by Barbara Goss
“No, I love it here. I suppose one day, maybe in the wintertime, I’ll go home for a visit, but I feel so at home here.”
Elise felt him tighten his hold on her. “I’m glad.”
“What about you, Harlan? You never talk about personal things.”
“Are you saying I’m secretive?” He laughed.
“About some things. Tell me about the children’s mother—what happened to her, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Elise was shocked to hear Harlan’s deep laugh at her question. “There wasn’t a mother. Well, of course, there was, but I don’t know who she is.”
She stopped walking and stared up at him. In the moonlight, she could barely see his face, but she noticed the twinkle in his eyes. “What?” she gasped.
“I needed help with the stables, so I got the idea of getting a young man from the orphan train when it stopped in Hays. By the time I got there, Clay was the only young lad left. I tried to take him with me, but he had an encumbrance.”
“A what?”
Harlan laughed again. “A four-year-old little girl was clinging to him. It seems they were the last of their family left after an Indian raid. I had no choice but to take them both, but I never once regretted it. She’s the apple of my eye, as my grandmother used to say.”
Elise felt her insides glow with even more respect for Harlan Tanner.
In bed that night, Elise laid there, staring at Millie before turning off the lamp. She was such a precious child. Now, she understood why neither child resembled Harlan. Only a kind-hearted single man would take the child, too. There was a lot more to Harlan than she realized.
The summer evening walks continued, and Harlan always took Elise’s arm. They got to know each other better each night.
“What do you mean the kid’s never alone?” T.J. asked Troy.
“I’ve been sitting on the ground every day, waiting for a chance to grab the kid, but someone is always with her.”
T. J. rubbed his temples. “Let me think.”
“Tell me how the average Tanner day goes?”
Troy answered quickly, “It’s the same every day. The woman trains a horse in the front corral, the men are in the stables, and the little girl doesn’t come outside until after lunch. The woman takes her in the meadow for riding lessons. When they’re over, the woman goes back to training horses, and the girl hangs around the stables with her father and the woman. About six o’clock, they all go in to eat dinner. The housekeeper even walks her to the outhouse just before dark. I see the girl in the upstairs bedroom getting ready for bed, the light goes out, and that’s the end of their day.”
“Hmm.” T.J. continued rubbing his temples. “And school is out until fall harvest is over?”
“That’s what I hear.”
“Wait—they all go to church on Sunday, right?”
Troy nodded.
“I saw a sign in town advertising the yearly Sunday School Picnic. Surely, the Tanners will go to it. Maybe you can nab the kid there.” T.J. added, “I was also thinking of cutting Pete Swanson in on our raid. We need another person. What do you think? Can he be trusted?”
“So,” Troy said, “I grab the kid and run to a designated place with her, while you and Swanson steal the horses? Why can’t Pete steal the kid?”
“First, tell me—can he be trusted? You know him better than I do.”
“He’ll do anything for a piece of the action. I’d vouch for him.”
“I know the two of you have been friends, but are you sure you know him well enough to trust he’ll do what we need him to?”
“He’ll do it, but pay him off before we leave with the horses because we don’t want to cut him in on the profit from their sale.”
“Right. We just have to point the kid out to him so he knows who to grab.” T.J. smiled. “This should work.”
“What about the locked stables? Surely, the family will lock them tightly up before going to the picnic.”
“You and I will have plenty of time to chisel off the locks. The family, being gone for the day, will give us time to grab more horses, too.” T.J. grinned. “So, get Pete, take him to the ranch, and point the kid out to him. Then, we are good to go.”
Chapter Eleven
The annual church picnic was always held on the last Sunday in June, starting immediately after the service. It was the event of the year for Christ Church, Russell, Kansas.
The women walked into church carrying pots and covered dishes and left them on a table at the back of the church.
It didn’t feel like a regular church service because of the the excitement radiating off the congregation.
After the service, everyone rushed to the church's backyard, which was set up similar to a park. Except for the small graveyard adjacent to the picnic grove, it was lovely.
The church women bustled around, setting the dishes on the long wooden table that had been placed beneath a large shade tree.
Elise and Martha helped while Harlan and Clay stood within a circle of men, talking about horses. Millie played with some of her school friends nearby. Everyone was in high spirits, especially when the women announced that the food was ready.
Harlan could almost hear the table of food groan from the weight. Everything looked so good. He turned to get Millie, as every year he helped fill her plate or she’d just put the desserts on it, and he smiled when he saw that Elise had already taken Millie to the table and was helping her fill her plate. Elise! How lovely she looked that day, dressed like a proper lady in a crisp cotton dress with a square laced collar and pleated skirt.
Besides all the salads, vegetable dishes, and desserts, the picnics always had sandwiches for the main course since they were easiest to eat out of doors. Each sandwich was wrapped in a colorful cloth napkin and tied with a ribbon.
One of the women called out, “The sandwiches with the red ribbons are chicken, and the ones with the blue ribbons are beef.”
Harlan chose a beef sandwich. He took some beets, baked beans, and raw carrots. The sandwiches were made of finely chopped meat mixed with dill pickle and mayonnaise.
