A Worthy Pursuit
Still, Stone pinned his stare on the man, not taking any chances. He didn’t look away until the whistle blew and the train chugged past the station. Only when the Houston & Texas Central Railway sported nothing but empty tracks as far as his eye could see did Stone give up his vigil and head back to the livery, one gun heavier than when he’d started out.
Frank Root, the livery owner, met Stone at the stable door. “Barrett took the girl to my place.” He pointed deeper into town and gave a handful of directions. “She was still pretty groggy, but she was startin’ to come around. Jabbered about Dead-Eye Dan ridin’ to her rescue so much it almost put Barrett to the blush.”
Stone grinned. Lily was coming back to herself. Thank you, God! But the urge to see her for himself throbbed in his chest. He murmured his thanks and set off down the road, stretching his stride to its full length.
“My missus will have the kid back to rights in two shakes,” Frank called out after him. “Don’t you worry.”
Stone lifted a hand to show that he’d heard but didn’t break stride. Lily was his responsibility. He was glad for the help, but he intended to see to her care himself from here on out.
When he reached Frank’s home, he pushed through a small wooden gate. The creak of the hinges brought a scruffy brown dog out from under the porch like a rock from a slingshot. The mongrel barked and ran circles around Stone’s boots, nipping at his ankles. Stone ignored him and marched forward undeterred.
An apron-clad woman materialized at the front door. “Hush, Jasper!” She pointed an imperious finger at the tree shading the porch’s corner. “Go sit over there and leave the poor man alone.”
Jasper stopped circling and raised his head to look at his mistress. He gave a final defiant bark then sauntered over to the tree as if it were where he’d been intending to go all along.
“Sorry about that,” she said, opening the door wide as Stone climbed the steps. “He’s extra protective when Frank’s away. You Mr. Hammond?”
Stone fingered his hat brim and dipped his chin. “Yes, ma’am. I’m here for Lily.”
A smile lit Mrs. Root’s face, deepening the lines around her mouth in a way that made it impossible not to curve one’s lips in return. “Such a doll, that one. Even with all she’s been through, bless her heart. She’s inside.”
Stone removed his hat and crossed the threshold.
“In the parlor around the corner to the right,” his hostess directed, tacitly giving him permission to go on without waiting on her. Permission Stone gladly accepted.
Crossing into the parlor, he was nearly felled by a blond-haired missile striking his knees. Lily threw her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his belly.
Stone reflexively reached down and cupped the side of her head with his hand, his thumb running over her soft tresses. She was alive, safe, protected. Suddenly, his throat felt scratchy, and he had to clear it before his voice would work properly. “You seem to be doing better, squirt.”
Her sweet face tilted up to look at him. “Miss Lottie said you would come. I knew I just had to be brave and wait. But the yucky medicine that man made me drink kept making me sleepy.” She released her hold on his waist and twisted her lips in obvious disgust. “I finally get to have a real adventure, and I don’t even remember half of it.” She crossed her arms over her chest and stomped her foot. The fierce action threw her off balance. Stone grabbed her shoulder to steady her. Apparently the laudanum’s effects hadn’t completely abated.
“That man is on a train headed far away from here, so you don’t have to worry about him anymore.” Stone patted her awkwardly then stepped back.
“Oh, I’m not worried,” Lily assured him. “Mr. Barrett told me you were putting the fear of God into him.” She gave a little nod then started reciting Scripture as if she had the book of Proverbs open in front of her. “‘The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. . . . The fear of the Lord is to hate evil: pride, and arrogancy, and the evil way. . . . By mercy and truth iniquity is purged: and by the fear of the Lord men depart from evil.’” She glanced back up at him. “Now that you’ve put the fear of God into him, he’s sure to be a much nicer man.”
Somewhere in the corner, Dan sputtered and coughed. Stone shot a glare in his direction.
“Well, that’s not exactly . . .” Was he supposed to tell a nine-year-old child that he’d threatened the man with physical pain and possible death in order to keep him in line? He could just imagine what Charlotte’s reaction to that explanation would be. He swallowed. “I did my best to convince him to change his ways, but no one can force someone to fear the Lord. They have to make that decision on their own.”
