Micah reined his sorrel gelding to a halt beside the wagon. Will pulled up alongside him a second later.
“Micah caught me just as I was ready to ride back to the ranch,” Will said. “Have you found any sign of him?”
Caleb nodded. “We saw some tracks on this side of the creek, so we know he came this far, but I don’t know where to look next. He told Micah he was going fishing, but we didn’t see him anywhere along the bank. He could be down in the trees, or up in one of the storage caves, or anywhere else around here. Where do we start?”
Will gestured toward the line of approaching wagons. “We have enough people to do a thorough search, and more are on their way.” He hailed the new arrivals, waving them over to join the group, and raised his voice to be heard above the wind. “We don’t have much time, men. It’s already raining heavy up north, and the storm is on its way here. We have to find the boy quick—before a flash flood hits. Some of you head upstream, and some of you take the other direction. Better have at least one man on either side of the creek. We know he got this far, but he might have crossed back over at some point.
“The rest of you, fan out. We’ve got a big area to cover. Look in the underbrush, check the caves, anywhere you think a youngster might decide to go exploring . . . or hole up to get out of the wind. If you find him, fire off a couple of rounds to let the rest of us know.”
As the searchers hurried off, Will turned to Caleb and Melanie and pointed toward the trail. “Looks like more people are arriving. I’ll go meet them and get them organized.” He dug his heels into his horse’s sides and galloped off.
Caleb cast a glance around the open area and appeared to make up his mind. “He told Micah he was going fishing. Maybe that hole he spotted was down near where he and the rancher’s boy were setting off their fireworks on Founders Day. Let’s start there.”
Melanie laid her hand on his arm when he lifted the reins. “I think Will is right, we need to cover as much ground as we can. He and the other children were playing hide-and-seek up around the caves. Why don’t I look at them while you check the creek?”
Caleb held the horse steady while she climbed down from the wagon, then he drove off at a brisk trot.
Melanie sprinted off toward the nearest storage cave. She leaned into the opening and peered around the dim interior. “Levi? Are you here?”
No answer. Pulling her head back, she turned and ran to the second cave, farther along the cliffside. As she bent to look inside, her shawl snagged on the rocky wall, bringing her up short. She snatched it off with an impatient cry and tossed it on the ground. A quick check inside revealed only an empty darkness.
The third cave yielded no more results than the first two. Melanie looked at the next opening twenty yards away, unable to keep her thoughts from returning to the small tracks by the creek. If Levi had taken refuge in one of the storage caves, he might be lonely and afraid. But if he was down by the rushing waters of the creek, he could be in mortal danger.
Hiking up her skirt, she ran toward the stream. She could see Caleb off to her right, and a ragged line of volunteers moving along the bank. For a moment, she wavered, wondering if she had made a mistake in abandoning the caves to check the creek. She glanced to her left. The line of searchers hadn’t gotten that far. She could move beyond them and check the part of the creek that lay farther downstream.
She pushed her way through the trees, hearing the voices of other searchers calling Levi’s name farther up the bank. The dark, angry clouds building up overhead obscured the sun, making it seem more like dusk than midafternoon there in the shade of the trees and undergrowth.
Melanie ducked under an oak limb and made her way to the edge of the bank, struggling to keep her footing on the slippery mud while she kept a close lookout for any signs that would indicate Levi had come this way . . . or fallen into the creek.
She pressed forward, with the wind whipping her skirts and the bushes catching at her clothes. Rounding a bend in the creek, she spied a pool not far ahead on the other side of a fallen log. Levi’s fishing hole? It looked fairly deep.
A pile of debris lay trapped along the underside of the log. Melanie clambered onto the rotting trunk, praying she wouldn’t find Levi caught in the muddy water that swirled against a cut in the bank.
