Where the Wind Blows (23 page)

Chase wanted to lie in the worst of ways. To make up some far-fetched story, fabricate his way out of this nightmare. But he couldn’t. Not to Jessie.

“That’s right.”

Her eyes moved around the room slowly as she put the pieces of the puzzle together. “And…,” she began unhurriedly as she stood and walked over to the window and looked out. “When you came back, when you were acting like you were going to bed me,
that
was all to
punish me
—for the mix-up with Mr. Hobbs.”

Despite the cold, Chase broke out in a sweat. “Yes.”

She whirled around so he could see her face. It was no longer pensive and sad, but flushed and furious.

“And everything you’ve ever done since then has been a lie!”

“No, that’s not true.” He said in his defense. “Every time I’d decide to return it, I’d get sidetracked and forget. Then the day before our weddin’ I realized it had been stolen when I was shot.”

Jessie gasped for breath as if she’d been sucker-punched. Her eyebrows crashed down and her face scrunched in an expression of great sorrow, causing Chase a pain so deep in his heart it would last a lifetime. He took a step in her direction, but she held up her hand, stopping him.

“Because,” she continued, “you were going to return it to me that day and leave.” Her voice was empty, but steely cold. “But when you found out it was gone, you felt
obligated
to marry me.”

Her back was brutally straight, her nostrils flared, and if she’d had a gun, Chase was almost certain she’d have used it on him.

Gabe inched his way to the door. Chase stilled him with a look. “I will explain everything to you after I find Sarah. Right now, every second counts.”

Chase tried to take her hands, but she jerked them away with such force, he was shocked.

“I’ll bring her back, Jessie. I promise.”

Outside, by his horse, he gave the cinch a hard, tightening pull. He checked his saddlebags for extra cartridges and took the rifle Gabe offered. Jessie watched them from the porch. Her grief-stricken face pierced his heart. Swinging into the saddle like a man gone mad, he galloped off.

Chase rode through the trees as if pursued by demons, dodging snow-covered limbs that reached out seemingly to snatch him from the saddle. Frigid wind bit at his ears and stung his cheeks. With the freshly fallen snow, the trail he was looking for was easy to find and follow.

Only one horse.

He’d promised Jessie he’d bring Sarah back, and he would. Come hell or high water, nothing could keep him from finding his little girl. “Hang on, sweetheart,” he said under his breath. “Pa’s coming.”

Pushing Cody as long as he safely could, he finally reined the gelding in so he could catch his breath. The horse’s flanks were frothy and his chest heaved as he sucked in air. Great streams of white steam pumped from his nostrils.

The weight of his twin Colts pressed reassuringly on Chase’s thighs. He scanned the area. It looked disturbed in several different directions.

“Either he doesn’t know which way to go, or he’s trying to confuse me.”

Cody threw his head, snorting his impatience. Chase circled once, then twice, looking for the trail.

Then he spotted it. A dark crimson blotch on the glistening white snow.

Blood!

Just one small drop. Then, as he approached, another. Trying not to think what it might mean, he pressed his spurs urgently into Cody’s sides. Bounding through the pines, Chase suddenly came upon a gigantic expanse of flat rocks. The trees surrounding it were dense and thick, and had protected the rocks from the snowfall. They were virtually bare and dry.

He dismounted and led Cody slowly over the large, smooth stones. Tracking on this would get questionable, as the horse he was following wasn’t wearing shoes. Sarah’s captor must have headed for these rocks purposely.

“What kind of man takes a little girl from her bed?” he said aloud in his frustration. Squatting, he ran his fingers across a scarring on top of the rock where the horse had slipped. But where did he go? He was losing time. Every moment, every tick of the clock took Sarah farther away.

Standing, Chase searched the hilltops. “Couldn’t just disappear.” Chase turned and looked behind at where he’d just come. Searching the area carefully was out of the question—it would take too much time.

Crushing fear. He gasped. He’d lost the trail. Which way had they gone? He gazed up into the expanse of the bright morning sky, thinking. He turned a full circle. Seconds turned into a minute. What now? What the hell now? Overwhelmed, he ground his thumb and knuckle into his stinging eyes.

