Prince Charming (35 page)

His natural inclination was to distrust anyone with a badge. The symbol gave the man too much power, and power, he'd learned through experience, was like ocean water to a thirsty man. One drink made a man hungry for more and more and more until it became an insatiable craving. Power rarely elevated a man and most often corrupted him.

“It could get complicated and I don't particularly want the law breathing down my neck while I'm looking for your nieces. Answer a question for me.”

“What is it?”

“Does Victoria know about your nieces?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn't you mention the girls to me?”

She didn't answer him. “Do you trust me?” he asked her then.

She hesitated a full minute before speaking. “I believe I do,” she said. “Yes, I do,” she added in a more forceful tone of voice. “Madam said I should.”

“And if Madam hadn't given you that instruction?”

“You're a man, Lucas.”

“What does that mean?”

“Men usually can't be trusted. Victoria and I both have learned that important lesson. Still, you aren't like other men. You're certainly nothing like your half brother. William, I now realize, is a weakling. You're the complete opposite. You'll find them, won't you? Tell me again. I'll believe you.”

The jump in topics didn't jar him. He once again gave her his promise.

“Do you think they've been harmed?”

The bleakness in her voice tore at his heart. He was more abrupt than he wanted to be when he answered her. “Don't allow yourself to think about such things. Concentrate only on getting them back. You'll go out of your mind otherwise.”

She tried to take his advice. Each time a horrid thought popped into her head, she forced it aside. She made a mental list of all the things she would need to take with her on the trip.

When they finally reached the hotel, Taylor rushed through the lobby in search of the hotel's concierge. She was given a train schedule, and when she‘read that a train had only just left, she wanted to scream. The next one wouldn't be leaving Boston until ten o'clock in the morning. A messenger was duly dispatched to the station with enough funds to purchase two tickets. The manager suggested he wire their sister hotel in Cincinnati for reservations, and when she agreed, he hurried to do just that. She asked him to be certain to secure a second room for her friend.

Making these plans helped Taylor stay calm. She hurried up to her room, packed her bags, then located the tickets for her trunks and took them with her down to Victoria's room. It was almost two o'clock in the morning when she knocked on her door.

Victoria could barely keep her eyes open until Taylor told her what had happened. The news proved to be as effective as a glass of cold water tossed into her face. She was wide awake and teary eyed in sympathy over Taylor's distress.

“The poor babies,” she whispered. “I'm going with you,” she added almost immediately. “I'll help any way that I can.”

It never entered Taylor's mind that Victoria might decline to help. She had complete faith in her friend. She handed her the tickets for the trunks and instructed her to follow Lucas and her to Cincinnati on the next available train. She explained she had already wired ahead for a room for Victoria, for she hoped her friend would take care of the luggage and then follow her.

“I'm praying they're in Cincinnati,” Taylor told her. “I think my nieces are headed west. I want to believe they'll be easy to find. If they've been taken to New York, where there are hordes of people, finding them would be more difficult.”

“What else can I do to help?”

“Go to the bank tomorrow and withdraw as much money as possible. Bring it with you. I'll sign a voucher before I leave in the morning. Please don't tell Sherman or Summers where you're going.”

“No, I won't tell,” Victoria promised. She embraced her friend, wished her Godspeed, and then remembered the list of items Taylor had wanted to purchase while in Boston.

“Give me your list,” she ordered. “Since I will stay in Boston another day to do the banking, I can also do your shopping.”

“Yes, of course. I'll give you my list in the morning.” She started to leave, then turned back to her friend. “You should also have the staff move your things into our room.”

“Why?”

“It's nicer,” Taylor explained. She opened the door and started down the hallway. “You deserve luxury, Victoria. I was going to change with you after Lucas left. It would please me to know you're sleeping there tomorrow night.”

“And it will please me to know you've found the little ones by then.”

Taylor shook her head. “Lucas said it will take forty hours to get to Cincinnati. I can't send a wire to you because you'll be on a train by then. You'll have to wait until you get there. Be careful, dear friend.”

“Try to get some sleep tonight,” Victoria called out.

The suggestion was given with a kind heart and Taylor pretended to agree to try. She couldn't imagine being able to sleep, but she didn't want Victoria worrying about her.

Lucas returned to their room a short while later. He locked the door, then leaned against the frame while he took her gun out of his pocket and unloaded it. He put the gun and the bullets on the table. Then he packed his things. That chore only took a few minutes.

“Come to bed, Taylor,” he ordered. “Tomorrow's going to be a long day.”

He was stripping out of his clothes on his way to the washroom when he gave the command. She shook her head. “Not just yet,” she told him. She walked over to the window behind the seating area and stood there looking out into the black night.

He didn't argue with her. He thought she probably needed a few minutes of solitude to calm her emotions. He kept his pants on for her sake and slept on top of the covers. He awakened an hour later, knew before he even opened his eyes she wasn't in bed with him, and then spotted her across the room. She hadn't moved from her position by the window. Her head was bowed and her arms were folded in front of her. She was doubled over, and although he couldn't see her face or hear any noise, he knew she was weeping.

Her agony was heartwrenching. Lucas got out of bed and quietly crossed the room. He didn't say a word to her. He simply lifted her into his arms and carried her back to the alcove. He stood her by the side of the bed and undressed her. She neither protested nor offered to help. She simply stood there while he stripped her down to her chemise. He tried not to notice how silky her skin was. His hand brushed across the swell of her breasts, and God help him, he wanted to linger over the task of touching her. He didn't give into the base urge. It didn't seem right or honorable of him to have lustful thoughts about her now. She was too vulnerable. He knew she would let him make love to her, might even welcome his touch, but with the morning light, she would surely have regrets. He wasn't about to take advantage of her.

