Mark dropped the ax, grabbed the rope at his waist, and reeled himself in as fast as he could while stumbling through the black cavern.
A deafening roar exploded in his ears. A herculean force picked him up and threw him forward, slamming his body into a wall. The earth quaked. Rocks fell like rain. And Mark’s heart called out to his beloved.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-FIVE
Katherine sat bolt upright in bed. Her heart pounded, but she had no idea why. She glanced around the bedroom she shared with Eliza but spotted nothing that would have awakened her. Eliza wasn’t even in the room. Katherine had left her tending to Jonah in the front parlor when she’d finally forced herself to try to get some sleep.
Thank you for bringing Jonah back to her. Katherine knew her friend was more than a little in love with Mr. Brooks. She’d never admit as much, not after only knowing him a couple of weeks, but only something as strong as love could have broken through her fear and gotten her on that horse.
Katherine threw off the covers and pivoted to dangle her legs off the side of the bed. I’d do the same for Mark. The thought froze her in place, her toes halting halfway to the carpet. Was that why she woke? Was there something she needed to do to help Mark? But what? What could she possibly do in the dead of night?
They’d already called Deputy Bronson to the house at Jonah’s insistence. Jonah had refused any medical care until he’d told the lawman everything he knew about Mark and the men who had attacked them. Miguel Ortega and his spotted horse. His white partner who rode a dun mount with a nicked hoof and a recent injury to its flank. The precise location on Packsaddle Mountain where they’d been ambushed. A description of Mark’s horse. The deputy had vowed to pull together a group of men and start searching at first light.
She’d also received a telegram from Matthew Hanger. He’d be arriving on the morning train. Help was coming from all over. Capable help. Experienced help. She’d prayed herself to sleep, believing that to be the best assistance she could contribute, but now an unsettling urgency drove her out of bed and toward the chair where she’d tossed her clothes a couple of hours ago.
Is this you, Lord, or is my worry goading me? Not sure of the answer, she hesitated, but the urge to dress was too strong to ignore. It had to be the Lord. Worry might have the power to keep her from falling asleep, but it had never woken her in such dramatic fashion. God must be calling her to action.
With hurried hands, she threw off her nightgown and grabbed her camisole and drawers. Not wanting to take the time to lace a corset, she left the undergarment on the back of the chair and pulled one of her looser dresses from the wardrobe. Petticoat, stockings, and shoes were essential, but she left her hair hanging down her back in her sleeping braid.
The door hinge squeaked as she exited into the hall. A shadow positioned between her and the stairs moved suddenly, causing her to clap a hand over her mouth to keep from waking the entire household with her fright.
“Miss Katherine?” a sleep-filled voice queried.
Her hand slid from her mouth to cover her pounding heart. “Good heavens, Abner. You gave me a scare. What are you doing lying in the hall?”
The boy pushed to his feet, something long dangling from his right hand. Mercy! Was that a fireplace poker?
“Someone’s gotta watch out for the womenfolk with Mr. Wallace missing and Mr. Brooks all banged up.”
Katherine’s heart warmed at his concern. He was too young to carry such responsibility, yet she loved him for it. She hunkered down next to him and smiled. “You are very brave.” She brushed the hair from his forehead. “Thank you for watching over us. I’m sure the men who attacked Mr. Wallace and Mr. Brooks are far away by now, though. Making their escape so the law won’t catch them when the search party sets out in the morning. I think it’s safe for you to go back to bed.”
He didn’t argue with her, but neither did he agree. He just held his tongue and tilted his chin in that stubborn way he had when planning to go his own way. Well, she had her own way to go at the moment too, so if he wanted to pass the rest of the night in the hall, she wouldn’t stop him.
