Chapter Twenty-Nine

Audrey woke up the next day at just before noon feeling puffy, tired and raw. Ance was gone, Penelope had cried until the early dawn hours and Audrey had taken over the task of weeping once her daughter had finally found sleep. 

Now a new day was upon them and, just as she always had, Audrey knew that she had to pick herself up and carry on as if she weren't worried sick. She had to be strong for Penelope. 

Audrey smelled meet frying. She rose from the bed, smiled down at her daughter curled up with her new doll, and made her way down the ladder and out of the loft. Getting Penelope up that ladder the night before had been a challenge and Audrey certainly wasn't looking forward to getting the girl down today. If Ance were here the man could toss her over one broad shoulder and....

Audrey shook her head. Ance wasn't here. He was off risking his life because Audrey had been too blinded by her work and caring for Penelope all these years to realize what a monster Rodger York was until it had been too late. 

After scolding herself and reminding herself that those types of self-loathing thoughts would not do anyone any good, Audrey focused her attention on their host as he stood over a pan full of sizzling meat at the small cook stove.

"What are you cooking?" Audrey inquired as she stepped closer. 

"Fried opossum," Old Man Thompson replied before smacking his lips and rubbing at his gaunt stomach. "No finer eatin' around. I caught it fresh just this morning." 

Audrey fought hard to keep from turning her nose up and maintain a polite smile. Beggars couldn't be choosers when it came to meals, and while fried opossum wasn't her idea of a good meal, it would fill their bellies and was very kind of Old Man Thompson to prepare for them. 

"Thank you for the meal," Audrey tipped her head. "I must attend to some personal matters outside but when I return is there anything I can do to help with the meal." 

"Just bring your big appetite, missy!" Old Man Thompson waved his wooden spoon in her face. "I've got bread in the oven and squirrel gravy over the fire pit." 

Audrey's smile faltered and only sheer iron will kept her from gagging. Rodents were not her first choices when preparing mealtimes at home. "Great," she managed to offer politely. "That sounds delicious." 

***

"Mommy, I loved that gravy!" Penelope beamed as Audrey washed the dishes from their meal in metal bucket on the porch and Penelope dried them. "Do you know how to make it like that?" 

Audrey shook her head. Thank the Lord she did not. While the meal hadn't tasted too horrible, it had been the mental thought of those beady little eyes, long tails and big yellow teeth that had nearly done her appetite in. "No, I don't, sweetheart." 

"That's okay." Penelope shrugged. "I'll bet Ance does. He knows how to make just about everything. He cooked us some squirrels before you found us." 

"I'm sure he'd be happy to make you some squirrel gravy," Audrey assured her daughter. "Make sure you get all the water off those plates now, we don't want to stack them in the cupboards wet."

Penelope frowned as she ran the towel over the plate. "I wonder what Ance ate today." 

Audrey's heart tightened at the innocent concern in her daughter's voice. She reached out a soapy finger nad poke her nose. "Probably steak and potatoes." 

Penelope giggled. "Or fried muskrat." 

Audrey shivered. "I've had quite enough rodent to satisfy me a good long while." 

"Ladies?" Old Man Thompson called as he rushed from the woods and toward them at a fast pace. 

Audrey took one glace at his harried appearance and worry in his eyes and tensed. "What's going on?" she asked. 

"We uh..." Old Man Thompson glimpsed over his shoulder and that's when Audrey heard the hoof beats pounding toward them. "Y'all need to get in that house and stay there," Old Man Thompson encouraged. "We've got company a'comin'!" 

***

Ance gnawed on his jerked beef as he fought to stay awake in the saddle. He'd been riding hard since leaving Old Man Thompson's the night before and it was growing later in the evening with every minute. He'd have to stop soon before his mare collapsed beneath him. 

Ance wished he didn't need rest. He wanted all of this settled and done as quickly as it could be. But he wouldn't be any good in a fight if he didn't rest a bit along the way and the journey would take a hell of a lot longer if he pushed his mare until she died. 

With a sigh, Ance led his mare down into a sheltered draw. He slid from her back, removed her saddle and let her quench her thirst in the runoff stream. Ance did the same before wetting his bandana and cooling off the back of his neck. 

