Had she left on her own? Or had the man with the violet eyes found her?
Whatever faults her mother might have, Mary didn’t want harm to come to her. Maybe he meant she’d gone to a general store, perhaps to sell goods?
She debated pestering the man again or riding back to town. Her sense of decorum made the decision for her. Sliding the reins over her mare’s neck, she turned the horse back to town.
Once there, she discovered no one knew of her mother’s whereabouts. How strange. She glanced at the general store, where she’d caught up with Miss Alma, who’d reinvited her to the sewing circle. When she asked about her mother, the women in the store shrugged and said she’d been to town early in the morning to sell her baskets. They hadn’t seen her since.
Feeling a heavy sigh forming, Mary led her mare down the road going out of town and in the direction of the ranch. Ahead, a lone horse hitched to a pole stomped his hoof. The mare whickered and edged to the left, bumping Mary.
“Come on, girl.” She soothed her with a pat on the neck as they moved farther left, away from the nervous stallion at the post.
Raised voices ahead slowed Mary’s gait. Male voices, sharp and angry. She remembered that sound altogether too well. Cringing, she hugged closer to the horse, hoping to sneak past. It was her hope the men were too involved to notice her.
Here, at the outskirts of town, there was no telling what riffraff lingered. She wet her lips. She could always jump on the horse and gallop away, but that would certainly draw attention. Drawing a deep breath of horse, dust and sunlight, she trudged forward, wincing when one man’s voice rose particularly loudly.
From beneath lowered lids she scanned the area and saw nothing amiss. Tilting her head, she looked to the left. The space between two buildings resembled an alley. It was dark and deep, the perfect place for an argument. She shuddered and kept going. She’d just passed the opening there when the sound of a grunt followed by a thick thud startled her mare.
The horse jerked and the reins slipped through her hands, burning her palms. With a clatter of hooves and a flurry of dust, the mare left her standing slack-jawed in the road.
Instinctually her arms rounded her rib cage. Miss Alma’s gift bumped against her hip. She hurried to the opposite side of the road, hiding behind a stack of onion barrels. She glared at the speck of her horse on the horizon, no doubt heading home. She must find a new one, and soon, before the mare worried Lou and James needlessly. But who could she ask?
Miss Alma might still be in town. Surely she’d give Mary a ride for part of the way, or possibly send a message to the ranch somehow....
Mind made up, she stepped away from the barrels and promptly stopped. A man appeared at the edge of the alley across the street. He stood tall and narrow, and something about his posture sent a shiver of foreboding through her.
Pivoting, she headed toward town. Footsteps sounded behind her. She picked up her pace, knowing only a few yards farther the streets teemed with shoppers.
The footsteps increased, faster than hers, until she felt a presence beside her and smelled the overpowering odor of cologne. Pulse clanging in her ears, she looked up and met the gaze of the violet-eyed stranger.
Chapter Six
Lou was sitting by the window when he saw a mare race into the yard. The horse pranced nervously near the porch before galloping toward the stables. An empty saddle went with her.
Biting back an oath, he rose from his spot, palming the wall until his vision became normal and the dizziness passed. His legs felt rubbery, but somehow he made it to the post of his bed. James had helped him earlier to the window. Now Lou wished he’d left some crutches in the room. He could barely breathe.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, he shuffled to the opposite bedpost, the one closest to the door. Don’t fail me, he urged his body. Finally, his neck clammy and a sheen of sweat pebbling his forearms, he made it to the door.
“James,” he shouted. His voice sounded like a croak. Scowling, he tried again. The sound of footsteps padded up the stairs. Little feet.
He’d never been so glad to see Josie. He rested his head against the door frame and waited for the girl to appear. Sure enough, she plopped herself right under his gaze, a big smile on her face.
“Hey, Mister Lou. Whatcha want?”
“Get me James,” he said.
“Okeydokey.”
She pattered off, but the image of her guileless face remained, taunting him with memories. Swallowing past his dry throat, he allowed himself to slide to the ground.
In moments, James was clumping up the stairs, his breaths heavy and labored. Lou saw his feet stop at the head of the stairs. “That whippersnapper said you was dying.”
Squinting, Lou looked up at the man who’d been with him for so long, a former doctor whom Mary had taken from a life of homelessness on the streets of Burns and brought to the ranch for healing from too much drink.
He tried to keep his voice steady and careful. “Mary come back yet?”
James heaved, bending at the waist and meeting Lou at eye level. “You sayin’ you sent that stinker runnin’ like a herd of wild mustangs was after her, and you ain’t dying? You jest want Mary?”
“Did she take a horse?” Lou continued calmly, training his gaze on James.
James growled and straightened. “She did.”
“Check the stables, see if her horse returned.”
“Now, how’m I supposed to know which horse she took?”
“Find out.” The snarl took more energy than Lou thought it would.
“What’s going on?”
“Is Miss Mary missing?” A little voice trembled from the stairs, snagging Lou’s attention and putting an ache in the vicinity of his heart. He couldn’t meet her gaze. Something had happened to Mary and he hadn’t been there to protect her.
Just like Sarah.
Sourness coated the roof of his mouth.
“Don’t you worry, Josie. Everything is going to be okay.” He jerked his chin at James. “Pull out my car. We’re going to town.”
For once, the old man didn’t argue about driving a fancy Ford.
Soon, they were on their way to Burns. Lou stared out the window, his whole body aching, his worry amplifying every pain. Getting down the stairs had proved to be a terrible chore, one that had required lots of stops and support. He grimaced at his reflection, knowing he looked haggard and not caring one iota.
His strength might be on the low side, but James said the wound looked to be healing nicely. Only a few more days and he ought to be able to hunt that shooter down, if the bureau or local police hadn’t found him already. He’d check on that in town.
He felt his lips tugging farther downward. Where was Mary? If anything happened to her.... He clenched his legs, letting his fingers dig into his thigh, needing a different kind of pain to take his thoughts from what his life might be like without her in it.
Even though, according to the telegram sitting in his room, in a few months’ time he might never see her again. Guilt joined the worry, creating a ruckus in his head.
“You’re quiet,” James remarked from the driver’s seat.
“Not much to talk on.”
“She’s probably fine. We’ll find her. Give her grief over this whole thing.”
“Watch out the window,” Lou said. “She could be laying somewhere, hurt.”
A rattler could’ve spooked her horse, and though Mary had been riding a long time, she didn’t have a close bond with any