Promise Bridge (36 page)

“De creek pools down over de hill yonder,” Winston said to James. “Come mornin’, it be a good place to wash de sweat and stink off us. Might help if any hounds is set on us tomorr’y.”

His words were so matter-of-fact. If I had opened my eyes, tears would have sprinkled from them. However, with so little time to revive my strength, I refused to release even a drop of effort on a worthless tear. Their voices drifted away and sleep settled over me like morning mist on a rose; however, my respite was not meant to last. Tension of mind and body awakened me deep in the night, with nothing to do but stare at the pearl- filled sky spread above me. The anguish stirring inside me brought to mind a starry night of yesteryear when my naïveté was torn from me by the sight of Uncle Mooney on top of defenseless Fatima. I remember searching the stars for comfort, as I was doing now, only to be swallowed by despair in knowing any small droplet of decency I gave to the Runians was lost in a sea of cruelty. Another surge from the wretched tide of hate would surely be faced in the morning.

When the first hint of the rising sun grayed the sky, I rose and walked among the trees to where the stream cupped within a small hollow. At the far end of the pool, the water tumbled down a rock ledge and disappeared into the wilderness below. The glistening ripples beckoned me to shed my soiled clothing and immerse into the cool pond. I untied my hair so it fell around my shoulders and rinsed the grime of the road from my clammy skin. Slipping beneath the surface, I let the mild current gently flow through my hair. I tilted my head back and arched atop the water to float on my back. My aching body eased in the caress of the stream.

Suddenly, a deep splash plunked behind me, and the tight grip of a hand grabbed my arms and yanked me backward, dragging me through the water. A terrifying scream tore from my throat, but I was immediately plunged beneath the surface. Just as quickly, I was pulled up, spitting and sputtering for breath. All around me the long, heavy strands of a willow hung into the water like a curtain draped from branch to stream. In one forceful motion, I was swirled around in the waist-deep water. With two panicked blinks, the water drained from my eyes, clearing my vision.

“Marcus!” He stared down at me, wide-eyed and trembling, and I realized he was as shaken as I. “What is it? Is it Colt?”

“Do you know what could happen to you here alone? The thought of one of these dirty rascals stumbling onto you like this . . .”

One thought twisted me from head to toe. A need so strong it rose from my depths, bringing with it the only words that mattered to me. “Did you find Colt?”

Marcus hesitated, then nodded. “He looks to be breathin’, but most o’ the life has been beat outta him. He is hog-tied in a pen with two coloreds.” Marcus looked at me intently. “That one- eyed snake is there watchin’ over him.”

“Twitch? My God, we must free Colt as quickly as possible. Twitch will torture him into an early grave, and take pleasure in doing so.”

Marcus removed his shirt and wrapped it around me. “We’ll go when tonight’s moon rises.”

“I know you are against me accompanying you, but . . .”

“All four of us will go,” he said, not making me plead for his approval.

“Thank you, Marcus.” I was relieved that he understood my need to provide support in Colt’s rescue. “I must do all I can for him, no matter the outcome.”

“I am sorry for bein’ so hard on you about comin’. You ain’t never stood in the way of me doin’ what I gots the need to do. You deserve the same respect. I jes’ didn’t want no harm to come to you.”

“I carry the same fear for you,” I said, pressing my hand to his cheek. “A painful honor that comes with caring about one another.”

There, with the weeping willow falling around us, my heart grew heavy with a foreboding notion that our lives would never be the same.

Chapter 37

“D
oes anyone have any questions?” Marcus had carefully scratched a rough sketch in the soft dirt, marking where men, wagons, and tents were arranged in the narrow vale. Two crisscrossed lines pinpointed the pen imprisoning Colt. “There is roundabout two dozen men, but we are favored by surprise. They don’t know we is here.”

“Mo’ men means mo’ guns,” James said, studying the drawing. “We only got two worn-out rifles ’tween us.”

