Tracie Peterson (9 page)

Twelve

A
great cloud of disorder and lawlessness settled over Dawson. That, along with the heavy rains, left decent folk confined to their homes. Riley watched the situation with growing apprehension. When the town wasn’t busy burying those who’d been shot or knifed in the streets, it was building gallows for those who’d committed the crimes.

Riley insisted that Zandy, Ruth, and the children remain inside the mansion. He hired extra men to police the grounds and watched every shadow with a wary eye. The problem continued to grow by leaps and bounds, and there seemed to be nothing Riley could do to change the immediate circumstances.

One idea continued to give him hope of at least taking his loved ones from the conflict. Horace Tabor had made him a very substantial buy-out
offer. Riley hated to just walk away from the town. The fact was, he felt large
ly responsible for what it had become. He was the one who’d brought the town back to life when it was nothing more than a ghost town called Temperance. He was the one who’d taken possession of the mines through gambling and underhanded dealings. Was God now making him face the fruit of his past labors?

Shaking his head, Riley pulled out the Bible. He longed to spend more and more time reading the pages of this book. He forever felt inadequate when it came to being the spiritual leader of his family. Zandy knew much more, in the sense of having years of Bible stories and reading in her memory. The times when he tried to guide or direct them in some choice or decision, Zandy inevitably upstaged him with some Scripture that left him feeling stupidly misguided.

His salvation was real, of that he was certain. His spirit was in close communion with God. That, too, was undeniable. Why, then, couldn’t he be the husband Zandy needed? What was it that kept him from being a proper spiritual leader in his home?

A knock on the door brought his attention from the open Bible.

“Come in,” he called, pushing back from the desk. The large leather chair creaked in protest as Riley got to his feet.

Zandy entered the room. Her face was radiant, even though a frown lined her lips. Her worry for Pamela was evident, as was her growing condition. Riley watched her cross the room to him. He couldn’t help but smile, and he placed a hand against the delicately belted blouse that covered the oversized waist of her skirt.

“And how are my two most favorite people today?” he asked softly.

Zandy’s eyes met his, and Riley couldn’t keep from moving his hands to cup her face. “We’re fine,” she answered with the hint of a smile. “Have you had any word?”

Riley shook his head. “I imagine we’ll hear soon enough. And when we do, I’ll be ready. In the meantime, I think I’ve made a decision about Mister Tabor’s offer.”

“Oh?” her eyes widened in anticipation of what her husband would say.

“Yes,” Riley replied and rubbed his thumb against her cheek. “I believe I will sell all of my holdings in Dawson to him.”

“Truly, Riley?” Zandy reached up to take hold of his hands. “Can we honestly be rid of this awful place?”

“The offer Tabor made is generous, and I can’t help but believe there comes a time when a man has to walk away from his mistakes and start anew. Tabor believes he can control this riffraff with his own style of law and order. He has far more power and say than I could ever hope to hold, or even want to, for that matter. When I told him about the difficulties we’d been having with the Owens gang and other like them, Horace Tabor actually laughed.”

“Laughed?” Zandy asked.

“Yes,” Riley admitted. He kissed his wife’s hands and pulled her with him to the sofa. They sat side by side with Riley’s arm protectively around Zandy. She hesitated only a moment before leaning her head against Riley’s muscular shoulder.

“Is it that Mister Tabor is confident he can control the evil element in this town, or is he so much a part of their world that it no longer bothers him?” Zandy finally questioned.

“I don’t honestly know,” Riley replied. “Whatever his thoughts on the matter, I’ll simply be glad to be rid of this place.”

“Me too,” Zandy wholeheartedly agreed. Suddenly, she asked, “What about my family?”

“I’ve already considered their needs. I’ll give your father enough money to start over wherever he’d like. I think he’ll be relieved to get the children out of Dawson,” Riley answered.

“I know Ruth will be,” Zandy said. “She told me the boys had picked up bad language at school. I guess the schoolmaster has no control over the larger boys, and the younger ones seem to just naturally fall into bad habits.”

“Well,” Riley began, the frustration in his voice evident, “I’m grateful for now that the school term is finished. By the time fall rolls around, we’ll be long gone, if I have anything to say about it.”

“Judging from his kick, I’d say that suits your son as well.”

Riley smiled at her reference to a boy. “Coming around to my way of thinking, eh, Mrs. Dawson?”

Zandy smiled, “Occasionally, it seems to agree with me to do so.”

Riley returned her smile and placed a kiss on her temple. “First things first, however. We’ll do all we can to get Pamela back. Did I tell you that her parents wired me to say that someone will be arriving in Dawson to see to their interest in this matter? Imagine, your only child is taken hostage, and you do nothing more than arrange to send someone on your behalf.”

