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Without a doubt his ace was Belle, Red’s little sister.
Where had he hidden her?
* * *
Red swallowed back a yard-wide wail as she stood in the center of the street. She stared the full length one way. Where was Belle?
She turned slowly and studied the other side of town. Slowly her thoughts settled. Thorton would not let Belle go if for no other reason than it forced Red to dance for the despicable creature who considered himself her owner. Belle was around here somewhere. Close enough that Thorton could mock Red’s frustration. She shuddered. He delighted as much in tormenting Red as in anything else.
Where would he hide Belle? Likely any number of men would help him. Men of the same quality as he. Like Mr. Shack, who ran the feed store. Or dirty Old Mike Morton, who worked at the livery barn. Mike had a little cabin behind the barn where the owner allowed him to live.
The perfect place to lock up a little girl.
Without a backward glance or a considering thought, she steamed down the street, crossed behind the store to avoid being seen approaching the livery barn. She reached the tiny cabin. Sure enough, it was locked solid and the windows were boarded up tight as a drum. She tapped the door. “Belle?”
Did she hear a rustling? “Belle?” She dare not call loudly and alert any of Thorton’s willing cohorts, but she was certain something—or likely someone—moved inside.
The padlock was solid. No way she could hope to break it.
The wood on the windows was thick and nailed to last eternity.
No willing tool stood ready for her use. She glanced toward the sky, her frustration longing to escape in a scream. But she bit back any sound.
She looked to the right and the left. Saw the woodpile behind the store. Where there was wood, there was an ax. Exactly what she needed. She clambered over the debris between the yards, found the ax with its head buried in a log, wriggled it loose and stomped back to the shack. Gritting her teeth, she swung the ax with all her might against the padlock. When it refused to give, she attacked the door. Chips flew but the door did not give way. Again and again she swung. If only she was stronger she could inflict real damage.
The racket brought Old Mike from the barn. “Whatcha’ think you’re doin’? That’s my house. Get away.”
When he tried to drive her off, she swung the ax at him.
He wisely backed off.
The storekeeper and several other men joined him in a knot.
“Someone fetch Thorton. He’ll put a stop to this.”
“Yeah. Seems he’s the only one who can make her behave herself.”
Their words lent power to her arms and she swung harder. Now she could see inside. “Belle, keep back. I’m going to free you.”
“Who’s she talking to?”
“She’s strange. Just like Thorton says.”
A whole section of the door gave way. Holding the ax ready to use as a weapon, Red poked her head through the opening. Belle sat shivering on a crude bed. “Belle, honey. It’s me. Come here.” She held out her arms.
Belle’s eyes were wide and staring.
What had these men done to her in the three days that Red had been missing? She swung about and faced them, the ax lifted like a sword. “Anyone touch either of us and I’ll leave you in pieces.”
The men kept back a safe distance.
She turned back to her sister. “Belle, come here. I’ll look after you. Just like I always do.”
Whimpering, Belle slipped from the bed.
“What’s going on here?”
Red slowly turned to face the Mountie with Thorton on one side and Ward on the other.
“She’s trashed my house.” Mike pointed. “Arrest her, I say.”
“Red, what are you doing? Give me the ax.” The Mountie gingerly reached for her weapon.
Red didn’t budge. Didn’t offer to release it. Nor would she until Belle was safe and sound. “Have a look for yourself.” She stepped aside and indicated the Mountie should look in the hole.
He watched her carefully as he edged forward. She kept her back to the shack as she watched the circle of men for any threat, but she knew the moment the Mountie saw Belle because of his indrawn breath. “Come on, child. You’re safe now.”
Red kept her eyes on Thorton. She saw his intention to escape and sprang forward, waving the ax.
Ward also saw his intention and grabbed an arm and twisted it behind Thorton’s back.
The Mountie lifted Belle through the opening. She glanced about at all the men and pressed her back to the shack.
Red dropped the ax and held her arms out. Belle hesitated a moment, then raced to her sister.
“Thorton Winch,” the Mountie said, “I’m arresting you for kidnapping and a number of other charges. Take a good look at the sky. You won’t get many more chances.”
As he was led away, Thorton turned to Red. “Don’t think this is the end. I’ll get away and I’ll find you.”
The Mountie jerked his arms. “You aren’t going anywhere.
“Mike Morton, you are under arrest, too. Ward, would you bring him along?”
Thorton gave Ward a look fit to cure leather. “I’ll find you, too, and make you regret your part in this.”
The Mountie pushed him along.
The men shrank away, muttering they didn’t know about a child. She expected most of them told the truth.
In a few minutes Red and Belle were alone.
“What are we going to do?” Belle whispered.
“We’ll be fine.”
“Who’s going to take care of us?”
