Twilight in Texas (32 page)

As the day passed, Molly and Washburn worked in shifts. The rain eased to a drizzle, making the world seem dark and depressed.

Josh Weston showed up in midafternoon, looking for Wolf. They’d finally received a letter from the sheriff back in Savannah about Callie Ann. It appeared he’d sent a letter with her and another one general delivery to a Francis Digger in Austin. The one traveling with Callie Ann must have been lost. Callie Ann’s grandmother had left her about a half million dollars and a farm. Should something happen to the child, the next in line to inherit would be Francis and Carrell Digger.

Molly’s mind quickly sifted through the facts. That was why they hadn’t killed Callie Ann outright. The murder would be traced to them too easily. But if they kidnapped the child, claiming she was their kin and they had a right, the Diggers could take their time doing away with her. If, somehow, they could beat the robbery charges in Texas, they could go back to Georgia and live as rich men. They just had to keep Callie Ann with them until it became more convenient for her to be eliminated. Then they could collect.

That had to be why they took her. They might even claim she had been held against her will and her uncles had had to save her. With a corrupt judge, the Diggers could step into a new life.

“I have to find Wolf.” Molly tugged at Josh’s sleeve as he sampled a plate of chicken Noma had sent over from her cafe.

He shrugged. “I thought he was here. He stormed in before dawn, giving every ranger standing orders, and then disappeared.”

“What orders?” Molly asked.

“He wants every road out of here covered and every stage checked. We’ve got double guards, but nothing’s moving.” He took a bite and added, “I even heard Miller had to cancel a funeral. The ground is so wet, the casket would float right back up.”

Molly offered the young ranger a plate and fork, but he said he couldn’t take the time. He didn’t say anything, but Molly guessed that he believed the longer it took to find Callie Ann the less chance they’d find her alive.

She thought about what Josh said all afternoon. In the back of her mind, Molly felt as though she had all the pieces but couldn’t fit them together. Somewhere in all the muddle of facts lay a way to help Callie Ann.

About ten, Molly finally gave up waiting for Wolf and ate alone at the kitchen table. Everyone had gone home but one nurse. Charlie and Early suffered ups and downs all day but were resting now. Strange how we live from crisis to crisis, she thought, when someone is so ill. The hours didn’t matter,
only the condition.

Molly tried to finish her meal, but she didn’t have the energy. It felt like weeks since she’d slept. She checked on the patients one last time and went to her room.

The bed was unmade, as they’d left it this morning. Her aunts would have been shocked, but there was no time for housekeeping. Without removing her clothes, Molly curled into the wrinkled sheets and rested her head on Wolf’s pillow.

She could smell a hint of him and wished his arms were around her. She closed her eyes and remembered the night before. For a man who’d claimed to know little of loving, he’d done a fine job, to her way of thinking.

A few minutes later, she smiled just before she fell asleep, thinking memories were far better than dreams.

Long after midnight, Molly heard the nurse calling her name. For a moment, she couldn’t get her bearings. She stumbled from the covers like a drunk and hurried down the hall.

“I can’t get him to be still,” the nurse complained. “I’ve tried everything.”

Molly moved to the side of Charlie’s bed and placed her hands on his arm. The nurse did the same on the other side. “Charlie,” Molly said as calmly as she could. “Charlie, you have to settle down. You’ll only hurt yourself if you keep thrashing.”

He mumbled beneath the layers of bandages.

“Charlie, please lie still.” Molly could feel him growing stronger and more agitated. Soon, they would have to strap him down like some wild animal. “Settle down, now. Everything’s going to be all right. Settle down and try to sleep.”

He struggled again, increasing his efforts to break free of their grasp.

Molly leaned close. “Charlie, you’ve got to be still. Your head will only hurt worse if you move. Please be still.” Harley had warned her how dangerous it would be if Charlie pulled his stitches loose or bumped his head.

This time, when he mumbled she could hear his words. “Early,” he whispered. “Is Early still alive?”

Molly’s heart jumped to her throat and blocked her cry. He wasn’t asking for medicine or going mad with pain. He only needed to know about Early. “Yes,” Molly whispered. “She’s right beside you.”

“Early!” His voice was hoarse with fear. “Early,” he cried as if he didn’t believe Molly’s words. As though Early could answer him if he could force the words through his bandages.

Molly glanced up at the nurse. “Move the bed!”

“What?” The nurse didn’t understand.

“Get out of the way, and help me move the beds closer together.”

The nurse shook her head. “I don’t think that would be wise. Then we couldn’t get around each one. It would cause trouble. Both these people are very near death.”

“Move the bed!” Molly shouted. “Or, get out of my way and I’ll do it myself. Stop acting as if they might catch a disease from one another.”

The nurse finally stepped from between the two beds. Molly slowly pushed with all her strength until Charlie’s bed was within six inches of Early’s.

Then she leaned over and brought Charlie’s hand to Early’s side. “You see, Charlie, she’s still alive. She’s sleeping next to you.”

He stopped thrashing as his fingers brushed along Early’s arm.

Molly leaned a few inches from Charlie’s bandaged face. “She has to lie very still, Charlie, but she’s alive. If you’re to stay this close, do you think you could fight the pain and be very still also? Do
you understand?”

Charlie cupped his hand around Early’s elbow. “Will she live?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Molly answered.

He was silent so long, she feared he’d passed out once again. Finally, he begged, “Can I stay right beside her?”

Molly patted his arm. “We may have to move you to change her bandages, but I think she’d want you nearby.”

Charlie didn’t say another word. His fingers rested lightly on Early’s arm. He didn’t move again, except to pat her as though silently telling Early he was close.

Glancing up at the nurse, Molly was surprised to find her crying.

