Longings of the Heart (15 page)

“All right, then. We’ll go get them and those apples.” He moved toward the door. “Bring the lantern.”

Hannah did as she was told.

He motioned her toward the door and then followed her out. Hannah’s mind went through escape scenarios. Perhaps she could hide in the field. He’d have a time finding her. She could make her way to the Connors’. They’d help her.

But even as she considered fleeing, she knew he’d catch her. And what about poor Perry? Hannah fought a tide of tears.

When she stepped inside the barn, her thoughts turned to defense. If she could find a weapon, maybe she could catch him unawares. She glanced at a pitchfork leaning against the wall.

“Try it. See where it gets ye.” The man’s lips lifted in an ugly grin. “Using a pitchfork against a musket—how do ye think ye’ll do, eh?” He laughed.

Hannah didn’t respond. She lifted a cloth bag out of a wooden box.

“You have a fruit cellar?”

“No. We’ve only just built this place. The apples are in a bin . . . here.” She moved toward the north wall.

The intruder’s eyes shot about the barn. Jackson leaped against the stable gate, growling and yapping. “Shut up! Or I’ll shut ye up!”

“Jackson, hush,” Hannah ordered. The dog quieted.

“What else ye ’ave?”

“We’ve carrots and potatoes.”

“I’ll have some of them too.” He nodded toward the river. “What’s in the springhouse?”

Hannah set apples in the bag. “Milk, butter, and cheese.”

“All right. Hurry up.”

Hannah added carrots and potatoes to the sack and tried to hand it to him.

“You hold it. Head for the springhouse.”

The lantern light cut through the darkness as Hannah led the way down the drive. The man followed. She wondered what he’d do when he had what he wanted.
Lord, please make him
leave. Don’t let him hurt me or poor Perry any further.

Once inside the springhouse, the escapee wanted only cheese. He ordered her to add some to his stash. Hannah placed three balls in the bag.

“All right. Back to the house.”

“What more can you want? I’ve nothing more to give you. Please go. Leave me to care for my friend.”

The man grabbed Hannah’s wrist and twisted her arm back. “Maybe I’m not leaving, eh? Maybe I’ll take ye with me.”

Hannah’s throat constricted, threatening to cut off her air.
God, no. Save me. Save Perry.
Although feeling panic, Hannah somehow found calm and countered with, “If you take me, I’ll only slow you down. Plus you’d attract attention to yourself. And my husband will hunt you down.”

A shrewd look passed over the man’s face. “If that man on the floor back there isn’t yer husband, then where is yer husband, eh?” He smiled.

“He’s on his way home this minute. He’ll be here soon. I implore you, let me be. It will go hard on you if you’re found out.”

A look of cunning crossed the man’s face. “He’s not coming, is he? As far as I know, he may not even exist.” He smiled. “All I need is one night. Just one.” His tone sounded almost tender. He pulled her close and pressed his face against her hair, breathing deeply. “Ye smell of soap and lavender.” Abruptly he shoved her away from him. “Back to the house.”

Flashes of memory taunted Hannah as she moved on. Pictures of Judge Walker shouted at her from the past. What if this man raped her too?
Lord, I couldn’t bear it.

When Hannah stepped into the house, a wave of relief swept through her. Perry was sitting up. His hands were still tied behind his back, and blood dribbled from a cut beneath one eye and the bridge of his nose. She hurried to him. “Thank goodness. You’re all right.”

“So, ye’ve come to, eh?” The man jeered. “Seems I put ye to sleep right well, though.” He laughed. “Not so bright of ye to poke yer head in like that.”

Perry peered at him through blackened eyes. “Ye’ve managed to lay me flat and ye’ve got what ye came for.” His eyes settled on the bag. “Nothing more for ye here.”

The intruder looked at Hannah. “I want ye to put some of that flowery soap of yers in the bag.”

Hannah stared at him. It seemed an odd request.

“Get it.”

It mattered little why he wanted it, if only he took it and left. She grabbed some of the precious soap, tied it in paper, and added it to the other items. He watched her closely.

