Sharon Poppen (6 page)

“Please, what did he look like?”

“He was tall, ‘bout my height. Black hair, long. Had it tethered back like a braid. Brown eyes and –

“A scar along the side of his face from his cheek to his jaw,” Hannah finished Frank’s sentence.

“Yes. You know him?” Liam asked.

Hannah stared into her coffee cup. “No.”

“No?” Liam’s tone rang of disbelief.

Hannah met Liam’s eyes. “No.”

She got up tossed the remnants of her coffee away and went to her bedroll. Once down, she glanced over at the bewildered brothers. “Good night. Best get some sleep, so we can get to San Antonio early on.” She turned on her side and waited for the dreaded memories to begin and to refocus on her revenge.

Hannah turned a deaf ear to the brothers as they doused the fire and slipped into their bedrolls. Her ever-changing plans began to surface for their nightly upgrades of additional pain and horror. But, tonight, an aroma broke into her ugly thoughts, a pleasant aroma. It drew her away from Drake and his men. Her muscles relaxed and she found herself snuggling into the cozy warmth of her bedroll. She sighed and was about to smile when the identity of the smell hit her. The plans, the pain, the horror came rushing back and this time it brought guilt.

Liam, oh dear God!
The aroma was Liam. Sharing a horse with him over the last few days, had embedded his scent into her clothes and now her senses.
This is wrong, so wrong.
Hannah sent a mental apology to Caleb for being distracted from her mission of revenge.
Drake. Drake. Drake.
The horrible name was repeated over and over. She was about to slip off to sleep, when she uttered it aloud. “Drake.”

It was almost a whisper. But across the fire, Liam sat up and called to her. “Hannah, you alright?”

She pretended sleep and in a few minutes, she heard him settle back down. His kindness seemed endless and she hated herself for not showing him her thanks more often or more graciously. She allowed that if things were different, she could …
No. Let it be, Hannah. You’ve a job to do.
She conjured up Drake’s evil face and went to sleep devising yet another plan.

Chapter 10

I’ll Remember For You

Hannah rode double, her arms circling Liam’s waist. For over an hour, she’d hoped to hear, “let’s rest the horses.” She could wait no longer.

“Mr. Canady, could...”

“What the hell?” Frank interrupted as he reined his horse.

Hannah peeked around Liam’s shoulder. They’d been following the Galveston, Harrisburg and San Antonio Railroad tracks and were still hours out of San Antonio. The open range was dotted with craggy juttings. For days they’d seen no other travelers, so a crowd standing alongside an idle train came as a shock. Even at a distance, the folks looked disoriented and unsure as they huddled in small groups.

Hannah’s bladder demanded attention. She slipped off the horse and headed for some boulders. Liam started to dismount.

“I need privacy, Mr. Canady.”

Liam nodded and turned back to observe the train. Hurrying through nature’s call, Hannah could hear the speculations about what the brothers were seeing.

“Why’s the train stopped?” Daniel verbalized everyone’s question.

“Look yonder. See that big boulder.” Frank pointed to an object on the tracks, just feet from the engine.

“Rock slide,” Liam shook his head. “Can’t imagine how the train stopped in time. Reckon we better mosey on over. See if they need help.”

Having taken care of her need, Hannah rejoined the brothers. Desperately wanting to move on, she said, “Ah, Mr. Canady, is that wise?”

“Wise?”

“Well, yes. First, it could be a robbery.”

“And, second?”

“If they need help, the sooner we get to San Antonio, the sooner we can send help.”

Liam reached out and helped Hannah back aboard his horse. “I doubt it’s a robbery and stopping to see if we can help won’t slow us down all that much.” He glanced at his brothers. “What’s your pleasure?”

His brothers spurred their horses toward the train. “Reckon we’ll see what we can do.” Daniel spoke for the two of them.

“Don’t fret, Hannah. You’ll be in San Antonio soon enough.”

The mocking tone of Liam’s voice was not lost on Hannah. She felt his body stiffen.