“Ain’t no gettin’ around that fact,” Marcus said flatly. “But it ain’t easy hittin’ a movin’ target in the dark. Their first instinct will tell ’em the attackers are comin’ from the main road windin’ down from the north. They won’t expect it comes from behind by way o’ the eastern ridge. We gots’ta be quick and scatter back into the woods befo’ they get their wits about ’em.”

Winston traced a line with his finger leading from the encampment back to the circle representing our carriage and point of escape. “Say again how we meet up after we tussle with them low-down dogs.”

“After we move down the mountain at dusk, we’ll spread apart about twenty to thirty paces with me leading the way, followed by Winston, Hannah, and then James in the rear. When we is close enough to taste the smoke of their campfire, we’ll spread out to the points I marked here in the dirt. I will go to the edge of camp closest to where Colt is penned up and wait for the first shot to be fired. Winston, you and James take the guns and go to the far end of camp where the vale opens up toward the main road. Stay hidden in the trees, but get close enough to scare them from their blankets when you shoot them guns into the sky. If they think they is under fire from the soldiers they been scufflin’ with, it should stir ’em good and give me my best chance at fetchin’ Colt during the commotion. Hannah, you hang back some and stay hidden while we all get to our places. If you see any strangers scoutin’ the woods, signal us. Can you do a call like a hoot owl?”

I shrugged. “I’ve never tried, but Colt taught me how to coo like a dove.”

“I guess that will have to do.” Marcus nodded his encouragement, then continued with his instructions. “Once you boys crack off a half-dozen shots, you get on back to the carriage as fast as you can, before them rascals figure out they ain’t in any real danger. That means you too, Hannah. If the plan works in our favor, I will be on your heels with Colt in tow. When two or more o’ you have made it back here, wait no mo’ than the time it would take to pluck a chicken, then get these wheels rollin’ fo’ home. Any stragglers will catch up somewhere down the road. That gots’ta be the way of it. Do you all understand?”

I bristled at the thought. “What if only one of us has returned?”

Marcus took my hand. “You gots’ta leave before the night sky starts graying toward sunup, no matter who is here or who is not here. I know yo’ heart will tell you different, but remember when I had to leave Livetta behind when she got shot? It gots’ta be done to give all of us the best chance of gettin’ away. If any of us runs into trouble or gets delayed, we will follow on home. Jes’ keep a watch on the horizon.”

We all nodded in solemn agreement. I looked at each man, wishing to thank them for their courage, but I did not want my words to sound like I was bidding them farewell. Planting the seed of possible failure would do them no favor.

We were swift when the time came to move down the mountain. Moonlight trickled through the thick treetops, helping us navigate the rocky terrain. Marcus stopped in short intervals, leaving clues for us to follow later when we retraced our steps without his assistance. Simple and discreet, he placed three fist-sized stones at the base of intermittent trees, arranged horizontally in the direction to move. Indistinguishable to others, they served as our road map back to the carriage.

The first hint of smoky aroma in the air made my heart teeter. Soon, I could barely breathe; not because of our pace or the increasing smoke, but because we were closing in on our target. Ahead of me, Winston waved for me to stop. The sight of a rifle in his hand made evident the grave point we had reached. He took off to the right toward the lower pass and disappeared into the shadows. James’s footsteps approached me from behind. When he saw me in the moonlight, he turned and followed in Winston’s tracks.

About two hundred paces in front of me, Marcus stepped from behind a tree. He faced me, although we were no more than silhouettes in the night. He raised one hand and then the other, completing his distant half of a promise bridge. I raised each of my hands in return, holding them high until he had gone. I stood alone in the forest, unprepared for the sudden wave of despair that washed over me. It had been a long time since I felt useless, and the feeling did not sit well with me. Simply to wait and watch seemed purposeless. There had to be more I could do. My conscience whispered at first, then grew into a prodding roar. I swooped up the hem of my skirt and sprinted after Marcus. My intent was not to distract him, so I softened my steps when I caught a glimpse of him in the distance.

