She was halfway to town before her heart stopped racing with Magnus’s hoofbeats. The men hadn’t followed. The blur disappeared, but the feeling that she was being watched had not abated. She kept her pace all the way to Doc Campbell’s. Stopping only when she’d arrived a few paces from the stable.
Rosalee met her in the yard wiping her hands on a snowy apron followed by Beti’s favorite person her sheepdog Nellie. Fear slid off her shoulders as she alighted.
“Go in the house,” Beti ordered. “I shall see to Magnus then tell ye all.”
Once inside the stable, where neither of them could be seen, Beti took a deep breath and listened. She motioned to Tim, Doctor Campbell’s man of work, to stay quiet. Nellie sat obediently at her feet. Beti squatted down to give her a welcome scruff all the while listening for the sound of hoofbeats.
Nothing.
Tim reached for the reins. “I will see to him, miss.”
Beti pulled the loose lines to her side bringing a panting Magnus closer. “Thank ye, but I shall take care of Magnus tonight.”
Tim headed toward the back of the stable.
Beti smoothed her hand down Magnus’ crest and rested her head against him. His steady strength reminded her she was not alone. She pushed away the peace she knew she should feel at the comforting thought. “Ye saved me today.” She righted herself to look in his eye. “Thank ye.”
The stallion nodded. Beti unbuckled the saddle and began to brush him down.
Each stroke of the brush replaced the shaking fear she’d felt as she’d galloped to the Campbells’ with white hot anger. How dare they dig up her father’s grave?
Her father had used his real name when he’d been pardoned by the king and moved to North Carolina. Calling himself Billy Boatman didn’t stop seekers from finding Ethelred the Black. Throughout their time on the Outer Banks, greedy men came to hunt for fabled treasure now and again. Billy always dealt with them with kindness and generosity. He believed God brought the men to North Carolina so Billy could tell them the story of salvation. That alone had won hearts. The infamous Ethelred the Black, Red the Black, telling them of kneeling at the cross of Jesus. Beti watched the faces of the men as they listened to her father. Some believed. Some listened with gleaming lascivious eyes that made her shudder. The last looters to grace their presence came at least three years ago. She’d not planned for a renewal of the assault on their home when her father died. Although when she thought about it that way there was a certain logic to it. Red was gone, there was no one to defend the mythical treasure now.
True, the house was no longer hers as of tomorrow, but that truth did not satiate her fury. She wouldn’t have to leave her home and her only friends if it had been more hospitable.
Tim returned with a feed bag as Beti finished grooming her stallion. She gave Magnus his feed and with a nod at Tim retrieved her prize from the saddlebag. The soft leather bent with many readings, she clutched her father’s Bible to her chest. She wasn’t going to let it out of her sight until she’d tucked it safely away in her trunk. Beti paused as the familiar words played in her mind.
“Where’s the treasure?” They’d threaten.
“The treasure is here.” He’d point to his well-worn Bible. The treasure is here. How many times he’d pointed to this very book and said the words. To every greedy soul who’d braved a journey to confront the wicked Red the Black.
Beti looked carefully before crossing the yard to the house. She had no desire to be caught by something or someone lurking in the shadows of the deepening twilight. Nellie arrived at her side.
“That will do, Nellie. Ye know Rosalee will not let ye in the house.” Beti petted her faithful friend before the dog trotted off to the warm bed Tim had prepared.
Rosalee met her in the hall outside the parlor. “Tell me what happened.”
“Two men showed up just as I was about to leave.”
Rosalie opened her arms, and Beti stepped into the embrace of her mother’s maid. The only person left who’d known her since she was a child.
“All the more reason ye should stay with us.” All the more reason she could never stay with them.
Rosalee kept her arm around Beti leading her to the parlor. Dr. Campbell’s white, perpetually windblown hair glowed in the firelight as he rose from his seat.
Beti loved this room with its bookshelves and large stone fireplace. She’d often visited with her father. Listening with knitting pins in hand while the two old friends argued and laughed. Last year Doc finally gave up his bachelor existence to wed. Now Rosalee’s preference for pink dotted the room with doilies, dried flowers, and embroideries.
“Rosalee said there was trouble?” Doc removed the spectacles perched on the end of his nose. The lines in his face spoke of weariness and the loss of his good friend. And the farce they were forced to play to protect her father’s remains.
The three of them took seats around the small gaming table they’d taken to using for tea each evening since her father’s death.
“Looters?” Doc pinched the bridge between his eyes.
“Yes. They took to digging without so much as a tour of the house.”
“Thank God for that.” Rosalee filled a cup and passed it to her husband. She filled another and handed it to Beti. “Now ye see why it would be wiser for ye to stay with us. It is not good for a defenseless woman to send herself off to the west with no protection.”
Beti tossed a glance at the aging friend of her father’s. Her heart filled with love for these two people who’d stood by her during her father’s illness. Who’d been her friends when she had no others.
“I must go.” If for no other reason than to protect them from those with gleaming eyes who’d not taken to heart the truth Red had shared. Those men would be back, and others, always searching for what they could not find. She would not risk the lives of these two precious people. “This is my chance to make a whole new life. No one will know me in Kentucky. And if they have heard of Red the Black, they will not have heard of Beti Sigridsdatter.”
“So you have decided to take your mother’s name.” Rosalee smiled.
“Not until today.”
“Be careful. We don’t win when we play with the devil’s tactics.” Doc Campbell blew on his dish of tea.
Beti nodded her ascent. “It won’t be for long. Once I get to Kentucky, I will use my own name. All my money is in my real name.”
“At least Billy left you well taken care of.”
“Aye. With that and the sale of our home, I have plenty.”
They fell into silence.
“Can I ask ye—” Doc put his teacup down and laced his fingers over his belly leaning forward. A twinkle lit his eye reminding Beti of the long-standing joke between her father and his friend. “Are ye sure there’s no treasure?”
“Aye, sure there is,” Beti retrieved the worn leather Bible. “Tis here, old friend.”
