Swept Away (26 page)

“Children, get in the cellar. Now!” Glynna hadn’t a second more to try and figure out what was going on.

Paul came from the kitchen, hustling Janet along in front of him. He swung open the closet door, then moved to lift the small trapdoor that led to the cellar. “Get down there, fast.”

Janet scrambled down so fast she almost slid.

“Go, Paul.”

“No, Ma. You go next.”

There was no time to debate him, so Glynna nodded and went down the ladder.

After closing the closet door, Paul clambered down into the cellar after her, pausing to pull the trapdoor firmly shut. Glynna heard the slide of a bolt on the door and then Paul was on the floor beside her. Only at that moment did she realize what dark really was.

“Silence, children. Absolute silence.”

The back door slammed open.

“Glynna, get in here!” Flint’s voice was thick with wrath. She’d heard this tone before, always followed by his heavy fists. Flint cursed her, and Glynna wanted to pull her children close and cover their ears. A child shouldn’t hear such filth.

“Where are you, woman?” Flint stomped through the main floor, crashing open doors, shouting her name. The children’s names. Roaring. Threatening. Swearing.

The search went on and on. Flint thundered up the stairs, his rage building, his threats more brutal and ugly with each passing minute. If he found her now, she knew with certainty she wouldn’t survive.

He came tearing back down the steps, stomping around, opening and closing doors again. Then he came to the closet that sheltered them and wrenched that door open.

“Glynna Greer, you get yourself out here or you’ll be sorry.”

Had he found her? Had his earlier rage just been for the pleasure he took in cruelty? She had no guarantee that he didn’t know about the cellar. He’d never mentioned it to her, and it was made in such a cunning way that she’d hoped he’d never noticed it. But how could she be sure until this moment—this life-and-death moment?

Her hiding place felt like a coffin and she was buried alive.

She stood there, hiding underground like a frightened rabbit. And she hated it. How had her life brought her this low?

She felt dizzy. For a moment she thought she might collapse, and that noise would be all it took to bring Flint
through the trapdoor and into the cellar, pull them all out, and have them at his mercy.

God, please protect us. And please help me find a life that is pleasing to you, where my children will be safe. Please . . .

That’s when she realized she wasn’t breathing. Slowly, silently, she pulled breath into her lungs and her head cleared.

More seconds ticked past as she carefully drew in each silent breath.

At last the closet door overhead slammed shut, and Flint’s heavy feet thudded toward the kitchen.

Realizing how still her children were, she whispered, “Breathe.”

She heard them both inhale and knew that, just like her, they’d been frozen with fear.

Flint continued to bang around upstairs. He searched the entire house a second time, still shouting, his fury growing. Things began to crash, glass shattered, wood broke, heavy objects banged against the walls and floors as if Flint, unable to harm her, had decided to destroy the house instead.

The back door opened, then slammed with such violence she wondered that the door didn’t break as she heard him storm down the few back steps, yelling for his men.

Glynna pulled her children tight against her and then began what was probably the hardest part of their plan. They waited.

Ruthy pushed hard for her lookout post, wanting as much of this journey done before sunrise as possible. It was a winding trail most likely made by deer, and even pushing hard it was slow going.

As the dawn turned to daylight, she neared a spot where
she had to cross the well-worn road from Luke’s ranch to Broken Wheel. Luke had studied a few crossings and picked this spot. It was closer to the ranch than he liked, but the sentries could see down this road for a long way. Right here trees stretched all the way overhead for just a few yards. She could cross unseen.

She got to the edge of the road and stopped to listen for riders coming or going. Ruthy heard only the breeze stirring the trees and an occasional blackbird cawing overhead.

Not that many riders came and went here. She was likely safe, but caution made sense, so she used it.

Planning to move fast, she stepped onto the trail and felt herself yanked back. Twisting, expecting to see Bullard or Greer, she saw a bough snagged on her pack. She tugged against it, but it was a twisted juniper branch, shoved through a strap on her pack as if it had reached out and grabbed her. She tugged harder and got slapped by the bobbing branch.

Then galloping hooves pounded on the road. They were coming from Luke’s ranch. Where she stood at the edge of the trail, she was clearly visible. She pulled out her razor-sharp knife to cut the branch free.

The road curved sharply a few yards down. The rider should be rounding that curve any moment.

There was no way to get out of sight as long as the branch was hooked. She slashed at the branch. It was tough and green, and didn’t give on the first try. Cutting again and again, the rider raced toward her at breakneck speed.

Ruthy cut at the branch and finally it snapped. She ran for the nearest boulder, dodged behind it, and looked back at the road. She saw the branch she’d just hacked off lying on the road, its cuts unmistakably fresh. There was no time to go back.

She drew her gun and crouched low to see if the rider would go on or notice the branch and stop to investigate. The galloping horse was suddenly upon her.

The rider, bent low over his horse’s neck, didn’t see the branch.

Simon Bullard, his face a mask of killing rage.

He was supposed to be gone, locked up. Ruthy knew something terrible had happened to Big John Conroy if Bullard was back and John wasn’t.

Her stomach twisted to think of Bullard riding for town, furious. He probably knew Dare had been in on Big John’s capture of him. That meant the gunman was riding straight for Dare and Luke, and they weren’t expecting him.

Ruthy’s first thought was to run for town and warn Luke and his Regulator friends.

She stopped.

