Waiting For Spring Part 22

26.

Something's wrong." Charlotte felt her heart begin to race as they approached the house, and she turned toward Barrett, placing her hand on his arm. She wanted-no, she needed-the rea.s.surance that he was next to her. Perhaps it was her imagination, but ever since they'd left his house, her nerves had been on edge. There was no logical reason. The night was cold and clear, and for once the wind was not howling. Ferguson Street looked as peaceful as ever; no masked strangers lurked in the shadows. And yet Charlotte could not dismiss her feeling that something was terribly wrong. The closer they came to her home, the stronger the fear had grown. Now as Barrett halted the carriage, Charlotte knew she had not been mistaken.

"What do you mean? What's wrong?"

Trying to keep her hand from trembling, Charlotte pointed toward the stairway, which was now shrouded in darkness. "There's no light on the steps. Gwen always turns it on when one of us is out after sunset."

Barrett laid his hand over hers, the warmth sending waves of comfort through her veins. "She must have forgotten."

His voice was as comforting as his touch, but still the fear remained. Something was wrong. Not only was the stairway light extinguished, but there were no lights on in the apartment. Surely Gwen would have wanted to hear about Charlotte's evening with Barrett. She had been so certain that it was going to be a special one. And it had been.

"I might have forgotten the light, but Gwen would not." Gwen was almost ritualistic in the way she followed a routine. "Something's wrong," Charlotte repeated when Barrett helped her out of the carriage and they began to climb the darkened steps. When they reached the landing, her fear deepened. "Look, Barrett. The door's ajar. Gwen would never have left it like that." Even during the summer, when they would have benefited from a cool breeze, Gwen had insisted that critters, as she called them, might enter the apartment unless the door was completely shut. And now when winter still gripped Cheyenne, despite the calendar's claim that spring was only a few days away, she was too frugal to have allowed cold air into the apartment.

Barrett wrapped his arm around Charlotte's shoulders and gave them a quick squeeze. "Let me go first." He pushed the door open, then fumbled for a light. "Where's the switch?" Seconds later, the room was bright. "Everything looks normal," he reported.

Charlotte s.h.i.+vered as she entered her house. Barrett was correct. There were no signs of an intruder. That wasn't the problem. "It doesn't feel right," she said as she looked at the modest room that had been her home for almost a year and a half. "It feels empty. Look, Barrett," she said, pointing at the door to the room she and David shared. It was ajar. "We always keep that door closed at night," she told Barrett as she raced across the kitchen. "David's so sensitive to sounds that even footsteps can waken him."

Though they were both whispering, the fear that had lodged in her stomach shrieked that there was no need for whispers. Please, Lord, she prayed as she flicked on the light in her bedroom. Let David be safe. But he was not. The crib was empty, the blankets tossed aside, the pillow discarded on the floor. Even the wooden ball that David insisted on having by his side each night was missing.

As darkness threatened to engulf her and her legs turned to rubber, Charlotte gripped the crib rail. "Barrett!" she cried. "David's gone!"

He was there in a second, drawing her close to him. "Maybe he's in Gwen's room."

If only that were true. But Charlotte knew it was not. Gwen wasn't here. Opening the door to her friend's bedchamber merely confirmed Charlotte's premonition that something was terribly wrong. The apartment was empty. David was gone, and so were Gwen and Rose.

"Perhaps there's an innocent explanation." Barrett's embrace was comforting, but it wasn't enough. There would be no comfort until Charlotte had David back in her arms.

"There's nothing innocent about this. Gwen would never take the children out this late." Switching off the light in the front bedroom, Charlotte returned to the center of the apartment. Barrett stayed close to her, but he had let his arms drop, as if he knew that she needed to move without impediment. Where had Gwen gone, and why? The questions reverberated through Charlotte's brain, and with each iteration, her dread increased. The only answer made no sense. The baron. But if he had discovered her ident.i.ty, there was no reason to have involved Gwen.

Charlotte looked around the apartment, her eyes searching for a clue. Nothing appeared out of place. And yet . . . She took another step into the parlor area, drawn by the sight of a folded sheet of paper on the table next to the settee. It wasn't normal to have paper there, but somehow she had missed it when she'd rushed into Gwen's room.

