The slap to the side of her face stunned her and she dropped to her knees. The kick to her chest knocked her on her side. She felt herself being dragged upright and then slammed against the side of her cabin.

“Not so clever now, huh girly?”

He held her there with one hand flat against her chest and the other holding a knife to her throat. Annie forced her eyes open. It was the masked man who’d seen her when she was in the loft.

“Funny thing,” he said. “I shot a wild dog last week when I was hunting, and when I went to make sure he was done dead, I noticed a piece of cloth in his mouth just like the shirt that Jeremiah Thurman was wearing when he disappeared.”

She concentrated on the pain in her head and chest so as not to show any response to what he’d said. He sounded like Frederick Miles, the postmaster’s son, and there was no more worthless man for five counties in each direction. He was always trying to gain favor with the Thurmans, and this discovery would be a huge victory for him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He slammed her head into the cabin wall again. “I think you do. I think you know everything there is to know, except one little detail.”

“What is that?”

“The nigger girl, Gilly, we caught up with her two days ago. She ain’t doing so well.”

Annie felt real fear then, for herself and for Gilly, if she was even alive. She could smell his body odor and his rancid breath as he spoke to her, inches from her face, and realized that right now she was to face what she’d blindly said she could take for having courage. It was then she noticed four long marks down the side of his face. She might as well give as much as she could for as long as she could. Matt would be proud of her.

“Maybe Gilly gave you as good as she got, Frederick, seeing how there’s nail marks on your face above your bandana.”

“You’re coming with me,” he said and pressed his hand against her chest until she wasn’t able to draw breath. “Mr. Thurman has some questions for you.”

He lowered the knife and turned, grabbing her hair. She was thankful at that moment that she’d not put away the shovel she’d used to dig up her potatoes, that it was still leaning against the cabin near the door. She’d grasped it as he’d pushed her against the wall and hung on, waiting ’til the knife dropped from her throat. She brought it up with all the strength she had, screaming as she did. He blocked it with his raised arm but she still felt a satisfying ring when it connected with his forehead. She picked up her skirts and ran.

She stayed to the woods near the road to town and ran until she saw carts and wagons and others on foot. Surely, he wouldn’t assault her in public. Surely! People were staring at her, and she imagined she was a sight with her hair wild and not yet combed for the day and her blouse torn and muddy where Frederick had held her. She looked down and saw blood and realized it was dripping from a cut on her neck. How close she’d come!

Annie hurried and then wondered why she had. She was where Thurman ruled. She saw the sheriff’s office ahead and hurried there.

“Sheriff!” she said when she entered. “Help me!”

“Settle down now,” Sheriff Watterby said. “What are you screaming about?”

She took a deep breath. “A masked man held a knife to my throat at my cabin. You’ve got to arrest him. I’m sure it was Frederick Miles.”

“If he was masked, then how are you sure it was Miles?”

“I could . . . I could tell by his voice,” she said and watched as the sheriff sat down behind his desk and put up his feet.

“Could have been a drifter. Could have been one of your lovers, for that matter,” he said, eliciting a chuckle from his deputy slouched in a chair near the window.

“It was not a drifter. It was Frederick Miles,” she whispered.

“You want me to see if Mr. Thurman would like to hear about this, Sheriff?” the deputy asked and spit on the wooden floor. “I can just head over to his office and . . .”

But Annie didn’t hear any more of what he said. She was already out the door. What had she been thinking? Of course the sheriff would be on Thurman’s side. He was probably on his payroll! What a fool she’d been, thinking that she could face them all, face them down and put her friends at risk in the doing. She turned the corner hoping to reach an alley when Frederick Miles caught her arm. Abraham Thurman was behind him.

“Annie Campbell,” he said as he backhanded her, sending her to the dirt. She sat up, got her feet under her, and stared at him.

“Abraham Thurman!” she screamed, feeling her lips beginning to swell. “Tell your henchman to keep his hands off me!”

“Not likely,” Thurman said and nodded to Miles. “Take her out and let her sit a spell with her friend. That’ll soften her up.”

Thurman looked around then at the townsfolk as they stood silently and watched him. “Go on now. There’s nothing to see here that’s any of your business!”