Without warning, Perry leapt from the floor and grabbed the musket. The two men wrestled over the weapon, knowing that the one who possessed the musket held sway over the other. There was nothing Hannah could do but watch. Suddenly, a loud blast reverberated through the house and Perry fell backward against the wall. Blood quickly soaked his shirt.

“My Lord!” Hannah screamed. “You’ve killed him!” She hurried to her friend. Pressing a hand against his wound, she glared at the intruder. “You’ll hang for this!”

Wearing a smirk, he said, “I’ll not hang, for this or anything else.” He grabbed the bag of goods and headed for the door. Flinging it wide, he stepped outside and disappeared into the darkness. Hannah heard the galloping steps of her mare as the prisoner escaped.

She turned her attention to Perry. “Are you all right? Are you with me?”

Perry managed to nod.

Hannah ripped open his shirt. A tattered wound marked his side.
Oh Lord, what am I to do?

She grabbed a cloth from a kitchen shelf and pressed it against the injury. “Push your arm down against this. It will slow the bleeding.” Hannah knew she needed to get Perry to a physician. “Can you walk?”

He opened one eye and then the other. “I’ll try,” he gasped. “You need the surgeon.” Hannah put her shoulder under his arm and pushed while he struggled to find his feet. “Lean on me. I’ll take you to Dr. Gelson.”

With Perry draped over her, Hannah made her way to the buggy and then helped him struggle onto the seat. He sat hunched over and fighting for breath.

“Thank the Lord he didn’t take the buggy,” Hannah said, climbing in beside Perry.

“Too easy to . . . find him . . . if . . . he’s in the . . . buggy.”

Hannah rested a hand on Perry’s shoulder. “Lean on me.”

With a nod, he rested against Hannah. She released the brake, grabbed the tracings, and turned the horse toward the road. With a lash of the reins, the animal moved at a fast trot. Hannah was thankful for a risen moon, for it made it easier to see. She glanced at Perry. “How did you free yourself?”

“Ye don’t know how to tie a decent knot.” He gasped as pain cut through him.

“I’m terrible at it, but I did try to leave it as loose as I could. I was hoping you’d get free.”

When Hannah reached David Gelson’s office, she scrambled down from the buggy and ran to his door. Pounding on it, she cried, “Doctor! Doctor Gelson! We need help!”

A moment later David appeared, looking disheveled, but alert. “Hannah? What’s happened?”

“It’s Perry. He’s been shot.”

Carrying a lantern, David hurried to the buggy and gave Perry a quick look.

“Is he going to be all right?”

“I can’t tell for sure, at least not until I examine him further.” He handed the lantern to Hannah and then hefted Perry out of the buggy. Supporting him, he slowly made his way into the office. Once inside, he carefully laid Perry on an examining table and checked his injuries. “Looks like he took a pretty bad beating.”

“He did.”

“What happened?” He probed the wound and Perry groaned.

“An escaped convict was at my house. He attacked us.”

“Where’s John?”

The reality of John’s absence swept over Hannah, and she suddenly felt utterly alone. “He’s in Sydney Town,” she said as casually as she could.

Dr. Gelson nodded. “The ball’s lodged somewhere in his side. I’ll have to remove it.” He looked at Hannah. “I could use assistance.”

“I can do it.”

“Good.” David turned to Perry. “I’ll have to go in after the slug. And it’s going to hurt.”

“Do what ye have to.” He met the doctor’s eyes bravely. “This isn’t much. Grew up on the streets of London and seen a lot worse.”

“All right, then.” David measured powder into a glass of water, stirred the mixture, and then lifted Perry and had him drink it. “This will help.”

Perry grimaced. “Tastes vile.”

David lowered him back to the table. “That it does.” He walked to a cabinet, took out surgical instruments, and set them on a stand beside the table. He tied on an apron and gave one to Hannah. “You’ll need this.”

Hannah held up the apron, fear taking hold. She’d never helped with anything this bad, but Perry needed her. She put it on.

“No matter how I holler, pay me no mind,” Perry said, his speech slurred.

“I promise,” David said with a teasing lilt to his voice. He swabbed the area to be worked on.

Perry grabbed the doctor’s arm. “Thank ye,” he rasped.

