The Cogan Legend (18 page)

Lewey sat suddenly.  His legs refused to cooperate.  “I need help, Phillip. We've got to help Ann.”

Phillip put his bloody hands in the snow and worked to get his knees under his body.  At last he was able to stand unsteadily. He tugged at Lewey's arm, and the older man grunted and stood.

Phillip put his arm around Lewey's neck to steady himself and with blood still trickling from his wound, he asked, “Is Ann alright?”

“She doesn't appear to be wounded, but she's not herself.  I think she's in shock, we must try and help her.”

“Whose blood is this, Lewey?”  Phillip asked as they stumbled toward the coach. “There's blood everywhere.”  

“I don't know,” Lewey quickly responded.

When they approached the coach, Phillip heard sobbing.  He looked in the door and saw Ann holding Rachel in her arms.  Tears streamed down her battered face.  Anger squeezed Phillip as tight as any blacksmith's vice as he looked at Ann's torn clothes and battered body. Had she been beaten
and
raped?  He put his hands on the sides of the doorway and levered himself painfully into the coach.  The coach tilted, and Phillip nearly lost his balance, but Lewey put a steadying hand on him and pushed him forward.  He fell to his knees and crawled toward Ann.

Ann refused to let go of Rachel's body, so Phillip reached around both of them to hug Ann.  His voice was choked and dry.  “Ann, can you tell me what happened?”

“Go away.  Please leave me alone.”  

He put his hand on her chin and turned her head toward his and looked directly into her eyes.  Ann pulled back and turned her head.  Sorrow clouded her blue eyes.

Phillip understood.  He backed away.  Anger gave him strength enough to jump from the coach to the ground, pink with blood.  In the snow, he saw the blood trail.  He took a cloth from his saddlebag and tied it around his head to protect the wound and apply pressure to stop the bleeding.  He struggled onto his horse and took off at a gallop.  The trail was easy to follow.  As he rounded a bend and climbed out of the hollow, he could see flames and smoke.  Both the stable and house were engulfed by the time he arrived and he had to turn away.  Phillip rode his horse in a wide circle around the burning buildings but could not find a trail. Whoever had attacked the coach had vanished into the Cogan.  Worried about Ann, and fearful that the attackers might have doubled back when he left, he turned and rode back to the coach.

When he got back, Ann still refused to let Rachel go.  

Lewey stopped pacing and looked up at Phillip's return.  He helped Phillip off  his horse and asked, “What are we going to do?  Mr. Fairchild trusted me with Rachel's life.  How am I going to explain this to him?”  

“All we can do is to tell him the truth.”

“Do you think Ann will be okay?”  Lewey glanced through the open door.  “It seems like she's in a trance.  She doesn't respond to either one of us.”  

“I don't know.  She just lost her best friend.   All I know is that we have to get out of here now.  We can't wait for them to come back and ambush us again.”

Phillip tied his horse to the coach and climbed in.  He pulled the door shut and latched it.  He found a blanket on the bench without much blood on it and stepped over Rachel to put it around Ann's shoulders.  He kissed her forehead and said, “We're going to get moving again, Ann.”

Moving back to sit on the bench, he stepped on a hard object.  It was a knife with a wooden handle and a long, iron blade.  The blade was covered in blood.  Positive that it was the murder weapon, Phillip retrieved it and placed it in his saddlebag for evidence.  

The ride back was made in silence except for periods of time when Ann wept aloud. She said nothing and refused to let go of Rachel's body even as rigor mortis set in.  The sobs were unnerving to Phillip because they happened at random and seemed to issue forth from the cadaver itself.

Lewey called down to Phillip alerting him they were a mile from the lodge.  Ann, red-eyed and pale, appeared catatonic as the coach drew to a stop outside the front doors where Charles and Mary stood waiting.

Charles' expression of joy turned to confusion and worry as he saw the bruises on Lewey's face.  “Lewey!”  he gasped, stumbling off the porch to get closer to the coach.  “What happened to you?”

Lewey shook his head. “I'm sorry, Charles.  I'm so sorry.”

Alarmed, Charles grabbed the coach door and almost fell as the door swung open and hung on its one surviving hinge.

