Page 30 of Morning Dove

Light filled the room as he reached for the loaf of bread sitting on the counter. “Stealing food.”

“I can see that much. Why?”

Betsey walked into the kitchen, the oil lamp in her hand filling the room with a pale orange light. She set the lamp down and lit another, the room brightening enough he could see what he was doing.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“I’m wondering the same thing,” Aaron said.

Ben headed to the pantry door and opened it before saying, “Walter took Morning Dove.”

Aaron’s soft curses followed Betsey’s gasp.

“I told you she wasn’t at Ben’s house, Aaron!”

The two argued as Ben filled the pillowcase with more bread, a hunk of cheese and dried meat. He had no idea how long it would take to get to wherever it was Aaron had said he’d met Morning Dove, but he’d steal more along the way if he had to.

He shut the pantry door when he stepped back into the kitchen and grabbed the counter when the room tilted. He closed his eyes, blinking past the dizziness as Aaron said, “She wasn’t at supper. Betsey wanted me to go looking for her, but Morning Dove is an adult. I didn’t think she’d appreciate me hunting her down like an errant child who hadn’t come home before dark. What happened?”

He lifted his head to tell him, but Betsey gasped so loud, her hand flying to her mouth, that he closed his with a snap.

“Ben!” She hurried across the room, her hand going to his neck. “What happened?”

Her touch was gentle, but his skin burned where she touched him. She pulled him into the light, her eyes filling with horror.

“What did this?”

“A rope.”

“A rope…” Her words died away as horror filled her eyes, the blood draining from her face to leave her ghastly white.

“I found Morning Dove down by the creek riding Wind Chaser. Walter found us not long after.”

Betsey forced him into a chair and lit another lamp, setting them all on the table. She messed with his neck before finding a gash on the back of his head.

“Don’t move,” she said, hurrying to the sink to draw water. When she returned, her eyes filled with unshed tears.

“I’m fine, Betsey.”

She met his gaze and shook her head. “No, you’re not, Ben.” She glanced at his neck. “You look like a man who’s been hanged.”

Probably because he had been. He didn’t say the words out loud. There was no reason to.

He let Betsey fuss over him, wincing when she cleaned the abrasions on his neck. If it looked half as bad as it felt, he could understand her horror at seeing him. His flesh felt raw, his throat still aching when he talked.

Aaron sat down at the table across from him and said, “What happened?”

He told them everything he could remember, those tears in Betsey’s eyes falling when he said the last thing he remembered was hanging from the tree. He grabbed her hand, squeezing it before pushing away from the table and standing.

“Where are you going?”

Ben picked up the pillowcase and headed for the door. “To go get her back.” He hadn’t taken four steps before his knees gave out. He hit the floor hard, his teeth aching when his jaw slammed into the floorboards.

“Ben!”

Betsey’s voice sounded loud inside his head. Strong hands wrapped around him before he felt weightless, his feet dragging the floor as he was moved and he opened his eyes when something soft cushioned underneath him. Morning Dove’s scent hit him a moment later.

He was in her bed, he noticed, when he opened his eyes. Betsey was taking his boots off and he heard her tell Aaron to go get Doc Reid. He wanted to protest, but he passed out before he even had a chance.

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