Love by Dawn

Cassandra!

The urgent command shocked the dead of the night. The sound of horse hooves beat upon the sleeping earth like a tom-tom, waking all creatures and a young Cassandra Walsh. But she only half listened, as she struggled with her semi-conscience.

Casey! This time there was no mistaking the truth. She was being summoned and she came awake with a jolt. At first, she thought perhaps she was dreaming; the mind can work strangely when suspended in sleep. Struggling with real and imagined images, she shook her head trying to calm the wild beating of her heart. Dream or not, something was wrong. Born with an uncanny sixth sense of knowing when anything bad was going to happen, spasms of alarm erupted within her and she swallowed the terror that rose in her throat.

She heard it again. Casey! The familiar voice was urgent; a warning bell rang in her brain. Now fully awake, her mind instantly recognized her father’s voice that ripped the night, sending a chill up her spine. He was not at home, but she had heard him as clear as if he were in the room. Quickly, she slipped on a cotton robe. With shaking hands, she clutched it together and ran from her room, through the small cabin to the front door.

For a moment, she hesitated before throwing open the weather-beaten barrier. The damp night air chilled her immediately as she peered into the darkness. The wind picked up the moment she stepped onto the rickety porch; an owl hooted, making her jump. Her long hair whipped around her face and she shivered more from her uneasy feeling than the night air. Frustrated because she couldn’t see past the large pine trees, she went inside and returned to her room feeling her heart tighten as if a web was being woven snugly around it. Trying to sleep was useless; her mind was filled with anxiety, half in anticipation and half in dread.

A coyote howled for its mate in the distance made her feel more isolated.

Many long minutes passed. Casey paced the floor until she heard a horse’s whinny outside the cabin. Her head snapped up and her heart raced as she listened to the footsteps before her bedroom door flew opened. She stood frozen in time.

Casey!

Her father nearly fell into her room. His was panting and gasping, clutching his chest, as he took in deep breaths of air. Despite her fears, she felt a moment of relief and awful joy. Father? she gasped, going quickly to his side. What happened? What’s wrong? Where’s Hunter?

Her mind was in turmoil; part of her dreaded his answer. Part of her suspected she should be frightened to hear it but she needed to. Her father was covered with mud and acting like the devil himself was chasing him. Her hands trembled as she led her father to the bed. Her relief was short-lived and she wanted her questions answered, but he needed tending. His breathing was uneven and labored, telling her he’d been riding long and hard. She feared for her brother also. Where was he?

Get dressed child, her father ordered with a gasp of breath. I’ve no time to explain.

But…

Now! The command was blunt and to the point, but his voice lacked strength.

Casey wanted to question him again, but she bit back tears of frustration; she had to obey him and believe that it must be important for them to leave in such a hurry. She would find out later and prayed that her brother was all right. Quickly, she dressed, remembering the last time she and Hunter fled into the night, they were running from Union soldiers. She was sure this was the case again.

Once more, she donned her brother’s clothes, something she took to doing a long time ago. With no mother to scold her into wearing dresses and since she did most of the chores, she found boys clothes more comfortable. Anyway, who saw her deep in the woods? She never recalled living anywhere except in the wilderness, even when her mother was alive.

Oh, mama, she sobbed, I wish you were here. Maybe papa wouldn’t be on the run all the time. She shrugged to herself. The truth was, even her mother couldn’t change him; he was always doing something that got him into trouble. She was sure it was this kind of life that killed her mother at an early age. Inhaling deeply, she wondered if her mother could have kept her brother from following in her father’s footsteps. She frowned and swore unladylike under her breathe. Probably not.

Hurry up, girl! she heard him bellow from outside. She shoved her long golden hair under her hat, grabbed her rifle, then ran. Her father was waiting for her and had her horse, Sadie, saddled.

Once again, she asked as she mounted Sadie. Where’s Hunter?

No time to explain, he grumbled. His eyes warning her that this was no moment for stubbornness.

Casey swung her mount around and they fled into the darkness, riding hard all night. Although she was an excellent rider and could keep up with any man, her backside was quite sore. Her spine ached and her legs were beginning to chafe. It had been a while since she spent time in the saddle and her aches were reminding her of that fact. By morning she was thirsty, sore and chilled to the bone from the drizzle that had started shortly before dawn. The country was remote and calm, a far cry from her own emotions; her insides were in a whirlwind. They had to stop soon, for the horses couldn’t continue at that pace. Finally, her father stopped at a stream where they, their mounts drank and rested.

Marcus believed they were safe now, but the pain in his left arm was getting worse. How could he tell his daughter that they had been ambushed? That her brother was probably captured or maybe dead? He had barely escaped himself. After he had hightailed away, he was sorry for dragging the boy into his dealings. He prayed he’d not find his son’s dead body. He had seen the boy fall from his horse; never would he forgive himself. Never! His self-chastising was a little late but he had to try and save Hunter.

It was time to explain to his daughter the facts. He felt the weight of her gaze on him, as he turned to see confusion and fear written all over her lovely face. There was such prettiness about her, innocence, but his daughter was by no means a novice of life. For her it had been a hard one and it was entirely his fault. He swallowed his sad thoughts. It was too late for regrets.

All right, Casey said. She sat on her haunches after taking her fill of water. Let’s hear it, pop.

Marcus sat wearily on the damp ground knowing in his aching heart that his feisty daughter wasn’t going to like it one bit. He couldn’t fault her and once again he blamed himself that Hunter was in danger, maybe dead. If only his wife, Maisie was still alive, but wishing didn’t make things right. He sighed, wiping his beaded brow with a damp bandanna; he was getting too old for this. Once more he had promised himself and his dead wife that this was going to be the last time. Marcus realized too late that he should have left Hunter home, but the boy was a man and had insisted on coming along. He dreaded telling his daughter the truth. Damnation, he was tired and not feeling very well. Unconsciously, he rubbed his sore arm and let out a big belch.

Damn digestion!

He saw Casey’s beautiful face. It undulated before him and he blinked seeing his Maisie sitting by his side. How beautiful she was. How he missed touching the long blonde hair that had a texture like woven silk. Her soft topaz eyes held so much love for him; she could see no wrong with them. Oh, how he loved her.

Maisie, he gasped and tried to fill his lungs with the air they begged for.