“I haven’t seen him either.” The sheriff turned to take one more look at his son. Down at the hotel, Nate helped Win lug the heavy buckets back and forth. Albert glanced up at the clouds and his eyes narrowed. His words echoed what Dalton was feeling: “There’s a storm on the way. It’ll be here in a few days at the most.”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Monday morning, and groggy from another long night, Albert made his way toward the livery where, by five, Win and Nate would already be feeding the horses. Albert was looking forward to the morning off, a plateful of eggs and potatoes, and a long nap. He crossed the deserted street, leaning into the wind as he eyed the dark menacing clouds overhead. Friday had finally brought a reply from Denver. Knowing the bank representatives had set out on schedule but were slowed down by a snowstorm in the high country helped. At least he didn’t have to be disappointed every day when they didn’t show up on the stage. Just hold tight until they arrived, that was the message in the telegram. But even if Albert had no choice but to wait on the bank, there were other things he could accomplish. He’d gotten a telegram off to Corey, requesting he find Floria’s mother and let her know of her daughter’s death. He still had the trunks to go through, but each time he made an attempt, memories made him put the chore off.
As he approached Win’s large barn, he glanced up to find Nate lying on his stomach in the darkened hayloft, watching him.
“Morning, Nate,” Albert said, a surge of love lifting his spirits. The wind ruffled Nate’s hair and sent a few strands of hay dancing in the air. It was a moment before his son smiled back. Nate hadn’t mentioned Floria to him again, but Albert wasn’t convinced the boy had stopped thinking about her being trapped in the train.
“Hey, Pa.” In the dim light, Win’s barn cat appeared by Nate’s shoulder, and he pulled her into a hug.
“Win,” Albert called, stepping into the quiet barn.
“Back here,” came the reply.
Albert walked down the row of stalls to the end, finding his brother inside the last one with pitchfork and wheelbarrow. “Storm’s brewing outside. You looked out there lately?”
“Earlier. It’ll be a doozy when it finally hits.”
“There wasn’t a soul on the street.”
Win took his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his moist face. “Just finishing up a few things before my shift at the bank,” he replied, stretching his back muscles. “I’m going to hire another helper. I liked it when Thom was here. That man’s a good worker.”
“No, you can’t have Thom back,” Albert kidded. He leaned against the stall divider, getting comfortable. “You know Nate’s in the loft?”
“Yeah, he went up there as soon as we finished feeding. It’s my fault.”
Alarm snapped Albert up straight. “Whaddya mean?”
“I had a horse colic last night. Before I realized how serious it was, she died out in the pasture, right there with Nate petting her neck. I’m sorry, Albert. It really shook him up. He’s been pretty quiet ever since.”
Albert grunted, then gripped the back of his neck. There was so much he didn’t know about children. He felt lost. How did one get past a violent train wreck and the death of a mother?
Win lifted a forkful of soiled straw and tossed it into the wheelbarrow. “And the soldiers from Fort McKinney?”
“Still expecting them any day. I really thought they’d be here by now. I get the same reply every time I send a telegram. En route.” Albert sighed, then took a step toward the door. “I’ll go up and get Nate, take him with me to the office and play some checkers until Susanna opens the restaurant. He’ll like that.”
Win set the prongs of the pitchfork in the soft earth and leaned against the shaft. “Have you told her yet?”
“I thought we had this discussion already.”
His brother gave him a stern look. “What’s that mean? Yes or no?”
“She doesn’t need to know the particulars about Floria, and how she carried on behind my back. Not yet anyway. But, if things do work out between us, which I’m counting on, I’ll tell her eventually. I know the truth’ll be safe with her. I’m just not ready to voice it.”
“I wish you would, Albert. Before it’s too late.”
“I know you do, Win. I just can’t go there yet.”
Albert walked back toward the front of the barn. A game of checkers was sounding pretty good as a distraction for him, too. He set a foot on the first rung of the ladder leading to the hayloft and called up, “Nate?”
