Chase the Wind (9 page)

“Is there any place around here where we can take shelter?” he asked Faith over his shoulder. She raised her head to get her bearings. He heard her talking, but the wind snatched the words away before he could hear them. She finally pointed to a cutoff to the
right and he took it. The path led them into a tunnel of trees. The
rain let up a bit, but the wind howled through the passage with a
vengeance. The limbs above them swayed and creaked, and the
gray danced a bit when a wayward branch landed on his rump. The path opened into a clearing, and Ian made out the remains of
a barn when a bolt of lightning lit the sky. He dismounted and led the gray to the leaning structure. One wall was completely gone,
causing the other three to lean in at odd angles. He led the gray
into the opening. Faith having to duck down over his neck to make
it safely in. Ian reached up to help her down, and noticed she was
smiling when another bolt of lightning ripped through the sky.

“What is this place?” he asked above the roar of the rain.

“My mother had a friend who lived here. We used to visit when
I was small,” Faith explained. “The lady died when her cabin
burned—I was ten, I think.”

“Does anyone know about this place?” Ian asked. He was briskly
rubbing Faith’s arms to keep her warm.

“I don’t think so; it’s pretty much been forgotten.”

“We can’t stay here long; we have to move on before they get all
the roads covered.”

Faith nodded in agreement. Her teeth were chattering, and she leaned her head against Ian’s chest. “You know I am supposed to
get married tomorrow,” she said into his damp shirt.

“I guess I showed up just in time, then,” he replied.

“To stop it?” she asked, looking up at his face in the darkened
barn.

“To be the groom. You weren’t planning on it being someone
else, were you?” She caught the flash of his cocky grin in the dark
ness. He lowered his head and kissed her, and all the emotion she
had held in check flooded to the surface.

“Oh, Ian, I had to send you away. They were going to kill you.”
The words were followed by small, shuddering sobs. “They found
out about us, and Randolph had hired men to get you, but he wanted to kill you himself, and my father sold me to him to get
out of debt, only he’s really not my father, and I realized I couldn’t
marry”—a big sob came out—”and I had to get to you—” Ian
pushed her head back into his chest. He was so soaked, a few tears
wouldn’t matter.

“How did they find out?” he asked.

“I heard Randolph tell”—she couldn’t call the man Father—
“Melvin.” The name sounded obscene to her. “He heard you talking
to your horse about us.”

Ian looked at her incredulously, and then his mind flashed back
to a stall and a tall chestnut he was brushing and a noise he heard
in the stable that day.

“Faith, I am so sorry. I am an idiot at times, especially around
my animals.”

“I was just so afraid they were going to kill you.”

“They nearly did,” he said, remembering the rest of that day.

“They did?” She sobbed again, “Oh, Ian.”

“Don’t worry, I survived. Besides, only the good die young,
haven’t you ever heard that?”

“That’s what scares me so.” He pulled her close again. The storm
was now directly over them, the thunder coming so fast that it was impossible to talk. The wind shook the old timbers, and Ian surveyed the rafters, wondering how much abuse the old place could
stand. They stood together in the barn, Ian holding Faith close,
stroking her hair. The gray sidled up to Ian’s back, he too wanted
the comfort of the man.

When the lightning seemed to have moved off a bit and the thunder didn’t sound like it was on top of them, they emerged
from the rickety shelter. The rain was still falling, but they could travel. They needed to cross the river before they were found. Ian didn’t even want to think about what all this rain was doing to the waters of the Ohio. He just knew they needed to get across. Then
maybe he could breathe easier. There was no doubt in his mind
about what would happen if they were caught.

They made their way back up the trail and were soon halted by a tree that had fallen across the path. Ian backed the gray up and sent him into the underbrush towards the trunk end to get around
the mess. They floundered about a bit, and then found the path
again. They soon were on the road, heading north to the ferry that would take them across to Ohio and safety. Ian regretted running the gray so hard, but felt that the need to escape was greater than
the need for caution. Faith clung to his waist, her face buried
against his shoulder, his wide frame protecting her from the rain
that pelted his face.

Ian saw lights shining up ahead. He hoped it was a sign that
they had come to the small river town that was home to the ferry.
That hope turned to dismay when he saw a group of men on horseback holding torches and sheltered under the limbs of a
sprawling oak next to the road.

The men came out to meet him. He touched his heels to the gray’s flanks and the horse burst though the mob, scattering the group in all directions. Faith held on for dear life. Ian heard the sound of pursuit behind. He leaned over the gray’s neck, Faith leaning with him, and looked back under his arm.

It was Mason. The big hooves of Armageddon were eating up the road, quickly closing the distance between them. The gray was no match. He was tired and he was carrying two on a wet track. Armageddon was in his element; he was born and bred for conditions such as this. Ian knew he had to stop and fight. He reached his arm back and wrapped it around Faith’s waist.

“When we stop, you run.”

“No!” she screamed in his ear. Ian pulled up on the reins with his left hand and swung Faith to the ground with his right.

“Run!” he yelled at the top of his lungs. He wheeled the gray around and kicked him towards the big black that was looming up on them before Faith hit the ground. She dashed into the woods by the road and took shelter behind a tree. Ian could practically see the smile on Mason’s face as he headed Armageddon right for them. Ian knew his gray couldn’t survive a full charge from the animal. At the last minute he flexed his right knee and the gray turned from the charge. Ian leaned into Mason as he passed by and pulled him off the back of his horse, both of them going down into the muddy road. They struggled to get a hold on each other, rolling around in the mud, each looking for an opening.

