Free A Heart for the Taking by Shirlee Busbee Page A

arming the savages. He was a
Walker.
But not being a fool, he had also taken the precaution of having nothing directly to do with it. His man, Simmons, had arranged it all; he had merely provided the money. And if, by chance, he was connected to the sale of arms to the Indians, well then, he could depend upon his staid older brother to move heaven and hearth to protect the Walker name from scandal.
    A discreet tap on the door interrupted his musings, and at his command, Simmons walked into the room. Jonathan quirked a brow at him.
    His dark face giving nothing away, Simmons bowed and murmured, “The arrangements have been made. The Thackers will rendezvous with me near Green Springs.”
    “They know that you will be following closely behind my party?”
    Simmons nodded. “Yes. They think that I am doing this on my own, and they understand that under no circumstance are they to show themselves to your party, that our meeting must be completely secret.”
    Jonathan rubbed his chin. “Are you certain that they can be trusted? Their reputation is not, ah, commendable.”
    Simmons smiled coolly. “They are distantly related to me, and while they are knaves and scoundrels, they have a strong belief in the blood tie. They will not cheat
me.
”
    “And
you
will not cheat me, will you?” Jonathan asked silkily.
    “Since you can have me hanged if you decide to tell what you know about me, I rather doubt that shall happen.”
    Jonathan chuckled. “My dear fellow, I confess that you are a perfect tool, and as long as you obey me, I see no reason to speak of the disappearance of your previous employer.”
    His black eyes inscrutable, Simmons asked quietly, “Does it not worry you that someday I may rebel and make you disappear as well?”
    Jonathan shook his head. “No. You see, I know what you are capable of. Poor Ned Jenkins did not, and it was just your bad luck that I stumbled across you attempting to hide his body that night.” Jonathan’s eyes narrowed. “And of course we both know of the letter I’ve given to my solicitor in Williamsburg which is to be opened immediately should something untoward happen to me.” Rising to his feet, Jonathan clapped his valet on the shoulder. “But let us not talk of unpleasantness. Let us think of all the filthy lucre which will be ours when the Thackers return next spring from trading with the Indians.”
    *     *     *
    Fancy woke cross and out of sorts the next morning, but by the time they pulled away from the tavern just at daybreak, she had managed to push aside her misgivings and looked forward to the next phase of their journey.
    It was quite a large party that made up the Walker contingent. In addition to the Walkers and Merrivales, there were a dozen slaves and three indentured servants who accompanied them, as well as several wagons—household goods and supplies that had been purchased in town. Simmons, busy with some errands for Jonathan, was going to follow themlater, and it was planned for him to overtake them before they had traveled very many days.
    The three women rode in an excellently sprung carriage, while the two gentlemen rode astride, Jonathan on a restive bay gelding, Sam atop a quiet chestnut mare. Uneasily Fancy noted that both gentlemen and the indentured servants were armed with long black rifles, and Jonathan and Sam each also wore a brace of pistols across their chests. The tales of treachery and danger in the wilderness that Jonathan had told her, of people who disappeared, of murdered husbands and raped wives and stolen goods and horses, suddenly took on a more personal meaning for Fancy.
    Depending on the weather, the condition of the roads, what roads there were, and the state of the various rivers and streams they had to cross, the journey to Walker Ridge would take several days. Fancy was looking forward to her first taste of frontier living, as it were. She knew, from all the supplies and servants, that it wasn’t going to be true