"A woman who marries for love. You married for Betsy, didn't you?" His hand stroked her breast through the nightgown.
She nodded at the truth of that. Everything she had ever done for ten years had been for Betsy. Tears welled in her eyes, but she wouldn't give in to them.
"We'll find her."
He climbed out of bed before she could protest. Janice sat up and stared as Peter reached for his clothes. His clean clothes had been lost with the horse and his saddlebags. He could only put on the ones he'd been wearing for nearly a week. They were stained and crumpled and beyond repair, but he didn't even seem to notice. She could remember a time when he dressed in silk shirts and frock coats. She shook her head. That wasn't the same man.
The man standing there now was unshaven. His unruly dark curls hung around his shirt collar. She could see the dark hairs on his chest above the open top button of his shirt, something she would never have seen back in Ohio. She didn't think the fever had completely left him, but instead of being pale, his face was dark and weathered from overexposure to the sun and wind. This man would never fit in a fancy department store back East.
That's when Janice knew she loved him. Her heart ached as she watched Peter pull on the holster he had been wearing when he fell from the horse. She loved him beyond all sense and reason, and he was going to kill himself looking for her daughter. He did this for her, despite the fact that he couldn't really love her, that she had married him for money, that she had lied to him, that she'd had a child that wasn't his.
She opened her mouth to tell him, but a knock pounded on the door.
"Janice, are you awake? I've brought breakfast."
Evie. Sighing, Janice threw her legs over the side of the bed and reached for her dress. Peter opened the door and gestured for her to come in. Evie eyed him doubtfully, then brushed by to deposit the tray on a table.
"You look like hell, Peter Mulloney. If you're going to take after Daniel and play at being a hero, I'm going to help Janice strap you to the bed."
Peter didn't waste time in answering. He bent over and kissed Janice on the forehead and walked out. She didn't have the strength to throw the pillow after him .
Evie looked at Janice with concern. "Where does he think he's going?"
Janice ran her hand through her hair and found it as tangled as she had feared. "After Betsy," she replied absently. She was too dizzy with new knowledge and lack of sleep to seek any other explanation.
Peter came back within a few hours, half dragging a terrified woman in his wake. Looking almost as haggard as Peter but wearing clean clothes, Tyler was already there to report his latest failure. They all looked up as Peter barged in.
"Show them the sketch," he ordered the trembling woman as he released her.
She looked frantic at the circle of anxious faces, but she pulled a piece of crumpled paper from her pocket. "She gave it to me," she whispered. "I didn't do nothin'."
Janice took the paper with shaking fingers. Carefully she unfolded the creases and smoothed it out on the table. The face on the paper was unmistakable. The signature beneath it was certain proof. She gave a sigh of relief and murmured, "Stephen."
Tyler grabbed the paper, studied it, then passed it to Evie. "That's him, all right. That's the one who came nosing around sometime back." He turned a sharp eye to the waitress. "How long ago did they come through?"
Somewhat reassured now that she was surrounded by seemingly sensible people instead of being mauled by a madman, the woman shrugged. "Came in Friday night, I reckon. She gave me that yesterday mornin'."
Janice looked up at her anxiously. "How did she look? Was she all right? Were they treating her right? Did she say anything at all?"
The woman's face softened. "She your'n? She's a real pretty gal. Kinda quiet. The bastard with her didn't give me no tip, but she gave me the picture. I thought it was right fine work."
Evie caught Janice's hand and hushed her while the men continued the questioning. Other than the fact that Stephen apparently meant to catch the morning train, they couldn't pry anything else of use from her.
Tyler gave the woman some coins and sent her on her way while Peter searched through the stack of papers accumulating on the table. "Where's that train schedule?" he demanded, scattering papers left and right.
Evie pulled it out from the bottom of the stack and handed it to him, then sat down to begin copying Betsy's sketch.
"Saturday morning. That's the El Paso train. Saturday's the only day it comes through twice. Daniel is fifteen hours behind him. There's no train out today." Peter cursed, flung the schedule back to the table, and started for the door.