Miles dragged her down the street, and Annie plucked at his fingers around her arm. “This is what we allow here in Bridgewater?” she shouted. “A woman is allowed to be dragged off in daylight? Are you all cowards?”

Before anyone could offer assistance to her, if anyone would have, Miles pulled her into an alley, and a burlap bag was put over her head. She was thrown over the back of a horse and lost all sense of time and direction and screamed until her throat was raw and she could shed no more tears.

“Matt,” she cried softly and thought of his face as she lost consciousness.

Matt and Adam ate in Harrisonburg at the same restaurant where he and Ben had eaten on their way to Paradise. He was impatient to get to Bridgewater, but they were less than an hour away and the sun had recently set. Adam had talked him into staying there and leaving for Bridgewater at first light.

Adam drew stares from the ladies dining there and on the street when they’d ridden into town, just as he’d done when they were young men. The soiled doves shouted to Matt from the second story windows of the saloon, but the well-dressed ones on the street with their parasols and hats and lace gloves eyed Adam as if he were a fancy dessert after a fine meal. Adam tipped his hat and acknowledged them all.

“How do you it?” Matt said to him when they were seated and had just finished ordering their food. “Even the serving girl is in love with you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said as he nodded to two fashionably dressed young women.

“I may as well be invisible. The women in fancy dresses are all staring at you.”

“Women like me,” he said and cut into his beefsteak. “I can’t help it.”

“Then why aren’t you married? You could have had your pick in Winchester.”

“The ladies are all nice. They smell good and bring me the best pieces of pie at the picnics. They smile up at me and dance with me, and I’ve stolen a kiss from a few of them.” Adam shrugged then. “But I was never interested in a second dance or piece of pie or kiss from any of them. If I’m going to live with them until I die, then I should want seconds or thirds or maybe even fourths.”

“Is that how we’ll tell if a woman is the right one like Mother was for Daddy?” he asked.

“I think maybe it will be,” Adam said. “Would you be satisfied with one more kiss from Annie? If you never saw her again, would it matter?”

Matt concentrated on his meal and tried not to think of the answers to his brother’s questions. But he couldn’t. Would he ever have enough of her kisses? He didn’t think he would. What if the sight of her tomorrow was the last time on this earth that he saw her? Good God! He fought the panic that shot through him.

After dinner, they wandered over to the saloon, where Adam made conversation with the men standing near him and Matt ordered a glass of water, eliciting a sharp look from the barkeep. Matt tossed a coin his way and listened to the conversation beside him.

“So, what do you fellows know about Bridgewater?” Adam asked and then turned to the barkeep. “Give my friends a round of whatever they’re drinking.”

“Small town,” one man said after thanking Adam for his drink. “Not much there.”

“Except the Thurmans, that is,” another said. “They run the town.”

“The Thurmans? And it’s not called Thurmantown?” Adam asked, eliciting laughter.

Matt watched his brother and knew for a fact what he’d always suspected. Adam was a leader and maybe born for politics. God knew the country could use some honest, cool heads while the country rebuilt itself.

“They’re a dangerous family, make no mistake,” an older man said, maybe someone of some prominence in Harrisonburg. Everyone within listening distance went quiet when he spoke. “I grew up there and know Abraham Thurman. There’s not a crueler human being on God’s earth and no one happier to inflict pain than him.”

“Is that right, sir?” Adam asked. “We’re heading there tomorrow.”

“My advice is stay out of their way, do your business, and move on, or be prepared to do battle. Thurman is casual about taking a life and wouldn’t blink to kill a pair of strangers.”

“What does the law say about that?” Matt asked.

The man barked a laugh. “There hasn’t been a lawman in Bridgewater that wasn’t owned by the Thurmans in some way, either through a payment of money or fear. My sister still lives there and sends me letters now and again. Nothing has changed in forty years, and maybe it’s gotten worse.”

Adam and Matt walked to the hotel after shaking hands with the men they spoke to and leaving the barman a generous tip.

“We’re going to be up against it, Matt,” Adam said finally.

“Stay here if you want,” Matt said. “This isn’t your fight, and I don’t think I could take one more bit of guilt piled on my head if you were to get hurt.”

“I’m coming with you. I don’t like bullies. And I’ve hankering to meet the woman that has my brother so twisted in knots he doesn’t know his head from his ass.” Adam chuckled.