The flicker of flames reflected a kaleidoscope of orange and gold through the trees ahead of me. The length of the camp stretched out to my right toward the northern pass. Marcus disappeared again into the shadows along the backside of the camp. I guessed he was circling to the other side, perhaps to better position himself. I crept among the trees until I could see where the clearing spread wide. Crawling into a thicket of mountain laurel, I pulled back a branch to behold the enemy. Two fires crackled, their flames low to the ground and restrained for the night. One flickered far to my right, where James and Winston had run. At least twenty horses were secured to two long ropes tied along the tree line edging each side of the camp. I was relieved the animals were at a distance and not likely to stir at my presence. From my vantage point, there were at least four wagons as well. What was hidden in the darkness beyond the ring of firelight was uncertain. Lumps of blankets were scattered throughout the camp. Each one rose and fell in rhythm with the dozing breaths of men wrapped within. A log in the fire nearest me suddenly snapped and split in two, lifting a burst of hot sparks up into the blackness. There in the hellish eruption, I saw him.

Twitch
. He sat against a jagged rock directly across the camp from me. His hat was pulled down over his eyes, but there was no mistaking his worn snakeskin boots. He looked to be on guard, with arms folded across his chest and his shotgun propped between his knees, but the intermittent rising of his shoulders gave away his surrender to sleep. Just beyond the glow of the fire was a pen built the size of three wagons side by side. The structure was barely waist-high, and hunched within were three dark figures. My heart twisted although I could not distinguish which of these men was Colt. How I wished I could shoot Twitch between the eyes for what he had done.

Everything spread before me jolted when the bang of a rifle echoed through the vale from the area near the pass. Instantly, the men scrambled for weapons and the horses cried as they kicked and bumped each other in spooked terror. Twitch bolted upright as well, and by the time the second shot rang out, he was in full battle mode. Voices barked back and forth.

“Soldiers comin’ from the pass!”

“Get the gunpowder from the wagons,” another snarled.

Then a crazy yelp prickled the hairs on the back of my neck. “Yeehaaaw, we got us a fight!” Through the shadows, I saw the bounty hunter Shook raise a rifle over his head. “Come on, boys, let’s whup some Yankee ass!”

Everyone, including Twitch, took up arms in the direction of the shooters. The moment our end of the camp cleared of men, Marcus burst from the trees to my left. In his grasp was a large rock, which he used to pound against the padlock securing the pen. Marcus landed a fierce blow to the lock, cracking it into three pieces. He yanked the door off its hinges and tossed it aside. One imprisoned slave scrambled out, knocking Marcus aside as he broke free into the night. The next man crawled out, laboring on cramped legs.

“Which way is north?” he pleaded, as Marcus helped him to his feet. “I gots’ta go north!”

Marcus pointed up the mountainside, but before he could give the freed man any more direction, he limped into the tree cover. I turned back and saw Marcus crouched inside the pen, pulling Colt to the door. When they emerged, Colt was cramped and unable to straighten. Marcus braced his shoulder beneath Colt’s underarm and lifted him to his feet. Colt’s lips and left cheek were swollen to the point of distortion. Even his parched voice was barely recognizable. His injuries of limb and body appeared numerous, but he fought to right himself for flight. “Marcus?” His cloudy eyes glimmered slightly before a wave of dizziness buckled his knees.

“Stand strong, friend,” Marcus urged gently. “We gonna get you out of here.”

I could not stay idle, but no sooner had I unfolded from my tucked position when footsteps crunched along the tree line past me. Nearly exposed, I dropped back into the bushes and watched the lone figure stop halfway between me and where Marcus struggled with Colt.

“Well, looky here,” sniggered a familiar voice, oozing with anger and surprise. He had his back to me so his face was hidden, but I recognized Twitch’s mocking tone. “I always heard folks talk about killin’ two birds with one stone, but the sight o’ the two of you is just too sweet.”

The haunting click of his thumb pulling the hammer back on his shotgun bolted me from the laurels. I leapt on Twitch’s back as his gun fired. My unexpected blow knocked him forward, sending his shot ripping through the trees above us. Twitch swung his elbow around and drove it into my side, pummeling me onto the ground. I gasped for air as the stars above swirled. Colt’s shocked voice brought me to my senses. “Hannah!”

