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A clomp of hooves against the ice-covered road made Hannah slow and move to the side of the road, sure Joseph would appear astride Anvil.
But he did not.
Two riders rounded the corner toward her, their scarlet coats blazoning their approach.
Her breathing stalled when the face of the first soldier met her eyes. Greene.
He stopped, the other beside him. His wiry smile curled up his face, not hiding his satisfaction at finding her alone. Resting his hands on his saddle, he glanced to his companion. “What have we here, Pryer?” He looked back to her and leaned forward. “Poor young miss. You must be chilled clear through.”
Higley’s concern of a quarter hour past blared like the warning call of a trumpet. She should never have gone out without Joseph.
“Should we not assist her, Captain?” The man called Pryer urged his mount a few steps closer. “It appears to me she is alone, and such a thing should not be. No, no.” Sneering, he turned to Greene with a laugh.
Vile man. Shoving the block of fear from impeding her path, Hannah continued forward, chin raised, refusing with her silence to offer them the reaction they craved.
“Hold on now.” Jumping down, Greene blocked her path, arms outstretched until she came to a complete stop.
Hannah struggled against a growl that churned in her chest and lunged to step around him, but he gripped her shoulder and spun her around. “This was the one I was telling you about, Pryer. Stockton’s little pet.”
The other soldier dismounted and came around the front of Greene’s horse to where she stood. Tall and thick muscled, the man’s face would have been handsome had not the gloss of lechery in his stare turned his visage to that of a gargoyle.
“She’s a pretty one.”
Eyes trailing her from head to foot, the downy hairs on Hannah’s skin stood on end.
Grinning, he looked to Greene. “Now, what would you say she’s doing out here unaccompanied?”
Hannah stepped back, throwing at them the rage that erupted and eclipsed the haze of fear. “I am returning home from town, and if you are at all a gentleman, you would let me pass…” Like a steady rope tied firm between anger and courage, her voice held firm. “Out of my way.”
“What are you about, woman?” Greene’s grip on her shoulder tightened, and he turned her to face him. “Don’t think I will be taken in. Stockton is a fool, but not I. I know you were here before—there was no hired help.”
A hotness crept up her neck, and she prayed to God he wouldn’t see it. “I don’t know what you mean. I’ve told you the truth.”
His fingers dug deeper, and she yanked against his hold, but he wouldn’t release.
“Let me go!”
“Major Pitman has discovered an informant.” Greene looked to Pryer with a nod, and the man moved around to her back. “We are to question every person in town and on the road.” His dark-brown eyes slipped to ebony. “How fortunate we have found you alone.”
Panic’s double-edged sword cut swift and deep. She tried to dart away, but the iron grip of both men held her firm, grinding their fingers into her arms.
Greene pulled her back, holding her just inches from his face. Looming like a black storm, he towered over her. “You are a fragile little glass box. We need only tap you before you break apart and spill your filthy secrets.”
“I have no secrets!” With a hard pull she prepared to yank herself free, but Greene released at the same moment, and she flew backward against the ground, her head hitting the ice with a thud.
Tiny lights sparked her vision as a ruckus of laughter filled the quiet wood, making two voices sound like twenty. Get up. You must get up. Turning to her side she blinked harder and pushed to sitting. If only her head would stop spinning…
“Watch yourself there, little lady,” Pryer chided, a satisfied stretch of grin over his face
Hannah scrambled to her feet but slipped in search of her footing, when a hard boot kicked her backside. She went sprawling with a yelp, the cold ice smacking her face with a stab of pain. A hot liquid drained down her lips.
Shaking, the reality hit as hard as the unforgiving ground. Slowly, she pushed up, drops of scarlet splattering the dirty snow beneath her nose. Fear’s imposing shape shadowed her from behind as another spray of guffaws were thrown through the wood.
“Get up.” Greene kicked her again.
And again her face smacked the ground.
“Get up and let us search you. I know you are not so innocent.”
