Annie woke up from a nightmare and wondered if she would die on the cold dirt floor, leaning up against stones thick with moss and damp. She wondered where Matt was at that very minute; she imagined that anyone contemplating their own death would be thinking about their loved ones. He was hers. She smiled, thinking of him teasing Ben and eating more than she thought any man could possibly eat at one sitting. She hoped his reunion with his family had gone well and that he’d allowed himself to grieve for his father. She was certain that if she met her maker that very moment Teddy would greet her. But she was not ready to meet him again quite yet.

“Gilly? Are you awake?”

“I am. I’m thinking about how we’ll get out of here if they bring us another plate of food and jug of water.”

Annie reached down and pulled the thin blade out of her boot. “I’ve got a knife, Gilly. Let me see those chains on your hands.”

“You’ve got a knife?” Gilly inched over until her manacle was in the thin stream of light coming through the loose stones. “Can you get it off me?”

“I might be able to pick the lock. The blade’s very thin. I had it hidden in my boot. I’ve never picked a lock before, but it’s better than sitting here thinking about what will happen when they come for us.”

“Do your best, Annie.”

“I’m not making much headway,” she said a few minutes later, breaking the silence.

“You’ll be able to do it, or you won’t, but if you can’t, I think we should have a plan for when they come to get us.”

“Yes.” Annie looked up at her friend. “If there’s a chance to get away, take it. I’ll try and keep them from going after you.”

“No. I’m not leaving you with these animals. You saved my life once. That’s enough.”

Annie held Gilly’s hands. “You must go if you have the chance. I mean it. You must promise. You have Isaiah and your mother. I don’t have anyone anymore.” She couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down her face. “You must promise me, Gilly.”

“The man from the river?” Gilly asked. “He was not the one?”

“He’s from a wealthy family and has been away for years because of the war. He has demons because of it. I would never fit into his family. And anyway, why would I leave my farm? I have everything I need there. My parents and Teddy are buried there. I’m happy there.”

She could see Gilly’s face in the slant of light. Her friend was looking at her with pity.

Gilly shook her head. “Don’t lie to me when we may lose our lives,” she said in a trembling voice. “We are destined to be with another person, with a man. I see how you look when you speak of him. How else will we have children and families to pass down our stories? Was he unkind?”

“No. Never. He’s gruff in some ways and angry with himself, but never unkind. I laid with him, Gilly.”

“Then you must get out of here alive and find him. Are you with child?”

“I don’t know . . . I’m not sure.” She resumed picking at the lock on Gilly’s wrists. “I want to be, though.”

“Even if he’s not here.”

“Yes. Even if he’s not here.”

“Do you love him?”

“I miss him here,” she said and tapped her fist to her chest. “It’s ridiculous, I know. I only knew him for a few months, and half of that he was too weak to stand straight, but I haven’t stopped thinking about him. I open my eyes in the morning and he’s in my thoughts. I say my prayers at night and he’s there, too. I don’t look at my fence and not think about him fixing every post. I can’t look at the gap in the trees by the river without thinking of his horse standing there and then leading me to him. Yes. I love him.”

“Then you must stay alive and tell him what you’ve just told me,” Gilly said and looked down at her hand. “I think you’ve got the lock open.”

“Let me try and get the other one off,” Annie said.

“No. Leave it. I may be able to surprise one of them when they come for us if they think I’m still in chains.”

“What will we do?”

“Get one of them inside with us somehow, and I’ll get this chain around his neck.”

“And I’ll stab him,” Annie said. “It’s the only way.”

Gilly nodded. “Let’s hope there’s only one of them.”

Matt and Adam followed the road out of town, back in the direction of Annie’s farm, and then found the trail the hotel owner had told them to look for.

“There’s eyes in these woods,” Matt said quietly to Adam.

“Don’t see anyone yet, but they’re here.”

Matt’s gun was out of his holster and aiming at a large tree on the right-hand side of the trail. “Who’s there?”

“Don’t shoot, suh.”

Matt recognized the voice. “What are you doing out here, Royal?”

“My sister’s boy, Isaiah, is out here looking for his bride,” the old man said as he stepped out from behind the tree.

“Who’s that?”

“Her name’s Gilly. She the one who done set your friend’s leg.”

“I know her. She’s with Annie, I think.”

“I’ve got to get back to the barber shop before Mr. Hadlon comes back from his meal, but I wanted to help Isaiah. He is terrified she is dead.”

