In Times Gone by

by Tracie Peterson

  If he used their visits to calculate, then he’d been a prisoner for five days. From the stubble of growth on his face, that seemed about right.

  At the sound of a key in the door, Micah straightened where he was sitting on the side of the bed. The door opened with a groan, and the two men appeared. Light filled the room, causing Micah to blink several times as he adjusted to it.

  “Well, it looks like you survived another night,” the man with the tray of food said. He plopped the tray down at the foot of the bed. “Hopefully you won’t be with us much longer.”

  “Why is that?” Micah asked. “Are you going to move me to a hotel?”

  The large man with the gun chuckled. “Yeah, that’s right. Gonna put you up at the finest hotel at the bottom of the bay.”

  Micah shrugged. “It’s got to be better than this place.”

  “I wouldn’t be talkin’ so ungrateful-like if I were you. If we weren’t bein’ paid to bring you food, you’d be mighty hungry.”

  “Speaking of being paid, how about I pay you to let me go?” Micah looked at the big man at the door while his partner retrieved the waste bucket and water pitcher, both of which sat on the floor—one at the end of the bed, the other at the head.

  “We’re being paid well enough,” the man replied. “I don’t have any interest in renegotiatin’.”

  “Well, what if I can top the amount?”

  The man laughed. “Ain’t likely. Now, you behave yourself, and we’ll be back shortly.”

  The duo exited the room and relocked the door. Darkness settled over Micah like a thick fog. He had already looked over the contents of the tray. It never changed all that much. A small loaf of bread, a couple of boiled eggs, and a piece of fruit. Once they’d brought cheese instead of eggs. The fruit varied or was absent altogether. Today they’d brought a rather sorry-looking orange.

  “Well, beggars can’t be choosers.” He felt his way around the tray. He put the orange and one of the boiled eggs under his pillow for later. Next, he tore the loaf of bread in two and began to eat half while saving the other.

  He’d managed to finish off the bread and second egg by the time his jailers returned. This time the smaller man held the gun while the big man came in with the bucket and pitcher. He dropped the bucket on the floor at the foot of the bed, then handed Micah the water.

  Micah’s eyes adjusted faster this time. “I don’t suppose I could have a bath and a razor? Maybe a good bar of soap? A lamp of my own and a book?”

  The big man looked at Micah and rolled his eyes. He didn’t even bother to reply. At the door, he motioned for his partner to move out of the way, then handed him the lantern and pulled the door closed. The sound of the key in the lock sent a wave of melancholy through Micah. Another twenty-four hours before he’d see light again.

  He had no idea where he was or where the men went after seeing him. He figured he was in a cellar or basement somewhere. Occasionally he heard muffled noises, and the few times he had, Micah had called out, but no one ever seemed to hear him.

  Every day after the men left, Micah worked on two projects. One was to free himself from at least one of the shackles, and the other was to try to open the door. He’d tried ramming the door with his body, but it was sturdy and he only wound up with a sore shoulder. He’d felt around the room, trying to find something that would make a decent tool with which he could pull loose the hinges, but there was nothing. The room had been depleted of anything save the bed, bucket, and pitcher.

  The bed was little more than ropes and frame with a thin mattress and pillow. There was a moth-eaten blanket that did little to stave off the damp cold at night, but at least it was something. The waste bucket was wooden with a rope for its handle, and the pitcher was glass. The bigger of the two men had already told Micah that if he broke the pitcher, he’d have no more water, and given that broken glass would do little to aid his escape attempts, Micah wasn’t about to risk his water supply. The fiends hadn’t even left him the comfort of his shoes.

  For a time after the men had gone, Micah sat in the dark and thought about Kenzie and his parents. He knew they’d be worried. They’d know by now that he was missing. The hospital would surely have gotten in touch with his father to find out why he hadn’t reported for work. He hated to think of his mother sobbing at the fear that he might be hurt or dead.

