A Shelter of Hope (40 page)

LOUIS GLANCED OVER at his daughter. She leaned forward, awkwardly positioned atop the horse he’d managed to steal. Her head bobbed up and down with the steady plodding of the horse, and her eyes were closed. She wouldn’t last much longer. He’d refused her food and water over the past forty-eight hours, all in hopes of keeping her too weak to fight him. Now, however, she was about to fall off her mount. They’d have to stop in order for her to rest. He glanced around, seeing in the dusky twilight that they were as far removed from civilization as they could get. It gave him a small amount of comfort.

“We’ll make camp here,” Louis told her. He slid off his mount and walked the beast to a nearby sapling. Tying the reins securely, Louis unfastened the reins to Simone’s mount from where he’d tied them to the horn of his own saddle. He pulled the horse up even with his own, then after tying him off, Louis reached up and pulled Simone down.

“Go over there and don’t even think of trying to sneak off,” he told her, knowing Simone was physically incapable of escaping.

Simone seemed to barely even hear him. She stumbled several paces in the direction her father had pointed, then collapsed onto the hard ground. Louis looked at her for a moment, then shrugged and went back to the business of unsaddling the horses. Better that she sleep, he decided. If she was unconscious, she wouldn’t be plotting against him.

He unfastened a bundle he’d secured to the back of his mount, then pulled off the saddle and tethered the horse in such a way that he could feed off the nearby grass. After doing the same for Simone’s horse, he built a fire and sat down to satisfy his own needs.

First came a bottle of whiskey. He took a long drink, then congratulated himself for being cunning enough to have found the deserted farmhouse where he stole not only his drink but horses and other supplies, as well. Apparently the family had gone into town, leaving the place completely vulnerable to his needs. There had been a protective farm dog, but Louis’s knife had taken care of that matter. It immediately appeared that this farm specialized in breeding horseflesh. It was perfect for their predicament. Six or seven horses were in a nearby corral, and Louis had only to pick out the best looking of the bunch.

Simone had been sick over his treatment of the family pet, so while he searched the house for things they could use, he’d left Simone tied to the porch not ten feet from where the dog lay dying. He had heard her crying the entire time he ransacked the house.

He stared at her unconscious form with indifference. She had no idea what lay ahead for her. No doubt she’d complain about her unfair lot.
Probably cry about everything day and night. Whining female! Just like her mother. Always thinking tears could turn a man’s heart
. Louis laughed and took another swig from the bottle.

“Well, you won’t be turning a man’s heart with tears when I get through with you,” he said, continuing to stare at Simone’s crumpled form. “They’ll line up to pay for what you’ve got to offer, and it won’t be tears. You’ll do what you’re told, and you’ll make me a rich man.”

Louis paused long enough to throw some wood on the fire and leaned back once again to cherish the bottle of whiskey. He muttered a curse and took a drink. “Stupid state. Keeping a man from a good drink ought to be against the law, not part of it.” He neither knew nor cared why this Florence farm family had managed to secure a bottle for their cabinet—he only thanked the fates for his finding it. He’d taken it, along with a loaf of bread, half a wheel of cheese, and three thick slices of ham that were still sitting on the back of the stove. And now, smirking over his victorious journey to find Simone, Louis helped himself to some of the meat and dreamed of his future.

“You thought you could outrun me,” he told the sleeping Simone. “Thought you could run and leave me like your mother. Well, you were a fool.”

Louis ate in silence, washing down the dried-out ham with whiskey. They were still several days from the mining camps of Colorado. If the weather held and Simone regained her strength, they could probably be to Denver within a week. Denver would allow Louis a few chances at the poker tables and maybe even a high roller who was willing to pay for Simone’s innocence. The idea was thought provoking. Denver was full of moneyed men, and the idea of making a quick buck was enough to warm Louis’s blood. That and the whiskey.

Several hours later, the bottle was empty and Louis was drunk. He didn’t feel overwhelmingly drunk—after all, he’d spent most of his years imbibing in one form of liquor or another. But it was as if the long wait from Chicago to this prairie field had somehow cleansed his system and allowed the liquor to take a stronger hold. He felt warm and wonderfully relaxed. He could have easily danced a jig or joined in a tavern drinking song, he felt so good.