Benches and wooden chairs were set all around the yard, and people sat in groups to chat while they ate. Harlan kept his eye on Elise, Clay, and Millie to be sure they got their lunches and were settled. The women all sat on the opposite side of the yard, while Clay joined Harlan’s circle of men.
After the meal, the congregation members who were farmers always cleaned up, taking the scraps for their pigs or chickens.
Elise walked over to Harlan with a cool glass of lemonade. “I see you missed getting your lemonade. It’s very good.”
“Thank you,” he said, taking the glass from her. “Are you enjoying your first church picnic?”
“I truly am. Mrs. Smith said there would be a tug-of-war for the men and a sack race for the children. Millie’s excited. She’s picking out her sack, now.”
“Did you hear that, Clay? We won the tug-of-war last year. Think we might again?” Harlan asked, elbowing Clay.
“I’m in,” Clay replied. “As soon as I get another sandwich.”
“That boy can eat,” Harlan said when Clay had left them.
“He’s a growing boy,” Elise said, “and getting handsomer, too, I might add. Didn’t you notice who was standing beside him at the food table?”
Harlan turned to look. “No! Are you kidding me? Mrs. Smith’s daughter, Helen?”
“Shh,” Elise said. “I just have a hunch is all.”
Harlan laughed. “Well, good for him. He’s been talking about going to a barn dance all week, and now I think I know why.”
Elise said, “Well, good luck in the tug-of-war. I’m going to help Millie with her sack race.”
Harlan stood. “I’d better grab Clay. If you don’t mind, I’d like to set off for home before dark, say… about eight o’clock?”
“Oh, perfect. I’ll be ready. Millie and I will meet you and Clay by the buggy at eight.”
Elise t
ried to make her way to where the children were preparing for the sack race, but she had to stop several times when women stopped for a few words with her. She finally got to the stack of sacks surrounded by children, but Millie wasn’t among them. At first, she felt panic, then she calmed, reminding herself it was a church picnic and not a strange place. Millie was around somewhere.
She saw Sarah and Flora and asked calmly if they’d seen Millie.
“She was here a minute ago,” Sarah said. “We were fighting over the same bag.”
Flora said, “She went to the outhouse. She didn’t want to have an accident jumping in her sack after drinking three cups of lemonade.”
Elise inhaled. “Thank you, Flora. I’ll head over that way.”
After knocking on each of the four outhouse doors several times, Elise came to the conclusion that they were all empty.
She scanned the grounds thoroughly before becoming overly concerned again. The tug-of-war was going on, so she couldn’t yell to Harlan, yet she wanted his help to find Millie. She was starting to panic again. Tug-of-war or not, she had to get Harlan.
After once more scouring the area, she ran to where the men were laughing as they yanked a long thick rope. She grabbed Harlan’s shoulder, causing their team to slip over into the losing area.
Both Clay and Harlan looked at Elise with daggers in their eyes.
“This is urgent!” she cried. “Millie is missing. I can’t find her anywhere. Harlan, I’m scared.”
Harlan and Clay dropped the rope and ran with Elise back to the picnic area. “Are you sure?” Harlan asked.
“Millie,” he called. “Millie!”
“Clay,” Harlan yelled, “check our buggy. Maybe she’s upset and is sitting there.” He turned to Elise. “Have you checked the outhouses?”
“Yes. She’s not there.”
Harlan grabbed a bench, stood on it, and called for attention. “We have a missing child. Millie Tanner is missing. Could everyone please help us look for her?”
Everyone stopped what they were doing and ran in a different direction, looking in trees and bushes and calling out her name.
When no one found Millie, Elise collapsed to the ground on her knees and cried, “Dear Lord, please help us find Millie.” Several others fell to their knees to join her in prayer.
Harlan and Clay had even walked through the cemetery and into the nearby woods, searching.
Elise felt sick to her stomach. What could have happened to Millie?
When the sun had dipped beneath the horizon, it became impossible to search any further. Millie was gone. No one had seen anything suspicious, but several people had seen her go into one of the outhouses.
It was a quiet and somber ride home. Elise cried all the way. Harlan drove, but his temples throbbed, either with anger or worry, and Clay was simply shocked speechless.
Harlan stopped the carriage at the front porch. “I’m going to leave the buggy harnessed and off to the side, in case we need it again tonight.”
“Pa, look,” Clay yelled as he got out of the buggy, “the stable door is wide open.”
“What?” Harlan jumped from the buggy and ran to the stables. “The lock’s been busted.” He walked in, lit a lamp, and exclaimed painfully, “We’ve been robbed.”
Elise was at the kitchen table weeping when Harlan barged into the house and growled, “Where does that man you brought here live?”
“Do you mean T.J.?”
“Yes. Where is he? We’ve been robbed. Our racehorse and several other horses are missing. I think Millie may have been taken to give them more time to steal the horses.”
Elise’s brain felt frozen. Why would he suspect T.J.? She told Harlan, “He said he lives on the outskirts of Hunter’s Grove, not even ten miles from Russell. All I know is that it’s a cattle ranch.
“Do you really think T.J. had anything to do with stealing the horses and taking Millie?”
