Truly Yours Historical Collection December 2014

by Susan Page Davis, Paige Winship Dooly, Connie Stevens

  Shame filled her when she remembered the hurtful words she’d carelessly tossed at Gideon’s dream. She determined to apologize for her thoughtlessness as soon as he returned. She glanced once more at the door, hoping for a glimpse of him.

  Keep busy. He’ll be back in a few minutes.

  Miss Pearl had requested some potato rolls to serve with her pot roast, and they were popular items in the bakery as well. Keep busy. She blended softened yeast into the batter, adding flour with leftover mashed potatoes until the dough became stiff. Her knuckles plunged into the dough and began the rhythmic kneading action.

  “Well, well. I’d heard you and Maxwell had a cozy little arrangement here, but I wasn’t sure I believed it.”

  Tessa spun around. Henry Kilgore stood in the storeroom doorway. She hadn’t heard him come in. A shudder rippled through her. “If you want to speak to Gideon, he’s not here.”

  Kilgore sauntered into the storeroom, casting a disdainful perusal at the results of Gideon’s painstaking work. “I don’t need to talk to him. You’re the one I came to see. I wondered if you’d given any more thought to my offer.”

  Offer? What offer? Surely he didn’t mean…. “Mr. Kilgore, I made it quite clear when I quit my job at the hotel that I had no intention of working for you in any capacity. Ever.”

  Kilgore’s laugh lacked even a shred of humor. “Never say never, my dear. I’m certain you’ll come around to my way of thinking.”

  Nausea swelled in her stomach, and the air she tried to drag into her lungs suddenly felt thick. “That will never happen. And I’m not your dear. You can leave now.”

  He took two more steps in her direction. “I can’t leave yet. We’ve haven’t had a chance to sit down for a nice talk. Why don’t you come over to my place, and we can discuss a business arrangement?”

  Was the man deranged? Did he honestly believe he could talk her into going anywhere with him? She backed away. Panic slid its tentacles around her throat, and her stomach threatened to retch. A chill unlike anything she’d ever known invaded her bones. “Mr. Kilgore …” She hardly recognized her own voice as suffocating fear restricted her air.

  Another voice bullied its way into her memory. “You ain’t worth nothin’. “

  The past few months, she’d begun to distance herself from Papa’s assessment, even daring to reject the validity of his words. But the wicked gleam in Kilgore’s eyes and the insinuation of all that his “offer” entailed brought the ugliness of her father’s ridicule crashing over her again.

  She took another step backward and bumped into the corner that formed where the worktable met the wall shelves.

  Kilgore closed the space between them, his scrutinizing gaze lingering on her in a most ungentlemanly way. Was this what Papa meant? Kilgore reached out and ran his fingers down one side of her face. When she jerked away from him, he seized her jaw in a cruel grip. “I’m a patient man, but I do have my limits. You’ve been in this town long enough now to know that I get what I want.” He released his hold and patted her cheek.

  The prayer she’d sent heavenward for Gideon’s safety crossed her lips once more, only this time the petition was for herself. “I told you, Mr. Kilgore. I will not work in your saloon. Now please leave. Customers will be walking in here any minute.”

  “No they won’t. I hung the CLOSED sign on the door when I came in.” A slow, sinister smile slithered across Kilgore’s face, and he stepped back. “You know what I heard? Gideon Maxwell isn’t the choirboy you think he is. In fact, the good people of Willow Creek might be interested to know that Maxwell is a regular over at the Blue Goose.”

  If Kilgore’s presence hadn’t initiated such revulsion, she might have laughed at the insinuation. The very idea was preposterous. Did he think she would agree to go along with his proposition because he tried to make her believe Gideon visited his saloon? “That’s a lie! Gideon would never go there.”

  Kilgore sucked on his teeth. “Maybe not, but people love a spicy story. What do you think that will do to his credibility as an honest businessman, hmm?” A smug upturn at the corner of his mouth punctuated his question.

  Tears burned her eyes, and she felt sick to her stomach. “Please don’t do that to Gideon. What has he ever done to hurt you?”

