by Jo Goodman
Noah took one of the lighted candles, cupping the flame to keep it from going out, and shoved the candelabrum into Henry's hands. "See to Sally," he said tersely. "I have to find Cam. Jessa, stay with Henry."
Jessa ignored him. As Noah turned toward the staircase Jessa lifted the hem of her gown and hurried past him. He reached for her but she pulled away and ran up the steps, calling for Cam and Gideon. Noah went after her, taking the stairs two at a time until he caught her at the top.
"Take this candle," he said roughly. "And stay behind me. You can't go charging around here. There's no guarantee we're alone in the house."
The flame flickered wildly as Jessa's trembling hands closed around the candle. "I have to find Gideon," she said, her voice a bare thread of sound. "I have to!"
Noah said nothing. He couldn't bring himself to raise Jessa's hopes when he felt none himself. Nothing he had seen downstairs had led him to believe they had been robbed. The intruder's presence in their home had a far more sinister motive than simple theft Noah opened the door to Gideon's room cautiously while Jessa held up the candle behind him.
Cam was slumped beside Gideon's bed. There was a livid bruise on the side of his face and a trickle of dried blood at the corner of his mouth. The deep basin where Cam had been bathing the infant was overturned. Cam was sitting in a puddle of water. His hair was plastered wetly to his head and the neck of his blue smocked shirt was soaked. Gideon was not in the room.
Jessa bit back the cry that welled in her throat. It wasn't difficult. She felt as if there were no air in her lungs. Jessa used the candle to light the oil lamp on the nightstand, then she knelt beside Cam as Noah bent over him. "Is he going to be all right?" she asked.
Cam moaned softly as Noah lightly touched his shoulder. A moment later he blinked owlishly though his stare, as it alternated between Noah and Jessa, was vague.
"Bring the lamp down here," Noah told Jessa. "Hold it in front of his eyes."
Jessa did as she was told. Cam's pupils contracted. "What does that mean?"
"It means he doesn't have an injury to his head," said Noah. "All right. You can put it back. Cam? What happened tonight? Where's Gideon?"
Cam drew his knees to his chest and cradled his head in his hands. His lower lip quivered slightly as he sucked in his breath. "I was putting Gideon in the wardrobe when I heard Sally shouting." He started to rise but Noah held him back by placing his hand firmly over Cam's shoulder.
"Let me look," he said. But Jessa was already ahead of him. He watched her open the wardrobe, feel blindly along the base of it, and step back empty-handed.
"Oh, God," Cam sobbed when he saw Jessa's white face. "I th-thought he would be s-safe there. I d-didn't know w-what else to do."
Henry's uneven steps in the hallway stopped Noah from responding. "Sally?" he asked as Henry came into the room.
"She's sitting up. Still woozy. How's the boy?"
"Cam will be fine."
"Gideon?"
"We don't know where he is." Noah turned his attention back to Cam, though he was very aware of Jessa's fragile state as she leaned against the closed wardrobe. "Tell us what happened." He squeezed Cam's shoulder as the boy steadied himself to respond.
"I was up here putting Gideon to bed when I heard someone at the door. I didn't give it a thought 'til Sally started hollerin'." He looked apologetically at Jessa. "It happened so quick, ma'am. All the noise and shoutin', and then it got so quiet and I didn't know what to do. I heard someone on the stairs so I put Gideon in the wardrobe, you know, to protect him, and I scooted under the bed. Only Booker sees me and drags me out and—"
"Booker?" Noah demanded harshly. "Ross Booker?"
Cam nodded. "The very same. We was both surprised to see each other. I kicked at him... tried to get free... but he walloped me with his fist and then he shoved my face in Gideon's bathwater. He kept pressin' me down and I couldn't get away. I just let go then... pretended I was beaten... and held my breath 'til I thought I would die for sure. Ross, well, he thinks I'm done in and he lets go. That's about all I remember. Things are fuzzy after that."
Jessa pushed away from the wardrobe and managed two shaky steps. Her eyes were anguished, her lips pale. "I'm sorry," she said, gravely polite. Then she fainted.
* * *
When she came around Henry was sitting in the rocker at her bedside. The drapes were drawn and the light from the candles on the mantel glowed orange-yellow on the bald crown of his head. "Henry?"
