A small brown-and-black bird fluttered past. It pecked at something on the ground a few feet away from her before flying off again.
A burst of nearby laughter broke the quiet. Two men approached the two-story building beside the Exchange. A large sign on the building advertised that the offices of the Herald were located on its second floor.
“Derby, you didn’t!” One of the men grinned at the man next to him.
Derby! The lieutenant Pa came to talk to! Eliza hurried toward them.
“Oh, but I did.”
Chuckling, the first man bid Derby farewell and disappeared into the building.
Lieutenant Derby turned to leave.
“Wait! Lieutenant Derby!” She must not miss this opportunity.
Daniel exited the store, his shoulders slumped. The night air cooled his face as he stood in the lamplight streaming from the doorway behind him.
The shopkeeper closed the door a moment later.
Daniel waited for his vision to adjust. After the doctor, he’d stopped by the San Diego Herald’s offices, with no luck. Then he visited each hotel, inquired at every store, and still came up empty. No one remembered Eliza’s father, nor recalled seeing anyone who resembled him. The last store owner had recommended Daniel try asking at the grog shop. Daniel tended to avoid such places, but the suggestion made sense.
Eliza must be anxious for news by now. He walked across the plaza to the restaurant and stepped inside, scanning the small space.
Eliza wasn’t there.
He spoke with the proprietress, who told him Eliza had left the restaurant more than an hour before.
He bolted outside, then stopped. Why was he so worried? She must have returned to the Exchange.
Despite his rational thoughts, his feet sped toward the hotel. He encountered Mrs. Tebbetts in the front room.
“You’re the young man who came in with Miss Brooks, aren’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Would you please let Miss Brooks know that her clothes have dried? I’ve just left them in her room.”
She wasn’t there?
He darted back outside and scanned the plaza. No sign of her. He hurried toward the south, then froze. What if she’d gone north or east or west? Which way should he search first? He whipped his head in every direction, scanning the dark for clues.
Eliza, where have you gone?
Chapter 15
Eliza hurled a small stone into the moonlit river. The tiny splash sounded harsh in the quiet night. She hurled another. And another. Tears streamed down her face. She threw her fists in the air. Why?
Lieutenant Derby had been gracious and kind, but he had known nothing. Pa had never spoken with him. Pa’s interest in working for Derby had been her only lead. She would never be able to find Pa and convince him to go back to Oregon with her. She’d come here for nothing. She’d suffered the captain’s impertinence for nothing. Nearly drowned for nothing. Lost everything that was precious to her for nothing.
It was all for nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
She swiped at her tears as a roar ripped from her throat. Bending, she gathered another handful of stones and hurled them one at a time as far as she could up the river.
Footsteps crunched the dirt behind her. She whirled about, stone in hand, her arm poised to attack.
“Whoa!” Mr. Clarke raised his hands to protect his face. “It’s me. It’s just me, Miss Brooks.”
She lowered her arm. Let the rest of her stones fall to the ground.
“What are you doing out here?” His voice was gentle. Even tender. “I’ve been searching for you everywhere. Are you all right?”
She nodded as she rubbed the dirt from her hands. “I’m sorry. I intended to return before you came looking for me. I guess I lost track of time and I just…” She cleared her throat. “I spoke with Lieutenant Derby. He doesn’t know where Pa is. Never…” Despite her best efforts, her last words emerged in a warbled whisper. “Never even spoke with him.”
“I’m so sorry.” Mr. Clarke lifted his hand toward her, then lowered it. “We should head back to the hotel. It isn’t safe out here.”
She started toward town.
He fell in step beside her. “I spoke with the proprietors at each of the hotels and stores in town. No one has heard of or seen your father. I’m sorry.”
She kicked a rock in their path. “There must be somewhere, someone else to ask.”
“The owner of the last store recommended that I inquire at the grog shop.”
“The grog shop?” She frowned. Too many men entered such establishments for “just a drop” and didn’t come out till dawn, far worse for the wear.
