McKade, Maureen

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by To Find You Again


  She entered the front room and found her mother and Sarah with their heads bent over something as they sat on the comfortable sofa.

  "What're you doing?" Emma asked.

  The two women jumped in guilty surprise and Sarah moved to block her mother from Emma.

  "Doing?" Sarah repeated too brightly.

  Emma crossed her arms. "What's going on?"

  "We have no idea what you mean, dear," her mother said innocently.

  Emma suspected it was some surprise for the wedding tomorrow, and didn't have the heart to spoil it for them. "Where's Chayton?"

  "He went out to help Rory," Sarah replied.

  "How long ago?"

  "A half an hour or so."

  "I think I'll go find him and let you two get back to doing nothing." Emma smiled sweetly.

  She refrained from laughing at Sarah's loud sigh of relief as she left them to their scheming. Outside, the sun was dropping toward the mountains. It wouldn't be long before twilight came and went, which meant the rising of the full moon. She shivered uncontrollably and wrapped her arms around herself.

  Where are you, Ridge? You said you'd be here.

  Emma spotted Rory leading a bay gelding that had cut his front right fetlock two days earlier. She was pleased to see the horse's limp was barely noticeable now.

  "Rory, have you seen Chayton?" she called out.

  The old hostler shook his head. "Ain't seen him since early this afternoon."

  "Sarah said he came out here half an hour ago."

  "Ain't seen him," he repeated with a frown, a deep crease between his eyebrows. "Check the barn. Maybe he's just playin' with them kittens."

  Emma was panting by the time she arrived at the barn and threw open the door. The kittens were nowhere to be seen. Neither was Chayton. Emma's anxiety turned to dread and her heart pounded so hard it made her dizzy.

  "He ain't there?" Rory asked, limping up behind her.

  "No. Where would he go?" she asked, her voice climbing.

  "I'll start lookin' around and as soon as the boys start comin' in, I'll have them help." Rory patted her shoulder awkwardly. "Don't you worry, Miss Emma. He probably just found a new place to play."

  Emma managed a nod and raced back to the house. Her cry brought her father out of his office, as well as Sarah and her mother from the parlor.

  "Chayton's missing," Emma announced, her voice thready. "Rory hasn't seen him and he's not in the barn. When he's not with Rory and the horses, he likes to play in the barn with the kittens, so I thought he'd be there, but he wasn't." She knew she was rambling, but it was either that or fall apart completely.

  "I'll get the men out looking immediately," her father assured, his mouth set in a grim line. "We'll find him, Emma."

  He grabbed his hat on the way out the door, his stride purposeful.

  "I'm sorry, Emma," Sarah cried. "I should've gone with him and made sure he made it over to Rory."

  "I'm sure he'll be fine, Emma," her mother reassured, although her face was wan. "Why, I'll bet they'll find him curled up someplace taking a nap."

  "I'm going to change clothes and help look for him," Emma said, her voice stronger.

  Without waiting for a reply, Emma flew upstairs and changed into the same split riding skirt and blouse she'd worn that morning to Ridge's. Within ten minutes, she was searching the ground for a sign of a scuffle. Although she wasn't a tracker like Ridge, she'd learned a few things from him and Fast Elk.

  Behind the barn Emma found what she was seeking. She called to her father, who joined her. She showed him the marks in the dirt—small boots and a larger set of footprints that weren't boots. Rather, they were moccasins.

  Hotah.

  Emma swayed and her father caught her arm.

  "Emma, are you all right?" he asked, wrapping a steadying arm around her shoulders.

  "It was Hotah, the Indian I told you about that Captain Rivers chased away."

  "You said he wanted Chayton. Why?"

  "He thinks Chayton should grow up to be a Lakota warrior. Hotah never liked me and when I took Chayton away, he must've followed me back here."

  Her father scowled. "I'll have one of the men ride to the fort and tell General Mason what happened. He should be able to assign some soldiers to help us search."

  Emma nodded absently, wishing with all her heart that Ridge were here. He would be able to make sense of the tracks. Besides, his confident presence would be a balm to her hysteria threatening to escape.

