by Sabine Starr
“We’re from Jefferson.” Elmira pointed east. “Our city was once the largest inland port in Texas with riverboats coming all the way from New Orleans.”
“When we were young, we had so much fun!” Lamira clasped her hands. “Kaleidoscope music. Dangerous gamblers. Handsome ship captains. Parisian fashions. Parties. Dances. And the wonderful Queen Mab Festival.”
“Please do not let anyone from New Orleans convince you that their Mardi Gras is better than our Queen Mab Festival because it is not true,” Elmira said.
“At least it wasn’t true.” Lamira touched a fingertip to the corner of her eye as if to hold back tears. “The U.S. Corps of Engineers ruined our city. They dynamited the ancient Red River Raft to leave Jefferson high and dry. Without deep water, riverboats can no longer reach us.”
“We were left to pick up the broken pieces of our lives,” Elmira said. “And we just limped along.”
“So you came to the Bend to start over?” Belle asked.
“Yes,” Elmira agreed. “It’s on the edge of civilization. It’s vibrant with life. It makes all things seem possible.”
“And it’s got nothing the government wants to destroy,” Lamira said.
“Yet,” Elmira added.
“I’d never thought of Delaware Bend in that way,” Belle said.
“Tempest inspired us.” Lamira smiled. “She shook off the roots of the past and grasped the future.”
“She’s quite famous, you know,” Elmira said.
“Yes, I do know,” Belle agreed. “I imagine that she’s an inspiration to other women to take up the cause of temperance.”
“Not me,” Lamira said. “I do like a little hot toddy of an evening.”
“Sometimes they share one with me,” Mercy added.
“We do whenever we can lure you away from the Red River Saloon, you naughty man.” Elmira winked at him.
“Not often enough,” Mercy said. “It’s hard to tempt you away from an Angelica novel.”
“Oh!” Lamira fanned a hand near her face as if to cool her sudden heat. “Sweet Rescue in the Indian Territory is so exciting. I’ve read it six times.”
“And the Viking!” Elmira added. “To think Angelica wrote about a real-life hero. I’ve heard he sometimes accompanies her when she reads to book groups. Can you imagine meeting him?”
“You never know who you’ll meet in the Bend,” Mercy said. “Lady Gone Bad has been known to sing in the Red River Saloon.”
“I’d love to hear her,” Lamira said.
“I bought the sheet music to several of her ballads,” Elmira added. “As soon as we get settled in our new place, I’m having our piano moved here. We may all sing some lovely duets together.”
“Belle, you’ll join us, won’t you?” Lamira asked.
She blinked in astonishment. What had happened to Delaware Bend? Folks wanted oil paintings and jeweled bar tops. Soon they’d be dressed in the latest Parisian fashion. Maybe poetry readings would be held in saloons. Civilization was making inroads into the Bend. Tex would’ve loved the twins. He’d have sung with them in a heartbeat.
“Sure she will,” Mercy agreed. “Nobody would miss out on one of your musical evenings.”
“Except Diana, if we don’t find her soon.” Belle brought the conversation back to the business at hand. “Did either of you ladies see or hear anything unusual last night?”
Chapter 7
“We’re new to town,” Elmira said.
“And we don’t like to stick our noses into other people’s business,” Lamira added. “We wouldn’t want to get the reputation of busybodies.”
“No one would think that of you.” Mercy felt the first glimmer of hope he’d had all morning.
“In that case,” Lamira said, “we were sitting by our window last night. It’s pretty entertaining to watch Main Street.”
“And at our age we don’t need much sleep,” Elmira explained.
“Or want it. There’s plenty of time for that in the grave.” Lamira gave an emphatic nod of her head.
“Did you see Diana?” Belle prompted.
“We thought we heard unusual noises downstairs,” Elmira said.
“But with all the carrying-on in the Bend, it’s hard to know for sure,” Lamira added.
“What did it sound like?” Mercy tried to keep the frustration out of his voice, but he was anxious to find out if they’d seen or heard anything helpful.