Thrust off balance by the awkward door angle, Charles stumbled backwards.  He heard Mary gasp and looked up.  Phillip, bloody and battered, head swathed in torn strips of cloth, gazed down at him.  .

“Good God, man!  What in the name of all that is holy happened?”

“She's dead, sir.  Rachel's dead,” Phillip said.  He thrust his hand out, and Charles grasped it and pulled himself into the coach.  Charles slipped in the blood and went to one knee, but recovered as Phillip held him steady.

Charles regarded him with a look and then turned toward his daughter. “Ann!”

“Father!”  Ann released Rachel's body and pulled the sodden blanket around herself as she rose unsteadily to her feet.

The brief glimpse of Ann's torn and blood-soaked clothing paralyzed Charles for a brief moment.  Then he grabbed her and pulled her into his embrace.

“Charles, help Ann down, and I'll take her inside.  It's too cold to stand out here,” Mary said from the open doorway.

With great tenderness, Charles helped Ann out of the coach and into Mary's arms.  “Oh, my.  You poor child,” were the only words Mary could muster as she put her arm around Ann and helped her into the lodge.

Charles saw them to the door before returning to the coach where Phillip was seated on the bench staring down at Rachel's body.

Charles ignored Phillip's offer of help as he climbed into the coach.  He knelt beside the body of the beautiful young lady he had grown to know and love.  He placed his hand on her cheek and cried.

After he regained his composure, Charles turned to Phillip.  “I'm Charles Fairchild.”

“Lieutenant Phillip Matter, sir.”

Charles lifted his hands in disgust and demanded, “What happened?  I let two men, and one a soldier, accompany my daughter and her friend and this is how they return.  This is a tragedy beyond belief.”

Charles leaned out of the coach.  “Lewey!  What the hell happened?”

“With all due respect, sir, none of us saw this coming,” Phillip quickly interjected.

Charles raised his arm and hand to quiet Phillip.  “What happened, Lewey?” Charles asked again.

Lewey climbed down and came to stand in front of the open door.  “We were ambushed.  A shot rang out; I stopped the coach and looked back.  That is when I saw the Lieutenant fall from his horse.  Before I could react, someone jumped on top of the coach, kicked me in the head and knocked me to the ground.  That's all I remember.  I don't know who, and I don't know how many.  When I came to and looked in the coach, Rachel was dead, and Ann's clothing had been torn.”  He lowered his head.

“So they were raped, and Rachel murdered,” Charles said as the veins in his neck popped out in rage.  Then he took a sudden deep breath. “Go on.”

“When I crawled in I saw Rachel's coat saturated in blood...” Lewey broke into tears.  “Ann cried as she held Rachel.   I covered them as best as I could then I went to check on the Lieutenant.  He showed no sign of life as I approached.  I thought he was dead.  I looked down and saw vapor from his nose and knew he was alive.  I wiped his wound with my sleeve and saw that the shot only grazed his forehead.  I put snow on his face and shook his head.  He finally came around, and I helped him to the coach.  Then Phillip climbed in and tried to get Ann to respond but she wouldn't.  She just held Rachel as tight as she could.”

“Let me continue, Mr. Fairchild,” Phillip interrupted.

Charles turned and looked at him. “Go on then.”

“He took us by surprise. I woke up face down in the snow and heard Ann and Rachel screaming.  I got up and somehow made it to the coach door. There was a man inside, and I grabbed his coat and tried to drag him out the door, but he turned and kicked me in the chest. The next thing I knew, Lewey was standing over me rubbing snow on my face.”

Charles frowned angrily.

“He hit the tree beside the road,” Lewey said, hurrying to Phillip's defense.  “Knocked him out cold.”

Phillip stepped forward. “When I woke up, I went back to the coach, but I couldn't get Ann to respond.  She was in shock.” He hung his head. “Rachel was dead.” Fury emboldened him to look Charles in the eye.  “When I turned back to the road, I saw a blood trail leading away, so I got on my horse and followed it.”

“Tell me you killed those bastards!” Charles bellowed with fists clenched.

Phillip ignored the older man's outburst. He wished he'd found them and dragged them to the closest tree.  He shook his head. “The trail led me back to the stable run by those two men.  It was already in flames. They must have set fire to it.”

“What on earth for?” Charles demanded.