Her foot slipped on the water-soaked log, and she slid back a step. She tried again, bunching her skirts in one hand and using the other to grip a broken branch that protruded from the side of the trunk. Planting her foot atop the log again, she pushed herself up. She teetered for a moment, then regained her balance and looked for a spot farther along the log that would afford solid footing.
She moved slightly to one side and felt something press into the small of her back. She leaned forward, moving away from the obstruction. Before she could take another step, the pressure on her back increased, and a sudden thrust sent her tumbling.
With a shriek of terror, Melanie plummeted toward the roiling pool below.
Melanie heard the splash as she plunged into the pool. Then all sound was wiped away as the frigid water closed over her head. A moment later she bobbed up again, with her head above the surface. Opening her mouth wide, she sucked in a breath of air and tried to shout for help, but the weight of her waterlogged skirt pulled her down, dragging her under the surface again and cutting off her cry.
She kicked her legs, attempting to free them from the clinging fabric, and flailed her arms, trying to catch hold of something, anything, she could use to pull herself above the water.
Calm down, she admonished herself. She couldn’t help herself if she couldn’t think straight. She sank through the murky water and tried to focus her thoughts while her aching lungs screamed for air.
Her feet quickly touched bottom, and bending her knees slightly, Melanie pushed with all her might. The propulsion shot her back toward the surface.
The instant her face cleared the water, she let her breath out, then caught a precious lungful of air while her hands scrabbled for a handhold. This time her fingers touched a small branch extending over the pool. She gripped the slender stick and held on for all she was worth, using it to pull herself over toward the bank.
Clinging to the branch with one hand, she stretched out her other arm and grabbed for the bank. But when she tried to pull herself up, the dirt crumbled away, leaving her with nothing but a handful of slick mud balled in her fist.
Melanie kicked as much as the entangling skirt would allow, desperate to keep her head above water. The cold had begun to sap her strength, and she knew if she went down again, she might not come up.
The branch slackened in her grasp, and Melanie saw that it was about to give way. Looking around, she saw a partially exposed tree root several feet away. Pushing herself toward it as far as she could, she gauged the distance, then breathed a prayer and lunged for it. Her fingers touched the root and she hurried to wrap both hands around it.
The water seemed to grow even colder, and numbness seeped into her fingers. She didn’t know how long she could keep holding on. The murky water, stirred up by her struggle, splashed into her mouth, and she choked.
Melanie spluttered and coughed, knowing she wasn’t going to be able to make it out on her own—she had to get someone’s attention. “Help me!” she screamed. “Is anybody there?”
There was no answer. “Help me, Lord,” she begged. Pressing close to the bank, she heaved against the root and raised herself as far above the water as she could. Drawing on her last remnant of strength, she called out again. “Somebody, please! I’m in the water and I need help!”
Footsteps crashed through the underbrush, and a voice shouted, “Where are you?”
Melanie wanted to weep with relief. Taking a deep breath, she managed to choke out, “Here! I’m down here.”
A moment later, Caleb’s face appeared above the edge of the bank, and she saw him take in the situation at a glance. Kneeling, he reached down and clasped one of her wrists in both his hands.
She lay facedown for a long moment, digging her fingers into the dirt, reassuring herself she had escaped her watery prison.
Caleb bent over her, his anxious face peering into hers. “Are you all right? Can you breathe?”
Marshal Hooper ran up, followed by Andrew Bingham and two other men. “We heard shouting. Did you find the boy?”
“No. Miss Ross took a tumble into the creek.”
With Caleb’s help, Melanie struggled to a sitting position, then moved over to a dry log, where she sat huddled over with her arms wrapped around herself.
Caleb knelt in front of her, catching her hands in his and gripping them tight. “What happened?”
Melanie felt a pang of guilt. He was already frantic about Levi going missing, and she was only adding to his troubles. A shiver shook her from head to toe.
He pressed his hands tighter around hers. “Where’s your shawl?” Without waiting for an answer, he stood up and peeled off his coat.
“I took it off up there by the caves. I must have left it there when I came back to help look down here.”