Tyler grabbed his arm and jerked him up against the wall. "Where the hell do you think you're going?"
"After Betsy." Peter wrenched his arm free, shoved past Tyler, and started out again.
Janice had already placed herself in front of the door. "How will you do that?" she demanded. "You just said there's no train out today."
"I'll buy a damned horse. You don't think I'm sitting here and waiting for the villain to send us love notes, do you?"
"Daniel's right behind him. They have to get off somewhere. He'll wire us when they do." Tyler didn't get between husband and wife but stood behind Peter, waiting to grab him if he made another move toward the door.
"He could miss them. He could get off at the wrong stop and have to wait who knows how long for the next train. Anything could happen. I've got to do it myself."
Janice sighed and crossed her arms across her chest. "That's what we've been doing all our lives, Peter. We've been doing everything ourselves. It's hard. Can't we ask for a little help just this once?" She wanted to touch his cheek, feel his forehead, but she didn't dare call attention to his weakness in front of their friends. "Please?" was all she dared say. The thought of losing Peter terrified her as much as the thought of losing Betsy.
He shook his head in doubt. "I can't sit here, Janice. I have to go after her."
From behind him, Tyler replied, "I'll go, but somebody has to stay here and look after Evie. She's likely to decide to take a helium balloon or some other nonsense otherwise. And someone's got to take the wires. The telegraph operator means to intercept any going to Butte as well as those from Daniel and Townsend. Somebody has to be here to read them. Daniel should be checking in before long."
Peter hesitated, and Janice held out a hand to him. "Please, Peter. You have to get your strength back. Let Tyler and Daniel do the running around. You can keep them moving in the right direction. I'll need you with me when they find her. We can go together."
Another knock pounded at the door. Before Janice could answer, Manuel shoved it open. Excitement danced on his face as he saw everyone was present.
"She took the El Paso train yesterday morning!" He waved another copy of the train schedule. "She drew a picture of Fairweather on the schedule board and circled the time. I've ordered my horse brought around."
Young and brimming with energy, he filled the room with his eagerness and impatience. Peter gave Janice a wry look.
"There isn't much point in all of us going, is there?" he admitted.
Janice caught his arm in relief. "Not yet. Not until we know where they are. Then we can go get them. I need you here, Peter. What would I do if Daniel wires he's lost them?"
Peter studied her with wonder. No one had ever needed him before, but he could see the very real need in her eyes right now. Her fingers clung to his arm, afraid to let him go. His courageous schoolmarm was terrified and doing her best not to show it. Only he could guess how close she was to hysteria. It was there behind her eyes, the empty terror she must have suffered through a thousand nights. She needed him to help her through these next few days.
Peter turned and gave Tyler a curt nod, sending the older man to follow Manuel. Men like Tyler were meant to act without thinking. Brought up in the civilized East, Peter had learned to think first, act later. It was time for him to do what he did best.
&nb
sp; By the time Tyler and Manuel were prepared for their journey, Peter had Evie's copy of Betsy's sketch, a train schedule, and a list of checkpoints and check-in times ready. If they missed any one of the times, he would be on the next train out. And if they didn't find word waiting for them when they arrived, they could assume he'd heard From Stephen and was on his way.
It was a crude plan, but it would have to work. Once Stephen reached El Paso, he could take either of two trains, and their work would double. Time was already against them.
Chapter 37
Peter entered carrying the third telegram of the morning. He handed it wearily to the women waiting for him. "It's from Daniel. There's a conductor who remembers seeing them get off at El Paso. Nobody remembers seeing them after that."
"Shouldn't we be hearing from the kidnapper by now? Shouldn't he be asking for ransom?" Evie set aside her constant sketching to ask what Janice was too worried to think of.
