A Horsewoman for Harlan by Barbara Goss (novel books to read .TXT) 📗

type of man who would... hurt a little girl?”

The man shook his head.  “I never saw him hurt anyone, but he’ll do anything for money.”

Elise thought about going to the boarding house, but she felt unsure if that was wise.  If the man was dangerous, should she go to his home alone?  She walked to Sheriff Smith Conn’s office with the hope he’d accompany her.

When she reached his office, it was closed, but there was a note on the door.  It read that he was out with his posse.  Of course, they were looking for T.J.’s ranch.  Now, what should she do?

Pedro and Clay had also gone with Harlan and the sheriff.

She stood on the wooden walkway, not knowing what to do.  She had no weapon.

Elise turned and headed for the general store.

Once there, she walked the store's wooden floor looking for something she could use as a weapon. An umbrella?  No, not sharp enough.  The knives were household paring knives; they wouldn’t help either.  She felt defeated as there wasn’t a thing she could use.  She walked down the last aisle and spotted an ax.  Perfect.  She bought it.

After she’d paid for it, she wasn’t sure how to carry it without the whole town seeing her marching with it to the boarding house, so she went to the back of the store and picked out a black cape.

After tucking the ax handle under her belt at the back of her skirt, she put the cape over her shoulders.

Now, she was ready.

Harlan, Clay, Sheriff Conn, and his pose had searched every ranch and farm from Russell to Hunter’s Grove.  They were exhausted. When they were about to give up and halt the search, Clay spotted something far off the main road.

“That looks like a small ranch.”

Everyone shielded their eyes and squinted.  It was barely visible.

“Let’s check it out,” Harlan said.  Everyone followed.

When they'd reached the house, they noticed the land was barren of crops, and there wasn't even a single head of cattle.  As the sheriff dismounted, he said, “I hope the owner is all right.  There’s no sign saying the place is for sale, yet it looks empty.”

Harlan ran up and knocked on the door, which flew open.  He and the other men entered to find the house empty.  The furnishings were old and musty, reminiscent of how an elderly person might live.  Several worn pipes were sitting on the fireplace, and a nicely carved cane laid on the kitchen floor.

An empty valise sat in the corner of one of the bedrooms.  Harlan picked it up and saw initials on the handle:  T.J.A.  He couldn’t recall T.J.’s last name, but he knew it was his bag.  “This is the place,” he said to the others.

Clay looked at the valise and said, “They got away with Millie.”

Chapter Thirteen

Elise approached the run-down boarding house.  She knocked timidly on the front door, which was opened by a sweet-looking, full-bodied woman with a cheerful smile.

“Hello, dear.  I don’t have any rooms to rent right now.”

“I’m not looking for a room,” Elise explained. “I’m looking for one of your boarders.”

“Which one?”

“His name is Pete Swanson.”

“I know who you mean.  I call him the big guy.  He doesn’t have a room here, but he rents the small shack behind the house.  This house was once owned by a very wealthy family and the shack was where the maids slept.”

Elise nervously waited for her to stop chattering and show her where the shack was.  “Excuse me, I need to see Mr. Swanson—can you show me where the shack is?”

“Certainly, I will.”  Her chubby cheeks dimpled when she smiled.  Elise thought that under different circumstances, they might become friends.

“You can come right through the house to the back door.”  She held the door open wide for Elise to enter.

Elise followed the woman through several rooms until they reached the back door.  The woman opened it and pointed.  “There.”

She eyed the dilapidated shack before thanking the woman, walked slowly toward the door, and knocked so loudly the wood of the door rattled.  No one answered, but she heard a muffled voice inside.

“Millie?” she yelled.

The muffled voice grew louder.

Elise knew Millie was inside.  She rattled the doorknob, but the door was locked.  She turned and ran to the boarding house's back door and pounded on it.

“What’s the matter?” the woman came out to ask.

“Do you have a key for the shack?”

“Yes, but I couldn’t—”

Elise had never spoken to anyone harshly, but she had to get Millie, and she was anxious to see if she’d been harmed. In her most intimidating voice, she said, “Oh, yes you can.  A little girl has been kidnapped, and she’s being held in that shack.  You must open the door immediately.”

“Dear me.  All right, then.  Let me find the key,” the woman said.  She returned moments later with a large key.  She handed it to Elise, and followed closely behind her to the shack.

The key was rusty and so was the lock, but after several tries, the door flew open.  There, on the bed, tied to the post, was Millie, her eyes wide and teary.

Elise ran to her and pulled the kerchief from her mouth.

“Elise! He cut my braid.”

Elise nearly laughed as she struggled with the ropes to untie her. All that bothered Millie about the whole scenario was her hair?

The landlady stood in the doorway, her hands to her face.  “Can I help?”

“Yes,” Elise said,  “you can untie her feet.”

Finally, Millie was untied.

“Are you all right?” Elise asked, hugging her.

“He slapped me silly and cut my hair, but I’m all right.”

Elise looked upward and murmured, “Thank you, Lord,” before helping Millie to her feet.  “I’m taking you home, sweetheart.”