Joline's Redemption (29 page)

Running away wasn't the best choice, but what else could she do? Walking through the open barn doors, she searched the stalls for the horse she'd taken from Baron's barn, but it wasn't there. She blew out a loud sigh. Now what?

Dare she take one of Gabe's horses? She knew he'd give her the animal if she asked, but then he'd know her plans and would stop her. She paused at the stall of a pretty gray horse, but it tossed its head and moved away to the back of the stall, eyeing her. They needed a calm horse that would put up with children, so she moved past several empty stalls to the next one. A brown-and-white pinto nickered to her and stuck its head over the gate, looking for attention. She scratched the animal's head and made her decision. “You ready to go for a long ride, fellow?”

B
adger tried reading about the land run that was to take place this summer, but he stared at the newspaper in front of him, not seeing the words. How had Sapphire managed to sneak away and disappear so well? And had Sarah gone with her, or had she seen Sapphire's success in sneaking off and decided to do the same? He'd been looking for them together, but what if they'd gone in different directions? One of them could be in west Texas by now, and the other … who knew?

With a loud sigh, he sat back in his chair. They'd been gone for weeks, and he'd not had a single solid lead as to where they were. He didn't want to quit looking, but Stoney told him when he was gone the other women thought they could get away with things, like refusing customers, pretending to be ill, and whatever else the dim-witted females could think up. If he wasn't careful, he might lose his business, and then where would he be?

He stared up at the ceiling, wishing he'd gotten rid of Sapphire's kid right after it had been born. Then he wouldn't be in this mess.

He muttered a curse and slammed his fist onto his desk—mad at Sapphire, mad at Sarah, and mad at himself.

Stoney pounded on his door. Only his assistant beat on it like it was a foot thick.

“What d'you want?”

The door opened, and Stoney peered in, unfazed by his bluster. “Someone's here t'see ya.”

Badger shook his head and poured himself another glass of brandy. He swigged it back and slapped the glass on the desk. “Don't want to see no one.”

“Ya might wanna see this one. Says he saw Sapphire.”

Badger sat up. “Why didn't you say so in the first place? Send 'im in.”

Stoney nodded and left. Badger grabbed the bottle and set it on the floor beside him then dropped the empty glass over the top of it. No sense lettin' his visitor know it was there.

Unable to sit still, he rose and strode to the door. He recognized the man walking toward him, but he couldn't remember his name. The man had spent more than one night here.

Stepping back to allow the man to enter, Badger gestured toward the chair that sat against the wall. “Have a seat.”

The man nodded, licked his thick lips as if he expected something, and then plopped onto the edge of the chair.

Badger took his seat behind his desk, leaned back, and steepled his fingers across his belly. He didn't want to appear too eager because then the information would cost him more. The man sure looked like he could use a coin or two. His faded overalls had more patches than the crazy quilt his ma made when he was a boy. “Who are you? And what do you want? I'm a busy man, you know.”

The man nodded. “Ernie Slaughter. I heard you was lookin' for one of your gals what upped and ran off.”

“Maybe. Stoney said you'd seen someone who looked like my missin' lady.”

“Not looked like. It
was
her … Sapphire. I'd'a knowed her anywhere with them big blue eyes and that yeller hair. Whooowee! She's a looker.”

Excitement churned in Badger's gut, but he kept his expression neutral. “There are lots of women around these parts with blond hair and blue eyes.”

“Maybe so, but they ain't got the attitude Sapphire has. She can pert near slice a man in two with that blue fire blazing from her eyes.”

Badger rubbed the stubble on his chin and studied Mr. Slaughter. The name sure didn't fit the pudgy bum.

The man frowned. “I'd have had her if'n some cowpoke hadn't come and helped her.”

Badger grunted. The notion of Sapphire taking up with a cowboy didn't sit well with him. “Did she have a young boy or a half-grown half-breed girl with her?”

“Nuh-uh. She was by herself, riding astride on a fine-lookin' horse.”

Badger described the horse Sapphire had taken from his barn. “Does that sound like the same horse?”

“Naw, that wasn't the one she rode.”

Where would Sapphire have gotten another horse? From that cowboy? He picked up a pencil, gripping it so hard it snapped in two. Probably from some besotted man she'd taken up with. “Where was this?”

The man lifted a brow. “I reckon that info'mation is worth somethin'.”

Badger stared at the man. Slaughter might be stringing him along. Since the man had been here before, he would know enough about Sapphire to describe her as he had. He might be wasting his money, but then again, this was the first potential lead he'd had. He tugged open a drawer, withdrew a pair of Morgan silver dollars, and pushed them across the desk.

Greedy eyed, Slaughter watched them move his way. He reached for them, but Badger laid his hand over them. “
Where
did you see her?”

“'Twas over in Guthrie, just yesterday. I hopped the train back here last night so's I could tell you. Spent my last dollar on that train. I don't reckon you could pay for my fare, huh?”

Sapphire was in Guthrie? Taken off guard, Badger fell back against his chair, and Slaughter snatched the coins. She had been only thirty miles away all this time? How could she have been so stupid as to stay someplace so close? Surely she knew he'd be looking for her. “You say you saw her in town?”

Slaughter nodded.

“Do you know where she went after that?”

“Nah. That cowboy looked like he could fight, so I just hurried back here. I knowed you'd wanna know I saw her.”

Feeling generous and a bit lucky that Slaughter had run into Sapphire, he tossed the man another coin. “Thank you for your information. Come back tonight for a free visit with the lady of your choice.”

