“This girl’s really gotten under your skin,” he said.
It wasn’t what Ernest had expected to fall from his friend’s mouth. Honestly, he’d expected another lecture about how she’s not his woman and that after this, he needed to stay well clear of her. They weren’t thoughts that hadn’t already gone through Ernest’s own mind before.
“In all the years I’ve known you, I ain’t never seen you get so caught up in a woman like this, Ernest,” he said. “Never.”
Ernest looked over at him, his expression rueful. “I ain’t never let myself get this caught up in a woman before,” he said. “But she’s a special, special woman.”
“I can see that,” he replied. “Just remember what I said. She’s not yours.”
“How can I forget?” Ernest frowned. “Especially when you keep reminding me.”
They reined their horses to a stop and climbed down. Richard’s ranch hand Sonny hurried over and took the reins from them, looking at them both anxiously.
“Mr. Arnolds ain’t here,” he said without prompting. “Said he’s gone to fetch Miss Adeline.”
“Did he now?” Milton asked. “And where was he goin’, Sonny?”
The man shook his head. “Don’t rightly know. Mr. Arnolds didn’t say,” he said. “I’m just glad he’ll be bringin’ her home.”
The door to the main house opened and Tillie stepped out onto the porch, wiping her hands on a cloth. She looked down at the both of them appraisingly, but Ernest felt like her eyes lingered on him for a beat or two longer. Her face though, was expressionless and he couldn’t guess as to what she was thinking. Though as he looked into her eyes, he got the idea that she knew about his dalliances with Adeline. Sonny departed, taking their horses to the barn with him for some water and a brush.
“Well, don’t stand down there gawkin’ at me all day,” Tillie said. “Get on up here.”
Ernest flashed Milton a small grin and motioned for him to go first. He’d always liked Tillie. She was a woman unafraid to speak her mind and tell it like she saw it. He appreciated that in people. He didn’t like having to dig through their words like a prospector looking for gold to understand the true meaning behind what they said.
That was one reason he never got along real well with the monied elite of Talon Peaks – those people couldn’t speak plainly or honestly if their very lives depended upon it. The meanings of their words were always wrapped up in clouds of mystery, double meanings, and deception.
Ernest mounted the steps behind Milton and walked into the house, both of them removing their hats as they entered. Tillie shut the door behind them then led them to the kitchen and motioned for them to take a seat at the table.
“Take a seat, y’all,” she ordered.
He and Milton did as they were told and a few moments later, Tillie joined them at the small round table by the window.
“So, since you both know Mr. Arnolds ain’t here and you didn’t go ridin’ off anyway,” Tillie started, “I assume you’re herefor either my charmin’ company or because you’re hopin’ to get me flappin’ my lips.”
“Well, it started off as the latter,” Ernest said, “but it’s turned into a delightful combination of both of those things.”
Tillie let out a sharp bark of laughter and shook her head. “Don’t you be sassin’ me, Ernest Wallace,” she said. “You ain’t so old I can’t still turn you over my knee.”
“I believe that.”
Milton’s expression grew a bit more solemn. “We did want to talk to you about Adeline’s disappearance, Tillie.”
“I’ll tell you right now, I ain’tgonna say a bad thing about Mr. Arnolds,” she declared. “He been nothin’ but good to me and –”
“We’re not asking you to slander his good name,” Ernest piped in. “We’ve just had – questions.”
“Questions ‘bout what?” she asked.
Milton opened his mouth to speak but Ernest cut him off. “Do you think Richard might have had anything to do with Adeline’s disappearance?”
“Ernest,” Milton scolded him. “You just said –”
“I know what I said and I’m not asking her to slander him,” Ernest argued. “I’m just asking if it’s possible he was involved for whatever reason. A prank perhaps.”
She stared at him blankly for a moment and then chewed on her bottom lip. Tillie shifted in her seat and looked distinctly uncomfortable. Ernest took it to mean that she’d had thoughts along similar lines.
“I – if you’re askin’ me if I think Mr. Arnolds did somethin’ to hurt that poor girl then no,” she said. “He cares for her in his own way and wouldn’t never raise a hand to her.”
Milton nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer but Ernest looked from him to Tillie who refused to meet his eyes and decided to press the case.
“That didn’t exactly answer my question though,” he said.
“Ernest, she –”
“I dunno what happened to her,” Tillie said. “But I gotta be honest and say Mr. Arnolds has been actin’ a little squirrely lately.”
That got Milton’s attention. “Squirrely? How exactly?”
She shook her head. “Can’t say exactly. I just known him a lot of years now and can read his moods better than the weather,” she said. “He’s just been – anxious. Nervous. I dunno. Can’t really explain it better than that.”