Henry leaned forward. "Yes'm?"
"Where's Noah?"
"He's gone, Miz Jessa. Gone back to the Porters. He's wantin' to speak to Miz Bowen."
Jessa sat up, refusing the glass of water Henry offered her. "How long ago did he leave?"
"Minutes ago. He put you t'bed and left. Went straight for the stables to get General."
"Then I haven't been out long?"
"No, ma'am. But Mr. Noah says you're to stay right where you are," he added when Jessa put her legs over the side of the bed.
"Where's Cam?"
"He's helpin' Sally to her room."
"Then Noah went alone."
Henry nodded. He chewed the inside of his cheek and forbid himself to mention that Noah had taken the pistol he had kept locked away since the war. "You're not to worry, ma'am. It ain't good for you, not in your delicate condition."
"Not now," she said impatiently, anger just below the surface of her sharp words. She slid off the edge of the bed and stood. "Henry, I want you to saddle Willow for me." Her eyes dropped to his foot and she saw that he was only wearing one shoe. His left ankle was grotesquely swollen. "Never mind. I can see you can't do it." Before Henry could utter a word to the contrary Jessa swept out of the room. She found Cam coming down the stairs from the third floor. He had changed his shirt but his hair was still wet. She blocked his path. "Cam, can you help me? I want to follow Noah. He can't have gone far. Will you go to where the horses are stabled and bring Willow here?"
"I can't do that," Cam said, his eyes wide and earnest. "Mr. Noah would be angry."
"I'll be angry if you don't," she said, glaring at him.
Even when she straightened stiffly to her full height Cam still had a half inch on her. The boy, however, cringed slightly at the implacable expression on her face. "Don't ask me t'do this, ma'am," he begged. "Mr. Noah wouldn't want you to go after him."
"That may very well be true and it makes absolutely no difference to me. If you won't get Willow for me, Cam, I'll go myself."
"You don't even know where Mr. Noah's going," he said, dogging her footsteps as she turned and started down the hallway to the other staircase.
"You're wrong. Henry told me." She stopped. "I don't have time for this now. Will you help me? Yes or no?"
Cam hesitated a fraction too long and he had to grab Jessa's sleeve as she started to go again. "I won't saddle Willow but we can take the carriage. I can drive."
"You can barely see out of your right eye," she said, looking at his puffy lid. Flecks of blood were still on his mouth.
Cam wouldn't let her leave. "I'm going, Miss Jessa," he said forcefully. "Gideon was my responsibility."
Jessa gave him a long look, measuring his determination. "All right," she said finally. "But I'm driving."
Several more valuable minutes were wasted as Jessa overrode Henry's protests when she told him of her decision to go with Cam. The older man offered to join them, but Jessa saw that he was in considerable pain. She propped several pillows under his foot, told him to stay put so he could hear Sally in the event she needed something, and wait for Mrs. Harper's return.
Cam was already on the driver's box when Jessa came out. He handed her the reins without making another protest. A little tension seeped out of him after a few miles as he acknowledged that Jessa was able to handle the carriage and the pair pulling it. He spit on his forefinger and wiped the flecks of blood from his lips. "Why are we following Mr. Noah anyway?" he asked somewhat timidly.
"Beca
use I'm afraid of what he'll do to Hilary when he finds her."
"Henry wasn't supposed to tell you about the pistol," Cam muttered.
The ribbons nearly slipped through Jessa's fingers as she looked sharply at Cam. "The pistol? What are you talking about?"
Realizing too late that he had put his foot in it, Cam told her about the weapon. "What I don't understand is why Mr. Noah was so hell-bent—pardon me, ma'am—so set on goin' after Miss Bowen. I told him Ross Booker has Gideon."
"Yes, but Noah doesn't know where Mr. Booker is and he can find Hilary. She knows something she shouldn't know, Cam. I can't explain it to you now—if ever. You'll have to trust me. Hilary Bowen and Ross Booker are in league. They have to be. Nothing else makes sense."
"Nothin' makes sense," he said glumly. "What's Booker doin' here at all? We sent him back to England."