“I’ll put a quilt under Mr. Charlie’s bed in the morning so we can shift it when we have to. That way, it won’t cause him any more pain than necessary.” She stared at his hand resting on Early’s arm. “Do you think he can take the hurting in his head and stay still?”

Molly looked down at the little man who had sounded so young and so afraid only seconds ago. “I think he can,” she said loud enough for Charlie to hear. “He’s very brave, you know.”

She left the room and went downstairs, too awake now to sleep. The rain finally stopped. She pulled her jacket from the peg by the door and slipped outside.

She needed to walk.

M
OLLY WALKED THE DESERTED STREETS TOWARD HER
half-finished store. The dream she’d thought was her destiny when she came to Texas seemed of little importance now. All the sorrow of the past few days had brought her life into perspective. Wolf’s love had balanced it.

She had no idea of the time. Long after midnight, she guessed. She wasn’t afraid. With her black coat, she’d see anyone long before they’d see her. If she could find Wolf, she’d apologize and ask him to come home. But she doubted he would. By thanking him this morning, she’d hurt him. It was strange. He couldn’t stop saying he loved her, and she couldn’t start saying she loved him.

Her store loomed like a skeleton before her. For a while, she stood in the shadows and stared at it, thinking of how important it seemed only a month ago.

A yellow glow shone from Miller’s furniture and casket store, lighting the front part of the new drugstore’s frame. He’d worked hard, as he’d promised, to rebuild her place.

She moved a few feet closer to the light. Surely he wasn’t building something this late. How could the man work all day on her store and all night in his shop? He was money hungry, but not fool enough to kill himself by pushing too hard.

The curtains of his shop were pulled, but she could see shadows moving about inside. Maybe there had been several deaths, and he was building caskets. Without Charlie to help, it might take all night.

But she’d remembered hearing the faint tap of a hammer even from inside her store when he’d been working. Now, with only a glass window separating them, she heard nothing. A carpenter wouldn’t be practicing his trade this late.

She slipped along the side of the building, listening. There was no use wasting time telling herself to mind her own business. Something didn’t feel right, and she planned to take a closer look.

Voices drifted from inside the shop. Molly moved along in the shadows between stores so she could get close enough to hear.

A board in the walk creaked. She paused to make sure all was quiet then continued to inch closer to the building.

“Well, how long do you think it’s going to take?” an angry man shouted from inside. “We have to be on our way by dawn.”

Molly jumped back a step at the sudden sound, then slipped silently into place in the darkness so she could listen.

Miller mumbled something Molly didn’t understand. She leaned her ear against the wood, trying to hear through the wall.

“I don’t have that long. I’ve got to get the kid out fast without losing my own hide in the process.
You said you’d do this, Miller, and we’re paying you twice the money. If you even think about backing out, you’ll be building your own casket.”

Molly tiptoed into the total blackness beside the window, so she wouldn’t be seen by anyone from the street. She had to hear more.

She reached the shadows. Before she could take a breath, a hand closed over her mouth, and a punishing grip encircled her waist. Panic hit her like a lightning bolt. She fought wildly, but the grip only tightened, allowing no movement. Her foot hit the wall with a tap before she was jerked backward.

The smell of her attacker’s filthy hand almost made Molly faint. She could tell he was tall and thin but strong.

“Come along,” he hissed in her ear. “And don’t say a word if you want to be alive when we get to the little girl.”

Molly nodded that she’d cooperate, but he didn’t lessen his hold on her as he dragged her through the night to the back door of Miller’s shop. Her captor slammed her against the building so hard the air left her lungs. He opened the door and grabbed her before she could breathe or think of running.

When he shoved her into the light of the back room, she took a step, but he caught her by the hair and twisted it around his fingers. “Come along,” he mumbled again, dragging her down the narrow hallway lined with lumber. “The Diggers’ll want to see you.”

Molly had seen Francis Digger briefly when he’d flown through her store window, but she was unprepared for the sight of him now. Then, he’d been handcuffed and unarmed. Now he looked like a walking arsenal. Gun belts crossed his chest. Long Colts were strapped to his legs, and a rifle dangled from his hand like an appendage. Yet, as frightening as the guns were, his eyes were what made Molly’s blood freeze. Cold, heartless gray eyes, the exact color of a headstone.

Standing next to him was a man almost his twin, only more frightening.

“Where’d you find her?” Francis asked the lean man who yanked Molly along with him. Francis had a grin that twitched across his face as he glared at her.

“In the alley,” the thin man answered as he shoved Molly toward Carrell Digger. “She was hiding between them buildings trying to hear what was going on in here.”

The older Digger closed his fist around the material of her coat and pulled her within an inch of his face. She could feel his foul breath as well as smell it. The odor of rotting teeth and bad whiskey made her gag.

Then, just as suddenly, he let her go, shoving her toward the center of the room. “You know who she is, don’t you, Fran?”

Francis laughed. “She’s the captain’s woman. You know, killing him is too easy. How about we just take her along with us? He’s caused us nothing but trouble for years. It’s time we paid him back.”

Molly’s anger kept her from fainting. She’d been a fool to go out alone. A fool for not bringing a weapon. She had no way of defending herself, and she knew if she tried screaming, she’d be dead in a heartbeat. The three men watched her like coyotes inspecting a trapped rabbit.

She had no choice but to attack. “Where’s the child?” she demanded, as if a hundred armed guards stood behind her. “You better not have harmed Callie Ann.”

Francis seemed surprised by her tirade. It took him a moment to recover, then he slapped his brother on the back so hard Carrell staggered forward several feet. “Take her to the child.” He motioned with his rifle. “And tie her up. I’ll tell Miller we need another box.”

Carrell Digger’s hand closed around Molly’s arm with bruising force. He jerked her hard, first one direction, then the other, as if making sure she understood and would follow without trouble.