Her expression hardened. Anger danced in her eyes. He ignored it all.
“You actually believe they won’t let the others go if you surrender? Anders and Brown are the examples for the community. You’d just be icing on the cake.” His jaw tightened. “Who’s to say that they’ll put a rope around your neck? Maybe they’ll decide that the breeding plantation is the best place for you after all. A live, capable body is more profitable than a dead one.”
“Don’t.” She tugged, trying hard to free herself of his gripping hold.
“I bet you never thought of that. No, I can see from the fear and disgust in your eyes that it never crossed your mind.”
Tears streamed down her milk chocolate cheeks. She swirled away from him. Her shoulders shook violently. Sobs filled the room, and he went to her. Tentatively, he rested his hands on her shoulders. She tensed upon first contact, but when he didn’t release her, she slowly relaxed. Eventually, he curved his arms around her waist. Her shaking back leaned against his chest until her sobs became quiet.
“There’s always another way,” he murmured near her ear, “around an obstacle. I learned that in football, and the same is true for real life. The watch sent me to you, practically at your feet. I know it wasn’t to watch you die.”
“I don’t know what else to do. Reuniting Big Nat with his children wasn’t supposed to end like this.”
“It’s not over, yet. We can find a solution. I thought you trusted me.”
She hiccupped once. “I do trust you.”
“Prove it.” He turned her around to face him. His thumbs wiped the wetness from her face.
“How?”
“Give me time to come up with a way to free them.”
She frowned. “They don’t have much time. The pro-slavery crowd is clamoring for their justice to be served. They want to show everyone what happens when white men help slaves run away.”
Thor closed his eyes for a moment and nodded. “I know. It’s gonna get worse before it gets better, but I know there’s a way Anders and Brown can be saved. Trust me to find it.”
Indecision marked her features. Thor read the uncertainty in her eyes. Finally, she shrugged and smiled. “I trust you, Thor.”
Those words filled him like manna from Heaven. He crushed her inside his arms and hugged her. He never realized that her trust in him meant so much.
Chapter Fifteen
“How long will it take?” Willow watched Thor as he looked around the room.
“I’m not sure,” he said. “Probably not long. Do you have anything I can write with? A slate would work.”
“Yes,” she answered. “It’s in my room.”
She turned away from him, and she felt him move behind her. Her pulse raced unexpectedly. Reverend Brown was the only man to come into her bedroom. Having Thor right on her heels as she crossed the threshold felt intimate and reminded her of the passion they shared only a short while ago.
Sharing herself with a man without benefit of marriage was something she never imagined wanting to do. She never thought she would want to be with anyone that way. Love never crossed her mind, so neither did marriage. Not until Thor entered her world. She was not foolish enough to think he’d propose marriage, but she couldn’t ignore the love she felt in her heart whenever she looked at him.
She glanced over her shoulder. He stood near the door, the expression on his face was uncertain. Perhaps he was hesitant about entering her room. She beckoned. Uncertainty fled from his face. A warm smile touched his lips as he stepped forward. Intense heat flared inside her. Her flesh tingled just from looking at him.
Willow opened the trunk at the foot of her bed. The large wooden chest contained only a few keepsakes. The slate and chalk rested on top her parents’ quilt. She handed him the writing utensils. “I hope this helps.”
“Thanks.”
Their fingers touched. Excitement rippled from her fingertips to every nerve in her body. Invisible warmth connected them. Passion and its desire for fulfillment threatened to re-ignite. The realization shook her to the core.
Without a word, he took her hand and led them from her bedroom to the dining table in the front room.
“The temptation was killing me.”
The confession left Willow speechless. Should she confess that the mere touch of his skin on hers made her long for their bodies to join as one again? Should she tell him that the future seemed hopeful whenever he smiled at her?
She already confessed too much in the letters she wrote to him, thinking she would never see him again. In an unguarded moment, she admitted the depth of emotion she felt for him. Surely, he wouldn’t expect her to tell him more.
The light in his eyes seemed to dim as the seconds passed, and they stared at each other. His lips parted as if he would speak, but he slowly closed them shut. He released her hand and moved to the table. He set the slate before him, closed his right hand around the chalk, and promptly went to work.
A wealth of troubles made her rich, it seemed. Thor was upset, and she didn’t doubt it was something she did. He must have read her eyes and guessed her thoughts. When the words of love fell from her lips, she was not so overcome with passion to notice that he hadn’t said the same. Not that she expected him to. He found her beautiful, intelligent, and he cared for her. None of that meant he loved her.
I’m thankful for it
, she told herself. Desire would fare him better than love, and she would do best to remember the same. The realization should have empowered her, but all she felt was sad. Releasing a deep sigh, she turned away from him.
“Willow, could you come here?”
She went to him and looked at the slate. It was void of words or drawings, but the chalk on the sleeve of his shirt gave evidence of his work. Her eyebrows lifted inquiringly. “Yes?”
“Do you know where they’re holding Brown and Anders?”
“Yes, at the jail in Canton. The sheriff is holding them until the justice comes to town…provided that Davis doesn’t force his hand.”
He grabbed the back of the chair closest to him and pulled it from the table. He patted the seat. “Sit down. I need you to describe the building for me.”
She sat beside him and tried her best to ignore his pine-coated scent or the way the silky brown hairs dusted his forearm. With the pad of her index finger, she edged the spectacles up the bridge of her nose and directed her gaze to the empty slate. “What do you need to know?”
“How big is it? Does it have two stories or one? How many windows? Is there more than one exit?”