Zandy shook her head. “I told you that Pamela had a bad home life.”

“Yes, I know. But, I told you that we can’t save her from all the hurts and pains that this world will offer. Only God can do that. Remember?”

Zandy nodded with a sigh. “But it is so hard to do nothing.”

“Like you once told me, often we have to live through the rough times in order to learn from the choices we’ve made in error. Either way, God is still God, and He’s the one dealing the hand, so to speak. And, Jesus is right there too, always coming to His father on our behalf. In fact, I was just reading an interesting verse,” Riley stated and went to retrieve the Bible from his desk. “It says here in Hebrews seven, verse twenty-five, ‘Wherefore he is able also to save them to the uttermost that come unto God by him, seeing he ever liveth to make intercession for them.’ That verse is about Christ and the fact that He always lives to intervene for you and me. Imagine that Alexandra,” he said, using her given name.

“I’ve honestly not ever read that Scripture before. It’s wonderful, and I’m glad you shared it with me.”

Riley felt strengthened in his role of leader by her statement. “If Jesus is interceding for us, and the Holy Spirit is interceding for us, as Romans 8:26 says, how can we possibly doubt that God will hear our petitions?”

Before she could speak, the housekeeper came to announce that Pamela’s uncle had arrived. Riley and Zandy went quickly to greet him.

“I’m Riley Dawson, and this is my wife, Zandy,” he said, stepping forward to take the stranger’s hand.

“Robert Charbonneau,” the man replied. He was nearly matched in height to Riley’s tall frame and had pale blue eyes that seemed somehow harsh. “Have you had further word on my niece’s whereabouts?”

“No, but I expect to hear almost any time,” Riley stated.

“I had the carriage driver bring me here first, just in case she’d already been returned,” Robert said. “I’ll take a room at the hotel.”

“Nonsense,” Riley interrupted. “We’ve over twelve unoccupied bedrooms in this house. There is surely no need for you to stay in town. Besides, the kidnapper knows to contact us here. You’ll want to stay close in order to keep informed the very minute we get notification.”

Robert nodded. “I appreciate that Mister Dawson.”

“Please call me Riley. I’ll have someone bring in your luggage. Would you care for something to eat or drink, Mister Charbonneau?”

“That would be very much to my liking,” Robert admitted, “but you must call me Robert if I am to call you Riley.”

“Deal,” Riley said with a smile.

“Come along, gentlemen,” Zandy said, leading the way. “I’ll have Cook provide us with some sandwiches and lemonade.”

❧

That afternoon, the second ransom letter arrived and with it the instructions for the exchange of money. Robert Charbonneau was unemotional as he read, then reread the letter, while Riley waited in silence.

“Do you have any idea who’s holding her?” Robert asked, handing the letter back to Riley.

“I thought at first that I did,” Riley replied. “The reason being, and this is in strictest confidence, the kidnapper originally intended to take my wife.”

“Your wife?” Robert’s surprise seemed to justify further explanation.

“A long time ago, there was a man who was interested in my wife. He left town thinking that she was being forced into a loveless marriage with me,” Riley explained. He’d only come to remember Jim Williams’ interest in Zandy over the last week or so. “I don’t know for sure that it was the same man who took Pamela, but he did leave a note explaining that his intention had been to rescue Zandy from me.”

“I see,” Robert said rather stiffly. “So Pamela’s life has been endangered because some lovesick idiot thought to make some grandiose gesture toward your wife?”

“I suppose you could put it that way. However,” Riley stated, meeting the man eye to eye, “I question whether it’s still the same man who’s sending the ransom notes.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I ran a story in the Denver paper. It might have been foolhardy and brought us undesired attention in the matter of Pamela’s disappearance. In fact, it is entirely possible that the person responsible for the ransom demands is just someone who learned of Pamela’s disappearance and hoped to make a tidy profit.”

“I suppose that is a possibility,” Robert had to admit. “But why would the man who hoped to rescue your wife still have my niece?”

“That’s what I don’t understand,” Riley replied. “Unless of course, she talked him into helping her get back to Kansas City and that Bradley Rayburn character.”

“I’ll wire back to the house so they can be on the lookout, but Rayburn isn’t even in Kansas City anymore.”

“Where is he?” Riley couldn’t help but ask.

“On his honeymoon,” Robert answered dryly. “It seems in his pining for my niece, he up and married the first wealthy widow who’d have him. They’re now in Europe, or so the papers all say.”

