Page 28 of The Marshal's Bride
“I’m Baxter Hartman,” the man said. “My wife has a sister who’s non-verbal. That’s Sawyer, Annamae, Jones, Bethany, and Tramp. We heard the whistle. You heard the man. Fan out.”
“One second before you go. Whit is at the south end of the property, and Ranger will be coming north from the Chapmans. Help is coming. No shots unless you’ve already got the girl. These men are dangerous and they aren’t above hurting anyone. They’ve already hurt a woman in town.”
“Bethany, where was Tommy headed?” the man named Sawyer asked.
“He was going to talk to Mr. Kendrick about trapping that beaver when the weather turns cold.”
“We can head that way,” Baxter said. “The Kendricks haven’t been here long, but they are between us and the mountain. Tommy Moore is the best tracker in the area. So, if we can reach him, it will level the odds.”
“I appreciate that, Baxter.”
They rode silently, apart from quiet murmurings between Annamae and the man called Sawyer. Sam scanned the horizon, waiting for something to pop out at him. Finally, he saw it.
“What’s over there?” he called out, pointing toward a narrow, barely used path. There were deep ruts in the ground, signifying that wagons had traveled through the muddy trail.
“That’s the trail that leads to the Kendrick ranch.” Baxter explained. “Like I said, they haven’t been here long. But those are fresh grooves.” Two short whistles and a hand signal sent riders down the trail. “Jones and Tramp, you take the road along the creek. The one where the stallions run.”
“On it, boss.”
“We’ll follow you,” Annamae said, moving behind Sam and Baxter, along with Bethany.
“We’re going a bit further north. A net strategy will work with the Moore Mountain on one side and our ranch on the other.”
It had only been fifteen or so minutes later when they found the wagon abandoned in the trees. Sam dropped to the ground and ran towards the wagon. Blankets and casks of flour were in the bed, but no sign of Hope or the riders that had taken her.
“Can I help you with something?” a dark voice asked from the tree line.
Sam jerked upright.
“Marshal Sam Davis, I’m looking for the men that stole this wagon and a little girl. Who are you?” His hand was on his pistol, but something about the man seemed familiar.
“Call me Kendrick. What are you doing on my land and how long have you been here?”
“Mr. Kendrick, we just got here. I’m looking for a girl that’s missing. She’s my daughter. She was taken by several men, and they injured a woman in town. Have you seen a little blonde-haired girl?”
“No, sir. But I might have someone who can help.” The man stepped out of the tree line, and Sam realized he wasn’t alone. A young man dressed in buckskin, who looked an awful lot like Ranger, followed him out. “Tommy, can you find anything?”
Sam watched the young man kneel and touch the ground. His head tilted as if listening to something. “Three men, medium height, one has a limp. You can tell he is dragging his leg. Looks like they are headed to the cabin over there.” He stood up and looked straight at Sam. “How sure are you there was a little girl with them?”
“They took her from the churchyard. Are you saying she’s not with them now?” Fear gripped him at the thought that they had abandoned her somewhere else.
Shots echoed through the air. Two sets of three echoed loudly. Someone had been found.
“I don’t think they have the little girl,” Tommy whispered.
Kendrick nodded and clasped Sam’s shoulder. “You stay with Tommy. I’ll see what they’ve found. Hopefully, they didn’t upset my pregnant sheep too badly.”
“We’ll go with you,” Bethany offered. “If the little girl is there, she’ll want a woman’s touch.”
The rancher looked her up and down before giving her a dismissive nod and turning back to Sam. “We’ll be back soon.”
“I appreciate your help.” Sam shook the man’s hand and watched him start down the nearby path, with Bethany and Annamae following closely behind. Looking at Tommy with suspicion, Sam had to ask, “How is it that the two of you were out here, just when we were searching for something?”
“I asked if I could set some traps for the winter. We’ve never had someone between us and the Hartmans, and I figured it was better to ask than be shot at.” Tommy stopped abruptly. “Do you hear that?”
Sam tilted his head, he could hear something, but it was faint. He shook his head. “No. What do you hear?”
“It sounds like a duck, but something’s wrong with it.” Tommy straightened and turned to face the empty field south of them.
