Whispers on the Wind (A Prairie Hearts Novel Book 5)

by Caroline Fyffe

  Hunter chuckled. “I’m sure you can,” he replied, slowly looking her up and down. “But I’ve eaten enough cookies to last a lifetime.” His yawn was melodramatic.

  Dichelle’s eyes danced in merriment.

  As Dichelle shrugged into her coat, Hunter went up the stairs, returning with Tabby’s coat as well as his. “It’s brisk out tonight, you’re going to need more than that shawl.”

  A few minutes later, after they’d dropped Dichelle into her room, she and Hunter started back the way they’d come when a sound from the other side of the street made Tabitha glance across. The Lings’ place was dark for the first time ever. Had the lamp run out of fluid? No. Something felt amiss. She pulled Hunter’s arm to get him to stop.

  “What is it?”

  “I don’t know. I think I heard a strange sound, and now I don’t see any light at the laundry house.” She shivered and looked up into his face. “They always leave a light on. I’ve never seen their shop dark before. Something’s not right.”

  She peered across the expanse, trying to see. “Hunter, look! I think the door is ajar!” Without waiting for his response, she darted across the deserted street. Fear curled inside her, and a dark, evil feeling swirled in her mind.

  Hunter beat her to the door, his gun drawn.

  Tabby cried out when she saw a limp hand protruding from the two-inch gap of the opened door.

  “Jake’s mother!” Dropping to her knees, Tabitha waited as Hunter turned her over and checked for a pulse.

  “She’s still alive.”

  “Ma’am,” Tabitha said softly, rubbing her arm. “Wake up. Please. What happened?”

  “I . . .”

  Hunter was on one knee beside them. “She’s coming around. We need to get her to Dr. Thorn’s.” When he went to pick her up, her eyes opened despite a large bruise on the side of her face as well as cuts and scratches.

  “Wait,” she said, in a garbled voice. She tried to lift her arm, but was unable. Tabitha found a paper clenched in her fist, but it was too dark to read.

  “Man . . . surprised Mr. Ling. I tried to fight him off. Found this paper yesterday in the back of the shop . . .”

  Tabitha gasped. “Where is Mr. Ling?”

  “Inside, I think. Hurt or . . .”

  “Bao and Lan?”

  “The man took Bao.” Tears leaked from the corner of the woman’s eyes, mixing with blood from several cuts and scrapes. “I tried to fight, I tried . . .”

  “Come on,” Hunter said, lifting her and striding toward the doctor’s office. “Let’s get her to Dr. Thorn’s. I need to go after Mrs. Ling.”

  Dr. Thorn opened up after several moments of pounding.

  “What?” He blinked in astonishment. He was still dressed in the dapper trousers and wool vest he’d worn to the reading.

  “Jake’s mother. She’s been hurt and says that Mrs. Ling has been abducted,” Tabitha said, her voice trembling.

  Dr. Thorn lit several additional lamps. “Lay her on the table.” He went to his water pitcher and washed his hands. Tabitha took the note to the lantern and quickly read the message.

  “Someone is offering a reward for deportable immigrants! How disgusting! That would be Bao! Dr. Thorn, what will this do to her baby?”

  “Don’t know.” He shook his head. “If she makes it that far. I’ve heard that takes too much time and money and they kill and scalp for the reward—”

  Tabitha blanched. “No! That can’t happen! Lan too? Whoever did this struck on a night they knew everyone would be in my shop all the way down the street. So their struggle wouldn’t be heard.” She glanced at Jake’s poor mother, who’d put up a good fight. “We have to find them, Hunter!”

  “Right now, I have to look for Mr. Ling,” Hunter said. “We think he’s in the shop unconscious.” He picked up a lantern and rushed out the door. She turned for the door but Hunter caught her arm. “You wait here.”

  A minute later Hunter was back with the small man in his arms. He’d been badly beaten, very much like Jake’s mother. Tabitha cleared a space on a sofa against the wall, and Hunter laid the unconscious man down.

  “Let’s go, Tabby,” Hunter said. “I’m taking you back to the shop and you’re staying put. I don’t like that this has happened with Albert and Thom out of town.” He looked at the doctor and then at Jake’s mother, who lay silently, her eyes closed and her breathing shallow. “Can we do anything for her? Or Mr. Ling?”

