Page 25 of Love and Order

CHAPTER 8

Sunday, June 29, 1873

Between the cool darkness, the earthy scent, and the strips of light showing between the planks above, there was no mistaking his location. Seth’s cellar. How had he gotten here? And when?

Light flooded down the stairs, signaling that the trapdoor was open. With effort, Rion sat up, though the movement brought lancing pain and dizziness.

“What in the name of Juniper?” He probed his shoulder, where most of the pain centered, and found himself shirtless and bandaged. Right. He’d been shot trying to slip out of Cambria Springs and make it back to—

Lu!

Cradling his right arm against his body, he eased to his bare feet. Drawing the wool blanket around his shoulders, he maneuvered around the shelves of jarred and canned goods and made his way upstairs slowly. Weakness pulled at him. Even that little effort drained him. When he reached the third step from the top, he tugged the blanket around him and sat on the floor, legs still inside the opening.

“Well, howdy.” Seth, seated at the table now shoved against the wall, grinned at him over a mug of coffee. Beside him, Lena also smiled. At the other end of table, Lu Peters, dressed in a pretty brown skirt and a white blouse with some sort of delicate pink edging at the cuffs and collar, stared back.

“Howdy.” He couldn’t pull his gaze from the pretty sight of her in her womanly attire.

Lu offered a faint smile, her gaze fixed as well. “Morning.”

“Need help gettin’ to the table?” Seth called.

Eyes still locked on Lu, Rion cocked his head. “How’d I get here?”

“You don’t remember?”

He shook his head.

“From what Lu tells us, you had quite a night.” Lena’s cheery voice didn’t match the hazy images in his mind. “We hear ya nearly got yourself caught in Cambria Springs …”

He recalled that part, and the searing pain of the bullet that knocked him off his feet before he reached Lu and the horses, but after that … only a few ghostly images or recollections.

“We got away, but you were shot, so you pointed and told me Seth and Lena lived up this way. When you passed out, I took the lead and kept going until we stumbled on the posse.”

He swallowed. “We ran into the posse?” How could he not recall that ?

“Not directly. Across the lake.”

The lake … He didn’t recall being near any lake.

Seth cleared his throat. “You know, Gartner Lake, a few miles from here.”

He nodded, eyes pinned on Lu.

She shrugged. “You told me how to reach Seth and Lena’s place, so when you passed out and fell off Trouble partway there, I brought Seth back to get you.”

“You coulda gone for the posse just as easy as here.”

“I could have, but I meant it when I told you I’d help clear your name.”

He heaved a big breath, sending another jolt through his right side. Once it passed, he nodded at her. “Thanks.”

She grinned, and he was caught again by how pretty she looked.

“Did you do something to your hair?”

Her cheeks flushed, adding to her prettiness. “I washed it, let it dry, and pinned it up.”

He was vaguely aware that Lena and Seth exchanged a glance then rose and left the house, shutting the door behind them.

“Looks real nice that way.” With her hair pinned up, she still looked young, but she’d pass for Calliope’s age, at least.

Lu joined him, sitting to his left with her legs dangling into the cellar opening, her knee rubbing against his. “How do you feel?”

“Weak as a newborn kitten.”

Settling her small hand on his forehead, she slid it toward his temple, the gentle touch sending a shock through him like before.

“At least your fever’s gone. You lost a fair amount of blood.”

Lu tried to pull her hand back, but he caught it against his cheek. “Your touch is real soothing.”

After an instant, she pulled away, though he settled his hand near hers in the space between them.

“I suppose that’s a compliment.”

“Did it sound some other way?” He wouldn’t put it past himself, his thoughts addled like they were.

She chuckled. “I’ve had lots of practice. My father was wounded in the war and returned home without the use of his legs. My stepmother, Viola—a selfish, unfaithful woman interested more in Papa’s money than in him—decided caring for a cripple wasn’t the life she wanted. She abandoned us. For nearly three years, I was the only one Papa had, so I became quite adept at wound care and remedies.”

He gaped. “How old were you?”

“Just fifteen when Papa returned. I was nearly eighteen when the first of my brothers returned at the end of the war and took over.”

“I’m sorry.” He squeezed her hand but released it just as quick. “That’s a big burden for a young girl.”

For a moment, she seemed to study their hands there, side by side. “I did what I had to.”

“I’m sure your pa appreciates it.”

“I don’t believe Papa does.”

“Why?” Why wouldn’t he? There’d been no one in Rion’s life to offer gentle ministrations, concern, or soothing words, so Lu’s tenderness was a welcome change.

