17

Cole cradled a dusty brown bottle between his hands. He had stolen it from a wayside tavern the night before and then rode ten more miles before he dared to stop and take a drink.

He cursed his shaking hands as the stopper slowly twisted off, then upended the bottle. He choked as the fiery whiskey hit his throat and coughed, spitting out most of what had gone into his mouth. Pressing the heel of one hand into his aching forehead, he tried another drink. This time the liquid floated down his gullet and burned deep in his empty belly.

The sky lightened in the east, but he barely noticed. He had barely noticed anything since that disastrous night along the Ohio. Darrell might not have been of much use, but he was an extra pair of hands when he needed them. Hiram—he wasn’t sorry Hiram had gone off on his own. The thought that Hiram might come back to avenge Darrell’s death made him take another swig of the whiskey. All he could hope was that Hiram had gone far enough that he’d never hear about what happened that night.

Pa, now, he wouldn’t miss them either way. Pa didn’t care what happened as long as he got his money and no one brought the law down on him. Cole felt the poke tucked in his vest. If it was up to him, this money would never make it back to the farm in Missouri. The law didn’t bother him, but Pa did. Cole didn’t know how long he had before the old man came looking for his money, but he wasn’t going to stick around to find out.

He took another swallow from the bottle.

Even with all that had happened, he couldn’t put that fine string of Conestoga horses out of his head. The Amish movers surely had made their way to the Amish settlement in Ohio by now, unless they were moving on west. He let his mind drift to Mattie. That girl just wouldn’t leave him alone. At night, when he did sleep, he dreamed of her, of what he would do when he finally had her alone, without the constant interfering presence of her family.

With that thought he got up from the rotting log he had been sitting on and mounted his horse. If they were moving on west, they’d take the Stone Road. Every mover heading west took that new road through the Great Black Swamp. There might be an opportunity or two to steal a couple horses from the settlers in the Swamp even if he didn’t find Mattie and her group.

Fastening the stopper on the bottle again, he stowed it in his saddlebag. He’d need a clear head to take him to the next step.

He reached Fremont, at the southern edge of the Swamp, just after noon the next day. The Stone Road began here and went straight northwest to the Maumee River on the northern side of the Swamp, cutting a straight line of stone atop a dike, providing a dry road through the vast wilderness of wetlands and standing water. He stopped at the inn near the tollbooth, and as he dismounted in front of the steps, a boy came to take his horse.

“Make sure you clean him up and give him a good feed.” Cole flipped a coin at the boy. He may as well spend Pa’s money on his own comfort.

When he walked into the inn, the woman behind the counter kept a sour face until he plunked down a five-dollar piece on the wooden surface. “I want a bath and a room for tonight. Supper, and whiskey if you’ve got it.”

The woman nodded, her frown turning to a simpering smile at the sight of the money. “Yes, sir. You must be traveling.” She turned a register toward him for his signature.

“I am. I need someone to clean my clothes too.” He scrawled an X with his dirty finger on the line she indicated.

The innkeeper walked into the low-ceilinged hall then, brushing dirt off his hands before sticking one out in Cole’s direction. “Mighty glad to have you stay with us, sir.” He eyed the coin still lying on the counter. “Whatever you’ll be needing, just let us know.”

Cole looked the man up and down. “I’d like to know a bit about the road ahead. Maybe we could talk over supper.”

“Yes, sir. There should be a few others in the tavern around that time, and they’ll be glad to tell you what you need to know.”

“That’s fine.” Cole picked up his saddlebag and turned to follow the woman up the stairs to his room. He stopped, not looking toward the man, and keeping his voice casual. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen a group of movers go through here in the past week or so. Amish folk. Several families with Conestoga wagons.”

“Yes, sir, we sure did. Don’t see many of them around here, since their settlement is down south a bit. But two days ago, just like you said. Some of those Conestoga wagons. They went on up the Stone Road. Seemed anxious to get on and didn’t stay to visit any.”

Cole struggled to keep his expression bland. “They’re some friends of mine. If they’re only a couple days ahead, I’ll be able to catch up with them.” He paused, as if he had just thought of something. “I’ll be leaving early in the morning, before dawn. Will I be able to get my horse, or do you keep your barn locked?”

“We never lock the barn. You can leave whenever you wish.”

“You don’t lock the barn?” Cole put a surprised look on his face. “You must not be bothered with horse thieves here then, the way the innkeepers are down south.”

The innkeeper’s face blanched. “Why no. We never have.”

Cole smiled, as if he was relieved. “I’m sure you won’t be a victim of those rascals. But you never know where they might strike next.”

By the time he had taken a bath in the room off the kitchen and dressed in clean clothes straight from the clothesline, it was suppertime. He shaved carefully, scraping off a two-weeks’ growth of beard, and trimmed his mustache. Darrell and Hiram might not have cared where or how they camped, but Cole hated the creeping dirt that never came off in a quick dip in a stream. Only a hot bath and lye soap would get him clean enough. He grinned at his reflection in the flecked mirror over the chifforobe. With any luck, he’d catch up with the Amish movers by tomorrow night. Somehow he’d get those horses. He smoothed his mustache. That Mattie girl too, if he had read the expression in her eyes right.