“Here, you need to stay warm.” He wrapped the coat around her shoulders.
“Thank you,” she said, nestling into its warmth. “I was so scared,” she whispered. “I didn’t think I was going to get out of there.” She looked up and gave Andrew a shaky smile. “It looks like we cheated you out of some business.”
The barber, sometimes undertaker, looked puzzled for a moment, and then his face cleared and he laughed. “Think nothing of it. I’m more than happy to wait a long time for that kind of business from you.”
Marshal Hooper took up a stance directly in front of Melanie. “Tell me what happened,” he said in a gruff tone that caught her by surprise.
When she hesitated, Caleb looked up at the lawman. “She’ll be all right. She must have just slipped and fallen into the water.”
Melanie shook her head and looked up into Caleb’s eyes. “I didn’t fall. Somebody pushed me.”
28
What!” Caleb’s hands tightened on her shoulders.
Melanie spoke clearly, enunciating each word with care. “I didn’t fall in—I was pushed. Micah said Levi had spotted a fishing hole over here, so I wanted to take a look at that pool. I was trying to make my way over that log”—she pointed to the fallen tree—“when I felt someone’s hand on my back. The next thing I knew, whoever it was gave me a shove, and I fell in the water.”
Caleb’s face tightened. “You didn’t see who it was?”
“No, it happened too fast. In fact, at first I thought I’d backed into a branch. It wasn’t until I felt the push that I realized it had to have been a person.”
Caleb faced the group of men, his expression grim. “Have any of you seen O’Shea out here?”
“Not me,” Andrew said with a puzzled expression. “How about the rest of you?”
The others shook their heads.
Melanie gripped Caleb’s arm. “You think . . . ? Of course!” She scrambled to her feet and looked up at the marshal. “We found something you need to know about. Mr. O’Shea—”
The lawman cut her off with a wave of his hand. “Hang on a minute.” He turned to the onlookers and said, “The rest of you need to get back to searching. We have to find that little boy before the storm breaks.”
Realizing the marshal wanted to speak to her and Caleb in private, Melanie waited until the others were out of earshot. Then she blurted out, “We think Mr. O’Shea may be the one behind the murders.”
When Marshal Hooper raised his eyebrows, Caleb picked up the tale. “We found a newspaper clipping about Lucas Weber’s daughter being killed in Colorado.”
“And Mr. O’Shea lived in Denver before coming here.” Melanie leaned forward. “That’s quite a coincidence, don’t you think?”
“I’d have to agree with you,” the marshal said, “if I hadn’t just gotten another letter from Lydia Weber. She told me about her daughter’s death.” He drew an envelope from his jacket pocket. Reaching inside, he pulled out a photograph and handed it to Caleb. “And she enclosed a picture of the man responsible.”
Caleb’s jaw sagged. He stared at the paper, then looked back at the marshal. “Is this who I think it is?”
Melanie crowded close to him and peered at the image in his hand. Her eyes widened at the sight of the face that looked back at her. It was a younger face, and clean-shaven, but the features were unmistakable. She raised her head to meet the lawman’s gaze. “Doc?”
Marshal Hooper nodded. “No doubt about it. He’s changed his name, but it’s him, all right. There’s a lot more to the story, but we can go into that back at my office after we’ve found your boy. It doesn’t prove he’s the one behind all the deaths we’ve had around here, but there’s a definite connection between him and the Webers.”
Melanie stared in the direction the other men had taken. “Why didn’t you want the others to know? They could be on the lookout for him.”
The marshal snorted. “And if they found him, what then? You’ve seen for yourself how riled up this town has been. I intend to bring him to justice, but if word of this gets out before I get my hands on him, I’m likely to find him swingin’ from a tree branch.”
Two shots rang out in quick succession. Micah came running up, panting for breath. “They found him, Caleb. They found your boy!”
