A Widowed Rancher Stopped for a Mother and Daughter in the Rain… She Said ‘Stay Back or I’ll Shoot
Chapter 5
The first shot shattered the window.
Thomas fired through the wall.
A man cried out.
Sarah grabbed Lucy.
“Run.”
They rushed through the rear door.
Thomas followed.
They entered the woods.
Branches tore at their clothing.
Lucy stumbled.
Sarah carried her.
Thomas stayed behind them.
Another shot cracked.
Then another.
The forest filled with smoke.
Thomas turned and fired.
A rider fell from his horse.
The others scattered.
Thomas ran.
They reached a ravine.
“Down.”
Sarah crouched.
Lucy hid beneath her cloak.
Thomas peered over the rocks.
Three men searched the woods.
One held a lantern.
Another shouted.
“Find Bennett!”
Thomas waited.
When the men passed, he whispered.
“We go west.”
Sarah shook her head.
“You said north.”
“They’ll expect north now.”
She looked at him.
Thomas smiled faintly.
“People are predictable.”
They moved through the ravine.
By dawn they reached the lower pasture.
Thomas had lost one horse.
Sarah’s cloak was torn.
Lucy had a cut across her cheek.
But they were alive.
Thomas led them into an old stone barn.
Inside, Sarah finally broke down.
She sat against the wall.
“I can’t keep doing this.”
Thomas sat beside her.
“You’ve been doing it for days.”
“I promised Anna.”
“You kept your promise.”
“No.”
Sarah covered her face.
“I don’t even know where the deed is anymore.”
Thomas looked at her.
“What?”
“She moved it.”
“Who?”
“Anna.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
Sarah pulled the brass locket from her pocket.
“She gave this to Lucy.”
Thomas examined it.
“There’s writing inside.”
Sarah looked.
A tiny inscription was carved beneath the portrait.
Three words.
WHERE WE FIRST MET.
Thomas frowned.
“Where did Anna meet Mercer?”
Sarah shook her head.
“Not Mercer.”
She looked at Lucy.
“Anna met her husband there.”
“Where?”
“The old chapel.”
Thomas remembered.
There was an abandoned chapel near the western ridge.
Sarah stood.
“We need to go.”
Thomas stopped her.
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
He pointed toward the pasture.
Fresh hoofprints.
Someone had found them.
And among the tracks was a distinctive iron shoe.
Thomas knew the horse.
Gideon Mercer’s personal rider.
They were close.
Very close.
