{"id":3629,"date":"2011-08-09T10:32:12","date_gmt":"2011-08-09T14:32:12","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=3629"},"modified":"2026-07-29T13:21:55","modified_gmt":"2026-07-29T17:21:55","slug":"the-girl-with-the-red-hair","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=3629","title":{"rendered":"The Girl With The Red Hair (by Inca \/ aka Tye)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Summary: \u00a0R<\/span>obbed and left for dead at the roadside, Adam and Joe are forced to take shelter from a storm in an abandoned house.\u00a0 Injured himself, Adam struggles to keep his brother alive.\u00a0 But the house has a past, and it returns to haunt them…<\/p>\n

Written in response to an”Apple Pie” challenge.<\/em><\/p>\n

Rated: T \u00a0WC \u00a09500<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The Girl With The Red Hair<\/strong><\/p>\n

Last night I saw the girl again.\u00a0 She was alone in the street, staring at me through the bars of the cell window.<\/p>\n

I can get no sense out of Joe.\u00a0 His fever is still running too high.\u00a0 But before?\u00a0 Well, before, I now concede that he was<\/em> rational, even if I tried to persuade myself otherwise.\u00a0 But the way he was behaving, the things he was saying, they needed some other explanation.\u00a0 Only now am I beginning to understand.<\/p>\n

The sun is rising at last over this god-forsaken town in the middle of nowhere.\u00a0 There isn\u2019t even a doctor here.\u00a0 Not that we could pay a doctor if there was one. \u00a0The bandits who attacked us left us with nothing.\u00a0 All the money from the cattle sale \u2013 five thousand dollars – gone!\u00a0 Even that wasn\u2019t enough to satisfy them.\u00a0 They took our horses and our guns as well.\u00a0 I guess we were lucky to be left with our lives.<\/p>\n

Lucky?\u00a0 It didn\u2019t feel lucky when it happened.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

\u2018Joe, get a move on, will you?\u00a0 I want to make Stockton before the weather breaks. We\u2019re a day behind as it is.\u2019<\/p>\n

The words snapped out of my mouth more sharply than was strictly necessary.\u00a0 It wasn\u2019t Joe\u2019s fault, after all.\u00a0 It was a lame horse brought us into this tumbledown town in the middle of nowhere, necessitating an overnight stop in a bug-ridden hotel where the color of the sheets matched the road outside the window.\u00a0 It wasn\u2019t his fault we were here, but now he was busy peering down the dilapidated street when he should have been saddling his horse and preparing to ride out.\u00a0 Overhead, the sky was heavy and threatening, like my mood.<\/p>\n

Joe grinned at me.\u00a0 Last night\u2019s less than average accommodation had done nothing to mar my brother\u2019s rest.\u00a0 I swear that boy could fall asleep in the middle of a busy city street.\u00a0 But his unquenchable cheerfulness only irked me that morning.<\/p>\n

\u2018Did you see her, Adam?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Who?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018That girl. The one I said to you about yesterday evening.\u00a0 With the red hair.\u00a0 Sure is pretty!\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018How about you just concentrate on what you\u2019re supposed to be doing? \u00a0I\u2019d like to get away from here sometime today, if that\u2019s all right with you.\u2019<\/p>\n

He got the implied sarcasm and pulled a face at me.\u00a0 \u2018Got out of bed on the wrong side, did we, big brother?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018There was no right side to that bed.\u00a0 And if there was, the bugs got there first.\u2019<\/p>\n

Hoss should have been making this trip with me.\u00a0 He would have been a whole lot less trying than Joe.\u00a0 I\u2019m not an old man, but sometimes the company of my seventeen\u2013year-old brother makes me feel as if I am.\u00a0 When Hoss broke his wrist, Pa suggested I take Joe instead, and Joe was so eager I hadn\u2019t the heart to argue.\u00a0 I was beginning to regret that now.\u00a0 A prolonged and concentrated dose of Joe\u2019s natural ebullience was fraying my trail-worn nerves.\u00a0 That and the close eye I\u2019d had to keep on him whenever we entered a town. \u00a0It seemed – to Joe anyway – this trip was little more than an escape from Pa\u2019s watchful eye.\u00a0 Twice already I\u2019d had to wheel him out of trouble, rescuing him from an overheated poker game four nights back, and last night, prising him away from the ample assets of a well endowed and very determined saloon girl.\u00a0 Yet nothing seemed to dampen his spirits.<\/p>\n

Five or six miles out of that dreary town, Joe was whistling contentedly to himself, and I was looking anxiously at the heavy clouds overhead, when without warning, the world exploded.\u00a0 Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Joe lift slightly in his saddle before tumbling sideways, then pain, hot and hard, erupted in my left arm, and the ground hit me with a jarring thud.<\/p>\n

Dust mingled in my mouth with the sharp, metallic taste of blood.\u00a0 A man\u2019s voice barked terse commands and feet thudded past me. \u00a0Hitting the ground had knocked all the breath out of me and the hot pain in my arm made me suck in air in a deep gasp so that I choked on the dirt.\u00a0 I lifted my head.<\/p>\n

There were four men; two of them were tugging at the ties of our saddlebags.\u00a0 My fingers groped for my gun and a boot slammed hard into the side of my head.\u00a0 Bright colors burst behind my eyelids as I heard my own loud grunt of pain.\u00a0 Forcing my eyes open again, I saw Joe, to my left, roll over and go for his gun too.\u00a0 One of the men brought a rifle butt down on his head with a sickening crack and Joe crumpled again and lay still.<\/p>\n

The world was spinning lopsidedly.\u00a0 I pressed my face into the dirt in an attempt to steady my reeling senses.\u00a0 The men were laughing.<\/p>\n

\u2018Five thousand dollars!\u2019\u00a0 There was no mistaking the delight in the man\u2019s voice.\u00a0 I thought of Pa and of all the work that five thousand dollars represented, and I felt a surge of indignant anger rush through me.\u00a0 In the same instant I recognized the man who had hit Joe.\u00a0 He had been there last night, in the hotel bar. Damn that stinking little town!\u00a0 \u00a0I made one more attempt to rise, but the same boot slammed a second time into my head.\u00a0 The men\u2019s gleeful laughter receded into roaring darkness.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

Confusion and then pain.\u00a0 A pulsing like red hot iron in my left arm while my right ear pounded as if someone had stuffed it with gunpowder and set a match there.\u00a0 And a strange tapping sound.\u00a0 As my eyes found their focus, the dirt in front of my nose bounced upward, and something cold and wet smacked my cheek.<\/p>\n

Rain<\/p>\n

Groaning I lifted my head. No men.\u00a0 No horses.\u00a0 The ground dipped away from me.\u00a0 My fingers clawed instinctively at the dirt.\u00a0 Several more big raindrops plashed onto my head.<\/p>\n

Joe?\u00a0 Where was Joe?\u00a0 Cold panic gripped my middle. Forcing my knees underneath me, I winced as fire shot through my arm.\u00a0 Gingerly I prodded the sticky wetness a few inches above my left elbow.\u00a0 A large chunk of flesh was missing from my arm.\u00a0 Clutching at the wound, I staggered the few paces to Joe\u2019s prone body.<\/p>\n

He was lying where they\u2019d struck him down earlier, face in the dust. I fell on my knees beside him.<\/p>\n

\u2018Joe?\u2019\u00a0 My voice emerged in a dry croak.\u00a0 How long had we been lying here unconscious?<\/p>\n