“For whatever you’re after,” he added and urged the horse forward.

As they tethered their horses to the caboose, the train conductor approached. His hand was extended in a friendly gesture, but his eyes registered suspicion.

“Howdy. What brings you here?”

“Happened to be riding by and saw the boulder. Thought ya might need some help.” Liam returned the handshake.

“Don’t think you can, but appreciate the offer. Afraid that rock is there for good.”

“Mind if we take a look?”

“Fact is, I’d appreciate it.”

The brothers walked to the engine and stood alongside the engineer and brakeman to assess the problem. Finally, Liam had to agree. “Yep, that rock isn’t going anywhere. Looks like you’re stuck for awhile.”

“If the dang thing had rolled just a little more, we’d a been all right.” The engineer spit tobacco. Three quarters of the boulder was off the track, but even a quarter was more than they could budge.

The brothers, the railroad men and a couple of passengers circled the boulder making suggestions and after some discussion, discarding them.

Hannah was antsy, but after three days with the brothers, she knew it was useless to try to rush them. She turned to the passengers milling about the dislodged baggage. Among the twenty or so folks were a nursing mother, several cowboys, couple of businessmen and two Indians with braided hair and sporting ill-fitting suits. Two cowboys stood off to the side smoking and gesturing toward the Canady horses. Hannah’s brows knit with concern, and then terror struck as she recognized a profile.

It was one of Drake’s men! Hannah spun around to fetch the brothers. She winced at the memory of those thick lips parting and the horrible yellow teeth gnawing at her throat and breasts. It wasn’t Drake, but it was a face from her nightmares.

“Liam,” she called.

Alerted by her use of his first name, Liam looked in her direction to see the men mount the Canady horses. “What the hell?”

The man Hannah had recognized reined Liam’s horse some distance from the brothers. “Wanna thank ya’ll for these horses. Now do us a favor and save some lives. Drop your weapons.”

His partner, on Frank’s mount and leading Daniel’s, held his gun inches from the nursing woman’s head. “That means everybody,” he added. He cocked the hammer on his revolver. The woman cringed, pulling her baby closer.

The brothers unbuckled their holsters and dropped them to the ground. Everyone followed suit.

“Right smart there.” The rapist flashed a grotesque smile. “We oughta kill ya’ll, but I reckon the sun,” he fired at a water vat mounted near the engine, “the thirst and the critters will do it for me.” He called to his partner. “Start the milk cow walkin’.” He turned to the brothers. “Ya’ll try to stop us and this here momma and baby’ll go first.”

After another grin, they rode off following the woman with the baby still at her breast. Looking over his shoulder, the man who had done all the talking kept watch on the stranded travelers.

The silent vigil filled everyone with fear-laced frustration. A gunshot brought a communal shudder and the young mother dropped to the ground. The Canady horses galloped out of rifle range. Retrieving their guns, most of the men raced to the woman, while the railroad men went to see if the bullet hole in their water supply could be plugged.

Liam lifted the woman and Frank picked up the infant. As they walked back, Liam paused in front of the railroad men. “We’ll need to bury her.”

Without a word, Frank handed the baby to Hannah. She looked at the crying infant wrapped in a thin pink blanket. It wouldn’t remember this day. It wouldn’t remember the face of the man who had killed her mother. Hannah looked out in the direction the killers had gone. Her trembling rage was doing nothing to calm the baby. She took some deep breaths and rocked her arms while cooing softly over and over again, “I’ll remember for you.”

Hannah cuddled the child as she watched the burial and the struggle to save the water. Looking south toward San Antonio, she whispered. “Beware, Drake. I remember.” She now had a third reason to live. And live she would, she vowed.

Chapter 11

The Baby

A satisfied yawn and moist, puckering lips, assured Hannah that the canned milk found in the baggage car had satisfied the baby. She shouldered it for its burp. Her days in the orphanage came to mind bringing thoughts of Sister Margaret. Hannah wished the good Sister was here now. The woman had a compassion for children that never failed to calm and instill a sense of goodness and hope in her charges. The nun had been Hannah’s idol and mentor for as far back as she could remember. She hoped some of her strength of character and goodness of heart had rubbed off. This baby would need it.

