Chapter Eight

Esther's chest tightened as the horses galloped in a frenzy, their powerful hooves pounding against the soft earth. She clung to Whit as they raced through the moonlit darkness. Holding onto him for dear life, she tightened her grip, afraid she might slip and fall if she didn't.

Whit's arms wrapped tightly around her, pulling her close as they rode on horseback through the dark, eerie forest. The horse's saddle was uncomfortable, but she didn't dare complain, as it meant she was still alive. Despite the warmth of Whit's embrace, her mind raced with images of the horrific scenes she had witnessed. Tears streamed down her face as she buried it in his shoulder and clutched onto his coat for dear life.

The moon had disappeared when the horses finally slowed down. They were riding under a thick canopy of trees next to a river. There weren't many of the gang left as they traveled in a small pack toward their new destination. She didn't want to think about the bodies peppered about the last encampment. Brodie waited until they were far enough away before lighting lanterns that would light their way under the dark cover of trees.

"Whit," Esther whispered, her voice barely carrying over the loud, gushing water. "Where are we going?"

"Looks like we're headed back toward Flat River."

She nodded, not daring to speak further for fear of saying something she might regret. Instead, she focused on the rhythmic sway of the horse beneath them and his arms around her, letting them lull her into a fragile calm.

When they finally arrived at their destination, Whit dismounted and helped Esther down from the horse. They found themselves in a secluded clearing, surrounded by towering trees which seemed to form a protective barrier around them.

"There will be no fire tonight," Brodie said. "Get these horses secured. Matty and Digger, you up for first watch?"

"Sure thing, boss." Matty took Brodie's mount and led it to the far side of the clearing.

"Everyone else, get some sleep." Brodie clapped his hands for attention. "We'll regroup at daylight."

Whit leaned forward toward Esther. "I will water the horse, and then I'll be along to help you set up the tent."

She grabbed the few supplies he tossed from the back of the horse. "I don't want your help, Whitney Moore. You need to find somewhere else to sleep."

"Good. You can set it up alone. As my wife, you'll sleep next to me."

"If you think after killing my family and what I just experienced, I'll let you anywhere near me, you need to think again." She turned on her heel and looked for the best place to set up her small tent for the night.

He approached her with such speed she gasped when he suddenly grabbed her arm and twirled her around to face him. She took a deep breath to steady herself as Whit grasped her arm. His face glowed from the light from the lanterns. His piercing blue eyes bore into her, filled with intensity and something deeper she couldn't quite name.

"You need to know your place, Esther Moore ." He held out the reins of his horse. "Digger, water my horse. I need to have a word with my wife."

"She needs to gather firewood," Brodie grumbled.

"In the morning." Esther danced on her toes as Whit started leading them toward a secluded part of the clearing. "She's dealt with enough tonight."

"Whit." Her voice was low and husky.

"Esther." When he gruffly said her name, Esther felt a tingling sensation which traveled all the way to her toes. Despite the darkness, a small smile appeared on her face, subtly revealing her joy.

Without another word, they set up their small tent and once their temporary refuge was complete, Whit pulled back the entrance flap and gestured for Esther to enter. She patted out the rubber blanket as she crawled into the space, then reached behind her for the wool covering which would keep them warm while lying on the ground beneath.

Once the space was ready, she moved to the side and turned on her hip, facing the wall of the tent. Whit crawled into the makeshift bed beside her and closed the flap behind him.

"You need to get some rest," he whispered.

"I don't think I can sleep tonight. I didn't want you next to me because I had to be mad about everything you said this evening."

"I know." Whit replied as his lips brushed against the back of her head. "I'm afraid he might kill us."

"Brodie?"

As he nodded, the wool blanket rubbed against her cheek, its fibers scratching her skin.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close so she could feel the comforting beat of his heart against her back. His fingers curled between hers, securing her hand against her belly.

"I promise I won't let anything happen to you," Whit murmured.

The warmth of Whit's body beside her was a comforting presence, but sleep eluded her. Her mind raced with thoughts of their uncertain future, and she knew she could not keep silent any longer.

"Whit." She turned in Whit's arms to face him, her fingers reaching up to trace the familiar lines of his bearded jaw in the darkness. She took a shaky breath, gathering her courage before speaking softly.

"I'm afraid we won't make it out of this. Brodie and his men will..." Her voice broke as tears welled up, the images of violence she had witnessed still fresh in her mind.

Whit tightened his arms around her, one hand tangling in her long hair to guide her head to his chest. "Shh. Don't think about it anymore tonight. We'll figure a way out; I made a promise to you."

"I have to ask you something."

"What is it, darlin'?" he asked softly, cheek resting on her forehead.

"Did you mean what you said before you left this morning? Or was it just for show?"

"When I said I loved you?" She nodded her head against his chest. "I meant every word. I love you, Esther Billings."

Esther took a deep breath, praying for strength. "I love you, Whit," she admitted, her voice trembling. "We may not have much time left, and I couldn't bear the thought of leaving this world without telling you how I truly feel."

