She needed to talk to him, but he hadn’t come around. It was almost as if he were avoiding her. This could be her only chance.
As the auto came closer, she turned, stepped off the boardwalk in front of him, and held up her hand. The brakes squealed as he stopped.
“Good Lord, Gerda, I could have hit you!” She could see his frustrated expression through the dusty windscreen.
She gave him her sweetest smile. “Hello, Mason. Fancy meeting you here. I hope you don’t mind giving me a ride. We need to talk.”
“Yes, I suppose we do.” With the engine running, he went around the auto, opened the passenger door, and brushed the dust off the leather seat. “You know, it might not be good for either of us to be seen together.”
“Then let’s go someplace where we won’t be seen.”
“All right, for a few minutes. Then I’ll be bringing you back.”
He helped her into the auto, closed the door, and went around to the driver’s seat. The dust that rose from under the wheels trailed behind them as they headed south, out of town, in the direction of his ranch.
At first Gerda thought he might be taking her to his home. But he turned west onto a narrow side road that ran along the top of a low earthen dike edging a patch of bogland. Fed by foul-smelling water that seeped from the ground, the bog covered three acres of willows, cattails, and sedges. Here and there, the skeleton of a dead tree rose above water where frogs laid strings of eggs that hatched into tadpoles. Red-winged blackbirds flitted and called among the cattails. Mosquitoes filled the air with their high-pitched buzzing. Gerda felt one bite her arm as Mason halted the auto on the road and turned off the engine that had drowned out any conversation. In the silence, Gerda could hear the chirr of insects and the croaking of frogs.
By now, the sun had set. The sky was deepening swiftly into dusk. Mason turned partway in the seat to face her. “All right, Gerda. You wanted to talk. I’m all yours.”
Gerda fidgeted with her hands, wishing she’d prepared better. “Kristin told me she spoke to you.”
“Yes, she did. And what did I say?”
“You said that my baby wasn’t yours. But she didn’t believe you. Nobody will believe you. So, you might as well marry me. That’s what your brother did. He married my sister, even though the baby wasn’t his. And now, look at them. They have a beautiful family.”
Mason shook his head. “So you had this all figured out, didn’t you? Get me between your legs, make me believe the baby’s mine, and force me to do the right thing. Except it didn’t work, did it?”
Hot-faced, she shook her head. “But it still could. You need a wife. I can cook and sew and keep house. And I’m pretty. Even you told me that.”
“Then find a man who’s looking for a wife, Gerda. What about the real father of your baby? What’s the story? Is he already married?”
She shook her head. “I’ve been telling my family that the father is you.”
“Well, tell them anything you want. It won’t make any difference. I’m not cut out to be a husband or a father. I like my freedom, and I mean to keep it.”
“Try saying that to my father.”
Mason’s expression darkened. “The last time your father tried to bully me, he ended up in jail. If he comes near me again, I’ll have him arrested.”
“I thought you loved me!” Gerda started to cry, deep, broken sobs and copious tears. “What am I going to do if you don’t marry me? I’ll be ruined. And when people find out, you’ll be in trouble too. You can’t arrest the whole town!”
For the first time, Mason sounded angry. “I don’t give a damn what this one-horse town thinks of me—or you. If you can’t stand the disgrace, find someplace to go, like a young mother’s home. Leave the baby there and come back as pure and sweet as when you left.”
“No.” Gerda could be stubborn, too, when she chose. “I’m staying right here. And if I go down, Mason Dollarhide, I’m taking you with me.”
“I don’t like threats.” His voice had dropped to a menacing growl. “Not even from pretty women.”
Something in his tone and manner frightened her. She’d never believed Mason capable of hurting her physically. But he was a strong man, and she’d become an inconvenience. He was capable of killing her with his bare hands and dumping her body in the bog where nobody would find it.
Her fingers groped for the door handle. Finding it, she half tumbled out onto the edge of the road, righted herself, and took off running—not back the way they’d come, but following the road farther along the dike.
“Gerda! Come back here, you little fool!”
Gerda kept running. Even in a dress, she was fleet of foot. But her pregnancy had sapped her endurance. Her sides were already throbbing. She paused, losing precious seconds to catch her breath. Was he running after her? At first, she couldn’t tell, but then she heard the pounding of rapid footfalls behind her. He was coming fast, gaining on her. Her only chance was to hide.
By now, it was dark, the moon still unrisen behind the mountains. She veered off the road, not to the left of the dike, into the bog, but to the right, into a neglected field where tangled weeds and grass grew to the level of the road.
As Gerda stepped off the dike, she realized too late that the weeds were tall, growing hip high from the solid ground beneath. She tumbled forward and plunged straight down. The distance wasn’t far, and the weeds cushioned her fall. Still, she landed hard enough to hurt.
Stunned, she lay still as Mason called to her.
“Gerda! For God’s sake, come back here. I don’t know what you’re thinking, but all I want is to see you safely home.”
His voice sounded close, almost directly above her. But she had landed in the shadow of the dike. From where he stood, he couldn’t see her. She lay still, hearing his voice grow faint as he hunted her down the road. Then as he came to the end and turned around, she could hear him clearly once more.
“Listen to me, Gerda. I didn’t mean to scare you. If I don’t see you by the time I get back to the auto, I’m going for help. Don’t be afraid. I’ll be back.”
Gerda lay still until she heard the engine crank and start up. Only as the sound died away did she struggle to her feet. She felt vaguely sick. Her hands and the front of her dress were covered with burrs and stickers.
The moon had come up in the east. She could see her way now, but she had no good place to go. From this side, the dike was too steep for her to climb up. She would have to forge her way through the tall weeds to get back to the main road.
She took a moment to clear the stickers from her hands. Then she began pushing forward through the tangle. It was hard going—so hard that she began to rethink her reason for running away from Mason. Maybe he hadn’t meant to hurt her. Maybe she should’ve answered when he came looking for her. But it was too late to change that now.
She’d scarcely covered a dozen yards when the pain struck, like a giant fist clutching her body below the waist, clawing and twisting. With a cry, she doubled over and felt a gush of fluid down her legs. She reached under her skirt. Her hand came away bloodied.
As another pain seized her, she dropped to her knees. “No!” she gasped. “Please, God, no!”