by Cahill, Cat
Ben shook his head, thinking of Penny’s mother, all alone in Wilmington receiving such a message. “Wait. Please. Let me try to retrieve her first. If I don’t succeed, then send the message.”
Mr. McFarland nodded before leading the ladies back inside, talking about Mr. Gilbert and how he’d likely want to send Pinkertons.
Ben clenched his fists, grimacing at the pain in his right hand. The last thing he needed right now was a bunch of detectives running around and making things worse. “We need to get them back. Both of them. Today,” he said to Harry and the others.
“You’ve got it, Boss,” Harry said, straightening his hat. “Let’s get on the road.”
They had a day’s ride south to hatch a plan. And Ben’s mind was already whirring the moment he saddled his horse.
Chapter Twenty-four
When the men had finally let her off the horse, hours later as the sun rose, Penny’s legs buckled beneath her.
The men laughed, and the bigger one with the black beard caught her arm before she collapsed. Although she was thankful, she was hardly about to say so to a man who’d kidnapped her.
He led her to a sturdy tree, where he tried to get her to sit down on one of the saddle blankets. Penny glared at him. She refused to do anything these men wanted her to do, even if sitting on solid ground sounded marvelous at that moment.
“Sit, or we’ll forget to give you breakfast.” He pulled on her arm again.
With a glare that she hoped caused him injury, Penny gave in. But instead of starting a fire, the smaller man opened one of the saddlebags and drew out a tin filled with hardtack. Wordlessly, he passed the tin to Penny. It was hard to open with her hands nearly frozen and still tied together, but after a moment she managed to pry the lid off. She took a piece of the stuff and placed it into her mouth. It was too tough to chew. She’d never eaten it before, but her father had written of it in his letters from the war when she was a little girl. Now, as it sat in her mouth, she was inclined to agree with him—the stuff was awful. But her stomach growled, so she kept at it.
The larger man led the horses to a nearby stream that was only half frozen while the smaller one leaned against a tree trunk and kept his eyes on Penny. “Hagan wanted you real bad,” he said after several minutes.
Penny nearly choked on her hardtack. “What do you mean?” she finally asked.
The man shrugged. “After Rogers saw you down by the creek last week, it’s all Hagan talked about.”
Penny didn’t reply. Hagan had threatened to find her, after all. And Ben had been right. Hagan had decided two women were worth more than one. Everyone knew the Gilbert Company was prosperous, which was likely why he’d ordered his men to take her. He must’ve found out she worked at the hotel, somehow. And although Ben hadn’t said as much, she suspected his family back in San Francisco was well-off. Hagan had probably learned this from Adelaide. Hagan stood to become quite rich now that he had both her and Ben’s sister.
Adelaide. She should try to learn more, find out where they were keeping her, just in case she was able to get away before they arrived to wherever it was they were going. It was better than sitting here in fear. “Is Miss Young well?” She tried to make it sound conversational.
The man snorted and opened a sack of tobacco he’d withdrawn from his pocket. “Well as a viper.”
Penny smiled. She’d hoped as much. “I imagine she despises that dirty old cabin.”
His cheek now filled with tobacco, the man looked at her, confused.
Ah, so they weren’t in a cabin this time. “What I mean is that she’s used to a fine home, well-kept, with running water and such.”
He nodded and chewed but didn’t offer any other information.
Penny sighed and leaned back against the tree. “What does Hagan want with me?” She was certain it was money, but talking helped her not to dwell on the helplessness of her situation.
“Ain’t something he told me,” the man said. He spat, and Penny tried not to curl her lip. A lot of the boys she’d known back home had chewed tobacco, and she’d always thought it a filthy habit. “I just do what I’m told.”
“So you think it’s fine to go around snatching women and carting them off into the mountains?” Penny couldn’t keep the irritation from her voice. It was past dawn now, she hadn’t slept, and she was terrified. The least this man could do was explain himself.
He leveled his gaze at her. “For the right price I do.”