Simone stirred, and the action caused Louis to take note of her once again.

“Stupid girl. You’re slowing me down.”

The sound of his voice apparently brought her awake. Sitting up very slowly, Simone stared at him for a moment before taking in the campfire and the scene around them. She looked heavenward at the full moon before rasping out her question.

“Where are we?”

“Can’t say,” Louis replied. “I ain’t never been to this part of the country. It’s my guess that we’ll make Denver inside of a week. And then you are going to make me a rich man.”

Simone shook her head. “You’re wrong. I won’t do the things you plan for me.”

“And how do you propose to stop me? You couldn’t even escape me,” Louis replied, slurring his words. “I had it all planned. I came back for you that night.”

“What are you talking about?” Simone asked, her hand going to her head as if to clear out the haze that kept her from understanding.

Louis laughed. “I came back for you after leavin’ you with Davis. Figured on changin’ our plans.”

“You came back?” she asked and her voice was barely audible. Then, as if forgetting what she had asked, Simone eased up on her knees and asked, “Can I have some water?”

Louis looked at her for a moment. She looked to be in bad shape, and while it had served his purpose to keep her weak, if he was going to get any real money out of her, he was going to have to treat her right. He tossed her a canteen and then begrudgingly cut a chunk of cheese and tossed that at her, as well.

The canteen landed at her right hand, and she’d just managed to sit down when the cheese landed in her lap. She stared dumbly at it for a few minutes before Louis spoke.

“You’d better eat it. We don’t have much, but you’ll have to keep up your strength.” He watched as she drank from the canteen. She looked so much like her mother that to Louis’s drunken mind she was very nearly the same woman.

“I told you not to betray me,” he muttered. “I warned you good. You shouldn’t have left me.”

Simone looked up at him. “You gave me away. You sold me to Garvey Davis.”

“But I came back.”

“You keep saying that,” she whispered, nibbling at the cheese.

“I came back to take you with me,” he said. “Decided to take you so that you could make me some money.”

“I won’t,” she said flatly, and when she said nothing else, Louis continued.

“They’ll like your looks in Denver. They liked your looks in Uniontown. Could’ve made good money there.” He paused and looked past her into the darkness. He could almost see them living it up in Denver. If she would just see things his way.

“I won’t go with you,” Simone said.

He looked back to her. “You’ll go. You don’t want me doing to you what I did to him.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, scooting closer to the fire.

“I told you I came back. Saw what you did to Garvey.” Louis laughed a deep, throaty laugh. “Didn’t know you had it in you.”

Simone shuddered. “I’m not proud of what I did. But I was protecting myself. He would have raped me! You left me there and now you suggest—”

“He was to be your husband. That weren’t rape. What a man does with his wife ain’t rape.”

“It is when it’s forced,” Simone replied.

Louis shrugged. “He was moaning and groaning. Couldn’t even get up.”

“What are you saying?”

Simone moved closer still, her face blurring before his eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this tired, and that, on top of the whiskey, was making it hard to remember what he was saying.

But Simone was adamant. “What do you mean he was moaning and groaning? Are you talking about Garvey Davis?”

Louis shrugged again. “Who else would I be talkin’ about, you dim-witted girl? I finished the job you started. Took my maul from the tool shed and did the job right.” He rubbed his eyes, and when he looked at Simone again, she was crying. “What ails you now?”

She shook her head. “I … I thought … I killed him.”

Louis laughed. “The law thinks that, too. But I don’t care. It’ll give me control over you. You’ll do what you’re told, or I’ll turn you in.”

“But I was going to turn myself in,” Simone replied. “All this time I thought I’d killed Garvey Davis.” She wiped her eyes. “I didn’t kill him. I didn’t kill him.”

“No, you didn’t,” Louis replied. “I killed the man. Figured if he was stupid enough to get himself into a fix like that, then he didn’t deserve to live.”

“But you’d let them hang me for this? For a crime I didn’t commit?”

“As far as the law is concerned, you did the deed.”

“But I’m your child. Your own flesh and blood.”