He let himself sleep less than two hours, after spending a long evening in the tavern talking with a couple salesmen from Toledo. He dressed quietly and crept down the stairs, avoiding the two steps that had squeaked beneath his tread the night before. He let himself out the kitchen door and walked toward the barn, estimating the time by the stars. Only a few hours until dawn.

The barn door opened with a quiet groan and he stopped, waiting to hear if he had roused the stable boy. When no one stirred, he left the door open to the moonlight and went to his horse. He saddled him quickly and tied him to a post.

“Now you wait here,” he said, calming the bay gelding. “We’ll see if we can get any friends to take with us.”

The salesmen had driven a carriage pulled by a pair of sleek blacks with matching white stockings. Cole brought them out of their stalls and strung their halters together with a lead. They came willingly enough when he gave them each a handful of grain out of the bin. He closed the barn door behind them and mounted, leading the blacks.

The tollbooth was closed, just as the innkeeper had told him it would be this early. The gatekeeper expected night travelers to leave their toll in a box, but he walked the horses past the gatehouse and around the single pole barrier. He continued walking them on the grass trail next to the stone and tar surface of the road. Once out of earshot of the town, he pushed the horses into a trot, their hooves muffled by the grassy verge.

Cole looked back at the sleek blacks. Not a bad night’s work. He grinned and settled into the mile-eating pace that would catch him up to his prey.

Even on the second day of travel on the Stone Road, a week after they had left Walnut Creek, Mattie couldn’t get enough of the mysterious swamp around her as she walked on the grass trail beside the wagon. The road, straight as an arrow and covered with a macadam surface made of tar mixed with stone, marked the miles-long gash in the canopy that rose on either side. Below the raised road, water stood in pools on either side. Trees rose long-legged from the bright green duckweed, reaching to vast heights where their narrow crowns searched for the sunlight. On the grass-covered slopes of the dike, Mattie saw signs of animals. The splash of an otter disappearing under the water as they passed or the white flag of a deer’s tail were common enough. But as she peered farther into the murky depths on either side, the only signs of life were the drumming of unseen woodpeckers or the flash of a blue warbler flitting through the high branches.

The night before, as they camped on a raised island, the mosquitoes had pestered them endlessly. The men had made a smudge of the cooking fire, hoping it would keep most of the insects away, but the pests found bare skin even through the thick smoke. Naomi had hunted out some jewelweed, and they had picked handfuls of it, applying its sap to the bites on the children’s arms, legs, and faces. Morning had brought a cool north breeze blowing through the tunnel of a road, bringing some relief, but Mattie knew mosquitoes. They would be back as soon as the breeze died down in the evening.

They stopped at noon, gathering together on the grass alongside the road. Jacob kept to his wagon, not looking at Mattie at all. Mattie continued to ignore him as well. Never mind the nagging desire to watch him work with the horses or to go with him along the drier ridges leading into the Swamp on a search for firewood. She also ignored the sick feeling in her stomach. It must have been something she ate that made her uncomfortable. It couldn’t have anything to do with Jacob.

Mattie tried to amuse three-year-old Leah by making a handkerchief baby while the child’s mother, Emma, dealt with a fussy Rebecca.

“This poor baby has so many mosquito bites, it doesn’t surprise me that she can’t sleep.” Emma patted at Rebecca’s face with a wet cloth while the baby twisted her face away.

“The last mile marker I saw was thirty-two, so we only have eight more miles to go.” Mattie took the tired handkerchief from Leah’s hands and re-formed it into a doll one more time. “We should be out of the Swamp by tonight, and then we’ll be able to camp on higher ground.”

Emma stood and rocked back and forth, trying to comfort her daughter. “We can’t be away from this evil place quickly enough for me.”

Mattie gave Leah a cluster of yellow dandelions, laughing as the little girl giggled and picked it apart, scattering the flowers. “I don’t think the Swamp is evil. It’s beautiful and mysterious.”

“It’s dangerous, if you ask me. I know I heard a bobcat prowling around our camp last night. And we’ve met so many men on this road. How do we know one of them isn’t a thief?”

“Most are just travelers, like us. Like those salesmen from Toledo we saw yesterday. They were nice enough.”

“Fancy men. Outsiders.” Emma slowed her rocking as Rebecca’s cries softened. “We can’t trust outsiders.” She nodded her head down the road behind them. “Like that one. Why does he have three horses? And why is he hanging back, almost out of sight?”

Mattie stood to see who Emma was talking about. For sure there was a man back there. Far enough away to be nearly indistinguishable in the distance. A sudden memory of Cole Bates sprang into her mind. This man reminded her of him, with his black hat and bay horse. But no one had seen him or his brothers since they left the Ohio River.

