by Jodi Thomas
If that were true, Jeb must be hiding somewhere near the courthouse.
When Duncan left the sheriff’s office, he had two missions. His first was to talk to August Myers to see if the man had anything to do with the escape, and the second was to begin searching from the window where Jeb had jumped and continue on to every building in the vicinity.
Talking to August Myers proved impossible. Apparently the reporter had run from the courtroom straight to the train station. The man in the ticket cage remembered August yelling for them to hurry because he had to be on the next train. For a man who claimed to be a war hero, he could sure run like a rabbit.
Duncan wasn’t surprised to learn August had bought one ticket to Fort Worth. Either he was suddenly in a hurry to see his bride-to-be, or his mission in Dallas was finished. Logic told Duncan that August probably wasn’t the brain behind the escape, but he might have been the messenger. Also, as a reporter, he traveled between the big towns and was probably more aware of the train schedules and maybe even shipments than most people.
Slim Bates went along with Duncan to search the alley. Other rangers were covering roads out of town and interviewing the hundred or so citizens who felt the need to come forward and report they’d seen what might have been the outlaw or heard strange noises that could have come from him.
“I’ll take the left side,” Slim said as they stepped away from the window, their eyes on the ground for any clue.
Duncan didn’t have to tell the other ranger what to look for. He knew. A half hour later they’d found nothing. Most of the doors of the alley were securely locked, none had been broken into. The only clue they’d found were several drops of blood that probably belonged to a pack of meat being delivered and not Jeb Tanner.
When they stopped for a minute to plan, Slim rolled a cigarette and said, “We’re in the old part of downtown now.”
Duncan looked at the wood on the side of the building he was leaning against. “Looks pretty new to me.”
“Oh, it is. The original buildings burned back in 1860. Some said the slaves, stirred up by the abolitionists, burned it down. The abolitionists were run out of town and the orders went out claiming every slave in the county had to be whipped.”
“Folks did that?”
Slim shook his head. “I’m sure a few did, but I doubt many would.”
Duncan frowned. He’d been too young to know of slavery before the war. The McMurrays had never had slaves. Any black man who came on the ranch worked for wages just like anyone else. After the war he’d seen freed slaves moving from town to town looking for work. He remembered helping his uncle plow up rows to plant extra food during the war and for a few years after, when it seemed most people didn’t have enough to feed their own family much less the drifters.
“Did you ever own slaves, Slim?” Duncan asked just to give the older man a minute more to rest before they pushed on.
“No.” Slim smiled. “I was too poor.”
“But you fought for the South.”
Slim shrugged. “I guess I thought since Texas joined the Union in ’45, we had a right to leave in ’60 if we wanted to.”
“Still feel that way?”
Slim shook his head. “I gave up feeling years ago. Once in a while I see men still eaten up with the war and I don’t want to be one of them. One night that reporter you talked to was mouthing off in the saloon that the Confederacy will never die like we are going to wake up one morning and everything will be back like it was years go.”
“Would you like that, Slim?”
The older ranger shook his head. “You know what they say about the good old days, kid.”
“What?”
“They weren’t.” He dropped his cigarette and crushed it out. “We’d better get moving.”
Three doors later they found one unlocked, leading into a small saddle shop. If Jeb made it to this door before they overtook him, he might have found his way out, or his way into hiding.
Slim pushed the door open slowly as Duncan stood ready. The back room was lit by one lamp over a worktable. The place was as silent as a tomb. One step inside the room and they saw a little man in a leather apron leaned over his work station. Blood spotted his white hair.
Slim moved closer and touched the old man’s shoulder. “He’s still alive.”
Duncan fanned the shop making sure no one was hiding in the corners, then helped Slim place the old man on a cot near the back. The whole place smelled of leather and pipe smoke and blood.
While Slim ran for a doctor, Duncan knelt beside the injured man. “Can you talk?” he asked, hoping to keep him awake until Slim got back.