“You wait. One of these days some woman’s going to make you feel like I do now—the thought of her in danger is making me want to kill something or somebody right now.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“I don’t plan on fighting fair tomorrow. I’ll do as little killing as possible but I won’t shy from it, either.”

“That’s the Gentry way, Matt. I’ll be right beside or behind you, depending on how foolish you’re being.”

Matt laughed, and it felt good. Tomorrow would be time enough for serious thoughts. For now, he was going to close his eyes and dream about his Annie.

* * *

Annie woke up, her cheek in cold dirt, in the dark. Her chest hurt, she had a large, tender lip, and the side of her head pounded where Miles had hit her, but for all her crying and all the possibilities of injury and humiliation, she was still in one piece. She slowly lifted her head from the dirt floor.

“Annie? Are you awake finally?”

“Gilly? Gilly? Where are you?”

“Let your eyes adjust. There’s a slant of light coming in through two of the stones. Are you all right?”

Slowly Annie made out the figure of her friend, a few feet away. She crawled to her and held her hands. Her eyes were adjusting, and she could see now that Gilly had a black eye and her bottom lip was fat.

“Oh, Gilly! What have they done to you?”

“I’m fine. They hit me a few times, I can see a bruise on the side of your face. They’ve hit you, too. They want to know about Jeremiah. I told them nothing, and they brought me here. I think they thought if they had us together we might talk.”

“Where have you been? It’s been weeks since anyone saw you.”

“I’ve been hiding out here in the woods waiting to hear about some traveling plans.”

“Where are we? Do you know? I admit I cried like a baby all the way here with a burlap sack on my head.”

“I think we’re in the old springhouse near the edge of Tom Cartwright’s fields. I can’t explore much as they’ve got my hands chained and I twisted my foot when I ran from them. Even if we did have a chance to escape, I couldn’t run, or even walk, I’m afraid.”

“How long have you been here? Have they been back since?”

“One time other than when they tossed you in here. They brought a pan with some garbage they said I was to eat and a bucket with some water. I didn’t eat any of it. My man, Isaiah, is looking for me. I’m not going to die here, and neither will you.”

“Your man?”

“We jumped the broom a month ago and were headed north to Philadelphia where he has people and there would be work for him and a place to stay until we were able to be on our own. We heard they were coming round for me, and so Isaiah and me stayed in the woods. We were walking on the north side of town, going to Harrisonburg. Isaiah heard there may have been other travelers there that we could go with, but he wasn’t certain there would be room for us in their wagons. But if nothing else we’d be away from Bridgewater and the Thurmans. That’s where they found us.”

“Did he get away?”

“I told him to run and he did at the last possible minute. There were three or four of them—they would have killed him right away. I told him to hide and then find me. He did and he will. He’ll find us both, Annie. He will find us or die trying.”

Annie sat down on the cold ground beside Gilly and held her hand between them, the chains rattling every time Gilly moved. How she envied her friend! Even knowing that they both might die, Gilly knew for sure there was someone out there for her. Someone who would give his life for her. She envisioned Matt and recognized finally that she loved him. That all her foolishness denying that he meant anything to her and that she would have forgotten him by spring planting was simply that. Foolish. He was the love of her life,, if there was such a thing and whether she lived or died in this springhouse, nothing would change that, she was certain. Annie suddenly and desperately wanted to live.

Adam and Matt were at the stables saddling their horses early the next morning. They rode the ten miles to the outskirts of Bridgewater in silence and in time for the sun to begin peeking through the trees on the hillsides. They skirted town and went directly to Annie’s cabin, riding along the banks of the North River.

Matt pulled up Chester and pointed to the ridge across the river, which was now meandering and no more than a few feet deep at its center.

“There. That’s where the trail was we came down that day. You can see how high the river was still. Look where the mud ends on that tree.”

Adam stopped, turned his mount, and stared. “I imagined what it looked like in my head, where it happened, but now seeing the reality, it makes it worse. You were incredibly lucky.”

Matt nodded. “We were. Right there is where Annie found us. Where Chester dragged us just out of the water, huh boy,” he said and stroked the horse’s neck. “You remember that day, don’t you?”

“Where’s her cabin?”

“I think we should tie the horses here and go in on foot. Maybe she’s in there making a pie or something, but we don’t know for certain.”