"He'll want to hole up somewhere where he figures we won't be able to find him first." Peter stared glumly out the hotel window. "It would be stupid of him to choose El Paso. He's better off taking one of the lines out of there and losing himself somewhere in Texas. It will take us days to figure out which train he took as it is. By the time we know if he headed for San Antonio or Fort Worth, he could have hidden himself anywhere."
Evie began gathering up her sketches. "Well, Tyler and Manuel are there now to help Daniel, and Townsend says he's coming in on the evening train. I say we leave him here to forward messages. You're going to need as many hands as you can get in El Paso."
Janice was off the bed and reaching for her bags before the final words left Evie's mouth. Peter turned and watched, but made no attempt to halt her. He had every intention of going to El Paso himself. It probably wasn't wise to leave the women behind.
They met Townsend at the station, informed him of his new position as message coordinator, and took the same train heading east.
They showed Evie's sketches of Betsy and the two kidnappers to everyone they met. A salesman remembered seeing them somewhere but couldn't remember where. One of the boys selling newspapers remembered Betsy distinctly, but the "uncle" traveling with her hadn't let her talk to him. A conductor frowned and thought he'd seen one of the men take the Fort Worth train, but he didn't remember a little girl.
By the time they reached El Paso, they were exhausted and still didn't have any reliable information on which to proceed. A telegram waited for them from Townsend informing them that Daniel had taken the Fort Worth train on the basis of a sighting of Fairweather. They already knew Tyler and Manuel had arrived and had rooms at the hotel. Peter hired a porter to help with their baggage and they set out to join the others at the hotel.
By the time Evie had gone off to join Tyler, and Peter had found them a room, Janice was too depressed to do more than remove her mantle and lie down on the bed. The ceiling above her was cracked and chips of paint or plaster threatened to crumble onto the mattress. The roof probably leaked when it rained.
Peter dropped their bags and sat down on the bed beside her. He stroked her brow and brushed away straying strands of fine hair. "We'll find her, Jenny, I promise. He just doesn't know yet that he doesn't have a chance."
There was such reassurance in his voice that Janice closed her eyes and let it seep down inside her. She wanted to believe. She needed to believe. Surely Stephen didn't mean to keep Betsy. He couldn't. She just had to be patient and place her confidence in Peter and his family.
She opened her eyes to gaze upon her husband. Lines of exhaustion creased Peter's brow and made dents beside his mouth. He hadn't been given a chance to regain any of the weight he'd lost in the mountains. She feared fever still lingered in the glitter of his eyes, but determination flared there too. Despite his illness, he was a strong man. She could see it in the set of his shoulders and the jut of his jaw. He wasn't bent with defeat. He grew stronger to meet the challenge.
She smiled and stroked his jaw. "I know you'll find her, Peter. It's just so hard to worry every minute."
He bent and kissed her lightly. "I know I can't keep you from worrying, but let me share the burden. The load is lighter if we share."
She held out her arms to him, and he lay down beside her. The chemistry between them was muted, buried beneath exhaustion and worry. What they had to offer each other now was different—the comfort of understanding and sharing and a common goal. They fell asleep that way, fully clothed and in each other's arms.
When they woke with the first light of dawn, Peter crushed a kiss across Janice's cheek and swung out of bed as if he'd never slept. "I'm going to scour the train station. Betsy's been pretty good about leaving clues, there has to be something the others have overlooked."
"I don't want to stay behind doing nothing. What can I do?" Janice climbed from the bed and opened her bag to find the brush Peter had bought for her in Gage.
"Talk to the women who work around the station. There's a Harvey's restaurant and hotel. I don't think Stephen would have taken her there, but they might have seen her coming or going. Tyler and Manuel need to take posters over to some of the cheaper hotels. I'll check to see where they've already looked."
Peter had purchased a clean set of clothes for himself in Gage, but he'd been wearing them for days. The blue denims were holding up fairly well, but his black cotton shirt was wrinkled and covered with lint from the bed. He didn't even seem to notice. He was making lists and organizing actions and setting priorities. Janice could practically see the wheels turning in his head. This was the man who had managed one of the largest enterprises in Ohio. She had known it intellectually; she could see it for herself now.