He and his mare would rest for a few hours before continuing on their way. If Ance continued at this pace he could be out of Indian Territory and hunting Barnaby by tomorrow night. 

Riding with Audrey and Penelope had taken much longer because he hadn't pushed them too hard. He'd stopped at least twice a day and every night. The trail sure was quiet without them... Ance had always been a man who loved the silence but he guess he didn't mind the noise so bad when it was those two ladies causing the racket. 

Ance grabbed a hardtack biscuit and went to the top of the hill to scan his surroundings. Five figures on horseback were illuminated by the glowing sun in the distance and he paused. It would seem the Indians were keeping an eye on him. 

Ance raised a hand in greeting and to let them know he knew they were there and meant them no harm. One of the figures raised a hand back and they all turned in unison and rode out of sight. Ance wasn't too concerned for his safety. Indians weren't the savages that the government seemed to want folks to believe...at least not all of them. Hell, Ance trusted them more than he did most other folks.

He would certainly not let his guard down completely during his rest but he didn't foresee any problems. It had only been a scouting party was his guess, and they'd been curious about his presence. He was a lone man out here riding through and of no threat to them. 

Darkness had settled around Ance's resting place when he realized that perhaps he hadn't been as correct about the Indian's lack of interest as he'd thought. Suddenly two of them were appearing at his side which meant at least three were hiding somewhere in the dark. 

"Good evening, y'all." Ance waved his arm toward the small campfire. "Have a seat and rest a while." 

Without a word both men crouched down across from him. Ance studied them out of the corner of his eye as he poked at the fire with a stick. They were young braves, probably early twenties, and they were calm and didn't seem to be looking for a fight. 

"Are you hungry?" Ance asked. "I don't have much but you can have some hardtack and jerked beef if it suits you." Ance knew that when dealing with the Indians it was best to be as polite and welcoming as you could. They were used to being treated poorly and respect meant everything to them. 

"No," one replied quickly in accented English. "I am Running Deer and you are in our territory." 

Ance nodded. "I know. I'm only passing through. I don't mean anyone any harm." 

"We get many that say they only pass through. And they kill our braves and force our women." 

Ance shook his head. "I have no interest in killing anyone unless they attempt to kill me first and I got enough problems caused by women without adding yours to them." 

The braves leaned in close to one another and whispered quietly in their language. Finally they turned back to Ance and the only brave who seemed to speak nodded. "You have been in our territory before. Your face is one we know." 

"I come through from time to time," Ance admitted. "I like the peace and quiet I find here." 

"But it is not peace and quiet that brings you this time," the brave noted pointedly. "You are in a rush. Why?" 

Ance pulled a cigar from his shirt pocket and dug in his pants pocket for his matches. "No disrespect meant, gentleman, but my business is exactly that. I like my privacy."

"When in our territory you have no privacy. There are too many men riding through. We want to know why." 

"I have no idea," Ance shrugged. "I'm by myself."

The brave raised a thick black brow. "You have no idea why a big group of men on horses is going in the direction you came from?" 

Ance  felt his stomach drop into his feet. A big group? It couldn't be....Surely if Barnaby was riding toward Old Man Thompson's, if the man had been trailing them, Ance would have known..... 

"You wouldn't happen to know any of those men on horses, would you?" 

"They are after your woman and child, are they not? The ones you left with Old Man Thompson?"

Ance pushed himself to his feet, panic in it's rawest and purest form gnawing at his gut, though he worked hard to maintain a stoic expression. "You say those men were heading the way I just came from?" 

"Yes. They appeared to be in a hurry. Barnaby Wallace does much business with our people here in the territory. We recognized him among them. I do not care for this man or his business ways and thought you would appreciate knowing of his presence." 

Ance didn't waste time replying as he grabbed his saddle and tossed it over the mare's back. The Indian's rose as well.  "You have never caused our people problems and that is why we told you of what we saw. We will part ways now and wish you the best of luck with your woman and child." 

Ance merely offered a curt nod before adding his saddlebags to the horse's back and letting out a yell to urge her into the fastest gallop she could manage. If he had left Penelope and Audrey like sitting ducks for that fat bastard... if Barnaby had taken them, or worse, killed them.... Ance dug his heels deeper and prayed he hadn't made such a mistake.