“Could it maybe be his concern for Adeline’s safety?” Milton asked.
She shook her head again. “Started actin’ squirrely before she got took,” she said. “I just thought maybe he was havin’ business trouble or somethin’ but…”
Her voice trailed off and Ernest and Milton exchanged glances. He knew it could very well be nothing and maybe it was all business related. But something in Ernest told him there was more to it than that. He hated pressing Tillie who already looked downright miserable as she treaded perilously close to that line of saying something against Richard, or something that might get him into trouble, but he had to know.
“But what, Tillie?” Milton urged.
“Please,” Ernest added. “Adeline’s life very well may be at stake here.”
She sighed and her shoulders slumped. Ernest knew that Tillie cared for Richard and would never want to do anything to hurt him. But he knew she also cared a great deal for Adeline and would do anything in her power to protect her. Ernest thought it was a hell of a spot to be caught between, the proverbial rock and the hard place.
“Little while back, I saw him meetin’ with somebody out behind the barn. I was hangin’ up the wash and happened to see ‘em back there,” she said. “They wastalkin’ and it looked kinda heated to me.”
“Heated?” Milton asked.
She shrugged. “The way they was gesturin’ and all, it seemed to be pretty tense.”
“Who was the other man?” Ernest asked.
She shook her head. “Can’t rightly say,” she said. “Never seen him around here before. When I seen ‘em, I thought it was somebody tryin’ to convince Mr. Arnolds to hire him on or somethin’. We get people like that driftin’ through now and then. I didn’t really think nothin’ of it at the time.”
“Can you describe him?” Milton pressed.
“I’m sorry but I didn’t see him too good,” she said. “I had my own chores to do so I didn’t pay‘em much mind.”
She started to sound a little defensive, as if Milton was accusing her of doing something wrong. Ernest knew it stemmed from her desire to help Adeline any way she could and being frustrated she couldn’t do more. He saw tears welling in her eyes so he reached out and took her hand, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze.
“You’re doin’ great, Tillie,” he said softly. “What you’re tellin’ us is real helpful.”
She angrily wiped away the tears that spilled down her cheeks. “I love that girl,” she said quietly. “If anythin’ happened to her and I –”
“Hey, listen to me,” Ernest said firmly. “You had no idea she wa
s gonna be taken. None of us did. This is not your fault, Tillie. The only one who deserves blame is the one who took her.”
She sniffed loudly and nodded. “I just don’t know why you two lookin’ at Mr. Arnolds so hard,” she said. “Why on God’s green Earth would he want to snatch up his own fiancée? It don’t make no sense.”
“We’re not saying he snatched her up,” Milton assured her. “We just think there are some things he’s not telling us and it’s led to some questions.”
“There was a telegram he received,” Ernest cut in. “I don’t know exactly what was in it – Richard told me it had to do with a ransom demand – but I’d like to verify it for myself. Put the questions in my head to rest once and for all.”
“A telegram?” she asked.
Ernest nodded. “Yeah,” he replied. “Have you seen one?”
She cocked her head and pursed her lips. “Not sure. But if he got one and ain’t thrown it out yet, it’d be on the desk in his office.”
“Great,” Milton said. “Do you think you could take a look and see if he still has it?”
She hesitated for a moment knowing if she did this, it’s possible she could very well be causing trouble for Richard. But she also seemed to know she could be leading them to answers about Adeline and potentially, her safe return. When she got to her feet without a word and dashed off in the direction of Richard’s office, Ernest knew where her true loyalties lay.
“She’s a good woman,” he said and Milton agreed.
They waited in silence for a few minutes, both of them sipping their coffee, consumed by their thoughts. For Ernest, it was thoughts of Adeline and worry about what indignities – or worse – that flashed through his mind. He wished he knew where she was being kept or what was happening to her. And he swore to himself that if whoever had her had harmed so much as a single hair on her head, he would make that man pay. And pay dearly.
Tillie returned holding the telegram and handed it to Milton. He scanned the words and then gave it to Ernest. He read the message that had been sent to Richard.
Your lady fair is with me and having the time of her life. Time to pay up. In gold. Fifty pounds of it.The old Stocker farmhouse. ~ H.F.
“H.F. – Horace Ford. So it was Shotgun Ford who took her,” Ernest said. “You know where the Stocker farmhouse is?”
“Looks that Shotgun is our man. And no, I’m afraid I don’t know where the Stocker farmhouse is,” Milton said. “But this telegraph is proof that Richard was not involved.”
Ernest didn’t think it was proof of that at all but he bit his tongue, not wanting to say anything in front of Tillie. He thought that would be a conversation better had in private with Milton.
“Tillie, do you happen to know where Richard went?” Ernest asked.
