The Gunfighter and the Heiress - By Carol Finch Page 0,82
a bite to eat.”
Van sagged in relief. “Good. Since the hotel suite looks dark, that must mean she’s still at one of the cafés. For a moment there I was wondering if the Harpers might have used her to bait a trap for me.”
“That’s one way to draw out a man without facing his deadly pistol,” Monty remarked. “Better go find your pretty wife and keep track of her until we run the Harpers to ground.” He glanced at the marshal. “Afterward we’ll see what we can do about the two stagecoach robbers and horse thieves preying on this area.”
“I’ll check Canyon Café,” Van said. “You Rangers can check Caprock Café.”
“No sense bothering with Panhandle Café,” Dawson said, shuddering. “You have to have a cast-iron belly to eat there. That’s usually where I pick up meals for my prisoners. I figure they deserve it.”
Van wished he’d thought to warn Natalie away from Panhandle Café when they arrived in town. Most cowboys were well into their cups when they staggered in there to eat.
“I’m ready to grab a bite,” Bart insisted as he kept up with Van’s swift strides. “I hope we find Nat along the way.”
Bart glanced curiously at Van. “Do you still want that divorce you’ve been ranting about for two days?”
“Not unless Sunshine does. Hers is the only offer I’ll probably ever get.” Van stepped onto the boardwalk, then opened the door. He scanned the patrons at the tables but Natalie wasn’t one of them. If she were here, he would have spotted that bright yellow gown in nothing flat.
“I wonder where she could be if she isn’t here or in her room,” Bart mused aloud.
Concern furrowed Van’s brow as he reversed direction. “Maybe she decided to lie down before eating. She’s had a hard day, after all.”
“Could be,” Bart agreed as he veered back to the café. “I’ll grab something for all of us and bring it to the hotel.”
Van nodded, distracted. Every minute that he couldn’t account for Natalie’s whereabouts intensified his concern. Not only were the Harpers lurking about, wanting Van’s head served up on a silver platter, but rowdy cowboys were always causing trouble around here, too, blowing off steam before returning to their duties with the traveling cattle herds. Natalie didn’t need to be roughed up again. She had been knocked around too many times this morning.
Van halted at the hotel desk to check with the clerk, who was certain he had seen Natalie leave, wearing the stunning yellow gown. He admitted that he had stepped out for a few minutes so he couldn’t say for sure if she had returned.
“Damn it,” Van muttered as he bounded up the steps. He hated this feeling of fear that gnawed at him. He tried to tell himself that the Harpers couldn’t have grabbed Natalie. She had learned to defend herself. But what if…?
He clenched his teeth when several grim scenarios leaped to center stage of his mind. If Natalie managed to escape Marsh and his henchmen, only to meet disaster as a pawn used to lure him in, he would never forgive himself.
He unlocked the door to the suite, then called out in the darkness. Even if he awakened her from much-needed sleep he wouldn’t apologize because he needed to know she was safe.
“Sunshine? Are you here?”
He lit the bedroom lantern only to see the bed hadn’t been slept in and her satchel lay beside the end table. Van whirled around and hurried off to check the single room with the new glass window. Natalie hadn’t been thrilled with the prospect of another long-winded lecture from him. Maybe she had gone to her own room to avoid him.
Van hammered on the door. “Natalie!”
He was met with silence. Another ripple of distress slithered down his backbone.
“Mr. Crow?”
Van whipped around to see one of the lanky teenage boys who had delivered bathwater earlier in the day.
The boy extended his hand, palm up. “I was told to give this to you tonight.”
Van unfolded the note and felt his breath freeze in his chest.
Eye for an eye. One of yours for one of ours. We will tell you where to meet us in the morning. Sleep well, Crow.
In the morning? Van swore silently. He’d never last that long. The suspense of not knowing if Natalie was being abused like the harlot Madam Sadie mentioned would kill him before midnight.
And that was the idea. He was supposed to suffer all the torments of the damned, wondering where Natalie was and