Her thoughts flew. Since he did not know where the house was she could mark time at least. They were close to a corner. She turned to the right.
“This way,” she said, and led him away from the house where Scot was lying in bed.
He shuffled beside her, still holding fast to her wrist. His presence was repugnant to her. The touch of his flesh made hers creep.
“You’re hurting me. Why don’t you let me go? I’ll not run away,” she promised.
“I know you’ll not—if you don’t git a chance, sweetie.” His fangs showed again in an evil grin. “If I hurt you some it ain’t a circumstance to the way you hurt me onct. I ain’t aimin’ to let you play me no tricks like you done then.”
They came to a house, set a little back from the road in a young orchard. Victoria opened the gate and they walked in. Her brain had registered an inspiration. Straight to the porch she went.
Dutch warned her. “Remember. No tricks, missie. You lead right into the room where he is an’ don’t say a word. Un’erstand?”
“Yes. You’ll promise not to hurt him?”
“My business. I got an account to settle with both them McClintocks.”
“At any rate, you won’t hurt anybody else in the house,” she said faintly. “You’ve got to promise that.”