Stavewood (Stavewood Saga Book 1) (21 page)

      Sheriff Carson and two deputies arrived to witness Timothy Elgerson observing the girl cross the lawn and dismounted from their horses. The entire county was buzzing with gossip about the handsome Timothy Elgerson and his beautiful visitor, the lawmen’s wives included. They waited for the man to notice them and he turned and strode towards them with obvious concern on his face.

      “Your men told us about the horse. What the hell is happening here, Tim?” the sheriff asked.

      “Someone got to them during the night I suspect. The Arabian is missing and they cut the chestnut’s throat.” Elgerson’s voice cracked. It was widely known what the horse had meant to him.

      “I’m sorry, Tim. It was a fine and beautiful animal.” Carson struggled for the right words.

      “What happened at Weintraub’s?” Timothy could not think of the chestnut right now.

      “Let’s take a look at that horse first.” Ben Carson was still going over Octavia’s possible involvement in his mind. He just didn’t think the woman had anything directly to do with Rebecca’s kidnapping, but he felt that she knew more than she had let on.

      The two men walked back out into the yard and Carson related his conversation with Octavia to the big man.

      “I just don’t think she had any idea what I was talking about until I mentioned the station at Hawk Bend, and then I knew something was not right, Tim. I have to figure she knew somehow that the girl was out there. Maybe someone mentioned seeing Rebecca out there. I’m just not sure. It was plain to me that if she had any information she didn’t know it involved Rebecca until I talked to her.”

      “So you are thinking that Dianna and Finn were involved?” Elgerson wasn’t sure he was comfortable with the fact that Ben had possibly given information to Octavia. He liked and admired the sheriff immensely, but didn’t always agree with his methods.

      “Hardly seems possible. But I have to say I’m leaning more that way all the time. It looks as if Dianna was around last night and had Finn with her, although Octavia never actually saw him. She told her they were riding out to take a look at some horses.”

      Timothy looked hard at the sheriff, uncomfortable with the implication of the remark.

      “I had the same thought, Tim,” Carson replied, as if reading Elgerson’s mind.

      “I’m taking a ride back over that way now to see if any of the neighbors saw Dianna and Finn. I’ll let you know what I turn up.”

      Ben Carson rode away from Stavewood at a quick gallop and Elgerson stood watching the man in exhaustion, and then went into the stable to dispose of the horse.

Chapter Thirty-Three

    
 
R
ebecca
sat in her room staring at the letter to Emmy, struggling in indecision. If she stayed at Stavewood until the mystery of her kidnapping was solved, as Timothy requested, she would then be here when they discovered the truth about her. Although her frustration with the man had not been resolved, she tried to put it aside and look at the situation clearly.

      If she left Stavewood now, as quickly as possible, perhaps the threat they all faced would simply go away. She decided not to post the letter, and write another. In the evening she would approach Timothy and ask to borrow passage from him. She would ask only what she required to make the trip. She reasoned with herself that she had survived the trip from England with little more than the cost of the tickets, and therefore could return in a similar fashion. She would ask for as little as possible. If she could make him understand that her remaining at Stavewood was a threat, he might agree and she would travel back to England.

      Rebecca was overcome with a hollow feeling at the thought of leaving the beautiful home she had grown to love. She decided to check on Mark and perhaps try to make him understand before she approached Timothy.

      She gathered up her feelings of hopelessness and walked along the hall, listening to the disconsolate sound of her own footsteps and entered the boy’s room.

      Mark was no longer sleeping on the bed and, thinking he might have gotten hungry, Rebecca went down to the kitchen to find him, checking Timothy’s room and the study on the way. Unable to locate the boy, she looked out into the yard and then returned to the upper floor by the back stairs and called to him. She did not receive an answer so she called throughout the main floor. When he did not reply she became concerned that he may have gone out to the stables in search of his father, but as she crossed the yard she was overcome with a feeling of dread and quickened her pace.

     Reaching the barn, breathing rapidly, she found Timothy tying a tarp over the chestnut on the wagon and tried to calm herself, not wanting to sound panicked.

      He looked up and could see her concern.

      “What’s wrong?” He stood up and studied her face.

      “I took Mark inside after he was so upset and waited until he had fallen asleep. I went to check on him but I can’t find him anywhere.”

      As Timothy raced across the yard to the house, Rebecca struggled to follow him, explaining that she had called throughout the house and he hadn’t replied.

      Elgerson bellowed for the boy, stopping the cook in the kitchen and questioning the maids he found dusting the upstairs rooms. When Mark did not answer he ran out of the front door and began to call the boy’s name loudly from every direction surrounding the house. Rebecca checked every closet and hiding place in the main areas of the home that she thought he might have hidden away in, while listening to Timothy’s unanswered calls. She tried to put away the vision of the slain chestnut and fear gripped her tightly.

