Chapter 24 #2
He and the others looked around but found no other tracks.
He followed the faint trail with his eyes until he saw the bluff in the distance, a swath of green near its base, roughly several miles away.
“There’s shelter over there. Trees, probably water too.
” Was it possible that a lone rider had intercepted Chloe?
Why? Had the mare gone lame? Had something distracted Chloe and she didn’t realize she’d veered off the trail?
“There’s nothing wrong with the buggy as far as I could see,” Murphy said.
As the livery stable hand, Murphy would know better than anyone.
Nathaniel leaned back in his saddle, searching the landscape.
Something had obviously prompted Chloe to unhitch the horse, and then two horses had ridden off.
The tracks didn’t look haphazard, nor was the ground churned up as if someone was being chased, horses running.
“Whadda ya think, Sheriff?” Pete asked, his gaze also focused on the bluff in the distance. “Do you think it might be some kind of trap?”
Nathaniel winced, not really knowing what to think. “These horses certainly don’t seem to be in any particular hurry, but they’re riding steady.” He dismounted and looked more closely before he pointed. “That print’s from my mother’s buggy mare. She’s got a slight chip in her front right shoe.”
He quickly remounted. “Let’s go see where they’re headed. Keep a sharp eye out.” After he settled in his saddle, he reached behind him and pulled his rifle from the scabbard. He was a better shot with his revolver, but for the time being he didn’t want to get too close.
“Looks like whoever was in the lead was holding the reins of the horse following,” Murphy noted.
Nathaniel nodded in agreement. That meant there were only two choices.
Either she was injured and someone had tried to help her, or she was someone’s prisoner.
One person had Chloe, but who was it? Were there others hiding in the grove up ahead or beyond it?
Were they heading into a trap? The bluff and the grove of trees at its base was still about a mile or so away when Pete spoke up.
“There’s a horse over there.”
Nathaniel turned to see where Pete pointed.
Sure enough, he saw a riderless horse without a saddle maybe thirty yards off, half-hidden in a shallow gully, still wearing some harness straps.
His heart sank. “That’s our mare.” He swallowed hard, tamping down a surge of fear that he would find Chloe’s body nearby.
Lord, please keep her in the shelter of your wings and protect her …
His anger had fled and worry had taken its place, but those worries had left him feeling a hollowness inside him that he hadn’t expected.
When had it happened? He’d never felt like this before but he knew at that moment that he had to find Chloe, he had to save her, not only for Eliza but for himself.
Was this what love felt like? A desire to protect someone else at all cost?
It wasn’t the same kind of love that he felt for his parents or his sister, but it was different somehow and he recognized that.
“… hear me?”
What if he didn’t get to Chloe in time and whoever had her hurt her or—
“Nathaniel! Did you hear me?”
Nathaniel turned to find Murphy’s gaze on him, brows furrowed in concern. “Yes,” he said, trying to ignore the aching in his chest as he attempted to clear his thoughts. He pressed his lips together and narrowed his eyes on the grove. “We don’t know how many might be in there.”
“Nope,” Murphy agreed. “But we haven’t seen any other tracks leading into it from this side. It might be just one rider.”
Nathaniel gave him a short nod. “Or it could be the whole gang of them who came in from the west and are now hiding out in there.”
His rifle lay across his legs, his right hand wrapped around the stock, his left holding the reins.
He pulled his horse to a halt, searching the distant grove of trees.
He saw no signs of smoke nor a campfire or anything else that indicated anyone was hiding in there.
His gaze searched the trees, trying to peer past branches and leaves and into the deeper shadows as his mind grappled with recent events and potential future possibilities.
Everett Kane was dead. If the person who’d taken Chloe was Silas Crowe, her life was in imminent danger. Crowe would be out of revenge, but they had been friends once. Good friends, Chloe said. Would the outlaw hurt her? Or worse?
“You think he’s taken her hostage or … or something else?”
