Contagious Smile
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The next morning, a light fog still clung to the ground. The sun hadn’t yet risen above the horizon and there was no sign of life in town. A few houses were visible through the mist. It wasn’t until I glanced back at the ranch that I realized how far we had come.
We could be miles from any other habitation. There would be no one to see me if my disguise failed. No one would know what happened here—if it did happen. My heart pounded as I looked down at my dress. Was this really what I wanted?
Did I have a right to expose myself like this? What about Tom’s wife and child? Couldn’t they just stay where they belonged instead of coming out into the open to find trouble? I couldn’t leave them alone with their problems while I ran away with my own. I’d already been selfish enough by running away to marry a stranger.
And now I was asking for more pain. But what else could I do? How long could I sit around waiting for something good to happen to someone who didn’t deserve anything good to happen to him?
“We can’t stop,” I whispered. “Not here.”
Tom’s head shot up when he heard the horses snort. He turned his gaze toward the ranch house. He took a step forward but stopped when he saw us. His eyes widened as he watched me dismount and approach the door. I held my breath as I waited for an answer.
Would Tom call for help? Should I go inside without speaking to anyone first or should I wait outside on the porch? If Tom called for help, I’d never get another chance. If Tom refused to let us in, then I’d just have to try again later.
I decided not to worry over things I couldn’t change. This was either going to work or it wouldn’t. Either way, I had to take some action. I knocked. After a moment, the door opened.
I gasped when I stepped onto the porch and found myself face-to-face with Mrs. Kelly. She stared at me for several seconds before she spoke. Her voice sounded like she swallowed gravel. “What are you doing here?”
It seemed impossible that she could look so much different than she did yesterday. Maybe her husband wasn’t lying after all. I’d assumed she knew exactly who I was since she claimed to recognize me the day before, but maybe she didn’t remember me because she’d never seen me before.
Or maybe she didn’t want to remember. In her eyes, I saw nothing but hatred. Why would anyone hate me so much? Had I done something terrible? Was this why Tom had sent me away?
Mrs. Kelly must’ve noticed Tom’s surprise too. She said, “Who is your friend?”
“He doesn’t need to explain himself,” Tom answered gruffly. “You’re under arrest.”
His words startled me. I didn’t know what he meant by arresting us. Arrested for what? I felt a sense of dread sweep over me. Was this the end of everything? Then Tom’s hand caught mine, startling me.
“Wait!” I cried. “Don’t send me away! Please don’t—”
But Tom pulled me close. His mouth brushed against my ear as he whispered, “Just go ahead. Do whatever you want.”
My mind whirled. Was this part of his plan? Was I supposed to run away? But why? To whom? I tried to pull away from his grip but he tightened his hold. His lips moved closer to my neck. “If you ever loved me once, you’ll do as I say.”
When I didn’t move, Tom drew his head back and released me. He crossed his arms tightly across his chest. For a moment, neither of us said anything. Finally, I asked, “Why are we being arrested?”
“Because we have to be.”
“For what?”
“Nothing. Now hurry up and go inside.”
Before I could ask another question, Tom grabbed me by the arm and jerked me toward the door. I stumbled to keep up with him and nearly lost my footing on the wet ground. Before I reached the door, I heard Mrs. Kelly call, “Get inside before someone sees you!” To protect me?
Mrs. Kelly stood aside. “Come inside.”
“No.” I shook my head. “You don’t understand—”
She cut me off. “Yes, I do.” Her eyes narrowed as she studied me. “And you’re not welcome here. Leave before I call your father.”
“Please,” I pleaded. “Let us talk. Don’t make me go home without knowing why Tom sent me away.”
Her expression softened slightly. “Go ahead and tell me what’s wrong. I won’t judge you.”
That’s all I needed to hear. The truth spilled out in a rush. “There isn’t time for me to explain. We need to leave now. It’s dangerous to stay here. I’m sorry. That’s all I know.”
A shadow passed over her features, but only briefly. She said, “Where are you headed?”
“To Denver.”