"We'll have whatever time God gives us."

Esther had just finished gathering firewood when Whit told her to get the water buckets. As they walked through the thick trees, memories flooded back to her from the time the gang kidnapped her.

The campsite was familiar. Although a lot had changed in just one week since they had been there. The surroundings looked as if it had been neglected for years; an old lantern with rusted metal, a broken chair, a pile of wooden buckets, and some cans of food scattered among the overgrown brush were all the remains from their previous visit.

"I'm going to get water, and Esther is going with me," Whit announced, his tone brooking no argument. Brodie eyed him suspiciously but gave a curt nod of approval.

Esther's hands trembled as she grabbed two wooden buckets from the stack left behind. They walked along the waterway, their feet sinking into the soft mud with each step. Whit's horse was tethered to some bushes ahead, and Esther couldn't help but notice it had no saddle on its back.

"Why isn't your horse saddled?"

Whit effortlessly swung onto the horse's back and reached for the buckets in Esther's hand. "Hand me those," he said, taking the buckets before hoisting her in front of him. "We're going for a ride."

"Won't they get suspicious?" Esther questioned, glancing over her shoulder.

"No need to worry," Whit reassured her. "I put a dead deer in the water earlier. We just need to ride far enough away so we can fill these buckets with no one seeing us."

Esther gripped the buckets as the horse lurched into motion. She had never ridden bareback before, and Whit's brawny arm around her waist was the only thing keeping her steady. Closing her eyes, she let out a content sigh as she nestled into his embrace, feeling the warmth of him against her back. She leaned back, resting her head against his chest, and breathed in his familiar scent.

"I wish we could stay like this and ride directly to town."

"We can't be too long, or they'll send someone after us." He nuzzled her ear with his nose. "I need you to pay attention to where we are going."

She opened her eyes. "All right. Where are we going?"

"The camp is back that way. What I want to show you is up this way."

Whit expertly guided the horse down the winding trail, pointing out familiar landmarks along the way. As they reached a low point in the creek, he turned to Esther and asked, "What did you see before we crossed?"

She scanned the surroundings, noting the trees, bushes, and glistening water.

"Bushes," she replied uncertainly.

"No," Whit said, turning the horse back to where they had entered the water. "Look around."

She saw nothing unusual. There was the typical landscape of rocks jutting from the dirt. "Rocks?"

"What about them?"

"That one there is black. The others are all brown." She furrowed her brow in confusion as Whit smiled proudly at her observation.

"Good girl." He gave her a quick kiss. "When you come down this path, you do not want to cross the creek until you see that black rock."

"Cross at the black rock. What am I looking for?" She squinted her eyes as they broke through the bushes into the bright morning.

"Look there," he whispered, pointing to a house surrounded by fields in the distance. Several large boys were tending to animals, their laughter echoed across the field.

"Who are they?" she asked. Their laughter was a soothing balm to her weary soul. She felt Whit's hand on her arm, drawing her attention back to him. His blue eyes held a serious glint.

"Esther, listen to me," he said, his voice low and urgent. "If anything should happen to me, you need to run to the farm as fast as you can. The woman who lives there can get word to the marshal and my family."

His words sparked anxiety within her, but she nodded solemnly. She would do whatever it took to keep them both safe.

"Why? Wouldn't you come with me?" she whispered, searching his gaze for reassurance. "Can't we go now?"

He shook his head, looking away before meeting her eyes again. "The Richards would tear every house apart looking for us. There's something else I need to tell you."

Her heart raced, fearing what might come next.

"I'm not who I've led you to believe. My name isn't Whitney Moore."

"What?" She felt sick to her belly. "You lied to me?"

If he lied about this, what else had he lied about? Had he been lying to her all along?

"Listen to me, sweetheart. My real name is Whitney Hartman."

"There's a Hartman family outside of town. Are you related to them?"

"Those are my brothers."

"Annamae is your sister?"

"Yes. She's the youngest of the Hartmans."

"If you're a Hartman, wouldn't the Richards gang know it?"

"Not exactly. My father was Randall Hartman, but Verna wasn't my biological mother. My actual mother's name was Dolores Moore, but she passed away when I was younger. That's when I went to live with my father, his wife and my half siblings. The Richards had already left town when I arrived at Flat River."

"So, you kept your name as Moore?"

"No. I eventually changed it to Hartman as I never had an actual family before, other than the ma who raised me until she died. Ma Hartman, my brothers and sisters, are my family now. I have a sister I have never met. The Richards gang took her when she was nineteen. She'd be in her thirties now. I need to find my missing sister, to get answers for the woman who took me in and gave me a home."

"Is that why you're helping me? Because you know the pain my family is going through."

"I've been trying to gather information about the Richards gang and why they returned to the area after so many years." He paused, worry etched on his handsome face. "It has taken me a year to earn their trust, and now I finally know what they are after. We will leave for the Chapman Ranch tonight. After we are gone, you need to make your escape. Promise me you'll leave."

"Whitney Hartman," she repeated softly, letting his name settle around her like a warm embrace. "I don't care who you are or where you come from. I love you, and I will stand by your side through this."