"What is it?" Barrett's voice was rough with emotion. Though David was her son, Charlotte knew he loved the boy almost as dearly as she did.

Her hands trembling, she opened the paper, shuddering as she read the scribbled words. "He's found me. The baron has found me." Though there was no signature, only one person on Earth could have written the note.

Gently, Barrett touched Charlotte's shoulders and led her toward the settee. "You'd better sit down. I don't want you to collapse." When they were both seated, he drew her close to him. "What did he say?"

Charlotte began to read. "*Mrs. Crowley.' It has to be the baron, and now he knows my real name. *If you want to see your son again, bring me the money your husband stole.' He still thinks Jeffrey took Big Nose's stash, but he didn't."

Barrett stroked her hair, trying to comfort her. It was the same gesture Charlotte had used countless times to soothe David, particularly when he'd had a nightmare. Only this was no nightmare. It was real.

"What else did he say?"

"He told me what he wants. *If I don't have . . .'" Charlotte sobbed as she read the amount. "*One hundred thousand dollars by noon tomorrow, your son will die.'"

"Anything else?"

Charlotte handed the page to Barrett. "There are directions to the place where he's taken David." Gripping Barrett's arm, Charlotte whispered the final words. "He says if I bring anyone with me, he'll kill David." Her sweet, innocent little boy was in the grip of a madman. "I can't lose David. I can't."

Barrett shook his head, and Charlotte knew he was trying to encourage her. "The baron won't kill David. He has no reason to. You'll give him the money, and he'll release your son."

"I don't have the money. You know that, Barrett. Even with the gambling and the thefts, Jeffrey never had that much money." Charlotte bit her lip, trying to keep from crying. "I feel so powerless, trying to imagine what it must be like for David, being in a strange place with a strange man."

Barrett continued the rhythmic stroking of Charlotte's hair. "David's not alone. Gwen and Rose are with him. It's the only thing that makes any sense. Gwen will keep David safe until you deliver the money."

"What money? I don't have a hundred thousand dollars, and the banks aren't likely to lend me that much."

"Don't worry about the money. We don't even have to wait for the banks to open. That's why we're going to my house." Barrett rose and drew Charlotte to her feet. "I can ransom David."

He had told her that he had money saved, but Charlotte had not considered that it might be a fortune.

"Your savings? Your emergency money?"

"Exactly." Barrett headed for the door. "My parents didn't trust banks after the panic of '57, so I have a safe at home. I have a little more than a hundred thousand dollars in it. Come on, Charlotte," he said, tugging at her hand. "David is waiting."

Charlotte's legs refused to cooperate. She doubted they would support her, for they felt weaker than they had the summer she was expecting David, when she'd been so ill for so long.

"You'd give me all your money?" she asked, still not believing what she'd heard. Perhaps she shouldn't have been surprised, for Barrett had offered her his house, which was worth many times the ransom. Still, this was an incredibly generous offer, since the money represented his last measure of security.

As her legs buckled at the evidence of Barrett's love, he put his arm around her waist. "I love you, Charlotte. Both you and David. I'd do anything in my power to keep you safe."

Charlotte swallowed deeply, trying to corral her emotions. Fears for David mingled with relief that one hurdle had been surmounted. Thanks to this wonderful, wonderful man, she would soon be able to ransom her son.

"I don't know what to say, Barrett. *Thank you' seems inadequate."

The tension on his face subsided, and he smiled. "I'll collect payment when David is safe."

"Payment? How will I . . . ?"

His smile turned into a grin. "Trust me. You can afford what I have in mind. But first things first. There's no time to waste. Your son is waiting."

When they reached Barrett's house, if Mr. Bradley was surprised to see Charlotte again, he was too well trained to give any indication. He merely nodded when Barrett asked him to have two horses saddled. "I'm afraid we have no side saddles," Barrett said when Mr. Bradley marched toward the back door, his spine as stiff as if there were nothing out of the ordinary.