“She’s mine,” Mason ground out as he went for Ian’s throat with his meaty hands.

“She doesn’t belong to anyone but herself,” Ian returned as he pushed Mason away with a forearm. Ian rolled out from under Mason’s body and staggered to his feet, the mud clinging to him, sucking against him. Mason reached out a hand and tripped Ian, and he went down on his hands and knees. Mason made to grab Ian’s waist, but Ian slipped away, rolling. Mason lurched after him.

Faith came out of her hiding place and grabbed the reins of the gray. Both men were so covered with mud that the only way she could tell them apart was by their builds. Ian was leaner and taller than Mason, while Mason had a good thirty to forty pounds more on his frame. She anxiously watched the men rolling and slipping, as neither one could press an advantage. She frantically wondered what she could do to help Ian, but realized that if Mason got his
hands on her it would seriously jeopardize their escape. If only she
had a weapon . ..

Ian had a gun. She had seen it the night he had put Katrina down. She began to search his saddlebags, sticking her hand in one to see if she could feel anything. It wasn’t there, so she tried
the other side, the gray dancing away from her as the fighters rolled
under his forelegs. She jerked him around and began to search the
other saddlebag; Her hand closed around the cold, hard barrel at
the same time that she felt something else cold and hard pressed
against her back.

“I should have killed you along with your mother.’ It was the
man she had referred to as her father all these years.

Faith leaned her head against the gray, her hand still in the bag. “You killed my mother?” she said in an icy voice.

“Yes. I pushed her down the stairs. I needed to find a new wife
with some money, and hers had run out.”

While the voice belonged to the man Faith knew as Melvin Tay
lor, the tone was one she had never heard before. It was the voice of one who would do anything to get what he wanted. “Now step away from that horse. We’ve got to get you home for your wed
ding.”

“I am not going to marry Randolph Mason,” she said between gritted teeth. She pulled the gun out of the bag and in one motion swung around and struck Taylor in the jaw with it. The man staggered back, his gun flying out of his hands into the muck. She hit
him again, this time sending him into the mud with his weapon.

She turned to focus on the fight. Mason had used his greater weight to force Ian onto his back, his hands wrapped around his
neck, choking him. Faith raised the gun and fired.

The bullet hit Mason in the right shoulder, the impact sending him off Ian and onto the ground. He clutched his shoulder and rolled in agony. Ian staggered to his feet, trying to draw air into
his bruised throat.

“I’ll get you for this,” Mason gasped. His right arm was hanging
uselessly at his side; the bullet must have broken a bone.

Faith ran to Ian, throwing her arms around his waist. Ian
grabbed her shoulders and turned her to the horse.

“If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll hunt you down and make you pay,”
Mason growled as he climbed to his feet, still clutching his shoul
der.

Ian mounted and swung Faith up behind him.

“No matter where you go, you won’t be safe!” Mason was scream
ing at them now.

Ian stopped the horse by Mason. “She chooses me,” he said
calmly. “If you come after us, I’ll kill you.”

“You won’t see me coming,” Mason screamed. Ian kicked the gray with his heels and they took off toward the ferry.

Chapter Six

The ferry master looked at them in disbelief when the mud-covered couple begged to be taken across. The storm had made the waters of the Ohio swirl and turn, so passage would be hazardous at best. It wasn’t until the young woman with the pale blue eyes laid her hand on his arm and said, “Please, sir, it means everything to us,” that he agreed. He shook his head as he swung the boat out into the river. The couple just stood with their arms around each other, the horse hanging his head over the man’s shoulder, the three of them seeking comfort from each other. They were quite a bedraggled sight. The captain wondered what had made them take flight on a night like this. It probably was best that he did not know. The ferry dipped and lurched in the raging waters, taking every bit of his strength and knowledge to keep the course straight and true. The couple still stood, wrapped in each other’s arms. The horse seemed a bit nervous with the water swirling around, but the man stood tall and spoke soothing words to the animal. When the ferry finally came to a halt against the bank, the couple hesitated. It seemed they didn’t know what to do next.

“Do you need some shelter for the night?” the ferry master asked. “I’m goin’ to my sister’s, you’re welcome to come along.” There was something about these two that had struck a chord in his heart.

Ian looked down at Faith, who wearily nodded. “That would be very nice,” he said. “I could pay her for a bed and bath.”

“I’ll let you work that out with her,” the man replied. “Come along; let’s get out of this weather.”

Ian and Faith followed the man, leading the horse with them. They walked a few blocks through the town, Faith wearily wondering if she would ever be dry again. The rain had washed most of the mud off of Ian, but he was still in sore need of a bath. They soon came to a cheerfully lit cottage. The man led them around to the back and directed Ian to a shed where he could bed the horse. He guided Faith to the back door, where a well-rounded woman stood with a lantern in her hand.

“Jonas, I can’t believe you made the crossing in this weather,” she scolded.

“At the time it seemed like the right thing to do,” he replied dryly. “I’ve brought you some company.”

The woman held her lantern up to Faith’s face and immediately started fussing over her like a mother hen. “Oh, you poor thing, what are you doing out on a night like tonight? Get in this house and let me get you dried off.” She took Faith’s arm and led her into the kitchen, where a huge pot of soup was bubbling merrily on the stove. Faith stood in the middle of the room, blinking like an owl.