      Timothy ran back into the house, checking with her before sprinting out into the barn. With the stallion missing and the mare dead, he yelled back to Rebecca that he was going out to the stables to look for the boy there and would return with horses.

      Rebecca stood in the yard and tried to imagine where Mark might have gotten to, preferring to think that he  had simply gone off somewhere to hide, disappointed with her talk about leaving.

      She dashed back into the house and instructed the staff to continue to search anywhere the boy might have hidden himself again and hurried to the creek where she had gone when she wanted to think.

      As she searched the banks and frantically called him she began to blame herself for his disappearance. Whether he was hiding or had run away, or the terrifying possibility that someone had taken him, it all came back to her. Whoever might be after her may have taken the boy. Her thoughts were overwhelming.

      When she heard horses in the direction of the house she ran through the brush towards the house where Timothy had returned with Ben Carson and his men, but not Mark.

      Elgerson wondered if the boy may have headed for the cabin and the sheriff and deputies decided to scout the woods since it was likely he was traveling on foot.

      “What if he’s not on foot, Tim? What if he’s not left on his own?” Rebecca stood beside the stomping horses and looked up to him, her face pale with worry.

      Timothy looked down at her, terrified at the thought and the men decided that only one man should check close to the house while the others widened their range. Rebecca stood wringing her hands frantically beside the horses.

      “We’ll find him,” Timothy tried to assure himself as well as the anxious, young woman.

      Rebecca rushed back to the house and changed from her inhibiting dress into the clothing she had arrived in. She returned to the woods surrounding Stavewood, calling for the boy until her throat was raw. She could hear the deputy call out Mark’s name occasionally in the distance and the sound of Birget’s frantic cries for the child kept her from losing her bearings in the deepening shadows of the thick woods. It occurred to her that the decision had been made that she stay close to the house,  but thought that perhaps if someone had taken Mark and found her instead, they may let him go.

      When she was no longer able to see into the thick woodland she made her way back to the house, stopping along the way to catch her breath and hoarsely call out for Mark.

      Lacking any more ideas of how she could possibly find him, she returned to the house and inspected every room and under every piece of furniture again. She spoke to Mark throughout her search, begging him to appear, pleading that, if he were merely hiding, he might emerge.

      Birget stood at the bottom of the stairs, listening to Rebecca’s wretched pleas and crying into her apron, sick with worry.

      Hours passed as Rebecca went between calling raspingly out into the yard and beseeching the boy all through the house until the staff thought they could no longer bear her desolate calls. Rebecca collapsed in the hall, begging for him to show himself, but no answer came from the missing child.

      Birget begged her to try to eat something, but Rebecca refused and went out to search the stables again.

      As morning dawned, a jagged chill in the air, Rebecca drug herself back to the house, having searched every crevice and building surrounding Stavewood. She collapsed into the kitchen chair.

      Birget stood behind the devastated girl and held her shoulders while Rebecca wept with worry and exhaustion. The cook put a plate of steaming soup before her, but she only looked past it, trying to think of someplace she had overlooked.

     Regular knocks could be heard at the main door, right after sunrise, as news of the missing boy spread throughout the territory and volunteers arrived to help search for Mark. At noon Octavia arrived, nervous and behaving oddly and wanted only to see Timothy. The butler sent her to the parlor in the rush of the arrival of concerned neighbors and friends.

      Rebecca busied herself in the kitchen where she found it easier to be distracted working with the swarm of concerned neighbors. She retrieved a large map from the wall in the study and spread it out over the kitchen table, examining it carefully and marking out the surrounding property. It had become apparent to her that it would be pointless for all of the volunteers to search for the boy without direction, possibly missing him in the confusion, and she began dispatching each group to cover a particular area.

      In the chaotic kitchen Rebecca made sure Birget prepared gallons of coffee to warm the returning search parties and saw to it that each departing group knew exactly which area had not yet been searched.

      Each time a band of men returned with no news her heart fell, and, as the covered areas began to expand on the map, her fear increased.

      The sun set too quickly, allowing the temperature to fall still further and whispers of concern over the threat of frost began among the men gathered outside.

      When Timothy arrived he passed the neighbors in the yard shaking his head in silent despair. He stood in the kitchen doorway, watching Rebecca, her face filthy and exhausted, as she directed the next search party to an area to cover.

      She looked up as she was dispatching the men and met his tortured gaze. His face was pale and ragged and his shoulders were slumped in pain. He approached her and studied the map beside her, leaning to support himself on the counter at the realization of how massive an area had been covered with no results.

      Rebecca grasped his arm firmly, directing a man beside her to take over and led Elgerson, senseless with exhaustion, to the study. She poured a liberal amount of brandy in a large goblet and handed it to him.

      “Drink it, Timothy,” she instructed him firmly. “You have a lot of friends doing everything that can be done. They’ll find him, I’m sure.”