Adam looked at him after taking a look through the trees. “It doesn’t look that way, Matt. It looks deserted.”

“Let’s leave the horses anyway.”

Matt dismounted and tied Chester to a tree while Adam did the same with his horse. He checked his revolvers and pulled his rifle from its holster. Adam pushed his hat down tight on his head and followed him through the trees. They scooted around the back of the barn, and Matt noticed the pigs were not in their pen. It didn’t look like they’d been there for a few days. He heard an oinking behind him and turned. The sow was making her way toward him.

“Annie would never have left her pigs to forage in the woods. They were getting ready to be sold,” he said in a hoarse whisper.

Adam followed him to the house, and he stopped at the cabin door, debating whether to kick the door in or call out her name so she wouldn’t shoot them. Just then a breeze blew and the door drifted open. He pushed it the whole way with his rifle. She wasn’t there and hadn’t been there for at least a day. The hearth fire was out completely. Matt searched the little room and looked out the back gun slit to her garden. Adam came in the door.

“This shovel’s got blood on it.”

“Maybe she swung it at an attacker,” Matt said.

“There’s a bit of blood on the cabin wall near the door and some long strands of dark hair stuck in the wood.”

Matt went outside and looked where his brother pointed. “That’s Annie’s hair. Somebody slammed her head up against this board right here. I take back what I said yesterday. I’m going to kill somebody today.”

“Take a breath. We need to find out where she is first.”

Matt looked at Adam and knew he was right. This was not the time to let his emotions cloud good decisions. He wouldn’t get her back or find her if he was rash. He would be calculating, too—he’d have to be to save her.

“I want to talk to her neighbors, the Cartwrights. Come on. Let’s get the horses. Annie said they lived right beyond that hill.”

They rode the short distance and stopped just before coming into a fenced yard when a man pointed a rifle at them. “What do you want?”

“Tom Cartwright?”

“Who’s asking?”

“Matt Gentry. I’m looking for Annie.”

The man dropped his gun to his side and waved them close. A woman came on the porch and stood beside him. “I was over there night before last and waited ’til she barred the door. She ain’t there now?” he asked.

“I was getting ready to check on her this morning,” the woman said.

They all turned as a wagon came rumbling down the lane toward the yard. It was the butcher, Ezra Dinson, Matt saw. He pulled the horse up and jumped down from the wagon.

“I’m glad you’re back,” he said to Matt. “We’re going to need all the help we can muster. They took her yesterday. She’d gone to the sheriff, fool girl, and Frederick Miles came limping after her. She must have walloped him with something. He had a knot on the side of his head that was bleeding. Then Abraham showed up, and Miles hauled her off down the alley. I didn’t see it, but my wife’s mother was shopping and saw the whole thing. They have her!”

“Yesterday?” Cartwright asked. “It must have happened right after I left. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” He turned to his wife. “Get inside and get the children inside. Don’t answer the door if anyone knocks. Get the gun from above the fireplace and get it loaded and don’t be more than two steps away from it until I return.”

“Hadlon’s watching my shop. I couldn’t get away until I knew that he wasn’t. Royal dragged him out a bit ago on some thin pretense and will get a beating for it, I’m sure. They have Gilly, too. Abraham said to Annie that she’d be going with her friend. He must have been talking about Gilly.”

“At least they’re together. Come on,” Cartwright said. “Let’s go.”

Matt held up a hand. “Before we go off half-cocked in all directions, I propose a plan. I want you two to start searching the woods and the areas around town. Maybe you know a deserted cabin or lean-to that they’d take her to. Somewhere they could leave them that Annie and Gilly couldn’t get out of. This is my brother, Adam. No one knows him, and we’ll be able to get one of them privately and convince them to tell us where the women are held. Who is the weakest link in Thurman’s group?”

“The postmaster, Bertram Miles. It was his son, Frederick, who took her. Bertram’s a mean bastard, but he’s a sniveling coward, too,” Dinson said and looked at Cartwright.

“Him or Hadlon, the barber. But Miles would be the easiest to get to. There’s a back door on his building with a broken lock.”