  Her father led her back to the barn and joined some of the hired hands who had just returned from the range. Emma waited until his attention was on them and then slipped into the barn to saddle Clementine. A rifle leaned up against a stall and she slid it into the scabbard on the saddle.

  She led the mare out the back door of the barn, hidden from the men, and began to follow the faint moccasin prints left behind. It would be night soon and she'd lose the trail in the darkness... except there was a full moon. More light. More danger.

  Tonight her vision would come to life.

  Chapter 23

  Ridge cursed the bad luck that had him arriving at the Hartwell ranch after sunset. As he rode closer, he noticed the activity around the outbuildings and corrals. Lanterns bobbed about, carried by men who appeared to be looking for something.

  Looking for what?

  He dismounted in front of the house and his blood grew cold when he saw the door standing open. He took the steps with one leap and strode into the foyer.

  "Emma! Emma, where are you?" he shouted in the house.

  Sarah scurried around the corner, her eyes red-rimmed. "Ridge, I'm so glad you're here."

  He grasped her cold hands. "What is it, Sarah? Where's Emma?"

  Sarah shook her head, strands of blond hair falling around her face. "We don't know. First it was Chayton, and now Emma's missing, too."

  The air in Ridge's lungs whooshed out as if he'd been gut-punched. He led Sarah to the front room and set her down in a chair. "Tell me everything."

  Sarah described how Chayton disappeared, then Emma an hour later.

  "Who saw Emma last?" Ridge asked, trying to keep his impatience reined in. "Father, I think."

  Ridge turned to leave, but Sarah latched onto his wrist. "Find her and Chayton. Just like you did before," the girl pleaded.

  Ridge gave her hand a squeeze and managed a shaky smile. "I will. I promise."

  Outside, Ridge found Hartwell saddling up with a dozen hired hands.

  "Madoc, I'm glad you're here," Hartwell said with sincere relief. "Emma and Chayton are missing."

  "Sarah told me. Were there any tracks?"

  "Emma found some. I was getting the men organized to follow them and the next thing I know, she's gone." Hartwell's eyes couldn't hide his grief.

  "Show me the tracks."

  Two minutes later, Ridge knew. "It was Hotah or Cullen—both of them wear moccasins."

  "Emma said it was Hotah," Hartwell said.

  Ridge gazed down at the track, noticing it was the smaller of the two moccasin prints he'd been following all day. He nodded. "I think she's right." He pointed to the shod horse's tracks beside it. "And that's Emma's horse. I recognize the chipped shoe on the left rear foot."

  "She must be following them herself."

  Ridge curled his trembling fingers into his palms. Hotah wouldn't hesitate to take Emma if he knew she was behind them, alone.

  Struggling to curb his rage and foreboding, Ridge led the search party through the increasing darkness. He glanced up to catch an eyeful of the full moon, which would give him enough light to follow the trail. It also reminded him of Emma's dream, which was starting to make sense. Hotah was the mountain lion, intent on stealing the cub Chayton.

  But who was the eagle? Cullen?

  The only thing Emma could hear was the pounding of her heart. The nocturnal creatures had gone silent, even the nighthawks that usually began to skirl as soon as it darkened. Emma had managed to keep on the trail, alth
ough it was nonexistent in some places. But she'd been able to pick it up again each time, and knew deep down inside that she was on the right track.

  An owl hooted and Emma froze, her gaze flitting across the branches of the scrub oak around her. There. Twin orbs reflected golden light.

  "Whooo-whoooo."

  The owl from her vision. Which meant Chayton was near. She peered through the brush and spotted a dim light—a small campfire. Her pulse doubled and Clementine shied, sensing her nervousness.

  "Easy girl," Emma soothed, running a calming hand along the horse's withers.

  Emma dismounted and let the reins drop to the ground. Cold fire licked through her veins. She should go back and get her father and the others, but what if Chayton and his kidnapper left? Or she couldn't find her way back?

  She would get closer, but not try anything herself. Hotah could easily overpower her, just as the mountain lion overpowered the wolf.

  Grabbing the rifle from the boot, Emma crept nearer to the fire, keeping low on the ground and ignoring the scratches from twigs and branches. As she approached, she could see a small bundle lying on the ground. She paused to look more closely and recognized Chayton curled up, his upper body moving up and down with his even breaths. He was probably exhausted.

