He was by her side then, wrapping his arms around both his girls.
Dahlia squirmed to look at him. “Marcus?”
“There’s our little princess.” He tried to smile through the tears that blurred his vision. He wanted to say more, but too much clogged his throat to speak.
A hand touched his back, as Claire scooted by them. “You all must be starved. I’ll make sandwiches.”
Marcus looked up at Bryan, but kept one arm wrapped around Lilly. So many questions to ask. But he couldn’t say anything in front of Lilly and Dahlia. Especially not Dahlia. The quicker she could forget about the whole ordeal, the better.
He pressed Lilly’s waist. “Let’s get you inside. I bet Dahlia needs to eat.”
Lilly sniffed, wrapping her daughter tight for one more squeeze.
Once Marcus had Lilly in a chair at the kitchen, her daughter snuggled close in her lap, and Claire scurrying around to lay out milk and biscuits, Marcus dragged Bryan back to the parlor.
He leveled his gaze on the man. “Where was she?”
“Tucked in a corner behind the shanty that butts up against The Spirit of Butte.”
Marcus cringed. Right in the heart of the red light. “Any sign of the man?”
Bryan shook his head. “I didn’t wander around to look, but Chauncey was gonna take a group back and start searching the area.”
“Is she hurt?” He steeled himself against the answer. Lord, please don’t let her be hurt.
“I didn’t do a full examination, but there weren’t any obvious injuries. Seemed more cold and scared than anything.”
Marcus sucked in a long breath. His sweet little pixie. He sought Bryan’s gaze. “How do you think she got away from him?”
Bryan shrugged. “Been ponderin’ that, but I don’t have an answer.”
Running his hand through his unruly hair, Marcus turned toward the kitchen door. “Let me make sure these two are settled, then we can head back out.”
“Marcus?”
He turned back at the word. Bryan’s mouth was pinched, like he wasn’t quite sure he should share his thoughts.
“What is it?”
“I think it might be a good idea to bring the child with us. She can probably take us straight to the place he kept her. If the man’s already high-tailed it, we may never find his trail. This way, we could at least have a start.”
Marcus was already shaking his head. “No.” No, no, no.
“It might be a good plan.”
He whirled at the soft female voice behind him. Lilly. How could she even entertain the idea?
She met his gaze. “I’ll ask if she thinks she can do it.” She must have read the absolute refusal on his face. “The man has to be caught, Marcus. We can’t live with him out there.”
Conflict wrenched his emotions. She was right, they couldn’t live with the shadow of fear that Barlow would strike at any time. As long as the man was loose, there was always that chance.
But to endanger Dahlia again to catch him? To expose her to the memories he only wanted her to forget?
And Lilly. He had no misguided notions that she’d let him take the child without staying by her daughter’s side every step of the way. Could he really expose her to the danger if they found the man?
Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and He shall sustain thee. He shall never suffer the righteous to be moved. The verse flittered through his mind, bringing a touch of peace with it.
All right, Father. Please keep them safe.
With a long exhale, Marcus nodded. “All right.”
~ ~ ~
LILLY CLUTCHED her daughter tight as they walked. Marcus didn’t stray far from her side, especially as Bryan led them deeper into the red light district. These roads were far too familiar. It wasn’t much farther to her own house, maybe a quarter of a mile. Had that low-life resided so close to her treasured hideaway all this time?
She soaked in the sweet little-girl scent Dahlia hadn’t lost, even in the trauma from the last day. God had brought her back. Safe. She owed the Almighty a long talk as soon as this was over. Thank You, Lord. The simple prayer would have to do for now, but she meant it with every fiber of her being.
Bryan pulled to a stop, then pointed to a tiny opening between the buildings. “I found her back here.”
The men struggled through the crack, but Lilly was able to squeeze through without a problem, even with Dahlia pressed against her. The crevice opened to a multitude of wooden structures, most of them shanties, but a few rough-looking businesses with haphazard signs advertising wares and services.
