Sentinels (24 page)

Chapter Thirty-Four

“Sarah, stop!”

Noah shouted as loud as he could without—he hoped—revealing their positions in the corn. He'd lost sight of her, seeing only the swaying stalks where she whooshed through. He listened and was pleased when the sounds of rapid footfalls ceased. She emerged before him, clutching Isaac, whose screaming had abated.

“He don't know what to make of all this.” She looked and sounded stunned, and held the baby toward Noah, who noted the child's wide-eyed glances.

Even though the immense stalks sprouted a foot over Noah's head, effectively concealing him, he motioned for her to crouch, figuring the less speaking, the better, and crept next to her. He waited for them to catch their breaths and closed his eyes to listen. Sarah, equally spent, saw him and did likewise.

“I don't hear anyone,” she whispered through her panting.

“Agreed.”

“Now what?”

“We gotta get to my house—my family's there.”

“I think they're more concerned 'bout me and him.” She looked at Isaac.

They tried keeping their responses quick. Sarah, for fear that Isaac might get twitchy, opened her blouse and fed him one of her breasts.

“I don't care if this makes you uncomfortable.”

“No, it's smart—do it.”

Noah deliberately looked everywhere but at Sarah.

“We can't go back to the road,” he said. “They'll be on it. But I figure we can cut through the fields and into the forest. My house ain't too far from here if we do it that way. Maybe twenty or twenty-five minutes, if we hurry.”

“They ain't dumb, Noah. They'll be waiting for us.”

“Some of them are plenty dumb, but you're right.” Noah spoke to a woman who'd just lost her husband, but she strangely didn't act like it. She hadn't once made reference to him. Noah thought her cheeks would be streaked with tearstains but they appeared unblemished.

“I'm so sorry for what they did to Toby.”

She said nothing and kept nursing.

“If I could've stopped them I would've,” Noah said. “One of those guys kept lingering around the back, and I couldn't move until he went up front. By the time he did I was on my way to the window and heard the first shot.”

“You got nothing to apologize for,” she said. “You saved my life and my baby's. I owe
you
.”

“You owe me nothing, and you and him aren't completely safe—not yet. I'm trying to figure a good place to stash you.”

Their breathing settled to normal and both felt confident nobody was anywhere near them.

“I got an idea,” Noah said. “We get to my house, get Nat and my boy—shit, we're having company tonight, I forgot.”

Noah gritted his teeth and stood.

“All right, we aren't expecting but two other people. One of them's a sheriff's deputy.”

“How do we know he ain't in on this too?” Sarah rose, switching Isaac to her other breast.

“I can't believe Harrison would be someone's lackey like that.”

“Could you believe that about Clement? And the others?”

“Clement? Based on a recent conversation I had with him, yeah, I can believe it now,” he said. “But, honestly, I always felt there was something off about him. And I hardly had time around those others. Harrison's the one I know the most about. He ain't dirty. He ain't.”

“I suppose we'll find out, and soon. I'm not trusting any of those men until they can prove otherwise.”

“Fair enough. Now, after we get to my place, I'm hoping we have enough horses to get us all to town. Whatever the case, I think I can take you to the undertaker's. He's got an ice house.”

She eyed him with a
Really?
expression.

“You want our babies to freeze?”

“Dammit, you're right. I'll worry about all that after we get to my home. I'm open to your ideas too. Let's get.”

This time Noah took the lead in the cornfield. He removed his hat and leapt to see where the fir treetops stood in the distance. And that's the direction they fled with a growing urgency neither had ever experienced in their lives.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Natalie Chandler, brimming with smiles, opened the front door and consumed Doreen Culliver in a bear hug. She moved so quickly she did not notice the concern in her guest's eyes.

“I cannot thank you enough for sticking your neck out for my husband.” Natalie stepped back and wiped away an unexpected tear. “You saved him; I don't doubt that they would've killed him.”

Doreen straightened out the newly formed wrinkles in her church-going dress.

“Good Lord, if
you're
that strong, don't be surprised if your baby eats a coal and shits a diamond. And you're welcome.”

Natalie invited in her guest, asking her to sit, but Doreen refused.

“First, I got pies for each month of the year in my wagon,” she said. “Second, I want you to sit down while
I
help prepare things. You've been through quite an ordeal yourself and must still be sore down there.”

Natalie chuckled nervously at the frankness. “I can at least help you bring in whatever you brought.”

“Well, I don't think you'll bust stitches lifting apple pies, so come on out.”

Nat thought Doreen exaggerated but was proved wrong when she lowered her bed's gate.

“Two pies for each Chandler and that deputy feller. I told you I had a lot.”

“And potatoes.”

“Yeah, I told your husband I had them out the damn wazoo. Hope you don't mind. Mashed taters go good with turkey. Speaking of which, where's the bird?”

“Roasting on a spit out back. I check on it every so often. It's looking good, juicy.”

Doreen lugged the sack of potatoes while Natalie toted pies. Only once everything was unloaded on the family's kitchen table did Doreen address what bugged her.

“Noah back yet?”

“Not just. I thought he'd be. I mean, it's approaching four.”

