Catherine Randolph hides from the resort hunters as well as her own evil-kidnappers from Charleston. Her friends command that she hide under a heavy, hot, tarp and try to breathe.
She hated it, but she went. She hated fleeing like a fugitive, but she valued her life and respected her friends, the Garretts. She hated their order, the necessity of it, and her fear.
The day was unusually beautiful for fall and wasting it under a heavy and smelly canvas wouldn’t be fun. She gave a moment’s thought to running, again, fleeing into the woods and swamps surrounding the lake. Maybe she could find a secluded spot for a swim. It was warm enough, but the voices sent her running to the wagon.
She crawled under the tarp, took a deep clean breath, pulled it back down over her and she listened.
“Mercer, who were they? Who were those dirty ruffians? Were they actually hunting for bear? They sure didn’t look like your typical clientele.”
“Bear? No, not at all. Much to my surprise they were hunting all right, but for a woman.” Mercer’s mean laughter sounded ugly and felt painful. It drowned out the clanging serving dishes and other conversations. “I told them about our hired camp-ladies, but it would cost them double since our numbers are low. They’d some upbringing though, since they thanked me. They did go on to describe that cute little one we found in the kitchen last night.” He turned to the Garretts, “Hey, where’s that pretty little thing you brought with you this season? Did you leave her back at the lake, at the main camp kitchen?”
Catherine froze. She knew the Garretts hated to lie. “Not real sure where’s she gone, Mr. Mercer, sir.”
“That’s fine. We’ll find her or those four we met out on the hunt will beat us to her.” Mercer sneered, “I’d hate to see her when they finish. There’s no fancy private hotel in her future.”
Catherine tasted her salty tears as they landed on her lips. Her time of safety with the Garretts was over. She needed to move on, she needed to run, and she needed a plan to return to Charleston. Her immediate need was some fresh air to breathe.
Mercer turned to Trevor. “Hell, Coffman, you had her last. Would you say she was worth hunting for? Do you want her again?”
The sound of Trevor’s stable British accent calmed her like a fresh lake breeze. “Mr. Mercer, I came for a trophy for my library. I doubt that she’d suffice. Truly sir, I came to hunt for your famous southern black bear.” She imagined him turning his back and suitably ending the discussion. No additional British accents were heard, just dishes, silverware, the liquid flowing into goblets, and Mercer’s continued evilness.
“I don’t know, Coffman, her head would look great in many places.” Catherine physically shuddered at Mercer’s raunchy comment.
She sweated for nearly an hour listening for clues, locations, and appropriate times for escape. Gradually the clues added up and she sensed that the hunters had finished their their lunch and moved off. One of them had the gall to relieve himself on the wagon wheel. She smelled his urine and heard his sigh of pleasure.
Her legs and arms began to cramp just as the Garretts pulled up the tarp and provided crisp and appreciated oxygen. “They’ve gone, but stay down on the far side just in case one of them wanders back.”
Catherine slowly moved her pins-and-needled limbs over the side. “I’ll carefully head back, and I’ll stick to the side of the road.”
Joann gently held her face. “Be oh so very careful, girl.” She pulled her into a motherly hug. “Listen for the men and hide in the bushes if you must. We’ll find you on the way back.”
Egad and Enough! For Now
Eleanor Tatum 
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