Chapter 26
The cold bit through James’s coat as Thomas pulled the wagon to a stop in front of the livery, but the chill in his gut had nothing to do with the mountain air.
He’d pushed his brothers hard to get here, the wagon rattling over frozen ruts fast enough to jar his broken leg with every bump. The laudanum had worn off an hour into the journey, leaving nothing but raw pain and sharper fear.
Robert had offered more of the bitter medicine, but James refused. He needed his mind clear, needed to think past the fog that would come with another dose.
Rose was out here somewhere. Alone. In the cold.
And Vincent could be too.
Thomas jumped down from the driver’s seat and moved to help James, but he was already reaching for his walking sticks. The splint caught on the wagon’s edge, sending a bolt of fire through his knee that made his vision gray at the edges. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to stand.
The livery owner stepped out to meet them, wiping his hands on his leather apron. “Evening, gentlemen. What can I do for you?”
James forced his voice to remain steady despite the way his pulse hammered against his throat. “We’re looking for a woman. Red hair, green eyes. Would have come through sometime this afternoon, probably on foot.”
The man’s weathered face creased with thought. “Can’t say I’ve seen anyone matching that description. Been pretty busy today.”
The words twisted in his belly. She hadn’t made it here yet. Either that, or she’d avoided the livery entirely, found some other way out of town. Or—
He couldn’t let himself finish that thought. He couldn’t envision all the possible dangers Rose might have met with.
“You’re certain?” Robert’s voice came from behind him.
“Pretty certain.” The livery owner scratched his jaw. “Though I did step out for a spell earlier. Helped old Henderson fix a wheel on his buggy. Could’ve missed someone then, I suppose.”
James’s grip tightened on his walking sticks until the wood bit into his palms. Every second they stood here talking was another second Rose was in danger.
“We need to search the town.” He turned to Thomas and Robert, ignoring the way the twist sent fresh pain lancing up his leg. “Split up. Check every building.”
“Think it’s better we stay together? Maybe start at Nelson’s?”
James studied Thomas, trying to work through the fog of pain and exhaustion that pressed against his thoughts.
Nelson’s. The saloon would be crowded this time of day—miners and ranch hands coming in from the cold, looking to warm themselves with whiskey and company. If Rose had somehow made it to town already, she wouldn’t have gone there. Too many eyes. Too many questions.
But someone there might have seen her outside.
“All right.” The words scraped past the tightness in his throat. “Nelson’s first, then we work our way down the street.”
Thomas nodded and turned to the livery owner. “Keep the horses in their harness but unhitch them from the wagon and feed them. We might need to leave in a hurry.”
The three of them started toward the saloon, James’s walking sticks biting into the packed, dirty snow with each step. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the fear coiling tighter around his ribs with every breath.
The saloon’s weathered sign creaked above them, and lamplight spilled from the windows onto the snow-dusted boardwalk. Voices and laughter drifted through the door—the familiar sounds of men seeking warmth and company after a long day’s work.
Thomas pushed through the entrance first, with Robert close behind. James followed, the sudden blast of heat and noise hitting him like an unwelcome force after the quiet cold outside.
The room stretched before him, packed with bodies and thick with the smell of whiskey, sweat, and wood smoke. His gaze swept across the crowded space, searching for any flash of auburn hair, any sign that Rose might have sought shelter here despite how unlikely it seemed.
Nothing. Just miners and ranch hands clustered around tables, their voices rising and falling in waves of conversation.
Then a familiar face emerged from the crowd near the bar. Bill Carter, the man who’d helped bring in the last of their hay before the first big snow. His weathered features were flushed with drink, and a wide grin split his face when he spotted them.
“Balfour boys!” Bill’s voice boomed across the room as he worked through the crowd toward them. “Drinks are on me tonight!”
James forced his mouth into something resembling a smile, though every instinct screamed at him to push past Bill and keep searching. “That’s kind of you, Bill, but we’re actually—”
“Nonsense!” Bill clapped a heavy hand on James’s shoulder, nearly knocking him off balance. The walking sticks slipped on the wooden floor, and Robert’s hand shot out to steady him. “You boys worked hard on that hay. Let me show my appreciation.”
The stench of whiskey rolled off Bill, and his eyes held that glassy brightness that came with being several drinks past sober. The smell grew even worse when he leaned in. “‘Sides, got me a windfall today. Biggest payday I’ve seen in years.”
The words slid ice down James’s spine. A windfall. A big payday. Like the fifty-dollar reward Vincent offered for information about Rose?