“I’m going to get Annie and I’ll get Gilly, too. Where’s your nephew?”

“Don’t know, suh. Out here in the woods somewhere.”

“We were told they’re held in an old springhouse near a mine,” Adam said.

Royal turned and pointed. “Over that ridge there and another good piece. There’s an open field and a tree that got split from lightning in the spring. You’re close then.”

“Thank you,” Matt said. “Now get going. You don’t want to get in trouble with the barber.”

Royal turned and melted into the thick growth and underbrush. Adam and Matt kneed their mounts and headed up the hill. At the crest, a man wearing a white hood stood up and came out from behind a boulder.

“Turn around now, real slow,” the man said. “I’m a deputy here in Bridgewater.”

“Are you now?” Adam said and dismounted and walked a few steps forward.

“Stay where you are,” the deputy said.

Matt slid down Chester’s side and dropped the reins to the ground. “We’re just out for a ride, not looking for any trouble.”

“It’s a beautiful day, deputy,” Adam said and walked a few steps closer.

“Stop, I said!” the deputy shouted. “Don’t talk to me about some beautiful day! I know who you are,” he said and pointed his pistol at Matt. “The sheriff’s counting on me to keep the riffraff out of the woods, so just turn around and get back on your horses.”

Matt raised his arm slowly and pointed behind him. “Look. There comes the sheriff now.”

The deputy turned and Adam pounced, taking the man to the ground, his pistol clattering away.

“Do you have some rope?” Adam asked. “There’s plenty of trees with sturdy branches around.”

“You can’t hang a lawman!” the deputy shouted, his face in the dirt where Adam held him.

“You hung a twelve-year-old boy,” Matt said. “No lawman does that, now does he?”

The young man peered up, panicking. “I wasn’t there, mister. I wasn’t with them that day. You’ve got to believe me.”

“I don’t have to believe anything,” Matt said and handed his brother some rope. “Let’s just tie him to a tree until a varmint comes along and starts pecking at him. Are there mountain lions around these parts? Coyote?”

“I could get eaten alive!” the deputy said before Matt wrapped his hood around his mouth and knotted it tight.

Matt leaned closer while Adam pulled the deputy’s arms around the tree and tied his hands. “You think it’s funny to torment a woman? Or a young boy? What if somebody had torn the clothes off your mother and paraded her around? You think this is a game?”

Matt gut punched the deputy with all his might, the man expelling a breath of air and a moan even through the fabric of the hood, and then whispered in his ear, “Your friends are going to die today. You need to think about what your life is going to be like in this town after that happens.”

They mounted their horses and found the deputy’s horse tied to a tree branch a few feet away. Matt untied the horse and gave him a hard smack on the rump.

“They’re going to know we’re coming now,” Adam said and pushed his hat back on his head.

“I’ve got a bad feeling we’re running out of time, brother. We’re going to have to ride in guns blazing. Maybe the deputy’s horse will give us a diversion. Or maybe he’ll just trot home to his barn if he can find his way.”

“That deputy’s tied up pretty close to the main path, too. Somebody’s going to find him soon enough anyway,” Adam said. “Let’s get ourselves in the area that Royal told us about. I have a feeling that we’ll find all the trouble we can handle.”

“Do you hear something?” Gilly whispered.

Annie nodded. “Are we ready?”

Gilly lay back on her side on the springhouse floor, her arms over her head. Annie pushed away to the other side, her back blocking much of the light shining in the low-ceilinged room.

“We’re going to make it, Annie,” Gilly whispered. “You’ve got to think that way or you never will.”

“I’m scared, Gilly. I might have a child in me. I don’t want to die.”

“Shhh! Do you hear that shrill whistle?”

“That’s a bird. Maybe a mockingbird.”

“No, it’s not. That’s Isaiah. He’s here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Should you reply?”

“I don’t think so. I don’t want them to think that sound is anything other than a bird.”

“I hear them talking now,” Annie said and swallowed. “I can hear them. I hear Joshua Thurman and Frederick Miles. They’re coming.”

“Get ready.”

“I’m ready,” she said and pictured her brother hanging from a rope, swinging jerkily as he pulled at the noose around his neck. She wiped her sweaty hand and the knife handle on her filthy skirt, hoping for the best grip she could have for the killing she was about to do. “God have mercy on us, Gilly. You’ve been a good friend to me.”

“And you to me,” Gilly replied in a whisper as the lock on the springhouse door rattled.