  All semblance of the smile faded from Kilgore’s face. “He thinks he’s better than me. Gideon Maxwell looks down his nose at me, just like his old man did. Holier-than-thou hypocrites, both of them. Just like the good people of the town where I grew up.” A vein bulged on the side of his neck, and his chest rose and fell like the bellows in Cully’s blacksmith forge. “Just because my old man was no good, all the important people in town—those fine, upstanding people who always acted like they were better than everyone else—said I had his bad blood.” A grotesque sneer disfigured his face. “Gideon Maxwell is just like them. Well, I aim to teach him that nobody toys with Henry Kilgore. I will destroy Gideon Maxwell. Unless …”

  Fear rose up to strangle her once more. Even without Kilgore finishing his thought, she knew what his conditions were. He moved close to her again and wrapped his fingers around a handful of her hair. She couldn’t draw enough air to scream.

  He leaned in so close she felt his hot breath on her face. “You come with me now, or I promise you, before the day is out, I’ll see to it that Gideon Maxwell’s good name and reputation are so sullied he’ll lose the respect of everyone in this town. People will spit on him just like they used to do to me. But no more.”

  If Kilgore did what he threatened, the dream Gideon had shared with her a few days before would shatter at his feet. She couldn’t let that happen.

  Kilgore grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the back door. “You keep your mouth shut when we step out, or so help me, you’ll wish you had.”

  He pushed her out the door in front of him, and when he did so, the gingham apron she wore—Mama’s apron—caught on the hook Gideon used to latch the door at night. A ripping sound reached her ears. When she tried to rescue the garment, Kilgore clamped his fingers around her upper arm and twisted her flesh. She bit her lip to keep from crying out.

  “You won’t be needing that apron anymore.” Kilgore’s hateful gloat seared her heart. Papa’s jeering words echoed in her head again, mocking the effort she’d made in the past months to live in a way to make her mother proud.

  He dragged her along beside him as they stepped out from behind the telegraph office on their way across the street to the Blue Goose. When they entered the establishment, the odor of whiskey and smoke assaulted her senses. Jeering catcalls from the men leaning against the bar and indecent invitations from others seated at the tables brought tears to her eyes. A hand reached out and pinched her as they passed. It was her nightmare come to life.

  God, protect me.

  “Hands off, boys. She’s off-limits.” Kilgore tugged her up against him, out of the reach of the groping hands. A maniacal grin spread his lips. “At least for now.”

  One man wearing a dirty, sweat-stained shirt with missing buttons bellowed, “Ain’t our money good enough for her?”

  Kilgore forced her through a doorway at the back of the smoke-filled room. “In due time, gentlemen. For now, she’s mine.”

  He pulled the door shut behind them and pushed her down a narrow hallway. Muffled voices and laughter came from behind a row of closed doors.

  God, please help me.

  When they reached the last door, Kilgore pulled a key from his pocket and inserted it in the lock. Thrusting the door open, he shoved her into what she assumed was his private room.

  Heavy draperies hung at the window, blocking out most of the light. Whiskey bottles and glasses sat on a small table. A wooden chair took up one corner. Maroon velvet covered the bed positioned in the opposite corner.

  He locked the door behind him. “Now then, you and I need to get to know one another. Sit down there.” He indicated the chair.

  Heavenly Father, don’t let this man touch me. “Mr. Kilg
ore, please don’t do this.”

  “I thought we had a deal,” he hissed, raking his gaze over her in a way that made her feel like the deed he insinuated had already been done. “Not that it matters now.”

  Through her paralyzing fear, words she’d heard over and over in her dreams came back to whisper in her ear once again.

  “Tessa, God says you are precious in His sight, and I agree with Him.”

  seventeen

  Gideon cut through the alley behind the telegraph office mulling over Hubert Behr’s words. As he approached the back door of the store, his steps slowed.

  The door stood open, and smoke drifted out.

  He closed the distance in a few long strides and leaped up the steps. A blue gray cloud filled the bakery area. Had she gotten distracted by customers out front? “Tessa?”

  He jogged through the storeroom and past the store counter. Odd. Why was the front door shut and the CLOSED sign displayed?