“We’ll take care of ourselves.” She spoke so reassuringly she almost believed her words. But she had no money. No clothing except the dress on her back and grateful she was for the brown one Linette had given her. But they had their freedom.
“Let’s go.” She took Belle’s hand and headed out of town, a different direction than the one that had brought her back a few hours ago.
“Where we going?”
“To a new life.” One, she vowed, where she would never again depend on a man. Or trust one.
They marched bravely onward until Belle dropped to the edge of the trail.
“We’re lost. And I’m hungry.” Silent tears trailed down her pale cheeks.
Red hated those tears and that silent cry, even though she felt like sitting at Belle’s side and joining her in a good wail. Her leg hurt even though she’d looked at it closely when Linette changed the dressing last night and knew it was a minor injury. Her head pounded like a thousand horses kicking to be released. “We’ll be okay.”
Belle shook her head. Not that Red blamed her for not believing. She had no plan. No options. “Come on. We can’t sit at the side of the road feeling sorry for ourselves.”
Belle didn’t move.
Red dried her sister’s tears on the skirt of the brown cotton dress. “Something will work out. It always does, doesn’t it?” Even though she said the words, she could think of too many times when things had gone wrong to be convincing.
“Can I call you Grace now?”
Red looked past Belle to the low bushes beside the trail. “I’ll never be Grace again. Continue calling me Red.” She yanked on a lock of hair. Why had she been cursed with hair that drew unwanted attention?
Belle sprang to her feet. Her eyes widened as she stared down the road. “Someone’s coming.” She bolted for the bushes.
“Belle, wait.” But Belle didn’t slow until she was well out of sight.
Red shared her sense of panic. Had Thorton escaped? She squinted at the approaching rider. He led a second horse. That fact alone sent shivers up and down Red’s spine. Slowly she backed away, aiming for the opposite side of the trail as Belle. That way if Red was caught, Belle might hope to escape.
To what? Starvation in the wilds?
She spun about. Her head did not like the sudden movement and dizziness made her stumble and fall to her knees.
“Red. Hold up. It’s me.”
She recognized the voice. Ward. Interfering again.
But her annoyance was laced liberally with relief. Surely he’d give her a ride.
To where? She had no place to go.
* * *
Ward was too far away to do anything but kick his horse to a gallop, and watch helplessly as Red fell to the ground. The woman seemed to have a knack for getting into trouble. But right now he didn’t have time to analyze that observation. He had to take care of Red and her little sister. Where had Belle disappeared to?
He jumped from his horse and trotted over to Red who now sat on the ground, her legs drawn up, her face buried in her knees. He squatted at her side. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Just turned too fast and fell.” She eyed him with squinting disfavor. “Could happen to anyone.”
He chuckled. “Yup. Happens to me all the time.”
She snorted. “Sure it does.”
“Well it does every time I have a blow to my head that leaves a lump the size of a turkey egg.”
She stared away.
He looked in the same direction. Saw nothing of interest. Some scraggly bushes along the trail, poplars with their lacy leaves dancing in the breeze, and further off, dark green spruce and pine. In the distance, the blue-gray Rockies. “Where you going?” Seemed to be nothing much out there for her to aim for.
“To freedom.”
“Yeah, sure. But where will you hang your hat?”
“No hat to hang.”
He guessed she had little of anything to hang. She’d left without pausing to collect her belongings. All she took with her was her little sister. Who—if he had to guess—hid from the sight of a man. No doubt men represented danger in her young mind. Maybe in Red’s not-so-young mind as well. “Even without a hat, you need a place. You can’t survive out in the open. Do you have any family?”
She didn’t shift her gaze. “Just Belle.”
“Uh-huh. Friends? Anyone who would give you a home?”
The look she gave him dripped disbelief. “Do you think if we did, we would have fallen into the clutches of a man like Thorton?”
“Guess it was a stupid question.”
“It sure was.”
He sank to his backside and drew his knees up in a pose that mirrored hers. Together they stared down the trail. “I got a place. Ain’t much. Just a tiny cabin. Someday it’s going to be more. Got plans for a big house.”
“What you want with a big house? You got a girl?”
“I got a mother and two brothers. It’s for them.”
“No pa?”
“He died.”
“Where are they now?”
Her question unleashed a tornado of memories, infiltrated with regrets and pain. “Back in New Brunswick. Travers is three years younger than me...” When he and Travers said goodbye, Travers swore he would come and join Ward when he thought Hank could take care of himself. The Travers he remembered never went back on his word. “Hank is ten years younger,” he continued. “He’d be thirteen by now. I ain’t seen him since he was six.”
She shifted to see his face. “How come?”
“I left.”
“Who is taking care of them?”
“My stepfather.” The man had vowed he loved Ma and the boys. Love! A word easily spoken. It meant nothing. Taking care of others was all that counted. That and kindness.
“Oh.” Her voice was small, tight. “That why you left?”
