Heaven scooped up the black hat from the drive and approached the man lying still, face down in the mud. She dropped the hat next to him as she kneeled, grimacing as her black skirt sunk in the mud. He seemed to stretch out to the next county in length, and she hoped his weight was in his legs, or she didn’t stand a chance of moving him. She had to turn him before he suffocated in the mud. Sticking her hands between him and the earth, she lifted, hoping to get him high enough that he’d fall the rest of the way, landing on his back.
Her arm muscles strained against his weight. She almost had him … if she had a little more strength. “Angel, quick bend down here next to me.”
Angel touched Heaven’s head and then brushed against her side until she knelt in the muck.
“Stick your hands straight out, and you’ll feel his chest.” It wasn’t proper having her sister touch a stranger in such an inappropriate manner, but then she ought not be touching him either. Mrs. Reynolds wouldn’t approve. Then again, she wouldn’t have approved of Heaven shooting this man either. She almost laughed and would have if the situation hadn’t been troublesome.
“His chest is as hard as dirt.” Angel wiggled her shoulders, knocking into Heaven’s. “Now what?”
“On three we push as hard as we can. One, two, three!” The man seemed to stall halfway then rolled to his back, taking them with him.
“Whoa!” Angel seemed to fly as she somersaulted over the man’s body and landed with a thud.
Heaven’s hands were stretched out in front of her. Her stomach lay across the man’s chest. Heat flooded Heaven’s face. This wasn’t proper at all. She pushed off the ground and scooted on to her feet, thankful no one was there to see her sprawled across this man.
“Angel, are you okay?”
Her sister stood, brushed her hands on her skirt, and laughed. “That was fun. I’m fine. I told you I could help.” Angel smirked. “So, is he dead or alive, and where did the bullet hit?”
The man on the ground moaned.
Heaven screamed. Her hands covered her mouth as she backed away.
“Guess we don’t need to bury him,” Angel said. “It’s a good thing, too, because I don’t think we could have drug him around back. We’d have had to pile dirt on him right here, and that would’ve looked suspicious.”
“Angel, watch what you’re saying!” Heaven bent over the man. “Can you tell me where you’re hurt?” The brownest eyes she’d ever seen looked into hers. Her breath caught as recognition dawned. “You’re the man from the store this morning.”
“Hurts. Heard a gunshot. Did my horse spook and toss me?” His hand moved to the side of his head, exposing a white jagged line where there must have been dark curly hair.
Then Heaven noticed the river of blood pouring through his fingers. Her vision wavered into semidarkness. God help me. There’s blood, and lots of it. She steadied her mind. She didn’t have the luxury of being a Nashville lady right now. “We’ll figure that out later. Do you think you can stand and walk into the cabin?”
Angel gasped. “We’re taking him inside?”
“We can’t very well leave him out here bleeding, Angel Claire. That wouldn’t be polite.”
“He’s bleeding? So you did hit him?”
At times like this, she wished she could stare her sister quiet. “Shh.” There might still be time to cover this up if Angel didn’t blurt out the truth. Maybe he could be led to believe it was a stray shot from a hunter.
The man struggled to push into a sitting position. He held his head, “Dizzy, but I think I can make it. My horse—needs—”
She glanced over at the horse that seemed content to watch them while snatching bits of dried grass. “He’ll be fine. I’ll get him in the barn right after we get you settled and fixed up. Try standing now. Hold on to me in case you get so dizzy you start to fall.” Heaven offered her hand to help steady him. Once he was upright, Heaven had a feeling that if they didn’t hurry to the house, he’d be on the ground again. “Angel, take two steps to your right, and you’ll be next to him. I need your help to support him. Now grab his arm and sling it around your neck. I’ll do the same.”
Heaven staggered under the weight as the man’s knees buckled. “Hold on, Angel! Don’t you dare fall, mister, or we’ll leave you where you land this time.”
“Do my best, ma’am.”
“I appreciate that.” She didn’t want to talk. All of her energy went into bearing his weight. She had no idea men were so heavy.
“It’s getting dark.”
“Yes it is.” Heaven hoped he meant the sky and not what was going on inside his head. A few more paces and they’d be at the porch steps. “We’re almost there, sir. Angel, once we get him up the steps, I want you to open the door so I can get him inside.”
“Where you going to put him?” “I think Pa’s bed would be best.” “Why not a chair?”
“Because I think a bed’s the best place.”
“I don’t. I think a chair is best. He ought not be in a bed in our cabin—not without Pa being here.”
Sometimes Heaven wanted to treat her sister like a turkey and wring the common sense right out of her. “You’re right, but Pa isn’t here, and I am. So we’re going to do what I say.”
“I still don’t know why we can’t stick him in the rocker and work on him there.”
“Steps, Angel. One, two, three.” Angel made it to the porch deck, skittered to the door, flung it open, and rested against the door frame.
The man moaned and grew shorter as his knees buckled. His weight pressed against Heaven’s shoulder. “Can’t stand much longer.”
“Angel, help! We can’t let him fall. Help me get him to the bed.” It wasn’t far, but it seemed as if they were trying to reach Nashville by foot. As they gained momentum, the man’s weight became unwieldy, and it was all Heaven could do to steer him toward the bed. She pretty much aimed his fall rather than eased him gently down.
He sat on the bed and then fell over on his side with a thump, his feet still planted on the floor.
“Now is he dead?” Angel asked.