“She was curled up right there.” Bryan pointed to the back corner of the shack where it met another building. Then he brushed the back of Dahlia’s hair. “Weren’t you, little one?”
Lilly crouched down to the ground and pulled Dahlia away enough so she could see her face. “Do you remember being here, honey?”
The child looked around, then slipped a thumb in her mouth and sank against Lilly. “Uh-huh.”
“Do you remember where you came from? Where did that bad man take you?” She almost held her breath. Would Dahlia understand? Maybe she’d been so lost, she wouldn’t be able to remember.
Dahlia was quiet for a moment, then looked around. “That way.” She pointed south.
Lilly’s heart pounded. “Good job.”
She helped Dahlia stand, then rose and gripped her daughter’s hand. “Can you show me?”
A red-haired man approached from the north and spoke with Bryan—the deputy who’d taken her description of Barlow. But she ignored him as Dahlia began to lead her.
Marcus stayed close, not taking his hand from her. He kept either touching her elbow or the small of her back, depending on which way Dahlia pulled her. His presence cloaked her in the warmth of security. She wasn’t alone in this. No matter what they faced, Marcus would be with her.
Dahlia led them down the alley for a few minutes, then paused. She glanced around, her little eyes squinting. Had she lost her direction? Finally, she pointed between two shacks. “I think I came through there.”
Marcus signaled the men who’d trailed them—the deputy and some others. “Search the area,” he murmured just loud enough for the little crowd to hear.
Lilly pressed forward as Dahlia led her, and Marcus took Lilly’s other hand in his. When they stepped onto another narrow street, Dahlia stopped.
Cowering into Lilly’s skirts, she slipped her thumb into her mouth again. That was a habit they’d been working hard to get rid of, but if it helped her cope now, they’d deal with it another day.
Lilly bent down to eye level with her daughter. “Do you remember where he took you?”
Dahlia eyed her with an uncertain expression. “Somewhere around here, I think.”
She couldn’t help but pull her daughter close for a hug. “Good job, honey. You did really good.” She glanced up at Marcus. Would it be enough?
He nodded as if he understood the question, then ran a hand over Dahlia’s stringy, black hair. When this was all said and done, the child needed a bath and clean clothes.
Men around them filtered in and out of shacks, barking comments and commands as they searched. Marcus stayed with her, the three of them an island amongst all the activity.
A shout echoed from a shanty three doors down and drew Marcus’s attention.
Lilly stared at the open doorway of the little building. What had the man said?
Bryan appeared in the door frame, his eyes finding Marcus. “Chauncey, you better come in here.” But his gaze never left Marcus. Telegraphing some kind of message?
Marcus moved forward, jogging toward the shack as other men swarmed in.
Lilly scooped up her daughter and followed. Bryan’s reaction hadn’t sounded like the man was there. Just some kind of evidence. Something inside pulled her toward the scene.
Chapter Twenty-Two
PREPARE YOURSELF, man.”
Marcus stepped over the threshold as his brother-in-law’s words drifted
back to him. Chauncey was close on his heels and barked for the rest of the men to stay outside.
The shack was dark, and it took a moment for Marcus’s eyes to adjust. He followed the curve of Bryan’s outstretched finger to a shadowy mass on the floor by the stove.
Marcus’s heart seized. It couldn’t be.
As he stepped closer, the outline of a man’s contorted body took shape. A lanky form, emanating a rancid, coppery smell, almost like the singing of iron at the smithy’s forge.
Chauncey slipped past him and approached the man on the floor. Bending low, he rolled the figure onto its back. “He’s dead. Looks like a bullet in the chest.”
Marcus’s throat constricted. “Is it…?” His mind wouldn’t formulate the rest of his question.
“Matches the description of Barlow.” Chauncey touched the man’s face, turning it sideways. “Has a scar on his cheek under the beard.”
The deputy rose to his feet and eyed Marcus. “Since she’s here, I’d like the woman to identify him. We can cover everything but his face for her to see.”