He didn\u2019t move.\u00a0 His face was turned sideways on the ground.\u00a0 There was an ugly lump on his temple in a lurid shade of purple.\u00a0 The rest of his face was as colorless as chalk.\u00a0 Blood was soaking through his coat and darkening the dirt beneath his belly.\u00a0 Too much blood.\u00a0 Leaning my face down to his, I caught the soft warmth of his breath on my cheek and relief flooded through me.\u00a0 I tugged his shirt free of his belt.<\/p>\n

The rain fell harder.\u00a0 Big heavy drops that meant business.\u00a0 Each one left a dark smear where it hit the dry earth and the sun-baked rocks that lined the roadside.<\/p>\n

There was a hole right through Joe\u2019s side.\u00a0 The bullet had entered his back, just below his ribs.\u00a0 My probing fingers found the exit wound, slightly lower, at the front.\u00a0 Carefully I turned him over. He didn\u2019t stir or open his eyes.<\/p>\n

At least neither of us had a lump of lead embedded inside us.\u00a0 That was lucky, I told myself as I leaned back against a rock to steady my heaving brain.<\/p>\n

Sometimes luck manifests itself in the strangest ways.<\/p>\n

My head was thudding.\u00a0 I battled to think clearly.\u00a0 Our horses were gone; our guns were gone.\u00a0 All we had was what wore on our backs. First things first; I had to try and stop Joe\u2019s life leaking away into the ground.<\/p>\n

Wincing, I dragged off my coat and fumbled the buttons of my shirt undone with blood-smeared fingers.\u00a0 The raindrops smacked hard and cold against my back and shoulders as I peeled it off.\u00a0 Hastily, I shrugged my jacket back over me.<\/p>\n

I struggled to rip the fabric.\u00a0 My head was reeling wildly and my fingers felt thick and unresponsive.\u00a0 I tried to be gentle as I wrapped a makeshift dressing around Joe\u2019s middle, but my clumsiness made him whimper.\u00a0 His eyes opened and I saw the same confusion in his face that I had felt only minutes before.<\/p>\n

\u2018We were attacked,\u2019 I reminded him.\u00a0 Moving my jaw to speak caused bolts of pain to ricochet around my swirling brain.\u00a0 \u2018You were shot, Joe.\u00a0 So was I.\u00a0 They took our horses, and all the money.\u2019<\/p>\n

I made a poor job of tying off the bandage.\u00a0 Joe flinched and pushed my hand away.<\/p>\n

\u2018We have to get out of this rain,\u2019 I told him.\u00a0 There was blood all around him.\u00a0 I wondered whether he was going to be able even to walk.\u00a0 His lips were as pale as his face.\u00a0 But he was a strong kid; I told myself that.\u00a0 He wouldn\u2019t give in easily.\u00a0 I held out my good arm to help him rise.<\/p>\n

He leaned heavily against me as we walked, gasping with every step.\u00a0 The fresh scent of the rain was in my nostrils as it soaked into the dust and the rocks around us but all I could think was that we had at least five miles to cover on foot before we got back to that miserable excuse for a town.\u00a0 Five long miles.\u00a0 Joe\u2019s rasping breaths caught in his throat.\u00a0 \u00a0The burning wound in my arm screamed at me and waves of nausea threatened to drown me.\u00a0 And then, for no reason I could see, Joe was pulling back.\u00a0 It was the last thing I needed.\u00a0 I could barely support him as it was.<\/p>\n

\u2018Stop!\u2019 he panted.\u00a0 \u2018We\u2019re going the wrong way.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018We\u2019re going back the way we came.\u2019 I tried to tug him forwards.\u00a0 \u2018It\u2019s the nearest town.\u2019<\/p>\n

He resisted.\u00a0 \u2018No.\u00a0 We need to go that way.\u2019\u00a0 He pointed off to the right.<\/p>\n

\u2018The town\u2019s back that way!\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018There\u2019s a house.\u00a0 That way.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018A house!\u2019\u00a0 I stared at him, and then in the direction he was pointing.\u00a0 There was nothing but a scrubby incline and a wall of rain.\u00a0 \u2018What are you talking about?\u00a0 Where\u2019s a house.\u2019<\/p>\n

Dropping his arm, he groaned and sagged heavily against me.\u00a0 The thudding in my head was so ferocious, I couldn\u2019t hold him up and he folded on the wet ground.\u00a0 My insides twisted in a knot of dread.\u00a0 His eyes were still open, but he was deathly pale.\u00a0 So pale it frightened me to look at him.<\/p>\n

\u2018Sorry, Adam.\u00a0 I\u2019m kinda dizzy.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Yeah.\u2019\u00a0 I tried to keep my voice matter of fact.\u00a0 \u2018Me too.\u00a0 Come on, Joe.\u00a0 You can\u2019t stop here.\u00a0 We have to get out of this rain.\u2019<\/p>\n

He shook his head, wincing.\u00a0 \u2018Too far to town.\u00a0 Head for the house.\u2019<\/p>\n

Rain was running in rivulets out of my hair and down my face.\u00a0 Why hadn\u2019t I thought to retrieve our hats before we started walking?\u00a0 Thunder rumbled ominously, somewhere in the distance.<\/p>\n

\u2018I don\u2019t know what you\u2019re talking about, Joe!\u00a0 What house?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Over there. She told me.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Who told you?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018The girl. In town.\u2019<\/p>\n

Joe\u2019s eyes closed.\u00a0 The conversation had gone on long enough.\u00a0 I had no idea when he\u2019d managed to contrive a chat with a girl in town, but right there and then, with the blood from our wounds mingling with the rain, was not the time to be discussing details.<\/p>\n

\u2018Can you smell it, Adam?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Smell it?\u00a0 Smell what?\u2019 \u00a0I didn\u2019t mean to sound bad-tempered but the rain was trickling down inside my collar, cold and unpleasant, and my stomach was churning.\u00a0 I could smell nothing but wetness.<\/p>\n

\u2018Baking.\u00a0 Somebody\u2019s baking.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018On your feet!\u2019\u00a0 With my good arm I haul him up again.\u00a0 \u2018Come on.\u2019<\/p>\n

He resisted.\u00a0 My temper was fraying.\u00a0 \u2018Joe, just walk, dammit!\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Not that way!\u00a0 Over there.\u2019<\/p>\n

Boy, my brother can be stubborn!\u00a0 Even half dead on his feet, he wouldn\u2019t give in.\u00a0 And I didn’t have the strength left to argue with him.<\/p>\n

\u2018Smell it, Adam.\u00a0 It\u2019s pie!\u00a0 Apple pie!\u2019<\/p>\n

The ground was pitching beneath me like the deck of a storm-tossed boat.\u00a0 Seasickness washed over me in huge waves.\u00a0 What the hell did it matter which way we walked?\u00a0 We were as likely to find a clump of trees, or an overhang of rocks, or even a cave, walking in that direction as attempting the long five or six miles back into the town.\u00a0 And Joe wasn\u2019t likely to make it that far anyway. I didn\u2019t want to think about it, but it was true.\u00a0 All that blood and that angry swelling on his head.\u00a0 He was in a bad way.<\/p>\n

The rain was coming down with such force the dry earth beneath our feet couldn\u2019t swallow it fast enough.\u00a0 Water swirled like a shallow river around our boots.\u00a0 An insidious dampness was seeping through the wool of my coat.\u00a0 Every time I lifted my head, the rain drove into my face like tiny blades and my vision swam.\u00a0 Thunder rumbled nearer and then receded again, like an angry animal circling in the distance.\u00a0 Joe\u2019s breath still came in hard, rasping gasps.\u00a0 He was trembling in violent spasms.\u00a0 I thought of all that blood on the ground beneath him.\u00a0 He wouldn\u2019t be able to fight off the cold if we didn\u2019t find somewhere warm and dry soon.<\/p>\n