  “No.” The doctor had stripped out of his vest and put on an apron. He was busy gathering his antiseptics.

  They argued all the way back to the shop. But he’d put his husbandly foot down. When that hadn’t sat well, he asked her nicely, saying he could ride faster and cover more ground if he knew she was safely locked inside Storybook Lodge with her mother. They were in their bedroom, where he hastily filled his saddlebag with more ammunition.

  “But no one is after me, Hunter. I can be another set of eyes for you.”

  “I’ll round up Win, and Charlie when I go for my horse at the Axelrose ranch. It’s dark, so riding will be dangerous. If we don’t strike fast—”

  She’ll be killed, is what he’s not saying.

  “I’m worried, Hunter! What if something happens to Bao’s baby? What if they both die?” She was unable to keep a frightened sob from her throat. “And I’m worried about you. I don’t want to lose you. Those men are ruthless. To hurt Jake’s mom, a pregnant woman, and a little girl they’d have to be pure evil.” She reached out and grasped his arm.

  “Don’t worry.” He slipped his gun into its holster. “I can take care of myself.”

  “I’m worried about that deportation law. If you kill the man, you might be the one in trouble. It’s crazy when it comes to the Chinese.”

  “Kidnapping is against the law, so rest easy.” He caught her face between his palms and took a moment to study it. Then he leaned down and kissed her, tenderly at first, and then with passion. “I won’t kill anyone if I don’t have to. I’ll leave it to the law,” he said, pulling away.

  Tabitha wrapped her arms around herself, but couldn’t stop a violent shiver from racking her body. “I know you’ll save them, Hunter. It’s what you do. You’re a hero through and through. That’s why I knew you’d marry me when I needed a husband fast. It’s in your blood . . .” Realizing she was rambling, she glanced up at Hunter, who was looking at her with the strangest expression she’d ever seen. She couldn’t make it out. “What?”

  He shook his head, and shrugged into his coat. “I need to get moving. I’ve already squandered too much time.”

  She blinked at his curt tone. “You’re right.” She had to run to keep up with him as he bounded down the stairs. Her mother, in her dressing gown and nightcap, opened her bedroom door.

  “Keep this door locked at all times,” he said without looking back.

  Before she could get any more words out, he was gone.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

  Hunter cursed himself the whole way to the livery. “Win!” he yelled. “You here?” He didn’t wait for an answer but strode angrily down the dirt aisle toward the back of the large barn. Why should he feel upset? Tabitha had needed a husband and he’d stepped in. That was plain. Their marriage was no more to her than business. Like one of the romances she liked to read. So what!

  Winthrop came through the back barn doors leading a horse. “Hunter, what’s wrong? I heard you call. You sound upset.”

  “I am! Mrs. Ling and her daughter have been kidnapped for bounty. Seems someone, most likely someone from Rock Springs, has put bounty money on any Chinese that can be legally deported. Whoever did it beat up Mr. Ling and their work woman.”

  Win stood speechless, his face stoic.

  “I’d planned to get my horse from Charlie’s, but that’ll take too long. I need a horse now.”

  “I have one right here.” Win tossed the lead rope to Hunter and reached for the saddle pad and saddle hanging on the top rail of the stall. Within mome
nts, the gelding was ready.

  “I’ll go with you!”

  “I’m ready to ride now. Heading toward Rock Springs. With Albert and Thom out of town, we’re shorthanded. You ride out and get Charlie and whomever else you can find, and I’ll get moving. With Bao in the family way, we don’t have a minute to lose.”

  “The tea is ready,” Tabitha called over her shoulder to her mother, who’d come down after Hunter had left. “Would you like a cookie with your tea? By some miracle, we have a few left over.” The troubling look in Hunter’s eyes still had Tabitha anxious. What had she said, or done? She couldn’t figure it out.

  “Yes, please. Can you get it all?”

  “I have a tray. Stay put.”

  Carrying the tray into the large room, Tabitha settled the fare on the small table beside the flowered chair, and pulled up her desk chair. Her mother took a cookie and offered her the plate.

  “I couldn’t. My insides are knotted. This tea is all I want.” She picked up her cup and gently blew on the steaming brew.