If only that hadn't happened, Jessa thought. She remembered how relieved she had been at the time. Now she saw that his release in England had brought about Gideon's abduction. Somehow he had learned of the Penberthys' reward and he had responded. He couldn't have been certain she was Jessica Winter when he went to see Edward and Barbara, but it wouldn't have taken them long to assemble the facts. And now Booker was here. He had hurt Sally, who couldn't identify him, and attempted to kill Cam, who could. "He came here to take Gideon from me, Cam. Perhaps to—" She couldn't say the words. She didn't have to. Cam's shudder told her the boy understood. Jessa told herself that she had a thread of hope to hold on to. Gideon had only been abducted, not murdered. Ross Booker could have done that easily if that had been his intent. Yet he hadn't. There had to be a reason. "Did he say anything to you at all? You said he was surprised to see you. How did you know?"
"At first just by the way he looked at me when he got me from under the bed. Then I knew it for certain because he mumbled somethin' about how could he have missed me all these weeks. It made me think that maybe he had been watchin' the house."
"It certainly sounds as if that may be true." That meant that Booker had had ample time to make Hilary's acquaintance, though how that had been accomplished was beyond Jessa's comprehension. She couldn't imagine Hilary deigning to speak to Ross Booker. Yet somehow they had met. There was simply no other way Hilary could have known Gideon's true name. "Did you tell this to Mr. McClellan?"
Cam shook his head. "You fainted and then Mr. Noah was off in a hundred directions at once. He was shoutin' orders and me and Henry did what we were told. I tried to tell him about the other thing I remembered Booker sayin' but he wasn't still long enough to hear me."
"What other thing?" asked Jessa.
"He kept askin' me where the baby was. I didn't understand him then. I still thought he just wanted to steal somethin' from the house. I didn't tell him though. Even when he put my face in the water, I didn't tell him where I hid Gideon."
"I know that, Cam," Jessa said, striving for patience. "But what was it Mr. Booker said?"
"Well, he was talkin' under his breath and I was under water so I'm not sure I heard him right, but I thought he said he'd never make it to Germany in time if he—"
"Germany? That can't be right."
"I know," Cam sighed. "I told you I couldn't hear very well. But what if he's taking a ship somewhere tonight? We're goin' in the wrong way, Miz McClellan. We should be goin' to the docks."
Jessa pulled up the reins and turned to Cam, her eyes as silver bright as the moon overhead. "Could he have said German town?" she asked quickly. "Think Cam. Might he have said Germantown?"
"I suppose," the boy responded, shrugging his shoulders. "That would make sense at least. Don't know why I didn't think of it before except I was all fuzzy-headed."
"It makes complete sense, Cam!" She hugged him and kissed his forehead before she snapped the reins and applied the whip to the horses.
Cam was full of questions as the carriage lurched forward and Jessa urged the team to go faster. He held all of them back, holding onto his seat with a white-knuckled grip until Jessa altered their direction. "Where are we goin'?" he asked anxiously. "This isn't the way to the Porters."
"I know. We're going to Germantown."
"But—"
"Trust me, Cam. I know where Ross Booker's taken Gideon."
* * *
The squeeze of guests at the Porter home was only slightly less than it had been when Noah left the first time. Standing at the edge of the ballroom, Noah searched the room for Hilary. He found Mr. Bowen instead.
"Excuse me," Noah said as he approached the gathering of men which included Charles Bowen. The buzz of conversation stilled momentarily. "I need to speak with you, Charles."
"What?" Charles looked around, flustered, not certain who had spoken. When he saw Noah his eyes widened slightly. "Noah! What are you doing here? I thought you left."
"I need to speak to you, Charles," he repeated. He could feel the press of the pistol against the small of his back. "It's a matter of some urgency."
Charles made his apologies and separated himself from the group. When Noah turned to leave the ballroom he followed. "What is it?" he asked after Noah drew him into Harrison Porter's library. "I confess you don't look well. Not at all."
"Where is Hilary?" Noah asked without preamble. He jammed his hands into his jacket pockets so Charles wouldn't see how badly they were shaking. "I don't see her in the ballroom."
