Wilderness Courtship. Valerie Hansen

Чтение книги онлайн.

Читать онлайн книгу Wilderness Courtship - Valerie Hansen страница 7

Wilderness Courtship - Valerie  Hansen

Скачать книгу

The hallway was deserted.

      She quickly lit a small oil lamp and tiptoed to the stairs, intending to help herself to one of the leftover cookies in the kitchen. She paused to listen intently. There were no sounds coming from any of the rooms except for Mrs. Montgomery’s familiar, loud snoring at the far end of the hotel.

      Proceeding, Charity was halfway down the staircase when she overheard muffled voices and stopped in her tracks. It sounded as if the parties involved were in the sitting room, which meant that her path to the kitchen was blocked unless she chose to dart around the newel post at the ground floor and hope her passage down the side hallway went unseen.

      That idea didn’t please her one iota. Dressed in a floor-length white wrapper and carrying a lit lamp, there was no way she wouldn’t be noticed.

      She was still standing there, trying to decide what to do, when one of the parties below raised his voice.

      “I’m not going back with you,” he said.

      A response that sounded like a growl followed.

      “No,” the initial speaker replied. “It’s not open to discussion. You won’t harm me. You don’t dare. Now get out of here.”

      This time, the growling voice was intelligible. “I have my orders and I aim to carry them out.”

      Charity wished she were back in her room, blissfully sleeping, but curiosity held her rooted to the spot. She did have the presence of mind to dim her lamp and cup her hand loosely around the glass chimney, however.

      Soon there was the reverberation of a smack, followed by a heavy thud. Her heart began to hammer. It sounded as if someone—or something—had fallen.

      Furniture scraped across the bare floors. Glass broke, or perhaps it was crockery, she couldn’t tell which. There was more stomping and crashing around just before the rear door slammed.

      Afraid to move, she waited and listened. All she could hear was the rapid pounding of her heart and the shallow rasping of her breath.

      Above her, a second door opened and closed. Footfalls echoed hollowly on the wooden floor. She sensed another presence on the stairs.

      Someone grabbed her arm before she could turn and look. She started to scream. A hand clamped over her mouth and a male voice, a familiar voice, ordered, “Hush.”

      Recognizing that it was Thorne, Charity nodded and he eased his hold. Instead of trying to explain what was going on she merely pointed in the direction of the parlor.

      “Shush,” Thorne hissed in her ear. “Stay here.”

      Grasping the banister she watched him descend as gracefully and quietly as a cat. He crouched, then whipped around the corner and disappeared.

      In moments he returned. He had tucked the tails of his nightshirt into his trousers and was pulling his braces over his shoulders. “There’s no one there now,” he assured her. “I’m sorry if I frightened you. What’s going on?”

      “I don’t know.” She was trembling like a silly child, but couldn’t seem to hold the lamp still even by using two hands. “I was hungry so I came down to get a cookie. The ground floor was dark. I heard voices. It sounded like an argument.”

      “Men arguing?” Thorne asked.

      “Yes. Two of them, I think. There was something rather familiar about one and the other was almost too faint to hear. I thought he sounded very menacing, though. I suppose I was just nervous because I expected to be alone.”

      “What did they say?”

      “Nothing much. One was talking about having a job to do and the other told him he wouldn’t dare, or some such nonsense. They sounded like two schoolyard bullies.”

      “Then what?”

      She shrugged. “I don’t know. I couldn’t see a thing from up here on the stairway. I guess there was a fight but it was over so quickly I’m not certain. I did think I heard dishes breaking just before the door slammed.”

      “There is some damage in the kitchen but the place is deserted, now.” His dark eyes suddenly widened and he dashed past her to continue climbing, taking the steps two at a time.

      Charity followed him straight to his brother’s room where he began to pound on the door.

      “Aaron! Open up. Now.”

      “Hush. You’ll wake every guest in the hotel,” Charity warned.

      Instead of heeding her admonition Thorne grabbed her lamp, then kicked the door and broke the lock away from the jamb. He held the light high, illuminating a circle that encompassed most of the small room.

      In the center of the glow, Charity saw Naomi sitting in bed and clutching covers that were drawn up to her neck. Beside her, the exhausted toddler barely stirred in spite of the ruckus.

      “Where’s Aaron?” Thorne demanded.

      “I don’t know. Someone slipped a note under our door. Aaron read it and said he had to go out.” Naomi began to sniffle. “I begged him to stay here with me but he insisted.”

      “What note. Where is it?”

      “I—I think he put it in his coat pocket and took it with him. Why? What’s happened?” Her breath caught. “Is, is he…”

      “Dead?” Thorne muttered under his breath. “I doubt it. But I don’t think he’s in the hotel anymore, either. I strongly suspect he’s been kidnapped.”

      Naomi gasped. “Are you sure?”

      “Relatively. I explored the whole ground floor and he wasn’t down there. Nobody was.”

      “I’ll wake Papa and send him to fetch the sheriff,” Charity said from the hallway. “We’ll search everywhere. We’ll find him.”

      In her heart of hearts she hoped and prayed she was right. If Aaron remained on land there was a fair chance they would be able to locate him, especially since San Francisco was rather isolated by the surrounding hills. If he had been taken aboard one of the many vessels coming and going by sea, however, he could already be out of their reach.

      It was a frightening realization. It was also the most logical escape route for anyone wanting to effect a successful kidnapping!

      Chapter Three

      Thorne finished dressing, pulled on his coat and joined Emory Beal as he hurried from the hotel.

      “I don’t know where to start looking for the law, do you?” Thorne asked the older man.

      “I’ve got a sneakin’ suspicion where the sheriff’ll be,” Emory replied. “Follow me.”

      They made their way up Sacramento Street and located the lawman holding court with the mayor and half the city council in the What Cheer House saloon. A large crowd was toasting the previous day’s groundbreaking ceremonies at Presidio Hill for the soon-to-be-built municipal water system and everyone seemed

Скачать книгу