by Jodi Thomas
Hunter believed the ride from town to the Triple C was the longest he’d ever made in his life except for the one following the funeral of his father. He wiped those horrific memories from his mind. The early spring made the prairie colorful but he didn’t enjoy a second of it. All he had on his mind was being betrayed by Laurel, yet at the same time a serious need to find her and hear her explanations overwhelmed him. Something deep inside was keeping him from crucifying her until he’d heard all of the story. A nagging sensation made him think she was in danger.
When he reached the ranch, he quickly tied his sorrel to the hitching post outside of the main house and stomped up the stairs, not giving a rip whether he dirtied the floors or not.
“Mother!” he bellowed and walked into the dining room, where she sat eating breakfast.
“I know my hearing isn’t what it used to be, darlin’, but you don’t have to holler,” she said lovingly.
Setting her coffee cup down, she looked up and Hunter could see by the look on her face she knew trouble had arrived and all hell was about to break loose ... especially if she was instrumental in any of the problems that had led to Laurel’s seeming disappearance.
“What’s wrong, Hunter?” Her tone turned serious.
“Have you seen Laurel Womack?”
“Not since yesterday afternoon.” Melba Ruth bit at her lip. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it? She’s in danger.”
“How do you know?”
“Sit down, and have some breakfast. We need to talk.”
“Thanks, but I’m not hungry.” Hunter’s stomach was tied in knots, but he took a seat and let his mother pour him a cup of coffee.
“I’ll tell you the honest truth, son. You know we’ve always been competitive and that’s been the fun part of raising a son like you, but I’d never do anything to ruin the trust we have.” She reached over and touched his hand.
“I know, Mama. Tell me what went on yesterday out here with Laurel and the Wilson sisters.” He took a sip of tasteless coffee. “And what do you know about the article in the newspaper?”
It was obvious by his mother’s expression that she knew nothing about what had been published.
Hunter shoved the paper across the table, and waited while she read the article. She laid it down when she was finished and exhaled deeply. Concern creased her forehead.
“Son, all Ruby and Pearl were supposed to do was have the owner of the newspaper print up some flyers to put all over town announcing the men’s project, as we understood it from the meeting ...”
Hunter wanted to rip into her about having spies at the meeting, but now wasn’t the time. He’d save that for another discussion. “So they were supposed to do flyers?”
“Yes, and if I had to venture a guess, Pearl got all excited and got the facts bassackwards. She could have easily confused the printer,” she said.
Over two cups of coffee and dry toast, Hunter’s mother filled him in on everything that had gone on the day before among the women, ending with, “Laurel absolutely, unequivocally turned down my request to head up the library committee. The note I gave Ruby had the instructions for the flyers and said nothing at all about you or Laurel.” Tears welled in her eyes. “I’d do nothing to hurt that girl. She means as much to me as if she were my own daughter.”
“I know, but there’s something going on with her uncle.” Hunter told her about spending the night with Laurel in the wagon yard and that she and her uncle apparently had had words. “The thing that keeps gnawing at me is why didn’t she have money to stay at the hotel? You told me once that her uncle was the trustee of her parents’ estate and there was a substantial amount of money. I hadn’t thought of that until now. She acts like she’s a pauper.” Hunter dropped an uneaten piece of toast on his plate.
“That’s the reason her uncle fired me.” Melba Ruth took a deep breath. “I came across her parents’ will and trust agreement one day when I was cleaning his study. I know I shouldn’t have, but I read it.” Another tear cropped up in her eye. “It was wrong of me to invade anyone’s privacy, but I was much less mature and a whole lot more nosy then than I am today.” She gave him a pleading look to please believe her.
Before he could say anything, she continued, “There’s something else you need to know.” She took a deep breath and it was obvious what she had to say next hurt deeply. “I was sworn to secrecy, but it’s apparent to me that Laurel means more to you than anyone ever has, so you need to know.”