Hell, he guessed he really was a gentleman.

His gentle little bride had had one hell of a time these past months. The man she believed she loved and was about to marry had betrayed her, the woman who had raised her as a daughter and talked her into marrying a complete stranger died, and Taylor hadn't been given a single hour in which to mourn, and now she surely believed she would never see her sister's children again. Lucas knew she would spend the rest of her life looking for the little girls if that was what was required of her, so strong was her sense of responsibility and family obligation.

Her loyalty staggered him. She acted as though she was going to take on the duty of motherhood. He assumed she meant to help raise her nieces with the assistance of the twins' other relatives.

She called them her babies. Lucas didn't know what her plans for the future were. The present was all that concerned him now.

The babies. He would go into hell if he had to, to get the innocents back.

 

Lucas silently repeated the vow over and over again on the train ride to Cincinnati. He didn't know if he was saying a prayer to God or giving Him a challenge. Only one thing was certain in his mind. He would get the children back.

Hunter was waiting for them at the station. Lucas counted his appearance as a sign that luck and maybe even God were on their side. His friend looked trail weary. His tan-colored shirt and pants were covered with a layer of dust. He wore a gunbelt similar to Lucas's, a preference of both men that was considered a bit of an oddity in the West. Most gunfighters and mountain men stuck their guns in their pockets or the belt that held their pants up.

His friend was every bit as tall as Lucas. He was reed thin, with dark blue-black hair and brown eyes. His coloring came from his Crow grandmother. So did his disposition. He was soft-spoken, rarely riled, and had a code of morals most people couldn't begin to live up to. Like Lucas, Hunter had been ostracized growing up. Lucas was treated with contempt because he was a bastard and an orphan; Hunter was despised because of what ignorant people referred to as his mixed blood. They'd become friends out of necessity and loneliness when they were boys. Their friendship had strengthened with the years and their harsh existence. Hunter had returned to the isolation of the mountains before Lucas, but after the war, Lucas had joined him. Each man was loyal to the other, and each had saved the other's hide more than a couple of times. Hunter was the only man Lucas would let stand behind his back. And Lucas was one of the few men Hunter would even talk to, so reclusive had he become over the years.

Taylor took one look at the intimidating man and moved closer to Lucas. Mr. Hunter looked hard and mean. She really couldn't have asked for more.

He tipped his hat to her when Lucas introduced her and said, “Ma'am,” and then turned his attention to her husband.

“Couple of possibilities.”

Lucas nodded. He latched onto Taylor's elbow and tried to get her moving, but she wasn't going anywhere until she gave his friend her gratitude.

“Lucas told me you rarely leave your mountain home, Mr. Hunter. You'll probably think me foolish indeed, but I believe God sent you on whatever errand it was that brought you so close to Cincinnati. We needed another strong, clever, resourceful man and so He sent us you. I would like to thank you now for whatever assistance you can give us.”

Hunter was taken aback by her words and was at a loss for a response. Her acceptance of him, given so quickly and without any apparent reservations, astonished him. He simply stared at her and waited to hear what she would next say. She didn't keep him waiting long.

“Lucas told me you were the second-best tracker in America.”

After making that statement she allowed her husband to urge her forward. Hunter fell into step beside them.

“Second best? Who's first?” he asked.

She smiled up at him when she answered. “Lucas is. He told me so.”

Hunter couldn't tell if she were jesting with him or being sincere. He felt it his duty to set her straight. “Lucas has it backward, ma'am. He's second best.” He nodded.

Lucas spoke up, addressing his comments to his friend. “We'll drop Taylor at the hotel and then . . .”

She interrupted him. “I want to go with you.”

He shook his head. “You need to get some sleep,” he told her. “You can barely stand up. I slept on the train. You didn't.”

“Lucas, I feel fine. Truly.”

“You look like hell. If you don't get some rest, you'll get sick.”

The argument would have continued on, but Hunter stepped in and put a stop to it with one indisputable fact.

“You'll slow us down.”

“Then I'll wait at the hotel,” she immediately replied.

It almost killed her to be left behind, but she understood their reasoning. They would be going into places where a lady wouldn't be welcomed. That fact didn't bother her, but she knew Lucas would spend most of his time watching out for her instead of concentrating on the task at hand: finding the little girls.

Taylor didn't have to tell Lucas to take his guns with him this time. He and Hunter helped her check into the hotel room. They stayed less than a minute. After tossing her valise on the bed, Lucas grabbed his gunbelt, loaded his guns, and strapped the belt around his hips on his way out the door. He didn't even waste time saying good-bye.

She paced and fretted for over an hour, then decided to do mundane chores to keep busy. She had a bath, washed her hair, unpacked her clothes, and then stretched out on the bed in her robe. She thought to rest for just a minute or two and then get dressed again.

She slept for a good four or five hours. She awoke feeling disoriented. It took her a full minute to realize where she was. Part of her sleepy confusion was due to the fact that the room she was in was almost identical to the hotel room in Boston. The owners had obviously decided to build an exact duplication of the original. There was the same seating area with a divan and two chairs, the identical alcove housing the bed, and there were even two wardrobes in the room, both set against the same long wall. The colors in the room were somewhat different, however. This one was done in pale shades of gold with white accents. There was also one other difference. There were two doors on the left of the wardrobe instead of one. The first door led to the washroom. The second was an opening to the room reserved for Victoria. The adjoining area was smaller in dimensions and the focal point was a large four-poster bed covered with a royal blue spread. A chair, chest, and wardrobe took up the rest of the space. While the room didn't give the same feeling of intimacy as the alcove did, it had its own charm. It was certainly just as exquisitely appointed and really quite lovely.