“Thought not. Is there any reason why he would park his father's wagon off the road about one hundred yards from your property?”

“What are you talking about?” Natalie didn't express concern as much as genuine confusion.

“When I was riding my rig over here I saw what I'm pretty sure is his father's wagon. I met his pa the other night at the Doc's. The horses look familiar. They was munching on grass next to the tree they was tied to—probably about fifty feet away from the road itself, and parked a good distance from here. Was your husband getting corn?”

“That's what he said.”

“Then I'm even more certain it's his on account of there being crates of corn in the bed.”

Natalie grasped for a cogent thought.

“Maybe he had an accident?”

“Rig looked fine to me, so did the horses and wheels.”

“Look, nature probably called, that's all. He had to pee.”

“Then he must be pissin' out Lake Erie, otherwise, what's taking him so long?”

“Maybe he's doing … ” Natalie let it linger and raised her eyebrows, giving Doreen a look of
you get what I'm saying?

“Have you ever taken a shit in the woods before?” Doreen said.

Natalie, startled, stiffened a bit. “Well,
no
.”

“Neither have I. Know why? Cause it's uncomfortable. Was your husband ill this morning?”

“He wasn't.”

“You mean to tell me he had to go that bad that he couldn't clench his cheeks another few minutes longer until getting here? It's not that far.”

“I see what you mean.” Natalie walked outside, waiting for her husband to hopefully turn into the property to quell her growing discomfort. Seeing nothing but Doreen's carriage and horse, tied to a post by the porch and chomping hay in the feed bag she'd slipped over his head, Natalie went inside and closed the door.

“I think I might just go wake up Jake—he's sleeping upstairs and I want you to meet him,” Natalie said. “And if you don't mind, could you take us to where you saw the wagon?”

“I don't mind that at all, but I hate for you to wake a sleeping baby.”

“I can't leave him.”

“I don't want you to. Go fetch him. I'll untie Rigby.”

Doreen walked outside as Natalie ascended the staircase. She placed her hand on the knob to Jake's closed nursery door but let go to take one more look outside, this time an elevated peek at the grassland and trees that clogged the area in between the house and where Doreen saw the abandoned wagon. And she saw movement in the brush.

Natalie walked downstairs and called outside.

“Doreen, I need your help in here for a second, if you please.”

Not thinking anything of it, Doreen again lashed Rigby to the post.

“What can I do for you?” she said as she walked inside, but did not see Natalie.

“Step in and calmly close the door.” Natalie's voice came from the back of the room, but Doreen couldn't figure where.

“O-
kay
.” Doreen did as requested.

“I'm in the stairwell. They can't see me.”

“
Who
can't see you?”

“Two men, outside—don't look. I'm guessing they're men. Whoever it is, they're sneaking up on us.”

“And why would they be doing this?” Doreen kept her back pressed to the door.

“Beats me, but Noah not being here, his wagon where you said it was,” Natalie trailed off before saying, “Stay away from the windows. Don't tip 'em off.”

“Where's your baby?”

“Still upstairs.”

Doreen looked around the house and gripped the leather strap of the bulky tan satchel she wore over her shoulder like a purse. “Go get him.”

“And go
where
?”

“Natalie, you don't know me from one of them whores that works in town—but I need you to trust me. Most importantly, do
not
wake the baby.”

Delbert Johnson, flat on his belly, scuttled to the perimeter where tall brush gave way to the Chandler property line.

“I go in the front, you in the back,” Johnson said to Sam, who kept pace by his side. Both men kept six-shooters holstered on their right hips. “I hope you don't have any problems shooting a woman.”

“For what that Diggs guy is paying, I don't,” Sam said. “But why we gotta go shooting them right away if Chandler ain't here?”

Johnson stopped mid-crawl.

“What are you saying?”

“I mean, let's face it, that young lady who's visiting looks mighty pretty to me, if you know what I mean.”

“You sick bastard.”

“Sick? Nossir,” Sam said. “No sense in wasting our time sitting around and waiting for Chandler and the woman to show. Why not entertain ourselves? Look, I'll keep watch in case they pop up. You do the same for me when it's my turn.”

“That girl
is
kinda cute.”

“Looks tough to me, like she's got a little fight in her. We could tie her up, gag her. I like that.”

“All right, listen.” Johnson thought it through another few seconds. “We tie up Chandler's wife and kid.”

Sam did a double-take. “I ain't screwing no baby.”

“
No
, moron. I mean if Chandler figures out we're in here and hunkers down in the woods to take shots at us, we can use his wife and kid to get him to surrender.”

“
Oh.
”

“As for that tasty peach that walked in? I ain't got no problem screwing and shooting her. Can't have witnesses, after all,” Johnson said. “You ready?”

“More than you know.” Sam sprinted around the back while Johnson charged the front porch and kicked open the door, pointing his drawn gun at emptiness.

The interior wasn't separated by walls, but stood open, supported by beams. The sofa, kitchen table covered with food, the stove, all were in view.

“Coming in. Don't shoot.” Sam appeared through a back room that led sideways into the kitchen.

Both men, standing directly opposite each other, eyed the staircase.