Slaughter's wide mouth lifted. “That's right kind of ya.”

Badger nodded and waved his hand for the man to leave. As soon as he heard the outer door close, he yelled, “Stoney, get in here.”

The big man lumbered into his office. “What you need, boss?”

“Got my first real lead on Sapphire. Saddle up my horse. I'm going to Guthrie.”

Stoney lifted a brow. “How come you ain't takin' the train?”

Badger unlocked his gun case, grabbed a rifle, and started loading it. “The train arrived yesterday, so there won't be another one for several days. I can be in Guthrie by then.”

“Guthrie? I'm surprised she's that close.”

“That was my first thought when Slaughter told me. She should've run a whole lot farther.” He grinned for the first time in weeks. “I'm gonna get her and bring her back.”

“After you teach her a lesson?”

“Nope. I'll do that here so the other gals will learn from her mistake.”

Baron sat at the table, sipping his coffee, feeling worse than he had in as long as he could remember. He'd tossed and turned the night before, thinking of Jo and dreaming of her being hurt or in trouble. Why couldn't she leave him alone? He'd made his choice. He refused to be attracted to a woman who'd slept with other men—even if that woman was the mother of his nephew.

He stared into the liquid blackness of his cup. Why did it fail to revive him this morning as it normally did? Perhaps it was his lack of sleep.

Why did he feel as if he'd made the wrong choice where Jo was concerned? Even God had used harlots—he winced at the thought of Jo as a loose woman—in the Bible to accomplish His purpose. But he certainly wasn't God. And having special feelings for the woman his brother had lived with in a matrimonial way didn't sit well with him.

So why was he so miserable?

Footsteps came his way, but he'd noticed them too late to slip away. He continued staring into his cup as his father walked into the kitchen. He paused on the other side of the table and gazed at Baron. “Rough night?”

“You could say that.”

His father poured himself a cup then sat down. “What seems to be the problem, son? Are you still upset about Mark?”

“Shouldn't I be?”

“Of course, but then, you two were never very close. I guess it surprises me that you're taking his death so hard.” He took a sip of his coffee, and Baron could feel the man's eyes on him. “If I didn't know better, I'd think a woman is at the root of your sleeplessness.”

Baron glanced up. “How do you know about that—that I had trouble sleeping, I mean.”

His father lifted one eyebrow. “Because it sounded as if there was a herd of buffalo wallowing in a mud puddle above our bed all night.”

“My apologies, but that's the only room upstairs with a bed. I suppose I could move it to the other room.”

His father waved his hand in the air. “That isn't necessary. I had trouble sleeping, too.”

“May I ask why?”

He shrugged. “I'm struggling with the fact that I wasn't a very good father.”

Baron straightened. “You were a fine father.”

“Perhaps I was where you were concerned, but not so much with Mark. I never understood how your mother could coddle that boy so much.”

“Mark learned at a young age how to get what he wanted.” Especially where women were concerned.

His father wrapped both hands around his coffee cup. “I can't pretend that Mark's latest escapade and the news of his death won't hurt business, because they will. The Hillborne reputation has been severely tarnished. Your mother is afraid to show her face in St. Louis.”

He understood. His parents were members of the wealthiest class in St. Louis, and news of Mark would make its way to each house, to the gentlemen's parlors, the ladies' tearooms, and the country clubs. “Perhaps it's time for you to take Mother to Europe like you've wanted to do for so long.”

His father's eyes glimmered. “You know, I think that is a grand idea. We'd be gone for months, and by the time we returned, this awful news of Mark's affair with a married woman will have died down. Perhaps you should come with us. I know it would make your mother happy.”

He shook his head. “Someone has to keep an eye on our business affairs.”

“Don't say
affair.
Just the thought of it makes me shudder. Poor Abigail.”

“I suspect her parents will send her away somewhere, too.” Baron rose and refilled both cups then sat down again.

“To be honest, I think in the long run Abigail will be better off without Mark. In truth, she's been without him for a long while. She'll be free to remarry a man who will appreciate her more than Mark ever did.”

“That's true.” Baron hoped she didn't turn her eyes his way. She'd said more than once she wished she'd married him instead of his brother. When he thought of marriage, Jo was foremost in his thoughts. Was that because he hated how Mark had taken advantage of her when she was so young and naive? Or perhaps he merely cared for her because she was the mother of his nephew.

“Why don't you tell me what's got you so bothered? Somehow, I don't think it's your brother.”

“Telling you would only hurt you more—and I don't want to do that.”

Several expressions crossed his father's face; then he tapped his index finger on the table several times—a signal that Baron learned long ago meant he'd made a decision. “Why don't you tell me and let me be the judge?”

Baron considered doing that, but he'd promised Jo not to tell his parents about Jamie. Still … he didn't promise not to tell them about her connection to Mark. His stomach quivered.

“I could use some advice.” And his father had always given him good advice. He told him about meeting a woman who believed she was married to Mark, but he didn't say her name. Then he told how the woman discovered that the man Mark hired to marry them wasn't a real preacher—that he merely pretended because Mark paid him to. “So you see, she thought she was legally married to Mark, but he tricked her.”

His father shook his head. “I never realized your brother was so depraved. How could you and he come from the same source yet turn out so different?”

Baron thought it had to do with his mother's pampering Mark so much, but he wouldn't point fingers or say anything to make his parents hurt more than they already were. How awful it must be to birth a child and spend a good part of your life raising him, only to have him turn out to be so self-centered and cruel.