Dancing with the Devil

Chapter Four

***

"How long will it take to get to that town?" Penelope asked that night as the two sat around a campfire. It was the first time that she had spoken since Ance had scolded her earlier in the day. 

"About three more good days of riding," Ance grunted, not taking his eyes away from the dancing flames. 

"My mama really does love me, Ance," Penelope assured him with certainty. "That man stole me away but I'll tell the orpan...offen...orna..." 

"Orphanage?" Ance cut in. 

Penelope nodded, "Yes, I'll tell the orphanage that my mama loves me and they'll find her." 

Ance simply shrugged. "Good luck with that." 

"Didn't your mama love you?" Penelope questioned as she laid her tiny hand upon his broad, thick shoulder.

Ance glanced down at those pale fingers as if they were lit sticks of dynamite with tiny fuses. "No, she didn't," he grunted before pulling away and poking at the fire with a stick. 

"How did you get that scar?" 

Ance shook his head, "I don't remember but I'll give you one to match if you don't hush up and just enjoy the quiet." 

Penelope shook her head and laid her chin in her hand. "You won't hurt me. If you were gonna do that you would have done it already." 

Ance glared at the girl as she threw his words back at him. "Just how old are you?" 

"Eight." 

"When I was eight I was already more than half grown and fending for myself most of the time," Ance told her. 

"Where was your mama?" 

"Working." Ance snorted. 

"Did your mama give you that scar?"

"No, now I told you to hush." 

Penelope pouted up and stared at the fire. Ance grunted and let his mind drift back twenty-three years to a time when he'd been a seven year old boy. He'd been sick, throwing up, and simply not feeling well. For some reason his weak body and ailing mind had thought he could go to his mother for comfort. 

It had been late at night and she'd been busy with a client at the saloon--though they had forgotten to lock the door. Ance had gone in and the man had leapt naked from the bed, grabbed a whiskey bottle and smashed it across Ance's face. 

He'd lost consciousness immediately and had woken up in the saloon owners bed. A man, an outlaw by the name of Jonah, had sewed up his lacerated cheek the best he could and was still waiting for Ance to wake up. The man had been friendly enough but then Ance's mother had come in. 

Ance had thought his mama would be at least a bit relieved to see her son breathing but the woman had been in a drunken rage. Her hair had been a mess of black tangles around her head and her lipstick and eye paint had been smeared across her face. She had stunk horribly of the brandy she liked to drink and she had jerked Ance from the bed and beat him soundly with a wooden ruler before stumbling back out of the room. 

The outlaw, Jonah, had simply sat there and watched. He had offered Ance a sad little smile and said, 'Some of us got hard lots in life, son. The best you can do is learn to fend for yourself and not ever depend on no one else for nothin'. This world will eat you up if you don't." 

Then the man had gotten up, adjusted his hat and left the saloon. Ance had never seen him again.... 

"Ance?" Penelope's gentle voice brought Ance back to the present. He glanced over at her to find her chewing on her full bottom lip as her brown eyes studied him. 

"What?" 

Penelope reached out her hand and laid it over Ance's on the ground. Ance stiffened at the tenderness, unsure what the knot in his throat was caused by and wondering why his chest suddenly felt tight. Penelope smiled comfortingly. "I'm sorry I made you sad. I didn't mean to." 

Ance sighed and offered the girl the smallest hint of a smile. "It wasn't your fault, Penelope. Now, you were telling me something about a kitten earlier today--what was her name again?" 

***

Audrey Reynolds had never known a bone deep sorrow and desperation like this in all her life. 

Her baby girl was gone. 

She'd been stolen away and no one would help! 

The local law enforcement said they had no leads to go on and no one seemed to know where Penelope had gone or who she had gone with. There was no greater fear a mother could feel than the fear that something terrible would happen to her child and she would be unable to protect them!

Audrey paced the wraparound porch of her two story home and stared out at the white picket fence and the corrals and barns. She wrung her hands and waited to see that familiar silhouette ride in.

U.S. Marshal Rodger York hadn't been her first choice in aide but when you were desperate to find your daughter you did anything that needed to be done--even call in help from the man who had been sniffing around your skirt tails since the day after your husband had been placed in the ground. 

Audrey had been a widow for five years--ever since her husband, Alexander, had been shot and killed while bringing in a group of wild mustangs for his stables. His murder had never been found and yet, whoever had killed her husband, hadn't taken the mustangs and the beasts had been rounded up and brought to her days later. 

Penelope had only been three at the time so while Audrey had been devastated at the loss, she had known that she had to stay strong and carry on for their daughter's sake. At least Alexander had left her with a profitable horse ranch and plenty of money in the bank so Audrey hadn't had to worry about taking care of their daughter financially. 

Rodger York had also made sure to stop by every chance he could. He had been the one to bring her the news of Alexander's death and had been hinting at the desire to marry her since then. Audrey had no desire to marry again. Her entire life was Penelope and she would not marry any man unless he too was just as in love with her daughter--and Rodger York was not. 

But he was a decent man and he was a lawman and Audrey knew that he would help her find her daughter. 

She nearly cried out with relief when she saw him riding in. He was pushing his horse hard and he hopped off quickly and ran to the porch with his hat in his hands. "Audrey, what's happened? Your message said I needed to be here immediately! Is something wrong? Are you ill?" 

Audrey shook her head. "It's not me, Rodger. It's Penelope," she replied, tears burning her eyes. 

Rodger frowned, his thick black mustache drooping. "What's wrong with the girl? Is she sick?" 

Audrey hated the impatience she heard though she understood it. Penelope had not been a healthy child and while the last couple of years had been better for her healthwise, she would never be completely whole because of the havoc the polio had wreaked on her leg. 

"She's gone, Rodger.. Someone took her away." 

Rodger's blue eyes widened and he ushered her toward the house as a ranch hand saw to his horse. "Come on inside, Audrey, and you can tell me what's going on." 

"They took her, Rodger! She's been gone for a week and I have no way of finding her and no one will help me!" Audrey felt that desperation clawing at her heart. 

Rodger shushed her soothingly and laid a gentle hand on her cheek. "Calm down now, sweetheart. I'm here now and you know I'll do anything I can for you. Now let's go in and have a talk and figure out just where to start to get Penelope back home with her mama where she belongs."