\u2018Joe, look!\u2019<\/p>\n

We were at the top of the incline.\u00a0 In front of us the ground sloped away in a gentle sweep, and where it leveled out, lower down, I could make out the angular shapes of buildings, clustered together beneath the grey shadow of the storm. I could hardly believe our luck.<\/p>\n

Joe was swaying in my arms, his hair stuck to his head, water dripping from his nose and chin, pale lips quivering with cold.<\/p>\n

\u2018Pie,\u2019 he muttered.\u00a0 \u2018Smell it, Adam.\u00a0 Apple pie!\u2019\u00a0 He tried to give me a weak grin but his gaze was unfocused and glassy.\u00a0 He staggered forward, as though the sight of the buildings had given him fresh momentum, but his legs buckled beneath him and he sprawled full length on the rain-soaked ground.<\/p>\n

\u2018Joe!\u2019\u00a0 I fumbled frantically, on my knees in the wet beside him. I didn\u2019t care about the rain and the cold any more.\u00a0 I was almost weeping with relief when I found a pulse.\u00a0 Too fast, but at least it was there.\u00a0 But he didn\u2019t wake up, even though I shouted his name over and over.<\/p>\n

\u2018Joe, come on kid!\u00a0 We\u2019re almost there.\u00a0 I can see the house!\u2019<\/p>\n

His lips and his eyelids looked grey.\u00a0 His face swam in and out of focus.\u00a0 \u2018Don\u2019t you dare die, Little Joe!\u2019 I told him as I struggled to control the panic.\u00a0 With an effort, I hauled him up, hoisting him clumsily over my shoulder, swearing out loud as my left arm shouted a protest.\u00a0 As I started down the hill towards the house, my head was reeling and I was staggering like a man who’d drunk too much whiskey.<\/p>\n

The yard was empty but the sheer volume of rain, as well as my spinning brain, distorted the buildings.\u00a0 I was just about on my knees but if I put Joe down, I knew I wouldn\u2019t have the strength to lift him again. \u00a0I stumbled up the steps to the porch and hammered desperately on the door.\u00a0 The planks beneath my feet might as well have been the planks of a rolling deck.\u00a0 No one answered.\u00a0 I knocked again and called out, \u2018Hello?\u00a0\u00a0 Anybody home?\u2019 as I slumped against the wall.<\/p>\n

Still no one came, and it was only then that I noted how dark and silent the place was.\u00a0 Apart from the rain drumming on the roofs and the packed dirt of the yard, there was no other sound or movement.\u00a0 A few moments more and I made a decision.\u00a0 Lifting the latch, I pushed open the door and called out into the gloom beyond.<\/p>\n

\u2018Hello the house!\u2019<\/p>\n

Empty silence greeted my shout, but for the insistent rhythm of the rain.\u00a0 An odor of mustiness stole out to greet me.\u00a0 I had no idea how long Joe and I had lain unconscious on that road, and the day was prematurely dark with the storm, but surely it could be no later than mid-afternoon. \u00a0Yet the house was already enveloped in dusk.<\/p>\n

Relief from the deluge was instantaneous.\u00a0 We were in a dim square room, furnished with a faded green sofa and battered armchair, small table, dresser and rugs.\u00a0 I called out again but the same emptiness answered my shout.\u00a0 I hesitated, uncertain what to do.\u00a0 I was about ready to drop; Joe was a limp deadweight over my shoulder.\u00a0 My stomach knotted to think he might already be dead.\u00a0 The rainwater puddling around my feet was tinted pink with our blood, yet the common courtesy drummed into me by Pa my whole life, held me back.\u00a0 Almost, it would have been ludicrous if I had had any strength left to laugh.<\/p>\n

Slowly my thick brain registered what my nose had already told me.\u00a0 This place was empty.\u00a0 There was dust everywhere.\u00a0 Cobwebs stretched from the rafters.\u00a0 No one to help us then.\u00a0 I swallowed back another swelling tide of nausea.\u00a0 For the first time I realized how hard I was shivering.<\/p>\n

Still, it was dry.\u00a0 I tried to think practically. I had to keep focused or Joe would die.\u00a0 Pushing my trembling legs to take a few more steps to the sofa, I lowered him as gently as I could onto the faded blue upholstery.\u00a0 But the seat was small; I couldn\u2019t lie him down properly.<\/p>\n

I had to hold on to the back of the chair for about a minute then to let my head and stomach settle enough to move again.\u00a0 The room pitched like a storm-tossed cabin as I straightened up and gazed blearily around me.\u00a0 I wanted nothing more than to lie down and close my eyes, but I couldn\u2019t let go of the fact that my brother was in a more desperate state than I was.\u00a0 He needed me.\u00a0 I had to get him warm and dry or he would die, for certain.<\/p>\n

My own coat was completely soaked through, cold and heavy around my shoulders.\u00a0 I shrugged it off and took a few deep breaths.<\/p>\n

There was a fireplace.\u00a0 The grate was full of grey ash, long dead, but there was wood stacked at the side, kindling, even matches.\u00a0 I groped and fumbled with cold, clumsy fingers, but I was rewarded with a small orange flame that licked obligingly around the dry wood.\u00a0 The sight of it filled me with such overwhelming relief, foolish tears sprang in my eyes.\u00a0 That\u2019s when I knew how far gone I truly was.<\/p>\n

Three doors opened off this room. \u00a0I opened one at random and I was in a bedroom.\u00a0 Vaguely I took in the rose-patterned curtains at the window, a shaving brush and razor on the washstand, a hairbrush in front of the mirror, but I didn\u2019t have the energy left to wonder at any of it.\u00a0 I concentrated simply on the large iron bedstead made up with a faded patchwork quilt.<\/p>\n

Dragging the bedclothes from the bed was almost more than I had strength for, and I had to pause again, leaning on the dresser to recover myself before bearing my prize back to the other room. \u00a0Outside, thunder vibrated menacingly, rattling the glass in the windows.<\/p>\n

I was startled to see Joe watching me out of sunken eyes, from his semi-recumbent position on the sofa.\u00a0 He looked like a pale ghost in the gloom, except that he was shivering violently.\u00a0 The flames were still jumping in the hearth; the kindling was well alight already.\u00a0 I added a couple of logs and spread the patchwork quilt on the floor in front of the fire.<\/p>\n

\u2018Joe,\u2019 I said, fighting to stay upright on my feet.\u00a0 \u2018We need to get out of these wet clothes.\u2019\u00a0 I was alarmed to see that his lips and fingernails were a deepening shade of blue.\u00a0 If I didn\u2019t get him warm and dry soon, he wouldn\u2019t make it through the night. His eyes struggled to focus on me when I spoke to him.\u00a0 They were open but they weren\u2019t seeing.\u00a0 I sat down beside him and pulled him towards me.\u00a0 For a moment I wasn\u2019t sure who was supporting who.<\/p>\n

\u2018Help me, kid,\u2019 I whispered.\u00a0 \u2018We have to get you out of these wet things.\u2019<\/p>\n

Reality was slipping. I didn\u2019t know how much longer I could hang on.\u00a0 Somehow I got him undressed and made a fresh dressing for his side from a strip of bed sheet.\u00a0 At least the bleeding had stopped.\u00a0 He didn\u2019t make a whimper, just shook with cold.\u00a0 His silence worried me almost as much as his corpse-like appearance.<\/p>\n