“Oh, in the midst, Papa accepted my help readily. Even demanded it. I became quite good at anticipating his needs and answering them. Not only did I have to learn wound care and remedies and how to keep him happy, but I also learned how to accomplish things in the dangerous world beyond our door.” She flicked a glance his way, eyes brimming and cheeks flushing. “That’s why I marched into the jail and locked myself in the cell beside you. I long ago found the best way to get what I needed was to make such an annoyance of myself that people would give me what I wanted just to get rid of me.” Her eyes took on a haunted look, and her voice dropped. “Most of the time, it worked.”

He swallowed hard. “What about when it didn’t? Did somethin’ bad happen? Somebody hurt ya?”

“I—” She folded her hands in her lap. “I got in a few scrapes, and there was one very close call, but by the grace of God, I got out of them all.”

She swiped at her cheek, but not before a tear splattered on her brown skirt.

“I’m glad.” He caressed her arm with the back of his hand. The idea of anyone hurting her unsettled him—whether in the past or now.

Especially now.

“Anyway, I don’t think Papa knew how to appreciate my care. He needed me, and I rose to the occasion, but once my brothers returned from war, Papa tried to force me back to my former position.”

“Which was …?”

“Look pretty and attract the eye of a rich businessman Papa could join forces with. Apparently, I was to be married off to cement Papa’s future, with no concern for my desires. But after proving to myself how much I could accomplish with almost nothing, I wasn’t about to go back to being the girl-child raised to be seen, not heard. I didn’t want to be anybody’s pawn. So as Papa and my brothers were negotiating my marital future, I left. I’d survived Kansas during the war while caring for my invalid father. Surely I could survive out here with only myself to care for.”

“You’re brave,” he whispered.

She adjusted her position and smoothed her skirt. “More like stubborn.”

He locked gazes with her. “Tenacious.”

“Bullheaded.” She tapped her chest with a frown.

For an instant, he drank in the pretty hairstyle, the feminine clothes, and the expressive eyes filling with tears again, and then he grasped her hand. “Beautiful.”

She offered him an unsteady smile and settled her hand over his.

The front door squeaked open, and Lena scurried in.

“Sorry to break this up, but y’all need to get in the cellar. Now. The posse’s comin’.”

Lu’s heart, already pounding, beat all the harder as Rion jerked back to look at Lena.

“Go on. Let me get the trapdoor closed and everything back in place.”

Moving carefully, Rion stood and reached for her hand. Lu slipped her fingers into his big palm and followed him.

“Your guns and gear are all down there, Ri. On the shelf nearest the bed.”

“My shirt?”

“It’s beyond repair. You got a spare?”

“I do.”

Lu gasped. “Wait! I need my things!” She dashed up the steps, into the bedroom, and grabbed her skirt, blouse, and petticoats from where Lena had deposited them after a good washing. Returning, she grabbed her journal from the table and rejoined him.

With a solemn nod, Lena lifted the heavy trapdoor from where it was folded back against the floor planks. “Get yourselves hid.”

“What about Trouble and Mischief?”

“Seth got ’em tucked out of sight among his herd up the mountain. Now, go. Hurry. Hide.”

Lena shut the trapdoor, sealing them into darkness. Rion fumbled with something, even as Lena rolled out a rug and moved the table in place above.

Light flared, and Rion cupped a match in his big hands.

“You all right?”

She swallowed, whispering in hopes of hiding her fear. “What if they come down here?”

“They won’t see us.”

“Lena just sealed us in! There’s nowhere to go.”

As the match burned toward his fingers, he touched it to the wick of a lamp on one of the shelves, adjusted the wick, and then padded toward the bed.

“C’mere.” He grabbed his saddlebags, the bag of provisions from Dutch, the canteen, and his gun belt and rifle, and tossed them all on the rumpled bed.

As she approached, he fished a Henley shirt from his saddlebags and pulled it over his head.

Seeing him struggle to get his injured arm into the sleeve, she dumped her things and stopped him, pulled the shirt from over his head, and helped him thread his injured arm through the sleeve first.

“Thanks.” Cheeks flushing, he pulled the shirt on then slipped into his moccasins. He snatched a thick stack of papers from under a couple of cans, rolled them, and tucked them in the bag Dutch had given them. Rion pushed the rifle, the saddlebags, and a blanket into her hands, gathered the rest of their things, and waved.

“Over here.”