Riley shook his head. “Let’s hope she didn’t go back home, then.”

❧

After Robert Charbonneau had telegraphed the Charbonneau residence, he stepped into the muddy streets of Dawson. The rain had temporarily stopped.

Robert intended to see to the matter of Pamela’s safe return. Having enjoyed life as a man of means, Robert thought he knew that money was often the only way to accomplish anything. Going into the first saloon he passed, he quickly sized up the clientele and began the task of rounding up men-for-hire who would go out in pursuit of his niece and those who held her captive.

“You understand,” Robert said to the seedy crowd. “I will pay you each ten dollars now and another twenty when you return with her. But, you must see to it that the kidnapper is brought in alive. I want to watch his neck stretched from the gallows when they declare him guilty.”

The men around him nodded their approval and held out their hands for the pay. Robert did as he promised and sent them on their way in search of Pamela. Riley Dawson might take comfort in waiting the abductors out, but he didn’t. He was a man used to taking matters into his own hands and this time would be no exception!

Thirteen

M
aking her way through the muddy streets of Central City, Colorado, Pamela realized that she’d begun to savor Jim’s quick sense of humor and open honesty. Enjoying the companionship of a man such as Jim had never been in Pamela’s agenda. He was ill educated, dirt poor, and socially deficient. Beyond that he needed a shave, haircut, and thorough washing. Under normal circumstances, Pamela would have considered him totally worthless. But there was something more to Jim than met the eye. Something that Pamela could no longer ignore.

She couldn’t help but smile, watching him lead the horse through the town. He tried hard to avoid the messier places in the road, but all of it seemed to hopelessly ooze muck.

Central City was much the same as Dawson. It was yet another of the infamous mining communities that had seemingly sprung to life overnight. Saloons and gambling houses lined the path while dry goods stores, apothecaries, and other businesses were interlaced between them. Jim finally settled on the nearest store of respectable appearance and tethered the horse to the hitching post.

“I’ll see what I can do about getting us some grub. I don’t have much left in the way of money, but maybe I can trade for something.” Giving a look up and down the street, Jim lifted Pamela from the horse and carried her to the boardwalk. “I think you’d best stay close to me,” he whispered in her ear.

Pamela readily agreed, finding the raucous laughter and swaggering patrons of the nearest bar a bit unnerving. She was only too aware of the sheltered life she’d lived. Although she and Bradley had spent many of their evenings on the town, the upper crust of Kansas City had never associated with the likes of what she was exposed to at the present. But her feelings weren’t a matter of snobbery here. They were a matter of survival.

Latching onto Jim’s arm in a possessive manner, they made their way into the store.

Several miners milled about the narrow room. Some seemed intent on tools at hand, others just drifted around aimlessly. Pamela squeezed closer to Jim, and when she did, she accidentally stepped on his foot.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, startled and in complete embarrassment. “I’m so sorry.”

Jim chuckled. “No problem. I only walk on the bottoms.” Pamela tried
to smile, but, in truth, she was scared to death. When several gunshots sound
ed outside, she felt herself grow faint. Life in the past few weeks had offered her more excitement than she desired.

“Can I help you?” the shopkeeper asked from behind a filthy counter.

Jim began to talk with the man, while Pamela tried not to notice the noise outside. She was lost in thought until her eye spied a Denver newspaper. Completely forgetting her fear, Pamela stepped away from Jim and took a copy of the paper from the counter. She scanned the front page, wondering if anything else had been written about her disappearance. Seeing nothing there, she continued to flip through the pages until her eye caught a startling announcement. Pamela’s hands began to shake as she reread the tiny article.

Mrs. Alison Timbre of Kansas City married Mister Bradley Rayburn in an elaborate ceremony on Saturday. Mrs. Timbre, formerly Alison Cavanaugh of the Chicago Cavanaughs, is said to be worth several million dollars and intends to finance her husband’s new business, which is yet to be announced. The couple will set up housekeeping after touring Europe for the summer.

There was a dry ache in her throat and, for some reason, Pamela couldn’t seem to put the paper down. How could Bradley have married this woman?
He said he loved me. He promised he’d wait forever to be at my side again,
Pamela thought to herself. Now only months after her father’s ugly scene at their engagement party, Bradley was touring Europe with his new wife.

She didn’t realize when Jim had come to stand behind her. She glanced up when she felt his hand brush hers at the paper’s edge. Their eyes met. The pain was so evident in hers, while the sympathy in his was spoken in a mere look. He took the paper from her, replaced it on the counter, then led her out of the store and back to the horse.

