Texas Moon TH4

by Patricia Rice

  "Betsy's been kidnapped. I don't know if you remember her. Did you see any little girls at the station?" Janice spoke quickly. Daniel had been her friend when she had most needed one. He'd always been kind to Betsy, but that had been five years ago.

  Tyler was already running back to the wagon. Evie held the horses' reins, easing them to the side of the road so they could turn around. Manuel cursed and climbed back into his saddle. Only Daniel remained where he was, hanging on to the wagon wheel and staring up at the worried couple on the seat.

  "We'd all know Betsy if we'd seen her. We didn't. I think you'd better tell me the story while we ride." Instead of mounting his horse, Daniel tied it to the back of the wagon. Before Peter could protest, he climbed up, shoving Janice over and taking the reins. "You look like hell. Save your breath for talking. I'll drive."

  Janice adjusted her position between the two men and managed to capture one of Peter's hands before he could reappropriate the leather. Daniel was right. Peter's cough had not improved with the ride. He ought to be lying in the back of the wagon instead of driving. She didn't dare push him that far, but she could keep him from arguing foolishly. She leaned against him, and he instinctively wrapped his arm around her. Daniel set the wagon into motion the instant Tyler had his turned around.

  The story was a long time in the telling since it had to begin with why Peter had disappeared for so long. Manuel served as messenger between the two wagons, carrying snippets of the story up to Evie and Tyler, then coming back for more.

  It was while Manuel was with Tyler that Peter answered one of Daniel's unspoken questions.

  "Townsend says what we've found ought to be sufficient to repay Tyler's loan. We own the mountain. One day we can come back and try to excavate deeper. For now, I want to bring Janice and Betsy home."

  Janice jerked her hand away from him and sat up straight, but she didn't contradict her husband in public. She just clenched her teeth and kept her eyes on the road. Betsy came before any argument over where they were going or when.

  Beside her, Daniel gave them a thoughtful glance, but Manuel was already on his way back. He answered simply, "You know you're always welcome. Mother asks about you constantly. That's one of the reasons I'm here."

  Peter lifted a scornful brow. "Didn't your friend Martin tell you where I was?"

  Daniel shifted a little uncomfortably on the seat. Janice could almost swear he flushed a little.

  "He's not much of a letter writer. He does what he wants. I haven't heard from him in weeks. Have you seen him?"

  "No, but Janice has. I didn't even know he was out there. He does his job well, I'd say. How long have you had him following me?"

  Daniel shrugged. "I wouldn't exactly say I had him following you. I just asked if he'd keep an eye out for you when I hadn't heard from you in a while." He turned and winked at Janice, who listened to this with astonishment. "The last I heard from Pecos, he said my brother had good taste in women. He must have decided looking after you was more important than looking after Peter. Or more interesting."

  Janice ignored the implied compliment. "You aren't really telling me that man was Pecos Martin, are you?"

  Daniel grinned. "It's a little like saying I talk to Santa Claus, isn't it? But those dime novels get written about real people often enough. You've heard about Buffalo Bill and Wild Bill Hickok and Annie Oakley. They're all real people. Why shouldn't Pecos be real?"

  "I'm not even sure the others are real," she muttered. "Nobody can do the things those dime novels say."

  "Well now, that's another story entirely. I make up Martin's exploits for my books. He comments on them occasionally. He didn't like it when I had him wooing women, for instance. He's not much of a skirt chaser. I think he meant to correct me physically at one point, but he's come to enjoy the notoriety some. I doubt if he has any real friends, but he's willing to help out upon occasion."

  Peter growled and pulled Janice closer to him and away from his brother. "I don't fancy some outlaw gunslinger hanging around my wife. I'd suggest you call him off."

  "I'll drop a note to his box, but I can't promise when he'll pick it up. I'm surprised that he didn't go up the mountain after you, or take off after these men who took Betsy. That's more his style than flirting with the ladies." Daniel sent Janice a look of concern. "Why would anyone kidnap Betsy? Do they know about the gold?"

