A Worthy Pursuit

  Tears moistened Charlotte’s eyes. Never would she let this boy think he was anything less than exceptional. At this moment, she truly believed him the single most exceptional youth the Sullivan Academy had ever produced. “It’s a brilliant plan, Stephen. Absolutely brilliant.” And undoubtedly God-sent.

  Stephen turned to face her, his eyes alight with pride and a hope so fierce it brought her own flagging coals flaring back to life.

  “This will work,” she said, blinking away the dampness from her eyes. She smiled at Stephen then glanced over her shoulder to nod encouragingly at John, who was busy picking at the tie at her wrists. “I’m sure of it.”

  John offered a timid smile in answer then went back to work.

  Charlotte bit her lip. She wasn’t truly sure of anything, but for the first time in a long while, she was willing to hope for the best instead of expecting the worst.

  Stone stretched out on his bed and propped his hands behind his head. Sounds from the bunkhouse filtered over him. The click of poker chips and the occasional ruffle of cards from the game in the back corner. The snores from the hands who had early-morning patrol duty. Even the scratch of pen on paper from a lovesick young pup trying desperately to write a half-decent line of poetry for the town girl he was courting. Masculine sounds. Comfortable, easy, familiar. So why couldn’t he fall asleep?

  Because he didn’t want to sleep among a bunch of hairy-faced men who smelled like sweat and smoke, who thought nothing of belching and scratching and walking around in their drawers. He wanted a fussy, prim-and-proper woman who smelled of lilies and fit perfectly against his side during a sunset stroll. He wanted children around him—girls who dreamed about riding herd on outlaws, and boys who built crazy contraptions or who rarely made a sound unless they sat at a piano and spit out jaw-dropping masterpieces. That’s what he wanted surrounding him at night. A family.

  “You ever think about gettin’ your own spread, Dan?” Stone asked in a voice that would carry no farther than the bunk beside his. “Settlin’ down with a good woman and havin’ some kids?”

  “Don’t know about the woman and kids part, but I do got my eye on a piece of land not far from here. Thought about training mules. Sold a few in the past, and I keep getting requests for more. Hawkins lets me train ’em in my spare time, but I won’t really be able to make a go of it unless I strike out on my own.”

  Stone slanted a glance at his friend. Something about the way he avoided the discussion of a wife added to Stone’s earlier suspicion about Marietta Hawkins. “Seems like a sound plan for a man who’s never met a horse he couldn’t tame,” he probed. “You could make a good living that way. Easily provide for a wife—”

  “It ain’t the providin’ that’s the issue,” Dan growled. “It’s—” He never got to finish, for the door to the bunkhouse swung open on its hinges so hard it slammed into the side wall.

  “Stone! I need Stone!”

  He was on his feet, gun in hand, running toward her before the words even left her mouth. All it had taken was one glance to know something was terribly wrong.

  His prim-and-proper teacher had just barged into a bunkhouse full of strange men in nothing more than her nightclothes.

  26

  “I’m here, Lottie.” Stone reached her side in an instant. Knowing Dan would have his back, he holstered his weapons and opened his arms to her, wanting—no, needing—to be her anchor. But Charlotte apparently had no desire for comfort, for she grabbed his wrist and started dragging him quite forcibly from the bunkhouse.

  “Hurry, Stone! You must go after her. It took longer for Stephen to free the pins than we’d hoped. They have nearly an hour’s lead on you.”

  Had she hit her head? The woman was talking gibberish. Her grip hadn’t suffered any ill effects, though. She continued tugging at his arm even though he was already trotting after her like a faithful hound.

  “Charlotte. Stop.” He planted his feet. “I can’t help you unless I know what’s wrong.”

  She tugged again, deaf to his demand. “There’s no time. I sent the boys to the stable to wake the hand on duty. He should be saddling Goliath and Ranger even now.” When Stone didn’t move, she reached back and grabbed hold of him with a second hand, her sleeves sliding up her arms. Angry red marks glared up at him from around her wrists. Binding marks.

  Stone snatched her hands from his arm and held up her wrists. Rage—searing hot and seething—roiled in his gut. “Who did this to you?” His jaw clenched so tight he almost couldn’t get the words out.