Slowly, a warm calm descended over Chase. Something about the sun’s reflection on the clouds drew his attention.
He stared at them, just taking in the sight. Time slowed down, quiet enveloped him, his senses fairly hummed until he could feel each and every beat of his heart. Then he did something he’d never done in his life. He sank down onto his knees and closed his eyes.

“God?” He stopped at the desperate sound of his voice, then began again. “God, are you there? Jessie says you are. Well, I believe her. I need your help. Sarah needs you. Please, show me the way.”

At that moment a breezed picked up and ruffled Chase’s hair. It was cold and felt good against his face. Chase opened his eyes and staggered to his feet. He picked up Cody’s reins. Unexpectedly, a thought came to mind. He remembered hearing about a trick that the Indian scouts used when tracking. He mounted, than gave Cody his head.

For several agonizing moments, Cody just stood there. Then, purposefully, the horse started off to the west, picking his way over the slippery, flat stones. Chase released his breath slowly, unaware he’d been holding it.

Time seemed to stand still. It was maddening not knowing whether they were even headed in the right direction.

Twenty minutes later, he saw an end to the rocks and the beginning of a snowbank. Undisturbed snow surrounded him.

There was not a track in sight.

“Is this the way?” This was not what he’d been hoping for. As he sat trying to figure out what to do next, the sounds of running water caught his attention. To the left, at the edge of the outcropping of rocks, was a stream. He nudged his horse in. North. South was back toward the ranch. He didn’t think the rider would double back at this point. Gut feelings and a prayer were all he had left.

A good five hundred yards up the stream, a trail exited the water. Next to the bank was a pile of fresh horse manure.
Chase proceeded carefully, knowing he couldn’t be that far behind now. Every few feet he’d stop and listen, straining to hear the slightest sound. Barreling in and getting himself killed wouldn’t do Sarah any good.

Suddenly, Cody’s head jerked up, and he looked to the left. Chase swung off, covering the horse’s muzzle. When Cody lost interest, Chase left the gelding behind and made his way carefully through the brush, silently drawing a gun from its holster. He forced all thought from his head. Out of habit, he checked the gun’s chambers, knowing full well they were loaded.

“Quit your whinin’, ya little sniveler. You want to end up like this here horse?” a voice snarled out. “You best learn to behave yourself, ’cause you ain’t never seeing yer ma again.”

A lightning bolt of relief ripped through Chase. Sarah was alive! He couldn’t see her yet, but he could hear her soft cries.

“You better start running,” Chase growled under his breath, his heart rate quickening as he was barely controlling his urge to rush to Sarah. “Hold on, sweetheart.” At that moment, Cody nickered.

Chase caught sight of his quarry in time to see the man snatch Sarah by the wrist and jump back, wedging spiderlike into a crevice between two rocks. His horse lay stretched on the ground, blood oozing from his nostrils, ridden to death.

“I know yer there,” the man called. “Throw down yer gun and show your stinkin’ hide or I’ll be a plugging this here purdy little girl child.”

Staying out of sight, Chase edged around some trees, then dug through the snow for a rock. With a heave, he sent it sailing up and over to the right.

The boom of the man’s shotgun echoed through the forest. Sarah screamed. Chase advanced and then dove for the cover of some rocks, slipping closer to the pair.

“You shut yer screaming mouth before I shut it fur ya.” The sound of a slap filled the air. Then silence.

Chase’s gut tightened. He gritted his teeth. “Touch her again, and you’ll be beggin’ to die when I get through with you,” Chase called, his heart beating wildly.

“Big words, big words.”

Chase spotted a small ridge up behind where the man and Sarah hid. If he could just get up there without being noticed, he’d have a clear shot.

“Who are you, and what do you want with the child?” Chase hoped his question would keep the man talking while he made his way around and up.

“Don’t ya know? Didn’t that sassy gal of yours tell ya? I’m takin’ this here girl in place of my kin, Lonnie. It’s your fault he’s dead now.”

“Lonnie,” Chase said, surprised. “He was alive the last time I saw him.”

