by Joni Keever
Chapter Nine
Carly swallowed back a knot of uncertainty and swung her leg off the roof. The trellis creaked and groaned as she lowered herself inch by inch. About halfway down, she began to relax. Just then, the thin, brittle trellis gave way beneath her foot. It cracked loudly in the still night, and Carly scrambled for a secure hold. The dry dead vine she clung to snapped in her hand. She landed with a thud on the hard-packed earth below.
Breath whooshed from her lungs. Little dirt clouds swirled up around her. She sat there for a moment, determining if she was injured or if anyone had heard her. Several windows ran the length of the hotel. Lights flickered inside a few, but Carly felt confident. She crawled to the edge of the porch and scanned the quiet street. A man walked nonchalantly across the road at one end. She rose and headed in the other direction.
Staying in the shadows, she made her way past several buildings. Though the moon wasn’t quite full, it sat high in the cloudless sky and bathed Destiny in silvery light.
Carly didn’t have much of a plan. But she did know that if she wanted out, she’d have to ride a horse. The man had said the stage wasn’t due back for a week, and she couldn’t count on the kindness of strangers for help. One thing she’d learned since leaving Virginia: kindness was not a word to be associated with strangers. Perhaps she could find a fort or a column of soldiers on the road.
According to Kade, the area was thick with them. Not only had Senator Doolittle himself come to investigate the hostilities on the Great Plains; he’d dispatched two other congressional groups to do the same, all with military escorts. Though they sided with the red savages, surely they were bound by duty to help a lady such as herself.
General Pope’s bloodthirsty band roamed the Kansas plains as well, determined to rid the land of all savages. Rumor had it most tribes had fled north to safer territory. That being the case, Carly felt certain there wasn’t an Indian within fifty miles of her.
She reached the end of the main thoroughfare and searched the shadows for a horse or buggy. Papa had let her sit in his lap when she was a child and help drive their carriage. Perhaps that would be easier to handle than just a stubborn animal.
Across the street, she noticed a big building with the word livery in faded white paint above large doors. A lone horse stood quietly within a fenced area next to the stable.
She checked the dusty road, then ran across and crouched by a tree. The animal swished his long tail. A moment later, Carly ducked inside the murky shelter. She let her eyes adjust to the dimmer light. It was a larger version of Papa’s barn. And there were several horses in the stalls, including Kade’s stallion.
Straw crunched beneath her feet as she wandered down the aisle. She wrinkled her nose at the odor emanating from the stalls. As she neared the black, he nickered softly.
“Oh no!” whispered Carly. The horse’s saddle had been removed, and she knew she’d never keep her seat without the leather contraption’s aid. She should’ve thought of that. Didn’t Kade always take the stallion’s saddle off each night?
For the briefest moment, Carly entertained the idea of trying to saddle the horse herself. With a heavy sigh, she slumped back against the wooden railing, knowing full well she couldn’t even lift the thing.
A wagon, of sorts, sat at the other end of the livery. She went to investigate. It was like the wagon they had traveled west in, yet this one didn’t have a cloth cover, just the plank bottom and raised seat. Carly circled it, wondering if she could perhaps tie it to a horse. When she reached the opposite corner, she noticed the buckboard was propped up, one wheel missing.
She tugged her hat from her head. “I guess it’s just as well. I have no business trying to saddle a horse, let alone drive a buggy.” She looked around the musty old barn, hoping some other avenue of escape would present itself. All of a sudden she heard deep voices and laughter. They drew nearer, and Carly knew instinctively that the men weren’t there to offer help.
A ladder stretched upward into a murky abyss. She ran to it and climbed. A flurry of wings startled her, and she almost fell as she had from the trellis. Her heart beat furiously against her chest as she reached the top rung and stepped off to a loft piled high with fresh hay.
Moonlight shone through holes in the roof. A pair of doves settled on a higher rafter and cooed softly, undaunted by Carly’s interruption. She crept to a dark corner and hid behind the straw.