The protective glint I had so often seen in his eyes sparked alive. He and Marcus broke toward me, but before they hit their second stride, Twitch pulled a pistol from his belt and blasted it at them. Marcus moved to shield Colt, but the shot knocked them backward through the air and onto the ground. I screamed in horror, but within seconds, Twitch dropped over me with his knees straddling my waist. He locked his hands on my throat until my cries were choked within me.

“Now, I am gonna do to you what my wicked fantasies have been doin’ for years. You hear me, girl? Then when my lust is drained and vengeance delivered, I will drive my huntin’ knife through your darkylovin’ heart.”

Twitch chomped his mouth over mine. His slimy tongue pushed to separate my lips. I swung my arms, landing punches against his shoulders and face, but my strength was not enough. His long, rough fingers shackled my wrists in one of his hands. His triumphant cackle grew as he straightened up and started to unbuckle his belt with his other hand. His face bristled with hatred as my futile struggle against him fed his fury. Suddenly, a deafening shot rang out. Smoke puffed from Twitch’s vest. His fingers twisted my wrists, then eased. He looked down at me, his eye slowly glazing over until it stared sightless, matching the other, long dead. He fell forward into the dirt next to me. Behind him stood Winston, his rifle still smoking. He lowered his gun and looked at Twitch’s lifeless body. “Lawd help me, but I did de world a favor gettin’ rid o’ de likes o’ you.” Winston tossed the gun aside and rushed over to me. “You all right, Miz Hannah?”

Everything had happened so fast. I looked over at Marcus and Colt tangled in a motionless heap. I rolled over and frantically crawled in their direction.

“No, no, no!”

A bullet snapped against the ground near my hand. Excited voices called out from the far edge of the camp. “Did you hear them shots?” one voice shouted.

Another voice answered, “Someone is back yonder! I had ’em in my sights but missed. Load up quick!”

I was an arm’s length from where Marcus and Colt lay. I reached for a limp hand, but was yanked to my feet before we touched. Winston pulled me toward the woods. Bullets nipped at our heels, giving us no time for turning back.

“We can’t leave them, Winston!”

“Jes’ run faster,” he said, tightening his grip on my arm. “Or we is as good as dead.”

My feet obeyed and did not stop as shotgun blasts popped from every direction. Darkness was our cohort, and with its assistance, Winston and I slipped through the trees, safely away from the onslaught. My heart and soul, however, were stripped from me and left abandoned in the smoky encampment. When we arrived at the carriage, we found no one there, adding James to our fears and worries.

“We gots’ta do what Marcus tol’ us, Miz Hannah. He said we gots’ta go even if yo’ heart is beggin’ us to stay.”

My mind was a blur as Winston nudged the carriage into the waning night for our journey home to Promise Bridge. The sound of the wheels creaking into motion crushed my heart.

Midway through our second day, James burst from a poplar grove and ran toward us, waving his arms with relief. I hugged James, as did Winston, grateful for his escape.

“My path to de carriage got cut off by dem crazy paddy rollers when they doubled back to de camp. I didn’t know what to make of all de gunfire, so I laid low till they pulled together and rode off in a posse lookin’ for us by way of de road. They never thought to look up along the brow of the mountain, jes’ like Marcus figured.”

When Marcus’s name jumped from his lips, James halted his story. My tears rose but did not fall as I hugged James again. He glanced around, realizing there were only three of us. He looked at Winston with grave concern. I did not want to relive Winston’s account of our misfortune so I climbed inside the carriage. My misty eyes groped the receding southern horizon, holding on to hope. Perhaps Colt and Marcus would appear just as James had done, in accordance with our plan.

“De men came at us like swarmin’ hornets,” Winston said painfully. “We had no choice but run befo’ it was too late.”

James patted Winston on the shoulder. “Don’t hang yo’ head, ol’ man. You done what needed doin’. Mista Colt would be mighty grateful knowin’ you saved her from de hands of de devil.”