“You’re welcome.” David rolled Perry onto his side. “But you might feel differently in a few moments.”

11

The driver pulled the team to a stop in front of Hannah’s home, then climbed down and opened the carriage door. Mr. Atherton leaned forward on his seat. “Hannah, I wish you’d reconsider and stay at our place until John returns.”

“I’m fine, truly,” she lied. After what had happened, all Hannah wanted was to stay with the Athertons. But she couldn’t bear the thought of John returning and her not being here.

Mr. Atherton stepped from the carriage and turned to assist her. Taking his hand, she said, “He’ll most likely be back this afternoon.” She managed a smile. “Please don’t worry about me.”

Jackson’s yapping came from inside the barn. “Oh dear! Poor Jackson. I forgot he was locked up.”

“I’ll see to him.”

“Thank you.”

“Well, I’ll have a look about while I’m here.” He raised one eyebrow. “That is, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course not. Thank you.” Hannah moved up the walk toward the house. Memories of the previous evening’s events singed her thoughts, taking her breath from her.

“I’ll go in first.” Mr. Atherton moved past Hannah and onto the porch. He opened the door and stepped inside just as Perry had done.

Hannah felt a flash of alarm and almost called out to him. She stopped and waited, keeping her hands clasped tightly and pressed against her abdomen.

Mr. Atherton returned to the porch. “I think it best that you not stay. There’s quite a mess . . .”

“Perry’s blood,” Hannah stated flatly. “I know.”

“Let me send someone to clean it for you.”

“No. I can do it.” Remembering Perry’s surgery, a flush of pleasure went through Hannah. She’d been a competent assistant to Dr. Gelson. “I’m not afraid of a bit of blood,” she said. Mr. Atherton shrugged and stood aside for her. “You’re a stubborn one, Hannah Bradshaw.”

“I suppose I am, now and again.” She smiled and stepped inside. Her eyes went to the scorched floor and bloodstains, and the frightening experience rushed back at her. She suddenly felt light-headed and overly warm. She pressed a hand against the wall to steady herself.

“Hannah? You all right?”

“Yes. Fine. Just give me a moment.”

“You’re white as a ghost.”

After taking a breath in through her nose and slowly breathing out through her mouth, she felt steadier. “I’m fine.”

William Atherton moved to the bedroom door and glanced inside. “No one here.” He walked to the flight of stairs. “I’ll have a look in the loft.” He carried his tall frame with ease as he climbed the steps. He disappeared, and she heard his footfalls overhead. A few moments later, he stood at the top of the stairs and then headed back down. “It appears you’re quite alone.”

His last words echoed in Hannah’s mind.
Alone. Yes, I’m
alone.

Mr. Atherton took the final step. “It would seem Perry put a scare into that mongrel. I daresay, he’ll not set foot on this property again.” He grinned, but his expression quickly turned sober. “I can understand how it might be difficult for you to be here. You don’t need to be brave, Hannah. And it would give Mrs. Atherton ease to know you’re safe with us.”

Hannah wished she could go with him. The thought of spending a night alone in the house sent a shiver through her, but John was more important than her fears. She must stay in case he returned.

“Thank you, but I want to be here when John gets home.” Hannah felt a flicker of shame. She’d still not told anyone, except Lydia, what had really happened.

“All right, then.” Mr. Atherton moved to the door.

A distressed moo came from the direction of the barn. “Oh, poor Patience. She must be miserable by now.”

“After I have a look around the property and check the barn, I’ll take care of her and leave the milk in the springhouse.” He tipped his hat. “After that, I’ll be on my way.”

“Thank you. I can’t find words to express my gratitude.”

Mr. Atherton stepped onto the porch.

Hannah stood in the doorway. “Mr. Atherton . . . it’s a comfort to know Perry’s being well taken care of.”

“I doubt Gwen will take her eyes off of him, at least until he’s back to himself.” Mr. Atherton grinned. “He’ll mend just fine.” He walked down the steps. “Good day.”

Hannah closed the door and turned to face the empty house and its lingering memories. The room felt cold. “I’d best get a fire going before I do anything else.”