A Cold Wife, Sweet Husband

Whoever was driving the buggy wasn't Franklin, and it was up to her to find out who it was. She slowly opened the door. Using the box for support, she stepped upon it so she could get a good look at the driver.

She held onto the door with one hand and the side of the stagecoach with her other hand. From the angle she was at, she got a decent look at the driver. He had on a long brown trench coat, a scarf and a hat, so she couldn't tell who it was. She knew it wasn't Franklin because this man had a different slouch when he sat.

She stepped off the box and slowly closed the door. Someone rode off with her and Ryan at the same time the Monroe Investing Firm got broken into. She didn't make it a habit of reading mystery novels but it didn't take a genius to deduce that the two events went hand in hand. Whoever was driving the stagecoach wanted her safely out of the way...and to make sure Leo couldn't stop him.

She glanced at Ryan who had woken up and was looking up at her. If it had just been her, she would have felt better. Not that this situation was pleasant. It was profoundly disturbing, but knowing that Ryan depended on her for his safety made it terrifying.

She opened the box and searched for anything that she might be able to use as a weapon. She saw the wooden walker that Mr. Walker specifically made for Ryan, which would accommodate his limp. She also saw toys and clothes.

The walker was the only suitable thing she could use. As much as she hated to destroy it, she stepped on the bottom of it and pulled the top off. It took all of her strength to do, but she managed to tear the thing into three pieces.

One-piece was big and heavy enough to use as a club. She noticed that it had a long thick nail sticking out of it. She glanced uneasily at Ryan who stared at her. She knelt by him and softly said,

―I need you to stay here. Don't move. He kept staring at her. She said a quick prayer that the boy wouldn't leave the moving stagecoach and slowly opened the door again. This time she put her foot on the step she usually used to get into and out of the stagecoach.

One hand gripped the wooden club and the other hand remained on the door. She made sure Ryan was still seated before she took a step on the box. They were on a vacant path that was out of town and surrounded by trees. It was too late to cry out for help. She would have to figure out a way to save herself and the boy. She needed to get to the top of the stagecoach.

She put her foot on the door handle but the door flung wide open. She grabbed the side of the open window with her hand. Her foot was shaking by the time she returned it to the step she was standing on.

Had her other foot not been firmly planted on that step, she was sure she would have fallen out. Ryan called out to her. His name for her was - Jessi but soon enough it would change to ―Ma...if she lived that long...and if he lived that long.