Straightening, she patted his shoulder and headed for the stairs. At the bottom, she diverted to the parlor and peeked inside. She needed to let Eliza know that she was leaving, especially since she had no idea how long she would be gone. But when she saw her friend dozing in a chair drawn close to the sofa where Jonah slept, she didn’t have the heart to intrude. Jonah’s sleep did not look easy. His mouth turned down and a muffled moan escaped him, as if the pain from his injuries impaired his rest. Or perhaps the discomfort stemmed from fretful dreams of the attack and what had happened to Mark. She could certainly relate to the latter.
At the sound of his moan, Eliza’s hand moved to stroke his chest. He quieted immediately, his own hand finding hers in sleep and clutching her fingers close to his heart.
Stepping softly to the small table in the corner, Katherine found the telegram from Matthew Hanger right where she’d left it after showing it to Jonah. She flipped it over, pulled a pencil from the table drawer, and scribbled a short note to Eliza.
There was one person no one had taken the time to chase down after all the excitement this evening. One who might slip past the deputy’s notice because of her gender. One who might actually know something about what had happened to Mark.
One who was about to entertain an uninvited midnight caller.
Katherine set the note in a visible place on the table, then slipped out into the night. The half-moon illuminated the yard enough for her to find her way to the barn to collect the lantern they kept ready by the door. A strike of a match later, she was armed with light and ready to trudge through the darkness to seek answers.
So full of purpose was she that she didn’t even think to be afraid. Not until she entered town and heard a clatter behind her. She spun toward the sound and held her lantern aloft, but she saw no one. Telling herself it was probably just a coon getting into some nighttime mischief, she turned forward again and continued her march to Althea Gordon’s residence. Yet her steps weren’t quite as sure as they had been. Doubts seeped into her mind.
What was she doing, walking the streets in the middle of the night? The darkness that a moment ago had shrunk back from her light now seemed to creep forward, casting unsettling shadows. What wickedness loomed behind that building? What danger stalked her from the trees? She was just a woman. Unescorted. Unarmed.
Her hand trembled as she held the lantern in front of her. “‘Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,’” she murmured softly, “‘I will fear no evil: for thou art with me.’”
Thou art with me.
Katherine straightened her shoulders as she internalized the promise. Her stride lengthened. Her chin lifted.
I will fear no evil.
This was not the time for timidity. Mark was out there somewhere. Probably injured. Alone. He had sprinted directly toward a speeding train in order to save her life. She could walk through a bit of darkness for him.
Katherine clutched the lantern with renewed determination. God had awoken her. Sent her. She wouldn’t quail in the valley of shadows. He was with her. And no darkness could withstand his light.
Yet when she reached the small house Althea Gordon rented on the south side of town, a different light drew Katherine up short. A light from the back of the house. From within. Katherine glanced around. No other houses occupied this section of town. A few businesses stood nearby, but they were closed up tight for the night. No one would notice her skulking about. She turned down the wick on her lantern and used the darkness as an ally to conceal her presence as she slipped around the corner of the building to investigate.
Althea was awake. And moving around, judging by the silhouette that occasionally darkened the bedroom curtain. Did she know someone suspected her of being involved with the snatchers? Did she plan to sneak out of town in the dead of night? If she succeeded, what would become of t
he missing children? Of Mark? Would they remain lost forever?
Katherine couldn’t allow that to happen.
Setting her lantern on the ground by the back stoop, Katherine reached for the narrow railing and crept up the back stairs. She fit her hand to the latch. The door opened.
Katherine stepped inside the small kitchen and closed the door softly behind her.
“It’s about time you got back,” Althea called from another room. Her bedchamber, most likely. “I’m nearly packed. The smith didn’t haggle over the amount again, did he? I don’t mind paying extra for his discretion, but if he thinks to extort me, I’ll send Miguel after him.”
Miguel. Althea was involved! Katherine crossed the kitchen, taking care not to click her heels on the wooden floor. Not only involved, but the way she talked about ordering Miguel around, she might actually be the person in charge.
