Chapter Five
Friday, December 19
was a beast. In every way. With fists like boulders. He rested his head against the wooden wall of the mess. He hadn’t slept all night, and his stomach growled. Hughes had withheld breakfast.
Mrs. Nelson kept her distance, too, and as hungry as he was, he wouldn’t want Marian’s mother to suffer because of him. Responsibility. This is why he stayed away from it. It always cost someone.
Like his brother, who sat silently beside him. Eyes closed, his lanky legs stretched out, tied hands resting in his lap. As if he didn’t have a care in the world. As if.
The door opened and Kyle slipped inside.
“The other jacks might be scared of Hughes, but they looked the other way.” Kyle dropped to a knee before them, unsheathing a knife. “I managed to get all your belongings, and Meredith’s, to the edge of the trees. They’re ready for you to grab on your way to the train.”
“Thank you. Remember to keep your head down.” David turned and locked eyes with Patrick as Kyle cut the ropes around Patrick’s wrists. “We’re going to find a way out of this. As soon as we find Meredith.”
“I’m the one who got us into this. It’s my—” responsibility.
The corner of David’s mouth turned up. “Starting to get it now?”
Yeah. Maybe.
“And I sent that message you wanted.” Kyle sawed at the ropes tying David’s hands. “Hughes is still in a temper, so Godspeed. I’ll see you both when the ice thaws in the spring.”
“Where are we going?” Patrick looked between the two. They seemed to have a plan laid out, and he was in the dark.
“We’re taking Meredith to Grandma.” David rubbed his wrists before Kyle gave David a hand to his feet. David held on. “This winter, think about whether being only friends with Sam is enough for you. I made room for you on my fishing crew because I want you to succeed.”
Patrick stopped midway to his feet and stared at his brother. Kyle’s face turned bright red.
“This situation has made me realize Adaleigh won’t care how much I spend on a ring,” David continued. “It’s being together that matters. And now I don’t want to miss our first Christmas.”
Patrick hated the emotion that churned in his chest. Jealousy, longing, anger.
“Let’s get going.” David motioned toward the door. He and Patrick allowed Kyle to exit first so they weren’t seen together.
Patrick used the opportunity to glare at his brother. “You really think Kyle is good enough for our baby sister?”
“Yes, I do.” David peeked outside. “Are you ready to spring Meredith and give her a Christmas with a loving family?”
“I’m not marrying her.” Preposterous. His brother had marriage on the mind.
“I said nothing of the kind.” David motioned for Patrick to follow him into the cold. “Why is that word popping up in your head?”
“Because—” They circled around the corner of the mess hall.
“I know I want to get married. But you—how did you say it?—hate responsibility.”
His brother had a point. Silence stretched between them as David led them along the back of the buildings. David had always been good at using silence as an interrogation technique, but he had grown even better at it since he met his girl. Patrick had nothing to lose voicing the question that had been nagging him all night. “What if marrying her is the only way to get her free of her father?”
David paused at the back corner of the Nelson’s cabin. “Are you willing to make that sacrifice?”
“Marrying Meredith Hughes isn’t a sacrifice. She’s beautiful. And kind. And smart. And—” Pregnant.
David slipped between the Nelson’s and Hughes’ cabin. “You’re doing more than thinking about it, brother.”
Patrick growled, then remembered how Meredith had reacted to the sound in the woods yesterday. He’d scared her. “I can’t. What if I’m no better than Dad? She doesn’t deserve another man mistreating her.” Or her child.
David paused at the opening between the two buildings. “And why do you assume you would?”
“I’m Dad’s son. I—”
“So am I.”
Words died on Patrick’s tongue. David was the most responsible person he knew. Irritatingly responsible. What if Patrick was more like his brother than their dad? It almost made him laugh. He resented David’s oversight as much as he hated his father’s actions.
“Think about it.” David searched the clearing. “The camp is nearly deserted. Ready?”
Love had toned down David’s workaholic tendencies. Dare he say, freed him from duty? Yet he was taking on even more. The calculation didn’t compute. But his brother was happy. Ridiculously happy. And it reminded Patrick of the way David had been before Mom died. A bit mischievous, and definitely fearless. He’d always been willing to try something once. And Patrick had always been willing to follow. They made a good team. Maybe together, they’d succeed in rescuing Meredith.
He would just have to remember—David would give everything, including his life, to protect someone else. Patrick couldn’t let him do that, not with a woman waiting at home for him. So if someone had to sacrifice for Meri’s safety, it had better be Patrick, not his brother.
Time to step into a position Patrick had promised himself he would never shoulder. He inhaled the cold morning air. “Let’s go.”
Feeling like a new woman, Meri woke to bright sunshine and the Nelsons’ empty cabin. Mrs. Nelson’s ministrations—water, food, and rest—had worked like the best medicine.
She rubbed her belly and the baby shifted beneath. Tears blurred her vision. “That’s right, little one. You and me, we’ll get through this.”
In no time, she traded her nightgown for the dress laid out for her. The blue cotton smelled of smoke, but appeared unharmed. Then she looked around for her Bible. Had she dropped it in the commotion last night? And what about the bundle of clothes Patrick had gathered for her? Did she have anything left to her name?