“No.” The word was out before Marcus’s mind had even processed the question. Under no condition would he allow Lilly to be traumatized any further by this man.
“I think it’d be wise,” Chauncey said. “This could be another drunken miner for all we know. The description wasn’t very unique.”
“I’ll do it.”
Marcus spun to face her, pressing himself toward the open door frame. “Lilly, no.” She stood beside the steps, Dahlia’s hand still clutched in her own. They were both at an angle where they couldn’t have seen the corpse.
“Marcus.” Her word came out long and deliberate. “I need to know it’s the right man.”
The air whooshed out of him like a mule kick to his gut. Why did she keep doing this? Putting herself in situations he wanted her to stay far away from? “Lilly…”
“Perhaps Bryan can stay with Dahlia out here?”
At least she hadn’t proposed he stay outside with the child. Marcus slowly swiveled to face the men inside the shack.
“I’ll go out with her.” Bryan was already striding past him.
Chauncey had found a blanket somewhere and flicked it into the air. He allowed it to settle across the corpse on the floor.
“Make sure nothing of the wound is visible.”
The deputy nodded, kneeling to adjust the dead man’s head. “Bring her on in.”
~ ~ ~
LILLY BARELY BREATHED as she followed Marcus into the dim cabin. The pungent, coppery smell of the place tightened her stomach.
Her eyes roamed to the deputy, then drifted down to the mass of blanket on the floor. Her gaze slid from one side of the form to the other, finally finding a shock of dark hair protruding from the left end.
She pressed past Marcus to get a closer look.
The man’s eyes were closed, but the face was undeniable. She swallowed down the bile that rose in her throat.
A hand closed around her waist, pulling her into a strong, comforting grip. She leaned into Marcus, but couldn’t take her eyes off the man who’d haunted her nightmares for years.
“Is it him, ma’am?”
She nodded, but her focus wouldn’t move. Barlow’s eyes were closed, as if he slept and would awaken any moment to attack her. His scruffy, drawn face looked so different than when she’d first met him with Pa-pa at the hotel. Then he’d looked almost respectable. But now…there was no doubt the man was vile.
It was good his eyes were closed and the week-old beard covered his face. They masked the shape of his eyes, the flare of his nose, the point of is chin, so that any resemblance her daughter had to this man was lost.
She turned away. She’d suffered enough at his hands, and he’d not get the satisfaction of another moment of her life.
Lilly gripped Marcus’s elbow as they exited the shack, the deputy close on their heels. Outside, Lilly’s gaze found Dahlia and she closed the distance between them, scooping her daughter up into a hug. She squeezed her eyes shut as she breathed deeply, drawing in strength.
A throat cleared behind her.
With effort, Lilly forced her eyes open and swiveled to face the deputy. Marcus’s steadying hand settled at her back.
“If you don’t mind, ma’am, I’d like to ask the girl how she got away. And if she saw anyone else fightin’ with Barlow.”
Would this nightmare never end? After the blackguard was finally dead, they still had to be traumatized by dragging up memories of him? She opened her mouth to object, but the deputy spoke again.
“It’d help us know if he had a partner we need ta chase down.” The lawman cleared his throat and glanced down at his mud-caked boots.
She raised her chin, forcing in a calming breath. He was trying to help. If Dahlia could answer a couple questions, maybe this would all be over.
Squaring her shoulders, she leaned back to make eye contact with her daughter. “Honey, can you tell me about the man who took you to that cabin? Was there someone else with him?”
Dahlia slipped her thumb in her mouth and shook her head.
“So it was just you and the man?”
The child nodded.
“Did he talk to you?”
“A little. But then he coughed a lot and didn’t talk anymore.”
Lilly struggled to fit this new piece of information into the picture in her head. “Was he sick?”
Her daughter shrugged.
She tried asking a different way. “Did he lay in bed a lot?”
Dahlia pulled her thumb from her mouth. “I was tired, but then a loud bang woke me up. The man was sleeping on the floor, but I couldn’t wake him up. So I left. I wanted to find Mama.” She shrank into Lilly’s arms, and Lilly squeezed tightly.