“It does seem a likely place to find information.”
She said nothing, giving him a sidelong glance.
“I do not plan to imbibe spirits, if that is what worries you.”
She lifted one brow.
“You have my word.”
Her shoulders relaxed. Mr. Clarke was a man of honor. “All right. I’ll wait for you in the plaza.”
“No!” The word burst from Daniel’s lips. He would not allow her to wait outside in the dark. “This may be a small town, but it is still far from safe for a lady to be standing alone outside after dark—even if Captain Swenson is holed up in the abandoned hotel at the Playa with the rest of his crew.”
“Nonsense.” She waved a dismissive hand. “I’ll wait near the entrance. If anything should happen, I’ll simply call for you.”
He halted. “Absolutely not.”
Her steps didn’t even slow. “Why ever not?”
She couldn’t be that naïve. She must not be thinking clearly. He hastened to catch up. “Have you any idea what your reputation will be if you are seen standing outside a grog shop at night?”
Her eyes widened.
“As it is, your reputation is in danger. We should not be here alone after dark.” He stopped a few yards short of the entrance to the plaza. “I think it best if I’m not seen in your company as you enter town. I’ll wait and watch from here. Go directly to the hotel and do not stop or acknowledge anyone.”
“But—”
“Go!”
She pressed her lips together and her eyes narrowed. But—miracle of miracles—she went.
Chapter 16
As Daniel entered the small, one-room, adobe building, his nose was assaulted by the scents of liquor, bread, leather, exotic spices and other aromas he couldn’t identify. The source of the smells—an amazing array of goods for sale—lined the walls in barrels, open crates, and shelving.
In the center of the room, a handful of men sat around tables enjoying drinks. Daniel asked permission to join one of the tables and was welcomed to do so. To set the men at ease, he ordered a drink. He sipped it slowly as the men grilled him on everything from his experience in the mining fields to the grounding of the Virginia on the Zuniga Shoal. Many of the men at the table spoke both Spanish and English. Thanks to his time mining, Daniel could say si, eso es mio, and yo no hablo español. But that was the extent of his Spanish. It made sense that these men were fluent. This town had been part of Mexico until the war less than a decade before.
After a while, the conversation slowed and Daniel sensed the men preparing to depart. He cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair. Keeping his tone casual, he repeated the same lines he’d said all afternoon. “Actually, I’m looking for the father of a friend of mine, name of Jim Brooks. He wrote that he was in these parts sometime last year, but my friend hasn’t heard from him recently. I promised I’d do my best to locate him while I was here. Any of you gents know him?”
The men shook their heads, then several of them took another draw from their mugs.
Daniel tapped his finger against his thigh. All this time wasted. How would he tell Eliza?
The man who’d introduced himself as Farley set down his mug. “Brooks, ya say?” He rubbed his chin, squinting his eyes.
“Yes, Jim Brooks. He’s
a tall man. Be hard to forget.”
Farley grinned. “Why sure I remember Big Jim!” He faced the man across from him, who’d introduced himself as Oris. “Don’t you remember? He got all het up on account of them two Indians we strung up for murdering. Wanted us to wait on a judge. ’Member that?” The man laughed as though it were a great joke.
The ale soured in Daniel’s stomach.
“Oh sure,” said Oris. “Big Jim. Haven’t seen him around lately, though.”
“No.” Farley rubbed his chin again. “Think he mentioned something about maybe heading to Frisco last I saw him, though he hadn’t quite made up his mind. Was missing some gal, I think he said.”
“When was this?” Daniel held his breath.
“Weren’t too long after the hanging. Almost a year ago, I’d say.” He took a swig of his drink as the other man agreed.
“Sure, it was right about the time of the big fiesta.”
Daniel’s heart sank as the man went on to describe the horse races that had occurred during the fiesta. It didn’t take a year to reach San Francisco no matter how one went. Jim hadn’t made it there, or he would have been to visit Eliza. Wouldn’t he?