“Got gutshot escaping. That woman of yours is to blame. Lonnie used to watch her getting water from the stream. It was close to our claim. If she hadn’t been sashaying around the store that day, jist beggin’ for it, Lonnie’d be alive today.”

“So—it was you who shot me.”

The man hawked and spit. “ ’Tweren’t me. Lonnie.”

Chase eased his way up the bluff and crawled on his belly through the snow.

“Poor Lonnie,” the man continued. “Gutshot. Lousy way ta go. And that’s what I’ll do to you—and leave ya in the snow to die slow.”

Chase could almost see him now. And Sarah. A little farther and he’d have a clear shot. He inched behind a pine tree and peered around. There. It was the no-account they’d met on the road. Chase hunkered down, waiting for his chance.

“Where’d ya sneak off to?”

Chase watched as he hauled Sarah up by her arm. Her eyes were wild with fear. She cowered back from his face.

Rage pounded through every inch of Chase’s body. This was his Sarah, his sweet little girl. Memories of her curled up quietly on the foot of his bed that first morning shot through his heart. Her somber eyes, her shy, beguiling smile. The man gripping her now with one filthy hand was buying himself a one-way ticket straight to hell.

Chase peered down the hill, never taking his eyes from the pair. The man seemed edgy and nervous, looking around for Chase. Frightened animals were dangerous, and so were panicky men. He needed Sarah out of there now, before Lonnie’s brother did something rash. The man called out again.

“You, out there. Speak up, or I’ll hurt this little gal. She’s jist now gettin’ over the last slap.” He squeezed her wrist, and Sarah whimpered. “Louder, I need him ta hear ya.” With that he grabbed Sarah by the back of her hair and gave it a good jerk.

Sweat broke out over Chase’s body. If Sarah weren’t in the way, he’d have drilled him between his beady little snake eyes. Get this torture over with. He could hit him easily from this distance.

“Get down, Sarah,” Chase whispered to himself. “Get down.”

Without warning, the man lifted Sarah and darted out of
his hiding place. Down the hillside he ran, shotgun in one hand, Sarah in the other.

Where in the hell does he think he’s going? Chase wondered. Without a horse, the man didn’t stand a chance of getting away.

“Hold up,” Chase yelled, shooting into the air.

The man dove to the ground, landing with a thud. Rolling onto his side, he slung his arm around Sarah and pulled her in front of him.

“Let her go!” Chase shouted. “Now!” Running behind the trees, he made his way closer to the pair.

“Can’t do that.”

Unexpectedly, he looked confused. As if he was just now realizing his predicament. Sarah’s gaze was glued to the spot where she’d heard Chase’s voice, her face frozen with fear.

“Goldarn horse,” the man sputtered. “If he hadn’t up and died…” Suddenly he laughed loudly, crazily. “Just like the girl in Clancy. She weren’t supposed ta die neither…”

“Let her go,” Chase demanded.

“Whoops—here she comes.” With that, the man shoved Sarah forward, at the same time swinging his shotgun up and firing in Chase’s direction.

Sarah landed facedown in the snow and, to Chase’s relief, stayed put. Chase returned fire, killing the man with his first shot. Motionless, he lay with his shotgun wedged in the snow by his side.

Chase bounded down the hill. Scooping Sarah up, he held her tight against his heart, inhaling her sweet scent. Relief so acute it was nearly painful flooded his senses. He felt as if he could stand there forever, never letting her go.

Sarah, trembling uncontrollably, wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck.

“I’d say you’re glad to see me, pumpkin,” he said finally
when he’d composed himself, his voice husky. Turning his head, he gave her a kiss on her tear-stained cheek. “You’re about as soft as a goose-down pillow.”

Sarah’s lips curled in a small smile, and she laid her cold hand lightly on his cheek, gazing into his eyes. “Da,” she whispered.

Chase’s throat closed. He ground his fingers into his burning eyes, wiping away the moisture. Turning, he held her so she couldn’t see the man lying a few feet away, his sightless eyes staring to the sky.

He gave a long whistle, and within moments Cody came trotting through the trees, his reins trailing beside him. Setting Sarah in the saddle, he climbed up behind her. She was shivering violently from the cold. He quickly unbuttoned his heavy coat, then turned Sarah around and drew her close, folding her legs up and wrapping her arms around his trunk. Then he buttoned the coat up around her, so she could share his body heat.