  He knew without a doubt that his situation was Arthur Morgan’s fault. There had never been a sick woman. Morgan must have made arrangements with the clerk to tell him about the medical emergency. There was no other explanation. Morgan had known Micah would never agree to walk away from Kenzie—not even for a hospital of his own.

  Frustration and anger were quickly giving way to discouragement, and Micah knew he couldn’t let that happen. He had to figure out some way to escape. It wouldn’t be easy to attack the duo, especially with chains around his ankles and no weapon. But he needed some sort of plan. He eased back on the bed, careful of the leftover food.

  “Lord, You’ve been my mainstay all these years. I need help now like I’ve never needed it before.”

  Kenzie looked over the short note Arthur had sent only hours earlier. He said he had something imperative to tell her related to Dr. Fisher. She had considered discussing it with the others, but given everyone was setting off to tend to their own business, Kenzie said nothing. Instead, once they were gone, she hailed a boy on the street to run a message to Arthur at his hotel. A quick glance at the clock on the mantel told her that Arthur should be arriving at any time.

  She didn’t like the idea of entertaining him without someone nearby to remind him of the proprieties, but given all of San Francisco was still in some degree of chaos, it didn’t seem quite so important. Besides, she could always imply that the others were upstairs or down in the kitchen. If Arthur thought that someone else was in residence, then he would surely abide by the rules of proper society. At least she hoped he would.

  She knew it wasn’t wise to be alone with him, but if he had the answer to Micah’s disappearance, then she had to at least try to get it. If he tried anything untoward, Caleb still kept his revolver close at hand, and she knew where to find it.

  The knocker sounded, making her jump. Even knowing Arthur would be arriving hadn’t kept her from being nervous about the meeting.

  She opened the door to find her former fiancé on the porch, hat in hand. He gave her his charming smile. “Kenzie, my love. I’m so glad you agreed to see me.”

  She fixed him with a look of annoyance. “I didn’t have much of a choice. You said you had something to tell me about Dr. Fisher.”

  Arthur frowned. “I was hoping you’d want to see me.”

  “Come in.” Kenzie left him at the door and moved into the front sitting room. Her mind raced with thoughts of how to keep the upper hand. She took Caleb’s chair by the fire and sat before Arthur could try to coerce her into joining him on the sofa.

  Arthur stared at her from the doorway. “You are beautiful, you know. I’ve always loved you in green.”

  Kenzie made a mental note never to wear the color again. “Say what you’ve come to say. Where is Micah? Is he all right? Have you hurt him?” She knew Arthur to be capable of stalling for time, but she wasn’t going to tolerate it. “I want answers now.”

  “Very well, you shall have them. Although I had hoped to ease your pain at hearing them.”

  She leaned back in her chair, hoping to look completely unconcerned. “You let me worry about my pain. Where is Micah?”

  “I’m afraid he won’t be coming back. You see . . .” Arthur pulled a ladderback chair to within inches of Kenzie. “I made him a deal.”

  “What kind of deal?” She didn’t believe a word he said, but she was determined to hear him out.

  Arthur sat before continuing. “I told Micah that I’d never stopped loving you and that I knew you loved me as well, but the pain of thinking I’d betrayed you made you afraid of that love and of me.”

  “I’m not a
fraid of you, Arthur.” She could hardly bear to sit next to him and his condescending smile. If it weren’t for the fact that he was the only one who could give her answers about Micah, she would never have let him in the house.

  “I’m glad to hear that. I told him we were meant for each other and that I felt confident that if he would step out of the picture, you would no longer be confused about your feelings for me.”

  “Arthur, I haven’t been confused about my feelings for you in a long while. Now tell me where Micah is.” Her patience was quickly coming to an end.

  He held out his hands, palms up. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. You see, I don’t know. I asked him to go away, and he did.” He let his hands rest on his lap and shrugged.

  “Just like that?” She raised a brow in disbelief. “Do you really think me such a simpleton as to believe that?”