When the racing story was finished, there was a lull in the conversation till Oris spoke again. “Didn’t Big Jim say something about visiting that hunter friend of his, first?”
“Oh, right.” Farley scratched the back of his head. “Thought his friend might be up in the mountains near the river’s head. Said he might try to find him before he went north.”
Daniel leaned forward. “Are you certain?”
“Pretty near.”
That would be enough for Eliza. She’d run off into the mountains, facing who-knew-what dangers. Meanwhile, Daniel would be on a ship to Boston. There would be no one to protect her. He’d promised to share any information he uncovered. But how could he tell her this?
Eliza paced the confines of her hotel room. The little boy was crying again. Eliza had removed her bonnet but could not make herself prepare for bed. What had Mr. Clarke learned in the grog shop? He’d been in there for ages.
Returning to the window, she pulled back the curtain to peer into the darkened plaza below. She squeezed the rough fabric. Someone was approaching from the direction of the grog shop. She rushed downstairs.
She threw open the front door and dashed outside, colliding with a male body. Except, it wasn’t Mr. Clarke. It was the steward from the ship.
“Miss Brooks!”
“I apologize, sir. Are you all right?” She stepped back, but he followed.
He leaned close. “I knew you’d find me.” Whiskey laced his rotten breath.
“Pardon?” She shuffled back and bumped into the wall of the hotel.
He stepped closer and pinched a strand of her hair, twisting it between his fingers. “They all do, once the captain’s through with them.”
What was he talking about? She sidled left.
He dropped the strand and grabbed her waist with both hands.
“Sir!”
He pulled her toward him, his lips pursed.
She shoved at his hands, leaning away from him. “Unhand me this instant!”
“Don’t play coy with me.” He snarled as his fingers dug into her sides. “I know what you are, despite your prim clothes.” His right hand left her side to capture her flailing wrist. “I know what you want, now he’s cast you aside and left you to fend for yourself.”
“Let me go!” She shoved at him with her free hand, but he was surprisingly strong for such a skinny man.
He yanked her body against his and tried to kiss her. She pushed his chin up, curling her fingers to scratch him. At the same time, she jerked her knee upward—where it would hurt.
“Ah!” He released her and hunched over. Stepping back, he touched his chin and his fingers came away spotted with blood. “You…!”
He lunged for her, but an arm snaked around his neck. “Don’t you touch her!”
“Mr. Clarke!” Oh thank heavens! He held the steward at bay.
Mr. Clarke’s eyes met hers. “Are you—”
The steward elbowed him in the stomach and twisted away. He punched Mr. Clarke, then took off down the street. In seconds, the scoundrel rounded a corner and was gone.
She rushed to Mr. Clarke, who was rubbing his jaw. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” He straightened his coat. “What are you doing out here? We agreed it would be safer for you inside.”
“Yes, but I couldn’t wait to ask and when I saw…” She glanced to where the steward had disappeared, then at Mr. Clarke. “What did you learn from the men in the grog shop?”
He brushed dirt from his trousers. “Nothing.”
Her breath whooshed from her lungs. “Nothing?” How could no one know where Pa had gone? “Did you not ask them about Pa?”
Mr. Clarke squared his shoulders. “Of course. They simply do not know where your father is.” He stepped closer to her. “I’m sorry, Miss Brooks. Truly I am, but I think it best if you give up this quest.”
“Give up?” She stepped back, her heel catching on a rock, causing her to fall against the wall.
He caught her arms, steadying her. The steward’s closeness had terrified her, repulsed her. Mr. Clarke’s closeness...her gaze caught on his lips. There was nothing repulsive about him.
“Just for now, so you come east with me. I can protect you during the journey, and—”
What was he saying? She squeezed her eyes shut as the warmth of his hands penetrated her sleeves.
“I’m certain my family would welcome you once we arrive in Roxbury, which is on the outskirts of Boston. My brother is moving into his own home and Mother has already been complaining how empty her house will be. Your coming will be a blessing.”
Her eyes flew open. He wanted her to leave California?
