremble overmuch. “A judge did.”
He leaned closer, his eyes boring into hers as if he could peer into the depths of her soul.
“Nah, it was you and your testimony.” He frowned as if confused.
“Why would you go and do that, Chloe? I thought we were friends. Everett was your husband, and still you had to go and blab about us, didn’t you? ”
She lifted her chin, her nostrils flaring slightly as she sought any hint of the boy she used to know, but she couldn’t find even a shadow. “You and Everett were hurting people, stealing things they worked hard for.”
“We had nothing,” he said slowly, his voice soft though icy. “You want to know why I started doin’ whatever Everett said?” He leaned closer, a frown tugging down the corners of his mouth. Do you know why I started stealin’, why we started stealin’?”
She didn’t answer as she fought the urge to look away from his cold gaze.
He lifted a hand and pointed his finger at her, jabbing it close to her chest but not touching. “To put food in your belly, that’s why,” he snapped. “You were happy enough to eat that food, weren’t you?”
She thought back to those times, when hunger gnawed at her stomach and sent shafts of pain through her body, making her feel jumpy and lethargic at the same time.
“I remember stealing a loaf of bread or potato or two, Silas, but attacking people? Breaking into their homes, frightening them with guns? Taking their things—”
“He did it for you, Chloe, to get you things!” Silas snapped. “We both did, and what’d we get for our trouble?”