The words chilled her. For as harmless as this man seemed, he was driven by greed. And greed made people do awful things. Penny shivered and tucked her hands under the edge of her coat. More than anything, she wanted to get away from here. But even if she could somehow overpower the man across from her with her hands tied, she wouldn’t get far on foot if they were on horseback.
She should keep the man talking, try to find out what else he’d tell her. But she couldn’t think of anything to say. Judging from the position of the sun, breakfast at the hotel was well underway. Surely, someone had discovered she was missing by now. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine Ben’s reaction. He’d been so distant with her. Was he distraught to find her gone? Or—her heart ached at the thought—was he relieved? He’d made her believe he cared for her, but then he’d acted so cold that evening in the garden. Perhaps having her gone made it easier for him. Now he wouldn’t have to tell her he wasn’t interested. He may even blame her for getting herself kidnapped. After all, she’d been too headstrong for his liking.
No. No, no, no, no. Her mind was getting away from her. She couldn’t think like that. Ben wouldn’t believe such things about her. Would he? He’d called her too brash for her own good. Perhaps he thought she’d gotten herself kidnapped on purpose as part of her plan? Or, even worse, she’d given up everything and ridden off with these men because she was that sort of woman.
Penny’s nails dug into her frozen hands. Her imagination was getting the best of her. Ben knew who she was. Didn’t he? All those things he’d said to her couldn’t have been lies. But there was no denying his behavior had changed over the past few days. He doubted her. Maybe he doubted everything about her. He was trying to let her down easy, and she was a fool to think otherwise.
Tears stung her eyes. She’d been taken for a fool back home. It wouldn’t happen again. Ben could believe what he wanted about her, but she wouldn’t throw herself at his feet.
If Penny had learned one thing from her ruined reputation at home, it was pride.
Chapter Twenty-five
“Boss, we need to stop. Just for a few minutes,” Harry called from behind Ben.
Ben slowed his horse but didn’t come to a halt. They’d been following the trail left by Penny and her captors—two of them, if Ben was reading the tracks right—for hours. Then, about fifteen minutes ago, the trail had gone cold. He’d traveled up and down a half-frozen stream and found no sign of hoofprints leaving the water. Desperate, he’d plunged forward with his men, with no real sense of whether they were on the trail or not.
“We can’t. Every second we take, they get farther away.”
“We don’t know if we’re on the right trail,” Harry said. “You’re being foolhardy.”
Ben glared at him.
“You heard me.” Harry turned in his saddle. “Boys, we’re stopping here for a few minutes.”
“We’re not stopping,” Ben called out. “Keep riding.”
Harry reined up his horse. “You keep on riding alone, then. The boys and I are taking a break. We need to make a plan. Wandering aimlessly through the mountains will get us nowhere.”
The other men pulled up alongside Harry. Ben circled his horse around. If they’d been on a ship, this would be called mutiny. Here in the mountains of Colorado, it didn’t have a name.
“Listen to him, Ben,” Eli said. “You know us all. You know we wouldn’t give up on you. But Harry’s right. We need a plan.”
Tiller nodded in agreement. They all sat there, in a line on
their horses, a wall between him and where he needed to be. But where did he need to be? Ben’s head spun. They were right. He needed a plan.
“Fine.” Ben leapt from his horse, defeated. He said nothing when Tiller led his horse to the stream.
“Eat.” Harry held out a piece of bread.
Ben chewed it silently. All he could think about was Adelaide and Penny and how he’d failed them both.
“It ain’t your fault,” Harry said, almost as if he was reading Ben’s mind. “I know you think it is.”
“I was supposed to keep them both safe.” No longer hungry, Ben tossed his crust toward a squirrel racing past.
“You did the best you could.”
“I should’ve done better.” And now here he was, responsible for both disappearances and with his judgment so clouded he couldn’t even see straight when it came to searching the right way.