  “Tessa!” A sweeping glance told him she was nowhere in the store.

  He strode back to Tessa’s work area and yanked the oven door open. Smoke billowed from blackened lumps inside. Tessa wouldn’t leave something in the oven like this, unless …

  “Tessa!”

  Where could she have gone? He turned to head out the back door when a small green-checked scrap of cloth on the latch caught his eye. Tessa’s green gingham apron. He shoved the shredded cloth into his pocket.

  His heart in his throat, he lunged out the door and raced in the direction of the boardinghouse. There was no sign of her along the boardwalk. He catapulted over the picket fence surrounding Miss Pearl’s backyard and bounded up the back steps. “Miss Pearl!” He hammered on the door, gulping air.

  Scurrying footsteps approached from inside, and the door flung open. “Mercy sakes, Gideon. What’s wrong?”

  He pushed back his panic and wiped his sleeve across his forehead. “Is Tessa here?”

  “Why, no. She likely won’t be home until later this afternoon. Why?”

  Without taking the time for an explanation, he bolted across the yard and hollered over his shoulder. “If she shows up, keep her here.”

  His pounding heart reverberated in his ears as he ran down the boardwalk, checking stores and offices as he went. The ache in his chest had nothing to do with his heaving lungs. Where could she be?

  Maybe she’d gone to the hotel to see Tillie and Flossie. He dashed down the alley to the side door that opened into the hotel kitchen. Trying to keep his wits about him, he yanked it open.

  The two women sent startled stares in his direction.

  “Have either of you seen Tessa today?”

  Tillie shook her head. “Not today. She stopped by yesterday to bring me and Flossie some—”

  Gideon pushed away from the door and ran to the front door of the hotel, nearly plowing over two people who were exiting. He mumbled an apology and strode directly to the front desk. “Do you know if Mr. Behr has come in, in the last few minutes?”

  The clerk behind the desk tossed Gideon a look of surprise. “Why, no. I’ve been here for the past several hours. If anyone had come in, I’d have known it.”

  Gideon lit out across the street, dodging passersby. Willow Creek’s sheriff might be Kilgore’s puppet, but if Gideon couldn’t locate the Pinkerton agent, he was running out of choices. He found Sheriff McCoy leaned back in his chair with his feet on the desk and his hands interlaced over his chest, eyes closed.

  “Sheriff!”

  The man flung his arms out like he was about to take flight. He scowled at the interruption of his nap. “What is it,

  Maxwell?”

  “The young woman who works in my store, Tessa Langford—she’s missing.”

  The sheriff yawned and tipped forward in his chair, bringing the two front legs down on the floor with a thump. “How long has she been missing?”

  Gideon frowned with frustration. “I don’t know, maybe an hour?”

  Sheriff McCoy snorted. “An hour? She’s probably running an errand, or out galivantin’, or maybe she’s got herself a beau and it ain’t you. Is that what’s got you so riled up?”

  Gideon resisted the urge to grab the man by his shirt. Instead he turned on his heel toward the door. “I’d appreciate your help, Sheriff, if you don’t have anything better to do. Miss Langford wouldn’t have just up and left while she was working.” He stopped in the doorway to toss a hard look at the lawman. “Isn’t that what you get paid for? Or does Henry Kilgore pay you more than the town does?”

  Gideon didn’t wait for a reply. He stepped out onto the boardwalk ticking off a mental list of places Tessa could have gone. If she’d visited her mother’s grave, he’d have seen her when he met with Behr. He’d checked all the likely places.

  What if she didn’t go anyplace on her own? What if she was taken? He stood panting on the boardwalk for a moment, his stomach in a knot. Could her father have returned? Would he have forced her to go with him?

  He’d need a horse to widen his search. Cully would help him.

  As he ran past the hotel, he nearly collided with Hubert Behr coming out the ornate doors.

  The Pinkerton agent grabbed his sleeve. “What’s going on, Maxwell? The desk clerk just told me you were looking for me.”