The man jerked, then settled when he saw the circle star on Duncan’s chest. “Thank the Lord you’re here. I’ve been attacked.”
Duncan stood and collected towels from a washstand along with a glass of water. The man drank deeply.
It was clear to Duncan that a robber would have little to steal in such a place. When he knelt back beside the man, he asked, “You able to talk now, old fellow?”
“Ja.” The man’s German accent lingered at the corner of his words. “A fella came blowing through the back door like all hell was after him. He grabbed my old flint lock and started hitting me again and again with the butt of the rifle.” The old man let out a cry of pain as Duncan turned his head to see gashes cut to bone on the back of his head.
“Did he rob you?”
“Not that I know of. I passed out after several hits. I do remember hearing him complain about the gun not being loaded.” The old man closed his eyes. “If it had been loaded, he would have shot me. I only keep it by the door to scare off kids thinking of starting a life of crime.”
Duncan wrapped a strip of cloth around his head. “What do you remember about the man?”
The little saddle maker thought for a few minutes and finally said, “Thin. Dirty. When I was passing out, I remember him leaning over me. He smelled bad.”
Duncan knew he’d found Jeb. “Did you see which way he went?”
“No.” He patted Duncan’s hand and closed his eyes. “I think I’ll rest till the doc gets here.”
Duncan went to the front door and waited. There was nothing more he could do for the old man and he couldn’t leave until Slim returned. Jeb Tanner was out there somewhere on the streets, maybe wounded and armed with an unloaded rifle. Someone had helped him make his escape by shooting his brother. Why weren’t they helping him now?
Chapter 16
Main Street
At dusk Stitch drove Miss Rose away from the sheriff’s office and back to the hotel. He told himself he was keeping his word to Duncan by always staying beside her when she stepped out, but Stitch knew it was more than just a job. He liked the little lady. She’d stood up to the sheriff and fought to get all the help she could for her friend.
She seemed frustrated as they drove back to the Grand Hotel. “They have no plan,” Rose complained. “A woman goes missing and all they said was that they saw no evidence of foul play so therefore she must have just walked away. The fact that we are three days away from her wedding seems to be as good a reason to run as any. One of the deputies felt the need to tell me he’d run out on his wedding years ago with the bride walking down the aisle. He bragged that it was the smartest thing he’d done in his life.”
Stitch didn’t say a word. He hadn’t for the past half hour. He’d just gone with Miss Rose from one place to the other trying to find someone to investigate.
“To top it all off,” she continued, “the major seems far more angry than worried. He keeps complaining that this latest spoiled tantrum of Victoria’s would put him behind schedule. I get the feeling he’s more upset about not having a wedding than he is about missing a daughter.”
Stitch had to agree with her there. After making a huge scene at the hotel and demanding the hotel detective find her, Major Chamberlain walked out and hadn’t been seen since. He said he had business that couldn’t be delayed, which Rose foun
d intolerable and said so.
The major’s answer had surprised Rose. He’d told her that his only child was a coward who couldn’t stand up to him. He’d said this wasn’t the first time she’d run and hidden.
Rain was coming down so hard in the wind that it blew sideways. Miss Rose, to his surprise, didn’t seem to notice. She was too busy talking her problems out.
“What am I supposed to do, Stitch? Apparently there isn’t going to be a wedding. Do I follow the bride and vanish, or do I hang around with my flowers in hand and see if she comes back? I don’t even have a dress to wear. Tori took my yellow gown when she ran . . . if she ran. It’s starting to sound unlikely that she’d dress up for the abduction, and in my dress no less. And she didn’t have to steal it—I would have given it to her gladly. Can you imagine asking me to wear a dress with roses on it?”
Stitch smiled. He hadn’t been around women much in his life, but this one was precious. She rattled on like a broken music box, but there was no doubt her heart was in the right place. Miss Rose liked her world in order and a part of him wished he could break his rule of never getting involved and somehow help her out.