“What, Mother?” He almost lashed out at her, then softened his voice. “What do I need to know?”
“Elizabeth Duncan confided in me that Laurel’s parents committed suicide. I was employed by the Duncans at the time, and I overheard her uncle telling Laurel on more than one occasion that it was her fault because of all of the luxuries she had become accustomed to. There was nothing her parents wouldn’t give their only child. If it hadn’t been for her, she’d still have her parents.” Color was beginning to come back to Melba Ruth’s face. “I never believed it for a minute.”
“Neither do I,” Hunter said. “I guess that’s why she didn’t want to talk about their deaths.”
“Suicide brings with it a certain amount of social and religious stigma, and her uncle pounded that into her head. It wasn’t to be spoken of.”
“Do you think Gideon had anything to do with her parents’ deaths?”
Hunter’s mother sat silently for a long time, obviously mulling over things in her mind, while Hunter worried about how he was going to go about finding Laurel Dean. Who had taken her and for what reason?
“I’m not sure. I know he went down to San Antonio to help them out with their finances. Elizabeth told me that much. They owned cotton gins, I believe, and weren’t doing as well as they should. Nobody would loan them money, and they couldn’t take the embarrassment, so they took their own lives. That’s what Elizabeth was told by her husband.
“At Laurel’s tender age, she was lucky that her uncle had come to town to take care of business,” she said, then stopped and stared ahead. “I remember thinking when I saw the will and trust that it was signed the day before their deaths.” She got back on her original line of thought. “So if it hadn’t been for her uncle, Laurel would have ended up in an orphanage. I remember Elizabeth Duncan saying one time that Laurel’s parents couldn’t handle their business failures compared to Gideon’s successes. He was a lawyer long before he was a banker,” Melba Ruth pointed out.
Hunter nodded. “How’d they commit suicide?”
“I don’t know, I just heard rumors that it was arsenic.” She rubbed her forehead. “I wish I could remember all of it, but it’s been so long ago. Laurel’s mother and Gideon had just inherited the bank in East Texas from their father shortly before this happened. I think Victoria was the one who told me that. Can’t count the times I heard her braggin’ about how rich they were but resented every penny they had to spend on Laurel’s schooling. I just can’t remember it all.” A frightened look came over her face but it took her a while to put her thoughts into words. “Something just hit me. Laurel might be in more trouble than either of us realizes.”
Hunter’s chest grew tight and he couldn’t breathe. How much worse could this get? “What is it, Mother?”
“I remember distinctly reading that Laurel is to get her inheritance when she turns twenty-five and that’s—”
“Valentine’s Day!”
Hunter almost tipped his chair over when he rose to his feet.
Melba Ruth physically began to shake, but her son rounded the table and put his arm around her. “It’s okay, Mama. I’ll find her.” He kissed her lightly on the forehead.
From the distance, the neigh of a horse mixed with Hunter’s sorrel’s response filled the air. Help had arrived ... Buckey had come to bring Laurel Dean home.
Hunter grabbed his Winchester from above the fireplace in the study and hit the front door, just in time to see Stubby Johnson reign in his horse, and say, “You ain’t g
oin’ nowhere without me, son. I followed that stupid hammerhead from hell and back, and ain’t about to stop now.” He wiped the sweat from his forehead. “He’ll lead us to Miss Laurel.”
Chapter 13
The stifling dust, dirt, and mold in the old abandoned wooden line shack where Laurel was being held captive choked her. The smell of burnt wood still lingered in the air. Although she’d pled for some water to stop her coughing, Gideon Duncan had only wielded his pistol in the air and demanded she hush up.
Shivers ran up and down her spine, and she felt about as cold as if she had been tossed into an icy stream in the dead of winter.
Laurel kept a watchful eye on Gideon, whom she had stopped thinking of as her uncle hours before.
“What did I do to make you hate me so much?” Laurel asked.
