Chapter Twenty-One
James slid off Thunder and walked up to a young boy with straw-colored hair that stood on end despite the heavy rain, placed a single coin in his hand and asked, “Have you seen a woman come through in the last hour, no later than two? She would be wearing a white dress with flowers on it.”
The boy considered the question and then shook his head. “No, My Lord, I haven't. Was a woman who came in about three hours ago, though. Course, she had her husband with her.” Then his face broke out into a huge grin. “He didn't steal your misses, did he?”
James chuckled. “No, he did not. I will be back within a day. If you see a woman riding alone on a horse named Molly, get her to stay as long as you can. If you do, I will triple the amount in your hand.”
The boy’s eyes almost covered his face as he looked down at the coin. He then stood straight up. “You can count on me, My Lord!”
James remounted Thunder with a nod. His frustration grew as did the heaviness of the rain. It became colder by the minute, and the thought of Sarah out there alone in this weather increased his worry threefold. Though he did not believe in omens, the ominous weather, the half-hidden moon on the horizon, and the lack of people about sent a shiver down his spine.
When he was younger, James had traveled this road often with his parents as they made their way to various parties and dinners. It seemed there was one every week and he would begrudgingly spend his time at each event sitting with his back straight and his hands in his lap as the women doted on how well-behaved he was. That was until he went to the home of the Foxworths. There he did not have to be stiff and silent. There he felt…free.
Thunder rumbled in the distance as the horse with the same name moved through the heavy rain. The road was collecting water and James feared it would soon become a small river. The next town with an inn was over two hours away and that was in good weather. With this downpour, the journey could take four or even five hours. Determined as she was, James knew Sarah would eventually stop and find shelter. But where?
If memory served him correctly, a few cottages sat to his right just off the road. Though he could not see them, he knew they were there. He gazed at the road. Unfortunately, any tracks Molly might have left would be long gone. Plus, too many people traveled this road to allow him to distinguish Molly’s tracks from those of any other horse even if he could see them.
James could barely make out a horse as it came toward him. He pulled on Thunder’s reins to slow him. Perhaps the rider had seen Sarah and she was close by. The chances of some random man having pertinent information was a long shot, but James was a gambling man after all.
James raised his hand in a friendly greeting as the horse approached. “Good evening…” he started to say, raising his voice to be heard over the torrent of rain coming down.
The horse trotted past him and he let out a string of curses. He had no doubt in his mind that the horse was Molly, and there was no Sarah, or any rider for that matter, mounted upon her. His heart raced as he turned Thunder around, moved up next to Molly, and grabbed the reins.
“Molly, where is she?” he asked, though he knew the horse could not answer. Groaning in frustration, his mind ran through lists of ideas as to why Molly was out wandering around on her own. The first idea was that perhaps Sarah wished to lead James astray; however, he quickly tossed that idea aside. Sarah loved Molly and would never part with her willingly for any reason, even if it meant setting a false trail for James.
The second possibility was that she had made camp and the horse either escaped from fear of the storm or was spooked by something else. Though that was reasonable, he doubted it as well. Molly was as calm as ever as the storm raged around her now, so the chances of her bolting earlier for that reason were slim.
The final option caused him to shiver, yet this time it was not from the cold. What if she had come into trouble somewhere along this road, and whatever that something was had made it impossible for Sarah to stay with Molly? Either she fell from the horse due to the increasing weather or she was forced from her horse by someone else.
Anger shot through him as he thought of what he would do to any man who were to lay a hand on her. Then his eyes fell on a scratch on the back part of the saddle. It was straight and precise, and quite deep. No branch could have caused such a cut. The only thing that came to mind that could have damaged the saddle to that degree and in that fashion was a very sharp, very heavy, blade.
There was no doubt in his mind now what had happened to Sarah. Her mother’s fears had come true; highwaymen had taken her. James cared not of how many there were nor what fate would befall him if he happened upon them. All that mattered now was Sarah's well-being.
Holding onto Molly's reins, he turned the horses around and headed into the night to find the woman he loved and to save her from whatever horrible circumstance she now faced.