When I\u2019d got him securely bandaged, I wrapped a blanket around him.\u00a0 Then, with difficulty, I tied a rough strip of sheet around my own arm.\u00a0 The wound was an ugly mess, but I could no longer think clearly enough to do anything more with it.\u00a0 I got my shoulder under Joe\u2019s and heaved him to his feet and like two drunken men on a dance floor, we staggered the few steps to the quilt laid out in front of the fire. There I tried to settle him comfortably, but the blood was whooshing in my head, and my ears were full of a loud buzzing, as if the room had filled with angry hornets.\u00a0 I tucked Joe\u2019s blanket carefully around his shoulders before stripping off my remaining wet clothes.\u00a0 I pulled another blanket over both of us and pressed my body close to his in an effort to warm him, wrapping my injured arm around his still shivering torso.\u00a0 I could already feel the welcome heat radiating from the fire<\/p>\n

\u2018Soon get you warm,\u2019 I muttered.<\/p>\n

He said something in return but his words were slurred and my ears were full of angry hornets.\u00a0 It sounded to me like, \u2018That pie sure smells good,\u2019 but I couldn\u2019t be certain, so I let it ride.<\/p>\n

\u2018Yeah,\u2019 I said as I let my eyes finally close.\u00a0 \u2018You\u2019re right.\u00a0 It smells real good!\u2019<\/p>\n

********<\/p>\n

I can hear the sound of children\u2019s voices, raised in laughter, out in the yard.\u00a0 The rain has stopped and the sun slants in through the window.\u00a0 A girl crosses the room.\u00a0 She has red hair and a red dress and she wipes flour from her hands with a towel.\u00a0 I can smell the mouth watering scent of apple pie, fruity and spicy, fresh from the oven.\u00a0 <\/em><\/p>\n

The girl calls out two names.\u00a0 \u2018Daniel! Izzy!\u2019<\/em><\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

I awoke from my dream with a jump, certain that something had just trailed across my face.\u00a0 Shuddering, I sat up. The rain was still drumming on the roof, but there was another sound too, close by.\u00a0 A sound I recognized, but my brain was still foggy.\u00a0 It took me a moment to identify it.<\/p>\n

Mice.\u00a0 I could hear them scrabbling.\u00a0 Maybe it had been a mouse that ran over my face.\u00a0 The idea wasn\u2019t pleasant but it wasn\u2019t as disturbing as the other possibility that had crossed my waking mind.\u00a0 I pushed the thought away.<\/p>\n

Night enveloped the house.\u00a0 Only the red glow of the dying fire alleviated the clinging blackness.\u00a0 I looked down at Joe beside me.\u00a0 He was still asleep.\u00a0 But his face was so drained of blood, I was seized with a momentary panic.\u00a0 Bending over him swiftly, I checked he was still breathing.\u00a0 Either he was asleep or he was unconscious, but at any rate, he was alive.<\/p>\n

What time was it?\u00a0 I had no idea.\u00a0 I groaned as I moved.\u00a0 When I touched the right side of my face, I could feel the unmistakable swelling, bruised and tender, but at least the pounding in my head had subsided to a steady ache.\u00a0 Thunder growled menacingly in the distance.\u00a0 However long we\u2019d slept, the storm was still hovering.<\/p>\n

The fire was dying.\u00a0 I had to get up to put more wood in the embers.\u00a0 The unfamiliar darkness pressed in.\u00a0 All around me I could hear the small creaks and groans of a wooden house shifting.\u00a0 A flicker of lightning threw the room into brief white starkness and I noticed a lamp on the dresser.\u00a0 Roused back to life by the new logs, the fire spat and jumped, edging the shadows back several inches.<\/p>\n

I took up my pants.\u00a0 They were still damp but I decided they were wearable.\u00a0 My coat was still soaked though so I turned it over and left it by the hearth before crossing the room to the dresser.<\/p>\n

I couldn\u2019t see how much oil was left in the lamp but it didn\u2019t sound like much when I swilled it around.\u00a0 I lit the wick anyway, and adjusted it so that a pale circle of reassuring light expanded outwards, banishing the shadows to the farthest corners.\u00a0 Then I made my way to one of the two doors I hadn\u2019t yet investigated.<\/p>\n

Choosing the door closest to the one I\u2019d opened earlier, it was no surprise to discover a second bedroom beyond, furnished with two iron bedsteads.\u00a0 On the farthest bed lay a stuffed doll with one arm missing.\u00a0 Strewn untidily around a blue painted toy box beneath the blackened window was a set of carved wooden horses, while upturned beside the other bed was a pair of child\u2019s boots.\u00a0 A girl\u2019s straw bonnet dangled from a bedpost, faded pink ribbons trailing.\u00a0 In the corner of the room stood a crib.\u00a0 I could just see the knitted lace shawl crumpled inside.\u00a0 A heavy sense of desolation hung in the musty air, and even though the rain still pattered above me, the silence was oppressive.\u00a0 I backed out quickly.<\/p>\n

The third door was in the back wall of the main living room and opened into a square kitchen. An army of beetles scuttled for cover as I entered. There was an iron stove and beneath the window, a wide stone sink with a pump.\u00a0 Next to the sink was a door to the outside.\u00a0 A bowl of shriveled, moldy apples sat on a dresser.\u00a0 A stack of plates and a pie dish, dark with some congealed mess waited on a scrubbed pine table scattered liberally with mouse droppings.\u00a0 I opened a cabinet and came instantly face to face with a large, surprised rat.\u00a0 I slammed the door quickly shut again.\u00a0 There was a coffee pot on the stove.\u00a0 Lifting the lid I saw the grey film that had settled on top of the black liquid inside.\u00a0 The room smelled stale and sour.\u00a0 For the first time I wondered why this house was empty, why whoever had lived here had abandoned it without even clearing away the dirty dishes and the coffee pot.\u00a0 For some reason this question unsettled me.\u00a0 Maybe it was my weakened condition making me sensitive, but I found I didn\u2019t want to hang around in that room either.<\/p>\n

As I stepped back from the stove, I leapt violently, my stomach lurching into my throat. \u00a0A startled oath erupted unbidden from my mouth, and I all but dropped the lamp. At the window, there was a face, staring in at me.\u00a0 A woman\u2019s face.\u00a0 The girl with the red hair.\u00a0 The girl from my dream.\u00a0 I swear she even had a smudge of flour on her chin.<\/p>\n

I blinked, and in that instant, realized there was nothing there after all.\u00a0 The black rectangle of the window was a dark blank again, but my heart was still pounding.\u00a0 Had it been a trick of the light reflecting in the window?\u00a0 I told myself it was.\u00a0 A trick of the light and the effects of a heavy boot to the head.\u00a0 My senses were scattered.\u00a0 It was no wonder I was seeing things.<\/p>\n

Taking a deep breath to steady my shattered nerves, I turned to the door and careered back so wildly, the edge of the stove thudded hard into my back.\u00a0 I let out a strangled yelp.\u00a0 The figure in the doorway stood motionless, blank eyes gazing unseeingly from sunken sockets.<\/p>\n

\u2018Dammit, Joe!\u00a0 What are you trying to do?\u00a0 Scare me half to death?\u2019<\/p>\n

The blanket I had wrapped around him earlier hung loose from his shoulders.\u00a0 A spreading crimson stain blotted the bandage around his middle.<\/p>\n

\u2018You should be resting, not walking around,\u2019 I told him, trying to disguise the shakiness in my voice.<\/p>\n

Joe\u2019s lips were whiter even than his pale face.\u00a0\u00a0 The kitchen was cold; he was shivering again.\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0<\/em>I put the lamp down on the table, and hurried across the room to draw the blanket more closely around him.<\/p>\n

At my touch, he flinched and looked anxious.\u00a0 Vague recognition flickered in his eyes.\u00a0 \u2018Adam?\u2019 he whispered, uncertainly before his gaze clouded again.\u00a0 \u2018The pie\u2019s cooked.\u00a0 Call the children.\u2019 His voice slurred around the edges, as if he were drunk.<\/p>\n