He tightened his grip on the walking sticks, fighting to keep his expression neutral despite the sick dread pooling in his gut. “That so? What kind of windfall?”
Bill’s eyes went unfocused a moment, then he shook his head with exaggerated care. “Oh, you know. Just some work that paid better than expected.”
“What kind of work?” Robert’s voice came out casual, but James heard the edge beneath it.
“This and that.” Bill waved a wild hand toward the bar, nearly taking out the man passing by behind him. “Come on, let me buy you boys a drink. Nelson’s got some decent whiskey in tonight.”
James tightened his jaw. Every second spent playing games with this drunk ranch hand was another second Rose remained in danger. But pushing too hard might make Bill suspicious, might make him clam up entirely if he did know something.
“Appreciate the offer, Bill.” He shifted his weight on the walking sticks, trying to ease the pressure on his throbbing leg. “But we’re actually looking for someone. A woman with red hair, green eyes. She might have come through town this afternoon.”
Bill’s expression didn’t change, but something flicked in his unfocused gaze—too quick to read, gone so quick, it might not have actually been there.
“Red hair, you say?” Bill scratched his whiskered jaw, swaying a little. “Can’t say I’ve seen anyone like that. Then again, been in here since—” He paused, squinting as though trying to remember. “Since noon, maybe? Time gets away from a man when Nelson’s pouring generous.”
The words should have brought relief. If Bill had been drinking since noon, he couldn’t have been the one to spot Rose and turn her in to Vincent.
But the sick feeling in James’s gut only intensified.
Someone else could have seen her. Could have recognized her from Vincent’s description and collected that reward.
“You know a man named Vincent Dunhill?” Robert’s question cut through the noise of the saloon.
Bill blinked, and his gaze shifted between the three of them. “Who?”
“Dunhill.” Robert moved closer, his voice dropping low enough that the surrounding noise wouldn’t cover their conversation. “City fellow. Maybe asking questions around town.”
Bill’s brow furrowed, his alcohol-fogged mind clearly struggling to process the description. He swayed again, catching himself against a nearby table. “Dunhill? That a first name or last?”
“Last name.” James forced the words past the tightness in his throat. “Vincent Dunhill. Tall fellow, well-dressed. Looks like he’s from back east.”
Recognition didn’t dawn on Bill’s face. The man just shook his head, his movements exaggerated and sloppy. “Nope. Don’t know no Dunhill.”
“He the fellow who looks like he’s from the big city and thinks too highly of himself?” A voice cut through from somewhere behind them.
James turned to the speaker, his leg screaming in protest. A lean man in miner’s clothes sat at a poker table behind them, a half-empty glass in his hand. “I passed him riding out of town an hour ago.”
The words twisted inside him. Vincent had been here. In Walnut Springs. And now he was gone.
With Rose?
The thought sent panic clawing up his throat. “Which direction was he headed?”
“Northwest, I think. Toward that main pass that goes to the Mullan road.” The miner scratched his jaw, his eyes narrowing in thought.
“Did he have anyone with him?” James had to hold himself back from gripping the man’s shirt and hauling the answers out of him. “The man you saw. Was he alone?”
The miner’s brow furrowed. “Looked to be alone, far as I could tell. Though I only saw him for a minute or two when our paths crossed on the trail.”
Alone. Vincent had been alone when he’d left town.
Relief flooded through him. If Vincent had found Rose, he would have her with him. Unless—
Unless Vincent had stashed her somewhere. Left her tied up while he rode ahead to…what? Scout the route? Make arrangements?
James’s pulse hammered as the possibilities splintered through his mind, each one worse than the last.
“Did you notice if he stopped anywhere in town?” Thomas stepped closer to the miner. “Maybe went into any buildings?”
The miner shook his head. “Like I said, I only saw him for a minute on the trail. Didn’t see him in town at all.”
Dead end. The information twisted in James’s gut, useless and frustrating. Vincent had been here, had left, and they still had no idea where Rose was.
“We need to check the buildings.” James turned toward the door, his walking sticks already moving. Every second they wasted standing here was another second Rose could be in danger.
Robert’s hand closed around his arm, stopping him. “James, think this through. If Vincent left an hour ago heading northwest, and Rose hasn’t shown up at the livery…”
The unspoken possibility hung between them. Rose might have never reached town. Maybe she avoided Walnut Springs entirely, taking some other route. Or Vincent might have found her before she ever made it this far.
His chest constricted until breathing felt like dragging air through mud. “We have to go after him. We have to know for sure whether it’s Vincent, and if he has Rose.”
He didn’t waste time with more words, just spun and hobbled through the door to the icy darkness outside.