Chapter Sixteen: The Cabin
Abel reported seeing Curtis ride toward the old hunting cabin in the north orchard.
Isaiah and Gideon reached the cabin as the sun dropped behind the ridge.
They approached from the rear, where the ground was covered in dry needles.
The door stood partly open.
A horse was tied to a tree nearby.
Isaiah recognized Curtis’s saddle.
He signaled Gideon to remain behind the woodpile.
Inside, a man was speaking in a strained voice.
“I have given you what you asked for.”
Curtis answered.
“You have given me a machine that breaks.”
“Because you changed the measurements.”
Isaiah recognized Thomas Fenwick’s voice from the workshop years earlier.
He stepped closer to the window.
Thomas sat on a stool with one leg bandaged.
His beard had grown long,
and his coat hung loosely from his shoulders.
Curtis stood beside a table holding the broken wooden tooth.
“You will tell Price that Whitcomb owns the invention,” Curtis said.
Thomas shook his head.
“No.”
Curtis leaned over him.
“Your wife will suffer if you refuse.”
“She is free.”
Curtis froze.
“What?”
“Someone told me she was taken to town.”
Curtis looked toward the door.
Isaiah realized that the man had heard rumors but did not know how much had changed.
He stepped into the doorway.
“Mrs. Fenwick is safe.”
Curtis spun around.
“You again.”
Thomas looked up.
“Isaiah?”
Isaiah nodded.
“Mr. Fenwick, can you walk?”
“With help.”
Curtis moved toward the horse outside.
Gideon stepped from behind the woodpile and blocked the path.
Curtis stopped.
“You are children playing at courage.”
Gideon raised the iron hinge.
“I am not a child.”
Isaiah did not move closer.
He knew Curtis was stronger and more desperate than either of them.
“We have people coming,” he said.
Curtis laughed.
“You have nobody.”
A voice sounded from the trees.
“He has me.”
Abel emerged carrying a lantern.
Ruth followed him with two stable hands.
Isaiah stared at her.
“How did you know?”
“Gideon told Esther where you went,” Ruth said.
“Esther told me.”
Curtis looked from one face to another.
He was accustomed to confronting people alone.
Now six people stood between him and the road.
He reached for a small knife at his belt.
Abel lifted the lantern.
“Put it down.”
Curtis hesitated.
Thomas struggled to his feet.
“Mr. Vale, you have already lost.”
Curtis looked toward the horse.
The animal stamped and pulled at its rope.
He dropped the knife into the dirt.
Isaiah exhaled slowly.
He had imagined this moment for weeks, but the sight of Curtis surrendering brought no triumph.
It brought only the urgent knowledge that they had to move Thomas before the cabin became another prison.
Chapter Seventeen: A Witness Who Could Walk