"I can ride astride." It wouldn't be comfortable, particularly in a silk gown, but that was unimportant. What was important was reaching David. Charlotte s.h.i.+vered inside her warm cloak. "Why did you ask for two horses?"

Barrett raised an eyebrow. "You don't think I'd let you go alone, do you? It's nighttime. You don't know the way, and I don't know who else is out there."

"But the baron said . . ."

"I know what he said, but he won't see me. I promise you that. Now, let me get the money."

Taking the stairs two at a time, Barrett raced to the second floor. When he returned, he was carrying a leather satchel. As he waited for Mr. Bradley to bring the horses out of the stable, Barrett unfolded the paper and stared at the baron's written demands, his expression pensive. "The handwriting looks familiar," he told Charlotte, "but it's so scribbled that I can't identify it. I know the place, though. It's the Franklin ranch. I heard the family gave up ranching last summer and moved back East. Richard mentioned that someone bought it, but he didn't know who. My guess is that the new owners haven't moved in, and somehow the baron learned that the place was deserted."

When the horses were ready, Barrett helped Charlotte mount hers, then sprang onto his. Turning to Mr. Bradley, he said, "If we're not back in three hours, tell the sheriff we went to the Franklin ranch."

Charlotte shuddered. "We can't tell anyone. The baron said . . ."

"I know what he said. That's why Mr. Bradley will wait before he calls the sheriff, but I want to be sure that we have backup. Just in case."

Riding was more difficult than Charlotte had antic.i.p.ated. It was true that she had ridden astride, but that had been as a child, one day when the boys next door had challenged her and Abigail to ride like them. Tonight was far different. Unlike the st.u.r.dy wool riding habit she'd had at Fort Laramie, her silk gown with its waterfall skirt and short train was not designed for the constant abrasion of a saddle. Unfortunately, not even the habit would have made riding astride easy. Her skirts hiked to a scandalous height, Charlotte clung to the reins, hoping she would manage to remain seated. What had seemed like an adventure when she was a child was now an ordeal, and yet Charlotte would not complain, for she knew that whatever David was enduring was worse. Much worse.

They were headed directly west of the city, Barrett told her as they rode toward the Franklin ranch. Though the sky was spangled with stars, the moon was almost new, the tiny sliver casting little light. The conditions were far from ideal for traveling, but the darkness would help conceal Barrett once they arrived. Though he'd promised he'd remain hidden, Charlotte suspected he had something in mind. What it was, she did not know. She had no plans beyond rescuing David. Getting her son out of the baron's clutches and into her arms was all she cared about.

Keep him safe, Lord, she prayed. Help Gwen keep David from worrying. When she glanced at Barrett, Charlotte saw his lips moving ever so slightly, and she wondered if he was praying, too.

"How much farther do you think it is?" she asked after what seemed like an hour had pa.s.sed.

"Not much more than another mile. We'll be there soon." Barrett patted the satchel that he'd tied behind his saddle. "I'll give you this when we split up." As they'd ridden, he had told Charlotte that he remembered the layout of the ranch. Though he was puzzled about why the baron had set the meeting for a work shed rather than the house itself, he had explained that he'd circle around and approach the shed from the back so that he would not be seen.

"In less than an hour, we'll all be on our way back." Though he had been tempted to bring a third horse so that Gwen would have a mount for herself and Rose, Barrett had worried about the additional noise and had told Charlotte that once David was free they'd figure out the best way for the five of them to return to Cheyenne. But first, she had to find the baron and give him the ransom money.

And before that, they had to reach the ranch. They'd turned off the main road onto a narrow lane that was little more than a path. Pitted with squirrel and fox holes, it was the most dangerous road yet. Though Charlotte wanted to stare into the distance, that was foolhardy. Not only was there nothing to see, but she felt compelled to watch the ground. Although she wasn't certain she could see any better than the horse, she wanted to guide it around obstacles. When they reached what appeared to be a smooth stretch, she glanced up. For a second, Charlotte doubted her eyes, but when she blinked, it was still there. Her heart began to pound.

"Look, Barrett." She pointed toward the figure she'd seen. "There's someone on the road."

"I don't see anyone."