  Peter hadn't mentioned her relationship to the kidnappers. Janice glanced down at her hands, letting him explain as he thought best.

  "I think one of them is a cowpoke I tangled with back in Mineral Springs. His name is Bobby Fairweather. Remember those fires I told you about?" Peter addressed this to Daniel over Janice's head.

  Daniel nodded. "You thought they were set, but you were the one who got blamed for them."

  "I'm almost certain the first one was set. I did some nosing around, and Bobby's name came up a time or two too often." Peter ignored Janice's look of surprise. "He's the spiteful kind who harbors grudges and likes to get revenge for every sort of imagined slight or wrong. He talked against Janice in the presence of some of his cronies a couple of times." He gave Janice a wicked grin. "You weren't very nice to the boy, you know."

  "He's a malicious drunk and a lazy no-account," Janice replied serenely.

  Daniel chuckled. "And no doubt you told him so to his face."

  "I don't believe in talking behind people's backs." She squeezed her hands together. It had never occurred to her that Bobby would be so small-minded as to try to get even with her for words said in argument.

  "That's mighty high-minded of you, but Bobby took offense. And then there are always those who thought a woman shouldn't be teaching their young ones and so on and so forth, so he probably convinced himself he was doing a good deed. Besides, he was drunk most of the time and probably liked showing off at fires."

  Manuel intervened. "I caught him setting a prairie fire once. The boy is sick. I told Jason to keep an eye on him, but Bobby's always been good at playing possum."

  Peter nodded. "I haven't got any proof on either fire. No one saw him either time except afterward, when he was helping to douse the fires. But he's been known to have words with the bootlegger who died in that shack. He was there gambling that night. I know that much. But I asked a few too many questions after that first fire. Bobby heard about it and we had words. He could have set the second fire just to get even with me, knowing who the sheriff would go after."

  "And now he's here with Stephen. What does that mean?" Janice clenched her hands in fury as much as anguish. She'd never liked Bobby Fairweather, but she was ready to murder him now.

  "Probably just that birds of a feather stick together. Stephen asked after us. Bobby repeated some malicious gossip. Their minds started working in the same direction. They could have come here with just this plan in mind."

  "Why?" Janice cried.

  Peter looked at Daniel, then looked at the road ahead. "I suspect Stephen knows who I am," was the only reply he made.

  He didn't need to say more. Daniel sent him a look of comprehension. "He's from Ohio?"

  Janice nodded. "But not from Cutlerville."

  "It doesn't matter. Mulloney Enterprises is known beyond Cutlerville." Daniel grimaced. "And I'm probably the one who told him about your marriage. I had it announced in all the papers."

  The final piece fell into the puzzle. Stephen hadn't come looking for her until after he'd heard about her marriage to a wealthy man. Janice closed her eyes and tried not to think about it. She'd married Peter for his money. It served her right to have it thrown back in her face this way. She should never, ever have done it.

  Peter caught her hands and kept her from clenching them into little balls that would have been painful if she hadn't worn gloves. "We'll find him, Jenny. He can't get away from all of us."

  She kept telling herself that over and over as the wagons rolled down the hills toward Gage. She even tried to believe that Stephen had just wanted his daughter, that he hadn
't known where to find her until he saw the marriage notice. She wanted to believe that everything would be all right, that no one would hurt a little girl, but she had seen too much of the world to believe her own lies. Even if Stephen didn't hurt Betsy deliberately, he didn't know how to take care of a child with Betsy's delicate constitution. Anything could happen to her before they caught up with him.

  * * *

  "What in hell is she doing now?" Stephen asked irritably as the train bumped and jerked into the next station.

  Bobby had grown tired of watching the kid and was half asleep in his seat. He opened one eye and watched as Betsy handed the conductor a folded sheet of paper. Stephen grabbed it before the man could look at it, and Bobby shrugged and closed his eyes again, wondering why his companion had bothered asking.