  “Well, there was a bit more to the situation.” He smiled and shrugged. “I know you might think it underhanded.” He paused as if waiting for her to assure him otherwise. When Kenzie said nothing, he continued. “You see, I offered to build him a hospital. His very own—named after him. It would be the best that money could buy, with every piece of equipment possible. You know Dr. Fisher’s devotion to healing.”

  Kenzie frowned. “I do.” She fixed her gaze on the hearth. Micah loved medicine more than life itself.

  “Well, when I told him I would do this for him—free and clear—if he would just walk away—give you up—I suppose it was more than he could resist.” Arthur had the audacity to grin. “Everyone has their price.”

  For a split second, Kenzie thought it might be true. But somewhere deep inside, she could hear Micah’s hopeful voice. “I love you, and you know that you love me.” It cleared away all doubt.

  “And . . . Micah agreed to have you build him a hospital?” Kenzie questioned, stalling for time. It dawned on her that she might get more answers if she pretended she believed him. She sighed and let her shoulders slump. “I suppose you’re right and a hospital was his price. I’m sure it would have been almost impossible to resist such an offer. Micah is completely devoted to medicine.”

  Arthur nodded, doing his best to look penitent. “I know you must think it terribly unfair of me, but I had to do whatever I could. I love you and can’t live without you. I knew his love for you wasn’t as strong as mine. I knew that if I offered the proper enticement, he would give you up and prove me right.” He leaned closer. “I did this for your own good. I knew his love wasn’t true—not like my own. If a man can be bought off, he can’t be truly in love.”

  “No, I don’t suppose so.” Kenzie shook her head. “Still, I never expected you to take such a devious turn.”

  “But, my dear, it wasn’t devious. It was done out of sheer desperation and the love I hold for you. You must see now how ardently I adore you. I want you to be my wife. Please, Kenzie, say you will.”

  “I don’t know.” She touched her hand to her forehead. “I need time to think. This is all so shocking, and I have a terrible headache. I must go lie down.” She got to her feet, and Arthur did likewise.

  He pulled her into his arms before Kenzie could say or do anything. “Kenzie, I love you. Search your heart—you know it’s true. Remember all of our good times—the hope we had for the future. We belong together. I know you love me.”

  She remembered a time when someone had gotten sick at the library while Arthur was there to see her. He hadn’t been able to stomach the scene. She put her hand to her mouth and closed her eyes. “I think I’m going to be ill. The shock—you understand.”

  He abruptly let her go, as she’d hoped. “Yes, of course.” He quickly stepped away and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, holding it to his mouth. “Rest and then come to me or send word. We can leave as early as tonight.”

  She opened her eyes. “If you don’t mind . . . show yourself out. I wouldn’t want you to see me . . . sick.”

  He moved in a hurry toward the hall. “I’m sorry to have distressed you. Please feel better and send word when you’ve, ah, recovered.”

  Kenzie nodded, but held her pose until she heard the front door open and shut. She went to the window and saw Arthur all but running down the front steps. She knew he had Micah under his power. No doubt that meant Micah was imprisoned somewhere. But where?

  “Oh, Micah, I’m so sorry to have put your life in danger.” She turned from the window and shook her head. “But I promise I will find you. I will make this right.”

  CHAPTER

  20

  Hiram Morgan intends to own most everything you see,” Joseph Gifford told Caleb as they walked around town.

  Caleb studied the small community. “Did he explain his plan to the townspeople when he arrived?”

  “Not at first. When he showed up, asking to speak to the mayor and city council, he only talked like he wanted a small section of land along the river. Eventually, that small section expanded to taking over everything.”

  “And how did the people react?”

  Joseph Gifford shrugged. “Most of them didn’t care, as long as there was plenty of money being offered. Some were more concerned about continuing to make a living. Morgan made promises, however. He told them they’d keep their jobs.”

  “Then he means to keep the businesses running?”

  “After a fashion. He only wants certain businesses and plans to bring in others. He promised folks that if their current jobs became obsolete, he’d put them to work elsewhere.”