“He and Dorsey should have destroyed the evidence by now. I hated to collapse the mine, but it couldn’t be helped. Production was pitiful anyway. Daddy will be disappointed, but he’ll understand. I left enough raw ore at the site to cover the men’s share, so we need never see them again. Everything’s going to plan. We need only to—”
Althea appeared in the doorway, a pile of petticoats in her hands. Her eyes widened in surprise at seeing Katherine, but they normalized quickly. She tossed her armload of undergarments onto the bed, then casually stepped into the hall.
“Miss Palmer. Have you taken up housebreaking, then? I must say, I didn’t think you had it in you.”
“Where’s Mark?” Katherine demanded, doing her best to ignore the gooseflesh prickling uneasily across her nape.
“You mean that handsome Mr. Wallace?” Althea smirked as she leaned a hip against the side wall. “Gone, I suppose. I saw him leave town this morning with that partner of his. I don’t expect they’ll be back.”
Katherine’s heart clenched. Her distress must have shown on her face, for a flash of triumph flared in Althea’s eyes.
Something raw and fierce surged inside Katherine in response. “You’re wrong, Althea. Mr. Brooks did return. And he had quite a tale to tell.”
Uncertainty flickered in the teacher’s eyes, but only for a moment. “Did he? And who exactly did he tell this tale to? You, I suppose?”
“And Deputy Bronson. A search party will be leaving at first light.”
Althea smiled. “Oh, I don’t think so, dear.”
Katherine heard the scuff of shoe leather on wood a moment too late. A man grabbed her from behind, one hand snaking around her middle and lifting her off the ground as the other closed over her mouth to muffle her scream.
“You see,” Althea said, pushing away from the wall to saunter forward like a tigress inspecting the injured prey her cub had just dropped at her feet, “Deputy Bronson works for me.”
CHAPTER
THIRTY-SIX
What d’ya want me to do with her, sis?”
Sis? Katherine’s struggling stuttered to a halt. She looked up. Examined Althea’s hair and eyes. The shape of her face. The deputy had similar coloring. Both were tall and slender. Their eyes were different, though. Deputy Bronson had brown eyes, while Althea’s were green. His face was longer and more pointed too. Yet a resemblance existed . . . if one knew to look for it.
“Tie her up and stuff her in the pantry for now.” Althea gestured toward the kitchen. “We’ll have to take her with us. We can drop her off at Miguel’s camp, let him deal with her.”
“That’ll add time to our trip,” the deputy grumbled. “We’re already gonna have to lead the team with lanterns all the way to Llano.”
“Quit your complaining, Ernest. The train doesn’t leave until nine, and we only have to use the lanterns until dawn. We’ve got time for a short side trip.” Althea shot a glare at Katherine. “We can’t leave her around to tell people what she knows.” She shook her head and made a tsk sound. “You really shouldn’t have stuck your nose where it didn’t belong, Miss Palmer.”
“How could you?” Katherine’s angry question sounded more like Ow ood oo with the deputy’s hand covering her mouth, but talking caused one of the deputy’s fingers to slip between her lips. Katherine immediately bit down.
“Ow!” The deputy yanked his hand away from her face. Unfortunately, he had enough presence of mind to maintain his grip on her midsection. In fact, when she didn’t start screaming, he opted to secure both her arms behind her with his hands.
Screaming would only lead to a gag being applied, and Katherine needed to learn as much information about Mark and the missing boys as possible. Escape could wait.
“You’re a teacher,” Katherine spat at Althea while Bronson dragged her backward. “You’re supposed to protect children. Nurture them. How could you participate in their abduction?”
“Participate?” A humorless laugh erupted from Althea. “I’ll have you know I never abducted a single child.” Her arrogant smile turned Katherine’s stomach. “I did, however, orchestrate the entire endeavor.”
And was apparently proud of that shameful accomplishment.
“Why?” Katherine cried. “For money?” She’d mentioned a mine. And a smith. Was she using the boys to dig for gold? Silver?
“For my father!”
The passion behind that pronouncement surprised Katherine.