“It’s all right, honey. I’m so glad you found me.”
The image that formed in Lilly’s mind now looked nothing like the earlier one. Had Barlow killed himself? Or had another man sneaked in while Dahlia was sleeping? It would be fine with her if they never found out, but would this information be enough to satisfy the deputy? She glanced at him.
He nodded, his lips forming a grim line under his red beard. “I’m still not sure if it was a suicide or a murder, but it sounds like there wasn’t another man who stayed with them. I suppose we can let it be.”
Relief washed through Lilly as she pressed a kiss to her daughter’s hair. “Thank you.”
They walked back to Claire’s house in silence. Beside Lilly, Marcus carried Dahlia, who’d fallen asleep on his shoulder. If it weren’t for his hand on Lilly’s elbow, guiding her, she wasn’t sure she’d have made it to their destination.
She would have expected thoughts to whirl in her mind, but none came. Her eyes merely stared ahead, although she couldn’t have said what they passed or where they were going.
Was this normal? Every muscle and joint in her body required so much effort to move, unyielding under the weight pressing on her.
At Claire’s house, Marcus released her arm long enough to open the door, then guided her inside.
Claire met them in the parlor and took Lilly’s hand to help her into the kitchen. “Lilly, why don’t you sit and have a cup of tea. Marcus can lay Lilly down for a nap.”
She shook her head, fighting the pull of Claire’s hand toward the table. “No. I’ll lie down with her.”
Claire didn’t object but scurried around Marcus as he lay Dahlia in the bed, then stretched a quilt atop her.
Lilly could only stand and watch, like she were an invisible flying creature, hovering somewhere above the scene.
Marcus touched her arm. “Do you need anything else?”
He was so gentle, she forced herself to look at him. Kindness radiated from his eyes. Something else, too, but she couldn’t examine it right now.
“No. Thank you.”
The Adam’s apple at his throat bobbed, and he stayed there watching her for another moment.
“Try to get some rest.”
She looked back at Dahlia and nodded.
And then they were gone, the only sound left in the room being the steady in and out of Dahlia’s breathing.
Lilly’s legs began to quiver. She reached for the bed and sank onto it. Why was she falling apart now? After the awful ordeal was over?
She pressed her thumb and forefinger against her eyes, relishing the burn. She had to process what had happened.
Her head popped up, and she glanced around the room. Her journal. She’d had Doc Bryan retrieve it from her house before she and Dahlia left for the mountains, but she’d not touched it in all these days.
Now was the time. She dropped to her knees by the flour sack in the corner, then rummaged inside. Writing had always helped her sort feelings and find her true self. She needed that now more than anything.
With the book and a pencil in hand, she scooted back against the side of the bed. Enough light filtered through the sheer curtains over the window to make this the best spot. Without reading through any of her earlier entries, Lilly found the first blank page and raised her pencil.
To my better self,
I don’t know what to think or what to say. Barlow is dead. I’ve seen him with my own eyes. My Dahlia is returned to me. Even now I watch her steady, even breathing as she sleeps. Marcus has been my rock through it all.
Yet why is my heart still troubled?
I prayed last night. Really prayed, that if God cared, he would bring Dahlia back to me. And He did. So what does that mean for me? I want so badly to believe that He cares. That I might be more to him than a single careless thought at my birth. But can I really possess that kind of faith? It scares me. Maybe more than I can overcome.
Yet I made a promise. Not in words, but in my heart. I promised that if God brought my daughter back to me, I would give Him a chance. But can I really do it?
She laid the pencil in the center crease of the book and stared up toward the light from the window.
Could she be brave enough to trust? It wasn’t a choice she would consider half-heartedly. No, if she made the decision to relinquish control of her life, she would not rescind without just cause. She would keep her promise.
The Lady and the Mountain Promise (Mountain Dreams Series Book 4) Page 15