Page 4 of Loved to Death

I’ll be damned if I take a handout. I’d rather starve. I refuse to buy on credit like a common farmer. But I can’t walk far enough on foot to outdistance Father’s reach, and I’ve spent most of my money on this room.He put a handin his pocket and pulled out his last two silver dollars.

Thomas put his money back, sat on the bed, and sighed. He longed to see Jeffrey and Sarah, but he couldn’t. Despite what his father thought of him, Thomas was a man of his word. He’d said a week, and he’d meant it. They needed to learn their place.

Then he thought about Jack’s saloon. Maybe if he could corner one of the businessmen while they were drinking, he’d have better luck convincing them to hire him. Pleased to have a backup plan, he went downstairs to get supper.

Later that night once the sun had set, Thomas meandered down to Jack’s saloon. He walked up to the front door, but before he opened it, a female voice nearby said, “Excuse me, sir, could you help me?”

He turned toward the voice, but the woman was standing in the darkness between the buildings.

“Yes?” he asked, moving closer. She appeared to be his age or slightly younger. Her black hair wasn’t in a bun or braid, and it had twigs in it. Her pale skin was smudged with dirt, and her skirt was torn. Thomas frowned. He had no money to spare, but even if he did, he didn’t condone begging.

The girl pointed toward the north end of town. “I was traveling from Salem in a stagecoach, and we were held up. They made us get out, and when they were busy searching the coach, I made a run for it. I’ve been trying to find my way back to town for hours. I was supposed to meet my uncle here, but I don’t know where the stagecoach would have stopped and I don’t even know where my uncle lives.”

Immediately sympathizing, Thomas moved to stand in front of her. When he’d been inquiring for a job, he’d overheard a store clerk complaining that the stagecoach hadn’t arrived. “You must be exhausted. Of course I’ll help. What’s your uncle’s name? I know most of the folks around here.”

“Earnest Gibson.”

“Old Man Gibson is your uncle?” Thomas didn’t know the man had any relatives.

“Great-uncle,” she corrected.

Thomas pointed to the woods behind the saloon. “His farm is a couple of miles that direction. The road to his farm is just a few buildings down.”

“Could you show me where the road is?”

“I’ll walk you there myself. Can’t very well leave you out here all alone.” He looked back at the saloon. “I’ll borrow a lantern from Jack and get you something to drink. You must be thirsty after such a long walk.”

He started to step away but she grasped his shirt sleeve and stopped him. “Show me the road first, so I know I can trust you.”

Scowling, Thomas said, “I assure you, Miss…”

“Baker. Polly Baker.”

“I assure you, Miss Baker, I’m a man of my word.”

“Please?”

He saw tears forming in her eyes and gave in. The poor girl had been through a trauma and clearly wasn’t thinking straight. “All right, if you insist.” He started walking behind the building and gestured for her to follow. “The road is this way.”

When they arrived at the cut-off for the road, Thomas pointed into the darkness of the trees where the moonlight couldn’t reach. “This is it. Ready for me to go borrow that lantern now?”

She gave him a smile. “I think not.”

His eyebrows furrowed, and he opened his mouth to speak, but the words froze in his throat when her blue eyes turned black.

In a split second, she was on him. Her legs clamped around his waist, her arms around his shoulders, and her mouth latched onto his neck.

A startled gasp came out of him, followed by a sharp expletive when her teeth punctured his skin. He roughly grabbed her waist and shoved her as hard as he could. She didn’t budge. Prickling fear at the base of his skull made him try again. If anything, she held tighter, and a little hum of pleasure came out of her throat. Growing horror rose in his chest. Sloppy swallowing noises made it clear that she wasdrinkinghis blood.

“Somebody! Hel—” he bellowed at the top of his lungs before she clamped a hand down over his mouth.

He ran toward Jack’s while trying to push her off. But he only got a few steps before she shifted her weight, stuck one of her legs down, and tripped him. They tumbled to the ground, rolled a couple of times, and stilled with her on top. She pressed even harder on his mouth to keep it shut.

Dark spots floated around his head, but he refused to pass out without a fight. He opened his mouth wide and bit down on the palm of her hand until he tasted her blood.

Her teeth came out of his neck, and her black eyes met his. Instead of moving her wounded hand away from his teeth, she grinned. “Feisty,” she said before latching back onto his spurting neck.

He had one last thought before succumbing to the darkness.The devil has come to drag me to hell for my sins.

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