Susanna had solved her problem by not solving it at all—not yet, anyway. She didn’t care if avoiding the issue was considered weak. Saturday and Sunday had come and gone without a mention of the hurtful and perplexing situation with Albert, giving her heart a rest, and for that she was thankful. One day at a time. That’s how I’ll get through. One day at a time and nothing more. Between his shifts and worry over the bank, Albert hadn’t come into the restaurant, and she hadn’t tried to seek him out. Every time she felt herself softening toward him, the enormity of his lie of omission hit her smack in the face and she fell right back on her mother’s credo.
Susanna lifted her cape from the peg by the door and fastened it around her shoulders, relieved to have work to keep her mind busy. The wind that had beleaguered the town for the last few days whistled around the eaves, sending a lonely chill up her spine. Storms! She hated them. They reminded her of her stepfather’s heartless prank. The dark room and locked door. The body-filled casket. The howling wind outside. The recollection was as fresh as the day it had happened.
Dredging up fortitude, Susanna pulled her hood over her head and hoisted the basket that held several jars of jam, protectively covered with a towel. She opened the door to the dark morning. Roiling clouds covered the sky and a northern wind rushed inside. Rain and wind were common in April; she just wished the storm would hold off until she made the short walk to the Silky Hen.
Ducking her head, she stepped out and pulled the door closed. Right away, the wind picked up the corners of her cape and whipped the garment around. Clamping down on her hood, she hurried away, knowing the street would be a sea of mud by the time she returned home late in the afternoon.
Within a minute, she was at the bridge. The light of several lanterns on Main Street was a welcome sight, soothing her runaway nerves. Straightening the basket of jams in the crook of her elbow, she hurried on, the glass containers clinking against each other and competing with the sound of the wind.
“Susanna!”
She whirled around. Albert ran toward her on foot, the reins of his saddled horse in his hand as it trotted behind. The brim of his hat took a beating from the wind. He wore his typical black leather vest and guns on his hips. The sight of him brought a burst of excitement only he could create. Her thoughts jumped to the kiss, but she pushed the sensation away and smiled. “Albert.”
His gaze jerked here and there as he neared. “Come next to the building so you can hear me,” he said, ushering her toward the bookshop, his arm over her back. Something was desperately wrong. She’d never seen such desperation in his eyes. Chase watched them from his post at the bank. Flanked by the wall on one side, Albert on the other, and his horse, too, she asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Nate’s missing.”
Alarm raced through her body. “What do you mean he’s missing? It’s only half past five.”
A deep V pulled down between Albert’s brows. Lines she’d never noticed before bracketed his eyes, and he looked haggard, older than he should. She longed to reach out and soothe away his disquiet, but she stayed her hand.
“He was just in Win’s hayloft only thirty minutes ago. I went there to pick him up.”
“Then he has to be here somewhere, Albert. Surely he’s just hiding someplace where he can be alone.” She glanced up the street toward the Silky Hen, wondering what Hannah would think when she didn’t prepare the breakfast stuffs on time. One thing for sure, the world wouldn’t come to a screeching
halt if she didn’t open up at seven. “I’ll help you. Tell me everything you know.”
“I’m half out of my mind. If anything has happened to my boy I’ll never . . .” He clenched his fist, and his lips twitched. She’d never seen him so distraught.
“Shhh, nothing bad has happened to him, I’m sure. He’s probably just hiding away because he’s still grieving. He’s been through so much in the last few days.”
“I’ve alerted Chase and Charlie to keep an eye out for him and spread the word to anyone who ventures out in the storm. I’ve searched everywhere I thought he’d go. The cemetery, the creek, Maximus and Clementine’s paddock, even though I told him to stay out. My old apartment where I took him right after we buried his mother. I’ve ridden a circle around the town as well . . .”
“Surely, he must—”
“No. I have a feeling . . .” Albert looked away, as if unable to go on. He shook his head. “He took off on his own. Maybe he’s trying to make it back to Iowa. I don’t know. But I can tell you, I’m more scared now than I’ve ever been facing down an outlaw’s gun.”