I made an effort to keep my voice calm.\u00a0 \u2018There aren\u2019t any children, Joe.\u2019<\/p>\n

He frowned when I said that, and pushed past me, heading unsteadily for the far door.\u00a0 \u00a0Realizing what he was about to do, I was filled with a sudden, irrational panic and I had to grab him and haul him back.<\/p>\n

\u2018No, Joe!\u00a0 Don\u2019t open the door!\u2019<\/p>\n

I hadn\u2019t meant to be so rough.\u00a0 My manhandling pulled him completely off balance and he staggered sideways into the table.\u00a0 I managed to grab him before he fell.\u00a0 Embarrassed by my ridiculous over reaction, I mumbled an apology and some excuse about how he would only get wet and cold if he went outside, but it was clear he was not listening to me.<\/p>\n

\u2018Izzy, Daniel!\u2019 he called out sluggishly.<\/p>\n

The back of my neck prickled, my stomach went cold.\u00a0 I stared at him in alarm.\u00a0 And then logic stepped in and I realized I must have spoken in my sleep, called out the names I\u2019d heard in my dream.\u00a0 Now they were lodged in Joe\u2019s scrambled brain too.<\/p>\n

\u2018Come on, little brother, you need to lie down before you fall down.\u2019\u00a0 I attempted to make him look at me, but his gaze was held by something unseen.\u00a0 His body swayed uncertainly. I kept a hand on his arm to steady him.<\/p>\n

\u2018It\u2019s fresh out of the oven.\u00a0 That\u2019s the way they like it,\u2019 he insisted, his voice dull and thick<\/p>\n

\u2018That\u2019s how we all like it.\u2019 I was trying hard to keep my own strained voice light to hide the growing panic inside me.\u00a0 The way his eyes were so intently fixed on nothing was somehow deeply disturbing.\u00a0 \u2018Joe, you need to lie down.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Izzy?\u00a0 Daniel?\u2019 he repeated, more persistently.\u00a0 He tried again to move me out of his way, but he was too weak.\u00a0 I\u2019d had enough.\u00a0 I grabbed the lamp with my injured arm and Joe with the other.<\/p>\n

\u2018Back to bed, Joe.\u2019<\/p>\n

He hadn\u2019t the strength to resist, and when I got him back to the fire and once more lying down on the quilt, he seemed to give in, closing his eyes again obligingly as I wrapped the blankets close about him once more.\u00a0 But he kept murmuring about the pie and the children.\u00a0 Then, without warning, he called out, in a loud, clear voice, \u2018Don\u2019t hurt them!\u00a0 Please don\u2019t hurt them!\u2019
\nI lay down beside him.\u00a0 I am not a man prone to flights of imagination.\u00a0 I reminded myself of that fact now and determined that I would not take any more silly frights.\u00a0 But I couldn\u2019t shake off my troubling sense of unease.\u00a0 So I concentrated on trying to soothe Joe\u2019s agitated mumblings, listening to the rhythm of the rain outside and the intermittent growls of far off thunder.<\/p>\n

Just go to sleep, I told myself, sternly, but somehow, every little creak and groan of the house made me tense up like a scared kid.\u00a0 In desperation, I tried an old trick I\u2019ve used since I was a child.\u00a0 I began to recite poetry in my head.<\/p>\n

Let me not to the marriage of true minds<\/em><\/p>\n

Admit impediment….<\/em><\/p>\n

I had worked my way steadily through three Shakespeare sonnets and my concentration was slipping as sleep stole over me when I was jerked wide awake again by a sudden noise.<\/p>\n

Footsteps.\u00a0 Clattering on the wooden porch.\u00a0 And voices.\u00a0 Surely I had heard voices. \u00a0Children laughing.<\/p>\n

The room was silent.\u00a0 I forced myself to relax.\u00a0 I had been on the verge of falling asleep.\u00a0 It was the edge of a dream, that was all.\u00a0 Take a deep breath, I told myself. Think of another poem.<\/p>\n

Batter my heart, three person’d God; for you\u00a0 <\/em><\/p>\n

As yet but knocke\u2026<\/em><\/p>\n

No mistake this time.\u00a0 I had definitely heard the sound of a child\u2019s laughter outside the door.\u00a0 My heart raced uncomfortably.\u00a0 Beside me, Joe stirred.\u00a0 I must have disturbed him when I jumped up.\u00a0 \u2018Izzy, Daniel,\u2019 he muttered, and my stomach tightened into a cold knot.<\/p>\n

\u2018Sssh,\u2019 I whispered.\u00a0 \u2018It\u2019s nothing, Joe.\u00a0 Go back to sleep.\u2019<\/p>\n

He fumbled to drag the blanket from his shoulders.\u00a0 \u2018It\u2019s the children.\u00a0 They want some pie.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018There\u2019re no children, Joe.\u00a0 Just lie still.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018No!\u2019\u00a0 He fidgeted restlessly, struggling to sit up, but I pushed him back down.\u00a0 \u2018Don\u2019t!\u2019 he said, his voice filled with a sudden urgency.\u00a0 \u2018Don\u2019t hurt them!\u2019<\/p>\n

I heard another high-pitched laugh in the yard.\u00a0 My skin grew cold.\u00a0 I swallowed hard.<\/p>\n

\u2018No one\u2019s going to hurt anyone, Joe.\u00a0 Just lie still.\u2019<\/p>\n

He was fighting me.\u00a0 Where he was getting his strength from, I didn\u2019t know, but he was determined to get up.\u00a0 I knew without being told what he wanted to do.\u00a0 He wanted to open the door and let in the children.\u00a0 My belly contracted with fear when I thought of it.<\/p>\n

\u2018Daniel!\u2019 he called out, battling me.\u00a0 \u2018Izzy!\u2019<\/p>\n

He\u2019d rolled over and was up on his knees.\u00a0 I\u2019d left the lamp turned down low on the table and its light rendered the waxen pallor of his face a sickly yellow.\u00a0 I was on my knees too, gripping him by both arms.\u00a0 Then, in the mirror of his eyes, I caught a movement behind me.\u00a0 I spun around but there was no one there.\u00a0 But the distraction gave him the break he needed.\u00a0 He twisted free of my grip, inadvertently catching my injured arm a sharp blow as he did so.<\/p>\n

Pain took me by surprise.\u00a0 I fell away from him, swearing.\u00a0 He was up and staggering clumsily for the door.\u00a0 I was too slow to stop him.\u00a0 He was already fumbling with the latch.\u00a0 The door opened and he vanished out into the darkness.<\/p>\n

I had to go after him.\u00a0 Everything in me resisted but I forced my feet to carry me the short distance to the yawning void of the dark night outside, my heart hammering somewhere just below my throat.<\/p>\n

The rain was still falling steadily and the night was inky black.\u00a0 It was not just the cold dampness that made my skin crawl.\u00a0 The darkness itself seemed to press clammy, creeping fingers around me. \u00a0I could see and hear nothing except the rain. \u00a0Hovering uncertainly on the edge of the porch, my eyes strained for any sign of my brother.\u00a0 And then I saw the smudge of paler darkness, just below me, a heap on the waterlogged ground.<\/p>\n

\u2018Joe!\u2019\u00a0 The blackness as so complete I had to grope with my hands to identify his head, his shoulders, his back.\u00a0 He was very still.\u00a0 The darkness pressed its unfeeling palms against my eyeballs. I leaned my head down to where I judged his heart to be, but all I could hear was the rain. \u00a0Panic welled up inside me and a wild ,sound like a choked sob, escaped my throat. I tried to gather up his unconscious form but I was hindered by the darkness and my own weak state.\u00a0 My chest was heaving, my breathing labored as I finally rose unsteadily to my feet, Joe bundled limply in my arms.<\/p>\n

