“Oh, my dear, Holly, you are too gullible. Did you actually believe I had a special root cellar?”
“I wasn’t certain, but I wanted to be polite. What do you want, Lydia?”
“That should be obvious. Joseph. He should be mine. He would be if you never showed up in town. I’ve planned to marry Joseph since I was twelve. Once you’re gone, he’ll turn to me for comfort, and I’ll accommodate him.” Her smile made Holly shudder.
“You want to kill me?”
Lydia laughed. “No, I’d never hurt you. I want you to write Joseph a letter. You’ll find paper and pen on the crate behind you. I’ll tell you what to say. In a few days, I’ll come back and let you out, and you can ride to the next town and take a train to wherever you’re from. There’s food down here and a jug of water. You won’t get hungry. Scream all you want, you’re all alone out here.”
“What about your hired hand?”
“I lied. I live here alone when I’m here. It gets dangerous out here in the winter, and I stay in my small house in town. Now sit and write exactly what I say.”
Holly nodded and sat on a small crate next to the larger one holding the paper and pen. She set the lantern next to the paper and picked up the pen.
Lydia smirked. “Ready?”
“Yes.”
Dear Joseph,
Thank you for your kindness. After careful consideration of my circumstances, I fear that if Mister Royalton decided to assure that I never return to Chicago, he could cause you injury or worse. I know you would try to protect me, but I would never forgive myself if you were hurt in any way. I’m leaving for a bigger city where I will be able to hide and feel more comfortable. Again, thank you. I wish you all the best finding someone to share your life.
Sincerely,
Holly
“That’s it? Don’t you want me to mention you?” Holly spat sarcastically.
“No, it’s exactly what I want. Joseph doesn’t need a fancy city girl. He needs me. Place the letter in the envelope and write Joseph’s name on it. I’ll make sure it’s left at the boarding house. I also want the key to your room.”
“Whatever for?”
Lydia lifted the gun higher, “Your clothes need to disappear, too.”
Holly followed Lydia’s direction and stood to hand her the letter. She felt her own gun shift in her pocket and for a moment thought she could try and shoot Lydia, but Lydia’s gun was trained on her, and she didn’t think she’d have a good chance.
Lydia snatched the letter and key from Holly then backed up the step and dropped the door. Holly heard the lock slip in place and knew Lydia was serious. She also knew she wasn’t going to sit and wait for Lydia to return and force her from town or worse. When she heard the front door slam, Holly knew she didn’t have a lot of time.
Lydia cried happy tears as she drove her wagon back toward town. Holly would be gone, and Joseph would be hers. Her plan would work, and years of an empty life would fill with a husband and children.
Holly sat and waited for what she thought was twenty minutes. She knew Lydia should be close to town and wouldn’t hear anything. If her plan worked, she’d be free soon. She held the lantern up to the door over her head and thought that one or two well-placed shots would break the lock. Her gun wasn’t as large as the ones men carry, but surely, it could shoot open a lock.
Holly stood several feet away from the door and fired. Wood splintered, and she heard the bullet hit metal. With a racing heart, she pushed on the door, but it was still locked. Holly stepped back and fired again. This time the door moved a bit, but the lock still held. She looked around the cellar and spotted a long wooden beam. She tried her best to hit the door with the beam, but it was hard doing it over her head. The door moved each time she hit it but didn’t open. Holly took a deep breath and fired once again. She closed her eyes as more wood splintered. The sound of the bullet hitting metal gave her hope, and she pushed on the door. It moved. She pushed it up, and soon she climbed out of the cellar and stood in the pantry. Lydia had locked that door, too, and Holly didn’t think twice about shooting the lock off the door. It sprung open, and Holly found herself back in the kitchen. She slid her warm coat on and placed her gun in the coat pocket.
When Holly opened the front door, she saw that the weather had taken a bad turn. The sky darkened, and the wind picked up swirling the already fallen snow around her in small whirls. She pulled her coat tighter around her shoulders and wished she had taken a warmer scarf.
As she stepped off the porch, she realized the wind had blown the snow over the wagon tracks that would lead her back to town. She took several steps and prayed she would be able to follow what she could see of the quickly disappearing tracks. Looking ahead she hoped she could see the town or some lights through the snow swirls, but she saw nothing but open snow-covered land and fat snowflakes falling around her.
“I can’t find my way back to town in this