“Oh, good, you’re up.” Mrs. Nelson bustled into the room carrying a cup and bowl. “Eat. Drink. You have a big day ahead of you.”
“Is my father sober this morning?” Meri cradled the bowl of oatmeal in her hands. Where he found his alcohol, she didn’t know. It’d been illegal for years, but that hadn’t stopped him.
“He seems his usual grumpy self.” Mrs. Nelson laid out Meri’s coat, adding a scarf, hat, and mittens that weren’t Meredith’s. “Eat, eat, child.”
She took a bite—for the baby, because she wasn’t hungry. “Why the extra winter clothes?”
“You’re like a daughter to me, and mothers make sure their children are bundled against the cold.” Mrs. Nelson gathered a faded quilt, hugging it to herself. “You be careful of yourself and that baby, understand?”
“What’s going on?” Meri glanced around the room, hoping for clues. “Is my father …”
Mrs. Nelson sat beside her. “I need to ask you a question, and I want you to be completely honest with me. Can you do that?”
“Yes.” She drew out the word and set the bowl aside. Her stomach wouldn’t tolerate another bite.
“If you could leave camp, maybe never see your father again, would you go?”
Meri jerked back. “That isn’t an option.”
“And that wasn’t my question. If you had the ability, would you take it? Even if it meant never seeing your father again.”
“It’s a dream.”
“Heavens, child. It’s not a dream. Now, answer the question.”
Meri blinked.
“You could raise your child away from your father. Be free of him. Start over. Do you want that for yourself and your baby?”
“Yes.” Of course she did.
“Then are you willing to leave?”
Meri stared. “You mean this is possible?”
“All I need to know is if you want it enough to run away.”
“I can’t. Not alone.” Nor could she leave Patrick and his brother to face her father. “No. I won’t leave. Not without—”
“Mrs. Nelson, is she ready?” David Martins burst into the cabin, Patrick on his heels. Meri’s mouth dropped open.
“Hey.” Patrick gave her a tentative smile, then ran his gaze over her. Not like most lumberjacks did. It was almost like he was searching for … injury. Assuring himself she was okay. As though he truly cared about her—his gaze landed on her belly—and her baby.
Mrs. Nelson rested a hand on her shoulder. “The Martins boys will get you to their grandmother’s home safe and sound. I know them and they are honorable men. You will be safe with them.”
For the second time that morning, her vision blurred. She quickly nodded her head. “I want to go. Please take me with you.”
This was her chance at a happily ever after. Not romantically, of course. But with her baby. A new life, just the two of them.
She jumped to her feet. “Let’s go before my father finds out you’re gone.”
David peered out the window. “Then we better hurry. We need to make it to the trees before he comes looking for us. And we need to get to the train before the snow starts.”
Or they wouldn’t get out until spring.
Mrs. Nelson held the coat so Meri could slip her arms inside, then wrapped the scarf around her neck while Meri secured the hat and mittens.
“You be careful, Meredith Hughes.” Mrs. Nelson pulled her into a hug. “And say hi to my daughter when you arrive in Crow’s Nest.”
“I will, Mrs. Nelson. And thank you. For everything.”
“Miss Hughes?” David was at the door.
“It’s Meri. Er, Meredith.” If they were traveling together, Miss and Mister would never do.
“Yes, ma’am. We need to leave.”
“Kyle left a tin of food with your belongings.” Mrs. Nelson walked her to the door. “There should be enough to get you to the train. I’m sorry I couldn’t add more.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Nelson.” Patrick placed his hand on Meri’s lower back, taking over from the older woman.
“Stay safe.” David gave her a nod, then opened the door. “Follow me.”
Patrick kept close to Meri’s side as they followed David past Father’s house. They ducked under the rear window in case he was inside. Then circled to the back side of the bunkhouse. The trees were one hundred feet away. The bundles of supplies should be tucked just inside. Fifty feet until freedom.
“Hey!” Father shouted. She gasped.
“Run.” Patrick pushed her ahead of him. “Grab your pack and the tin and don’t stop.”
“Get back here, you scoundrels!” her father yelled after them.
Meri glanced over her shoulder, her mind forming a plea for him to let them go. But as she did, he pulled his pistol from a belt holster. They always carried a rifle into the woods. When had her father started wearing a gun?
He met her gaze and, instead of pointing the pistol at her, as she would have expected, he aimed at Patrick’s back. He was making her choose between her baby’s life and Patrick’s.
“No!” she screamed.
Patrick pushed her toward his brother. “Don’t look back.”
David latched onto her arm. Twenty feet to the trees. Patrick ran directly behind her, protecting her, forcing her to move more quickly than she could.
Her father’s heavy tread thudded behind them, hobnail boots scraping the ice-coated ground with each step. Catching up to them.
Her stomach cramped. She couldn’t run as fast as the Martins brothers. She was holding them back.
“Go.” She gasped for air. “Leave me behind.”
“Not a chance.” Patrick scooped her into his arms. Muscles used to carrying logs and tree trunks bore her easily.
“She’s my daughter, Martins, and I forbid her to leave.”
Then the pistol fired.