“Muffled voices,” Elmira said.
“Men?” Belle asked.
“A man and a woman,” Lamira explained.
“And a scuffle,” Elmira said. “Yet there are always fisticuffs in the Bend.”
“But not in this hotel,” Lamira corrected.
“Afterward, the front door slammed shut.”
“So hard it shook the walls,” Lamira added.
“That’s when we focused below our window,” Elmira said.
“Did you see Diana?” Mercy asked impatiently.
“I can’t say for sure.” Lamira shook her head.
“But what did you see?” Belle stepped closer.
“A lady was manhandled out to a horse in front of the hotel,” Elmira said.
“That man was certainly no gentleman,” Lamira added.
“Certainly not,” Elmira agreed. “He threw her onto the saddle of one horse, leaped into the other, and tore out of town towing her horse by the reins.”
“Did the woman look like Diana?” Mercy asked.
“The light could have been better,” Lamira said. “I wouldn’t want to make a mistake and lead you astray.”
“But was her shape and size about right for Diana?” Belle asked.
“Yes,” Elmira agreed.
“When we realized Diana was missing this morning, we concluded that she might not have left willingly last night,” Lamira said.
“We were on our way to find Mercy when we heard you down here,” Elmira added.
“What direction did they go?” Belle asked.
“North toward the Red River,” Lamira said.
“Did you notice the time?” Mercy looked from one to the other, hoping against hope that he could narrow the time so he’d have an idea how much distance they might have covered.
Elmira patted the gold watch pinned to her bodice. “About two this morning.”
“That gives them a good seven hours’ head start.” Mercy felt a sense of relief to know what had probably happened to Diana, but he also felt a renewed sense of worry that they’d lost so much time. He glanced north as if he could see through the building, across the Red River, and into Indian Territory. He had little doubt that Diana had been taken there, but he couldn’t imagine for what purpose.
“Did we help?” Elmira asked.
“Yes. You’ve given us a good lead,” Belle said. “Did you notice anything special about the horses?”
“One was gray,” Lamira said. “That’s the best I can do.”
“Wait.” Elmira looked at her sister. “Don’t you remember we remarked on the gray horse’s unusual gait?”
“Yes. He moved like a pacer. And that’s odd because pacers are usually buggy horses.”
“Pacer?” Belle asked in a choked voice.
Mercy glanced at her in surprise. She looked pale as she quickly sat down on the bed and took deep breaths.
“Are you all right?” Elmira stepped forward and soothingly patted Belle on her shoulder.
“Did I say something to upset you?” Lamira asked, appearing contrite.
“No.” Belle closed her eyes as if retreating into her own private thoughts.
Mercy wanted to go there with her, but she wouldn’t welcome him. She had her own personal demons just like he did. Sometimes the best you could do for another person was to leave him or her alone.
“Oh, dear,” Elmira said, “we wouldn’t have caused you pain for the world.”
Belle stood up, a slight smile tugging at one corner of her mouth. “You’ve given us good leads. Thank you
.”
Mercy smiled at the sisters. “If we’re going to find Diana, we’d better get on our way.”
“Stay safe,” Elmira said.
Lamira glanced around. “We’ll neaten up Diana’s room, so it’ll be nice for her when she comes home.”
“Thank you,” Mercy said.
He walked into the hall with Belle. “I’m going to run up to my room and grab my saddlebags. Want to come with me?”
“No.” She nodded toward the front door. “I want to see if I can find anything unusual in the dirt in front of the hotel.”
“Good idea. I’ll be right down.”
While Belle walked away, he hurried upstairs. Once in his room, he set his rolled sketch and box of charcoal on the table beside his other sketches. He opened his saddlebags, packed the new purchases inside, and then sat down on the bed to catch his breath. He didn’t want Belle to think he was weak, but after she spent a little time around him, she’d know. He cursed his situation again. As long as he hadn’t been exerting himself physically, he’d been fairly stable. A short time with Belle and he was losing ground fast.