Phillip shrugged helplessly. “I don't know.” He paused, thinking. “The snow all around the stable was melted, and I couldn't find their tracks.  Everything had turned to mud.  I got worried that they'd circled back around to the coach and went back.”

“We'll find them and hang them!” Charles fumed.  “I want my chunk of their flesh before we hang them!”

“I'll find them, sir.  I swear, if it's the last thing I do, I'll bring them to justice,” Phillip vowed.

“You know who they are for sure?”

“Yes, sir.  We saw them a couple of times in the city.  The taller man deliberately accosted Ann and Rachel twice.”

Charles suddenly seemed to age a hundred years.  He stumbled to the porch and sat heavily on a step.  “This is my fault, it's allmy fault.  I never should have agreed to let them go. Never!  But I just couldn't say no.  I knew there was danger out there.  I knew it, but I still said yes.”

“It's my fault, sir.”  Phillip said standing in front of Charles.  “I was the escort, and I let them down, Mr. Fairchild.”

Charles looked up.  Anger mottled his face and narrowed his eyes. “Don't patronize me.”

Phillip backed away and went to find Lewey who, ignoring his pain, was tending to the horses.

Inside, Mary helped Ann.  It was only after she pulled off Ann's dress that she recognized the extent of the girl's injuries and the brutal attack Ann must have endured.  She gently washed Ann's face and body to remove all of the blood.   

“Oh, Mary,” were the only words Ann spoke as she grimaced in pain.

Ever so gently, Mary put a nightgown over Ann's limp body and led her through the door.

Charles sat on the sofa and waited for his daughter.  He motioned for her to sit next to him when she entered, “Come sit with me, Ann.”  He put his arm around her and pulled her close.  As they sat in silence, he wondered what damage the attack had wrought on her emotions.

Outside Phillip re-bandaged his wound with a handkerchief he'd retrieved from his coat.  Lewey's eye was still swollen and blind.  Phillip guided the coach around to the back of the lodge to the outside entrance of the bath area.  When it came time to remove Rachel's body from the coach, Lewey hesitated.

“Lewey, what's wrong?” Phillip asked.

“I can't go in there.  I can't do this, I can't help you.  You need to get Mary…Mrs. Lentz.”

“I understand.” Phillip patted him on the back.  “I'll get her.”    

Phillip walked into the lodge and saw Ann and Mr. Fairchild sitting on the sofa.  He wanted desperately to go to her and try to comfort her, but he knew what had to be done first.

 He saw Mrs. Lentz at the stove and walked toward her and extended his hand, “I'm Lieutenant Phillip Matter.  I'm sorry we have to meet under these horrible circumstances.  I feel so guilty about all of this. It was my job to protect them, and I failed miserably.  I'm so sorry for what has happened.”  Tears formed in his eyes.  

Mary began to cry again as she held onto his hand.  Through her tears she said, “I'm Mary Lentz, and I think the only ones to blame are the people who did this.”  

“I know who did it, and believe me, I'll find them and when I do I'm going to hang them.”  He hesitated for a moment, “I hate to ask you, but Lewey told me he can't assist with Rachel's body, and I would feel very awkward doing it myself.  I guess what I'm asking is for your assistance.”

“Whatever you want me to do, I'll be glad to help.  Let me finish here, and I'll be out.”

“Thank you.” He said and gave her a smile.  Phillip looked in at Ann and Mr. Fairchild and went back out to the coach.  He was able to lift Rachel's body out of the coach and into the bath area.  He placed her body on a table and removed her blood soaked coat.  He didn't feel comfortable removing her dress, but he could see exactly where the knife entered her stomach.  

When Mary entered, she was appalled at the sight.  “I never saw anything this brutal.  Poor girl, she must have suffered.”  With tears running down her cheeks, she said, “I'll remove her dress and wash her body.  Then you can help me place her body in a proper position for the undertaker.  I think the best thing to do is just wrap her in blankets and secure her in the back of the coach.”

Phillip nodded.           

With the task of cleaning Rachel's body completed, Mary wrapped her in blankets and nodded to Phillip who gently carried her out and secured her in the luggage area on the back of the coach.  Then in silence, Phillip and Lewey began to scrub the coach's interior.  They tried to remove all the blood stains from the door and seat, but the floor would not come clean.