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Drat.
Dinah pulled the little girl forward. “Run,” she whisper-yelled.
Together, they hurried through the grass, but it was still slow going. While the grass did a fine job of hiding a person, it was also very hard to run through.
A gunshot sounded over their heads. Dinah cupped an arm more protectively around the little girl, but she didn’t allow either of them to slow.
They reached the tree just in time to see the cart disappearing down the road.
“Hang that man,” Dinah hissed.
A gun cocked directly behind Dinah. Slowly, she turned. One of the two men who had been awake in the circle stood close enough that she could see the pockmarks on his face and note his three missing teeth.
“What have we here?” He grinned even while resting the butt of his rifle against his shoulder. “Looks like the little mouse has attracted a cat.”
Another man, one who must have been sleeping before, hurried over, his rifle also raised. “Stop standing about and get them back to camp,” he said without so much as a glance Dinah’s way. His voice was lower than the pock-faced man. His hair was black and hung well over his ears. Several days’ worth of stubble covered his jaw, doing nothing to hide the sharpness of the angle. “Stand out here any longer and someone’s liable to drive by and see you.”
“Come on, then,” Pock-Face said to Dinah and the little girl, motioning with his gun for them to return.
With one arm around the little girl’s shoulders and the other holding her hand, they moved back through the grass yet again. If Dinah never saw grass this tall again, it would be too soon.
Not bothering to hide or be quiet, they reached the small circle of trampled grass quickly. As the other men joined them, Dinah endured more jeering and whistles than she had ever heard in her life. Heat pricked painfully against her cheeks, but she refused to drop her chin or return any of their gazes. Instead, she kept her eyes ahead and walked the little girl over to the very same spot she’d been sitting before.
“Sit down,” the man with dark hair and stubble instructed them, his voice distinctly lacking theenthusiasmall the other men seemed to exude at her presence.
Dinah helped the little girl down and then lowered herself to the grass-covered ground. She tucked her legs beneath her, seeing to it that her skirt kept her ankles covered. It was a little thing, but she wasn’t about to let these men believe they had her cowed. Indeed, she was not one who gave in to fear. The whistles and roving eyes could last all night; she would not squirm.
“Settle down,” the dark-haired man said, his voice firm.
For the most part, the men did, but that didn’t mean they stopped staring at Dinah. She turned her mind away from them. She would be better off figuring out her best option for escape. Being caught was not something Mr. Harding had taught her how to deal with. Perhaps she shouldn’t have been so willing to accept this job. Then again—her gaze fell to the little girl clutching tightly to her arm—if she hadn’t, she would have always hated herself for not at least trying. Even now, she couldn’t find it in herself to regret her choice.
She only regretted not having come here with a better plan.
Her eyes moved around the circle. The men were settling down. Most were even returning to sleep. Three sat chatting off to Dinah’s left, Pock-Face among them. Their frequent gazes her way and snickers meant they were undoubtedly talking about her. To her right sat the dark-haired man. As she turned his way, their eyes met.
His gaze was as dark as his hair. Though his skin was fair, it was the only thing about him that wasn’t black. His clothes, his hair, his eyes, his gun resting atop his lap, all of it was completely black. His eyes held hers, as though he were daring her to look away first. While all the other men had jeered at her with leering smiles and rough laughter, this man stared at her with open animosity. She couldn’t imagine why. She was no threat to him, had in no way attacked or injured him. And yet, his expression was one of complete hatred, as black as the rest of him.
Dinah could stand it no longer, and she looked away. The moment she did, out of the corner of her eye, she saw his gaze drop as well. He pulled out a bit of fabric—black fabric—and began cleaning his gun. Dinah tried to suppress the shudder that threatened to visibly shake her. There was much she needed to figure out and very little time in which to do it. But one thing was already clear—he was one man she should stay far away from.