Two weeks ago in Burnt Boggy Saloon in Indian Territory he’d been drinking himself into an early grave to ease his pain. He’d met Lucky and Tempest there, and they’d given him hope. They’d persuaded him to return to the Bend to repair the bar and create a painting of Temperance Tempest to hang in the Red River Saloon. Tempest believed he was haunted by a ghost sucking away his energy and slowly killing him, so she’d sent him to Diana for help. Diana was a palm reader and some sort of mystic, although she wouldn’t talk about her past. She’d helped stabilize him so that he’d felt better than he had since coming to Texas.
Yet he knew what was killing him and it wasn’t any damn ghost. Sheer arrogance was the culprit. He’d believed in Free Love like many others in the Spiritualism movement. He’d thought women were for play, not commitment. He’d known he could seduce, satisfy, and be on his way because he’d done it often enough with the ladies. But he hadn’t counted on Victoria. She was something he’d never encountered at any of the Spiritualism picnics and camp meetings. Everything in him had told him to stay away from her, but she was the most seductive woman he’d ever met. He couldn’t resist the temptation and the conquest. Only he’d been the conquered one. And she wouldn’t let go.
If he’d left a trail of broken hearts before, he was paying for it now. But he’d truly believed in Free Love and he’d thought all those women had felt the same way. Still, maybe that’s what he’d wanted to believe. He couldn’t tell anymore. He knew only one thing. Even if it cost his life, he was going to save Diana. Call it penance. Call it self-serving. Call it helping a friend. It didn’t matter. She was a woman who deserved a long, happy life. And if she somehow saved him along the way, he wouldn’t complain.
He shrugged out of his fancy vest and replaced it with a sturdy leather one. He tied a red bandanna around his neck. In case the weather turned bad, he rolled up a long, cotton duster and tucked it under his arm. He doubted Belle had one, so he’d get a duster for her from Ludmila. He finished packing his saddlebags and added a sketch pad and pencils. He glanced around the room. He might not see it again. He touched the sketch of Tempest with one long finger. As much as he hated to think it, he might never finish this painting.
He adjusted his hat as he turned his back on the peace he’d known for a short time and stepped through the doorway. He’d linked his future with Belle. Only time would tell if two brave ladies could lift the curse of a powerful, vengeful woman.
And if he could find redemption.
Chapter 8
Belle slowly walked down the boardwalk in front of the Lone Star Hotel. She peered over the tops of hitching posts, hoping to find useful sign. So far she hadn’t discovered anything helpful due to Main Street’s churned-up dirt. She stepped down on the ground and moved back and forth, but still she saw nothing that provided a clue to Diana, her kidnapper, or the pacer.
Riders steered around her and wagons gave her a wide berth, but both kicked up dust. As she knocked the dirt off her jacket, she realized that she’d better change clothes before she went to Indian Territory. She’d be going into rough country and she didn’t want to call attention to herself as Texas Belle Thompson, the bounty hunter.
She sighed. Big Jim and Mercy had turned her life upside down. She’d been headed in a known direction. Now she was headed into the unknown. But the living took precedence over the dead, no matter how well loved.
Yet she suspected that her two trails might converge. She’d been searching for a pacer since she’d seen that type of horse track at the death sites of both Tex and Hackett. Now she had to wonder if Diana’s kidnapper could be the same man as Tex and Hackett’s bushwhacker.
She didn’t see how there could be more than one pacer in the area since Standardbreds were rarely used like Thoroughbreds as saddle horses. Pacers were popular for harness racing and as light buggy horses.
After she’d found the pacer’s tracks, she’d made a point of learning about Standardbreds. Pacers left a distinctive track. They moved two legs on the same side forward together, unlike a trot where the two legs diagonally opposite each other moved forward together. A slow pace was fairly comfortable for a rider, but a fast pace was not, so the gait wasn’t practical for riding fast over long distances. But a pacer could be taught a form of amble that was smoother to ride.