A bright flash of blue white lightning streaked across the sky, freezing the world in its blinding glare.\u00a0 The yard and the barn in front of me were thrown into startling relief, an image of dazzling clarity, imprinted on my brain for a brief fragment of a second.\u00a0 But in that instant, I saw something else.\u00a0 Standing in front of the barn door, hands clasped loosely in front of her, was the red-haired girl.\u00a0 And her eyes, patient and sad, were looking straight at me.<\/p>\n

******<\/p>\n

Even here in the sheriff\u2019s office, with the sun slanting through the bars of the cell window, I shudder to remember.\u00a0 It\u2019s as if the lightning flash branded that moment into my brain forever.<\/p>\n

The sheriff\u2019s wife is here again, her basket on her arm, a tureen of hot beef broth inside.\u00a0 She\u2019s been good to us.\u00a0 When I finally staggered back into this town and the sheriff heard my story, he let us bunk in this cell while he set out to track down the villains who had attacked us.\u00a0 We had no money to pay for a room anywhere else, or to buy a meal.\u00a0 And even if there had been a doctor in this god-forsaken place, we could not have engaged his services with no means of reimbursing him.\u00a0 But this prison cell is a whole lot cleaner than the hotel.\u00a0 And the sheriff\u2019s wife gave us one look and instantly took pity.<\/p>\n

She pours broth into a bowl and hands me a spoon and bread out of her basket.\u00a0 I thank her with genuine heartfelt gratitude, and move to Joe\u2019s side.\u00a0 Getting food into him is difficult but it\u2019s essential if he\u2019s going to recover all that blood he lost.\u00a0 The sheriff\u2019s wife waves me back to my own bunk.<\/p>\n

\u2018I\u2019ll do it,\u2019 she says, smiling.\u00a0 \u2018You eat something yourself, Mr. Cartwright.\u2019<\/p>\n

I smile back and thank her.\u00a0 She has a kind face.\u00a0 Her husband has a kind face too, although his is wearier, more resigned to disappointment than hers.\u00a0 I\u2019d put them at about the same age as Pa.\u00a0 She spoons small amounts of the broth carefully into Joe\u2019s mouth, and much to my relief, he swallows it.<\/p>\n

\u2018His fever doesn\u2019t seem any worse.\u2019 She looks at me reassuringly.\u00a0 \u2018I\u2019ll make a fresh poultice for his side when he\u2019s eaten this.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018You\u2019re very kind, Mrs. Briggs,\u2019 I tell her.\u00a0 \u2018As soon as we make contact with my father, I\u2019ll be able to repay you for all you\u2019ve done.\u2019<\/p>\n

She smiles again and shakes her head. \u2018Don\u2019t trouble yourself.\u00a0 It\u2019s more important right now that you focus on looking after your brother.\u00a0 The deputy\u2019s going to wire a message to your father as soon as he reaches Stockton, but it\u2019ll be at least a few days before you hear anything.\u2019<\/p>\n

I watch her feed Joe as I eat.\u00a0 So far I have not told anyone about what happened at the house.\u00a0 I\u2019m still not convinced I wasn\u2019t temporarily insane.\u00a0 When I told the sheriff where we had taken shelter, he gave me an odd look, but said nothing.\u00a0 Now I decide I might try asking Mrs. Briggs a few questions.<\/p>\n

\u2018The house we camped in, after we were attacked, about five miles east of town, who owns it?\u2019<\/p>\n

She gives me an appraising glance then goes back to spooning broth into Joe.<\/p>\n

\u2018The Fileys,\u2019 she says.<\/p>\n

I wonder if she might elaborate.\u00a0 When she doesn\u2019t, I push on. \u2018What happened to them?\u2019<\/p>\n

For a moment she says nothing, then she gives a little sigh.\u00a0 \u2018It was all very sad.\u00a0 A real tragedy.\u00a0 Sam Filey\u2019s wife died giving birth to their third child.\u00a0 Poor man took it very hard.\u00a0 He found a nurse for the baby but she couldn\u2019t look after his children long term because she had five of her own.\u00a0 One of my neighbors had recently had her niece come to live with her; a girl of seventeen.\u00a0 A bit of a wild thing to tell you the truth!\u00a0 Since she needed a way to earn her keep, Sam took her on to mind the children.\u00a0 She\u2019d ride out there every day and come home after dinner.\u00a0 Her aunt didn\u2019t hold out much hope that she\u2019d stick with the job, but she seemed to settle into it well enough.\u00a0 Surprised us all.\u2019<\/p>\n

Mrs. Briggs sets down the bowl and spoon and wipes gently at Joe\u2019s mouth with a clean cloth.\u00a0 \u2018Then something dreadful happened.\u00a0 About a year ago now.\u00a0 One evening Meg didn\u2019t come back to town, and then Sam Filey rode in, in a terrible way.\u00a0 Blood all over him.\u00a0 Hysterical.\u00a0 Said he\u2019d come home to find Meg gone and the children all murdered.\u00a0 She took a kitchen knife to them, Mr. Cartwright.\u00a0 Even the baby.\u00a0 It was a terrible, terrible thing.\u2019<\/p>\n

I stare at her in horror.\u00a0 \u2018The girl – Meg, did you say her name was – what did she look like?\u2019<\/p>\n

Mrs. Briggs frowns as if she wonders why I\u2019m asking.\u00a0 \u2018She was pretty enough in her own way.\u00a0 Green eyes, fiery red hair.\u00a0 Went with her temper, her aunt said.\u00a0 We should have taken that as an omen.\u00a0 Are you all right, Mr. Cartwright?\u00a0 You look very pale.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018I\u2019m fine,\u2019 I say, although my heart is racing uncomfortably.\u00a0 \u2018What happened to her?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018She took a horse, and money from the house, and disappeared.\u00a0 No one\u2019s heard from her from that day to this, although my husband sent out word to every town in the territory.\u00a0 Like I said, she always was a wild one, but none of us ever dreamed she was capable of something like that.\u00a0 Those poor children.\u00a0 The little girl can\u2019t have been more than six and her brother younger than that.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018And Sam Filey?\u00a0 What happened to him?\u2019<\/p>\n

Mrs. Briggs shakes her head.\u00a0 \u2018I don\u2019t rightly know.\u00a0 Right after it happened, he just upped and left.\u00a0 Couldn\u2019t bear to be near the place after everything that had gone on there.\u00a0 Can\u2019t say I blame him.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018No.\u2019 I sit in silence for a few moments.\u00a0 Mrs. Briggs picks up her basket, then she hesitates and looks at me with a touch of awkwardness.\u00a0 \u2018When my husband told me you and your brother had taken shelter there overnight…\u2019\u00a0 She stops and shakes her head.<\/p>\n

\u2018Yes?\u2019 I say.<\/p>\n

\u2018Well, it\u2019s only that… you see, no one goes near that place, Mr. Cartwright.\u00a0 It\u2019s had something of a reputation about it since…since the children\u2019s deaths.\u00a0 Strange stories.\u2019<\/p>\n

She can tell that I\u2019m troubled.\u00a0 I can see it in her face.\u00a0 \u2018Mrs. Briggs, what were the children called?\u2019<\/p>\n

Again she gives me that quizzical look and I notice another hesitation before she answers me.\u00a0 \u2018The baby was called Joshua. The little girl was Isabel, and the middle boy Daniel.\u00a0 Why do you ask, Mr. Cartwright?\u2019<\/p>\n

I shake my head.\u00a0 There\u2019s a cold hand clutching at my insides.\u00a0 \u2018Before I answer you, Mrs. Briggs, can I ask you one more question?\u2019<\/p>\n