“Denver? You mean that city in Colorado?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I suppose you can come there if you want. But it will cost you.”
I looked down at Tom. He nodded curtly. I wanted to argue. How could they turn me away? I was trying to save them—their whole family! But I had no choice. They were right. We needed money. “How much?”
***
We rode west through the night. At least that’s how long I spent sleeping in the saddle while Tom drove. As soon as morning arrived, I climbed into the wagon and curled up on top of the canvas cover. This way, I wouldn’t have to see the ugly faces staring at me every few miles. I lay awake most of the trip thinking about how much trouble I’d caused.
Was this what life would always be like for me? Always running from one place to the next, living in fear, looking over my shoulder? My stomach knotted tight each time I thought of Tom sending me away.
If I hadn’t gone along with his plan, then none of this would have happened. No doubt he would have told me where I was going. And if I stayed away, he’d still find some other way to punish me.
Maybe Tom was right. Maybe I should just let things happen as they may and try to survive. After all, he’d promised to take care of me, but now he might be turning his back on me again. Why couldn’t I learn to accept my fate and quit worrying so much?
Tom stopped the horses near a small grove of trees. A dirt road ran between rows of cottonwood trees. In the distance, a farmhouse peeked over the treetops. I jumped down and started walking around the wagon.
“Stop!” Tom ordered.
The sound of his voice brought me back to reality. I turned to face him. “What?”
He pointed to the house. “You stay behind me.”
With that, he walked toward the front porch. I followed slowly. When we reached the steps, Tom stepped up onto the first step. “Now wait here.”
He disappeared inside. I waited. I listened. Nothing. What did he expect me to do? Wait forever? Just when I was starting to think he wasn’t coming back, the door swung open and Tom stepped outside. “It’s safe. Come on.”
He led me around the side of the house to a large barn. Inside, a man sat at an old wooden workbench. He wore overalls stained dark brown from years of hard labor. His gray hair stuck straight up above his forehead. “Good day.”
Tom spoke politely. “Can we borrow your tools? We’ll pay you well.”
The farmer eyed Tom suspiciously. “Why?”
“Someone tried to rob our wagon last night. They left it overturned in a ditch. Can you help us fix it?”
“Who?”
“Two men.”
The farmer scratched his chin. “They didn’t say anything about needing any tools.”
“Just tell me you’ll lend us yours.”
His expression changed. “All right.” He motioned to two pliers hanging beside the bench. “Take those. Now get out.”
I picked up the pliers and hurried after Tom. Once outside, I asked, “Did you find something?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me.”
Tom handed me a leather pouch. “Here’s the money.” He glanced around nervously. “But don’t show it to anyone else.”
I took the pouch. “Are you sure it’s all there?”
“Yes, but don’t ask how I got it.” He gave me a quick kiss and whispered, “Be careful.” Then he mounted the team. I watched until the wagons pulled away from the farmhouse.
When I returned to the wagon, I opened the pouch and counted out the bills. There were fifty dollars. It was more than enough to buy what we needed for our trip. All I had to do was sneak it past Mr. Sanderson.
My thoughts drifted to the money. Fifty dollars sounded good, but I knew better. Money meant nothing without freedom. Freedom to live and love. I clenched my jaw against the pain of loss.
After leaving the farmer, we continued on to the town of Newkirk. The streets were packed with people. The buildings stood crowded together on either side of the main street. I noticed that many of the shops advertised guns for sale. From what little I could make out, it seemed to be a gunsmithing town.
At the edge of town, Tom parked the team and climbed out of the driver’s seat. With me following close behind, we made our way into the middle of the street. As we walked by storefront windows, I spotted several men wearing black suits.
Their hats hid their faces; their hands gripped pistols tucked under their arms. I looked at Tom. His eyes met mine. “Don’t worry,” he said quietly. “We’re not alone anymore.”
Once through the busy street, we moved deeper into the center of town. Two blocks later, we entered an alleyway filled with empty crates and barrels. This is where Tom stashed the money. But why? Was it because he feared someone would see the bundles of cash sticking out of the canvas sack? Or maybe he just wanted to keep it hidden.