“Of course. It would take time to chisel off that lock, and he knew we wouldn’t be home before dark since we’d be searching for Millie.”
“Oh, no,” Elise felt a cold chill run through her, “and I’m the one who brought him here.” She burst into tears again.
“Clay,” Harlan ordered, “run back to town and get the sheriff and a posse. I’ll meet you there. We’ll find this cattle ranch. If they hurt one hair on Millie’s head, I swear I’ll kill them all with my bare hands.” Both men fled the house.
Elise knew Harlan was upset with her and rightly so. She’d brought T.J., a complete stranger about whom she'd known almost nothing, to their home. Talking to a stranger on a train was unladylike, and now she felt responsible for putting the most darling person in her life in danger. The pain she felt was like no other she’d ever endured.
She felt as if it were all her fault, and she had to do something to fix things, but what? What could she possibly do?
Millie stepped out of the outhouse, but before she could even close the door, a hand covered her mouth, and she was thrown under the arm of someone who whisked her briskly away. The man ran through the cemetery where he had a horse waiting. He stuffed a bandana into her mouth and tied her hands and feet. Millie didn’t make it easy for him to tie her up—she kicked and thrashed until the man finally slapped her across the face so hard it stunned her into momentary submission.
Once he had her lying across the saddle, galloping away, she dared not kick up a fuss or she’d fall from the horse and be trampled. She wondered which fate would be worse.
It wasn’t a long ride, but he kept circling the woods outside of town. He must have been waiting for darkness because as soon as the sun went down, he trotted to a shack. Once there, he tied her to a bed, took some gardening shears, and cut off one of her braids.
“I need this to prove I have you so I can get paid.” He left promptly with her braid, leaving her in darkness.
Chapter Twelve
Elise prayed in the sitting room, and she must have fallen asleep at some point. She awoke to Martha shaking her.
“Has anyone found our Millie?” she asked.
Elise shook her head. “Clay and Harlan have been gone all night, searching.”
“Oh, no,” Martha cried. “Why would someone want our Millie? Several of us women were out most of the night with torches, looking for her but there was no sign of her.”
“Not only that, but someone broke into the stables while we were gone and took several horses,” Elise said.
“They can have all the horses. We just want our Millie back.”
“I agree, Martha.”
Elise washed up, changed into a riding outfit, and rode into town. She stopped at the church to find the minister in his office.
“Excuse me, but I need some help. I need the addresses of some of the congregation. I won’t stop knocking on doors until I find someone who knows something or saw something yesterday about our Millie. Someone had to have seen something.”
The minister nodded. “Under these circumstances, I’ll gladly help you. He handed her a black book. Every regular member is listed here. We are all praying for Millie.”
“Thank you.”
Elise went from house to house, and while everyone was sympathetic and praying for Millie, no one could tell her a thing.
When she got to the Davidsons' home, she was invited in for tea. By then, she was exhausted, so she agreed. While Ruth Davidson prepared the tea, Elise looked around the sitting room. In the corner, sitting quietly, was their son, Billy. Everyone in church knew Billy because he was different. He had some mental issues. He was quite sane, but his behavior and speech were slow. He often made odd noises and had irregular movements. The doctors didn’t quite know what was wrong with him. He stared into space a lot, rarely spoke, and when he did, his speech was halted and slurred. Billy was about a year or so older than Millie.
Elise recalled Millie telling her about him. She had always tried to befriend him.
“Hello, Billy,” Elise said.
Billy raised a limp hand in a wave. Elise thought that at least he’d responded to her.
When Ruth returned with a tea tray, they began talking about what had happened to Millie at the picnic. Every so often during their conversation, Billy would let out a low growl. Elise tried to pretend she hadn't heard it, so as not to call attention to the sick child. She recalled how Millie would often bring him small drawings and books she’d read, so she knew that Billy liked Millie, and he was probably growling because of what had happened to her.
Having finished her tea, Elise stood. “I wish I could sit and chat more, but I have about twelve more families to visit. Someone had to have seen something.” She turned to leave and noticed Billy waving his arms frantically. She wasn’t sure if she should pretend not to notice or stop to talk to him.
Ruth said, “Billy, what is it? What’s wrong?”
“Don’t go,” he said, looking right at Elise.
Elise stooped down to Billy’s level and said, “I have to keep asking people questions. I have to find Millie.”
“Big man... took her,” he said. “He’s gonna... get me... if I tell.”
“What?” Ruth asked. “Who?”
Billy sighed. “The man... behind outhouse.” He stopped to wipe away a tear. “He grabbed Millie... saw me... and said, ‘quiet... you be next.’” Billy grabbed his mother’s dress. “Help me, Mama.”
“No one will get you, Billy,” Ruth said. “You are safe. Mama and Papa won’t let anything happen to you. It was very brave to tell us about what you saw.”
Elise patted the boy’s clenched fist. “You are very brave, Billy.”
Ruth asked gently, “Do you know who the man was?”
Billy shrugged. “Dunno... maybe—”
“Who?” Ruth prompted while Elise leaned in closer.
“I don’t know... at livery,” Billy said.
“Very good of you to remember that, Billy,” Ruth said. “What does he look like?”