Throughout the ride back, she was quiet and still, and it seemed he could feel her with every beat of his heart.

It was almost dark when Chase finally reached the ranch. Riding into the yard, he found the old wagon they’d used to make their trip here sitting in front of the porch. Except for the occasional movement of the horses in the corral, all was still.

Jessie came through the door, her arms loaded with boxes. When she saw him, her face dropped, clouding with pain. It was clear she didn’t see the child hidden beneath his coat.

“She’s here,” Chase called from twenty feet away. He patted his coat. Sarah had warmed up on the long ride home and had kept him toasty warm in the process.

Jessie bolted toward him, dropping the things she’d been carrying. “Is she…?”

“She’s all right. She’s fine. She’s asleep.”

“Let me have her,” Jessie said, reaching for Sarah.

“I’ll take her inside,” Chase replied, looking from her to the wagon.

“Can you take care of Cody?” Chase asked Gabe, who’d followed Jessie out. “He’ll need extra care.” The boy nodded.

Jessie turned and walked with him toward the house.

Chase carefully laid Sarah in her bed and covered her with several blankets. He tenderly kissed her warm, dewy cheek. She didn’t wake up. Back in the front room, he looked into Jessie’s face. Her expression was something he’d never seen before, something he couldn’t discern.

“How’s Jake?” he asked, trying to sound all business, when inside he was as shaky as aspens in the wind.

“He’ll be fine, I think, in a few days, but right now he has a very bad headache. Who took Sarah?”

“Lonnie’s brother. After we turned Lonnie in, he tried to escape. He was shot and killed in the process.”

“Is he…?” she slowly asked, her face guarded.

Chase nodded.

He couldn’t avoid the obvious. His nerves were strung tight. He had to know. “Why’s the wagon out?”

Jessie turned to him. He saw her heart in her eyes, but something else, too. Regret, sadness, heartbreak…anger!

“It’s over, Chase.” The words were spoken quietly, but rang through his head loud and long.

“I know,” he replied. “But I’m the one who’s leaving—not you.”

“I won’t let you up and give me everything belonging to you,” Jessie said, her eyes snapping.

“When?”

Jessie averted her eyes. “Soon,” she whispered. She lifted her gaze to his. “Daybreak tomorrow.”

Chase sat at the supper table, one hand holding a coffee mug, the other drumming restlessly. Awkward silence filled the room as Jessie heated water for Jake.

“Chase, you out there?” Jake called from the bedroom.

Chase stood, stretched his back, then went to see Jake.

“I let you down.” Jake winced as he spoke. “When I saw that man behind the barn, I went to see what he was up to, and whack, he hit me over the head.”

Chase rolled the matchstick he held between his teeth. “Didn’t let me down. I’m just glad you weren’t hurt worse.” He leaned over and looked at Jake’s head. He gave a long whistle. “How’s it feel?”

“Better now. But for a while I thought my head just might split directly down the middle.” His hand came up and he gingerly inspected the injured area. “Jessie’s willow-bark tea has helped considerably.”

Jake’s color was almost back to normal, but the huge lump on his forehead was taking on a purplish tint, its edges black and gray.

Chase glanced at Jessie, who was standing in the doorway. “You’re getting pretty good at your doctoring. Mrs. Hollyhock would be proud. Will that willow tea help my aching back any?”

She shrugged and looked away. “Don’t see why not.”

She looked tired as she moved about the kitchen. Her shoulders drooped, and he wished he could hold her, cuddle her. Hell, he desperately wanted to make love to her…restore her hope and feel the fire he knew burned deep inside.

She turned. His gaze held hers. She quickly lowered her
lashes, but not before he saw the yearning, the glowing desire shining in her eyes.

His chest tightened with regret as her cheeks tinged with color. His emotions grew slowly and steadily into a thunderous storm of confused feelings. Yesterday he would have scooped her up and carried her off to their bedroom, teasing her until she begged for him to love her. How had things had changed so fast? Daybreak was only a few short hours away.