“No, just out cold, which is good. The wound needs to be cleaned and maybe even stitched tight. Better to do that while he’s out.” She didn’t look forward to drawing a thread through the man’s scalp. Last November, when they first came to live at Great-Uncle Neal’s cabin, Pa tore his arm open on a tree branch. Ma had tried to show Heaven how to stitch his skin together, but one look at that needle going through skin had sent her crashing to the floor. Now she would have to do it, because there wasn’t anyone else. It wasn’t right that Pa had left them. Once again her anger flared. That was at least twice today, wasn’t it? Well, it wasn’t fair. He should have taken them along or at least sent word to them by now. Didn’t he know she was sick with worry? And now she had to sew skin together!
“What about his horse? Can I take him to the barn?”
That reminded her of her promise to hang the rope between the barn and the house. She’d convinced Angel to wait until tomorrow. “Never put off till tomorrow what you can do today.” She heard Ma’s voice as clear as summer springwater in her head.
“No, not by yourself. It’s dark, and you might lose your way back.”
Angel clutched her hips with hands of iron, and she stood taller. “Dark? Heaven, it’s always dark for me. I have a better chance of getting back than you ever will.”
“You can’t leave me alone with this man. It isn’t proper.”
“Maybe you should have thought of that before you dragged him into Pa’s bed.”
“Angel!”
“It’s true, and you know it. Besides, one of us has to get that horse in the barn before he runs off. Do you want me to stay with him?”
She glanced back at the man on the bed. How long would he be unconscious? He was bleeding a lot, a steady trickle running down the side of his face onto his arm. He’d landed in a way to make it easy for her to patch up. The bleeding had to be stopped now. But Angel outside alone terrified her.
“Heaven?” Angel grasped her arm. “I can do this. You have to take care of him. He’s too heavy to drag out of here if he dies.”
“Go. Hurry. Don’t dawdle. Just stick the horse in the stall and get back here. I’ll feed everyone later.”
“I will.”
“Watch out for that hole. Remember, it’s thirty-six steps from the porch, and then step to the left.…”
“I know. You’ve been making me count it now for weeks.” She turned and headed for the door faster than Heaven had seen her move in months.
Freedom, sweet freedom. Angel hated that her sister shot that man, but she almost couldn’t contain her joy at the unexpected gift his injury had brought. A chance to do something on her own. She couldn’t mess this up. If she did, it would be forever before Heaven let her venture out alone. At the count of thirty-six, she stepped left and continued counting in her mind. It was so easy to count and think of other things now. Like how to find the horse. She stopped short. Good thing Heaven hadn’t thought of that, or she wouldn’t have let Angel out of the house. Still she had to figure out how to find him.
Come on, Angel, you’re smart enough to figure this out. Think it through. She cocked her head and listened. The wind blew leaves to her left. That’s where the horse had been. She took two steps in that direction and listened again. She could hear tree branches swaying and clicking into each other. No horse sounds, no pawing the ground or heavy breathing through the nose. She puckered her lips and made a kissing noise.
Horse lips ruffled together in response.
Satisfaction filled her posture. She knew where that horse stood. Now all she had to do was to get his reins and lead him into the barn.
Annabelle returned to her father’s home, clutching her embroidered handbag containing her freedom, a train ticket for tomorrow morning, close to her chest. With freedom less than a day away and a foolproof plan of escape in place, her heart warred with her stomach. She’d never been so daring. Did it show on her face? In her walk? She needed to appear normal and not flushed with the thrill of what was to come.
“Good afternoon, Miss Singleton.” John, their manservant, helped her out of her coat.
“John, I’ve made arrangements to have some things I won’t need shipped to Heaven Wharton and her little sister. A porter will be here later today to pick them up.”
“Will there be a large or small package, Miss Singleton?”
Annabelle attempted to appear thoughtful as if she weren’t quite sure. She didn’t want John to suspect anything. “It might be best to pack it all in one of those old trunks. That way everything will arrive intact. Don’t you think, John?”
His eyebrows rose slightly.
Annabelle fiddled inside her purse. Did he suspect she was planning on leaving? Distraction might be a good idea. “My wool came in today. I want to get that trunk packed quickly so I can start working with it.”
From her peripheral vision, she saw his eyebrows settle back into place. Good, he didn’t suspect anything.
“Would you be needing any help with the packing, Miss Singleton?”
“No. No, thank you.” Did her voice just squeak? She faked a cough. “I do hope I’m not catching a cold. I best hurry. I know what I want to send to Heaven. I do believe I’ll ask Cook for some of that jam Angel likes so well. I’ll wrap it to keep the jar from breaking. Thank you, John. I’ll let you know when the trunk is ready to be brought downstairs.”
“Yes Miss Singleton. And I do believe Cook would be happy to send the little one some jam. I’ll request it on my way to collect the trunk you’ll need upstairs to pack.”
“Thank you.” Annabelle scurried to the stairs. First thing she needed to do was collect her mother’s wedding ring out of the box in her father’s room. She’d planned on wearing it when she married last June, so if she tilted the truth a tiny bit, the ring already belonged to her.
But would it keep her safe? The trains were dangerous to ride on alone, but Jake would be with her. But what if he changed his mind and didn’t board at the last minute. Maybe she should take someone along. But who? And she’d have to find them a way back to Nashville, unless they wouldn’t mind going all the way to Memphis and never coming back.