Page 34 of The Heart’s Charge

Jonah’s right hand moved to his gun. He glanced over the kid’s head, looking for someone or something giving chase, but nothing else moved. The kid finally glanced up. Recognition stabbed Jonah in the gut.

“Sam.”

In a flash, Jonah was urging Augustus into action. The horse responded instantly, and the two raced to intercept the boy.

He heard Eliza’s concerned call behind him, but Jonah didn’t stop to explain. Only one thing drove a kid to run that hard for the nearest adult—danger.

Sam must have heard the approaching hoofbeats, for he stumbled to a halt, his eyes widening in his face. He backed up a step or two, obviously thinking he’d run across a new threat.

“Sam!” Jonah called, hoping to reassure him.

The boy’s face cleared. All backpedaling ceased, and he took off toward Jonah.

The distance shrank between them. Jonah reined Augustus in and leapt from the saddle before they’d fully halted. He ran to Sam and dropped to one knee. “What is it, son? What happened?”

The boy struggled to catch his breath, his exhaustion doubling him over. “Kiddy . . . snatchers. I saw ’em . . . by the . . . old oak.” He pointed to an ambiguous spot behind him. “They got Rawley.”

CHAPTER

FIFTEEN

Jonah’s insides stilled, then hardened as if he were sighting down his rifle for a long-range shot. No room for unnecessary data. Only his purpose. His target.

He squeezed Sam’s shoulder. “Can you show me?”

Sam’s nostrils flared, but he nodded.

Jonah stood, swinging the boy up into his arms as he went. In two strides, he was beside Augustus. Gripping Sam beneath his arms, he set him in the saddle, then mounted behind him, scooting the boy into the small space between himself and the saddle horn. Sam was still panting from his run, but he immediately directed Jonah with a jutting arm and pointed finger.

“That way.”

Jonah nudged Augustus into a slow canter—fast enough to give chase, but not so fast they would miss evidence.

Like the scuff marks in the dirt around the old oak and the hoofprints leading west. Jonah pulled Augustus to a halt and ordered him to stand while he examined the area.

“This is where me and Rawley meet when he’s in town,” Sam explained as Jonah picked out details about the horse he’d be following.

Average size. Heavy rider. No, not heavy. He had the boy with him, weighing down the horse. Jonah zeroed in on one of the rear hoofprints. It had a small nick at the front of the arc. Likely from a chipped hoof overdue for trimming.

“I was late gettin’ away from school,” Sam said, self-blame coloring his voice. “Miz Fieldman asked me to clean the blackboard. I tried to hurry, but she wouldn’t let me go ’til it was perfect. If I’da been faster . . .”

Jonah had seen enough of the ground. He remounted Augustus. “If you’d been faster, you would’ve been taken too, and there would’ve been no one to go for help. You should thank God for dirty blackboards. Now, let’s find your friend.”

Jonah nudged Augustus into a lope, keeping his gaze locked on the hoofprints glaring up from ground more accustomed to the feet of schoolchildren.

Rawley had put up quite a fight, by the look of the disturbed dirt and leaves by the tree. The kid was a scrapper. One didn’t ride the rails without learning how to fend for himself. Even against someone twice his size.

Come on, kid. Make some trouble.

The kidnapper had too much of a lead for Jonah to catch him unless he was forced to slow down or stop.

Give me an opening, Lord. Anything.

A horse’s scream shot through the air. Jonah pinpointed the direction, tightened his hold on Sam, then urged Augustus into a full gallop. No need to watch for tracks if he knew the location of his target.

When they crested a small hill, the target came into view. A bucking horse. Something protruding from its flank. A man picking himself up from the ground and retrieving his hat. Steadying the horse. Removing the foreign object. A knife, by the look of it, its blade red with blood.

Where was the kid?