“Hello ladies,” Joshua Thurman said from the open doorway and laughed at his joke. “I called them ladies, but we all know they’re nothing but a pair of whores. But I do hope you’ve taken this time to consider your futures.”

Annie covered her eyes from the bright light. “I think she’s dead.”

“What are you talking about?” Joshua said and bent over at the waist to peek inside. “Get in there, Frederick, and wake that nigger girl up. Just leave me the white girl. Her and I are going to have some fun together.”

Frederick Miles stooped low and came in the springhouse. Annie edged the door closed an inch or two, hoping Thurman wouldn’t be able to see inside. Miles crouched over Gilly and pulled her skirts to her waist.

“C’mon, girl. Spread them legs.” He grabbed her legs, then sat back on his haunches looking at her.

“Told you,” Annie said softly. “She’s dead, I think.”

Miles leaned forward, close to Gilly’s head, and in that instant Gilly’s arms were over his head, twisting him and pulling back on the chains between her hands, choking him. His legs kicked out and his arms flailed, trying to reach her. Annie lunged at him, knife in her hand. She stabbed at his stomach but he was wearing a leather vest, making it hard to know if she’d pierced it. She sliced at his arm and drew blood, but was afraid she’d hit Gilly if she went for his face or neck. Sweat was running down her back, and she was losing her grip on the knife. The door to the springhouse swung open.

“Get out of there or I’ll shoot you dead—I’d just as soon do that as look at you,” Abraham Thurman said, pointing a gun at Annie.

“I didn’t know what was happening, Daddy,” Joshua said from behind his father. “She’s got a knife!”

“Shut up!” Abraham said and turned back to the doorway. “Get out of there!”

She inched her way out on her hands and knees and stood slowly. Gilly came behind her. Annie helped her to her feet. Abraham grabbed Gilly by the throat with one hand and picked her up off the ground.

“Now, you’re going to tell me what happened to my boy, to my Jeremiah,” he said and faced Annie, while Gilly hung on to his arm and kicked out, trying to find purchase.

“Stop it!” Annie screamed. “Just stop it!”

A large stone hurtled between Abraham and Annie and hit Joshua in the temple. He fell to his knees and grabbed his head. There was soon blood pouring out of his wound. Abraham aimed his gun into the woods and dropped Gilly to the ground, and Annie knelt over her as she took in great gulps of air. A knife came flying through the trees and lodged in the door of the springhouse, barely missing Abraham’s head. Miles lurched from the springhouse door holding his bleeding arm, and bumped Abraham, knocking him to the dirt beside his son, who was still moaning and holding his head.

“Go,” Annie said to Gilly behind her. “Go!”

A young black man peeked out from behind a tree, and Annie raced to him, pulling and carrying Gilly as she went. There was a horse near him, fully saddled.

“Take her!” Annie shouted as she pushed Gilly the last five feet or so. “Take her! Go!”

Shots were ringing out all around her as Annie stumbled through the trees, running as fast as she could in the opposite direction hoping to split their numbers, jumping fallen tree trunks and skipping over gullies as she went. Suddenly she was in a wide-open field of tall grass, running full out, her breath coming in shallow gulps and her chest ready to burst. She could hear hoofbeats behind her. It occurred to her then that she wasn’t far from Tom and Madeline’s cabin. If she could just reach the tree line on the other side of the field in time, she thought, as a bullet whizzed by her head. Tears were streaming down her face as she realized she wouldn’t make it, wouldn’t live another day.

“Matt,” she cried to herself.

Adam and Matt heard the gunshots and hurried their horses through thick woods until they broke free onto a flat open field that ended in a line of trees more than a half mile away, from Matt’s estimation. He leaned close to Chester as the horse hit a full run at his urging with Adam close beside him. And then he saw her. It was Annie, by God. She was running hard and fast, her hair and skirts flying behind her. Thurman was on his horse and closing in on her. He was shooting at her.

“Annie!” he screamed, but she was too far away to hear. “Get her, Adam!”

Adam’s horse cut away smoothly on an angle to intercept Annie while Matt kept a straight course, aiming himself and Chester at Thurman. He tied his reins to the pommel, pulled both pistols from their holsters, and hugged Chester’s back with his knees, waiting until Thurman was closer but taking a few shots anyway trying to draw fire from Adam and Annie. He saw Adam from the corner of his eye, hanging sideways from his saddle, reaching down and scooping Annie off her feet.

