Chapter 1

Jock, for he was Jock today, was a big man, a very large man. In the few visits and weekends he had spent there, many of the women had noticed him. He became the fantasy lover of girls, young and old alike. Even some married women would imagine him taking them to bed.

There was only one lass he had an interest in though. Her father was paying him a 'pretty penny' to return her to him, to return her safely. A firebrand preacher had seduced her away from the only home she had ever known. Her father cared little on how, where or what was to be done to get her back, but he wanted to ensure the preacher was made to pay for his new acquisition. Jock was more than happy to make him pay.

He considered that such revenge was a 'dish best savored cold'. There would be no emotion, no involvement, directly, but the preacher would never again be a bother. The man would be his own ruin.

Jock had planned for this several weeks now. He arrived on a Friday night, took a room at the same inn and always had dinner at 1 or 2 local pubs. On Sunday he would go, no one knew where, but when he would return the next week, one woman or another swore he had spent those missing days with her. It became quite the gossip around town.

Christa, by this time was becoming aware she was there for only one thing, and that he was getting tired of her. She had heard him commenting to one of the Elders that he needed some fresh meat and to find a new bed for Crista before getting rid of her body. The preacher was, if anything, a very methodical man.

Sunday morning when she went out to the privy, a hand was covering her small mouth, and a raspy voice said, "Your father has not forgotten you lass. I will take you back, if you want. Perhaps I have been mistaken, perhaps that man inside is everything you desire, or deserve; if so I will take my leave."

Soon young Christa was pulling his hand, leading him away as fast as she could run. Jock had to laugh. All of them were so quick to listen to and run away with the new lover, but in time could only hope they might find their way back home. A few of them, he had to admit, never made it back. He could or would not keep them, but usually found gold was a kinder bed than the warm one they provided.

Christa's father had paid what Jock had asked for. In doing so, she would be returned, in the same condition she was in when he would rescue her. He had few rules and even less morals but he was a man of his word. It was only those misers, those who lied and tried to break the deals they made who he would make sorry. Jacob not only met his price but paid in advance.

He would take some pleasure in seeing to it that the preacher would dearly pay for his lusts. Perhaps that entire congregation.

By Sunday's eve, He and Christa were safe. Away in another town by the river. They had ridden three exchanges of horse and a final carriage ride. Jock knew that even if a trail had been found, no one would imagine a 'lady' would ride a horse, not through this country. Jock had also set several 'Red Herrings' for the preacher to find. By that evening five elders were suspect, he had not given the girl to any of then, and Hellfire and Brimstone would not be the only punishment the man would receive when he found out who it was.