The man blinked and turned his head as if somehow he didn’t understand a word she’d spoken. “Your father wants to see you well cared for, Anna. Can you not see that? That is why I followed you here. To bring you home.”
Like the doe she’d seen moments before, Anna dashed into the wood, the low bushes scraping her stockings as she lifted her skirts to run.
“Anna!” The man called after her and seconds later his heavy footfalls were directly behind.
His hand grabbed her shoulder and she tripped, falling to the ground with a scream. “Get off of me! Let me go!” She kicked and clawed, but her struggle did nothing. He was too strong. In a swift, smooth movement he scooped her up and carried her over his shoulder. “I wish you could understand. What I am doing for you is the best.” His voice sounded unstrained as if he carried a small child.
She screamed again. “Help me! Someone help!” But she knew there was no one.
They reached the carriage again, and her muscles cramped with surging panic. She yanked his queue, and he groaned as his neck arched back.
He dropped her with a growl.
“Help!” She scrambled to her feet, but he grabbed her around the shoulders from behind with a grip of iron. He whispered into her ear with heated breath. “You are coming with me. There is no other choice.”
“Please…” She calmed herself, tugging on his arm. “Please, I beg of you, sir. Do not do this. Let me go. If you knew my mother then you knew she wouldn’t want me to marry into a life so void of happiness.”
He stilled and the hard grip loosed. “She would want you to be safe, Anna. You will not find safety here.” The tightness returned. “Which is why I must insist that you come with me.”
She screamed and writhed with every force within her.
“Stop your screaming, I beg of you.”
“Never!” Scratching and kicking she fought like a trapped animal.
With his one free hand, he produced a large handkerchief and shoved her to the ground. “Forgive me child, you must believe I do not wish to do this.”
He pushed her to the ground, and Anna let out a piercing wail before he tied a gag around her mouth.
~~~
Inside the cabin that had become his solitary confinement since the day he raced to the safety of its walls, Henry rested on one of two chairs in the room and fooled with the fresh bandage on his wound. The continuous throbbing and periodic shots of pain that raced up and down his arm took most of his attention. At least the flow had stemmed somewhat. He still needed a doctor’s care…
Henry glanced to the shelf above the fire then to the loft where he’d found the trunk, and the sheet he’d used for bandages. ’Twas adequate for now, but he needed more—he needed food. He’d eaten the bit of pemmican he’d hidden in his pocket, and now his stomach groaned with every passing hour.
With a flick of his gaze he eyed the small pot resting beside the fireplace. Having checked the contents the first night, his imagination bloomed and his mouth salivated. There was flour beneath its wooden lid. Ash cakes were simple and would fill his aching middle, yet taking what was not his would go against the very center of his being. He rubbed the wound on his arm. While the sheet had been a necessity, eating could wait. Though he feared he could not wait much longer.
He stood and went to the window. This sanctuary had served its purpose, but staying hidden from the world wasn’t possible even if he wished it. Which he did not. The regiment was far from here by now, and if he did happen upon another he would be unknown to them. He hoped.
Henry put a hand to his head and rubbed the pain that radiated from the back of his eyes. Every plan he’d devised fell flat when compared to the one that continued to rise to the top of his mind. He must go to Sandwich. Not only for the doctoring that his friend Nathaniel Smith could provide, but also for the sanctuary he would find among friends.
The breeze stiffened and he peered from the window, noting how the branches of the trees swayed deeper against the wind. A storm would be here before nightfall. God willing, it would pass by morning and he could travel the twenty miles to the small seaside town.
Just then a cry struck the air and Henry stilled. A voice. He turned in the direction of the sound, squinting and straining his ears. After another moment of silence he shook his head. Nay. He’d imagined it.
When his stomach growled again he turned to the pot and gnawed on the inside of his cheek. He could find a way to pay back what little he took, should the owner return, couldn’t he? He almost laughed. From the look of things the likelihood of their return was minimal to none. Better to use it than let it go to waste—
A woman’s scream shot through the walls of the cabin and Henry jerked. It had not been imagined. Another wail struck the air. Henry’s instinct consumed him, and he raced for the wood. She yelled again. Anger surged and his training hurled to the forefront of his mind. How many were there? How were they armed? Could he defend himself and the victim should they be out numbered? Suddenly a thought assailed him so hard his pace slowed. This could be a trap. Paul knew him well enough to know that should any person cry for help he would come to their aid.
When the woman cried out again Henry put all his force in his legs. That was a risk he must take. Jumping over branches and dodging bushes, he followed the sound of her cries until he burst from the trees, whipping Paul’s unused pistol from his side.
“Get up now!” he roared, the weapon pointed at the attacker’s head. He shot his gaze to the pinned woman, her eyes round and expression gripped with fear.
The attacker froze. He dropped the gag he’d held against the woman’s mouth. “I am not a criminal. This is not as it seems.”
In the half second it took to take in the scene, Henry interpreted every emotion in the woman’s face. “Move away from her or I will shoot you where you kneel.”
Scrambling to his feet, the man patted the air in front of him as if Henry were a wild animal and he the tamer. “Listen to me. This woman is in my care and I am trying to—”