Lily nibbled her lip thoughtfully. “I suppose you’re right.”
Mrs. Root bustled into the room just then, saving Stone from more truth-skirting. “Look what I found in one of my daughter’s old trunks.” She held up a blue calico dress with a small lace collar. “It might be a tad longer than you’re used to, but I bet it would work.” She held out her hand to Lily. “Come on, sweetness. Let’s go try it on and get you looking like a girl again.”
Lily grinned. “It’s so pretty!”
Taking the girl’s hand, Mrs. Root led Lily out of the room and down the hall.
Once the sound of a door clicking shut signaled their privacy, Stone strode over to where Dan sprawled in an armchair and flopped into the matching rocker across from him.
“Told Franklin I’d have Lily to Dorchester by the end of the month.”
Dan let out a quiet whistle. “Only two weeks away. Doesn’t give us much time to gather the evidence we need to pressure the man into calling off the hunt.”
Stone tossed his hat onto the settee to his right, leaned back, and grimaced. “I know, but I had to make him think that I still intended to bring her back. Otherwise he’d just send more bounty hunters after us. Now that Franklin knows I have the girl, my options are limited.”
“What reason did you give for the delay?” Dan extracted his leg from the arm of the chair where it’d been dangling and planted his foot on the floor to face Stone more squarely.
Stone winced. “Said I needed the time to seduce the teacher into giving me the girl willingly so I could get around her having actual custody of the kid.”
“And I thought I was bad when it came to women.”
“Well, what else would a man like Franklin have believed?”
Dan held up a hand to ward off Stone’s defensiveness. “I ain’t passin’ judgment. It’s actually a pretty good ploy. Explains Miss Atherton’s presence at the ranch and buys us a little time. But that time will do us no good if we can’t get evidence against Dorchester.”
The two spent several minutes tossing around ideas, none of which carried much merit. “We need to find a handful of businessmen who’d be willing to testify to Dorchester’s unscrupulous business practices. Surely there’d be enough animosity somewhere to flush out the truth.” Stone punched his fist against his thigh. There had to be a way. Please, God. Let there be a way.
Dan huffed out a breath and sagged back into his seat. “But how do we identify who these business partners are?”
“We could use Grandfather’s secret ledger.”
The childish voice drew Stone’s head around. Lily stood in the middle of the parlor rug, her new blue dress swirling around her legs as she twisted from side to side.
“I’ve never looked inside, but I know where he keeps it. It probably has some names in it.”
For the first time since Stone had left Dan’s ranch, he found a genuine reason to smile.
29
Charlotte sat at the window of her new upstairs bedchamber, staring down the Hawk’s Haven drive until a quiet rap sounded against her open door. Charlotte blinked and slowly turned to find Marietta Hawkins stepping into the room with a tray bearing a bowl of what smelled like beef stew along with a pair of corn muffins.
“You know, the front room downstairs has a lovely view of the road, to
o. And the time will pass much more quickly with the boys running about, distracting you.” Marietta raised her brows in a slightly chiding manner as she set the tray on the desk.
“They’re not causing you any trouble, are they?” The broth smelled heavenly, but too much anxiety churned in her stomach to allow an appetite.
“No, no,” Marietta assured her. “I think John worries that you’ve taken ill, though.”
Charlotte bit her lip. “I’m sorry. It’s just . . . I need to watch for them. I can’t explain it. It’s as if watching for them, concentrating all my energy on praying them back home, is helping them return safely.” Hearing her feelings in words made her shake her head. So foolish. As if her waiting at the window had anything at all to do with Stone’s ability to bring Lily home. “I know it’s silly—”
“Not at all.” Marietta circled the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress near Charlotte’s chair. “Women have been praying their men home since Adam and Eve left the garden. And you better believe it makes a difference. I shudder to think about the poor fellows who don’t have a mother or sister, wife or sweetheart praying on their behalf. It doesn’t matter how strong and capable our men are, they still need the Lord’s protection. I might not be able to guard them against an outlaw’s bullet or a raging bull’s horns, but I can be on my knees, petitioning the One who can.” She laid a hand on Charlotte’s arm, a touch that communicated understanding while infusing quiet courage.