  “Tessa’s missing. After I met with you, I went back to the store, and she was gone. She had something in the oven, and it was burning, and I found this.” He pulled the small green-checked scrap of cloth from his pocket. “Her apron was snagged on the back door latch. Wherever she went, I don’t think she wanted to go.”

  Behr’s thick eyebrows lifted. “You think someone took her against her will?”

  Gideon lifted his shoulders. “I’m beginning to think so.”

  Behr scanned a practiced eye down one side of the street and up the other. “Where are you going now?”

  “I’ve looked all over town. I thought I’d get a horse from Cully and start searching out past town.”

  The investigator pulled his face into a frown. “You haven’t sent the message to Kilgore yet, have you?”

  “No.” Annoyance niggled at Gideon. How could the man think about Kilgore at a time like this?

  Behr nodded. “Good. Have you notified the sheriff?”

  Gideon pulled his lips into a grim line. “Hmph, for all the good it will do. He’s about useless.”

  The Pinkerton’s expression indicated he understood. “All right. I’m going to comb the town, every building, every house, every place of business, every alley.” He pulled out his pocket watch. “It’s almost three thirty. If we haven’t found her by four thirty, I’ll force the sheriff to organize a search party.” Behr clapped Gideon on the shoulder and set off at a brisk pace.

  Gideon continued toward Cully’s place, grateful for the agent’s help. What direction should he look, once he was mounted? Dozens of wagon tracks led in and out of town.

  He prayed as he ran down the street. God, please protect her. Where is she, Father? Show me where she is.

  He rounded the corner and had to stop short to avoid running into two men lounging against the building, sharing a bottle.

  “Didja see that pretty little new girl at the Blue Goose?”

  “Sure, I saw her, but Kilgore told everybody she was off-limits. Don’t see why our money ain’t good enough.”

  Gideon’s blood ran cold. He grabbed one of the men by the shoulders. “What girl?”

  The man scowled. “Hey, take your hands off me.”

  His friend laughed. “He just wants a date with that new girl, like the rest of us. Well, you’re gonna hafta get in line, buddy. There’s other gals at the Blue Goose.”

  The two guffawed as Gideon released his grip.

  The Blue Goose! Looking there hadn’t even entered his mind.

  He sprinted across the street and pushed the swinging doors open. A sweeping scan from one side of the room to the other didn’t reveal Tessa. He strode to the bar.

  A heavyset man weari
ng an apron polished a glass and set it in front of him. “What’ll it be, friend? Whiskey?”

  Gideon brushed the glass aside. “I’m looking for a girl. She might have come in here earlier—maybe with Henry Kilgore.”

  The bartender smirked. “You ain’t the only one who’d like to get to know her better. But Mr. Kilgore’s orders are—”

  Gideon lunged across the bar and grabbed the man’s shirtfront. “Where can I find Kilgore?”

  The man’s eyes darted back and forth. “He’s back there in his private room. I can’t disturb him now.”

  “Well, I can. Which room is his? Tell me now, or I’ll break down every door in the place.”

  A sneer slid across the bartender’s lips, and he released a nervous cough. “Long as you don’t tell him who told you, it’s the last door on the left.” He jerked his thumb toward an open door that revealed a hallway.

  Praying he wasn’t too late, Gideon shoved his way in the direction the bartender indicated. Ignoring all the other doors, he barged toward the last one. Without bothering to knock, he tried the doorknob. Locked.

  “Tessa!”

  Thumping and crashing noises, punctuated by a terror-filled scream, filtered through the door.

  Gideon took a step backward and raised his boot, ramming it with all his weight against the door. The door frame splintered and gave way.

  The few pieces of furniture in the room were in disarray, broken chair pieces littered the floor. The shattered remains of a whiskey bottle lay strewed across the room.

  Tessa stood in the corner, eyes wide with fear, tears streaming but unrelenting tenacity carved into her face. She gripped a broken chair leg like a formidable weapon.

  Henry Kilgore leaned against the wall opposite her with his hands raised in surrender and blood trickling from his lip as well as a gash on the side of his head. “Get her out of here! She’s crazy!”

  Gideon plunged across the room and locked his hands around Kilgore’s throat.