~ Echoes of Drowning Creek ~

by

Marilyn Nichols Kapp

Belly down on a bed of icy leaves Randy Heydon cupped her hands and held them to her mouth. A pale moon crept over the peak of Pilot Knob and brought with it a biting wind that whistled through the ravine, stung her cheeks, and filled her eyes with tears. Dampness from the frozen ground seeped through her clothes and lay on her skin like a chilling fog.

For the hundredth time, she puffed warm breath on her fingers then stuck them under her arms to hold the heat a little longer. The cold was misery, but worse was the prickle of impatience crawling along her flesh.

Months of hoping, scheming, and lying awake at night anticipating the sweet release of vengeance, had brought them here. Now that it was almost time, the minutes stretched ahead, each second an eternity all its own.

She sighed and squirmed closer to Toby, grateful for his support.

Toby laid his arm across her shoulders and leaned close to whisper, "Patience, Sweetheart. It'll be easier if you don't think about it. Just think about tomorrow."

Tomorrow! The rush of warmth that filled her was almost enough to dull the chill. Tomorrow would bring something new; something as bright and shiny as the lone star winking through the net of swaying limbs above her head.

First though, was getting through tonight.

She shivered and tried to concentrate on the activity around the fire glowing in the hollow below. Sight of the flames and the men stretching their hands to the heat, only intensified the cold on the ridge.

Soon the waiting and the heartache would be behind her. Any minute Zeke Isaacs would walk into the trap that Josh, Toby, and she helped the sheriff set. Unbidden, a question grazed her thoughts. When Isaacs was finally tried and convicted would it lessen the sour taste his name brought to her mouth? If he went to jail it would be for bootlegging, not the killing of Josh’s wife and children.

The injustice of it brought another surge of prickly skin. She slid the cap from her head and raked her fingers through the thick tangle of her hair. God, she hated waiting. When this was over, she dared anyone to ever mention patience to her again!

"Just a little longer, Randy," Josh promised softly.

She nodded grudging reassurance through the darkness at her brother. They had waited too long, been disappointed too many times, to let a restless moment spoil it now. Sighing again, she forced herself to settle down and pass the time by watching the men who guarded the moonshine still on the floor of the ravine.

One of the men, the younger of the two, straightened from his crouched position and fed the end of a long log into the small stone furnace. From the scant amount of smoke rising above the flue, Randy judged the wood to be ash or hickory. Both burned hot and clean.

Raising her head, she sniffed for the familiar odor—like soured dough — but her nose was too cold to smell the cooking mash.

Josh, Toby and she had lain there, enduring the discomfort, since the last light of day had faded into dusk. But it would be worth every minute of the ordeal, if after all these years, her brother could at last find peace of mind.

Josh stiffened beside her and turned to peer through the night toward the old abandoned logging road.

Miranda listened. All was quiet except for the hoot of an owl somewhere down the ridge. Then she heard the low groan of an engine straining up the hill. The sound faltered, was followed immediately by the grinding of gears as the driver shifted to low. Then two piercing beams of light swung around a bend. She flattened against the ground.

A sharp intake of breath from Josh made her wonder what he must be feeling now. Her own heart was pounding wildly. She swallowed hard. Josh would be in even more danger if anything went wrong tonight.

Toby raised the rifle to his shoulder and laid his cheek against the stock.

Miranda tensed as the car lights went off. The engine stopped. She heard the door slam and someone cough. Below, in the circle of firelight, the smaller man was checking the bead in the proof vial. He dropped the bottle and grabbed for something inside his coat. Both men stared at the path on the other side of the ravine, visibly relaxing when a big man in a dark overcoat strode down the path into view.

"Zeke, where the hell've you been?" grumbled the man in the Mackinaw jacket. The voices carried clearly on the cold night air.

"None of your business, Mac," replied Zeke. "Open up the hole and be quick about it. I want to take inventory and get out of here." He turned on his heel, his head swiveling from side to side as his gaze roamed the rim of darkness. "We've been too long in one spot. I get the willies after a couple o' weeks. We'll move out of here after this run."

Mac took a ring of keys from his pocket and the men disappeared below the sagging roof of an old lean‑to. Josh had cut those poles and built the shelter years ago. The coincidence was satisfying. It fit the natural order of things that Zeke be taken here at the still her brother had started.

"Josh," Miranda whispered above the roaring in her ears, "you sure the law will get here in time?"

Toby answered Miranda's question.

"They'll be here, if they ain't already. Don't you worry, Randy." He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"It won't be long, now. Toby, keep an eye on Isaacs. I'll be back in a minute." Josh pushed to his feet and strode away, his footsteps swishing softly in the layers of forest carpet.

"Where's he going?" she whispered.

"He'll be back."

Below, the men came out of the shed. The one called Mac carried a jug. He uncapped it, raised it to his lips and drank. The smaller man grinned as Mac lowered the jar and shook his head. "This is a good run!"

He wiped his chin on his coat sleeve.

Isaacs watched the woods, tugging at his gloves.

Randy kept her eyes on Isaacs.

He seemed much too jumpy to her. She had thought a man of his reputation would have nerves as tough as a locust post. What was worrying him? She'd heard nothing out of the ordinary, seen nothing unexpected. Had Josh's movements given them away?

Something was wrong. Randy dug her fingers into Toby's arm. "He's going to bolt, Toby. I know it."

Below, the little man took the moonshine then froze, the container almost to his mouth.

"Hands in the air!" Someone shouted.

Mac swore.

A dozen men poured out of the forest, some sliding, some jumping down the bank into the hollow.

"Damn!" Toby muttered and swung the rifle.

Randy craned to see the direction of his aim. Isaacs was already halfway up the bank, sprinting for the woods. He had heard something!

"No," Miranda cried, jumping to her feet. "Don't let him get away." She flung a handful of leaves at the fleeing figure. Her shoulders drooped as turmoil erupted below. The crack of Toby's rifle was like an explosion inside her head. Gunpowder burned her nostrils and left a metallic taste on her tongue.

“My God, Toby. Don’t kill him,” Randy whispered.

“I’m not. I just wanted to stop him.

On the fringe of firelight, Isaacs crouched, arm raised, pointing in their direction. A spurt of fire, a sharp report and a twig snapped from a branch above her head.

Another shot echoed from the cliffs. The jug of liquor smashed. Flames leaped, died, and flared again as the alcohol splashed the coals.

Randy couldn't believe her eyes as Isaacs reached the top of the bank and disappeared into the woods.

Oh, God. Stop him, please! She couldn't go through another day hanging around that poolroom, dressed like an urchin, scared to death Isaacs would catch her there. If they failed tonight, Isaacs wouldn't drop his guard for a minute.

She brushed the hair from her face and turned toward the thicket where her brother had disappeared. Her stomach knotted with fear. Josh was unarmed. If he should meet Isaacs in the woods…

Making no effort to hold her voice down, she cried, "Josh! Where's Josh?"

"Here!" Josh crashed through the underbrush as the sheriff's men scrambled after Mac and the little man. “What happened?”

Tears scalded her cheeks as she ran toward her brother, fists clenched, arms waving. "Did you see that? Did you see? The bastard got away!"

"I promise you, he won't get far." Josh's voice was low, even, but the tone dried her eyes and made her heart skip a beat.

He dropped something on the ground and squatted, "Toby, strike a match!"