Forever Phoebe by Chalon Linton

Chapter 27

The pistol knocked against Phoebe’s thigh with every step she took. Cold. Hard. A bleak finality. Yet Phoebe did not fear her destination. Facing the Bride Snatcher and whatever he planned would be nothing compared to the sheer strength it took for Phoebe to step out of the cocoon of Franklin’s arms.

She crossed the field and turned toward the river. Darkness was quickly encroaching, and an unseasonable chill burned through Phoebe’s bones. The scuttle of a rabbit stopped her breath and her feet. When she heard nothing more than the babble of water and the pulsing of her heart, she continued on, reaching the riverbank and then turning downstream to the place she’d first caught sight of the wicked man.

She pushed past the overgrown brambles and rounded the bend. There Hannah sat. Her head drooped. Her hands were bound behind her back, and a strip of fabric was tied over her mouth. The black horse Phoebe had seen before stood with its reins secured to a nearby branch. Phoebe stifled her inclination to call out. Instead, she ducked behind a bush and surveyed the surroundings. Shadows from the trees nearby made it difficult to decipher the forms of the trees farther away, and the darkness was deepening. Phoebe swiftly moved forward, and Hannah looked up at her approach. Her blue eyes filled with tears, and she violently shook her head.

Phoebe’s heart raced as she fumbled with the knots binding Hannah’s hands. They finally fell loose. “Get to the horse,” Phoebe whispered.

Hannah cried as she shook her hands free and pulled the cloth from her face. “It’s a trap, Phoebe. He’s nearby, and he plans to take us both—”

Phoebe clamped a hand over Hannah’s mouth. “Get to the horse,” she repeated as she helped Hannah stand.

Hannah leaned against Phoebe and slowly limped the short distance to the horse.

“Climb up and ride astride.” Phoebe locked her fingers, forming a step from which Hannah could mount. Hannah lifted her leg and wobbled sideways, missing her mark. “Come again,” Phoebe encouraged. Hannah reached up and held the saddle, then placed her foot into Phoebe’s hands. “Now.” Phoebe stood, and her momentum combined with Hannah’s efforts lifted Hannah to the horse’s back. Phoebe untied the reins while her friend struggled to sit upright.

She tugged the leather cinch free from the tree branch and turned to see the kidnapper standing only six feet away.

“Well done.” The man clapped his hands with his compliment. “You are fiery indeed. It will not be hard to find a man wanting a willful wife to tame.”

Hannah now held the reins. “Come on, Phoebe,” she called.

The Bride Snatcher was too close. Phoebe knew she could not save them both. “Go!” she shouted.

“I’m not leaving you,” Hannah cried out. The horse remained still.

“Go!” Phoebe shouted again, pushing against the horse’s shoulder, but Hannah refused. Phoebe pulled the pistol from her pocket and shot it into the air. The horse jumped, then bolted forward into the gray night. Phoebe kept her eyes trained on the man before her.

His glare twisted into a wicked smile, and his white teeth shone in the faint light that remained. He stepped forward. “What is your plan now? You’ve used your one shot to save your friend. Noble, though I’ll find her again.”

Phoebe held the gun with both hands and pointed it at the man. He laughed and stepped closer. “You don’t believe me?” Another step. “Go on, then.” The Bride Snatcher now stood only a foot away.

Phoebe’s arms began to shake. She knew she had used her only shot, but the weapon was the only thing between her and the kidnapper, so she did not lower the gun. The kidnapper’s laugh bounced through the nearby trees. He leaned forward, his shoulder brushed the pistol before he reached up and yanked it from Phoebe’s hand. He tossed it aside. “Foolish girl.” He grabbed Phoebe’s hair and pulled her face only inches from his own. His hot breath wafted over her skin. “You will regret following me.” He yanked Phoebe’s hair lower, and she yelped. Her skull seared with pain. The kidnapper’s boot connected with her side, and Phoebe tumbled over in the dirt.

She pressed her eyes closed and tried to shake the burning sensation from her scalp and the ache in her ribs. The sound of emptiness rang through her ears as her cloak tangled around her legs. She reached for the clasp and thrashed to free herself of its folds, sucking in the night air and allowing the coolness to soothe her wounds. She pressed her palms to the ground and slipped her boots beneath herself so she might stand. “Where are the other girls you’ve taken?” she asked.

The man’s laugh echoed through the trees. “Sold to the highest bidder.”

“Reprobate,” Phoebe mumbled.