She received the same answer she’d been getting to any of her questions.
“Shut up!” Gideon wiped sweat from his forehead and lumbered along in front of her, pacing. His huge body filled the room with the smell of sweat and musk, enough to gag most people.
Unbearable anger rose within Laurel for allowing Gideon to trick her into going with him instead of waiting for Hunter at the livery. She wasn’t sure what Gideon was capable of although she’d witnessed his temper many times over the years. She tried to understand why the deception, but couldn’t.
She should have known that he didn’t just come to his senses and change his mind about her. He hadn’t suddenly decided to ignore the things he’d said the day before and welcome her back into the fold. But she had wanted so badly to hold on to the little bit of a family she had left that she allowed herself to be taken in by him. He had convinced her that he was remorseful for having made demands on her. He’d said he was wrong for trying to rule her life and wanted to make amends. He even went so far as to tell her that he had a building the bank owned that would make a good place for a hat shop. If she liked it, he’d give it to her.
To celebrate their new beginnings, he asked her to take a ride with him, just to enjoy the morning air and to reinforce their renewed respect for each other. He had promised she’d be back in time to meet Hunter.
Now her world was being torn apart, yet an overwhelming determination filled her soul. She would not allow him to hurt her. She tried to get her bearings. Although she wasn’t exactly sure where he’d taken her, she was fairly certain it was Triple C land.
The longer Gideon paced the dirt floor, the more agitated he became, kicking up dust and charred timbers as he walked.
Had he gone mad?
As he’d done for the last two hours, he haphazardly wielded a pistol like a crazed animal. Laurel was more concerned that the weapon would discharge accidentally than him actually killing her. She knew her uncle was a lot of things, but a murderer he was not ... or at least she prayed that was the case.
Think, Laurel, think! Laurel said over and over to herself.
As much as she disliked giving Gideon the honor of having “Uncle” in front of his name, she didn’t want to antagonize him, and said, “Uncle Gideon, what did I ever do to you for you to hate me as much as you do?”
He pulled the weekly newspaper from inside his coat and laid it down on the ground. She had to crane her neck quite a bit but read the article.
Laurel didn’t want to believe what she read. “I am not the president of the women’s group and had nothing to do with this article,” she said softly, perplexed as to where the newspaper had gotten the erroneous information, but she wouldn’t be surprised if Pearl had gotten confused, since she fairly well lived in a world of her own.
“You ruined it all by working with those women to get things all stirred up about the railroad, when I’ve got to have it to survive. Without it, I’ll lose everything.”
Why did the railroad mean so much to him except for what it’d bring him as a businessman? How could he lose everything if the railroad bypassed Farley Springs?
“You made it so easy for me when you walked out last night and ran into the arms of Hunter Campbell,” Gideon said. “I hadn’t planned on your accidental demise until just before your birthday, but you gave me the perfect opportunity. Everyone knows we fought and you ran off.”
Like an explosion, true fear like none she’d ever experienced in her life ramrodded her body. The words accidental demise bounced off every part of her mind.
What had she ever done to him to make him want to hurt her?
“I know you’ve always felt you were saddled with me and put upon because you just happened to be there when my parents died and ended up having to bring me back to Farley Springs, but why do you want me dead? Surely you’re not that insecure that you think my relationship with Hunter would affect you in the least.”
He took a step toward her and slapped her across the mouth with the back of his free hand, forcing her head to snap backward. “Shut up. Just shut up.” Anger blazed in his eyes. “I’m not insecure!”
She raised her hands up enough to use her sleeve to wipe the blood from her mouth. “At least, I deserve to know why you want me dead. I know it isn’t because of whatever you think my involvement with the women’s group might be.” The salty taste of blood assaulted her mouth. “And it has nothing to do with Hunter, so tell me the truth.” She looked him straight in the eye, not backing down in the least. “If you’re going to kill me, you owe me that much. I’ve lived with the guilt and unknown too many years to carry it with me to the grave.”