  Biting her lower lip against tears of relief, Emma shimmied closer until she was lying behind a growth of brush and could see Chayton's kidnapper.

  Only it wasn't Hotah. It was Cullen's greasy buckskins and long stringy hair.

  "Come on out, Emma," Cullen suddenly hollered out. "i know you're there."

  Emma's breath caught and her heart skipped a beat, then another. She remained motionless.

  "Don't play games. You don't come out, i hurt your bastard." He grabbed Chayton's arm, jerking the boy up and against his chest.

  Emma's hands closed on the rifle and she lifted it to her shoulder. Sighting down the barrel, she found Chayton too close to Cullen to risk taking a shot. Her hands shaking, she closed her eyes briefly, her chest squeezing and her mouth desert-dry. She set the rifle on the ground and pushed herself to her feet slowly. "I'm coming. Don't hurt him."

  On legs that felt like they belonged to someone else, Emma staggered into the fire's circle of light. She stopped shy of Cullen's reach.

  His lecherous gaze roamed over her, making her feel soiled. "Get over here, Emma. I been locked up for four days and I'm hornier'n a toady frog."

  Emma felt like throwing up. One glance at his crotch confirmed his words. She stepped back reflexively.

  "Ina?"

  Chayton's frightened voice grabbed her attention and her heart thudded at the lost look on his face. "Yes, Chay, I'm here."

  "Home?" he murmured.

  "Soon," she promised.

  "Don't bet on it." Cullen wrapped his arm around Chayton's small neck.

  Emma started toward them. "No! Leave him alone!"

  "You don't do as I say, and I'm gonna have to hurt him again."

  In the fire's flickering light, she spotted a bruise forming on her son's right cheekbone and a swollen lower lip.

  Rage buried her fear. "What did you do to him?"

  "Bastard tried to run off after I got rid of Hotah." Cullen laughed, the sound like glass on a blackboard. "Stupid Injun said he had to have the kid before we left the territory. Threatened to slice my neck iffen I interfered. He's the one who ended up with a knife in the back."

  "You murdered Hotah? Just like you tried to kill Captain Rivers."

  Cullen shrugged. "The Injun wasn't useful no more. And now I got me six repeatin' rifles to sell. Figure it's a good deal all around."

  "Except for Hotah."

  "Why're you cryin' over him? He's the one who stole your kid from the ranch. I told him not to bother, but the stubborn redskin didn't listen. And now I got me a kid to sell, too. Too young to bring much, but I'll get somethin' for my time."

  Emma's eyes widened and her insides twisted into a knot. What Cullen planned to do was so appalling, so horrible that she was robbed of speech.

  "Get over here, Emma. Now!" Cullen tightened his hold around Chayton's neck and the young boy's mouth gaped as he clawed at Cullen's arm. The brute didn't even notice his struggles.

  Emma obeyed immediately, falling to her knees beside the foul-smelling Cullen. "I'll do anything you want! Just stop hurting him."

  Cullen released Chayton, who dropped to the ground and Emma swooped him into her arms. He was trembling and she could feel his heart pounding in his chest. "Shhhh, it's all right, Chayton. You're safe now."

  "Not for long if you don't do like I tell you," Cullen growled.

  More terrified for Chayton than herself, she leaned as far away from Cullen as she could and eased her arms away from her son. "Run away," she whispered in his ear. "Find Leksi."

  As she turned back to Cullen, she heard Chayton scramble to his feet and into the brush.

  Cullen roared and jumped up to chase the boy. Emma grabbed one of his legs, unable to trip him, but stopping him from his pursuit. Cruel fingers twisted in her hair and tugged her to her feet. Tears filled Emma's eyes, but as long as Cullen was busy with her, the more time Chayton had to escape.

  "You'll pay for that, squaw woman." He backhanded her and the world spun crazily, nearly driving her to unconsciousness. She struggled to clear her muddled thoughts as her cheek throbbed from the blow.

  She had no illusions about what he planned for her, and she knew without a doubt the mountain lion would beat the wolf. But what of the eagle?

  Ridge cursed as he rolled the body over. Hotah. He'd been killed by a knife to the back—same method Cullen had tried with Colt. But this time he'd succeeded.