Either way, I hoped he was doing the right thing. For once, I wished he wouldn’t be so secretive.
As we approached the wagon, I heard shouting from somewhere nearby. At least three voices carried over the clamor. Suddenly, a loud gunshot rang out. A bullet whizzed over our heads and landed in one of the barrels.
A cry escaped my lips. Tom grabbed my arm. “Keep quiet.”
“How can I?” I demanded. “There are gunshots everywhere. And who fired the shot?”
“Whoever it was, they must have thought we were robbing them or something.”
I shook my head. “That’s impossible.”
“Then who—”
“Look!” I pointed across the street. “That’s where it happened.”
On the other side of the alley, a group of six men rushed toward a horse-drawn carriage. Three of them jumped off the horses and ran forward. One man remained mounted and rode along next to the carriage. Another stayed near the rear of the carriage while another came alongside. They stopped in front of a brick building that appeared abandoned.
One of the men ran ahead, and ducked inside the building. Seconds later, screams erupted from within. I pressed closer to Tom. “What are they doing?”
“Trying to stop whoever it is from stealing their horses.”
Another scream pierced the air. I couldn’t stand it anymore. My body trembled as if I’d been hit by a strong wind. “Please,” I begged, “turn around.”
He did. “It’s all right. Just stay calm.”
For some reason, I believed him. Maybe it was his voice. Whatever it was, I felt myself relax. Gradually the fear subsided and turned to anger. Who dared try to steal a man’s property? What kind of man steals a horse?
“You should go back to the wagon,” Tom said. “If they catch us here, they might hurt us too.”
“No!” I shook my head. “I want to watch.”
“All right.” He nudged me aside and stepped onto the sidewalk. “Come on.”
The three men dashed toward the entrance of the building. When they reached the door, two of them pushed their way inside. The third man remained outside. That left only one person. He waited in the shadows between the buildings. The second man shouted and kicked at the closed door. The first man didn’t answer. After a moment, the other two men joined him.
Suddenly, the doors burst open. Men poured out of the building like water spilling out of a broken dam. In seconds, the alleyway was full. Each man wore a black suit. Most carried revolvers; others brandished knives.
I gasped when I saw the last man standing beside the carriage. I recognized him. “Mr. Sanderson.”
Tom stared at me. “Who’s Mr. Sanderson?”
“Just leave me alone,” I muttered. I wanted to hide away. But I refused to give up. If I didn’t learn how this kidnapping business worked, I never would get out of there alive.
With Tom close behind, we walked past the carriage and its five passengers. I tried to look around the corner but failed miserably. All I could see was a small crowd of men surrounding the carriage. Then a voice called out from the opposite side of the street. “Hey! It’s you!”
Startled, I looked over my shoulder. The man in the black suit waved at Tom. “Didn’t expect to find you here.”
Tom smiled. “Why don’t you come over here?”
We crossed the street. As soon as we arrived, the man pulled off his hat. His hair was dark brown, almost black. He had a neatly trimmed beard and mustache. With a quick glance at the others gathered around the carriage, he asked, “Where’s your partner?”
“Gone for now.” Tom gave no explanation. “But he’ll be back shortly.”
“So I guess we’re not going anywhere,” the man said.
“Not until after lunch anyway,” Tom answered.
“Well, let’s just say you’re lucky I’m in a generous mood today.” He nodded toward the carriage. “Maybe we ought to take these folks with us.”
Before anyone else could object, Tom put a hand on each man’s shoulder. “They’re under my protection.”
“Protecting what?” the man snapped.
Tom held up his revolver. “Their lives.”
The man sneered. “Are they worth protecting? You know, if I were you, I wouldn’t waste my bullets.”
Tom glanced down at the gun in his hands. “Don’t worry about wasting any bullets. We won’t need any.”
