“All right. At least we won’t have to worry that those three buffoons will creep up on us. You know, James, we could get them now. What do you think?”
He shook his head. “Too much risk.” Then he stopped cold. “If we could get Augie, maybe we could make him tell us who paid him to kidnap me.”
Her eyes shone even as she was blinking furiously to keep from being blinded by the rain. “They certainly won’t be expecting us, now will they?”
Lightning struck again and they heard a man yell.
“Let’s go, Corrie. We certainly can’t get any wetter than we are now, well, not much more.”
They ran out of the woods and down the road after their villains, rain lashing against their faces, no moon now, only bloated black clouds. They could barely see the road ten feet ahead of them.
They came upon them quickly since Billy’s foot was evidently hurting him, and Augie and Ben had to support him, Ben with only one good arm.
They slowed, listening to the men cursing.
“I never heard that word, James. What does-”
“Be quiet. Don’t you ever say that word, you understand me?”
Corrie wiped her hand over her eyes and shoved her hair back from her face. “But it sounded like tit-”
“Be quiet. Now, here’s what we’re going to do.”
Three minutes later, James moved quite close to the three, raised his gun, and fired directly at Augie’s arm. A shot and a yell and more cursing.
As James thought, Ben dropped Billy to the ground, and Augie didn’t know whether to grab his arm or draw his gun, and so he did both. The shot brought down a tree branch. Billy, hobbling, and Ben holding his arm, went for the underbrush.
They’d disabled all three of them.
“Drop the gun, Augie,” James called out, “or the next bullet will be through your head. I have two guns, you know, so don’t doubt me.”
“Young ’un! Is that really you?” Augie’s hand was protecting his eyes, desperately trying to see James through the heavy rain. “Why would you want to shoot ole Augie now? I ain’t done nothin’ really bad to ye-not even wot I was paid to do-I jest worried ye a bit, gave ye jest a bit of a tap.”
“Drop the gun, Augie, this is the last time I’ll tell you.”
Augie dropped the gun, although the chances were good that it had held only one bullet and was now quite empty. But better not to take any chances.
“Good. Now, Augie, I’ll not put a bullet in your head if you tell me the man’s name who hired the three of you to kidnap me.”
Augie, despite the rain, tugged on his ear, sent curses toward his feet, then sighed. “A man’s got to guard ’is reputation, lad. If I tells ye ’is name, me reputation will be in the dirt.”
“At least you’ll be alive.”
James aimed the gun at Augie’s head.
“No, ye can’t do that, can ye?-jest shoot me in the noggin’ like I was a bad man-well, niver ye mind about that. No, don’t shoot me. Well, damnation. Aw right, the bloke wot gave us the blunt, ’e said ’is name was Douglas Sherbrooke. Niver ’eard that name afore, so’s I can’t tell ye who the cove is. Now ye won’t shoot me, will ye, young ’un?”
Both James and Corrie gaped at him. Corrie said, “But that doesn’t make sense, James.”
“As a twisted jest, it makes perfect sense.”
“How old was this man, Augie?”
“A young ’un, jest like ye are, me lord. Hey, I heard that little gal’s voice. I wants to wallop that little gal’s arse but good. Ruined it all fer us, she did. Nearly burned down that lovely cottage and stuck that bloody pitchfork into Ben’s arm. Not a lady, she ain’t, a real disgrace to her folks, I’d say, going out like that without no chaperone, wearing white to make us think she were a ghost. As fer the ’orses, wot she did ain’t-”
“Stop whining, Augie. She got you fair and square. If you don’t think she’s a lady, you can call her my white knight,” James said.
“It’s a disgrace, it is, ’er doin that to three growed men. Meybe if she’d been me kid, I could o’ taught her how to nobble ye fine lords, nip groats right out of yer pockets, ye niver the wiser. Ye got guts, little gal, not much brain since ye rode that nag right into the cottage, but ye got guts, lots o’ guts.”