  Charlotte wrenched her arms free of his hold. “The men who took Lily!” The name escaped her on a sob, and finally Stone understood.

  “Franklin.” How had the man gotten onto the ranch?

  Charlotte shook her head, her dark blond hair flying about her shoulders as she pinched her lips together and stuffed her emotion back down. “Not Franklin. One of the men who attacked us on the road. And a Double H man.”

  “Who?” Dan’s sharp voice behind Stone pierced the conversation like an arrow through an apple.

  Charlotte’s gaze snapped over to him. “Jimmy.”

  Dan’s eyes glowed with fury. Someone was about to lose his job—and his hide. Stone would gladly volunteer to help dole out the punishment.

  “They’re taking Lily to Franklin right now,” Charlotte said. “Stephen and I fought them as best we could, but they were too strong. They must be taking her back to town. Winston said Franklin was expecting them. You have to catch them and bring her back. You have to.”

  Charlotte wrapped her arms around her middle as the night wind buffeted her white cotton sleeping gown. The outer covering fluttered behind her, doing nothing to stave off the chill of the air. She looked so lost, so scared, so heartsick. Yet there was a fierceness about her, too. A fierceness that demanded he retrieve that which she held most precious. A fierceness that fully expected him to succeed.

  Stone straightened. He would succeed, God help him. He’d not stop until he had Lily safely back in Charlotte’s arms.

  He lunged forward and captured Charlotte in his embrace. “I’ll get her back for you, Lottie. I swear it.” He pressed his cheek to hers, rasping his vow in her ear as he crushed her to his chest.

  “I know you will.” She leaned into him, making no effort to pull away. “I trust you.”

  Those three words nearly felled him. Yet at the same time, they galvanized him like a lightning bolt sparking a prairie fire. He longed to let the flames rage out of control, but he couldn’t risk Lily being burned in the process. So he banked the fires just enough to see clearly through the smoky haze. He needed speed. Action. But his best chance of retrieving Lily unscathed required strategy.

  The stable hand emerged from the barn at that moment, leading Goliath and Ranger, both saddled and ready to ride. The horses pawed at the ground and shook their heads as if sensing the tension around them. They knew what was to come. Stone squeezed Charlotte’s middle then released her. Jaw set, he strode for his horse.

  Dan tossed him his ammunition belt, his custom shoulder holster, and the knives he’d left in the storage chest by his bunk, then he moved to the horses and shoved rifles into the boots of each of their saddles. Another cowboy jogged forward with Stone’s duster and hat. In less than a minute, Stone was geared up and atop Goliath. He cast a final glance to Charlotte and found a boy on either side of her, all six eyes imploring him to bring Lily back to them.

  “She’s expecting you, Mr. Hammond,” Stephen called out. “She’ll be ready.”

  Stone gave a sharp nod. He’d not let them down.

  “There’s a saloon in Steward’s Mill,” Dan said as he circled Ranger close to Stone. “One of the few places open this time of night. Logical place for a rendezvous.”

  Stone forced his gaze from Charlotte’s to the road before him. “Lead the way.” He touched his heels to Goliath’s sides and set out at as fast a pace as the moonlit night would allow.

  Thirty minutes later, they pull
ed their mounts to a halt in front of the saloon. “Do you see the wagon?” Stone asked as he swung his leg over Goliath’s back and found the ground.

  Dan scoured the overcrowded street and alleyway. Seemed the Lonely Coyote wasn’t so lonely, even on a Tuesday. Stone looked over the single horses and frowned. The one he most wanted to see wasn’t there. Franklin’s palomino. Flashy bit of horseflesh—white mane and tail that would fairly glow under the three-quarter moon that lit the night sky. Unless Franklin had opted to disguise his presence by renting a livery nag, they were too late. Lily had already been handed over.

  “There.” Dan cut into his thoughts and pointed to a weathered farm wagon just peeking out around the corner. “That’s Double H stock.” Dan dismounted and cut a path through the horses at the hitching post. Stone followed.