Her eyes widened. He wanted to know everything! She swallowed hard, and her brows knit into a frown. “I have never been inside. We’ve passed it in town, and once the reverend went inside to speak with the sheriff. Miss Olivia and I waited for him on the wagon.”
“What could you see from outside? How tall is it?”
“Oh, well, the building is only one story tall. It looked to be slightly larger than Miss Eva’s cabin. There are two pane-glassed windows in the front, and another on the south side. I don’t know if there are more.”
Thor drew lines onto the slate. The outline of the jail began to take shape, and Willow admired his artistic ability.
“Does this look about right? What about the exits? Is there more than one door?”
Stray tendrils brushed her cheeks as she shook her head. “I’m not sure about that. I only saw one. There could be a back door, but I don’t know.”
He slid the slate across the table to her. “Do you know where the jail cell is? This is the front.” He indicated with his forefinger. “The back is here. Did Brown ever say?”
“I can’t say for sure, but I think the cell is here.”
He nodded and retrieved the slate. Chalk screeched on the slate as he quickly revised his drawing. “Does the sheriff have help? Any deputies?”
“Sometimes his son helps him, but I think he moved to South Carolina. From what Miss Olivia has told me, Davis and his men are standing guard at the jailhouse, too. They have guns and rifles with them.”
“How many men does he have with him?”
“I don’t know. She never said.”
“That’s okay. I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”
“What do you aim to do?” She glanced from the drawing to him. “Do you mean to sneak inside?”
Lines in the corner of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “That’s the plan. Did Olivia ever say how many men were helping Davis?”
Expectation transformed to worry. She didn’t like the idea of Thor going against those men without help. Truth be told, even if he had help, she wouldn’t want him to risk his life. “She didn’t say, but I reckon they’re the same ones who hunted Big Nat down. Don’t forget they have rifles. You can’t take on all those men by yourself.”
“You were aiming to.”
“I was wrong about that.”
“You were,” he said with calm assurance. “Promise me you won’t change your mind and run out as soon as my back is turned.”
“I would never do that!”
His mouth quirked. “You tried to do it before.”
His hand closed over hers, trapping them on the table. His thumbs drew tiny circles on the back of her hands. Her insides quivered and her anger dimmed. Surely, it was sinful how her body and mind betrayed her at the simplest turn.
Blessed be!
Only his hands touched her. Why was she so powerless to resist him?
“I won’t.” Willow sucked in a deep breath and inclined her head in a slight nod. “I promise.”
His responding smile squeezed her heart. She offered him a faint smile, and he released her and turned back to his drawing.
The scratchy whispers of chalk on slate filled the cabin. Willow paced the floor, pausing to glance at the clock on the mantle, and Thor’s hunched shoulders. He appeared to be deep in thought, but time was passing them by. Only God knew if the justice had arrived and Anders and Brown’s fate was already decided.
She crossed the room in long strides and stood just behind Thor. He didn’t react as she peered over his shoulder, and she doubted if he remembered she was still in the room. His right hand moved the chalk rapidly over the slate. Tiny circles and small x’s filled the lower half of the hand-held chalkboard. He drew lines from the circles and the x’s toward the outline of the jailhouse. It all looked like child’s play to her. How could they use that nonsense to rescue Mr. Anders and the reverend?
The question lay on the tip of her tongue, but Willow held back. She and Thor already had their fair share of disagreements. Laying the groundwork for another one served no purpose. She moved to the rocking chair near the fireplace and waited. An act of trust had never been more difficult.
* * *
“If Hammond is willing to help, this should work perfectly.” Thor admired the play he’d written on the slate. There were a few kinks needing adjustment, considering he was not sure where the cell actually was and whether or not there was a rear exit, but overall, the plan was a damn good one.
He expected Willow to check out what he had done. She peered over his shoulder once before, and it took all his restraint to not lean against her softness.
Time for that will come later
, he advised his raging hormones. The promise of fulfillment banked his desire somewhat, and he finished writing the play a minute or two later. He frowned. Why hadn’t she responded?
Grabbing the slate, he stood. The open window caught his attention. Daylight was beginning to fade. In order for his plan to work, he needed to arrive before it was too dark.
“Willow…” He turned as her name fell from his mouth.
At first, his gaze rolled past the rocking chair. She sat so still. Had she fallen asleep? The last few days hadn’t been easy for any of them. A mountain of guilt weighed heavy on her shoulders. If only he could make her understand, none of this was her fault. Compassion as fierce as hers had no business suffering regret.
He edged closer. To his surprise, she opened her eyes wide. The spectacles lay forgotten in her hands. Sorrow dulled the softness of her expression.
Witnessing her open emotions humbled him. He coughed once to get her attention. Luminous black eyes captured his. She didn’t bother to mask her fears. They remained, unchanged.
“I finished.” He placed the slate on her lap. Urgency took a big leap inside his gut. His jailbreak plan was foolproof.
“What is it?” She pushed the eyeglasses onto the bridge of her nose. “It almost looks like tic tac toe.”
“That’s close. It’s a game plan, like what I used in football.”
“I don’t understand.”
“These are the men guarding the jail.” He pointed to the symbols on the slate. “Hammond and the other men will distract them, and I’ll move in here.”
Lines darkened her brow. “Are you sure this will work?”
“Sure? No, I’m not sure, but I have to try something. This is better than nothing. If it all goes according to plan, no one will get hurt.”
She studied the slate a few moments longer. “I suppose anything is possible.”
“Yeah.” Her lack of enthusiasm nagged at him. He refused to let insecurities set in now. His family was counting on him. The plan had to work.