  “What you told me is horrible. I met that nice woman just yesterday. And her little girl. I’m very worried about them, Tabitha.”

  She nodded. She wished she could make sense out of the situation, but she had nothing. “Some people are lawless. And evil. How could anyone harm Mr. Ling, or Jake’s mother?” She didn’t want to consider what might be happening to Bao and Lan.

  “I wish your sheriff was back. Or the deputy.”

  So do I.

  At a scuffling noise, her mother’s cup rattled. “What was that?”

  “I don’t know.” Tabitha set her cup on the table and went to the front door. Pulling back the lowered blind just an inch, she gazed out into the very dark, deserted street. She wondered about Hunter, where he was and if he was safe.

  “Tabitha? Do you see anything?”

  “No. Nothing. Must have been . . .”

  A distinct scratching sounded—this time at her back door. Her mother bolted to her feet. Leaning over, she blew out the lantern, leaving only one by the staircase burning.

  “. . . the wind. Mother, what are you doing?” It doesn’t sound like the wind.

  “Someone is scratching on the back door! What kind of a person scratches on a back door? A bad one, that’s who.”

  “It’s probably just the skunk that was here two weeks ago. Must be back for more of my trash.”

  This time when the sound came, Tabitha crossed to the middle of the room, stopped, and stared at the back door. It definitely sounded like someone scratching. Or knocking softly. Her heart pounded. Hunter had said not to open the door. What or who was out there?

  Rock Springs was a fair piece away and Hunter’s mount was already lathered as he galloped down the road. Hunter had never been this way before so he had to concentrate in the dark not to take a wrong turn and get lost. As he’d been doing approximately every quarter mile, he reined his mount to a halt. When his horse quieted, he listened for the sounds of wagon wheels, or a whimpering child. Anything. Surely, transporting the young girl and Mrs. Ling, they must have a wagon. Which would mean slower going and more noise. He didn’t want to ride up on them and give himself away.

  Then again, they might already be dead, divested of their scalps, and bodies hidden.

  He wouldn’t think that.

  His horse pulled at the reins and pawed the ground. Seemed he was as agitated as Hunter.

  “All right, we’re going,” Hunter mumbled. Just as he was about to give the gelding his head, a whimper sounded in the bushes to his left.

  Hunter cleared leather fast, pointing his gun in the general direction he’d heard the noise. A deep gasp sounded, then a low curse.

  “Don’t move!” Hunter called out. “Or I’ll blow your head clear into Rock Springs!”

  “P-Please d-don’t shoot!”

  He knew that voice, but couldn’t put a name on it.

  “Throw down your guns—all of ’em! Before my finger gets itchy.”

  He heard one weapon clatter into some rocks, and surprise washed through him. This was the easiest outlaw he’d ever encountered.

  “Bring the wagon out slow and easy.” This was another guess, but so far he’d been right. Why stop now?

  Coming in his direction, a team of horses emerged from the brush-lined roadside. By the light of the moon, he recognized Clyde, the drunk, sitting in the driver’s seat and holding the lines.

  “What the hell, Clyde? What’re you doing?”

  Riding forward, with his gun trained on Clyde’s head, Hunter saw Mrs. Ling sitting in the bed of the wagon next to a Chinese man he didn’t recognize. Their hands were tied behind their backs and their mouths gagged. Lan wasn’t there.

  “Spill your guts, Clyde!”

  Clyde’s hands began to shake.

  “Clyde,” he gritted out through his clenched jaw. Mrs. Ling’s eyes were wide over a bandanna tied around her mouth.

  “I . . . I—”

  “I saw what you did to Mr. Ling and the other woman. I should shoot you right now, you cowardly scum—” He clamped his lips closed out of respect for Mrs. Ling.

  “I didn’t do that. I was waitin’ with the wagon. He never said he was gonna hurt no one! Said Mrs. Ling would have a better life back in China. I seen how hard she works all the time. He said they gave ’em a hefty grubstake to get started once they was off the ship. He said she’d be happy to go home.”

  Revulsion washed through Hunter. “Was that before or after you’re paid for their scalp?”

  “What? He never said nothin’ about killin’!”

  “Who?”

  “Mr. Sundstrom, that fella hanging around with Dwight.”

  “He tell ya he was a bounty hunter?”