Isaac came up to them and lifted Leah from her seat on the ground. “We’re starting out again. It will put a strain on the horses, but we want to get to the end of this swamp before we camp tonight.”

While Emma followed him to the wagon with the sleeping baby, Mattie waited, looking for the man behind them. But while she had been distracted by Isaac, the traveler had disappeared from view. She took a few steps down the grassy trail. There was no sign of him.

“Mattie,” Daed called to her. “Keep up with us.”

“I’m coming.” She took one last look down the road. Had she seen movement in the green undergrowth?

Once the horses were hitched to the wagons, the men kept them going at a fast pace. Mattie followed behind. Daed’s wagon was last in the group today, following the Bontragers and Hertzlers. Josef Bender’s wagon led the way, with Jacob driving from his seat on the wheel horse. She could see him far ahead. As far away as he had ever been since their talk back in Holmes County. She was glad to follow behind the last wagon this afternoon, alone for once. Perhaps she would be able to make some sense of her jumbled thoughts.

Mattie kept up with the wagons as they passed the next mile marker, but then she saw a flash of red flying through the trees. She stopped to find the bird, searching the dark canopy. The bright red feathers belonged to a large woodpecker. But as soon as she spied it, it hopped around to the other side of the tree trunk it clung to. She walked farther along the path. There, it came back into view. She watched the black-and-white bird, as large as a hen, hammer its red head into the wood. The drumming sound echoed in the trees, then it flew off into the woods.

Looking around, Mattie saw that the wagons were far ahead of her on the road. She had stopped to watch the woodpecker for longer than she thought. She slapped at a mosquito and climbed back up the dike to the sunny surface. She had also wandered much closer to the Swamp’s black waters than she had thought. She shook her head. It wouldn’t do to let herself be distracted like that. Woodpeckers or not, she would have to hurry to catch up with the others.

As she started down the road, the sound of hoofbeats drifted toward her from the road behind. She turned to see the man with three horses coming up on her. She looked toward the wagons again. They were too far away to call to, and too far for her to catch up before the stranger would be upon her. A creeping tingle went down her back and she flexed her hands, suddenly cold. She started walking as quickly as she could. Maybe he would pass by without a word.

The hoofbeats grew closer, then stopped just behind her.

“Mattie-girl. I was afraid I wouldn’t see you again.”

Cole Bates flashed his handsome smile at her when she looked toward him, but she turned her back and kept walking. The horses followed her.

“You’ve let yourself get left behind by your folks.” He caught up to her, walking his horse beside her. “I have to wonder if you did that on purpose, knowing I was following behind.”

She refused to answer, but he kept on.

“I also have to wonder why such a pretty girl keeps on with these plain folk. You don’t look like one of them, you know.”

In spite of her resolve not to, Mattie glanced at him. Lies and trouble. He was a thief and a liar, just like the evil one. She walked faster, ignoring the stitch coming in her side. The wagons continued on, just out of calling distance.

Cole turned his horse in front of her, standing between her and the rest of the group, the horse hiding them from her sight. “I have an idea, Mattie-girl.”

“Don’t call me that.” She tried to walk around the horse, but the other two, following Cole on a lead, surrounded her.

He smiled at her. “You’re a pretty one. And I have a feeling you’d like a more adventurous life than you’ll ever have with those Amish.”

The way he dismissed her family made her shudder. As if they were the outsiders, and she belonged in Cole’s world.

The horse moved restlessly as he kept it reined in, trapping her. “I’m heading to Oregon.”

She was compelled to meet his eyes.

“Aye, you’ve heard of it, haven’t you? I think we’d do well together on the trail, you and me.” He leaned down from his saddle, his face close to hers. “I’ll take you to see things you’ve never even imagined, Mattie-girl.”

In spite of herself, Mattie couldn’t look away from him. “Have you seen the mountains?”

Cole dismounted and stepped close to her. She backed against the crowding horses circling the two of them. “I never have, but I’m going to.” He reached out and touched her cheek with the back of his hand, a single caress. “You have a mind to see them, Mattie-girl? Just say the word, and I’ll take you there.”

His hand slipped down to her shoulder, then to her waist. He drew her closer until she smelled the alcohol on his breath. His black eyes held hers.

“No.” Mattie shook her head and pressed back against the horse. Her heart pounded and she shivered with a sudden chill of cold sweat. “No, I can’t go with you.”

Cole smiled. “Oh, Mattie-girl, I think you will. But not now. I need the horses too, you know.” He shifted his hand from her waist to the back of her head and bent to capture her mouth with his. The kiss was hard and forceful, and she struggled against him until he moved his lips to her ear. “Watch for me. I’ll come get you one night.”

And suddenly she was free. She took one look at his face, cocksure and laughing, then turned and stumbled, catching her balance as she fought her way between the surrounding horses. She ran along the trail, dreading the sound she knew would come—the sound of the bay gelding’s hoofbeats overtaking her.

But the only thing she heard was Cole’s laughter. “You’ll come with me, Mattie-girl. I know you will.”