“You ain’t mine. Your ma was already carrying you when I met up with her in Denver.”

“What?” Simone got to her feet slowly. “What are you saying?”

Louis, too, struggled to his feet. “I’m saying you ain’t my kid.”

“Then who is my father?” Simone asked, a look of shock clearly registered on her face.

Louis shook his head. “I don’t know and I don’t care. I just know that I’ve done the job all these years and now you’re coming with me. You owe me.”

Simone shook her head. “No wonder you could do those things to me. No wonder you hated me so much. I couldn’t understand how you could just give me to Garvey Davis, but now I know.”

“I didn’t give you to nobody. Davis bought you fair and square. Just like the others are gonna do.”

“No,” Simone replied, backing away. “I won’t do it.”

“You have no choice.”

“You can’t watch me twenty-four hours a day,” Simone replied.

“And there’s no place you can run that’s far enough to keep me from finding you.”

Simone shuddered and Louis laughed. He knew she sensed his power, and it gave him courage. “So unless you want to end up dead like Davis, you’d best get it in your head to cooperate.”

“There are worse things than death,” she said.

Louis thought about the words for a moment. The girl had a point. He supposed there were a few things worse than death. He staggered back a step before speaking. “It don’t matter. You’re coming with me. The world thinks you’re a murderin’ thief. Just remember, it was you—not me, who took Davis’s horse and saddle.”

“But you killed him,” she threw back.

“Yeah, I killed him. I did it. I killed Garvey Davis, but no one ’cept you and me knows that.”

The sound of a gun cocking instantly grabbed Louis’s attention. He might be drunk, but he wasn’t so far gone that he couldn’t recognize that sound. He looked at Simone for a moment. The look on her face told him that she’d heard it, too, but it wasn’t until she took another step backward that Louis realized he’d been found out.

Two men emerged from behind the trees. One held a gun level with Louis’s midsection. The other, too well dressed for this kind of business, clearly had his eyes fixed on Simone.

“Louis Dumas, I’m arresting you for the murder of Garvey Davis.”

“Weren’t me,” Louis protested, his hands flailing. “It was the girl.”

“We heard your confession,” the man with the gun commented.

The other man moved quickly to where Simone stood. Louis heard him ask if she was all right. “Leave her be. Unless you’re paying, you stay away from her.”

“Oh, Jeffery, you found me,” Simone murmured, her tears flowing anew. “He took me from Florence.”

“I know,” the man whispered, pulling her into his arms.

Louis pulled a knife from his boot and lunged at Jeffery. “I told you to leave her be.”

Simone screamed and Jeffery quickly shielded her behind him. Louis swept the knife through the air. “You aren’t going to ruin this for me. You aren’t taking her away.” He slashed at the air with his knife while Jeffery narrowly escaped by dodging back and forth. The fact that he held Simone behind him slowed his steps, however, and without warning, Louis’s blade caught the edge of the man’s coat.

Louis knew he’d made contact with the man’s flesh, just by the look in his eyes. Louis had seen that look a hundred times before. It was a look of panic—a look that questioned survival.

“I’m gonna kill—” Louis felt the hard blow on his head, and for a moment he stood as though nothing had happened. Then everything went black.

Simone looked down at her father’s crumpled form and then to the man who’d struck him with the butt of his revolver. The man with the gun came forward and stood not two feet away while Jeffery tried to bind his cut with his handkerchief.

“I didn’t kill him.” Simone looked into the man’s face, shadows from the fire dancing around him. “I didn’t kill Garvey Davis.”

“I know,” the man with the gun replied. “I heard everything he said.”

Jeffery turned to her. “We were out there for most of the time you were sleeping. We were going to come in then, but we were afraid of what might have happened if you awoke in a start.”

“Jeffery,” she gasped, looking at the red-stained handkerchief.

“You’re bleeding pretty good,” the other man said, holstering his gun. “You’d best let me see if I can get it stopped.”

Simone watched as he unwrapped the handkerchief and inspected the bleeding wound. It was more than she could take. With the knowledge of her innocence, Simone followed her father’s example and passed out cold on the hard prairie ground.

THIRTY-THREE