Althea advanced on her, eyes flashing. “He’s searched for Los Almagres his entire adult life. It’s his obsession. He raised me with stories of Bernardo de Miranda’s discovery of rich ore in the cerro de almagre in 1756. Taught me about the Apache mission and the presidio captain tasked with working the mine they found. About the giant pile of slag left behind by the Spaniards on the San Saba River near the presidio. About the destruction of the mission in 1758 and the Apache raids years later that discouraged treasure seekers.”
Her arms gesticulated as if to add extra punctuation to her tale. “Father collected maps by Stephen F. Austin and Henry Tanner showing mines near the old Spanish fort, pamphlets promising silver to immigrants, and Texas information guides declaring the existence of Los Almagres. Finding that mine was his life’s work, but no matter how carefully he searched, he never found it. The failure broke him.” Her hands fell to her sides, and her shoulders hunched forward. “He took to his bed five years ago and has been slowly dying ever since, sure he’s wasted his life on a fool’s errand. Certain that Los Almagres never existed.”
Althea’s posture straightened, and she took a step closer to Katherine. “But it does exist, and I can prove it with the silver we’ve collected. All those years, he’d been looking in the wrong places,” she said with a cynical laugh, “because the maps were wrong. I widened the search into Llano County. Studied local history. Combed through ore samples and assay reports. Everyone believed the mine was located near either the San Saba or Llano Rivers, but I began to suspect the true location was near Honey Creek. That led me to Packsaddle Mountain.
“I used my mother’s maiden name, took a teaching job in Kingsland, and continued my search with no one the wiser. Ernest cozied up to the sheriff in Llano and got himself appointed deputy a few months later. We kept our familial relationship a secret, and no one suspected we were anything more than acquaintances. We searched on weekends and during the off-terms for more than a year, and then, six months ago, we found the mine’s entrance on the southern slope of Packsaddle Mountain.
“We excavated the archaeological remains of spoil piles and shafts. Discovered the paths the Spaniards left behind. Some of those paths, however, proved too narrow for adults to navigate. Hence our need for smaller bodies. If the Spaniards used boys to work their mines, I’d do the same. But not for riches, Miss Palmer. For my father. I would not let him die thinking himself a failure.”
Moisture glistened in Althea’s eyes, but she ruthlessly blinked it away. Her gaze hardened. “Make no mistake,” she said without a speck of compassion or conscience coloring her voice, “I’ll do whatever it takes to see this through. No matter how man
y indigent children or interfering busybodies have to disappear.”
A shiver coursed over Katherine’s skin as Ernest yanked her wrists together behind her back and bound them with some kind of cloth strip. A movement at the back window drew her attention. Half a face appeared at the window. The bottom of the window. She couldn’t see much of him in the dark, but she recognized the discolored section of skin on the top right side of his face.
Abner! He’d followed her.
She locked her gaze with his and shook her head. Just once, but hopefully it would be enough to keep him from doing anything rash like storming the house and taking on two criminal adults with only a fireplace poker. As she watched, a small, dark-skinned hand grabbed Abner from behind and pulled him away. Rawley? Thank heavens Abner wasn’t alone. She didn’t like the idea of either one of the boys so close to danger, but if they were close enough to overhear, they could pass the information on to Eliza and Jonah.
She had to keep Althea talking while she had the chance. Any minute now, she’d find herself stuffed in a pantry closet, no further good to anyone.
“Is that what happened to Mark?” Katherine pulled against her bindings, lurching toward Althea. Ernest jerked her back with a rough motion, gripping her arms to keep her still. But Ernest wasn’t her concern. Althea was. “Did Mark interfere with your plans? Did he stumble across your mining operation in his search for the boys?”
“I tried to warn him off,” Althea said. “Asked him to wait a day. But like most men, he wouldn’t listen to a woman. And now he’s paid the price.” She shrugged. “Unfortunate waste of a good-looking man, but it couldn’t be helped. He found his missing boys, though. He’ll be happy about that. Just like my father, he’ll die knowing he completed his mission. Small comfort, but it’s better than nothing.”
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