Charlotte covered Marietta’s hand with her own. “Thank you.”
She truly didn’t know what she would have done the past few days without this kind woman. After the incident at the cabin, Marietta had insisted Charlotte and the children take up residence in the big house, and without Mr. Barrett around to argue, no one gainsaid her. She’d kept Charlotte so busy the first day—in the kitchen, weeding the garden, even performing Beethoven on the out-of-tune piano Mr. Hawkins kept in the front room, all while distracting her with constant, frivolous chatter—that Charlotte hadn’t had time to fall apart before Stone’s message arrived that evening.
Glancing down at the crumpled paper in her lap, Charlotte slid her hand from Marietta’s and smoothed the creases from the small sheet she’d read countless times over the last two days.
Have Lily. Horses need to recover. Be back Saturday.
Such a brief message. So many questions still swirled through her mind. But he’d given her the one piece of information that mattered most. Lily was safe. Stone was safe. The rest could wait.
“Hmm . . . I suppose the view is better up here.” Marietta stood and moved to the window. For a moment, her features took on a degree of longing that distracted Charlotte from her own thoughts.
Perhaps her new friend’s understanding stemmed from more than just her compassionate nature.
As fast as it had appeared, however, the expression vanished behind Marietta’s gracious smile. “Well,” she said, turning away from the view, “I promised the boys I would dig out my father’s chess set. Better see to it before they accuse me of forgetting.” She patted Charlotte’s shoulder as she passed but then paused at the door. “Perhaps you’ll come down after you’ve had a bite and play for us again. Mama’s piano never sounded so good as when you played it. I know it did my heart good to hear the cheerful tunes.”
All at once, Charlotte was struck by how selfish she was being. She’d closeted herself away with her own fears, never once considering that others might be just as worried as she. Well, no more. If a little music on an imperfectly tuned piano could bring this dear woman respite, Charlotte would gladly play all afternoon. Prayer was important, but so was trust. Time to leave those who were out of her reach in God’s hands and tend to those who were close by. “I’ll be down shortly.”
Charlotte joined the others downstairs and was immediately swept into the front room and deposited on the piano bench. The boys abandoned their chess game to call out requests, as did Marietta, and soon the house was filled with music. Lively, cheerful tunes to banish the heavy atmosphere hanging over the ranch. Stephen confiscated a pair of spoons from the kitchen and fiddled with them until he found a steady clickity-clack rhythm to match her beat. Marietta clapped her hands and tapped her toes while John climbed into Charlotte’s lap and started taking over the music without missing a beat.
“Do ‘Turkey in the Straw,’ Miss Lottie!” Stephen called when the final notes of “The Yellow Rose of Texas” faded.
“All right.” Charlotte leaned down and whispered to John, “You take the melody. I’ll add some ornamentation.”
John grinned. It was their favorite game. He started in on the melody with his right hand, the simple notes clear in the air, his tempo sedate. Then he added the left hand and began to increase the speed. Once Charlotte caught his rhythm, she closed her eyes, listening to the unsung harmonies that danced through her mind. She added a plucky bass line first then stretched around John’s back to reach the upper register. Soon there were entire families of turkeys dancing in the straw.
Stephen tossed his spoons aside and jumped to his feet. “Come on, Miss Hawkins. Let’s dance.”
Marietta chuckled but didn’t resist answering his summons. Soon the two were locked at the elbows, swinging about the center of the room. Charlotte laughed along with them, her heart feeling lighter than it had in days. This was what she’d needed—to be surrounded by friends and music and gaiety. Why had she ever thought being alone would be better?