"I'll be ready in a minute. Come back and get me after you've talked to Tyler."
Peter nodded and walked out without a kiss or a word of comfort. Janice didn't mind in the least. She knew where his mind was, and she had no objection to taking second place to the search for Betsy. He would probably always have his mind elsewhere, except when they were in bed. She would reap the benefits from all that concentration then.
She was coming to know Peter much better than she had ever expected, and she liked what she was discovering. She couldn't remember ever truly liking a man before. She'd had a passion for Stephen, but she'd never known him enough to like him. She'd worked with Jason, had even understood him and considered marrying him, but she couldn't say she particularly liked a man's man who had paid her little heed. Peter was different.
It was good to know that she could like the man she loved. Love was an unreasonable emotion that she was having difficulty dealing with. She'd struggled with her love for Betsy for years until she had finally come to accept it as the gift it was. She couldn't be so certain that loving an ambitious man like Peter would be a gift. For the moment, it kept her in constant turmoil.
But she understood action and took orders well. Under Peter's direction, they fanned out to cover different territories. He had calculated the most likely time of Betsy's arrival here in El Paso and the next trains leaving. They concentrated on finding people who had worked around the train station during those hours and at the hotels between those hours. El Paso wasn't so large that they couldn't find all of them sooner or later.
Peter was the first to recognize the significance of the sketch of a little boy tacked to a dark corner inside the ticket office. Since Daniel and Tyler had already thoroughly questioned the ticket clerk, he was growing a little testy. Peter had to approach him from a new angle, and the piece of paper blowing in the draft was just what he needed.
He pointed at the partially concealed drawing. "Is that artwork?"
The clerk looked baffled and followed his finger. He shrugged and pulled the paper off the wall, handing it to Peter. "Kid stuff, looks to me. Other fella who works here must of stuck it up. Mean something to you?"
Peter smoothed the paper flat and gave a prayer of thanks. Betsy's big angelic eyes smiled back at him from beneath the disreputable brim of an ov
erlarge felt hat. The girl had talent. He'd see that she had the best art teachers money could buy. He practically kissed the paper, but the clerk was already looking at him oddly.
"Tell me how to find the other man who works here," he demanded, passing a folded bill to the suspicious clerk.
"He's off visiting in Las Cruces. He'll be back in tomorrow." The clerk slipped the money into his pocket and returned to work.
Peter clenched his teeth in frustration and stalked down the street to the restaurant where he'd left Janice. The other ticket clerk had to have seen Betsy. He'd know what train they took. It would take as much time to reach Las Cruces as it would to wait for him to return to El Paso. They were losing too much time.
At Harvey's, Janice was engaged in conversation with an attractive waitress, but she looked up the moment Peter approached. She had the sketches of Betsy and her kidnappers spread out on the table, but the waitress was shaking her head. Peter threw down the new sketch.
Janice studied it and shook her head. "Poor Betsy. She was just growing her curls back. He must have cut them all off again. Did he really think he could disguise her as a boy?"
The waitress picked the sketch up and studied it. 'She's pretty even under that awful hat." She frowned at her own words and called over her shoulder, "Leilah! Come here and look at this. Didn't you tell me you'd seen the prettiest little boy in here the other day?"
A second waitress sauntered up, giving Peter an experienced look before turning her attention to the sketch. She raked her fingers through her long red hair and nodded. "Cute kid. He drew me a cartoon while they were eating." She glanced speculatively up at Peter. "He yours?"
"She's ours." Peter placed a calming hand on Janice's shoulder and reached for the other sketches. "Were these the men with her?"
The redhead shrugged. "The one could be. There was just the two of them. He wasn't bad-looking, but he had a surly temper."
Janice wrapped her fingers around Peter's. "The cartoon? Do you still have it?"
Texas Moon TH4 Page 31