“I don’t blame her for running. The major is a bully. I just wish she’d told me. I wish I knew where she was and if she’s safe.” She laughed suddenly. “I wish she’d taken me with her.”
When they pulled up to the north door of the hotel, she turned to him and tugged on his sleeve. “Will you come up to my sitting room, Stitch? You could have lunch out of the rain and I’d feel better having someone there on guard.” She hesitated as if molding a lie. “Hallie’s been frightened by all this. She’s heard there have been women killed lately.”
“I’ll take care of the horses and come up the back way. They know me and always let me circle where most folks aren’t allowed to go.” He grinned and followed her lie. “You tell Hallie not to worry. I’ll be there as quick as I can.”
He watched the little lady run through the rain to the door. She had more grit than most men he knew. She’d stood up to the sheriff and told him exactly what he needed to do. When he’d ignored her, Stitch felt anger building in him for the first time in a long while. She might not know it, but she was brave and smart, even if she was afraid of being alone.
Stitch decided to board his horses at the livery. He wouldn’t be needing them for the rest of the day and they deserved a dry place to stay. When he made it up to Miss Rose’s sitting room, Hallie told him to leave his wet coat by the fire and try not to get mud on anything. She didn’t act the least bit glad to see him or grateful he’d come to stand guard.
Even though he growled at her, Stitch knew he didn’t frighten her at all. They might have agreed not to talk, but that didn’t mean she planned to stop feeding him. She pulled a ladder-back chair by the fire and set a little table beside him with a hot cup of coffee made strong. The great luxury of having someone do for him made him smile even if Hallie’s tone was sharp.
“Thank you kindly,” he said simply.
Hallie straightened suddenly as if his gratitude shocked her. “You are welcome,” she finally said in a softer tone than she’d ever used when talking to him.
Rose came out of the other room. She’d changed into dry clothes but was still storming about the lack of support from law enforcement. She sat down at the little desk and began to make a list of possible places where Victoria might hide.
After Hallie served them both a bowl of chili, she gathered her sewing and sat across from Stitch near the fireplace. Though she never looked up at him, he watched her. Her dress was all proper, but he couldn’t help remembering how pretty her skin had been the other morning. The thin robe she’d answered the door in hadn’t hidden her well-rounded breasts or the way her chubby body curved. Hallie’s words might be hard, but her body appeared soft and touchable all over.
He laughed to himself. If he weren’t careful, he’d be spending his hard-earned money just to watch her undress and dress. If fact, if she knew what he was thinking, she’d probably charge him for the daydream.
By midafternoon the storm still raged and Rose was busy writing letters. Stitch stepped out onto the balcony to smoke. The awning held back the rain but not the wind, and the sun seemed to have given up for the day. As always, Stitch moved into the shadows trying his best to make his big frame invisible. Over the years he knew most of the regulars who stayed at the hotel. Most he recognized by sight.
As he watched, a man stepped from the room next to Rose’s and walked toward Stitch. It took him a minute to recognize Killian O’Toole with his hat low and his collar high. The woman curled beneath his arm was completely covered in a black coat with a lining of fur framing the hood. They looked like any couple rushing through the weather.
For a moment, Stitch started to step out blocking their path, but he hesitated. Stitch wasn’t a man who spoke to many folks unless he had to. He pulled back against the wall, hoping they wouldn’t see him.
As they passed, the wind caught the hem of the lady’s coat and Stitch saw a flash of yellow before they began descending down the steps to the garden.
Without giving it any thought, Stitch followed the couple. Thanks to the rain, they wouldn’t be able to see him even if they happened to look back, but he kept them in his sight. They crossed through the garden gate and rushed across the alley to the back of a business.
Stitch let them disappear inside, then waited a full minute before opening the unlocked door and following.
The storage room he moved into was dark and dusty. At one time it had been a huge kitchen behind a bakery. Stitch followed their wet footprints to a long hallway. At the base of the stairs were crates of supplies, and light shone down from above.