As he spoke, I watched the other men gather around the carriage. At least two dozen men crowded around the vehicle. Two of them approached the driver and passenger seats. A few of those closest to the carriage raised their guns. Others kept watching over the passengers.
The man in the black suit snickered. “Now that’s funny. I mean really funny.”
Tom ignored him. “Tell your friends to keep their distance or they will regret it.”
The man laughed again. “That’s a threat.”
“Then I guess it means something different to you than it does to me.”
A couple of men whooped loudly. They must have thought it was amusing. One of them slapped his friend on the back. “See, I told ya. This guy is crazy. No sense of humor whatsoever.”
“Shut up,” another growled.
When I realized the man was talking to Tom, I couldn’t stop myself from saying, “What are you doing here?”
His eyes narrowed. “I came along because I needed help. But instead of asking nicely, you decided to do things the hard way. So I’ve got nothing better to do than wait here for you.”
“And I suppose you brought a lot of people to watch?”
He shrugged. “Enough to make sure none of us gets hurt.”
“How did you know where to find me?”
“I figured it out while I was waiting for you to show up. Why don’t you tell me why you’re so angry?”
I hesitated before answering. How much should I reveal? Finally, I said, “My father died.”
“Oh.” He stared at me for several long moments. “Your father was murdered by the very same man you’re helping to kidnap.”
“You knew all along?”
He smirked. “Of course, I knew all along.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing matters except getting you free of this place.”
For some reason, I felt a little relieved. I hadn’t expected to hear anything good from him. Yet, I still wasn’t ready to trust him completely. When I turned away, I found Tom watching me with an amused expression. “This one looks tough enough to handle himself.”
The man in the black suit stepped forward. “Let’s go.” He grabbed Tom’s arm and started walking. “If you want her alive, stay close.”
After everyone was inside the carriage, the man in the black suit led the way across the street. Tom followed right behind. The rest of the men fell in line behind them. As soon as we reached our destination, I stopped in front of the house. The door opened. The man in the black suit went through first, then Tom, and finally the six passengers. Once they were all inside, he shut the door and locked it.
In spite of the seriousness of the situation, I couldn’t help smiling. It seemed strange to think that the woman in the carriage had once been kidnapped herself. She was certainly well protected now.
“Who owns this property?” the man in the black suit asked.
“It belongs to my family.”
“Didn’t think I’d meet someone who lived here.”
“Does that surprise you?” Tom asked.
“No.”
With a quick motion, Tom tossed his hat into the street. Then he pulled mine off. In spite of the circumstances, I couldn’t help laughing when he handed it to me. “So how did you find me?” I asked. “I didn’t see a single horse.”
“There aren’t many horses in town.”
“Where did you come from?”
“We left town early this morning.”
“Early this morning? What time was that?”
“About four hours ago.”
I shook my head. “Four hours? That can’t be possible. Did you walk all night?”
“Not quite. We hired a teamster to drive us.”
“But why would anyone agree to do such a thing?”
“Money talks.”
“Are there any other houses nearby?”
“Just the ones on either side of this one.”
“Do you live alone?”
“Yes, but I have plenty of help.”
“Can you spare some of your workers for a few minutes?”
“Sure, no problem.”
One of the women from the carriage hurried to open the rear doors. Another took a seat next to the driver. A third stood by the carriage and held the reins. The fourth and fifth waited inside. Only two remained outside. One was holding a lantern, and the other carried a shotgun. Both of them wore bandannas over their mouths.
As soon as the carriage door opened, the gunman pointed the muzzle of the weapon toward the floorboards. I assumed she was pointing it at Tom since he was closest to the opening. “Don’t move or speak unless you’re spoken to,” the man warned. “Move and I’ll shoot.”
Tom nodded. The gunman aimed the gun at the ceiling. “Keep moving.”
Once everyone was safely inside, the man in the black suit ordered the woman to start driving. After they set off down the street, I looked back at the house. For some reason, I felt sad about leaving. Maybe it was because I’d grown fond of the place after spending only one day there. Or maybe it was simply the idea of never seeing it again.
The End