There\u2019s a touch of wariness in the nod she gives then.<\/p>\n

\u2018Presumably it was your husband who had to go out to the house and deal with… with what had happened?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Yes, that was Robert.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Did he ever mention whether… well, did he ever say anything about \u2013 about an apple pie?\u2019<\/p>\n

Now she is giving me the oddest look, and I can understand why.\u00a0 But she answers all the same.\u00a0 \u2018I don\u2019t know, Mr. Cartwright.\u00a0 I wasn\u2019t there, you understand.\u00a0 You\u2019d have to ask Robert about that.\u2019<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

Darkness snapped back, denser than ever.\u00a0 Although I could see nothing, I could feel the girl\u2019s imperturbable gaze still boring into me.\u00a0 Cold horror seized my heart and it was all I could do to prevent a childish whimper of terror escaping my throat.\u00a0 Clumsily, I stumbled up the steps to the door.\u00a0\u00a0 Just as I reached it, I sniffed.\u00a0 It was unmistakable.\u00a0 Drifting across the wet yard was the smell of freshly baked apple pie.\u00a0 I could even detect an underlying hint of cinnamon.<\/p>\n

I kicked the door shut behind me, my heart beating so hard and so fast, my chest hurt from the pounding.\u00a0 I could hear my own breath erupting in loud, strangled sobs.\u00a0 By the side of the hearth, I collapsed in an untidy heap with my brother, and hunched still and trembling for several moments, my frightened eyes fastened on the front door, as I recovered my breath and my wits.<\/p>\n

The fire was burning brightly at my back, crackling with a reassuring cheerfulness.\u00a0 A shudder of relief ran through my body.<\/p>\n

Was I going mad?\u00a0 Had I really heard what I\u2019d thought I\u2019d heard, seen what I\u2019d imagined I\u2019d seen?\u00a0 Had the boot that collided with my head earlier completely scattered my wits?<\/p>\n

I still had hold of Joe.\u00a0 He was slumped across me, pale as a ghost and unmoving.\u00a0 The bandage round his middle was soaked with bright red blood.\u00a0 I shuffled my back against the stone of the hearth, keeping my arm tightly around my brother and my eyes fixed firmly on the door.\u00a0 In my imagination, the girl was crossing the yard.\u00a0 I could see her taking slow, purposeful steps towards the house, reaching the door, raising the latch…<\/p>\n

I took up the poker from the fireside, then I reached out to drag the quilt and Joe\u2019s abandoned blanket towards me.\u00a0 With clumsy, shaking hands, I bundled both around him, and settled him next to me, his head resting on my lap.<\/p>\n

\u2018I\u2019m sorry, kid, I\u2019m sorry,\u2019 I whispered at his unresponsive face, hearing the tremor in my own voice.\u00a0 \u2018Just don\u2019t die on me, do you hear?\u2019\u00a0 I lifted my eyes back to the door and laid my right hand on the poker again.<\/p>\n

The house was quiet now. Only the hiss and crackle of the logs burning, the familiar creaks and groans of wood breathing and the rhythmic tapping of the rain disturbed the stillness. \u00a0I was bone-tired.\u00a0 My jaw was sore and swollen, my head still ached and my wounded arm burned like I\u2019d been stung by a scorpion, but fear drove sleep from me; skin-crawling, heart pounding fear that kept my eyes darting nervously from window to door, and a deeper, soul-wrenching fear for my wounded brother, like a hard lump in my belly.<\/p>\n

Fear can make you crazy, and dawn was a long time coming.\u00a0 All through the remainder of that interminable night, I trembled and sweated, like a man in a fever.\u00a0 Every small noise caused my muscles to convulse; every flash of lightning set my heart racing anew.\u00a0 Twice the latch rattled on the front door and I imagined cold fingers lifting it and pushing the door wide, but it was only the wind.\u00a0 Once I turned my eyes to the dark rectangle of the window and thought for one sickening instant that I saw a white face peering in through the glass, but it was a trick of the firelight only.\u00a0 I thought I heard footsteps again – this time in the bedroom – a soft bump, and once the cry of a baby.\u00a0 Once I swear I heard a child shriek, and terror turned my insides to water – although maybe it was no more than the screech of an owl.<\/p>\n

All night long Joe hovered on the edge of consciousness, muttering strange names and rambling about children and apple pie.\u00a0 Several times, to my alarm, he jerked upright, eyes wide, crying out in anguished protest and I had to wrestle him back down and calm him with soothing words, while my own heart raced, and panic welled like nausea in my throat.<\/p>\n

\u2018No! \u00a0Don\u2019t!\u00a0 No!\u00a0 Leave them alone!\u00a0 Don\u2019t do that!\u2019 he cried out, over and over, his voice cracking into desperate sobs as he fought against my restraining arms, seemingly oblivious to my words of comfort, and my pleas for him to hear me, insensible even to his own name.\u00a0 His restless tossing and turning and his bouts of wild terror rubbed my frayed nerves to jangling point.\u00a0 And when he did occasionally subside into unmoving silence, my heart would beat harder and my stomach contract tighter because I feared he was slipping away beyond even the madness that seemed to possess him.<\/p>\n

To hang onto my sanity, I tried to think of home; of Pa and Hoss, the ranch; all the jobs that needed doing before the winter set in.\u00a0 But then I thought about breaking the news about the five thousand dollars and our stolen horses.\u00a0 And into my head sprang the terrible scenario of telling Pa and Hoss that Joe hadn\u2019t made it…<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

I think of Joe now as I ride with the sheriff back to the house.\u00a0 The sun is shining today.\u00a0 There\u2019s not a sign of a cloud in the sky, although there\u2019s a coolness in the air that speaks of winter.\u00a0 Yet even in the sunshine, the house and the yard carry that same bleak sense of abandonment that I felt before.\u00a0 I never thought I would return here.<\/p>\n

The sheriff halts the buckboard at the head of the incline that leads down to the house.\u00a0 We exchange a look with each other, and each of us can read the reluctance in the other\u2019s eyes.<\/p>\n

Only the two of us have come.\u00a0 Two is more than enough for what we have to do.<\/p>\n

I like Sheriff Briggs.\u00a0 There is something stoical and imperturbable about this man, but there\u2019s also a gentleness beneath the surface.\u00a0 I imagine Pa would like him too.\u00a0 He\u2019s solid and sensible and he doesn\u2019t waste words.<\/p>\n

\u2018Shall we?\u2019 he says.\u00a0 I hesitate only for a fraction of a second and then I nod.\u00a0 He urges the horses downwards. They toss their heads and fidget nervously.\u00a0 They aren\u2019t keen to go either.<\/p>\n

We climb down outside the barn.\u00a0 The sheriff raises his eyebrows at me.\u00a0 I walk round to the rear of the buckboard and lift out a shovel and toss it at him.\u00a0 My left arm is still bandaged, but it\u2019s healing well. I am fit enough to help him, so I lift out the second shovel and a broom, and then I cross to the barn door.<\/p>\n

I know what will happen when I open this door.\u00a0 Now that I\u2019m here, I\u2019m not scared any more.\u00a0 I am standing in the exact same spot I saw her standing, five nights ago.\u00a0\u00a0 I look back at the house, at the front window.\u00a0 For an instant I think I see movement behind the drapes.\u00a0 I stare hard, but I can\u2019t be certain.<\/p>\n

\u2018You sure about this?\u2019 asks the sheriff.\u00a0 He\u2019s looking uncomfortable.<\/p>\n

I nod, and I open the barn door.<\/p>\n

I\u2019m aware of it before I even walk through the door.\u00a0 As I step inside and the sheriff follows me, I look closely at him to see if he has noticed it too.<\/p>\n