  Clyde’s eyes went wide and he shook his head.

  “Is Dwight involved?”

  “Don’t think so. Sundstrom would shut up whenever we was talkin’ when Dwight come around.”

  Hunter growled. “Wanted to keep all the bounty for himself, never intending to pay you.”

  “Honest to Pete, Hunter,” Clyde babbled through his tears. “I couldn’t go through with it. I was bringin’ ’em back, that’s why the wagon’s pointed in this direction. I ain’t lying!”

  Confident Clyde didn’t have the guts to shoot him even if he did have another gun hidden somewhere, Hunter rode to the far side of the wagon where he climbed inside and freed the captives.

  Finished, he jabbed his gun into Clyde’s side. “Where’s Sundstrom now?”

  “B-Back in Logan Meadows. When we was almost out of town, the girl jumped out and ran off. He went after her and told me to head to Rock Springs. I hid in these bushes because I thought you was Sundstrom. I’m gonna lock myself in jail just as soon as I take Mrs. Ling home. I figure I should probably hang.”

  Logan Meadows!

  He had to get back, but what about Mrs. Ling? “How do you feel, Mrs. Ling? Are you hurt in any way?”

  She took a deep breath. “I fine. Worry about Lan! And Mr. Ling!”

  “I am, too, ma’am. Your husband is with Dr. Thorn now. I need to get back to Logan Meadows.”

  The Chinese man, now unfettered, jumped out and picked up the guns. “No worry. I make sure she get back to Logan Meadows.” He pointed the gun at Clyde. Hunter had to trust him. That was the only way he’d get back before something terrible happened.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

  At the whimpering cry, Tabitha yanked open the back door to something huddled at her feet. She recognized the black hair instantly and hoisted Lan into her arms, relief surging into her heart. Thank you, God! Thank you for bringing her here.

  Stepping inside, Tabitha slammed the door, and threw the lock.

  “Who is it?” her mother whispered, as if there were others around they had to be careful of alerting. “Is it the little girl?”

  Tabitha nodded, the icy-cold child shivering in her arms. No telling how long she’d been hiding outside afraid to go for help. She carried her
to the chair and picked up the throw, wrapping it around Lan’s shoulders and tucking it in. Holding her like a baby, she gently rocked back and forth. Lan fisted her reddened hands into the blanket. Frostbite could be deadly. “Mother, fix another cup of tea, so we can warm her insides. She’s half-frozen. Her teeth are chattering.”

  Marigold hurried away. “I’m stoking the fire as well and will heat some of the leftover stew.”

  “Lan,” Tabitha said quietly, some of the girl’s hair tickling Tabitha’s face. “Do you know where they’ve taken your mother?”

  “Wagon,” she sobbed. “Going out of town.”

  Please God, help Hunter find Bao—before it’s too late. Is she even still alive?

  “Which way, Lan? Which way did it go?”

  “Over bridge.”

  Marigold hurried from the kitchen alcove with a cup, stirring the contents with a spoon. “Here we are. Nice and hot. Set her in the chair and wrap her up, then she can hold the cup. It’s weak, but will warm her fingers.”

  We need to get this information about the direction of the wagon to Hunter. I wish Albert were here. Or Thom. Surely Win went with Hunter. Dr. Thorn is all the way down the street with his hands full. What to do, what to do . . .

  Lan was reluctant to release Tabitha when she tried to set her in the chair. “It’s all right, sweetie. Nothing is going to hurt you now. You need to drink this. To warm up.”

  Finally nestled back into the seat, Tabitha raised the cup to Lan’s lips when pounding on the front door made her hands fumble.

  “What in God’s name?” her mother screeched from the other room. Whoever it was pounded again. Lan jumped to her feet.

  Tabitha scooped her up. “Mother!” she called in a frantic whisper. “Stall! I’m taking Lan upstairs. I have a very bad feeling.”

  Their gazes locked. “Go!”

  “Open this door!” a man’s voice demanded from outside. “I see your shadows in there. Open up! I need to speak with you.”

  “I have no authority to do so, sir,” she heard her mother argue back. “I don’t live in Logan Meadows, although I’m coming to find the town quite charming. Do you live here? Where are you from? Have you seen how bright the stars are at night?”