  The conductor frowned and eyed Stephen suspiciously as he opened the paper, but Stephen ignored him. He should have known the paper would just contain another one of her interminable sketches, but he couldn't take any chances. If she could sign her name, she could write messages asking for help. He folded the scribbling back up again and handed it to the conductor, shrugging and saying, "Kids. You never know what they're up to."

  The man still didn't look too happy, but he smiled at the sketch when he opened it. "She said she'd draw me a picture if I gave her my pencil. It's a fair exchange." He patted Betsy on the head and wandered off.

  The child looked completely angelic sitting there, her hands folded in her lap and her smile innocent. Stephen didn't remember much about Janice when she was young, but he remembered himself well enough. The little brat was up to something.

  The train chugged to a halt. Grabbing Betsy's hand, Stephen jerked her from the seat and headed for the door. His plans didn't count on anybody finding them until he had what he wanted. The Mulloneys owed him, and he meant for them to pay.

  It took Bobby a moment before he realized they were getting off. He staggered to his feet and followed, protesting, "I thought we were going to San Antonio. What in hell are you doing?"

  "Losing anybody who tries to follow," Stephen replied curtly, half dragging the child by the hand across the station platform to the street.

  "I thought you said nobody would follow." Bobby took a hasty swig from his flask. He liked things to be easy. He didn't like the thought of Peter Mulloney coming after him with a gun. "I thought you said there wasn't anybody there but the woman, and she can't ride."

  "She got up there somehow. She'll find some way to get down. We're not taking any chances." Stephen reached the porch of the dilapidated hotel across the street. He halted and shook Betsy's arm until she looked up at him with that wide-eyed innocent gaze he was coming to despise. "Not a word out of you. If I hear you talking to another soul, I'll slap you until your ears ring. Do you understand me?"

  Betsy had never been slapped in her life. She continued staring at him as if he were an alien from another planet. He gave her a disgruntled look and pulled her into the hotel lobby.

  Once the three of them were upstairs and behind closed doors, Stephen pulled out the meager contents of his pocket and handed a bill to Bobby. "Go buy some boy's clothes that look like her size," he commanded. "And don't you dare spend any of that on whiskey or I'll break the bottle over your head. If you want your share of the proceeds, you're going to have to start holding up your end of this deal."

  Bobby looked at the bill, then at Betsy. Even half-drunk Bobby could tell there was nothing boyish about the kid. He had serious doubts about this whole affair. He was ready to go back home. Ellen might be a pain sometimes, but she didn't nag and complain like this bastard did, and she provided certain comforts he wasn't likely to find on the trail. And if this idiot thought he would hide the kid by putting boys' clothes on her, he was a little cracked in the brainpan.

  "She don't look like no boy," he tried to offer.

  Stephen reached in his pocket and opened the folding knife he kept there. "She will when I get done with her."

  Before either of his companions knew what he would do, he grabbed a handful of Betsy's newly grown curls and hacked them off.

  Chapter 36

  By the time the wagons reached Gage the next day, Peter's fever had returned full strength. Janice sat beside him in the wagon bed and tried to persuade him to drink water, but he shoved her hands away more often than not.

  Evie offered to help, but Janice couldn't relax her silent vigil. Her daughter had been stolen by a madman and now fever tried to steal her husband. She was all but helpless in both cases, but she didn't intend to give up. Setting her lips, she lifted Peter's head and brought the canteen of water back to his mouth.

  Daniel ran from the town's biggest hotel and climbed into the wagon bed. "I've got you a room. Let's haul him out of here."

  Tyler and Manuel joined him, and between the three of them, they half carried, half dragged Peter through the hotel and up the stairs, Janice following close behind.

  A cry from the lobby below caused her to glance around.

  "Mrs. Mulloney!" Sherman Townsend stood in the front door, staring up the stairs at her.

  Evie caught her elbow and whispered, "Do you know that man?"

  "He's Peter's partner. He came looking for a physician." Picking up her skirts, Janice hastened back down. "Did you find a doctor?" she asked before she was halfway across the room.