\u2018Can you smell it?\u2019 I ask him.<\/p>\n

He gives me a puzzled look.\u00a0 \u2018Smell what?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Apple pie.\u2019<\/p>\n

He looks at me strangely.\u00a0 He\u2019s reserving judgment, I think.\u00a0 He can\u2019t decide whether I really am insane or not.\u00a0 When I questioned him yesterday evening, he gave me that same apprehensive look.<\/p>\n

\u2018When you went out to the Fileys\u2019 farm \u2013 after the murder – can you tell me, was there an apple pie on the kitchen table?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018An apple pie?\u2019\u00a0 He sounded completely flummoxed by the question.\u00a0 I could even detect a hint of suspicion in his eyes, as if he thought I might be trying to make a fool of him somehow.\u00a0 Then he furrowed his brow and looked at me long and hard.\u00a0 \u2018How did you know about that?\u2019<\/p>\n

His brow is furrowed again now as he stares around the empty barn.\u00a0 The abandoned stalls are full of rotting straw; tools rust on the walls.<\/p>\n

\u2018Are you sure?\u2019 he asks again<\/p>\n

\u2018I\u2019m certain.<\/p>\n

And I am.\u00a0 I cross to a stall in the corner.\u00a0 It should smell of moldy straw but instead it smells of sweet fruit and pastry crust, and a faint hint of cinnamon.\u00a0 I know before I even begin to sweep what I will find here.<\/p>\n

\u2018Sheriff?\u2019<\/p>\n

He crosses to my shoulder and looks down at the ground by my feet.\u00a0 There\u2019s no mistake.\u00a0\u00a0 The hard earth is packed less tightly here.\u00a0 In fact, a section of it, maybe five foot long by three foot wide, has sunk very slightly.\u00a0 With the loose dirt and straw swept away, it\u2019s plainly visible.<\/p>\n

\u2018She\u2019s here,\u2019 I tell him.<\/p>\n

With infinite care, and in silence, we do what we came here to do.\u00a0 Only the sound of the shovels hitting the hard earth breaks the quietness of the barn.\u00a0 I know what we will find and yet, oddly enough, I feel no dread, no fear now, only a sense of vindication; an elation almost that we are about to put right a very great wrong.<\/p>\n

She has been in the ground a year, but the sheriff knows her instantly.\u00a0 Her dress is still identifiable, and the red hair still frames the ruined face.<\/p>\n

The sheriff leans on his shovel and whistles softly through his teeth.\u00a0 \u2018Sheesh!\u2019 he mutters.\u00a0 \u2018Poor girl!\u00a0 How wrong can you be?\u2019<\/p>\n

Carefully we lift her out of the earth and wrap her in the linen shroud we brought for this very purpose.\u00a0 My elation has passed.\u00a0 As we lay her gently on the buckboard, I feel only a heavy sadness.<\/p>\n

\u2018She was only seventeen,\u2019 I say.\u00a0 \u2018The same age as my brother.\u2019<\/p>\n

The sheriff\u2019s face is grave.\u00a0 He casts his eye over the lonely house, the derelict yard.\u00a0 \u2018We\u2019ve done her a grave injustice, Mr. Cartwright.\u00a0 If it hadn\u2019t been for you and your brother…\u2019\u00a0 He shakes his head.\u00a0 \u2018Wherever Sam Filey is, I\u2019m going to track him down and make sure he pays for what he did here.\u2019\u00a0 He turns curious eyes on me.\u00a0 \u2018How did you know she didn\u2019t do it?\u2019<\/p>\n

I look back at the house.\u00a0 I picture the empty kitchen, the forgotten fruit bowl, the abandoned dishes.<\/p>\n

\u2018It just didn\u2019t seem right somehow,\u2019 I tell him.\u00a0 \u2018If she had been about to kill those children, why would she go to the trouble of baking an apple pie for them?\u00a0 It was there on the table, ready and waiting.\u00a0 It just makes no sense.\u2019<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

Back at the jail, Joe is awake at last.\u00a0 Mrs. Briggs, who has waited with him while we were gone, looks up at me, both pleased and anxious at the same time.<\/p>\n

\u2018Joe?\u2019 I say hopefully.<\/p>\n

He turns bruised eyes in my direction.\u00a0 \u2018Adam,\u2019 he says, and gives me a weak grin.\u00a0 I am overjoyed that he knows me again at last.<\/p>\n

\u2018How are you doing, younger brother?\u2019<\/p>\n

Mrs. Briggs answers for him.\u00a0 \u2018He\u2019s doing much better.\u00a0 His temperature\u2019s down and that wound is a lot less angry. What about you?\u00a0 How did you get on?\u00a0 Did you find her?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Find who?\u2019\u00a0 Joe wrinkles his brow.<\/p>\n

I sit down beside him on the bunk and lay my hand on his arm.\u00a0 \u2018The girl, Joe, remember?\u00a0 The girl with red hair?\u2019<\/p>\n

He gazes at me blankly.\u00a0 \u2018Why did you need to find her?\u00a0 She was just here.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Here?\u2019\u00a0 Puzzled, I look up at Mrs. Briggs.\u00a0 She shakes her head.<\/p>\n

\u2018No one\u2019s been by, dear,\u2019 she says gentIy, watching Joe out of troubled eyes.<\/p>\n

I look back at my brother.\u00a0 There\u2019s a little dint in his forehead.\u00a0 \u2018What do you mean, Joe?\u2019<\/p>\n

Joe sighs at my apparent slowness. \u2018I mean,\u2019 he says carefully, \u2018that she was just here.\u2019<\/p>\n

Now Mrs. Briggs exchanges an uncomfortable look with her husband.<\/p>\n

\u2018So,\u2019 I say to Joe, \u2018did she… uh…did she say<\/em> anything?\u2019<\/p>\n

Mrs. Briggs gives me a look that is halfway between concern and alarm.\u00a0 Joe frowns as he thinks.\u00a0 The effort clearly exhausts him.<\/p>\n

\u2018Not much.\u00a0 She…she smiled at me.\u00a0 And then she said she had to go.\u2019 \u00a0He looks very tired. He speaks only with an effort. \u2018She said the children were waiting for her.\u00a0 She had flour all over her arms.\u00a0 She\u2019d been baking.\u2019<\/p>\n

The sheriff drops his gaze.\u00a0 \u2018Apple pie,\u2019 he says quietly.<\/p>\n

Joe gives a soft smile.\u00a0 \u2018That\u2019s right,\u2019 he says, nodding sleepily.\u00a0 \u2018It\u2019s their favorite.\u00a0 Apple pie.\u2019<\/p>\n

The End<\/em><\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

Thanks for reading.\u00a0 If you enjoyed this story, please consider leaving a review, however short.\u00a0 I’m always pleased to receive comments via PM too.<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Robbed and left for dead at the roadside, Adam and Joe are forced to take shelter from a storm in an abandoned house. Injured himself, Adam struggles to keep his brother alive. But the house has a past, and it returns to haunt them…<\/p>\n

Rated: T WC 9500<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":18,"featured_media":9639,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"template-full-width-post.php","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_members_access_role":[],"_members_access_error":""},"categories":[1091,23,41,32,29,40],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3629","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-adam-joe","category-drama","category-hurtcomfort","category-mystery","category-halloween","category-challenges","wpcat-1091-id","wpcat-23-id","wpcat-41-id","wpcat-32-id","wpcat-29-id","wpcat-40-id"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/09\/Indiana-Dividing-Line.jpg?fit=716%2C554&ssl=1","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3629","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/18"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=3629"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3629\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/9639"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=3629"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=3629"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=3629"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}