After a quick burp and a satisfied sigh, Hannah set the baby in the milk crate they’d converted into a crib. It snuggled into its pink blanket as Hannah caressed its cheek and wondered who’d tell this child how she came to be an orphan. Maybe someone would create a story and the child would never know the truth. Life brought on enough misery when adulthood arrived. Hannah thought that one’s childhood memories should be as pleasant as possible to sustain them when they faced the often ugly nature of man.

Yes, a happy story, like the one Sister Margaret told
. Hannah smiled down at the sleeping infant and thought about the nun’s story. She claimed that an angel left Hannah at the orphanage one Christmas Eve. The nuns and orphans had been draped in sorrow, no holiday spirit. An elderly nun had died that morning. After evening prayers, the nuns were serving cookies and milk when Sister Margaret heard a knock. Opening the front door, she found a small basket. Moving the coverlet, she found blue eyes smiling up at her. An abandoned child on their doorstep was not uncommon, but this was Christmas Eve and they’d just laid Sister Hannah to rest. They were convinced the new baby was an act of love. God was easing their loss. It was agreed that the infant be named Hannah and she’d share her birthday with Jesus. Even now, she didn’t care if it was true or not, Hannah loved the story and the special way it always made her feel.

She looked over at her fellow stranded travelers. They were huddled near the large boulder resting on the tracks. Liam seemed in charge. He had a presence that drew people to him.
Yes,
she thought,
Caleb had that presence.
It hurt to remember that without a backward glance, on her eighteenth birthday, she’d left with the young man who delivered milk to the orphanage. His dream was to go west and start a cattle ranch. Her eyes swept to the horizon, toward San Antonio, toward the men who’d destroyed that dream. Her smile faded as she walked over to listen to Liam and the others.

“Might work,” the conductor nodded.

“Might tear up my engine.” A spit of tobacco punctuated the engineer’s concern.

“Might,” agreed Liam. “But, if we don’t try, that engine won’t be any help when we’re dead of thirst.” He glanced around the circle of men. “Look, if we dig the trench and nudge the boulder along with the engine, it might roll off so we can use the track.”

The railroad men exchanged glances. Finally, the brakeman spoke up as he began to rub his hands together. “Let’s give it a try.”

Hannah watched the men tear into the littered baggage and railroad cars. Soon, using strips of wood, a couple of coal shovels, flat rocks and even shoes, they were digging a trench alongside the track and under the portion of the boulder not directly on the tracks. They worked into exhaustion and darkness set in.

Precious water from the damaged water vat was meted out and all foodstuffs were collected from the baggage car, passengers and railroad men. Their meager supper consisted of such varied items as taffy, home-canned zucchini, several apples, a few oranges and canned beans found in a shipping crate. Thankfully, there were also a couple of cans of milk for the baby.

Scattered among the seats in the passenger car, the men slept fitfully. Hannah frequently fed and diapered the baby to keep her quiet. Liam lounged in the seat across the aisle. Several times during the night, he offered help, but Hannah assured him the baby was fine and for him to sleep. Hannah was awake more than asleep and sensed Liam was too.

After a breakfast mirroring their supper, the digging continued. Finally, it was decided to fire up the engine. The engineer and brakeman climbed into the cab while everyone else stood alongside the tracks. Their silence was a prayer of hopeful reverence. The engine roared to life. Over the din of the motor, the engineer spit tobacco and gave a thumbs up. The engine inched forward until it was halted by the weight it faced. The engine roar grew to a whine with increased throttle pressure. Hannah covered her ears to the shrill struggle. Liam kicked at the earth. Over the roar of the laboring engine, Hannah heard him curse.

“Move, damn you. Move!”

Then, along with the deafening roar, came a scraping sound and the engine moved. So slow, it was almost unnoticeable, but the boulder moved. It began to wobble and lean toward the trench.