She assumed that she was now looking for a gray pacer specially trained to a four-beat lateral gait. A horse like that would be memorable among saddle horses with mostly dark bay coats.
When she heard the door of the hotel open, she looked around. Mercy stood there with his saddlebags and what he’d gathered for the trip. He gave her a slight smile and then nodded in the direction of Manny’s Stable.
She felt warmth unfurl in the pit of her stomach at the sight of him. She couldn’t understand her reaction. She hadn’t been interested in anyone since Hackett, because who could hold a candle to such a perfect man? Perhaps she was simply tired and lonely. In time, she felt sure Mercy would simply drift away like the wind.
“See anything helpful?” Mercy walked to the edge of the boardwalk and glanced around.
“No.” She took a final look around before joining him. “Too many horses. They’ve destroyed last night’s tracks.”
“Do you think you can find the trail out of town?”
“If it’s there, I’ll find it.”
“We’re lucky one of those horses is a pacer.”
“Yes. I can pick out the hoofprints easier. But don’t you think it’s an odd choice for a saddle horse?”
“If it helps us find Diana, I don’t care.”
“I still wonder why a kidnapper would ride a memorable horse.”
“Does it matter?”
“I get uneasy when something doesn’t make sense.”
“A man can get attached to a particular horse.”
“But an outlaw who doesn’t want to be noticed? I’ve got to think one of several things might be at work. The rider’s arrogant. He’s intentionally leaving a trail. He prefers a pacer.”
“Don’t rule out stupidity.”
“You’re right. I could be reading too much into this pacer. But so far, it’s our best lead.” She didn’t normally share information, but this was different. They were going to work together. “There’s another thing.”
“What?”
“I found pacer tracks where both Tex and Hackett were bushwhacked.”
He looked at her in astonishment. “Do you think it’s the same horse?”
“That’s about the only thing that makes sense.”
“If that’s the case, this might be more than a simple kidnapping.”
“Something to keep in mind.”
Mercy nodded before he glanced at the sky. “Think we ought to be on our way before clouds build up and rain washes away the trail?”
She looked up, too. “That’s a beautiful blue sky. No rain t
oday.” “How can you be sure?”
“I’ve lived in Texas all my life.”
“Guess that’ll do it.”
“But I agree we need to get out of town. Why don’t you go ahead to Manny’s. I’ll hurry over to the Red River Saloon, pick up my horse, and change clothes.”
“You’ve got clothes there?”
“Big Jim keeps a trunk for me in his rooms. It’s handy when I’m passing through the area.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“Why? You’re loaded down. You might as well get your belongings transferred to the back of a horse.”
“I’d just as soon we stayed together.”
She sighed. “You think I’d run out on you?”
“You weren’t eager to—”
“Mercy, one thing you need to understand about me. I keep my word.”
“You’re my best hope. I don’t want to lose you.”
“You won’t.”
“Then I guess I’d better mosey over to Manny’s.”
“I’ll meet you there.”
When neither of them moved, Belle realized they were reluctant to separate from each other. She was so surprised by the thought that she simply stared at him. He glanced down at her mouth, then back into her eyes. She felt as if he’d brushed her lips. She slowly licked her lower lip as if to wipe away his touch or to return it. His eyes darkened to stormy gray. He abruptly turned away and headed for Manny’s Stable.
She watched him for a moment, wondering at her reaction, but then shook her head. She didn’t have time for flights of fancy.
Chapter 9
Mercy took a deep breath to clear his head. He wasn’t a man who was meant to give a woman a future. First, there’d been Free Love, next the curse, and finally his sickness. But Belle put him in mind of a long life filled with hot nights between cool sheets, sunny picnics reclined on soft quilts, and passionate snuggles on a bear rug before a crackling fire.
He glanced at Main Street. Life went on as usual. Folks arrived. Folks left. And some folks stayed. He wouldn’t mind settling down in the Bend. It was a far cry from what he’d known back East, but it could be a good life if he had a woman like Belle by his side. But she wasn’t a woman to put down roots and he wasn’t a man who had any.