  “And you are the only holdup in him moving ahead?” Caleb asked.

  The older man nodded. “He thinks it’s purely vindictive.” He grinned and scratched his chin. “I confess there’s a healthy portion of that spirit in me, but it’s not the only reason. My family has lived here since the territory was open to settling. My uncles and father inherited all the land the town is situated on, and then some, when my grandfather died in ’70. Over the years, they’ve sold off pieces. They encouraged the growth of the town—it was always at the heart of what they hoped for.”

  “How long has Hiram Morgan planned to uproot everything?”

  “Nearly two years. He and his son Arthur—the one who wronged Kenzie—showed up here one winter to discuss their desires. We had a big town meeting, and Morgan told the people what he wanted and why. There were those like me who were opposed, but in the end, he offered so much money, they couldn’t refuse. What Morgan didn’t realize was that a good number of properties that my uncle sold include the proviso that first right of purchase comes back to our family. I took advantage of that right and bought up two of the businesses and a half-dozen houses. I also bought back the Emporium I’d sold to one of my cousins. When Morgan learned what I’d done, he was livid.”

  “I knew you owned the house and possibly the Emporium, but had no idea about the other locations.” Caleb frowned. “I’m sure that must be quite a thorn in Morgan’s side.”

  Joseph smirked. “I’m sure it is, and he’ll probably move ahead with legal proceedings to force me to sell. I’ve heard him making noise about it.”

  “I hardly see how he can force you to sell. At least not legally. How did Arthur figure in?”

  Joseph glanced at Caleb. “If you want my honest opinion, I think Hiram saw the potential to have Arthur woo my daughter. I think he figured that if those two got married, I’d feel obliged to give in.”

  It was easy to see that a man with Morgan’s reputation wouldn’t think twice about using whatever means he had at hand. “But if that were the case, why did Arthur change his mind? Or as he told Kenzie—why would his father dupe him into believing she canceled the wedding?”

  They came to a bench near the bandstand, and Joseph motioned to it. “If you don’t mind, I could use a rest.”

  “Of course.” Caleb waited until the older man had taken a seat before joining him on the bench.

  “Morgan made it known that he disapproved of them marrying,” Joseph said. “Whether that was just part of the act
, I couldn’t say. Marrying Kenzie might have all been Arthur’s idea. I have no way of knowing. But about a month before the wedding, Morgan got the notion he would build farther to the east. Everything looked like it would go that way. Folks who’d already sold feared he’d want to back out of their contracts, but he said no, he would honor them. He came across all gracious and generous. He told me that he wanted our families to be at peace for the sake of Arthur and Kenzie.”

  “And he was sincere?” Caleb found it hard to believe.

  Joseph laughed. “I never trusted anything that came out of that man’s mouth. A week later, Morgan was breaking ground to the east, and new rail lines were being surveyed into the area. Then, the day of the wedding, Kenzie got a letter from Arthur, telling her the wedding was off and, well, you pretty much know the rest.”

  “Arthur swears he came to you, begging to see Kenzie.”

  The older man shook his head. “Nothing came except for that letter. Kenzie was heartbroken. A lot later, months afterward, Arthur did come to the house. He apologized for having left Kenzie at the altar and said the circumstances had been beyond his control, and he wanted to speak with her to explain. I told him she wasn’t there, and I wouldn’t tell him where she’d gone. He went away, and I never heard from him again.”

  “So what happened to bring Hiram Morgan back to wanting your land?”

  “I can’t say for certain. I’ve heard gossip that the lay of the land wasn’t suited to his needs—that the ground wasn’t good and fixing it would triple the cost. Who can say? With Hiram Morgan, it could just be that he doesn’t like that I have the upper hand. Could be he stands to make a bigger profit now with the city wanting to incorporate this area. All I know is his lawyer showed up here last March and offered five times as much money for my land as it’s worth. When I told him no, he told me that I’d be sorry—that they’d find a way to best me. That’s the last I heard from any of them.”