Her skin crawled. There was no obvious outlet, but he led her around the staircase to the wall where several big burlap sacks leaned against it.

“Do you trust me?”

She barely knew him. Yet since she’d first made his acquaintance, she’d watched him escape a jail cell with only an improvised rope, rustle up a three-squirrel dinner without firing a shot, escape a band of drunken idiots with guns, and navigate the mountainous terrain while wounded.

“I trust you.”

“All right, then.” He set his things down, lifted two heavy sacks aside, stifling a groan as he did, and revealed an opening with light visible on the other side. Rion extinguished the lamp, then returned.

“We’re gonna hide in here. You’ll have to crawl on your belly for a few feet to make space for me. As little as you are, you ain’t gonna feel too cramped. Me, it’s a tighter fit.”

She peered inside, heart thundering at the cramped quarters.

“You don’t have to crawl all the way through—just enough for me to get in. On the other end, the openin’ is blocked by rocks, but not so blocked you can’t see out. If the tight quarters get to you, you can crawl down there and peek out. But don’t move the rocks. That’s just on the side of the house, and the posse might be swarmin’ around here.”

Above them, muffled voices sounded—Seth’s and another man’s. Sheriff Downing’s, maybe. Whoever it was, the posse—or its representative—had come right up by the house. She couldn’t make out their words, but the tone sounded conversational … for now.

“You go first,” she whispered, pointing toward the hole.

He shook his head. “I’ll need to wrestle the sacks back in place so it ain’t obvious there’s a passage out of the cellar.” He touched her cheek. “Ya just said it yourself—if you could survive wartime Kansas while carin’ for your injured pa, you can do this. You’re brave … and I’ll be right behind ya.”

Oh, Lord Jesus. Why was it easier to believe when looking into his eyes?

She fed their belongings into the hole, then crawled in after them. Inching forward, she eased saddlebags, then rifle and blanket full of her clothes, forward, keeping them from scraping across the floor. Progress was slow in her borrowed skirt, her feet tangling in the fabric repeatedly. As strange as they were, she’d welcome those trousers for this endeavor. Glancing back, she saw Rion slide in feetfirst, as promised.

The narrow channel rose with a slight uphill tilt at first, and when she finally reached a point where the soft glow of morning sunlight greeted her from a small wall of stacked rocks ahead, she stopped.

Her neck and shoulders ached from dragging herself, and the tunnel’s roof was low in places. If she was uncomfortable, how much worse was it for Rion? In the narrowest of places, he might very well have gotten stuck.

Pressing herself to one side, she peered back, though the light didn’t reach him easily.

At one point, she thought she heard the creak of the wooden trapdoor or perhaps the stairs. In response, she recognized the sound of his pistol pulling free of its holster. Her heart pounded, and she eased the rifle up close. Minutes ticked by, and muffled voices sounded behind her—Seth’s and another man’s.

Lord, protect us, please!

The voices faded, and the same wooden creak sounded. For several minutes more, all she heard was a slight shifting on Rion’s part, the heavy exhale of a hurting man.

Lord, is it safe yet?

Dust motes floated in the sunlight trailing in between the stacked rocks ahead. Time stood still, and her mind wandered to what might be on the other side of those rocks.

Freedom.

Fresh air.

Space.

A large shadow.

Her mind snapped to attention, and she squinted at the darkness that had blocked out the sunlight. She gripped the rifle, finger near the trigger guard. She hadn’t asked Rion, nor had she checked for herself to see if the gun was loaded. And there was no use calling back to him for cartridges now.

Lord, protect us. Please.

“Have you found her yet?” The sharp whisper echoed through the passageway at her.

“Still lookin’.”

The whispery voice swore, and a scuffle ensued. “Tell me again how you lost a crippled woman! An injured crippled woman, at that!”

Her jaw hinged open. Oh, Lord! They mean Hattie Ingram! She was still alive? Save her, Father, please.

More swearing from the other voice. “Quit pushin’ me around.”

Father, who are these people?

As quietly as possible, she inched toward the tunnel’s end.

“I’ll do more than push you ’round if you don’t find her and finish her.”

“What do you think I’m doin’?”

“Not enough, you fool. Now get out of here, before you’re seen.”

One of them hissed another bitter curse, and before she could reach the wall of rocks and peek through one of the openings, the shadow disappeared, allowing the light to stream back in. She squinted, momentarily blinded.

By the time her eyes adjusted, hoofbeats retreated in two different directions—some toward the front of the house, and some toward the back.

And she’d seen exactly nothing!