Her eyes were deeper than the depth
of waters still’d at evening.
—DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI
Nothing came from the pistol but a noise hardly as loud as a firecracker. Lauralee stared down at the firearm, stunned. It had misfired. When she had finally been given the opportunity to avenge her mother’s death, the damn Yankee’s pistol hadn’t worked!
She looked quickly up and watched the man disappear around a street corner on his horse. She threw the pistol down and stamped a foot, then turned and ran back inside the hospital.
When she reached Nancy’s room she didn’t stop to knock. She ran on inside.
Her sudden noisy entrance caused Abner to rise quickly from his chair at Nancy’s bedside. He went to Lauralee and placed gentle hands on her arms and gazed down at her questioningly. She seemed desperate about something. She was breathless. She was flushed. Her eyes were wildly pleading up at him.
“Whatever has happened?” Abner said, searching her face. “Is it the Cherokee? Has he worsened?”
“No,” she blurted out. She pointed toward the door. “Uncle Abner. I saw him. I saw him.”
“You saw Dancing Cloud?” Abner said, arching an eyebrow.
“No,” Lauralee cried. “I saw the man . . . who . . . raped and killed my mother. I’m certain it was he. I’ve carried that man’s face around with me since I was five. Uncle Abner, he was here. He was entering the hospital. When he saw me it was as though he knew me. He grabbed me. He was abducting me.”
She had to stop to get her breath.
“Abduct you?” Abner said, dropping his hands to his sides. “Your mother was raped? The same man killed your mother? He’s here now?”
Afraid that she was going to upset Nancy, Lauralee looked past Abner and found Nancy’s soft, brown eyes on her.
But she had to place her worries about Nancy behind her. She had to get her uncle to go after the man. If he got away, Lauralee would never find him again.
“And, Uncle Abner, I believe this was the same man who also shot Dancing Cloud!” she blurted out. “Dancing Cloud said that his assailant had a wooden leg. This man had a wooden leg!”
She grabbed her uncle’s hand before he had a chance to respond to what she had just disclosed. “Let’s go after him, Uncle Abner,” Lauralee pleaded, yanking on his hand. “Please? Now? If we wait longer we’ll never be able to catch up with him.”
“Whoa, slow down a minute,” Abner said, leading Lauralee to a chair.
By no choice of her own she sat down. Her fingers dug into the arms of the chair so hard her knuckles were white.
Abner knelt on a knee before her. “Now tell me about the man,” he said softly. “Describe him to me. Then we’ll go to the sheriff and let him take care of this for you. We’ll talk about your mother later. Your aunt and I want to know everything.”
“He’ll get away if we wait any time at all,” Lauralee said, her voice breaking. “Please, Uncle Abner. I know which way he went. Please let us go after him.”
“Describe him to me,” Abner said, ignoring her insistence to do otherwise.
Lauralee inhaled a quavering, frustrated breath. “He has bright red hair and cold blue eyes,” she said. “He was a man with much standing during the war. He led a regiment of men. He was in charge of everything that happened at my parents’ plantation. He made sure nothing was left behind . . . except me. And that was only because I knew to hide from the Yankees.”
Abner rose to his full height. He stared down at Nancy. “You know who fits that description?” he said, his voice drawn, as though in total of awe of such a discovery. “That damn son of a bitch.”
“That railroad man from North Carolina. Clint McCloud,” Nancy offered softly. “Surely she has described Clint McCloud.”
“The one and only,” Abner said, turning to gaze down at Lauralee again.
“Yes,” Lauralee said excitedly. “I’m sure it was Clint McCloud. Dancing Cloud said that was his assailant’s name!”
“Come on, honey,” Abner said, slipping his hand from hers. “I think I will oblige you the opportunity to meet up with this fella again. We shall surprise him at his hotel before he gets the chance to pack up and leave town.”
“You aren’t going to the sheriff?” Lauralee asked, scrambling to her feet.
“No, like you, I doubt if we have the time,” Abner said, placing a hand to Lauralee’s elbow. “Although I’m sure Clint doesn’t know that you know his name, he knows you’ll be able to describe him. If we take the time to go to the sheriff, the damn railroad man will have already skipped town.”