The Convict and the Cattleman (26 page)

BOOK: The Convict and the Cattleman
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Feet first, because she might need to run before she needed the use of her hands. The fragment slipped, clinking against some other debris. There was a lull in the conversation. She held her breath. They started talking again and she released the pent-up air.

Without much light, it was difficult to measure her progress. Twitching her feet, she hoped to restore the blood flow. They tingled and burned, letting her know they were certainly still attached.

“I’m gonna take a lie-down,” Kenny announced. “Keep an ear turned on that girl.”

“Right-o. She won’t sneak by me, no sir.”

A matter of opinion. The fibers refused to give, though she wouldn’t let her hope die. If only there was something she could use to defend herself. A thin sliver of crockery wouldn’t impress either wastrel. She wasn’t strong or brave enough to kill them. She needed a miracle, or at least something to distract their attention.

The door on the other side of the curtain flew open, crashing against the wall.

“What the hell are you two duffers doin’ here?”

 

 

23

 

“I need to know exactly what she said, how she acted. Anything that can help us find her, Martha.”

Jonah leaned on his elbows across the table, staring at Martha. She shook her head and looked out the window over his shoulder.

“I don’t know what else to say. She was upstairs, probably pocketing the jewelry, and I called for her to get the jars. She wanted Farjana to do it, but I don’t even know where she was. I just wanted to get the chore done. I explained where the jars were. She brought up several and I told her that was plenty. That’s all. The last time I saw her.”

He balled his fist up and rapped his knuckles lightly against the surface of the table. Bridgit hated the dark, hated wild animals, and could barely find her way through the yard, much less untamed wilderness.

“You didn’t see anyone ride up, or people in the distance?”

Iron gray curls bobbed as she shook her head. “Not a soul, Jonah. She must’ve thought this out very carefully. What a pity about your watch and your sister’s things. I told you not to trust her.”

“It wasn’t her,” he growled, pushing the chair back.

“Why can’t you accept that she stole from you? You can’t mean you trust her after this.”

All the signs insisted he was wrong. He’d given her reasons to doubt him; he’d doubted himself. When he found her, he’d beg her forgiveness. “I don’t expect you to understand. Not after you’ve spent an entire month hating her. We have to go now. There’s still a chance we can find her.”

The sky was dark, no hint of the clouds letting up or the sun breaking through this morning. He hadn’t slept, but spent the night poring over the maps in the study, marking trails, the narrow road leading past Laurie Lark. If he had to, he’d check with every neighbor, and all the terrain between the station and Parramatta.

As a child, he’d walked, ran and climbed every inch of the surrounding land. Laurie Lark was a grand place for a boy to have adventures. Now he thought it was a terrible place for a woman with no wilderness skills to survive.

The jackaroos waited by the paddock. Most of them looked sleepy; they hadn't been back long enough to get any rest. Phil stood alone with his horse, looking sullen.

Jonah felt ashamed for the way he’d assumed the other man must have helped Bridgit escape. Ashamed because he’d possibly ruined their friendship and because he’d assumed the worst about the woman he was supposed to trust beyond any other.

Phil avoided his stare.

He’d apologize later.

“The most obvious direction is toward Parramatta and Sydney. At least that’s what I thought when I assumed she’d run away.”

The men looked interested.

“I have reason to believe she might not be alone. She may be with Robert Langnecker.”

Phil scowled. “Come on, Jonah. Now you think she’s run off with that dag? You’re pushing the limit here.”

He scowled back. “I didn’t say she’d run off with him. He might have taken her.”

“Boss?” Dagmar asked. “What makes you think so?”

“Bridgit left the ring with Olivia. She’d have taken it if she was after valuables.”

The news was greeted with silence.

Phil shook his head and mounted his horse. “I’m not riding for you. Not this time. If someone has Bridgit, she deserves to be brought back to safety, but I hope you don’t think you can cover up your mistakes.”

Jonah bristled. “I admit I may be wrong, Phil. Right now, the concern is on finding Bridgit. I’ll clear up any misunderstanding with her on our reunion.” He eyed the rest of the men. “If no one else has objections about the way I run things, we’ll commence the search, same patterns as before.”

He didn’t care if he ever recovered the stolen items. And whether Bridgit chose to forgive him or not was a matter of no importance unless they found her. The ring hung on the satin ribbon around his neck, tucked into his shirt. He intended to give it back to her, if she’d have it.

God, let her be alive to accept it.

He spotted Martha watching them mount up from the back door. Her mouth pinched and she looked sour, but she also seemed worried. He didn’t have time to comfort her. Instead he nudged his horse and rode off with the jackaroos behind him.

 

* * * *

 

At first Rog and Kenny hadn’t mentioned Bridgit’s presence. They let Rob think they were alone, but as the night wore on, he seemed to suspect they were up to something else. When he whipped the curtain aside and saw her, his face hardened. His sneer did nothing to reassure her that she’d come out of this situation alive.

“Plannin’ an escape, eh?”

Crouched in a corner, she straightened her shoulders as much as her position on the floor allowed and didn’t let her gaze waver. “I am. These two layabouts put together have as much common sense as a sheep.”

The corner of Langnecker’s mouth twitched. She hoped it was amusement and not anger causing the tick.

Kenny’s small eyes gleamed with malice. “We’re leaving ’er at the bottom of the dry well once we’ve ’ad our way wiv her, Rob. Some old bag wanted ’er gone pretty bad. You can ’ave a go at ’er too, if you like.”

