Page 37 of Redeeming the Outlaw
Esther leaned on the wooden fence, her eyes tracing the outline of the muddy pen.
The hogs snuffled and oinked, their large frames pressing against the walls of their enclosure as they caught a whiff of the rotting scent just beyond their reach. She whipped her head toward Sarah, eyes wide with horror.
“You can’t be serious,” she exclaimed, her voice thick with concern. She gestured frantically toward Big Joe.
“He will be completely gone within thirty minutes,” Sarah replied without emotion, as she tugged on the other pant leg.
Esther hesitated for a moment, swallowing the lump in her throat. She had never imagined her secret longing for excitement would lead her to this grim task.
“It seems you’ve done this before. What are you doing?”
“I have to burn his clothes.”
“Whit is going to die if we don’t get help.” Esther stomped her foot.
“Whit may already be dead,” Sarah countered, glaring at Esther. “It would go faster if you helped me.”
“I-I don’t think I can.”
“You need to draw a map. Inside the barn, there is a table. Justin can show you, and then I need him back out here.” She tossed Big Joe’s pants aside and used her knife to cut open his shirt, revealing a greasy stained-colored union suit. “In a box, you’ll find small pieces of paper and a pencil. Draw from Flat River to where you were camping.”
Esther’s head was hurting. “I don’t know where Flat River is from here.”
With a grunt, Sarah pushed Big Joe onto his back and examined his bruised face. “We’ll leave him in his grimy union suit,” she muttered.
Esther watched from a distance, saying a quick silent prayer for the small blessing of not having to assist with undressing Joe’s heavy body. Rolling back on her heels, Sarah stood and pointed in different directions.
“Flat River is five miles that way,” she gestured toward the horizon.
“The Chapmans are over there,” she pointed toward a distant tree line.
“And the Picketts are in that direction,” she motioned toward the nearby creek.
Grabbing the rope Esther tossed her, Sarah tied one end to Joe’s ankle and the other to the saddle horn. “You need to go in the barn now, because it is going to get very noisy.”
Esther’s heart raced as she dropped the lead line and darted into the barn. The sound of squealing hogs filled her ears, making her stomach churn. She tried to push the noise out of her mind as she prayed silently for forgiveness.
With shaky hands, she finished sketching a map of the path from the farmhouse to where she had left Whit as Sarah entered the barn. Justin led Big Joe’s horse to one of the empty stalls.
As the boy took care of the horses, Sarah took the hastily drawn map from Esther and carefully wrote out a message in hieroglyphs on the back before rolling it up into a tight scroll.
“What are you doing?” Esther asked.
“Getting help.”
“But it looks like gibberish.”
“Briggs will know what it means.”
Esther was in awe of the woman’s determination and composure amid such turmoil. Sarah walked to where a series of cages lined the outside barn wall. She carefully opened a cage and drew out a blue and green pigeon, attaching the map and picture note to its leg. Esther watched intently, her hazel eyes wide with fascination as Sarah pressed a soft kiss to the bird’s head before walking it to the barn door and releasing it into the sky.
“Go on now, little one,” she whispered to the pigeon. “Find Briggs and have him bring help.”
As the bird disappeared over the fields, Esther felt a strange mix of hope and trepidation settle in her chest.
“How long will it take for it to get there?”
“Not long at all. She’ll return with a note, or the chamber will be empty.”