  "Who is it?" Hartwell asked from atop his horse.

  "Hotah."

  "The one Emma thought kidnapped Chayton?"

  "The same."

  "Who—?"

  "Probably Cullen. Double-crossed Hotah." Ridge rubbed his brow, wishing he could press the ache away. It robbed him of his usual alertness and made him impatient, tense, and he needed his wits if he was to find Emma and Chayton. "Have one of your men take the body back."

  Hartwell's frown was evident in the moon's glow. "I'm not going to send a man back who can help search."

  "Look, Hartwell, the trail pretty much ends here. Between what little light we got and the rocks, we ain't going to be picking up a trail until morning." Although Ridge fully intended to remain searching for Emma and Chayton, he figured a dozen men bumping into each other in the dark would only hinder him.

  "I'm not leaving my daughter and grandson out there with a murderer."

  Ridge's irritation was diminished by Hartwell's concern for both Emma and Chayton. "I don't want to do it anymore than you do, but we don't have a choice unless we just want to stumble around blind."

  "We can split up, each man taking a section. If someone finds Emma, it'll be two shots; Chayton, three."

  Although Hartwell's suggestion was like shooting fish in an ocean, Ridge reckoned it was better than doing nothing and he wouldn't be saddled with a crowd trailing after him. He nodded. "We'll do it your way. Just make sure your men go slow and easy."

  Hartwell seemed surprised by Ridge's acquiescence. "All right."

  After giving the orders to his men and having one of them take Hotah's body back, Hartwell turned back to Ridge. "Good luck, Madoc."

  Ridge nodded once. He listened to the men move away, keeping their horses to a walk. He climbed back into Paint's saddle and patted the horse's neck. "Let's go find 'em, fella."

  Paint snorted and they continued the search. Half an hour later, Ridge removed his hat and raked his hand through his hair in frustration. He might as well be riding in circles for all the good he was doing. He hadn't caught a glimpse of anything remotely resembling a trail.

  With Hotah dead, why had Cullen kept Chayton? The scout had wanted Emma at one time, but not her boy. Unless he had some use for him.

  What if Cullen had both Emma and Chayton? After see
ing how Cullen treated his squaw, Ridge knew what awaited Emma. Loathing surged up from his belly. He couldn't stop. He had to find them.

  The rustle of an owl's wings caused Ridge to swivel in his saddle. He spied the large bird flying between a patch of scrub oak to land on a high branch. A chill settled down Ridge's spine and he urged Paint forward, toward the tree where the owl perched. As soon as Ridge neared it, the owl leapt from the branch, opened its wings and dipped past Ridge to fly ahead.

  Without hesitation, Ridge urged Paint after the owl. He wasn't certain he believed Emma's dream visions, but he did believe in his gut, and it told him to follow the owl. Twice Ridge thought he lost the bird of prey, but the owl reappeared in front of him both times. Afraid to think about it too much, Ridge just concentrated on keeping it in sight.

  Finally, the owl landed on another scrub oak and began to preen itself. Ridge stood in his stirrups and looked around the silver-gilded wilderness. A light flickered in the distance. Ridge urged Paint on once more, until he came to another horse, saddled and ground-reined. He dismounted and examined the mare closer. Clementine.

  A woman's cry broke the silence. Cold fire froze Ridge's blood and he shoved through the underbrush toward the camp. One look told him everything: Emma, trying to kick and claw Cullen as the son of a bitch ripped at her clothes.

  Ridge charged toward them.

  AN eagle's scream froze Emma. For a split second, Emma stared into the black eyes of a sharp-taloned eagle as it dove toward them. Then the eagle was gone and in its stead was Ridge, colliding with Cullen. The villain released her as he tried to defend himself and Emma rolled away. Terror pumped blood through her veins as she scuttled backward on her hands and knees.

  Her breath came in fast, jerky gasps as she watched Ridge and Cullen roll around on the ground. Ridge landed a fist in Cullen's face. The taller man barely flinched and brought up his knee between Ridge's legs. Ridge rolled away, grimacing and panting. Cullen jumped up and attacked Ridge with a roar of fury. Ridge bounced to his feet and spun away, causing the other man to pause.

 

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