Thurman was close enough now, and Matt let go a volley of gunfire as Thurman turned his weapons on him. Matt kept charging and closing the distance, dropping spent guns as he rode, hearing the whistle of close shots and pulling his rifle free from behind the saddle. One of his bullets had hit its target, Matt knew, when Thurman grabbed his shoulder. Matt lifted himself a few inches from the saddle, aimed, and fired his rifle. Thurman was a big, wide target, and he hit his mark, throwing the man from the saddle, his horse stumbling as he fell.

Matt slowed Chester and looked back over his shoulder. Adam had turned his horse toward him with Annie in his arms.

“Matt!” she screamed. “Help Gilly! They’re straight ahead near a springhouse.”

Matt turned his horse and rode hard, Adam on his heels. Matt slid out of his saddle as they approached the tree line and Chester skidded to a stop. Adam tossed him a loaded pistol and held Chester’s reins.

“Aren’t you going with him?” Annie asked Adam.

“There’s only two of them, right? He’ll be fine. You and I are going to wait right here.”

Matt crept through the woods, from tree to tree, on the path of broken branches and foot and hoofprints that Annie and Thurman most likely left on her escape. He saw the springhouse door, cleverly hidden near rocks, and inched his way closer. A young black man was tying two white men together. They were seated back to back on the ground, and Matt could see one was bleeding from the head. Gilly was leaning against the springhouse, holding a gun on the men being tied.

“Gilly,” he said. She swung her pistol his way.

“Who’s there?”

“Matt Gentry.”

She swung the gun back to the men on the ground. “Where is Annie, river man?”

“She’s safe. Thurman’s dead,” he said and whistled to his brother.

Annie came charging through the trees and ran to Gilly. The women hugged for several long minutes.

“He found a saddled horse wandering in the forest,” Gilly said to Annie. “We’ll be saying our good-byes now. We’re leaving for Philadelphia.”

“That’s probably for the best before there’s any type of investigation,” Matt said and stared at Annie. She turned to face him, her face chalk white and her hands trembling.

“Matt. You’re here.” Her head lolled and she collapsed, Gilly and Isaiah barely catching her before she hit the forest floor.

“She’s fainted,” Gilly said.

Matt scooped Annie up and turned to Gilly with a glance to the young black man. “I don’t know what happened but I’m thinking Royal’s nephew saved the two of you.”

“He hit the young Thurman in the head with a rock. Annie and I had strangled and stabbed the Miles boy. Unfortunately, we didn’t kill him. We’re even now, Annie and me. She saved my life a few years back, and my Isaiah saved hers today. Tell her I will always remember her.” Gilly looked Matt in the eye. “She may be carrying a child. You best get her to a doctor, but I’d go to someone other than Rawlings in town. He’s a butcher.”

Isaiah brought the deputy’s horse near Gilly and helped her get into the saddle. He climbed up behind her and kneed the horse in motion. They didn’t look back as they disappeared among the trees. They heard hollering behind them and saw Tom Cartwright and Ezra Dinson hurrying toward them, running and out of breath.

“Tell them what happened, Adam,” Matt said and handed Annie to him until he could climb in his saddle and hold her against him. “Catch up with me in town.”

Annie woke slowly, feeling as if every bone in her body was rattled out of its moorings. Her eyelids fluttered open, and she realized she was on horseback. She recognized Matt’s bare arms where he’d rolled up his cuffs, and the smell of him, and she knew she was on Chester as he plodded along through the cool of the trees.

“It’s you, Matt,” she said. “You came.”

“I did.”

“You saved my life,” she whispered and started to cry. “I couldn’t run anymore.”

He held her close and kissed the top of her head. “You’re safe, Annie. Thurman will never bother you or anyone else again.”

She sat up in his arms and turned as much as she could to face him. “Why are you here?”

“I can’t stop thinking about you, Annie.” She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “You’re even in my dreams. I was worried about you and knew there was more to this story than you’d told me. Then I up and left you to face it alone.”

She leaned back against his chest, solid and wide and warm. “He was raping Gilly, Jeremiah was, when I found them. I’d thought I’d heard cries out past my garden and went to see where they were coming from. I couldn’t shoot him, he was on top of her, and she’d been beaten badly. I walked up behind them and stabbed him in the back. Over and over again.”

She was crying then and shaking and feeling as if might vomit or faint again. He was holding her tight in his arms and shushing her and telling her she was safe and he was there. She just wanted to rest, the sudden ending to too many years of tension having taken its toll. She closed her eyes and breathed in his scent. He was here.