“You really don’t know, do you!” He eyed her like a caged animal. “All that money spent on schooling and you didn’t get anything but book learning. They didn’t teach you enough to be able to see the truth when it hit you in the face.”
Pools of sweat collected on Gideon’s forehead, although the air was cold. His breathing became more labored and his chest heaved when he spoke.
Deep inside, Laurel had known for a long time that not everything added up with the story she’d always been told about the events surrounding the deaths of her parents, but she had nowhere to turn and no one to ask to find out the truth.
For months after they died, she lived in a haze, going to school and not really caring one way or another about much of anything. She’d even learned to accept the ugliness of her resentful, bratty cousin.
Gideon Duncan continued his pacing, as if not knowing what his next move would be, while keeping a gun on his captive. It was becoming more obvious that the man who normally calculated his every move was becoming more confused and agitated.
If Laurel could stay calm and not say anything to set him off, maybe she’d best him and survive. Unless she played his game against him, she was a dead woman and she knew it.
Hunter’s advice from his father raced through her mind: never put anything on the table, be it money or property, unless you can afford to lose it.
Laurel made a crucial decision. If she could keep him talking about the past, it’d keep his mind off the present.
The one question she wanted answered the most was the hardest to ask, but she couldn’t leave this world without knowing. It was the core to everything that had ever happened to her. “How did Mama and Daddy die?”
He let out a nervous sigh and his expression clouded in anger. “You haven’t figured that out.” His nostrils flared in fury. “Then you’re more stupid than I thought.” Like the trained lawyer he was, he avoided her question while erecting smoke screens for distraction.
A shadow beyond Gideon caught her eye, but she quickly lowered her gaze, not sure if it was a tree limb blowing in the wind or maybe a tumbleweed. But she prayed it was help. Surely someone had seen them leave the livery and thought it odd.
Tiring, Gideon leaned against one of the two walls that could hold his weight, wiped his forehead, but kept his pistol aimed on her. Possibly he’d seen the same movement as she had, because he alternated his gaze between the opening and her.
He steadily slid down the wall as slow as molasses running uphill until he reached the floor, while k
eeping an eye peeled on her.
Afraid to say much, Laurel tried to untie her hands, but he’d bound the leather strips too tight. A burst of cold air came through the opening that was once a door. Cold shivers ran over Laurel. Thoughts of Hunter’s coat around her to keep her warm made the waiting bearable.
She racked her brain trying to figure out why Gideon wanted her dead; other than she’d become an albatross around his neck.
“If you won’t tell me about my parents’ death, then I deserve knowing why you want me dead,” she demanded, trying not to aggravate him more than he already was.
“You don’t need to know anything.” His lips thinned with anger. “If you’d just done what I told you to do and not got involved with the Campbell bunch.”
“I don’t understand how being friends with them caused a problem for you.”
“You wouldn’t. You twit.”
“But you and Hunter are working together to bring the railroad to town.”
“And it would have happened except you decided to get all high and mighty on us and sabotage the whole thing.”
Laurel wanted so badly to argue with him, but decided the best approach would be to patronize him. “I’m not the president. That article is misleading. I only made Melba Ruth Campbell believe that I wanted to help. I can see now that paving the streets would be more beneficial. She offered me a job, but I didn’t take it, because I knew you’d come through at the bank.”
Think, Laurel! Stay calm and cool. Don’t let him get under your skin.
“I want to know what I ever did to you ... so I can change it.” She once again found herself playing coy with him.
“I never planned on having to deal with you for the rest of my life.” A sudden thick chill hung on the edge of his words. “The last thing I needed was another brat to deal with.”
“What are you going to do with me?”
“I haven’t decided. There’s an abandoned well out there. Nobody has been here at this line shack for years, not since it burned down when the prairie fire got most of the Campbell land, including their house. Nobody would ever look for you here.”