She shook her head. “’fraid not,” she said. “He was gone early.Didn’t even take breakfast ‘fore he rode out.”
Ernest glanced over at Milton who was looking at him with a curious expression on his face. Milton knew him well enough to know he had something on his mind but also knew that he’d tell him when the time was right.
“Tillie,” Ernest went on. “Did you see what direction he rode in?”
“East,” she said. “He headed east.”
Ernest gave Milton a nod. He had what they needed. They got to their feet and Tillie followed suit, leading them back to the door, and held it open for them.
“Thank you, Tillie,” Ernest said. “You’ve been more helpful than you know.”
She grabbed hold of Ernest’s hand and squeezed it tight. Tears stood in her eyes, making them shine and her lips trembled.
“Bring her home,” she whispered. “You make sure you bring her home.”
“We’ll do our best, Tillie,” Milton answered. “I promise.”
Ernest gave her a firm nod and then he and Milton headed down the steps. Sonny brought their horses freshly watered and saddled to them and Milton gave him a word of thanks. He and Ernest mounted up and trotted back up the road that led away from Richard’s house.
“So, what’s going through your head?” Milton asked when they were well away from the house and out of earshot.
“I can’t get my mind off this mystery drifter who showed up at Richard’s place,” he replied. “Kind of convenient that after his conversation with Richard, Adeline goes missing isn’t it?”
“Damn convenient,” Milton replied. “Seems to me that Shotgun got a good look at Adeline and decided Richard could give him the kinda payday he wanted.”
“Maybe,” he said. “But why the conversation? What did they have to say to each other?”
“Maybe he really was looking for some work,” Milton offered.
“When was the last time Shotgun Ford did an honest day’s work?”
They rode on in silence for a few minutes as Ernest tried to pull all the disparate strings of his theory into one coherent narrative while Milton tried to make sense of it all and compose his own thoughts. Finally, Ernest looked over at him and he saw a look of dark confusion on his face, as if he was having trouble believing what he was thinking.
But then he shook his head. “Richard is a good man. There is no way in hell he’d get mixed up with somebody like Shotgun.”
“Maybe not. I don’t know for sure,” Ernest said. “Maybe this really is one big coincidence and I’m seein’ shadows that ain’t really there.”
“And maybe the man Tillie saw Richard talking to really was just a drifter.”
“Sure. It’s entirely possible,” Ernest said. “But tell me something. There was no location given on that telegram, so how did Richard know where to go to meet Ford?”
“It’s a good question,” Milton replied.
“There are a lot of good questions,” Ernest said. “Seems to me there’s only one way to get some answers.”
“Ride east?” Milton said dryly. “And hope we find the Stocker farmhouse.
Ernest nodded. “Ride east and find the Stocker farmhouse.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
She came to with the smell of hay and must assaulting her senses. Adeline opened her eyes and groaned as she looked around, immediately recognizing her surroundings.
“Great,” she muttered to herself. “Back in the barn.”
A thick fog clouded her vision and muddled her mind. She felt like she was waking up after a night of too much drink. Adeline took several long, deep breaths and let them out slowly. She blew away some of the fog in her head and after a few moments, the memories came back to her.
She remembered that after he’d discovered her in the forest, Horace had bound her hands before her and then covered her nose with a white rag that had a vaguely but cloyingly sweet scent to it. After that, everything was a blank until she’d woken up in the barn
There was something on that rag obviously. But what was it?
Sharp beams of the sun streamed in through the crumbling roof overhead and motes of dust danced in the light. She was exhausted and her body ached from the tip of her toes to the top of her head and everywhere in between. All the running and falling the last couple of days had taken an extreme physical toll on her. Not to mention the mental and emotional toll being Horace Ford’s prisoner – again – was having on her.
And as if on cue, the sound of chains rattling was preceded by the door being thrown open. The sudden flood of sunlight was harsh on her eyes, making her squint and turn away. His harsh laughter echoed around the barn, raising goosebumps on her flesh.
“You got some real fire in you, little girl,” he said.
Adeline groaned as she sat up and tried to stretch some of the stiffness out of her muscles. Horace walked over and tossed a bowl down into the hay at her feet and a waterskin beside that. Despite not wanting to acknowledge Horace’s presence in any way, her stomach rumbled. She couldn’t deny being hungry.
Her hands were free this time but when she moved her leg, she discovered why. A heavy chain was wrapped around a sturdy, thick wooden beam
and locked to it. The other end of the chain was attached to the thick metal shackled attached to her ankle. Adeline sighed. She was not going anywhere.
“Better get some food in your belly, darlin’,” she said. “You got a long day ahead of you.”
“A long day of what? Sitting on this pile of hay?”
The Cowboy's Stolen Bride (Historical Western Romance) Page 24