The large door creaked as it opened wider. Bawdy laughter filled the stable. A horse whinnied nervously. Carly first heard the match being struck, then smelled it. Glass and metal chinked repeatedly until a golden glow emanated from a lantern below.
She listened to the masculine voices, trying to determine how many men there were. Their speech was slurred and hard to interpret. Again a burst of laughter, and Carly thought she recognized the sound of one man slapping another on the back.
Temptation to sneak out for a peek made her take two steps toward the ladder. But she retraced her path quickly as the men started climbing. She cowered behind the pile of hay, praying they’d pass her by. After a fair amount of scuffling, cussing, and chortling, the men landed heavily on the loft. The boards quivered beneath her feet, and she held her breath.
They swaggered past. Carly pinched her nose to ward off a blast of day-old sweat, cheap tobacco, and bad booze. Both men were large and drunk. An image of Tiny sprang to her mind. She swallowed hard, willing herself not to bolt and run.
One fellow kicked the loft door open with a bang. The doves took flight, scolding the rude intruders. Moonlight flooded the upper level, though it didn’t quite reach her shadowed corner. Both men fell, more than sat, on their backsides, dangling their legs from the opening. The soft light silhouetted them, and Carly could see they shared a bottle. Undoubtedly, not their first of the evening.
“Can ya see anythin’?”
The other man leaned forward, tottered, and Carly thought for a moment he’d fall.
“Nah. They musta blowed out the lamp.”
“Buck, is it my turn or yours?”
“I don’t rightly ’member. Won’t matter none if’n that good fer nuthin’ Watson stays in there all night. Tess won’t have neither one of us.”
Carly stood slowly. She could see beyond the men to the opposite side of the street. Several buildings were visible, including the hotel. She didn’t understand what they were trying to see.
“Shoot, Nate Watson ain’t good fer all night. He’ll be leavin’ any minute now. And I think it’s my turn. My britches is gettin’ tight just thinkin’ ’bout it.”
The man chuckled and squirmed on his perch. His companion tipped their decanter skyward and took a healthy pull. Carly watched the liquid bubble inside the bottle. Something moved to her right, drawing her attention away from the men.
She peered into the darkness, wringing her hat in her hands and holding her breath. Nothing. No movement, no sound. She exhaled carefully, and there it was again. Something rustled in the straw near the ladder. Carly strained to hear or see. Just as she was about to convince herself that her fear was taking over, the hay moved not four feet away.
Carly pressed her back to the rough wooden wall and stared at the spot illuminated by a shaft of moonlight. For a moment, nothing happened. But then the straw parted, and a wiggly black nose emerged. Quivering whiskers were followed by dark, beady eyes and pale little ears. The creature had a sleek black coat and a long, naked tail. It rose to its back legs and stared at her.
She clamped a hand tightly over her mouth and fought for air through her nose. They sat there, motionless, soundless, inspecting each other, until . . . the rat dropped to all fours and scurried toward her.
Carly could not have swallowed the scream had she been hiding from an army of Tinys. It rose from her gut, like a volcanic eruption. Without taking her sight off the stunned rodent, she clambered at the wall to her back, pinning herself in place with terror.
Her pint-size persecutor stopped. With a flip of his ta
il, he turned and fled across a rafter to safety.
The scream subsided, and Carly sucked in great gulps of air. She stared after the rodent with relief, grateful her reaction had frightened it away.
And then she remembered.
#
Kade tried to focus his gaze on his surroundings. His eyelids drooped. His vision blurred. Slowly, deliberately, he grasped the whiskey bottle by the neck and tipped it toward his glass. The trickle that ran from the spout soon turned to droplets. Kade blinked heavily. He turned the bottle toward him and peered inside. Empty. Damn.
“We’re closin’, sugar. Time for you to go upstairs.”
Allowing his head to roll back, he looked up at the smeared image of Ruby. She stared down at him, then motioned around the room. He couldn’t say for sure, but they seemed to be all alone. No more bad piano music, no more Tiny twins, no more Tess and what’s-her-name.