When his parents had sent Adelaide from California, it had been with the expectation that Ben, as the county sheriff, could keep her safe and perhaps even tame her wild ways. She had, apparently, been making a name for herself at home, and not in a good way. Ben had agreed. After all, Cañon City, even though it was in the wilds of Colorado, was really no more dangerous than a large city like San Francisco. He had seen to that when he was elected.
Adelaide had seemed to like it in Cañon City. She’d befriended some of the young ladies in town, and while she still thought nothing of wandering about in the dark, she’d seemed to settle down some. It wasn’t her fault at all that Hagan had decided to make off with her. That fault could be placed squarely on Ben. He should’ve sent her back home. But the truth was, it hadn’t occurred to him how his work—as dangerous as it was at times—could affect anyone he loved or cared for. Hagan had taken Adelaide solely because of her connection to Ben.
And now Penny. That was his fault too. Just the idea of her in Hagan’s grip made it impossible for Ben to see straight. He leaned against a tree and forced himself to breathe. Getting angry would solve nothing right now. He needed to keep his head clear if he hoped to rescue them.
Tiller returned with the horses. Ben took the reins and stroked the horse’s nose as he tried to pinpoint the one thing that didn’t make sense about all of this—how did Hagan know where to find Penny?
She hadn’t been in her Gilbert dress that day by the river near Cañon City. He’d talked to her about what had happened, and she hadn’t mentioned a thing about the hotel or where she lived and worked. They were closer to Cañon City than to the hotel that day, so no logical person would assume she’d come from Crest Stone. And then when they’d set her up as a decoy, there was no way to identify her as a Gilbert Girl. Of course, it made sense that Ben and his men were lodging at the hotel, since it was the only place in the entire valley to stay if they didn’t want to camp out. But how would he know Penny was there?
“Harry.” Ben gestured to his friend. The man handed his horse’s reins to Tiller and made his way over to Ben. “Something’s not right about all of this. How did Hagan know where to find Miss May?”
Harry stared off into the trees for a moment, thinking. “He couldn’t. Not unless . . .”
Ice slid through Ben’s veins. “He had someone in the hotel.”
“Or has.” Harry’s voice was quiet. “Probably a guest.”
The ice pressed into Ben’s stomach. Hagan had to have been suspicious after the man who’d come upon Penny and Mrs. Drexel at the river had reported back that Ben had come after him. Hagan must’ve sent someone to the hotel after that to keep an eye on Ben. Just the thought of someone spying on him and Penny made him feel ill. How much had that person seen? What did he know?
Nothing, he told himself. The man couldn’t have seen anything that wasn’t entirely socially acceptable. All he’d done was inform Hagan of Penny’s whereabouts, not what she appeared to mean to Ben. That had to be all.
But even as Ben repeated that to himself as they saddled up and continued south to the rendezvous point, the more he began to doubt it.
Hagan took Penny not because of what she’d seen or because he needed the hotel’s ransom money. He took her because of what she meant to Ben.
This was all Ben’s fault. He never should have allowed himself to care for her so much.
Chapter Twenty-six
The two men halted their horses on the steep side of a mountain. Penny sighed, wondering if they’d ever reach their destination. If only they’d take these ropes off her hands, then she could try to figure out how to escape. The last thing she wanted was to wait around for Ben. She had no desire to be indebted to a man who didn’t even like her.
The smaller man held out a hand to help her down. Sighing, Penny let him grip her frozen fingers. Her legs ached, but at least this time she kept her balance. The larger man took all three horses, while the smaller one led her past moss- and snow-covered boulders. A fat squirrel scurried across the rocks the moment it spotted them. The place was eerily quiet until a laugh broke the silence.
Penny stilled. The man untied her hands—finally—and pushed her forward, and that was when she spotted it. The dark opening of a cavern yawned at her, and out in front of it stood Hagan with a few other men. They all looked as if they hadn’t seen a bath in months, with dirt-streaked clothes and beards that needed trimming. Penny recoiled, forgetting for a moment the man behind her.