Adam and Matt mounted their horses and Dinson climbed back in his wagon. He and Cartwright had already discussed what areas they would be searching and what they would do if they found something. Mrs. Cartwright kissed her husband on the cheek and told him to be careful, and it struck Matt that they meant the world to each other when Cartwright put his arm around her waist, pulled her close, and kissed her on the mouth. It was what love looked like, but he was familiar with that. It reminded him of Daddy kissing Mother in the same fashion, with desperation and adoration all balled up in one gesture.

Matt skirted the main road to Bridgewater, taking more time than he wanted, as there was no use showing their cards before they were ready. Adam trotted into town on the main street and headed for the post office.

“Hello! You’re the postmaster here in Bridgewater?” Adam asked once inside.

“That’s what the sign says, don’t it?” Miles said without looking up.

“I’ve had some things mailed here so they would arrive before I did. Can you check on them for me?”

“Yeah. Let me finish what I’m—”

“Let’s look right now,” Matt whispered in the man’s ear, a knife to his throat, as he inched him into the back room. Adam pulled the shades, locked the front door, and vaulted over the counter and followed them.

“Where is she?” Matt said after he pushed Miles into a rolling chair. “Tell me where she is and I won’t slit your throat. Your corpse wouldn’t be so nice for your wife to find, now would it?”

Miles was white-faced, with one hand around his neck where Matt’s knife had been. He sputtered his reply. “I’ll never tell you! Thurman would kill me!”

“I’m going to kill you if you don’t tell me,” Matt said calmly, his thumb running across the blade of his knife.

“Why do you care about that slut anyway? She’s nothing but a tramp. Everybody in town’s had a go at her and—”

Miles stopped talking when Adam’s fist connected with his mouth and several teeth flew onto the floor. He looked at Matt.

“You’ll be beating men up and killing them all day, and this may be my only chance to let them know you have a brother,” Adam said.

Matt had an incredible urge to laugh. To howl at the moon. His brother was by his side. He would be the victor. He looked at Miles holding his mouth, blood flowing over his fist.

“You’re going to die today if you don’t tell me,” Matt said to him. “I’ll slit your throat and then visit the barber, who may be more cooperative. But if you tell me where she is, you might have time to pack your bags and your wife and beat a path out of town before Thurman knows who betrayed him. Although I should slit your throat for what you did to Annie and her younger brother, but I’ll let it be your choice and let that young boy’s death weigh on you for the rest of your life.”

Miles looked down at the floor at the puddle of blood and at his tooth lying there. He garbled a response, and Matt smacked him hard in the head.

“Tell me where she is. You’re running out of time.”

Miles held the side of his head and eyed him with a mixture of fear and hatred. “The springhouse,” he said and spat out a piece of tooth. “The abandoned one near the mine.”

Matt leaned in close and put the tip of his knife on Miles’s cheek. “If you’re lying, I will hunt you down. I’ll be having a conversation with your son in any case. It’s not going to go well for him.”

Miles shook his head resignedly. “I ain’t lying. Get out of here so I can get my wife out of town. Go on. Go.”

Adam and Matt slipped out the back door, and Matt waited until Adam brought his horse around from the front of the post office.

“Where’s this mine and this springhouse?” Adam asked.

“I don’t have any idea. I wasn’t sure Miles would have told us the fastest direction there anyway.”

“Her friends are off in the woods looking for her. Who can you ask? Is there anyone else to trust?”

Matt looked between the buildings to the street and back down the length of the alley. “We’re going to try the hotel clerk.”

They walked directly into the large and busy hotel kitchen through a door that was propped open with milk jug.

“I need to speak to the man at the desk. Is he the owner?”

An older woman walked over to him and wiped her hands on an apron. “What do you want with him? Who are you?”

Matt studied the woman and hoped his instinct was true. “I’m the man that Annie Campbell rescued from the river this spring.”

“They took her,” the woman said, hands on her hips. “They took her right off the street. What’s it mean if a man can haul a woman off in the middle of town?”

“We’ve learned that Annie is being held at a springhouse near a mine. Do you know where that is?” Adam asked.

“I don’t, but my husband will. He’s the man at the desk.” She turned and spoke to a young woman, who hurried through swinging doors.

A few minutes later the desk clerk Matt had spoken to before came into the kitchen. He recognized Matt and walked right past him, through the door and into the alley.

“I don’t always know who might carry tales to Mr. Thurman. What do you want?”

Matt repeated his question and the clerk replied.