“But how much protection can a woman and her son provide against the men that Merry described?” That was Drake’s greatest fear, that the cruel demons had visited unspeakable acts upon her. If they had, he would never forgive himself. “Two hours,” he told the magistrate. “The horses have two hours to rest. I cannot bear to wait a moment longer than that to resume our search.”
“Understood.”
It was obvious Mr. Osbourne disagreed, but Drake didn’t care. He had to get to Felicity. He would not rest until he saw her safely returned to her family. No hope remained within him that she would return to him. He knew that was not a possibility. Not after the pain, terror, and who knew what else he had caused her. No, she would never be his wife, and he didn’t blame her. At present, he couldn’t even stand himself.
Chapter Sixteen
With a toothlessbut no-less-heartwarming smile, Mrs. Bean pressed the gold locket back into Felicity’s hand. “Them Hogans be good people. They felt your word be good enough. They refused to take it.”
Swallowing hard at the sudden knot of emotions caught in her throat, Felicity clutched it to her chest. “I will see that they are paid for their kindness. You have my word.”
“I know, gal.” Mrs. Bean gently patted her arm. “I told them you be a kindhearted soul.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Bean.” Felicity turned and eyed the mule harnessed to the old farm wagon. It was the loveliest sight she had ever seen. “Do we have everything? Where is Edmund?”
“Me and my Edmund don’t lay claim to too much, and he done put it in the back of the wagon. We need to be leaving now.” The matron frowned as she looked all around the yard. “I told him to make haste crating up them chickens. Old Ferdinand must be giving him trouble.” She shook her cane and hobbled across the yard. “We daren’t be dilly-dallying, Edmund!” she said. “If’n that old rooster don’t want to come, leave him.”
A loud squawk and a harried thumping of flapping wings could be heard off in the distance. Either Edmund had caught the rooster and stuffed him into the last crate, or the bird had met his demise. While Felicity was usually generous in her feelings toward any animal, shedidn’t care what had happened to the irritating bird as long as it meant they would be leaving soon. Deep in her heart, she feared that Mort and his brothers would return when they least expected it.
Edmund came out from behind the shed with an indignant Ferdinand still fussing and flapping his wings as much as he could inside the wooden crate.
“You be lucky, Ferdinand,” Mrs. Bean told the bird. “My Edmund was ready to wring your neck for you.”
Edmund grunted and set the crate in the back of the wagon.
Mrs. Bean turned to Felicity. “’Tis best you ride back there on your pallet, gal. If’n me and my Edmund see any folks along the way, you be sure and get down real low when we say so.”
“I will happily do so.” With Edmund’s assistance, Felicity climbed up into the wagon. She appreciated being able to move freely once more with the removal of her shackles. Once seated, she wrapped a dingy, worn scarf around her head and tied it under her chin. No one passing them during their travels would think her anything other than part of the Bean family.
As the wagon bounced into motion, she glanced back at the little cottage that seemed almost sad to see them go. It wouldn’t take long for the grass and weeds to reclaim it and hide it forever.
Mrs. Bean turned in her seat and called back over the din of the wheels against the packed dirt of the roadway, “My Edmund thinks we be needing to go through Grange first. Just in case some of your people have come to fetch you.”
Felicity wasn’t too sure about that idea. “What if Mort and his men are in town? Will that not risk our discovery?”
The matron squinted against the brightness of the day, then leaned close to her son and appeared to ask. Edmund shook his head and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, apparently settling in for the journey.
“’Twill be all right, gal,” Mrs. Bean told her.
I hope so.Hugging her knees with one arm and hanging on to the wagon with the other, Felicity watched the Bean homeplace slowly disappear. She wished they could travel faster, but would leave that to Edmund, since she was no expert when it came to mules.
They had traveled long enough to make Felicity wish that the pallet under her bum were a little thicker when Mrs. Bean turned and motioned for her to stay down.
Felicity curled into a ball, wondering if she should have put her pallet on the other side of the chicken crates and covered herself with a ratty old blanket. It was too late now, though. All she could do was hope whoever passed them either didn’t notice her at all or merely thought her ill in the back of the wagon. Unfortunately, all she could hear was the creaking rattle and thump of the decrepit farm vehicle as it maintained its slow, steady pace.
But then it slowed even more and came to a full stop.
Felicity cowered deeper into the scarf she had wrapped around her head, closing her eyes and doing her best to sink into the pallet and chicken crates. Then her heart leapt. She knew that voice.
Popping upright, she tore the scarf away. “Chance!”
“Felli!” Her brother leapt from his horse, charged to the wagon, and snatched her down into his arms. “Gads alive, Felli.” He crushed her to his chest. “I feared I would never see you again.”
She clung to him, sobbing, “I feared the same, my sweet brother. I feared the same.” When she opened her eyes and saw Drake, she froze and drew back. Her heart fell to her stomach with a sickly gurgle. “What ishedoing here?”
“He came to warn us about Rum and Catherty threatening to do you harm.” Chance steadied her. “He was there when Merry returned to tell us you had been taken.”
“Merry.” The fickle, lying Drake could wait. Felicity caught hold of her brother. “Is she all right? Did they harm her?”