He rose to his feet on wobbly legs. His chair toppled behind him, and Ruby took one arm as he regained his balance. She talked amiably as she led him to the parlor doors, though Kade found it hard to concentrate on her words.
“You can make it from here, sugar. Night-night.”
Her deep chuckle rumbled as she turned and left him. His vision seemed clearer now. He started across the foyer toward the stairs.
“Well, sir, turnin’ in for the evening?”
He followed the sound of the voice to the registration desk. Clive stood smiling at him. A recent memory tugged at the corner of Kade’s mind. Carl. He’d sent a bath and meal up to her; the eastern lady with the aversion to dirt, the boy who wasn’t, the very reason for Kade’s current state of drunkenness.
“Did everything go well earlier, with the bath?”
“Oh, yes, sir. Well, indeed. Your little friend seemed pleased with the hot bath and his new attire. Ate every bite of that dinner, too. Thoughtful uncle you are.”
Ignoring the probing tone in the man’s voice, Kade grasped the banister and placed one heavy boot on the bottom step.
“Funny thing, though,” Clive continued from behind the counter. “When I went up to fetch the tub, he was gone. Never saw him come down the stairs. Reckon I could’ve missed him, but—”
“Gone? What do you mean gone?” Kade still gripped the wooden railing, but he turned to face the smaller man.
“Just that. Gone. Not in neither room. Weren’t in the parlor with you. Nowhere else to go in town at night.” Clive shrugged and placed the registration book and brass bell under the counter.
Kade climbed the stairs, mulling over the stranger’s statement. He checked his room first because that door was nearer to him. The interior was quiet, untouched. Passing through the adjoining door, he found a much different setting.
A hurricane lamp burned brightly on the bedside table. The covers had not been disturbed. Carl’s old clothes lay across a chair. Kade crossed to them, picking up long strips of what used to be a shirt. Water puddled about the wooden floor. A few iridescent soap bubbles shimmered and swayed.
This didn’t make sense. Where would she go this time of night? Didn’t he suggest she stay in the room? Didn’t he make arrangements so she could do just that?
Tattered white curtains blew in the breeze. They seemed to beckon him. Slowly Kade moved toward them, trying to wade through the mud in his mind and grasp a persistent thought that eluded him. He stood at the window, grateful for the cool, fresh air.
The street below appeared deserted. He had no idea how late the hour, but he felt sure most of Destiny’s inhabitants had found their way to a bed. Bending over the sill, Kade let his gaze travel the length of the thoroughfare. With a deep breath, he straightened.
Something caught his attention. Leaning back outside, he noticed the trellis.
His thoughts rode the fresh night air like feathers in the wind. Carl, gone. So were her new clothes. If Clive hadn’t seen her, she didn’t use the stairs. And if she didn’t use the stairs . . . that meant she was sneaking out, so Kade wouldn’t know.
“Why you little, ungrateful . . .” He swiveled and kicked a nearby chair, sending it crashing to the floor. “After all the trouble you’ve been! I risk my neck to save your life, delay my travels so I can help you, spend my money on—”
A sudden realization halted Kade in mid-tirade. Wait a minute. What am I so upset about? This is what I wanted. To be rid of Carl, or whoever she is. Now I can get on to Texas and . . . .
He stopped and rubbed his temples. The effects of the whiskey were clearing quickly, but he still had trouble holding on to distant thoughts.
What would she do? She had no money, no sense, no one to help her. There was no way out of Destiny, and Destiny was in no way a place for a girl like Carl.
Pacing the small room, Kade reasoned with himself. What do I care? She’s not my responsibility. She’s most likely a full-grown woman who can look out for herself. Besides, if she’s fool enough to run off in the middle of the night, she deserves what she gets.
He stopped his pacing and stared at the undershirt he’d given her. “Damn! Damn that woman’s tender white hide.”
Kade stormed down the stairs and surprised Ruby as she pulled the parlor doors shut. “Did you see the wo—, uh, boy I rode in with? He’s not in his room. It’s a bit late for him to be roamin’ the streets, and—”
Ruby placed a hand on his forearm. “You’re right to worry. Destiny’s dark streets are no place for an unprotected young lady.”