“Ladies,” Johnson began. “We know you're in here. We've been watching you for a while. We ain't here to kill you.” He nodded at Sam.

“We ain't,” Sam said.

“I know you have a baby in here and we don't want to start shooting.” Johnson looked above the fireplace and saw the empty rack. “But we
will
, especially seeing that we know you're armed.”

Nobody responded.

“All right then,” Johnson said. “The more we have to look for you the angrier we'll be. Come on out.”

Nothing.

The men looked around the small house for any place that could hide a body. Johnson fixated on a steamer trunk placed against back wall running perpendicular to the sofa. A yarn blanket had been draped over it for decorative purposes, but Johnson figured the trunk was there because there was no place else to put it.

Sam eyed the staircase by the fireplace and also spotted the ladder leading to the loft, from which a brisk shuffling sound filtered down. Sam cocked his gun.

Johnson turned and approached.

Sam mouthed:
I'll go up.

Johnson nodded, revolver at the ready in case he needed to follow.

The wooden ladder consisted of eight rungs and Sam easily climbed them. And there, on the bed, sat a shaking Natalie Chandler, cradling a swaddled bundle for dear life to her chest.

“Where's your friend?”

“Don't hurt my baby.” Her lower jaw trembled.

“I won't if you tell me where the other lady's at.”

Sam approached, causing Natalie to recoil.

“Now let's not go waking the baby, miss,” Sam said. “Tell you what, why don't you hand it over to me and you can climb down the ladder?”

“You ain't touching my baby.”

“Fine. But we seem to have hit an impasse.” Sam stealthily dropped to the floor and looked under the bed, seeing nobody hiding there. This, too, caused Natalie to scoot farther back on the bed. Sam sprung up just as quickly as he fell.

“As I was saying.” He scanned the room for any nook or cranny that might obscure a body. “I can't allow you to sit up here while my partner's all alone downstairs. So you're gonna need to come with me.”

“Who
are
you?” Her voice quivered. “What do you want with us?”

“Knowing either ain't gonna do you a bit of good. But getting your pretty ass downstairs will. Or would you prefer that I
take
your baby to provide some incentive?”

“You ain't touching my baby.”

“I don't really want to. But can you get downstairs while holding it?”

“I've done it many times,” Natalie said. “Back up, give me room.”

“No funny business.” Sam displayed the weapon.

“Not with him in my arms,” she said.

“Delbert!” Sam said. “Chandler's wife and baby're coming down!”

She deftly descended using her free hand and stood in front of the fireplace, glancing back and forth from Sam, who followed her down, to Johnson, who stood by the staircase, periodically glancing up the steps.

“I ain't fucking around, lady,” Johnson said. “I know that other bitch has the long gun. She better show herself and quick.”

“Or what?” Natalie kept track of Sam's gun, which he still pointed in her direction, but not square on her body.

“Listen to her, Del,” Sam chuckled. “This one's frisky.”

“She left through the baby's upstairs window,” Natalie stammered. “She's probably halfway to town right now.”

“Funny,” Johnson said. “I didn't hear any horses running away. I didn't hear any
people
running away. Did you, Sam?”

“Nossir, I didn't.”

“That tells me you're lying,” Johnson said. He, too, aimed his gun at her, but eased it toward the staircase as he placed a foot on the bottom step.

“You got eyes everywhere, huh?” Natalie said. “We got 'em too. She snuck out just as you boys were kicking in my doors. That's why you didn't hear her on the roof. It ain't that far of a drop.”

Johnson took it in—she made some sense. It was possible.

“All right, even if you ain't shitting us, I know I didn't hear no horses.”

She said nothing.

“Watch her, Sam. I'll go up this time.”

The stairs creaked under Johnson's footsteps. Nat concentrated on Sam. She heard Johnson fiddling with the nursery's doorknob—at the same time Sam heard a soft thump coming from the steamer trunk. And he grinned.

“Thought so,” he said to her. “Looks like you delayed the inevitable of us finding her. But I do appreciate you and the youngster sitting out in the open for me. Makes the job easier.”

He looked at the trunk and back to Natalie.

“I want you to walk slowly to the other side of the trunk where I can keep an eye on you. Do it now.” He motioned the gun toward the trunk and she begrudgingly obliged.

“Step back a few feet, don't crowd me,” Sam said.

The huge trunk's two front latches dangled down, and that proved to Sam the woman was scrunched inside. He stooped and slid his fingers under the corner of the lid and held his gun at the ready, quickly flipping up the lid to discover a wide-eyed, cooing baby named Jake.

“The hell?” Sam, confused, stood straight up, and, distracted, pointed the gun away from the defenseless child.

“You ain't touching my baby.”

The last thing Sam saw when he looked at Natalie was the area of the blanketed bundle supposedly comforting the crown of the baby's head—only the crown exploded in tatters and a bullet flew through Sam's forehead and out of the back of his skull. The dead man crashed against the wall behind him, his head cracking wood, leaving a trail of brains as his body slid to the ground. Using her free left arm, Natalie unwound the bundle of blankets to reveal the Remington revolver Doreen kept handy in her satchel.