  Townsend shook his head. "I've asked all over creation. I rode to Silver City first, but that one's gone to San Francisco. I took a chance and came here instead of over to Lordsburg, but the man here got shot in a brawl just last week. I was thinking about going on over to Lordsburg. That'd be easier than El Paso. I tried telegraphing you. Didn't you get the message?"

  Janice shook her head. "The telegraph operator left to visit his mama a few days ago, Henry told us." With fear clutching her heart, she looked up at the rough man who had stood beside Peter all these months. "I'll look after Peter myself, but my little girl has been stolen. You haven't seen any little girls around here who look like her, have you?" She didn't even notice the admission she had made. Neither did the man in front of her. Beside her, Evie blinked but said nothing.

  Townsend crumpled his hat and stared down at her, shocked. "Stolen? Who in hell would steal a kid?" Then a look of bitter knowledge crossed his face. "Someone heard about the gold?"

  Janice shook her head. "No, I don't think so. It's personal." Then realizing they had left everything this man had worked for these last months in an unprotected shack, she motioned for him to bend over. When he did so, she whispered in his ear. "The sacks are behind the rocks in the fireplace." When he nodded and straightened, she added honestly, "I had to borrow some to get down here."

  He looked more worried than relieved. "Tell me what I can do to help find your little girl."

  Evie apparently decided it was time for her to step in. She caught the big man's arm and led him toward the stairs. "Come upstairs with us. We're going to have a council of war. The more heads, the better."

  Janice tagged after them, sick to her stomach. She didn't see how anybody could miss seeing Betsy if she'd been here. It wasn't exactly as if a town like this teemed with children. What if Stephen hadn't come this way? Where else would he go?

  She listened and tended to Peter while the others talked. Manuel ran to fetch the sheriff at one point. Daniel went out to talk to the local telegraph operator. Evie sketched Betsy's likeness on dozens of sheets of paper as the men argued. Peter woke long enough to take some broth and insist that wires be sent to every station along the Southern Pacific line, both east and west. The expense would be enormous, but even Townsend didn't object when Peter ordered Janice to hand over what gold she still carried.

  Tyler and Daniel had fits, but they couldn't argue for long with an unconscious man. Peter slipped back into delirium not long after, and Evie chased them out of the room. Daniel prepared to catch the evening train going east to post Evie's sketches at those stations. Townsend offered to catch the next westbound train
. Not trusting the sheriff to do a thorough job, Tyler set out to question everyone in town, leaving Manuel to look after the women.

  They spent an uneasy night. Janice refused Evie's help and stayed beside Peter, feeding him when he woke, sleeping beside him when she could. She heard Tyler wander past her door sometime after midnight. She figured if he had good news, he would stop to tell her, but he didn't stop. Manuel took a blanket and slept outside their door, taking his position as guard and messenger seriously. Janice encouraged him to find a bed, but he refused, and if she would admit it, his presence reassured her. This wasn't exactly a quiet town on a Saturday night.

  She wasn't sleeping very soundly at dawn when Peter woke. She felt the heat of his skin as he pulled her closer, and she stiffened, but he did no more than hold her.

  "Is there any news?" were the first words he spoke.

  "None," she muttered worriedly. It was good to have Peter's arms around her, but she couldn't relax while a man with no pride or morals hauled Betsy around the countryside.

  Peter was silent for a while. Finally, he said, "I let you down, didn't I? I meant to take care of you so you would never have to worry again."

  "You couldn't have foreseen this." It might be easier if she could blame somebody, but she couldn't. She had learned long ago that life took strange twists and turns and one couldn't predict them. She could only build fortresses against those things she knew about. She'd thought marrying Peter for money would give her added protection. Maybe it would in some ways, but not the ways that counted.

  "I could have forgotten the damned mountain and taken you back to Ohio. I could have been with you."

  She'd had those thoughts, but they were empty ones. She shook her head. "And made it easier for Stephen to find us?"

  He kissed her nape. His lips were dry and hot, but she shivered at the touch.

  "A man could learn to love a woman like you real easily," he murmured.

  "A woman who marries for money?" she asked scornfully.