He nudged her forward again. She stumbled, almost falling. Luckily, she righted herself quickly. The last thing she wanted was to look weak to these vile men.
Hagan’s lips curled up into a smile under his overgrown mustache. “Good work, Thompson.”
“Gonzalez had some trouble with her at first. She’s feisty, this one,” Thompson said.
“Young’s got a liking for spirited women.” Hagan leered at Penny.
Penny ignored the man’s reference to Ben. Instead, she fixed the hardest look she could muster to her face through the fear that sat in wait in the back of her mind. She imagined her eyes burning him with the intensity of her glare.
But all he did was laugh again. “Look boys, don’t she look ready to come after me?”
The men around him laughed as well. Penny forced herself to remain still. But she could no longer control her tongue. “I hope you ride off a cliff. All of you, you—you —” She couldn’t think of a word that wasn’t crass, and she refused to lower herself to their level. She settled for spitting in Hagan’s direction. Her mother would’ve been appalled, but Penny cared not a whit for propriety at this moment.
The smile dropped from his face. For a split second, she was glad she made him angry. Until he crossed the space between them in two steps and grabbed her chin with his filthy gloved hand. He held her face up and lowered his until he was barely an inch away from her. He smelled of earth and smoke and body odor, and she gagged as the blood rushed to her ears and her vision focused on his icy eyes. Those same eyes that had haunted her dreams after he’d grabbed Adelaide and threatened her at the river.
Even if Ben cared nothing for her, she knew he was searching. And at this second, she didn’t care about her pride at all. Please come, she prayed over and over as Hagan searched her face with those soulless eyes.
“You’d best remember I hold your life in my hands, girl,” he said.
Penny didn’t flinch even though she was shaking from head to foot. Adelaide had been stuck with this man for weeks. If she could survive, Penny could too. She held his gaze until he smiled and dropped his hand from her chin.
“What do you want with me?” Her voice was surprisingly steady.
Hagan eyed her. “Money, plain and simple. That hotel you work for’s got plenty of it.”
“That’s all?” It was too simple. She was certain it also had to do with the threat he’d made toward her when she’d first seen him with Adelaide at the river.
“You want it to be more?” He stood there, toe to toe with her, leering down. Penny wished she hadn’t asked. He reached down and pinched a piece of her hair be
tween his thumb and forefinger. “That sheriff would do anything to get you back. You and his sister. And I like seeing him desperate.” He tucked the strand of hair behind her ear, a mockery of Ben’s same action. Penny shuddered, and the man laughed again. “How’s that for more?”
“The only thing you’ll get is the noose,” she said, her voice trembling just a little.
“Desperate men don’t win.” Hagan waved at the men standing near the mouth of the cave. “Spread out. Make sure you’ve got the whole area covered. Thompson, bring her inside. Secure her good. Tiller said she wasn’t one to give up easy.”
Thompson grabbed Penny’s arm and pulled her toward the cave as the other men dispersed. Tiller. That name was familiar somehow, but Penny didn’t have time to think about it as the man named Thompson guided her into the cave. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim light from a few oil lamps. Her feet slipped some on the damp floor. The cave thankfully wasn’t too narrow, but she didn’t see how the whole group of men fit comfortably in here. Maybe some of them slept out in the cold.
They stopped just past the last lamp. Penny squinted into the darkness beyond, not entirely sure she wanted to know what might be lurking back there.
“Sit.” Thompson pointed at the floor of the cave.
Penny wrinkled her nose as she lowered herself onto the damp ground. It was chilly back here, too, but not as cold as it was outside. He yanked her hands behind her and retied them with the same rope as before. Penny bit down on her lip as the rope chafed against the same raw spots on her wrists. He looped the end of the rope around a piece of iron that had been hammered into a crack on the cave floor, effectively tethering her in place.
Without a word, Thompson left. Alone in the silent cave, with the shouts of the men outside and the hiss of the nearby lamp, Penny’s eyes traced the knot of a second rope around the piece of iron. It led farther down into the cave.