"There's someone there. I know it." There was no time to explain that she'd always been able to see well in the dark. Charlotte squinted, trying to identify the figure. "It's a woman, and she's carrying a child." Dread and hope twisted themselves around her heart, leaving her breathless. This close to their destination, it could only be one woman. "It's Gwen. I know it is." Somehow she had gotten free from the baron. That was good. What wasn't good was that Charlotte could see only one child. Surely Gwen wouldn't leave either David or Rose behind. Perhaps it was David she was carrying, and Rose was walking behind her, hidden by her skirts.

Without waiting for Barrett's response, Charlotte flicked the reins and raced toward the woman. It was Gwen, she confirmed even before she reached her friend. She recognized her walk. Charlotte squinted, hope battling with fear as she tried to identify the child Gwen was carrying. Rose. There was no doubt, just as there was no sign of David. Biting back the despair that threatened to overwhelm her, Charlotte leaned over the horse's neck, wanting to be closer to Gwen. Judging from her slow pace and the slump of her shoulders, her friend was exhausted and overwrought.

"What happened? Where's David?" Charlotte cried, her words little more than a sob.

"Yes, where is David?" Barrett had reached Charlotte's side. His normally pleasant voice was harsh, perhaps because he was as distraught as Charlotte.

In the dim light, she saw Gwen recoil. "He's still got him." Gwen set Rose on her feet, admonis.h.i.+ng her not to stray. "He brought us here on a horse. Oh, Charlotte, it was awful. He had this crazy look in his eyes, and he was laughing all the while, telling me he was going to be a wealthy man. I told him I didn't care about money, but he just laughed harder. He said everyone cares about money."

Charlotte's thoughts began to whirl. It sounded as if Gwen knew the baron. Surely that wasn't possible, and yet . . .

"Why are you walking?" Though his voice was still firm, Barrett did not bark at Gwen.

"He took Rose and me into the house and made me promise that we wouldn't leave. He said it was going to be ours soon, so we should make ourselves comfortable while he waited for the money." She looked up at Charlotte, her face contorted with anguish, and in that moment Charlotte knew who the baron was. Gwen was suffering, not only because of what had happened but also because of who was responsible.

"I didn't want to leave David with him, but I couldn't fight him." When Gwen covered her face with her hands and began to weep, Rose clutched her skirts and hid her face in them. "The only thing I could do was try to get help."

"The baron plans to kill David." Charlotte wouldn't p.r.o.nounce his real name, for that would give him a touch of humanity that he did not deserve, not now when her worst fear had been confirmed.

Barrett reached over and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Not necessarily. He won't do anything until he has the money. He knows you won't give it to him unless you see that David is safe."

It made sense, and yet Charlotte could not dismiss her worries. Her son, her precious little boy, was being held hostage by a madman.

Gwen wiped her eyes and looked up at Charlotte. "I'm so sorry. It's all my fault. He told me you were lying when you called yourself Charlotte Harding. He said you were really some Army lieutenant's wife. I didn't believe him, but then I saw the Bible."

There was only one Bible that would have changed Gwen's mind, but it was kept hidden. Or was it? Charlotte closed her eyes, trying to visualize her room, trying to recall whether she had put the Bible back in the drawer before she left for her evening with Barrett. She couldn't remember opening the drawer again. She had left it out, and that meant that David's capture was her fault, not Gwen's.

Charlotte shook her head slowly. Gwen must have misunderstood, for her face crumpled, and she looked as if she were going to cry again. "I'm sorry, Charlotte. I shouldn't have done it, but I read the family pages. When I saw that he was right, I told him." Her shoulders shook, and tears began to roll down her cheeks. "I never knew he was evil."

"Who?" The question came from Barrett.

"Warren."

"Warren?" Charlotte heard the shock in Barrett's voice and felt his hand tighten on her shoulder as Gwen confirmed what she had surmised. Warren was the baron. She should have recognized it before. After all, her instincts had warned her that something was amiss from the first time she'd met him. If only she'd heeded them, perhaps tonight would not have happened. As it was, both Barrett and Gwen had been betrayed, and Charlotte's son was in mortal danger.

