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Carrie did not know what she was thinking.
Fred Connor had the eyes of a magician. She had found herself staring into them, ready to agree to anything he asked of her. It was just good fortune that those friends of his had come along when they had. If not for that, she might have done something very stupid.
She dashed under a tree branch and behind a bush. He was following her. "Wilma!" he cried in a loud whisper.
Saying his name stirred something deep inside her. A shudder ran up and down her spine, stopping at her knees. What was the matter with her? He was just a man. It was just a voice.
She didn't know why she had given him a false name. She only knew that at the last moment, panic had gripped her. What if he was able to use her name to track her down later? Or her family? He was an outlaw. So, she had given him the name of her family's horse. He had told her he wasn't dangerous, but she had no reason to believe that.
Except that she did.
There was something in the manner of his voice... something in the way he had touched her. Firmly yet gently. He had tilted her head back, and Carrie had been certain he meant to kiss her. Her first impulse had been to run or to slap him but she had ceased to move. Ceased to breathe. Her heart fluttered each time his hand grazed her cheek.
He's an outlaw! her mind shouted, revolting at the image she was beginning to conjure in her head. Her pulse raced, and she suddenly remembered that she was running for her life. Fred might not mean to kill her, but his friends certainly had no qualms about it.
"Wilma! Stop!" he said as loud as he dared. "I won't hurt you. I swear it."
She almost left her hiding place, almost ran to him. The urge to go to him was strong. If not for the men trailing him, she might have done so.
"Fine, Wilma, listen to me," Fred whispered hurriedly now. "Just stay where you are. I'll get them to go away."
She wanted to trust him, but he was an outlaw. She heard more than just Fred's voice behind her now. She couldn't be sure how many there were, but it was at least two. Despite her youth, she was not a stupid woman. She knew when she was outnumbered. She moved slightly to her left, hoping to stay out of sight but still be able to listen. She stopped behind a giant evergreen, hiding amongst its boughs.
For the first time since leaving Valley Glen, she was glad her dress was not finer. The types of dresses women wore in the city were costly and easy to rip. She had seen them in newspapers and periodicals. Pictures of women trimmed in lace and silk with gold trim satin and fine corsets. Carrie's dress was simple, a cream-colored farm dress that might stain easily but would not turn to rags overnight.
"Fred! Damn it, what are you doing?" one of the men said, not more than five feet from where Carrie lay hidden.
"Nothing," Fred snapped. He'd stopped in an open patch of land. Carrie could see him clearly through the dark green boughs that snagged at every piece of her. Her bonnet caught in one and tried to pull it from her head.
"What are you doing back so early?" Fred asked. "I thought you said you'd be another hour."
"Yeah, well, we finished early. There ain't nothing goin' on in the next town over right now. No word from Judge Foster or the others. That woman must've got away."
"They might've taken a different path," Fred said. "There's a lot of towns between here and Helena."
"They say another stagecoach might be through again in a week or so, but Abel says he can't wait that long."
"Doesn't want to, but might have to." Fred let out a long breath. Carrie could see his eyes moving from tree to tree, still looking for her. She was amazed that he hadn't said anything yet about her presence.
"We should separate for now," Fred finally said. "Get back together later."
"Separate?" the man asked, sudden suspicion in his voice. "What for? You got something on the side you don't want us in on?"
"No. But Sheriff Hardy is already looking for me, now Judge Foster will be after me, too. I think it's safer if we're not all together."
"Maybe. Let's talk it over with Paul and Abel, see what they got to say about it."
Carrie sighed with relief as she heard them tromp away. So, they were planning to rob another stagecoach, were they? If she could get to town, she could put a stop to that. She waited three breaths then stepped out from her hiding spot. A loud crunch sounded behind her.
Carrie's feet took off running as though they were not attached to the rest of her. She dared a glance back over her shoulder and saw a deer prancing away from her through a thicket of trees. Her tension eased at once.
"Oh, thank the—"
Her feet gave out from under her. Carrie's hands flailed up in the air, reaching for something to grip onto. She caught nothing but thin branches that snapped and scraped her hands as the ground opened up beneath her, and she fell into a deep trapper's hole.
Her body hit the ground with a thump.
"Ow!" she cried as loud as she dared, holding onto her right foot. She had felt something in her leg give out when she'd landed. She prayed that nothing was broken.
She lay still a moment, sucking in great gulps of air. Breathe in... breathe out... She repeated the mantra, forcing her body to calm itself. Slowly, she began to move. Her hands reached out around her, touching the sides of her new cell. The hole was deep, but not wide. She could touch either side of it from the center. It was the sort of thing a trapper dug when he had no money for fancy traps. Digging into the dirt was free and an easy way to catch an animal.
Rising to her feet, she lightly touched the bottom of her foot to the ground. Her ankle immediately cried out, wasting no time in letting her know that she had a problem. She quickly lifted her foot back off the ground.
"Oh," she whimpered, biting her bottom lip. Tears filled her eyes. They did not hold long, quickly running down her cheeks, torrential rivers that pooled at her feet as she tried once more to apply pressure to her foot. "Uuugh!"
She fell back to the ground. There was just enough room for her to sit. She took deep breaths, wishing she had not been so stupid as to run through a forest without looking where she was going. She knew who to blame for this.
"Fred Connor." The name rolled off her tongue, angry and scornful. Were he here now, she would tell him that he was a no-good bootlicker. She swore to herself that if she ever saw him again, she would do just that.
Carrie curled her knees to her chest as the pain in her ankle began to subside. She looked up toward the top of the hole. The sun was still there, providing her with light, but it would not last. More than anything, she did not wish to be down here when nightfall came.
She would have to climb out. There was no other option. It was perhaps seven or eight feet, no more. Surely, she could make that. She would simply put the pressure on her good leg and use the bad one for balance.
She stood up and wiped her hands on her dress, cursing whatever hunter had dug this bear trap. She was careful to keep her weight to her left side.
"Dear Lord, give me strength," she murmured, reaching as high as she could. She dug her hands into the earth and pressed her left foot into a soft spot in the dirt wall. She tried to pull herself up.
She fell almost at once.
Carrie let out a loud cry, not caring who might hear. She stood up again, determination still holding strong even as a fresh round of tears overcame her. She tried again.
She fell again.
"Aaaggghhh!" she cried, frustration strangling its way out of her. Her throat was dry. She was still hungry.
She didn't know how much time had passed when she finally decided she wasn't getting out without help, but it felt like hours. There was only one person she knew out here. One person who might be able to help her. The other outlaws had terrified her, but there had been one among them who she had said he'd help her. Who'd said he'd get the others to go away. She would just have to trust him now, or she would die here in this hole. She sucked in a deep breath and as loud as she could she cried, “Fred!"
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