  When they neared the team, the horse closest to them nickered and lifted his head in greeting, having recognized Dan’s scent. Dan cupped a hand over the sorrel’s nose and whispered to him. The animal stilled.

  Plenty familiar with Dan’s effect on four-legged creatures, Stone didn’t linger to watch the exchange. He sidled past the horses, scraping his back against the brick of the building until he reached the wagon bed. Planting a booted foot on a wheel spoke, he grabbed the side and hoisted himself up. Nothing. He hadn’t really expected to find her there, but the disappointment was sharp nonetheless.

  “She’s not here,” Stone informed Dan in a flat voice.

  Which meant she was already with Franklin. Hang it all! Stone slammed his palm against the wagon’s side. If that hulking brute harmed one hair on Lily’s head, he’d— Stone inhaled and forced the rising panic back into subjugation. Franklin wouldn’t hurt her. She was worth too much. The bit of logic did little to soothe him, though. Franklin wasn’t the problem. Dorchester was. And the longer the lead Franklin stretched out, the slimmer their chance of retrieving Lily before she reached Houston. Once under her grandfather’s control, it would take a legal battle to get her back.

  Stone hopped down from the wagon and squeezed his way out of the alley, his narrowed gaze zeroed in on Dan’s back. He needed to focus on the problem at hand. Gather information. Sniff out the trail. “Let’s hope Winston and Jimmy decided to spend some of their ill-gotten gains before headin’ out tonight.” He clapped Dan on the shoulder. “Should we take a gander inside?”

  Dan nodded, a half smile curving his lips. “After you.”

  Stone pushed through the batwing doors and slid along the front wall, keeping his back pressed against the paneling. He scanned the faces. One after another. At the bar. At the tables. The men wore hats, some pulled low over their faces, making it hard to distinguish their features. But the hat with the leather band in the back corner looked familiar. Stone studied its wearer. It could be one of the men who’d waylaid them on the road, but he couldn’t be sure. Not without seeing the man’s face.

  The man turned over his cards, grinned at his comrades, then started scraping the pot toward his belly with both hands. “I knew my luck had turned!” He lifted his face to make his boast, and Stone’s gut clenched.

  It was him. The one who’d held a gun to Stephen’s head. The one who’d terrorized Charlotte.

  Stone pushed off the wall and marched straight for the back table. A girl carrying drinks started to approach, took one look at his face, and ran for the bar. When he reached the table, he didn’t slow. He scooped up Winston with a hand to his throat, lifted his feet from the ground, then pinned him against the back wall. “Your luck’s turnin’ again, Winston,” Stone ground out. “And this time it might never recover.”

  The man’s eyes flew wide. “Y-you!” he croaked.

  “Yep. Me.” Stone pulled one of the knives from his belt and gave the fellow a bit of an impromptu shave, taking care to nick his jaw. “And if you want to survive this here introduction, I suggest you tell me where the girl is.” He nicked him again. “Fast.”

  The sounds of scraping chairs and hurried feet echoed behind him as the poker table emptied.

  Winston stiffened, his eyes narrowing at something behind Stone. “My winnings,” he rasped.

  “Are the least of your worries.” Stone tightened his grip on the man’s throat and successfully regained his attention.

  “Found the other one, Stone,” Dan called out.

  “Since you found what you’re lookin’ for, Dan,” the man behind the bar said, his deep, booming voice carrying through the room nearly as effectively as the sound of his shotgun hitting the counter, “I’d appreciate it if you’d do your talkin’ outside my establishment.”

  “Happy to, Buck.” Dan started dragging Winston’s companion toward the entrance. “Coming, Stone?”

  “Yep.” Stone jerked Winston away from the wall and released his neck. While the man staggered to regain his balance, Stone grabbed hold of his right arm and twisted it behind his back. Winston groaned but put up no resistance as Stone shoved him forward.

  Stone glared at the lanky kid in Dan’s grasp as he rounded the corner to join his partner in the alley. He might not be a day over seventeen, but he’d been big enough to manhandle Charlotte and the kids. That meant he was big enough to pay the consequences for his actions.

  The kid swallowed hard. “I-I’m sorry, boss. I didn’t want to, but Winston said the girl had been kidnapped.”