“You can stay with them and send letters back here asking about your father. It is a much safer plan than remaining here and continuing this fruitless search on your own.”
She held her hand up. “You want me to abandon Pa?”
He held his palms up. “You’re not abandoning him. He’s not here.”
“He could be.” What if he isn’t? She had no idea where Pa was and when Mr. Clarke left, she would be on her own. The prospect hadn’t sounded so intimidating when she’d left San Francisco. Now, her knees trembled. She clenched her jaw against the tears that filled her eyes. “He is here.” She hated the telltale warble of her voice. He must be.
Mr. Clarke’s face softened. “Miss Brooks.” He wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb. His touch sent something warm pinging through her as his fingers spread to encompass her cheek. His compassionate gaze held hers. Her breath caught.
A long moment passed.
The scuffing of boots grew louder, interrupting the charged silence.
Daniel dropped his hand. What just happened? When he’d touched her…what was that? He shook his head.
Was that Farley jogging toward them? Oh, no.
Daniel had to stop him before he noticed Eliza. He stepped into Farley’s path. “Farley, I’m glad you’re here. Let’s head back. I’m feeling thirsty again.”
Farley craned his neck to peer behind Daniel. “You didn’t say nothing about a pretty lady friend.”
Daniel set a hand on Farley’s shoulder, urging him to turn back toward the grog shop. “Listen, let’s not talk where our voices might disturb those resting.” He waved his free hand to the upper windows of the Exchange.
Farley didn’t budge. He stared at Eliza another moment before looking at Daniel. “I been thinking. You might be a sight better off heading into them hills if you have a map to show you the way.”
Eliza stepped forward, a crease between her brows as she studied Daniel. “Why would you go to the mountains? You’ll miss your ship.” Her brows lifted and she faced Farley. “Has there been a discovery?”
“Gold? In these mountains!” Farley guffawed. “Not likely.�
� He gave Eliza another lengthy appraisal.
Daniel squeezed Farley’s shoulder.
“Uh, right.” Farley dragged his gaze back toward Daniel. “So, about that map. I was thinking I might be persuaded to draw you up a real fine one for the right price.”
Daniel nudged Farley away from Eliza. “Thank you, but I’m not—”
Farley leaned forward. “I could have it ready for you first thing tomorrow.” He winced. “By noon, that is. First thing tomorrow by noon.”
Maybe if Daniel agreed to pay Farley for the map, the man would leave. “Yes, fine. Thank you. Will a dollar, do?”
“A dollar will do fine.”
“Good. Right then. Shall we say noon at the grog shop?”
“You got it.” Farley shook Daniel’s hand and turned away.
Eliza stepped forward. “Just a moment, sir.”
Daniel’s back tightened.
“Where will this map be leading Mr. Clarke?”
“Why the mountains, of course. Where Big Jim said he might find his friend.”
Daniel didn’t dare turn around. But then, he didn’t need to. His memory showed him the fury that would be on Eliza’s face—a fierce glare through narrowed eyes over pressed lips.
Farley blanched before mumbling his good nights and hurrying off down the plaza. The troublemaking coward disappeared around a corner.
Daniel straightened his shoulders and took a deep breath before turning to face Eliza.
He froze.
Her lips were pressed, but they trembled. She wasn’t glaring at him. Her eyes were wide. And they shimmered.
He was the worst kind of no-account. “I—”
She raised a hand. “Big Jim? You know where Pa is and you lied to me?” She clasped her elbows. “Why?”
“I didn’t…I don’t…” What could he say? It had seemed so clear. Wandering into the mountains on a wild goose chase was something only a fool would do. He didn’t have time for foolishness. The men at the grog shop said another ship would arrive to take the Virginia’s passengers first thing in the morning. He needed to leave with the ship. But he couldn’t leave Eliza here defenseless. His best choice—his only choice—was to withhold the information until she was safely aboard the ship with him. The deception had been for her own good.
Waltz in the Wilderness Page 12