      He looked up at her, deep circles beneath his tortured eyes and his cheeks hollow and ashen.

      “Rebecca,” he whispered huskily. He drained the brandy in one deep gulp and buried his head in his hands.

      She stood in front of him, her heart breaking, and took the glass from him. Silently she refilled it and set it beside him.

      Octavia entered the room from across the foyer, impatient with being left alone in the parlor, and stood in the doorway watching them.

      Timothy grabbed Rebecca by her hips and began to sob violently and the girl bent and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, silently sharing his fear.

      Octavia Weintraub turned abruptly and strode out to her carriage, whipping her horses to a swift gallop. She had a suspicion where her mother might be and rushed to find the woman.

Chapter Thirty-Four

   
 
A
fter
delicate prodding and a bit more brandy, Rebecca was able to direct Timothy up the stairs and laid him out on the bed, removing his heavy boots and riding clothes. In the dark of the previous night together she had never seen the man disrobed and could not help noticing his muscular, rugged physique. She covered him warmly and, after checking the procedures in the kitchen, instructed the butler to add wood to the fireplace in Timothy’s room.

     She returned to her own room, bathed quickly and changed into a clean dress. She hoped the bath would revive her, and that a break might supply her with a new plan. Back in the kitchen, a volunteer’s knock was unheard by the busy staff and Rebecca pulled open the entry.

      A brightly dressed woman, her bonnet flushing with feathers stood nervously on the porch.

      “I was wondering if there was something I could do. I heard about the boy disappearing and thought that if I could help in any way at all.” The woman, however striking, was obviously quite uneasy, and she looked from side to side past Rebecca apprehensively before addressing her directly.

      “Please excuse me.” She offered a silken-gloved hand as Rebecca invited her in.

      “I know you may not want me here, but I just felt that I had to try.”

      Rebecca appreciated anyone who was kind enough to help them locate Mark. She thanked the woman, grasping her hand warmly.

      “Hello, I’m Rebecca. Timothy is finally getting a moment of rest and I’m sure there’s something you can do.”

      “Oh, thank you. I want so badly to do something to help. My name is Bess Rival. It certainly is a pleasure to meet you!” Bess shook Rebecca’s hand vigorously.

      Rebecca led Bess to the kitchen, thinking that the woman certainly looked capable enough to take over the coffee preparation so that Birget might have a break.

      As the kitchen door swung open and she led Bess Rival into the room all conversations fell silent. A few of the men cleared their throats and Birget gasped loudly.

      Rebecca directed Bess through the hushed kitchen, unsure of exactly how to address the obviously concerned crowd.  She instructed Birget to allow Miss Rival to take over, and then to take a much needed break.

      Birget grabbed Rebecca by the hand and pulled her to the pantry.

      “What on earth is going on here?” Rebecca had no patience for the indifferent greeting Birget had given the woman.

      “Rebecca, how dare you bring that woman into the house!” Birget was frantic.

      “Who is she?” Rebecca asked impatiently.

      “Why she’s the Madam!” Birget gasped.

      “The Madam? Whatever are you talking about?”

      “The Madam. She runs the saloon in Billington.”

      “Well then I expect if she runs a saloon she certainly is capable of making coffee.”

      “No, no.” Birget looked back over her shoulder. “It’s got whores!”

      Enlightened, Rebecca understood the group’s behavior, but suspected the men’s reaction meant something very different than Birget’s had, especially since Bess Rival was a very stunning woman. She didn’t know much about the woman’s profession but decided that Bess had seemed genuine in her offer to help and any offer of assistance should be accepted.

      “I understand your concern, Birget, and perhaps at any other time this might be a problem, but this is not the time. If Bess Rival wants to help us find Mark, I will not refuse her kindness. If there’s even a chance that one thing can help us find the boy, how can I refuse her offer? We’re all exhausted with worry. Birget please help the woman find what she needs and try to get a little rest.”

        The plump woman listened and reluctantly agreed, although uncomfortable with the situation. She returned to the kitchen and instructed the Madam before making her way quietly upstairs.

      Bess Rival’s presence in the kitchen seemed much more easily accepted by the men once they saw Rebecca’s practical approach to the Madam and the serving of coffee resumed.

      Bess watched Rebecca move with command among the turmoil, directing men easily twice her size, despite her obvious fatigue and worry. Bess had heard talk of Rebecca’s presence at Timothy’s and the rumors of her beauty. Rebecca certainly was stunning, and Bess admitted to herself, probably perfect for Timothy Elgerson. Rebecca’s attempts to stop at nothing to find Timothy’s boy only illustrated further that she belonged here. Bess Rival sighed in resignation, her bright gown behind a white apron, in the kitchen at Stavewood, filling cups. There was no question in her mind that, however it had come about, Timothy Elgerson had the woman he had long needed right under his nose.