She couldn’t beat Bullard to Broken Wheel. And Luke might not be ready for Bullard, but he was ready for trouble. Luke and his friends had their job and she had hers. Luke had trusted her to take care of Glynna Greer and her children. Ruthy would shower prayers over Luke and leave him to handle Bullard.

Sick to think her brand-new husband might not survive this mess, Ruthy walked back to that blasted road. Casting the branch out of sight, she hurried on.

If Bullard was upsetting things at the ranch, then Greer might change his usual routine and head back for the house early. Ruthy rushed for her lookout, determined to do her part to make this day come out right.

Luke was so sick of waiting he wanted to smash something.

He heard the door shut on Dare’s patient. He was listening close enough that he heard the front door lock. Racing downstairs, Luke was tempted to start kicking things, especially when he knew Ruthy was out on the trail, possibly in danger, getting ready to risk her neck saving the wife of the man who’d killed his pa.

He entered the kitchen just as Dare poured a cup of coffee and held it out to him.

“I have to hide all day while we wait for Greer?” Luke took a tin cup and clutched it until he’d likely have crushed it if the tin hadn’t been tough enough. “I’m tired of it.”

“I remember that about you, Luke. You always did like to face trouble straight on. Well, something tells me that today you’ll get your chance.” Dare got his own cup and took a sip when it still had to be almost boiling hot. Every move Dare made spoke of tension, worry for Ruthy and for Glynna Greer.

“We’re going to get that woman out, Dare. We’ve set things in motion.” He’d set Ruthy in motion while he hid. His wife, out on that trail, maybe overnight.

“Did I tell you I went out once, not so long ago, and treated Glynna for a sprained ankle?” Dare slammed his cup down on the counter.

“You said you were there before this last time. I don’t recall you listing her injuries.” Luke took a sip and wondered about Ruthy. What if Ruthy walked in on Greer somehow? “You reckon she was hurt by Greer that time too, don’t you?”

Dare took a long drink, staring forward as if he were back tending Mrs. Greer. “She was so rude. Tried to throw
me out. Said she wouldn’t pay. Didn’t want me touching her leg. I thought she was the snootiest thing I’d ever seen, and I was fuming by the time I got her ankle wrapped. I could tell by the way she moved she’d probably hurt her ribs, too. Now, thinking back, I know I saw an old bruise on her face. I should’ve dragged her out of there.”

“And got shot by Greer’s guards.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t see it. I left her there to take another beating.” Dare ran a hand through his hair. “I’m done, Luke.”

“Done with what?”

“Done being a doctor.” Dare turned furious eyes on Luke. “I figured I learned enough in Andersonville. I thought I was so much smarter than all the doctors who studied, spent time in school. I actually took
pride
in just learning from another doctor, then heading west to claim I was trained. No one questioned me. No one had any doubts. They came and they trusted their lives to me.”

“You’ve done good for people, Dare. And I think most of doctorin’ school is just working alongside another doctor. If you’re bent on doing it right, go back East. Find a school that teaches medicine.”

“Find a school that teaches a proud fool what a woman looks like and acts like when she’s been knocked around? You think they have a school for that?”

“Well, if they don’t, then you’ve got as much training as any doctor in such a thing. You could probably teach others about it.”

“I’ve got no right calling myself a doctor. I’m a liar and a fraud. I’m ashamed of myself.” Dare picked up his coffee and stared into the cup. “And I handled Lana Bullard all wrong.”

“There’s no right way to handle a madwoman. Maybe what you need is just to avoid women altogether. Glynna Greer will go back East. Lana Bullard will go on her way soon. And I’m not lettin’ you touch Ruthy. So what you need to do is find a place with no women to treat, and as of tomorrow, that’ll be Broken Wheel. You’ll be fine here treating only men. It’s women that are causing you trouble.”

“Don’t you want a doctor around for any babies you and Ruthy have?” Dare poured himself more coffee.

The thought of having a baby or two with his wife was so appealing, Luke forgot what they were talking about. Dare slapped him on the back. “Well, don’t you?”

“Don’t I what?”

Dare rolled his eyes. “Don’t you think this town needs a real doctor to treat your wife and children?”

With a shrug, Luke said, “Sure, I reckon. If we can find one, he can come to Broken Wheel and set up a second doctor’s office. And when that happens, you can quit. Until then, you need to face the fact that you’re better’n nuthin’. And nuthin’ is what Glynna Greer would’ve had without you, and nuthin’ would be what Lana Bullard would’ve had without you. And I suppose some doctors are worse than nuthin’, but not you. So just calm down and settle in. I want you here in Broken Wheel. I’m hoping Vince and Jonas stay, too. Maybe Big John’ll give up being a Ranger and come be the lawman in town. We’re gonna need a sheriff. I like having my friends nearby.”

“I’ve made up my mind. I’m done. I’m going to—”

A horse charging toward Dare’s door had them both moving fast. Luke ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs to hide. Again.

Dare hurried toward the door.

Someone twisted the locked doorknob violently, then the side of a fist slammed into the door until it threatened to smash open. “Get out here, Riker! I’m gonna see you dead.”

Luke recognized Bullard’s voice. What was Bullard doing in town? Where was Big John?

Luke jerked his six-gun from its holster as he turned back. He swung open the revolver with a sharp click, checked the load, snapped it shut, and headed down the stairs.

The time to hide was over.