“Of course. I am sorry. Let us hope Clover is understanding. If you need to smooth some troubled waters, call on me.”
“Clover will understand.”
“Ah, the bliss of the newlywed.”
Grendall chuckled as he led Ballard to the door and ordered the carriage brought around for him. Ballard was tempted to ask what the man found soamusing, but hesitated. He did not want to appear ignorant about married life. Still resisting the urge to question Grendall, Ballard said good-bye and got into the carriage.
He forgot all about Grendall’s remarks when he spotted Aaron Spaulding outside the Sly Dog. The man had indicated a strong interest in horse dealing after seeing the stallion Grendall had bought. Ballard stopped the carriage, tipped the driver, and hurried after Spaulding, hoping to get some stronger commitment from the man.
It was dark before Ballard left the Sly Dog with several ales under his belt and a promise from Spaulding to buy another stallion and three mares if Ballard could provide them within a year. He paused near a shadowed alley to try and put some order to his clothes. A grunt of surprise escaped him when he was suddenly grabbed from behind and dragged into the alley.
Caught completely off-guard, his head a little clouded by drink, Ballard was unable to recover from his surprise in time to win the fight. He got in a few good blows to his two attackers, however, before he was brought down. As he lay in the filthy alley, one man kicked him in the ribs and the head. Ballard clung desperately to consciousness. He knew that without it, he would be ready prey for any ruffian who happened along. When the other man found only a few coins in his pocket and kicked him again, Ballard tried fruitlessly to grab the man by the boot and trip him.
“He ain’t dead, Jake,” grumbled the heavier of the two men. “Dillingsworth said he wanted him dead.”
“I ain’t risking my neck for that fop,” grumbled Jake as he pocketed Ballard’s money.
“Maybe you oughta worry about what Dillingsworth’ll do if’n he finds out we didn’t kill this feller.”
“Ain’t worried about that neither, ‘cause we ain’t gonna be here.”
“We ain’t?”
“No, Tim, me boy, we ain’t. Dillingsworth was fool enough to pay us after we done as he wanted. He was just so mad that horse didn’t die, I reckon he weren’t thinking too straight. Fine by me. I’m taking my share of the money and getting outta here. Maybe to one of them big cities. Oughta be lots of work there. You’d be smart to come with me.”
“Yeh, think I will at that. What about this feller?”
“Leave him. I will sorely miss seeing Dillingsworth’s face when this rogue comes back from the dead. The fool’s in for a powerful surprise when he trots over to comfort the grieving widow on the morrow.”
Both men laughed, delivered one more kick to Ballard’s ribs, and hurried away. Ballard cursed as he fought the waves of pain washing over him and waited to be sure both men were gone. Then he tried to stagger to his feet. It took several tries before he had the strength to make his way home.
As he stumbled along the street to Clover’s house, he wondered what to do about Dillingsworth—if there was anything hecoulddo. He knew from Grendall that no one stood against Dillingsworth. There was little chance a rough backwoodsman would be heeded if he accused the man. All Ballard knew was that he had to get back to Clover, had to get himself patched up and ready to face Thomas Dillingsworth in the morning. It was going to be a pleasure tothwart the man once again. He also planned to get Clover out of Langleyville before Dillingsworth could try anything else. A man who would poison a horse and pay to have him murdered was capable of anything.
Ballard realized he was deeply afraid for Clover.
Clover sprawled on her bed and stared up at the ceiling. The last thing she felt like doing was sleeping. She had come to her room to escape all the sympathetic looks of her kin, old and new, and their weak excuses for Ballard’s continued absence. Now only her own thoughts and feelings tormented her. She decided that was enough for anyone.
She was a little surprised to discover that Ballard’s defection hurt far more than being jilted by Thomas had. The explanation she gave herself, that she had been intimate with Ballard, did not really satisfy her. She did not really want to look much deeper for an answer, however, especially not since he had chosen Sarah Marsten over her. There could be no other explanation for Ballard’s long disappearance with Sarah.
As Clover clenched her hands into fists where they lay on top of the coverlet, she fought the urge to cry. She refused to let this betrayal break her. If this chance for security for her family was gone, she would find another one. She would have to be strong to do that. It would be a great folly to allow self-pity and hurt pride to rule her.
“Oh, Ballard, you great oaf of a Scotsman, where the hell are you? Please, please, do not do this to me.”
She turned onto her side and clutched the pillow.The deep breath she took to steady herself filled her nose with the clean, male scent of him, and tears blurred her eyes. She quickly reached for the anger inside her and used it to push the other feelings aside. When and if Ballard returned, she preferred to meet him with righteous fury rather than weak tears.
Ballard slumped against one of the short pillars that framed the stairs leading to Clover’s home and gathered the strength to climb them. He was pleased to see that no one appeared to be visiting the family. That meant that his absence was probably not public yet and that Thomas had not already come to claim the prize he thought he had won.I will be waiting for the bastard when he does show,Ballard thought grimly as he made his painful way up the steps and into the house.
“Where the bloody hell have ye been?” demanded Shelton the minute Ballard entered the parlor.
Stopping inches inside the room, Ballard stared at his young brother in some surprise. Shelton and Lambert stood glaring at him in a way that made him feel like an errant youth. If the situation were not so serious, he would have found the reversal of roles highly amusing.
“Where is Clover?” Ballard asked after a quick look around the room revealed that she was not present.
“‘Tis a fine time to be worrying about her now. Ye should have given a thought or two to her before ye ran off with that slut Sarah Marsten. Curse it, Ballard, aside from it being all wrong, how could ye put me and Lambert into such an awkward position? What did ye expect us to tell Clover?”
At that moment Agnes rose from her chair and walked over to him. Ballard eyed her a bit warily, then began to relax. The expression of disappointment and disgust she had worn when he had first entered the room had been replaced by one of confusion and concern.
“You are bleeding, Ballard.” She gingerly touched the drying streak of blood by his ear.