Keep him safe, she prayed again. Soften Warren's heart.

"I thought he loved me." Gwen's wail wrenched Charlotte's heart.

"He does." She reached down, extending her hand toward her friend. "He loves you in his own way." Just as Jeffrey had loved her as best he could. It wasn't the way Charlotte had wanted to be loved. It wasn't the way Barrett loved her. But it was all that Jeffrey had been able to offer.

Barrett dismounted and strode toward Gwen. Though Charlotte imagined that he was still reeling from the revelation of Warren's perfidy, his voice was devoid of emotion. "Can you ride astride?" When Gwen nodded, he gestured toward Charlotte. "Take Charlotte's horse and go home. There's nothing more you can do here, and you and Rose need to be out of the cold."

It was sound advice. As Charlotte prepared to dismount, Barrett reached up and lifted her off the horse, drawing her close to him for the briefest of moments. "I love you," he whispered. "Remember that." She would. No matter what happened, she would never forget that this wonderful man loved her . . . and her son.

"Can you forgive me?" Gwen asked as Charlotte approached her. "I didn't mean to hurt David."

"I know. It wasn't your fault." Charlotte gave her a quick hug. "Keep Rose safe."

Barrett helped Gwen mount, then handed Rose up to her. When they were headed toward the city, he put his arm around Charlotte's shoulder, squeezing gently as he said, "We'll ride together until we get close to the ranch. I'll get off then." He lifted Charlotte onto his horse, climbing on behind her and wrapping his arms around her so that he could control the reins. "I visited the ranch a couple times. There's a bend in the road right before we reach it. If we turn left, we can come up behind the shed where Warren's holding David. The only opening is a door in the front. He won't see you until you're right there."

Charlotte wasn't certain that her arrival needed to be a surprise, but she knew that Warren must have no idea that Barrett was close by. There was no telling what he might do if he realized she hadn't followed his instructions.

They were a hundred or so yards from the shed when Barrett dismounted. "Stall if you can," he said when he'd placed the reins in her hand. "That'll give me time to get there. My instincts tell me that we need to be ready to leave the moment you give him the money."

Though Barrett said nothing more, Charlotte knew he did not trust his friend. His former friend. Nor did she. Madmen were unpredictable, and that made them dangerous.

Charlotte nodded, though her heart was pounding so fiercely that she could hardly hear over its frantic beat. "I don't know what I'm going to do when I see him. I'm angry and scared at the same time. I'm so afraid he'll hurt David."

Barrett laid his hand on hers. "You're not alone. You know that. You're never alone."

When she reached the front of the shed, she saw that Barrett was correct. There were no windows, only a single door with light seeping out around its frame. Oddly, there were no sounds. She had expected to hear David wailing and Warren shouting at him. Instead, there was an eerie silence. There was only one explanation Charlotte could imagine: David was asleep. She murmured a silent prayer of thanksgiving as she dismounted and headed toward the door. She rapped on the door, then opened it and gasped. David wasn't asleep. He was lying in a crate, tied hand and foot. Even worse, he had been gagged. That monster of a baron had treated her son as if he were a sack of potatoes. Charlotte saw the trace of tears on David's face and watched as he started to squirm when he heard the sound of her footsteps.

"David!" She lunged, desperate to reach him and end his ordeal, but the baron stepped in her path, pointing a gun at her heart.

"Give me the money, or I'll kill both you and your brat."

27.

Charlotte glared at the man who'd once hidden his evil behind a mask, the man with eyes as cold as January ice. Though she'd suspected the baron was the man who'd shot Jeffrey, seeing him now confirmed her fears. This man was a killer. He'd murdered before, and he'd do it again. In all likelihood, he planned to kill her and David as soon as she gave him the money. Murmuring a silent prayer that she could somehow outwit him, Charlotte refused to flinch as she met his gaze.

"You won't get anything from me until I'm sure my son is unharmed." Somehow she would get David out of here, even if she had to die to do it. Though she hated the thought of leaving her son, Charlotte knew David would not be alone if she were killed, for Barrett would raise him as if he were his own. But first she had to free him.