and likely only because her leg hurt. But after she gained her feet she pulled away so they marched side by side toward the door. Ward fell back to let her step in first.
The Mountie sat behind a desk, writing in some sort of ledger. He glanced up at their arrival. Ward got the feeling he saw them both in detail but his eyes lighted on Red and he slowly rose to his feet. “Thorton said you’d been kidnapped. This man the one responsible?”
Ward’s neck tingled. His plan didn’t include getting arrested and maybe hung.
“He didn’t seem particularly worried about it, I might add. Said you’d be back soon enough.” The Mountie considered Ward from head to toe, no doubt silently examining him for a weapon.
Ward could assure him he carried no hidden pistol or knife. In fact, he kind of counted on the Mountie’s authority to accomplish what they needed. “I didn’t kidnap her. She was injured. I took her to a friend to be doctored.”
“That right, miss?”
Red dismissed his question with a wave of her hand. “I’m here to tell you the truth.”
“Always interested in the truth.”
“Thorton’s got my little sister under lock and key. That’s how he knew I’d be back.”
The Mountie came to rigid attention. “That’s a serious charge. One I intend to follow up on.”
“We’re counting on it.”
He grabbed his wide-brimmed Stetson. “Let’s go talk to Thorton Winch.”
Ward and Red trotted after the Mountie. Red would have burst into the saloon ahead of him but he pressed her back. “I’ll deal with this.”
Ward could feel Red’s hot impatience as they followed the Mountie inside. Mr. Winch jolted his chair to all fours when he saw the three of them. “Told you she’d be back.”
“She tells me you have her little sister locked up here.”
Thorton chuckled loudly. “She’s addled. Don’t know why I keep her.” But Ward saw the evil glint in the man’s eyes and knew he would beat Red unmercifully if he got his hands on her.
Ward didn’t intend he should get the chance.
“Have a look, Constable.” Thorton waved his arm to indicate the whole place was open to him.
“I’ll show you where she is.” Red stomped past Thorton, being sure to stay out of arm’s reach.
Ward and the Mountie followed.
Red threw open the door to a tiny room with a narrow bed against one wall. But the place was as clean and tidy as an unused manger. “She’s gone.” Before either man could think, she dashed back to the grinning Thorton and tried to claw his eyes out. “What have you done with her? Tell me.”
The Mountie peeled her off the man. “Sorry to bother you,” he murmured to Thorton.
Red broke from the Mountie’s grasp and raced outside.
Ward noted that Thorton appeared totally unconcerned. The man knew he had Red in his clutches.
Without a doubt his ace was Belle, Red’s little sister.
Where had he hidden her?
* * *
Red swallowed back a yard-wide wail as she stood in the center of the street. She stared the full length one way. Where was Belle?
She turned slowly and studied the other side of town. Slowly her thoughts settled. Thorton would not let Belle go if for no other reason than it forced Red to dance for the despicable creature who considered himself her owner. Belle was around here somewhere. Close enough that Thorton could mock Red’s frustration. She shuddered. He delighted as much in tormenting Red as in anything else.
Where would he hide Belle? Likely any number of men would help him. Men of the same quality as he. Like Mr. Shack, who ran the feed store. Or dirty Old Mike Morton, who worked at the livery barn. Mike had a little cabin behind the barn where the owner allowed him to live.
The perfect place to lock up a little girl.
Without a backward glance or a considering thought, she steamed down the street, crossed behind the store to avoid being seen approaching the livery barn. She reached the tiny cabin. Sure enough, it was locked solid and the windows were boarded up tight as a drum. She tapped the door. “Belle?”
Did she hear a rustling? “Belle?” She dare not call loudly and alert any of Thorton’s willing cohorts, but she was certain something—or likely someone—moved inside.
The padlock was solid. No way she could hope to break it.
The wood on the windows was thick and nailed to last eternity.
No willing tool stood ready for her use. She glanced toward the sky, her frustration longing to escape in a scream. But she bit back any sound.
She looked to the right and the left. Saw the woodpile behind the store. Where there was wood, there was an ax. Exactly what she needed. She clambered over the debris between the yards, found the ax with its head buried in a log, wriggled it loose and stomped back to the shack. Gritting her teeth, she swung the ax with all her might against the padlock. When it refused to give, she attacked the door. Chips flew but the door did not give way. Again and again she swung. If only she was stronger she could inflict real damage.
The racket brought Old Mike from the barn. “Whatcha’ think you’re doin’? That’s my house. Get away.”
When he tried to drive her off, she swung the ax at him.
He wisely backed off.
The storekeeper and several other men joined him in a knot.
“Someone fetch Thorton. He’ll put a stop to this.”
“Yeah. Seems he’s the only one who can make her behave herself.”
Their words lent power to her arms and she swung harder. Now she could see inside. “Belle, keep back. I’m going to free you.”
“Who’s she talking to?”
“She’s strange. Just like Thorton says.”
A whole section of the door gave way. Holding the ax ready to use as a weapon, Red poked her head through the opening. Belle sat shivering on a crude bed. “Belle, honey. It’s me. Come here.” She held out her arms.
Belle’s eyes were wide and staring.
What had these men done to her in the three days that Red had been missing? She swung about and faced them, the ax lifted like a sword. “Anyone touch either of us and I’ll leave you in pieces.”
The men kept back a safe distance.
She turned back to her sister. “Belle, come here. I’ll look after you. Just like I always do.”
Whimpering,