Relief washed over his rugged features. He reached out and gently caressed her cheek. "I never lied to you, Esther. Everything I've told you is the truth, including when I said I loved you. Esther, you are the most precious gift God could have given me," he murmured. "No matter what happens, I will always cherish you and keep you in my heart." With a click of his tongue, he turned the horse back to the creek and disappeared into the bushes. "Remember what I said about the farm? No matter what happens, promise me you'll go there."

"I promise," she vowed, her voice trembling.

The horse made double-time, heading back toward camp. When Whit thought they were close enough, he stopped so they could fill the buckets, and Esther could relieve herself behind some bushes.

"Rider's coming," Whit called to her as he filled the second bucket. Esther walked onto the trail to see Big Joe, one of Richards' cousins, riding toward them.

"You're a piece aways from camp." Big Joe said, stopping next to them. "Does Brodie know she's out with you?"

"It's my fault," Esther said. "Whit brought me to get water."

"You could get water up there." Big Joe hitched his thumb further up the trail.

Esther's eyes widened in fear as she saw Whit's hand twitch toward his holster. She reacted quickly, grasping his forearm with her fingers and holding on tightly as she tried to calm him. "It's my fault, Big Joe. I got scared when I saw the deer in the creek."

"Deer are in the creek all the time. Scare it off."

"It was dead," Whit deadpanned.

"Very dead." Esther shifted on her feet. "Bloated, too. I asked Whit to bring me further away where the carcass wouldn't get in the water." She batted her eyelashes at the burly cowboy. "You don't want dead deer in your coffee, do you?"

"The creek had become contaminated. Esther, hold that." Whit handed the bucket to Esther, causing it to slosh down the front of her skirt.

"Now, you need to get back. I'll ride with you to make sure you go straight back and make no more stops along the way."

She walked over to Joe and lifted the bucket to him. "You can take this one," she said with a smile. "I'm afraid the delay is my fault, too."

Big Joe looked at the bucket as if debating on taking it. "How so?"

Esther rubbed her belly and looked at Whit. "All of this excitement isn't good for my insides. Poor Whit has had to stop every few minutes."

"You got the backdoor trots?"

She thought she heard Whit snicker behind her. "It might be, but I think it is the little one that isn't cooperating." The noise stopped immediately.

Joe grabbed the bucket. "You in the family way? Does Ma know?"

Esther shook her head and leaned forward. "I've not even told my husband yet." She puffed out her cheeks. "Oh no," she cried as she released what little she had in her belly over Big Joe's leg.

Whit's teeth were clenched as he asked Esther, "What was going through your mind? How could you lie about being pregnant?"

She leaned back in his arms and rested her head on his shoulder. They were riding in front of Big Joe, leading the way back to camp. "I was thinking if they thought I was going to have a baby, they wouldn't do anything to hurt me or you," she hissed.

Whit tightened his grip on the reins. "If they think you are pregnant, the first thing they will do is off me," he mumbled. He couldn't decide whether to kiss her for making such a selfless decision or shake her for being so foolish. He understood her reasoning. If Ma believed Esther was expecting, she would do everything in her power to protect the potential grandchild. The only problem was Esther didn't know Ma Richards was her birth mother.

When they finally arrived back at camp, there was coffee already on the fire.

"We're back, Boss." Whit tried to sound contrite. "Sorry it took so long."

"Where did you go?" Brodie asked.

"Found them a little way upriver," Big Joe said, handing one of the younger men the buckets of water.

"Why are you carrying the buckets, Joe?" Brodie's eyes narrowed. "She should do the women's work. Digger had to go fetch water and make coffee because she wasn't here."

"Did you get it far enough away from the deer carcass in the creek?" Whit asked. "That water will give you dysentery."

"Deer carcass?" Brodie scratched his head.

"In the creek," Esther said, sliding from the horse. "It was dead."

"And bloated," Big Joe chimed in.

The men started spitting out the coffee in their mouths. Brodie walked over to the fire and picked up the coffeepot, dumping the contents on the ground. "Digger!"

"Yes, Boss?" The young man came running over.

"Go to the creek and wash this out. You need to go further down..." Brodie looked at Esther who pointed in the direction they came from. "The creek that way." He shoved the hot coffee pot against Digger's chest. "You make sure it is completely clean, and then you come back and make a fresh pot with this water here."

"I can make fresh coffee, Brodie," Esther offered.

"You're not feeling well, my love." Whit joined her on the ground, placing his hands on her shoulders. "You should go lie down."

"She sick?" Brodie asked.

"An upset belly," Esther said as she started making noises.

Brodie grimaced. "Get her out of here."

As Whit escorted Esther back to the tent, Brodie waved him back. "No, you stay here. Plans have changed," he announced, his eyes scanning the encampment with an air of command. "Ma's decided she wants to be here, so we're getting the boy tomorrow instead."

Esther exchanged a worried glance with Whit, her heart pounding as she considered the implications of this sudden change and what it could mean for them.