Chapter Thirty-Three
The six men and Kathleen stood quiet at the edge of the woods, their horses tied behind the trees. Dwayne stepped out. Kathleen grabbed his arm and hissed, “Listen to me! You need to get your head straight. What are you planning to do? Charge in there like Special Forces?” She put her hand on his chest. “Let Dylan finish.”
His stomach knotted and his ears rang. His mother was right. They had to give Dyl time to do a thorough recon of the cabin and surrounding woods with his binoculars before proceeding. He knew better, but he’d never been so worried and frantic in his life. This was worse than any firefight he’d ever been in. His baby, he had to find his baby, and bring her home.
Dylan spoke softly. “It’s quiet. The three of them are eating supper, looks like. Amber appears unhurt; she’s talking to Francine.”
Dwayne gasped with relief. “Thank God.”
Dylan and Donovan stood in front of him. Donovan said, “We’re going to run this operation. If you can’t follow orders then stay here with Mom. Are we clear?”
Tears of relief filled Dwayne’s eyes. He nodded and choked out the word, “Clear.”
“Good.” Dylan pointed. “Spread out to the right with Donovan, and Bart, Len, Arturo, and I will go to the left. Keep your eyes on me. Don’t make a move until you see my signal to advance on the cabin. Ready?” The men nodded. “Mom, you keep those horses ready. This shouldn’t take long.”
Kathleen nodded and stepped back as the men began to creep forward. “I’ll watch you with the binoculars.”
Dwayne joined Bart and Donovan moving to the right, several paces apart, they followed his little brother’s lead. Donovan glanced frequently in Dylan’s direction, watching for his hand signals. One of them stepped on a dry branch. It cracked loud underfoot. They stood dead still and waited.
Dwayne was close enough now to see through the dirty window. An old Coleman lantern hung from a hook over the table. Amber spooned food into her mouth and nodded at something Francine said. She was okay, his baby girl was okay.
Dylan made the signal to go in through the doors on both sides of the dilapidated log cabin. They’d enter simultaneously, assuming they weren’t barred or locked. Dyl raised his hand. They stopped while he whispered something to Len, and then Len ran, crouched, to Donovan.
Donovan nodded and Len returned to his position. He whispered to Dwayne and Bart, “Dylan is going to wait at the door on his side until we knock on this door, then he’ll enter as soon as we’re in.”
“Assuming they open it,” Dwayne said in a hoarse whisper.
They crept to the door and waited half a minute. Donovan nodded for Dwayne to knock. He raised his arm and pounded twice with his fist. Loud scrambling and excited voices emanated from inside. “Who’s there?” Luke yelled.
“Dwayne Dempsey. I’m here to get my daughter.”
Amber screamed, “It’s my Daddy.”
When the door didn’t open immediately, Donovan kicked it down at the same time Dylan and his men busted in from the other side.
Dwayne shouted, “Amber, get under the table,” just as Dylan grabbed Francine from behind and dragged her, arms flailing, foul language spewing from her mouth.
Donovan slammed Luke face down on the floor, his heavy-booted foot planted hard on his neck. “You’re on your way back to the slammer, moron. If I shoved your brain up a gnat’s ass it would rattle around like a BB in a boxcar.”
Dwayne barely heard him. His knee screaming with pain, he reached the rustic table and dragged Amber into his arms. “You’re fine, Daddy’s here.” He hugged her to his chest, heart threatening to explode through his ribs.
“I told them you’d save me, Daddy.” She clung to his neck. Her sweet little-girl scent a gift from heaven.
Tears slipped from his eyes as he rocked her side to side. “Did they hurt you?” he whispered.
“No, but they hurt Marla.” Her breath stuttered against his neck.
Marla! Oh, Jesus, the filthy accusations he’d thrown at her—the woman he loved. What had he done? He shifted Amber back and looked into her eyes. “What did they do to her?” His stomach clenched as an icy blast of guilt froze his chest.
Amber pointed at Luke. “That bad man hit her and dragged her in the dirt. He told her he was my rill dad. He’s mean.” She turned her head in Francine’s direction. “The lady who talks bad told him he better not hurt me, but I still don’t like her.”
“Nobody move!” Sheriff’s deputies rushed in both doors, Kathleen behind them. Dwayne saw her eyes sweep the room to make sure her sons were not hurt, then she went to Dwayne’s side and hugged Amber. “Are you okay, baby girl?”
“I’m okay. I wasn’t a’scared of them because I knew Daddy would come and get me.”
Dwayne suppressed a smile when Amber scowled furiously at Francine. “Go away! I don’t like you! I want Marla for my mother.” She pulled away from her father and stood, hands on her hips, chin thrust forward. “I told you my rill Daddy would come and get me away from you.”
Francine struggled in Dylan’s hard arm around her waist. She began to yell, and he slapped a big hand over her mouth. “Shut up, Francine, before you pound a few more nails in your coffin.” He released her when a deputy approached, handcuffs at the ready.
The sheriff approached Kathleen. “You folks go on home now. I’ll come to the ranch and get your statements tonight.” Dwayne didn’t miss