Susanna turned and strode up the street with purpose. “Come on,” she called over her shoulder, her words swallowed by a gust of wind. “I need to leave this basket of jams inside the restaurant. It’ll only take a moment, and then I’ll help you any way I can.” And she would. She would try to fly to the moon if he asked her. They’d been through so much. They passed Chase in stony silence, the ranchers forehead lined with worry. Nate might be in trouble, and needed her. She wouldn’t let him, or his father, down.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Susanna struggled with the restaurant’s temperamental lock, every moment a stabbing pain to Albert. On her third try, Albert gently extracted the key from her hand, unintentionally brushing her fingers. A burst of longing ripped through him, making him feel even more disconcerted.
“Sorry,” he rasped out, not sure where they stood after her four days of silence. He’d hoped the kiss would start things moving in the right direction—get them talking. All it had done was make him want her more.
With a jiggling twist, the lock gave way.
“I hate this temperamental old thing,” she said as he pushed the door open for her. “I’ll have Thom replace it. I’m not even going to ask Hannah. One can only take so much!”
Susanna breezed inside. It was dark. He waited by the door as she hurried through the room and into the kitchen. He glanced at the antique Dutch pendulum clock above the wooden sideboard without even seeing the time.
Susanna returned. As he opened the door to leave, she grasped his arm. “Albert, did you check Three Pines Turn? Maybe Nate went out to the train looking for his mother.”
“The train! Of course!” Albert’s heart thumped painfully against his breastbone. He’d overlooked the most obvious place of all. “No. You’re exactly right. That’s where he’s headed. To release his mother from the wreckage.” He looked down at her skirt. “It’s only half a mile—a short ride on a horse. Would you consider riding behind me? We’d get there so much faster if I don’t have to hitch a buggy.”
“Of course.”
“You’re in a dress. And I’ve never seen you ride.”
“When have I had time when I’m always in this kitchen cooking? I used to be a good rider when I was a girl.”
He almost smiled, imagining Susanna galloping across the open prairie with her long black hair trailing behind. “You have a point. Let’s go.”
It took some doing to get her aboard Dunbar, with the wind flapping her long skirt and cape. His gelding didn’t like the idea one bit. He snorted and pranced around every time Albert tried to give her a hand up. Taking his foot from the stirrup, he pointed. “When I pull you up, slide your foot into the stirrup.”
Her cheeks went crimson. “Fine, but glance away while I gather my skirt or else I won’t be able to get past all the material.” A moment passed. “I’m ready.”
Determined, Albert reached down, grasped her arm, and fumbled her aboard behind him. Dunbar jerked to the side, and gave a halfhearted crow hop, eliciting a cry from Susanna. Albert still had a grip on her arm but couldn’t ride that way. “You’ll have to wrap your arms around my waist.”
At first, he thought she wasn’t going to comply. Then one arm came forward, and then the next. Her warmth seeped through his clothing as she gripped her hands together above his belt buckle. “You ready back there?” he asked over his shoulder.
A thunderbolt let loose, making him flinch and her gasp.
“Yes. Let’s go find Nate.”
His gelding jumped forward at his first asking, unsure of what was on his back. Usually skittish in the wind, the scent of lightning in the air had him wild-eyed. Now with Susanna’s billowing clothing, Dunbar was as unpredictable as a two-year-old on his first time out.
“Give him a minute to get used to you.” Albert tried to look behind, but the wind made it difficult. “Feel secure?” Her grip around his middle had steadily increased. They jogged a few more strides until they were out of town. “Here we go, just relax and hang on. It won’t take but a few minutes to get out there. I want to beat the rain.”
He eased Dunbar into a lope, the sky in front of them as black as night. He had to find Nate before the clouds let go. He must be frightened, and cold. What if they were wrong? What if Nate had gone in the opposite direction and this was just a wild-goose chase?