Feeling inspired, Charlotte improvised on her improvisation, adding a military beat in the bass to imitate drums while trilling the upper registers like a pair of flutes. John adjusted the melody to match her new beat and soon Stephen and Marietta kicked up their knees, threw out their elbows, and marched in vigorous circles about the room. After a few minutes of that, Charlotte threw in some syncopation, reminiscent of the Negro spirituals she’d always enjoyed. The dance changed again. Marietta grabbed handfuls of her skirts and swished the fabric in front of her as she bounced lightly on her toes. Stephen kicked front and then back and then repeated it while waving his hands to the sides.
John let go a giggle, a rare sound from the quiet boy. Charlotte kissed his head and sent a prayer of thanks heavenward for the blessing of joy.
The joy of the Lord is your strength. Her mother’s favorite verse whisked through her mind. Charlotte had never understood it until now. She’d always thought her mother simply used it as an excuse to sing whenever she felt the urge. When one was already joyful, after all, she didn’t really need strength, did she? No, it was when worry and anger and fear consumed a person that she needed God’s strength the most.
Only now did Charlotte realize that one could choose joy even in times of despair. God’s blessings were so prevalent, a person could always find reason to rejoice. One simply had to trust God enough to leave her problems at His feet and open her eyes to the blessings already provided. Music. Friendship. Laughter. They had been here all the time, but Charlotte had shut them out. Now they flowed through her, strengthening her. Giving her hope, renewed optimism, and a level of contentment she’d never experienced while sitting at the window.
“I want to dance!” a newcomer shouted.
Charlotte’s head whipped around. “Lily!” Discordant notes clanged. Yanking her hands from the keys, she wiggled out from beneath John, setting him to the side of her on the bench. Then she shot to her feet and ran across the room. “Oh, Lily!” Charlotte threw herself to her knees on the rug in front of Lily and hugged the girl to her. “You’re back. Praise God, you’re back!” Tears welled, but she closed her eyes against them and reveled in the feel of her daughter—yes, her daughter—pressed against her chest.
“Of course I’m back, Miss Lottie.” The fierce way Lily clung to Charlotte belied the outright confidence of her words. “Mr. Hammond always retrieves what he sets out after. Isn’t that right, Mr. Barrett?” She looked behind her to the man in question for confirmation.
It took Dan a minute to drag his
gaze away from the very lovely Marietta, who was still a tad flushed and out of breath from her dance with Stephen. “Uh . . . yep. That’s right.” He finally nodded at Lily, which earned him a smile from more than one female in the room. “Stone’s got the tenacity of a bloodhound. He never comes home empty-handed.”
Stone. Charlotte’s gaze locked with his. She stilled at the intensity there. His amber eyes overflowed with promises. To protect. To provide. To overcome. For her.
Her breath caught at that last thought. He did what he did because he was honorable and wanted right to prevail. He did it to keep Lily safe. Yet the longer Charlotte held his gaze, the louder the true message sounded in her heart. For you. He’s doing it all for you.
Charlotte retreated from his gaze and the uncomfortable fluttery sensations it inspired in her belly. Squeezing Lily to her one more time, she took refuge in the familiar affection of children. This she understood. This was safe. And Lily’s small body felt so wonderful tucked within her arms after so many days of separation. It was nearly impossible to let the girl go, but she did. For she owed a debt of gratitude to the one who had returned her. A debt she could never repay.
Slowly, Charlotte gained her feet and moved to stand in front of Stone. Chatter rose behind her as Stephen pestered Lily with questions about what had transpired since the night she’d been taken. Marietta quizzed Dan in similar fashion. No one seemed to be paying any attention to Charlotte and Stone.
“Thank you.” The words fell softly from her lips, so inadequate, yet she could find no others. “Thank you for bringing her back to me.”
He said nothing. Just nodded. Then he raised his hand and stroked the length of her cheek with the backs of his fingers. Charlotte’s eyes fluttered closed. Such tenderness nearly undid her. Nothing else in the room existed in that moment. Just his touch. His nearness. And the desire it stirred in her heart. A desire to belong to this man and no other for all the days of her life.