Stitch pressed against the wall when he heard someone running down the stairs. A moment later a man stepped from a doorway, leading to what looked like the mercantile.
“You all set, O’Toole?”
“All set. Thanks again, Abe. I think we may have just saved her life. If it hadn’t been for the storm, I don’t know how I would have ever smuggled her out of the hotel. Without you, I’m not sure where we would have gone. I heard her father has every road out of town watched and a woman like her doesn’t check into a hotel without being noticed.”
“Glad I could be of help.”
When the store owner limped away, Stitch knew who he was. Abe Henderson. The man Killian sometimes talked too early in the morning. Stitch had seen them many times over the years as they drank coffee in front of the store a block away from the hotel. A few early mornings, when shadows were long, he’d moved to the edge of the alley and listened.
Without making a sound, Stitch now retraced his steps back into the kitchen and out the back door. He walked slowly through the rain trying to decide what to do. The woman in the yellow dress didn’t look like she was being kidnapped. A judge wouldn’t do that anyway. Killian would never break the law, not unless he had a real good reason.
Stitch figured he had two choices: Forget what he saw, or tell Miss Rose.
When he stepped back into the sitting room, Stitch almost yelped in surprise when he saw a man snoring on the settee. He was tall and well dressed, looking very much like a gentleman except for the ink stains on his hands.
“Hush now, Stitch, don’t wake the man up.” Hallie grumbled and frowned at the guest as if he were a possum who’d gotten in the house. “He came in here all a rage. I don’t want him awake till my ears recover from the noise.”
“Who is he?” Stitch whispered.
“The bridegroom. He finally made it here an hour ago and came in to find his bride is missing. Poor man almost exploded, and if he had, you-know-who would have had to clean up the mess. Me.” She looked at Stitch’s wet clothes. “You looked like you almost drowned having a smoke. Maybe you should give up the habit.”
“She wasn’t kidnapped. She went of her own free will,” Stitch said before he thought. “And I already told you, woman, stay out of my life.”
She didn’t take offense at his order. “You’re probably right about the kidnapping. If she knew this one was coming, she might have vanished. After listening to him for ten minutes I’d rather run away and live with the Apache than have to hear more of his high-and-mighty talk. He orders everyone around and was more upset that his room had been canceled than the fact that his bride was missing. Housekeeping promised to find him a place, but for right now we seem to be stuck with him. I swear Miss Rose’s room is busier than a whorehouse on pay day.”
Stitch noticed the bottle by the gentleman’s head. “He been drinking?”
“Constantly. Told me to be sure and wake him as soon as the major got back from wherever he went. Like I was a clock and should just stand by chiming the hour.”
Stitch laughed, glad she was picking on another male for a change and not him. “Where’s Miss Rose?”
“She tried to talk to this one. The third time he interrupted her, she stood and walked like a lady out of the room and closed her door.” Hallie giggled. “Only I swear I heard her let out a few not-so-ladylike words once she was out of his sight. Mr. Myers here might have heard them if he hadn’t been busy ranting about how everything in this world is unfair. He was acting like God planned Miss Victoria’s disappearance just to irritate him. I think maybe we should find whoever took her and demand he take the set of bride and groom. He needs to vanish as well.”
“I could make that happen,” Stitch said in a low voice. “I could lift him, couch and all, off the balcony. He’s a good-sized man. Make quite a splat down in the garden.”
Hallie smacked her lips. “Why, Stitch, when you say sweet things like that you warm my heart.”
“Really?”
“No, not really. I don’t have a heart.” She took his hand and placed it between her breasts. “You want to try to feel it beating?”
Stitch froze, his big hand over her very proper uniform front. “I can’t,” he finally managed to say. “Mine is pounding too hard for me to feel anything.” He met her eyes and wondered if she were flirting or teasing him. Women didn’t usually come near him much less talk to him, and he had a strong feeling women never lifted a man’s hand and put it on top of their breasts.