"She's gone home," said Charles, surprised by Noah's curt manners. "Shortly after you left, I think. Why are you looking for her? I, er, thought it was ended between you. You know I can't like the things she's told me, Noah. About you wanting her as your, umm, mistress. I hope that isn't why you've come here. Your wife is—"
"Shut up, Charles," Noah said coldly. "There's no time for your blithering now. I want you to listen to me and I want you to listen carefully. Hilary has involved herself in a matter for which she will pay dearly. Tonight, while I was here, my son was taken from his bedchamber and carried off. Your daughter knows something about Gideon's abduction, Charles, and I will have her confession and my son before the night's over. If you care at all for Hilary's welfare, you'll accompany me to your home and listen to what she has to say. I cannot guarantee her safety if I go alone."
Charles's mouth opened and closed several times before he found his voice. "Now see here," he sputtered, "you forget yourself. Hilary was here tonight. You spoke with her yourself. How could she—"
"I didn't say she took my son. I said she knows something about what happened. You heard what she said to me earlier. Has Hilary ever given you reason to believe she didn't know my son's name?" He saw the flicker of Charles's earlier confusion pass across his face again. "Well, did she?"
"No,er, that is..." His voice died under Noah's hard, probing stare. "No," he said with a certain weariness. "I don't understand why she did that. She doesn't speak of the boy often, but she never was at a loss for his name before."
"I know precisely why she did it," Noah gritted. "She couldn't help herself. Hilary is vengeful and she had to prove her superiority. Her accomplice in this nasty piece of business is not going to thank her for it."
"Her accomplice?"
"Not now, Charles. If you're coming with me I can tell you on the way." Noah didn't give Hilary's father time to weigh his decision. He started to leave immediately after he had spoken.
Charles's short, thick legs pumped furiously to keep up with Noah's long, fluid strides. "I don't have a horse," he told Noah once they were on the front porch. "Hilary took the carriage and I was going to beg a ride from Orrin Barton."
Noah swore softly at the inevitable delay this would cause. "Give me a moment," he said and disappeared back into the house. Minutes later he returned. "I tendered your respects for this evening's pleasantries to our hosts and have Harrison's permission to take a mount from his stable. Come. I fear I've already lingered here too long."
Charles was a man given to consideration. He despised being rushed. Still, because of his great need to be liked, to smo
oth life's rough edges with vapid diplomatic charm, Charles Bowen allowed himself to be hurried to the stable. He accepted the bay gelding Noah brusquely chose for him and didn't speak at all until he and Noah reached the end of the Porter's drive and Noah had turned his mount toward town. Charles pulled up and waited for Noah to realize he wasn't following. "It's likely you're going the wrong way," he said in response to Noah's query. "I don't think Hilary went back to the city this evening."
"But you're not certain?"
Charles shook his head. "No, I'm not. However, we're closer to my father-in-law's home. Remember? I told you she was spending a great deal of time there in preparation of moving permanently. I suggest we go there first."
It was the wiser course and Noah nodded a curt thanks to Charles as he turned General around and gave the horse his head. Charles had no choice but to match Noah's bruising pace.
* * *
"Well," said Cam as Jessa stopped the carriage a hundred yards from the Hearn residence, "I found Miz Bowen's house for you, but what do we do now?" Cam's bright hair fell over his forehead and he pushed it back with the heel of his hand. "If Gideon's in there, how do we get him out?"
Jessa wished she knew. She wished she had brought her pistol. She wished she had known how to load it. She wished... "Do you have any suggestions?" she asked, staring through a break in the silver-white birches that thinly lined the roadside. Only a few rooms in the Hearn home were lit. The gray stone house looked bleak in the pale wash of moonshine. For as long as she watched no one moved in front of the windows.
"I could peek in a few of the rooms," Cam offered a trifle reluctantly. "The ones on the first floor wouldn't be too hard to get to."
"They're too high off the ground. You couldn't see inside even on tiptoe. What if I lifted you?"
Cam snorted. "I'll lift you."
"That's fine."
Too late Cam realized she had tricked him. He had been going to argue that Jessa should stay with the carriage and yet somehow she had managed to make him forget that. He tugged on Jessa's pleated sleeve as she stood to get down from the box. "What if we do see somethin'? We still don't know what to do."