“Stupid girl.” The Bride Snatcher took two quick steps and kicked Phoebe again. She landed on her back, the wind knocked from her lungs. “Money can buy anything: rank, power, loyalty, a wife.” His sneer spread across his face. “Simply ask the stableboy who delivered my message to you for only a farthing.” The man came at her slowly this time. Faint, dappled light fell through the leaves overhead. He stood over her as she struggled to take a full breath. “You should fetch a handsome sum.” He squatted beside Phoebe, and with another evil chuckle, he grabbed her chin and forced her head to the left, then to the right. He extended his thumb and brushed it along Phoebe’s cheek. “Yes . . .” He grinned. “You’ll suit well.” Phoebe jerked her head free. The Bride Snatcher stood and laughed again. He looked about and took a deep breath.

Phoebe slowly crawled backward, desperate to be removed from the vile man. She moved one hand at a time, hoping if she created enough distance, she might be able to ignore the throbbing in her ribs and run away and lose him in the darkness. Her right hand reached back and knocked against a rock. Phoebe extended her fingers and found the stone fit perfectly in her palm.

The man walked to where Phoebe had left her cloak. He plucked it from the dirt and walked toward her. “Let’s be on our way.”

Phoebe pushed herself to sit upright and with all of her might, she flung the stone at the kidnapper’s head. Her aim was true. The rock hit him in the brow and stopped his advance. “Argh!” The man screamed, raising his hand to his hairline as Phoebe scrambled to her feet. “You’ll pay for that.” He charged toward her.

The thudding of horse hooves drew near. “Phoebe!” Hannah cried out. She pulled the reins hard and drove the black horse directly into the kidnapper. His body flew sideways and struck the ground with a sickening crack.

Hannah stopped the horse, and both women stared at the crumpled body of their assailant. Phoebe clamped both hands over her mouth. Tears filled her eyes, and she turned to Hannah. Hannah slid from the saddle, and Phoebe ran to her. They fell into each other’s arms and dropped to the ground in tears.

***

Hannah’s entire body shook. Phoebe draped a blanket around her shoulders and sat beside her friend on the couch. “You were very brave to return,” Phoebe said.

“That man is evil. I couldn’t allow something to happen to you.” Tears wet Hannah’s eyes once again.

“Are you sure you don’t wish to lie down, Miss Vane?” Mrs. Adler asked.

Hannah shook her head. “I only wish to forget this entire ordeal.”

Franklin walked back into the drawing room. His eyes found Phoebe’s almost at once, and she watched him inhale deeply. “The man is secured in the stable,” he said.

“You are certain he will not escape?” Phoebe asked.

“His hands and feet are bound, and Windly has posted seven men to watch his every move. I’ve sent a rider to Greendale and another to inform Lord Granby and your brothers.” He paced to the window and scrubbed his right hand over his face.

“It will be a long night. I shall get a fresh pot of tea.” Mrs. Adler excused herself.

Franklin turned abruptly to face Hannah. “Thank you, Miss Vane.”

“Phoebe deserves the praise. If she had not come . . .” Hannah sniffed and swiped a finger beneath her wet eyes.

“Of course I came.” Phoebe grabbed Hannah’s hand, tears misting her own eyes. She turned Hannah’s palm upward. Angry red welts ran the length of Hannah’s palm. “You must allow Mrs. Adler to tend to your wounds.”

Hannah pulled her hand free, and with the forefinger of her opposite hand, she touched the tender, swollen skin. “The horse would not obey my command.” She gave a mirthless laugh. “You scared him with that blasted gun.”

Phoebe’s eyes grew wide with Hannah’s curse, and then she offered a small smile. “That was the intent.”

“When the shot sounded through the trees . . .” Franklin threw his head back and groaned. “My feet could not run fast enough. You cannot imagine my relief at finding you unharmed. Guilt would have haunted me forever if something would have happened to you,” he said.

Phoebe extended her hand, an invitation to him. He blinked his eyes clear and quickly closed the distance to accept her offering. He cradled her fingers in his own and sat beside her on the couch.

“I am well,” Phoebe said. “We both are.”

“If you had not let Phoebe come to the river, he . . .” Hannah’s voice dropped to a whisper. “He said he would have killed me.”

“It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” Franklin stroked his thumb across the back of Phoebe’s hand. “Letting her walk away. Not intervening.”

Horse hooves sounded like a charging cavalry outside the window.

“I know something that may be harder,” Phoebe said, offering a sympathetic smile.

Franklin looked at her in confusion.

“Explaining your choice to my brothers.”