  “And instead of coming to me with your concerns, Jimmy, you broke into my cabin, roughed up a woman and three children under my protection, and sold an innocent girl to a man you’ve never met?” Dan demanded. “I ought to string you up and save the county the expense of a trial.”

  Jimmy paled. “It was all Winston’s doing, I swear,” the kid blurted. “He bullied me into it just like he did when we were kids.”

  “Shut up, runt,” Winston growled. Stone twisted the man’s arm a little harder. He arched his back and fell to his knees. If the kid felt like talking, Stone wasn’t going to let big brother interfere.

  Dan gave Jimmy a little shove, throwing him back against the alley wall. “Well, as it turns out, Miss Atherton is Lily Dorchester’s legal guardian. She has papers to prove it.” He jabbed the boy’s chest with his finger. “Which means you and Winston here are the ones guilty of kidnapping. I hope the money jingling in your pocket was worth the time you’ll be spending in jail.”

  Dawning horror spread over Jimmy’s face. “J-jail?”

  “Yep.” Dan glanced down at his feet and shrugged. “’Course, if one of you were to tell us everything you knew about Walt Franklin and his plans for the girl, we might be willing to put in a good word for you with the marshal.”

  “H-he took her and rode out. I don’t know where.” Jimmy all but tripped over himself in his eagerness to gain Dan’s goodwill.

  “That’s not good enough.” Dan met the boy’s eyes, his hard features leaving no room for mercy.

  The kid glanced toward the sky, as if searching the expanse for something useful to pass along. Then he snapped his fingers and grinned. “I heard him say something about needing to fetch his things from the Commercial and catching the morning train.”

  Dan turned to Stone. “The Commercial Hotel. In Corsicana. If he’s riding double with the girl, we can make up some ground on him.”

  “He only left about fifteen or twenty minutes ago,” Winston grunted, obviously trying to get in on the deal. “If you leave now, you’ve got a chance. Better hurry, though. If you wait for the marshal, ya might not catch ’em.”

  “No need to wait, fellas. I’m here.”

  Stone glanced over his shoulder and nodded at the lawman striding into the alley. “Toby.”

  The marshal fingered the brim of his Stetson. “Stone. Dan.” His casual glance passed over the other two men. “Buck sent a messenger to fetch me. Said there was some trouble brewin’. Am I gonna find posters for these two back in my office? Been a while since you two brought me a bounty.”

  “You might find something on this one,” Stone said as he hauled Winston t
o his feet, “but right now I ain’t interested in collecting. I got to retrieve the little girl these yahoos kidnapped before she gets on a train in the morning.” He shoved Winston at the marshal. Toby caught him with no difficulty. “Lock these two up for kidnapping and assault. We’ll stop by on our way back to give a statement.”

  The lawman nodded even as Winston started sputtering.

  “Assault? We didn’t hurt no one. Just tied up the teacher and the kids and nailed the doors and shutters closed so they couldn’t escape until morning.”

  Stone’s fists itched to pummel the man just for touching Charlotte, to crush him with blow after blow until he lay as helpless and powerless on the dirt street as he’d made Charlotte feel in that cabin. “I’m sure they just sat idly by and let you bind them,” he ground out, his sarcasm slicing like the blade he wished he could wield. “No struggle. No fight. No need for you to use force.”

  His gut churned at the images flooding his brain. Lily crying and terrified. Charlotte brave and desperate, fighting off two men all on her own. Stephen trying to be a man but being too young to defend the women. And John. Poor kid probably wouldn’t talk for weeks after the fright he’d had.

  Then all at once, Winston’s words hit him. He’d nailed the door shut? And the storm shutters? In his hurry to leave, Stone hadn’t paid the cabin any heed. It was a miracle Charlotte and the boys had escaped. Charlotte’s ramblings about Stephen freeing the pins finally clicked. The boy had taken the door off its hinges. That’s how they’d gotten out. Thank God for smart kids.

  “I’ll hold ’em for ya, Stone.” The marshal fastened a pair of handcuffs around Winston’s wrists then looked at Jimmy. “Ya gonna come quietly, son, or do I have to chain you, too?”