Page 68 of Needs Must
It was time to act. Cal leapt to his feet at the same time as Tom nudged him and pointed to Miriam, who was trudging her way up the path to the cottage with a loaded basket over her arm. Cal would never have a better opportunity.
He waited until Miriam opened the door, causing the distraction that would cover the sound of Cal bounding up the path behind her and pushing her out of the way.
‘Cal!’
The relief on Donna’s face was obvious. She was held by Harte, who had one arm closed around her throat and the other pinning her arms to her sides. Cal wasn’t surprised to see that he had pushed her in front of him, using her as a shield, just as he had anticipated would be the case.
‘Such a brave man,’ Cal said scathingly. ‘Are you alright?’ he added, fixing Donna with a worried look. She was deathly pale. He ought to have interceded earlier, and he knew that he would always blame himself for the situation she now found herself in if it span out of his control, as seemed likely.
Donna managed a tiny nod. It was all that she could accomplish with a strong arm pinned against her windpipe, almost choking her.
‘Ah, the doxy’s lover rides to the rescue,’ Harte said, sneering at Cal. ‘But too late, one fears. If those letters really are with a lawyer then I shall have to disappear again, I suppose, so I might as well have my revenge.’ He tightened his hold on Donna, who visibly winced.
‘Don’t be so ridiculous!’ Cal spoke with a casualness that he didn’t feel, his expression set in granite. ‘Harm her and you’re a dead man.’
‘She really does inspire the most unlikely of men to the heights of passion without even realising what power she wields,’ Harte replied, sounding perplexed. ‘I speak from experience, of course.’
It was stalemate, the atmosphere as tense as the unstable man’s rant. Harte really would kill Donna, Cal sensed, if only out of a sense of injured pride. It was clear that he wanted her himself and always had, and that she had refused to even look at him. Now he had her, quite literally, at his mercy and wouldn’t relent. He also knew that Cal couldn’t risk attacking him without risking Donna’s life and that he would never do.
‘Back off!’ Harte said in a threatening tone. ‘Back off or Donna will bear the consequences.’
Donna looked frantically towards Miriam, as though trying to communicate with her. Whatever message she was attempting to get across, it was clear that Miriam understood. She pushed herself upright from the wall against which she had stumbled when Cal barged her out of harm’s way and moved slowly to one side of the room. Harte followed her movements with a suspicious look, and just as suddenly howled with pain. He released Donna and doubled over, clutching his groin.
‘You evil bitch!’ he cried, hopping about on one foot.
Donna fell into Cal’s arms, sobbing with relief.
‘It’s over, darling,’ he said softly, kissing the top of her head. ‘You’re safe now.’
He walked in front of her, ready to deal with Harte, who was recovering from the blow from an elbow that Donna had delivered to his most sensitive spot. Miriam had provided the distraction, Harte had momentarily relaxed his hold on Donna’s arms, and her quick thinking had done the rest.
With his eyes closed in pain and his back turned, Harte was in no position to see the new threat he now faced. Miriam walked swiftly up to him and brought the rolling pin she had taken from the kitchen drawer down hard upon his unprotected head, laying him out cold before Cal could have the satisfaction of doing so himself.
Chapter Twenty
Donna smiled at Cal as they walked in the woods two days after Ian’s arrest. He had been taken away, swearing blue murder, refusing to reiterate his confession, even when he knew that Cal had heard every word. The weather was still fine and the crisp autumnal air kissed Donna’s face, making her feel alive and unafraid for the first time since Jonathan’s death.
Indeed, since long before that.
‘How do you feel after your ordeal?’ he asked, peering at the bruises on her neck where Ian had attempted to crush her windpipe and scowling.
‘No lasting effects, although I will confess that Ian frightened the life out of me when he appeared.’ Her voice was husky due, no doubt, to Ian’s treatment of her. ‘I wish I had known that you were outside. I had absolutely no way of warning you that he’d arrived, you see, or of preventing Miriam from walking in on us and putting herself in danger.’ She glanced up at him. ‘How did you come to be there, as a matter of interest?’
‘You have young Tom to thank for that. He saw Harte arrive and realised something wasn’t quite right. Jules had men all over the village, looking for strangers and … well, you know how gossip spreads. Everyone knew that a strange man was out to cause you harm, so for once the gossip worked to our advantage. Tom ran like the wind to find me, and I have subsequently been able to tell the magistrate that I overheard Harte’s confession. To both murders. Along with the letters you have in your possession, Harte’s arrogance will prove to be his downfall.’ Cal touched the hand that rested on his arm. ‘You will never be troubled by him again, since he will soon be keeping an appointment with the hangman before he gets much older.’
‘I won’t pretend that I am not relieved. I can now look to the future without fear of being ambushed.’
‘There’s no rush for you to do anything. My understanding is that Harte had not yet spent as much of your husband’s money as you feared, and what is left – which is most of it – will pass to you.’
Donna nodded. ‘Yes, I know, but even so, it’s time to move on.’
‘Move on?’ He stopped walking and looked down at her in evident confusion. ‘Does Denmead Cottage no longer suit your needs now that you can afford better?’
‘It isn’t that.’
‘Then what is it? You can live comfortably on your inheritance if you invest the capital wisely, which I am sure you will.’
‘No, Cal, it isn’t that. I like the cottage and I am grateful that I no longer need to seek a position.’ She glanced down at the rainbow of leaves beneath her feet, wondering how to put her feelings into words. ‘My short residence in Arndale has caused quite a stir.’