Caleb ran toward the sound of the shots, with Melanie right behind. When they reached the open meadow, they saw Will approaching with Levi in his arms. As soon as their paths met, Caleb reached for his son and held him close.
“I found him up in the farthest storage cave,” Will said. “It seems the little fellow crawled in there to get out of the wind, and then he fell asleep. He never heard us yelling for him. I wouldn’t have known he was in there, except for spotting his fishing pole leaning up against the cliff.”
Melanie clapped one hand to her mouth. If only she’d gone a little farther, she might have been the one to find Levi and end Caleb’s agony that much sooner.
Levi turned a tear-streaked face up to peer at Caleb. “I’m sorry, Papa. I shouldn’t have run away like that.”
Melanie choked back a sob. “I’m the one who needs to apologize, Levi. I should never have spoken to you that way.”
To her amazement, Levi reached out for her with one hand. She stepped closer so he could wrap his arm around her neck. The move brought her up against Caleb, who wrapped his own arm around her waist, and the three of them stood for a long moment in a tight, healing embrace.
“Looks like she’s made her choice.”
Melanie lifted her head to see Will bending close to Caleb’s ear. When Will saw her looking at him, he winked and moved away.
What did he mean by that? Brushing the question aside, she laid her head on Caleb’s shoulder. She might not understand the meaning of Will’s cryptic remark, but one thing she did know: This was her home, the place she belonged—right there in Caleb’s arms.
Caleb kept his arm around Melanie as they walked back toward the wagon, accepting the congratulations and well-wishes from the searchers. Rain began to sprinkle down, with large drops that splatted against their clothing and faces.
Micah looked up at the clouds. “We didn’t find him a minute too soon. It’s going to start coming down hard pretty soon, folks. Better get on the other side of the creek and head back to town.”
Melanie looked at Levi, snuggling against his father’s shoulder, taking in his tousled hair and the streaks of dirt on his face from lying on the floor of the cave. She suspected she looked even more bedraggled after her plunge into the creek. Pulling Caleb’s coat from her shoulders, she draped it around the little boy. “Here, we don’t want you to catch cold.”
Caleb
tucked the coat tighter around Levi. “But what about you? You’re the one who’s soaking wet.”
She touched her hand to her throat. “My shawl. It’s still up by the caves.”
Caleb started to hand Levi over. “I’ll run up and get it for you.”
She shook her head and smiled. “Stay here with Levi. He needs you. . . . You need each other. I’ll be right back. It will only take me a couple minutes, and I’ll meet you at the wagon.”
Caleb nodded, cradling Levi against his chest.
Melanie hurried toward the caves along the cliff side, finding the shawl just where she remembered leaving it. Snatching it up, she started back to rejoin Caleb. She had taken only a few steps when an eerie sound stopped her in her tracks. She cupped one hand around her ear to block out the noise of the wind and listened, straining to hear it again.
There. It came to her a little louder this time. It sounded like a moan, a cry for help.
Melanie spun in a circle, looking around her. Who else could be out there? The band of searchers had already started home. Had one of them been injured and unintentionally left behind?
Another moan. She followed the sound to the cliff wall, where she discovered a low opening partially screened behind a clump of sagebrush. She made her way over to it and knelt to call inside. “Hello? Is anyone in there?” She heard no words in response, only a low groan.
Her concern mounting, Melanie tossed her shawl across the sagebrush and crawled into the opening, peering into the dim interior. “Where are you? Are you hurt?”
A hand closed around her upper arm and yanked her inside. Melanie flew forward, sprawling on the hard ground. Before she could push herself up, her shoulders were seized in a viselike grip.
Melanie screamed, twisting on the ground, straining with all her might to break away.
The punishing hands dragged her backward, then wrapped around her from behind, holding her in a smothering embrace. Melanie could feel her captor’s chest pressing against her back and struggled in vain to turn enough to try to make out his face in the darkness.
Carol Cox Page 26