The once-obscure road to Three Pines Turn, now well-worn from the wagons and buggies that had transferred the injured passengers, flew by under Dunbar’s hooves. Albert tried not to think of Nate and how scared he might be. He tried not to think about Susanna and how good she felt with her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. He wouldn’t let himself think of anything until Nate was back in his arms.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
The specter of the train wreckage came into view, and without thinking, Susanna tightened her hold on Albert. In the darkness, with the roiling clouds overhead, flashes of light far off in the distance of the storm on its way, the crippled engine sitting askew on the twisted tracks, the whole scene looked frightening. Dread inched up her spine. She recalled the bodies, at the time of the crash, lined up in a row on the grassy bank.
“Hey, you’re shaking,” Albert said over his shoulder after he placed one of his hands over hers clenched at his middle. “Nothing to be scared of. It’s just a train off its tracks.”
Last summer, they’d been caught out in the meadow by a fast-approaching storm. At her strong reaction to the thunder and lightning, he’d wheedled from her a tiny fraction of her fear, but not from where it stemmed. He’d listened intently, and hadn’t tried to tell her that her qualms were irrational. The compassion he’d shown had touched her heart.
“I know,” she said, laying her cheek against his cool black vest. She closed her eyes for one moment, experiencing what it was like to be close to him for the little time she had left. She’d never felt safer. “When I was a small girl,” she began, “my stepfather locked me in the parlor with the body of his dead brother set out for viewing. It was stormy and dark. He made noises like a ghost and thought it funny when I cried and begged for him to open the door. Sometimes I wake up in a sweat, the sounds of those brittle branches on glass scraping in my ears.”
She was unaware that the horse had stopped and Albert had his head tipped back listening to her small voice.
He swiveled in the saddle, until he could see her eyes. “I’m so sorry.” She could tell he felt her devastation. He cupped her cheek, and for an instant she thought he was going to kiss her, but instead he rubbed his thumb over her cold skin. “I won’t let anything hurt you, Susanna. You’re safe with me.”
When lightning flashed, she trembled, but was able to say, “I know.”
Albert reached around and grasped her forearm in his strong hand. “Down you go, easy now. I’ve got you until your feet hit the ground.”
When she was stable on the uneven earth, he dismount
ed. More lightning crisscrossed the horizon. Dunbar jerked back, and if Albert hadn’t had a firm grip on the reins, the horse would have bolted.
“Nate!” Albert yelled above the sound of the wind. “Nate! Are you here, son? Come out so I can take you home!”
She joined in. After a few minutes of calling without any results, he turned to her. “Let’s load Dunbar into a stock car and start at the passenger cars. I think that’s where he’d look for his mother.” He turned and looked at her. “You ready to run?”
She nodded, but still felt flighty inside.
Understanding softened his face. He held out his hand. “It’s okay. No ghosts or dead bodies here. It’s a thunderstorm that will soon pass.”
Susanna placed her hand in his, and they ran bent over to cut through the driving wind. Raindrops began to fall. The stock cars were toward the end of the train. Susanna held her hood on with her free hand and clutched Albert’s large hand with her other.
“Nate!” he called forward and back as they ran. “Nate! Are you here, son?”
He tried to hide his anguish, but Susanna saw his mouth twist in pain. Reaching the stock cars, Dunbar didn’t hesitate when Albert climbed up into the dark interior and pulled on his reins. The horse hopped inside with loud, clomping hooves.
Standing alone outside of the stock car in the windy darkness, she tried to keep her fears at bay. Branches swayed back and forth in the nearby trees, and debris blew across the ground. The train stretched forward, growing smaller and smaller until it seemed to disappear into the murky dark clouds. For a moment, she imagined she saw a figure standing on top of the train far to the front. Fright made her flinch, and when she glanced back, the image was gone.
Albert jumped out next to her as a flash of lightning sizzled overhead, and within three seconds, a deafening clap of thunder exploded above their heads. The horse snorted and scrabbled on the wooden floor, but his reins kept him firmly in place.
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