Studying her expression, Kade realized she wasn’t just guessing as Clive had tried to do. She knew. Ruby knew Carl was a woman. Damn! How come everybody knew but him?
“It’ll be our little secret, sugar. And, no, I don’t know where she is. Let me check with the girls, see if they heard or saw anything.”
With a rustle of petticoats, she turned and left. Kade strode to the hotel doors and peered out. All was quiet. Not even a cat on the prowl roamed the dusty roadway.
Ruby joined him on the plank walk. “Mae saw her shinny down the trellis about an hour ago. Didn’t pay her much mind, though, being busy with a customer and all. Thought she headed toward the livery.”
Placing her fists on her rounded hips, she continued. “If that’s the case, you’d best be trackin’ her. Fletcher and ol’ Buck sometimes take a bottle to the loft, when they don’t get a turn with the girls. And they’re a mean pair, they are. If they were to find out her secret—”
Her last words died on the breeze. Kade’s long legs had carried him halfway up the street in the direction Ruby indicated. He told himself to turn around, that he didn’t care what happened to Carl. But some part of him wouldn’t let himself do that, and that part propelled him forward faster. Deep within, he knew that the mysterious little Carl had entangled herself in his life, and he’d never forgive himself if anything happened to her.
Chapter Ten
Carly turned toward the loft door slowly. Two barrel-chested men stood framed in the silvery light. One of them chuckled. The other threw an empty bottle to the floor. Simultaneously they started toward her.
Panic seized her. She couldn’t move, couldn’t scream, couldn’t believe she’d been so very close to freedom—and now this.
“Well, Fletcher, did you make a wish on a fallin’ star, or am I seein’ things?”
The pair lumbered closer. Their heavy steps shook the boards below Carly’s feet—or was she the one shaking? She willed her legs to move. Her throat seemed to close, depriving her of fresh air.
“Maybe we’re both seein’ things, Buck. Maybe she is a vision. Maybe she ain’t. I do aim to find out.”
His fat lips spread to a toothless grin. He chuckled. The sound echoed from the rafters and rolled through Carly’s stomach. Revulsion motivated her to flee. Her gaze darted from the men to the ladder; then she bolted.
But they were too close. One dived at her with an animal-like growl. His beefy hand closed around her ankle as he landed with a thud on the loft floor. Falling, she reached for the top of the lad
der. Air whooshed from her lungs. Her chin struck hard wood. Light exploded behind her eyelids.
A heavy cloud enveloped Carly’s head. Lightning bolts shot from her jaw to her temples. Someone pulled at her leg, and her hand raked free from the splintered railing. Like a rag doll, she was flopped over onto her back. The action started a new wave of pain and nausea.
“Bring her to the light, Buck. Let’s have us a good look.”
Carly tried to raise her head off the uneven planks as they dragged her closer to the loft door. She fought the dark ring threatening to choke out consciousness. The men squatted down beside her, each firmly holding an ankle.
“Oooh-weee! Will you take a gander at her?”
“Where’d she come from, Fletcher?”
“Maybe she’s with that stranger.”
“Then what’s she doin’ in the loft, all alone?”
“Don’t know. Don’t care. Don’t really matter. She’s young and purty. And here.”
The man reached for Carly. She swung at him with a balled fist. During his moment of surprise, she twisted and turned, breaking free of their hold. Scrambling to her hands and knees, she crawled toward the ladder. She reached for the top rung, only to grasp a handful of hay as she was pulled backward once more.
“She’s a feisty one, Buck. Yer gonna hafta hold her.”
Rough hands rolled Carly to her back again. She summoned every ounce of remaining strength. Ignoring the painful throb in her head, she lashed out with arms and legs. Her fists and feet connected time and again, but the men were so much stronger. In less than a minute, they had her ankles pinned to the floor and her wrists clasped above her head.
The one called Fletcher drooled over her. Buck grinned stupidly from her feet. She drew in short, ragged breaths, mentally groping for a feasible plan of escape.
