The fire had engulfed Grier’s shack quickly.Allison’s eyebrows had seemed uneven. She could have been injuredin the fire. If she was, the midwife would likely have tended toher. He’d check with Mrs. Brown. The woman wouldn’t be hard torattle.
* * * *
Coswell’s fist collided with the cabin doorand kept pounding. The house appeared hastily built but looks weredeceiving. He hadn’t punched the pine door. The rapping stung hisknuckles and fanned his anger. When the door finally opened he wasready to lash out.
“Heaven sakes, what’s going on?” Mrs. Brownsaid. Her eyes widened to the size of silver dollars.
Coswell put his hand on her chest, forciblybacked her up and came through the door.
“Who are you?” Mrs. Brown said in abreathless voice. “What do you want?”
He let her go and snarled. “You help me and Iwon’t hurt you. You don’t help me and…”
Mrs. Brown turned her head as if his breathsmelled like garlic, her chin trembling. “Yes, sir.”
“Now I know you’re a smart woman. Got allthat knowledge of all those herbs in your head. I want you to thinkreal hard and tell me if you treated a girl by the name of Allisontwo months ago.”
She chewed on her lip. Indecision clouded hereyes.
Coswell tilted his head and waited.
“I-I don’t rightly recall, sir.”
Coswell grunted. He had given her more creditthan that. In two quick strides, he approached her from behind,before she had time to react. Drawing the knife from his coatpocket, he pressed it against Mrs. Brown’s throat. “Now. I’m goingto give you a second chance.”
She swallowed hard. He felt her heart madlytrying to escape her chest. The side of the blade gleamed againsther dark skin. “I can slit your throat,” he growled low in her ear.“And no one will care.”
She wheezed as if he was cutting off herwindpipe. Tears sprang to her eyes.
“Did you treat Allison?”
“Yes, sir. She breathed in a lot ofsmoke.”
“Serves her right for setting the damnfire.”
Mrs. Brown did not respond.
“Do you know where she is?”
“No, sir. I saw her last a week ago. Sheworks on a steamboat.”
“She used to work on a steamboat. NowI need to find her.”
“I haven’t seen her since.”
“Think woman, think. If you’re not any use tome, I might just slit your throat for the fun of it.”
Mrs. Brown drew raspy breaths. The tearspooled in her eyes started to spill over and drench her lashes.“Please, sir, I—”
“Information,” he said, cutting her off. Hewas immune to begging and tears. Petty female tricks. If she didn’tcooperate he wouldn’t show her any mercy. “Information that’s all Iwant.”
“She is probably with George.”
His nostrils flared. He felt like a dogchasing his tail. “And where is this George?”
Mrs. Brown swallowed hard again. “Hisbrother, Frederick, owns a farm west of town. I’m not sure wherebut if you ask around you’ll find it.”
Coswell lowered the knife and put it back inhis coat pocket. “See, that wasn’t that hard, was it?”
Mrs. Brown put a hand on her throat where theknife had rested.
She had nothing to complain about, he hadn’tdrawn a drop of blood.
Slowly his anger ebbed, replaced byexcitement. That was the tip he needed. His heart skipped severalbeats. Just for show, he stormed out of the house, slamming thedoor behind him. He grinned. The old lady came through afterall.
Now what should he do? Energy fading, aheaviness settled like a mantle upon his shoulders. He fought toswallow a yawn. The journey back to St. Louis had been tiring.
Dare he stop to rest? Yes, he was close. Shecouldn’t go far in only a few hours. He’d get a hotel for the nightand find the farm in the morning.
Allisonworking on a farm? He snorted. He pictured her sitting on a stoolto milk a cow, and a laugh bubbled up his throat. She was good atmilking of a different sort. He doubted the cow would appreciatethe touch of her delicate fingers.
But he would. Yes, sir.
Chapter 18
ALLISON DRESSED AND sat in the wooden chair,watching George sleep on the pallet. The blanket only covered thelower half of his body, giving her a good view of his darkplanes. His full lips still heldthe hint of a smile. Was he dreaming about her?
The thought made her body hum. The more timeshe spent with him the harder he was to resist. Her throatconstricted and she fought back tears. Briefly she imagined living with him, and the two of themgrowing old together.
The image was pleasant but disorienting. Theharder she thought on it the thicker the haze grew in her mind. Sheclosed her eyes for a second and then opened them. Unfortunately,it did not bring any clarity to her life. Her middle squeezed,forcing out all her air. A dull ache spread across her chest.Depending on a man terrified her.
The aroma of their lovemaking still lingeredin the loft, reminding her of their closeness. He’d claimed morethan her body; he’d claimed herheart.
Last night had proved how perfect George wasfor her husband. He didn’t want children. What were the odds ofthat? He was gentle and patient and understanding. She needed a manwith those qualities after what she had been through. Originallyshe didn’t think any man would want her, but maybe Georgewould.
She felt safe pressed against him all night,but now rays of sunshine shonethrough the tiny loft window. This was a new day. Last night hadbeen a fantasy come true. She’d had sex with a man and enjoyed theexperience; saw the love in his eyes.
Unfortunately, fate wouldn’t allow her suchhappiness. Coswell was a smart man, resourceful, and wealthy. He’dtrack her. She had to continue running. If she settled down withGeorge, she’d likely get them both killed. And she didn’t want toput Frederick, Emma, and the children in jeopardy either.
She tiptoed down the ladder. Feet hitting thebarn floor, she paused and looked up to the loft. “I’m sorry,George, I have to go,” she murmured.
George soft snores answered her goodbye.Pieces of hay crunched under her feet. She paused in front of themare’s stall. The buckskin had a bulging belly. She eyed Allison,pride burning in her eyes.
Allison put a hand on her