He turned to Murphy. “I’ll pray that she’s a hostage and unhurt, but I still don’t understand what he could possibly try to negotiate for.
” He paused, eyebrows lowered. “We don’t even know how long he’s had her, if that’s what we’re seeing.
But he had to know that sooner or later she would be missed and I’d come searching for her. ”
Murphy heaved a sigh. “But why would he take her in the first place?” He eyed the sheriff. “Is there something we should know, Sheriff? If there is, I think this would be a good time to let us in on it, not only for her sake, but for ours.”
The others had gathered around and he nodded. “You’re right.” While he didn’t want to gossip about Chloe’s past, this was more than gossip. This was fact and they did deserve to know what they were getting into, what they might be facing.
“A long time ago, when Chloe was young, she knew a couple of outlaws—” He raised a hand to halt interruptions and continued. “This was back when the gang formed up. She didn’t know at the time that they’d become outlaws, and when she found out, she reported them.”
“That took some guts,” Seth murmured.
“More than some,” his brother Roger agreed.
“Who were they?” Layton Rawlings wanted to know.
Nathaniel hesitated. “Mind you, she reported those two men to the sheriff and her testimony sent them to prison.” He paused. “But they escaped and threatened revenge and have been looking for her ever since. She didn’t think they’d ever forgive her and she’s not forgotten their threats.”
“So who is it?” Seth asked. “Who do you think has her?”
“Silas Crowe was—”
“The outlaw? The one who rides with the Blackwell gang?” Roger interrupted, turning to the woods with a worried gaze. “And Everett Kane, their leader?” He whistled under his breath. “They’re in there? You think they’ve got her?”
“First off, I recently learned that Everett Kane is dead and has been for years. There’s a chance that Silas Crowe took over the gang, but I don’t know that for sure either,” he said. “But she’s not with the buggy and she’s not with the mare, so I’m thinking that someone who has her means her harm.
“Whadda ya think we should do?”
He turned toward Pete’s whispered query to find the man staring at the grove with narrowed eyes. Despite the fact Pete was nearing fifty now, his eyes were better than most, perhaps even Nathaniel’s. “You see anything?”
Pete slowly shook his head. “Don’t mean there’s no one in there though.” He gave a small shrug. “Used to be an old trapper’s shack in there from way back when.” He turned to Nathaniel. “Probably nothin’ more’n a pile of rotten planks by now but who knows?”
Nathaniel eyed the men gathered around him. “It’s time we put an end to that gang. They’ve caused enough havoc in these parts.” He looked at all of them. “I’ve got a personal stake in this, as I’m sure you all know, but I’ll understand if you decide to return to town—”
“I’m stayin’,” Pete declared, his voice harsh. “I’ve never backed away from a fight and I ain’t about to start now.”
“Same here,” said Seth Hanscom with a firm nod. Moments later, his brother agreed.
Finally, Layton Rawlings spoke up. “We’re behind you, Sheriff, every step of the way.”
Nathaniel eyed them all once more, pleased by their dedication. “All right then. Make every shot count. Watch your backs and each other.”
He nudged his horse forward. By the time he got within forty yards or so from the edge of the grove of trees, the others spread out around him, he was able to see the structure that Pete had referred to.
The ramshackle shack leaned to the right now, half the roof gone.
Over the years branches and roots of shrubs had grown in between the planks.
He urged his horse to a halt, the others following suit.
Most revolvers had good effect to within thirty yards, but after that, few could hit a target at fifty, let alone a moving one.
“Watch yourselves,” he murmured. His voice carried in the quiet and still air, so quiet he didn’t even hear the chirp of a bird or the chatter of a squirrel within the grove of trees beyond.
A shiver ran down his spine. They were in there, he knew it.
“Watch your shots, men, we don’t want to be shooting wild—”
The bark of a gunshot shattered the stillness. A puff of dirt exploded in the ground maybe twenty-five yards in front of his horse.
“Stop right there!” The shout came from the shadows of the trees. “Come any closer and she’s dead!”