Langnecker’s eyes slid over to Kenny. “Generous, but I think you’re missin’ the point here, mates.”

A dumbfounded expression came over Rog’s face as he looked between the two men. “What point be that, Rob?”

Hands on his hips, he shook his head. “I invited the two of you to use the cabin if you need it. Not to bring kidnapped women and dump their bodies in my well.”

His well? The ramshackle cabin belonged to him and he let bushrangers use it as a hideout? For a fleeting moment she’d allowed herself a small measure of hope. It flickered and died like a snuffed candle.

“It’s dry,” Kenny pointed out.

“What the hell are the two of you doin’ kidnappin’ women anyway?” Langnecker fumed. “Don’t you realize the law will catch up with you? Especially for taking this one.” He gestured at Bridgit.

“What’s wrong wiv this one?” Rog asked, studying her closely.

“She belongs to Jonah Andrus.”

Kenny shrugged. “Don’t know ’im. I don’t see what the fuss is about.”

“First, she’s the mother of his brat. Looks just like him. You think he’s goin’ to let her disappear without a hunt? Women are scarce. He can’t run out and marry up another one too easily.”

Neither bushranger looked impressed.

“Second, if you dump her, the law will come poundin’ on my door. With my record, I don’t need that kind of trouble. You want to kill her, take her somewhere else, mates.”

“Mr. Langnecker,” she protested.

“Shut your trap,” Kenny snapped.

“Who paid you?” Langnecker asked.

Kenny looked annoyed. “I dunno, do I? When someone offers money to get rid of one pesky woman, you take the money and do the job. Askin’ questions ain’t part of the bargain. It was ’er idea to dump the girl ’ere, though.”

Langnecker’s brow creased. “That so? Someone familiar with the lay of the land then, wasn’t it?” His fingers stroked the horn handle of his big knife, sheathed at his side. “Get rid of her, gents. Don’t be clutterin’ up my cabin with your doxies anymore, hear?”

Rog advanced on her, a wild glint in his eyes and a lurid smile on his face. He grasped her hair.

Bridgit screamed and attacked him with her fingernails. Bright red marks appeared on his cheek and the smile faded.

“Worthless whore!” he snarled.

He raised his hand to cuff her and she squeezed her eyes shut. It didn’t land. Peering through her lashes, she saw the glittering point of Langnecker’s knife pressed against Rog’s throat. Hope sprang to life once more.

“That’s enough. There’ll be no strikin’ women here.”

“She scratched me!” Rog whined.

“Kenny, I think you and Rog should go before I spill his blood across the floor.” Langnecker’s voice was hard.

She didn’t know whether to be relieved or more frightened.

“Can’t do it, Rob.” Jonah’s watch swung from Kenny’s fist. “The lady paid us and we’ve got to finish the job.”

“Short lady, gray hair? Beady little eyes?” Langnecker asked. The knife drew a bead of blood at Rog’s throat.

Rog winced. “Aye, that be the one.”

Langnecker gave a short bark of laughter. “She’s a right old bitch.”

“What’s your interest?” Kenny asked.

“Not a thing. ’Cept me and Miss Bridgit here have some trouble to sort out. I’ll take care of her once it’s done.”

Kenny shook his head. “No, I don’t think–”

“Kenny, ’e’s gonna slit my throat.” Rog’s voice was high with fear.

“You wouldn’t do a thing like that, would you, Rob? Not to poor old Rog, your pal from Parramatta. We’ve ’ad some good times, the three of us,” Kenny wheedled.

“We’ll carry on, too, provided the pair of you make yourselves scarce.” Langnecker pulled the knife away.

They didn’t waste any time leaving. The pair disappeared behind the curtain, and the sounds of them scrambling to retrieve their belongings was followed by the slamming door.

Langnecker stared at her. “You got on the wrong side of Martha, I’d say.”

Her throat was dry and she fought back a knot of fear. “Are you going to kill me?”

He scowled. “I can’t say I’m very happy with this. I don’t like findin’ those two dags with a woman I can barely tolerate in my house. But will I kill you?” His fingers tightened on the knife handle. A look of pure agitation crossed his face before he sliced the bonds around her ankles and hands. “You’d better wait ’til we’re sure they’re gone, then be on your merry. If you have any sense, you won’t go back to Laurie Lark. Not with Martha intent on seeing you dead.”

Tears burned her eyes. Things seemed dire. Lost in the bush, a woman who hated her at the station and Jonah unable to trust her. “I don’t know the way back.”

He shook his head and frowned. “Don’t expect me to help. All I’ve got from you lot is the run-around since I got back from the west coast. Charlotte doesn’t want me, then I don’t give a damn. She ain’t the first woman to snub her nose at me.”

The sad gleam darkening his eyes belied his words. Pity welled up. He’d saved her life and she owed him the truth.

“Robert, Charlotte–”

“Oh, I know. It’s her bloody brother, thinkin’ every shit he takes is worth its weight in gold.” Bitterness tinged his voice.

“Please listen.” She bit her lip, unsure how to continue. “Charlotte was ill and she–she didn’t make it, Rob. She died four months ago.”

As he searched her face, blue eyes rounded, then closed, guarding his pain. One hand covered his eyes and he bowed his head. His shoulders slumped. He took two steps and turned away.

She knew the expression too well, had seen the same grief on her mum’s face when the constable told them her da was murdered. Langnecker truly loved Charlotte, no matter who he consorted with or how he acted.

“Why didn’t someone tell me? What was the purpose of lyin’?” he asked, voice hoarse.

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