“Aye. It can make a mon do some foolish things.”
“Ballard, is something wrong?”
“Why do ye ask?”
“Oh, perhaps the way you keep going so quiet, glowering at the road. I am having some difficulty resisting the urge to smack you on the back to try to force you just to spit out whatever is making your mood so sour.”
“Are ye now.”
“I am. The evening was very pleasant and ‘tis somewhat annoying that you would try to ruin the nice feelings a good meal and good company have left me with.”
“Sorry, lass.”
“Do not apologize. Just tell me what is wrong.” Ballard took another deep breath and decided to try again.
Thomas listened to Poonley’s report and smiled, causing Poonley, Ben, Toombs, and Big Jim to relax. MacGregor was traveling without outriders, just him and Clover on a wagon. Apparently Thomas and his men had kept out of sight long enough for MacGregor to let down his guard, to think Thomas had given up his search for vengeance. Thomas felt victory almost within his grasp.
“I followed their wagon to Potsdam’s stable and looked inside. He only has the one musket,” Poonley finished as he sat down at the table. Helen hastily poured him an ale. “Thankee, woman,” he murmured, and patted her plump backside as she walked away.
“Did you unload the musket?” Thomas cursed when he saw the arrested look on Poonley’s homely face. Obviously the thought had never occurred to the dolt. “Very good, Poonley,” Thomas said sarcastically. “And when MacGregor starts shooting at us, I hope he hits you!”
“We’ll grab him afore he can reload,” said Big Jim.
Thomas fixed his attention on him. “You said there is a good place to hide along the road Ballard must take?”
“Yup. It be thick with trees. Even better, it slopes down on the sides so ‘tis powerful easy to hide. We can tuck up on either side of the road, wait until the bastard’s right in the midst of us, and slaughter the pig.”
“You sound as if you mean to go after him with guns blazing.”
“You can’t be too careful around a man like MacGregor.”
“And just what is so special about this cursed Scot?” Thomas snapped.
Big Jim shrugged. “He be a demmed good fighter.”
“Well, his fighting days are over. But Ido notwant you leaping up and emptying all your guns at him. I want him to die slowly. And I want Clover alive.” Thomas rubbed his temples, though it did little to ease the pain in his head. “I want him alive long enough to know that I have Clover, and to realize what I am going to do to her.”
“Why do you want that girl so bad?” demanded Ben. “She ain’t got no flesh on her bones. And she been sharing MacGregor’s bed for weeks. That MacGregor done looks a good randy sort of gent. I bet he done had that little girl more times than you can count. You got coin. Why not just kill ‘em both and go home? You made it clear you ain’t liking it here.”
Thomas had to take several deep breaths, then a long swallow of the poor ale Helen served, before he felt calm enough to reply. He wanted to shoot the man for reminding him that Clover was no longer innocent. The thought of her lying with MacGregor, of giving him her lithe body, had eaten away at him since her wedding day. All the time he had courted her, he had treated her with the utmost care to ensure that her total innocence would be preserved for their wedding night. Her father’s insistence that they never be left alone for a moment had helped him stick to his plan. When his intentions changed because of her poverty, he had eagerly anticipatedtasting her innocence on their first night as lovers. Now he would make her pay dearly for giving her passion to another man.
“I want the girl,” he said, his words forced out between clenched teeth. “I do not care if you fail to understand why.”
Ben shrugged. “‘Tis your coin.”
“Exactly. Now, shall we go so you can earn it?”
Thomas swore almost constantly as they saddled their horses and set out for the ambush. The four men he had hired were utter idiots. He was astounded that they had not been killed or captured already, and he was half afraid that in their utter incompetence they would allow MacGregor and Clover to slip through their fingers once again. He had no doubt that, somehow, Big Jim and his friends would find a way to foil his perfect plan.
As they rode to the spot where they would lay the trap for Ballard, Thomas imagined what he would do to Clover. She had made a complete fool of him. When she became his whore she would compensate him for that humiliation. He would regain his reputation in Langleyville as a man to be wary of. Everyone would see that he had gotten her back, and they would know that Ballard MacGregor had paid dearly for thwarting Thomas’s will.
In private he would make Clover suffer for the times she had allowed MacGregor to touch her. By giving herself to MacGregor, she had forfeited all rights to being handsomely paid for her favors in gifts and comforts. If she was willing to give herself to some illiterate backwoodsman for nothing, then she could service him for nothing as well. And he would no longer ensure that she was taken care of whenhe tired of her. He would make Clover regret her rejection of him every day that he kept her with him, and for however long she survived after he cast her out on the street.
When they arrived at the place of ambush, Thomas dismounted. He sagged heavily against his horse for a moment. His headache was much worse. There was no respite from the pounding pain. Ballard MacGregor would pay for crippling him and taking what was rightfully his, he swore as he staggered into the wood and hunkered down next to Big Jim to await their prey.
Sometime later, a nudge in his side made him curse and he realized he had dozed off. He caught the rumble of a wagon coming down the road. Any moment now he would have his revenge.
The wagon came into view. Thomas easily recognized Clover’s fair hair. But as his men raised their muskets to fire he realized with a pang that he had forgotten to remind them again that he wanted Clover alive.