Her vision blurred, and Pamela was grateful that Jim held her arm firm
ly against his waist. She never thought to ask him how he’d fared in getting provisions. All she could think of was the fact that Bradley had found someone else. A very rich someone else.

“I’m sorry, Pamela,” Jim said, lifting her into the saddle. He stuffed their supplies into the saddlebags.

They rode from the town in silence, while all around them was utter chaos. Pamela didn’t even notice. She felt the numbing of her shock as it seemed to spread through her veins, leaving her cold and dead.

How could he? I loved him,
she thought.
I gave my heart to him and refused to hear any ill of him whatsoever. I stood up for him before my father and mother and argued with all that I could dream up to convince them that he was more than the ne’er-do-well that they saw. Now, they’ve proven their insight to be correct and I’m the fool.

In complete defeat, she slumped back against Jim. The tears gave way and poured from her eyes. There was nothing left to go home to. No reason to go on.

❧

Jim tightened his hold on the reins and in doing so, tightened his hold on Pamela. She appeared so frail and broken, and his heart ached to make everything better. He struggled for something to say, some encouragement he could whisper into her ear, but nothing came to mind. She was just a little bitty gal, he reasoned, just like Caleb had nicknamed her. How could she possibly be called upon to bear up under such devastating news?

Jim felt like kicking himself for having allowed his feelings for Pamela to deepen. What he’d convinced himself was just admiration and friendship felt like considerably more in the wake of seeing her obvious attachment to a man who’d jilted her so completely.

He could feel the sobs racking her body, and it nearly deprived him of his
self-control to seem unmoved. He kept reminding himself that what she did
n’t need was another man romancing her with sweet words and eloquence. Not that he had either.

He was doing fine at hiding his feelings until Pamela lowered her face into her hands. It was as if she thought she could somehow block out the world and all that hurt her.

“Hush,” he whispered against her hair. “Shhh. Crying won’t help.” The words seemed to settle her a bit, and Jim tried to think of something more to say. Finally it came to him in a startling revelation. “God’s with you, Pamela. He won’t let you bear this alone.”

Pamela lifted her face and turned to meet Jim’s eyes.

“I won’t let you bear it alone, either.”

Pamela managed to put her tears aside and, when Jim felt she was better composed, he began to converse on anything and everything to keep her mind from her misery.

She heard him say something about being in Dawson by morning, but it didn’t register as being important. In her mind, Pamela was replaying the events of her life. She thought of first meeting Bradley and how she’d fallen helplessly in love with his gallant nature and zest for life.

Considering these matters, Pamela realized that what hurt the most was the fact that her parents had been absolutely right about Bradley. He was hunting a fortune, and with Pamela he’d found one. She was wealthy and fully capable of seeing to his needs, which, as Pamela couldn’t help but remember, included starting a new business venture with several of his close friends. He would never really divulge what type of business he intended to found, but then again, Pamela had never cared. She’d openly promised that whatever it took, she’d make Bradley’s dreams come true just as he had made hers a reality.

But now there was nothing left of that dream. She chided herself mentally for being so gullible. She seethed in rage, considering all the things he’d said to her. The promises he’d made. The future he’d planned. All of it was
to be theirs together, and now he was living those dreams with another
woman. His wife!

By the time the sun started fading behind the mountain peaks, Pamela was no longer hurt. She was mad. Enraged at her stupidity and appalled at the fool Bradley Rayburn had made of her, Pamela became sullen and stiff. She
no longer leaned against Jim for support, and the change in her was evident to
him.

He wanted to say something, but what could he say that he hadn’t already said? He couldn’t very well tell her that he was starting to have feelings for her. He couldn’t say anything without jeopardizing the thin veneer of friendship that had developed between them. He was still the man who’d taken her from Dawson, Jim reminded himself. He had been solely responsible for her plight from the moment he’d taken her from Zandy’s and Riley’s care. How could he offer her anything that would matter?

Without warning, Jim reined back on the horse and dismounted. It had suddenly become unbearable to be that near her. Just thinking the thoughts he had contemplated made Jim painfully aware that he’d come to care a great deal more for Pamela Charbonneau than he’d ever thought possible.

If Pamela thought his actions strange, she said nothing. Her face was frozen in a disinterested stare that was fixed straight ahead. Jim doubted she saw anything but the images in her mind.

Leading the horse forward, he could only offer up a prayer for God’s intervention. Jim found himself begging God to ease her pain and set things right again. He could only silently wish that things might have been different between them. With a shake of his head, Jim began the descent toward the roadway that would take them back to Dawson. It had once been home, he reminded himself. Now it was just a place of reckoning, and Jim couldn’t help but wonder what fate awaited him there.