My Heart Stood Still (Sisters Of Mercy Flats 2) (25 page)

A gentleman in a passing buggy tipped his hat to her, and she
returned his smile as the horse clomped merrily along the road. The last thing she needed to do was draw attention. She must be careful to hurry about her purpose and remain as inconspicuous as possible. A passing stranger would think that she was merely a woman on her way in to town to purchase supplies—which was mostly true.

As she entered Brittlebranch, several more gentlemen tipped their hats, bidding her a pleasant morning. Nodding demurely, she acknowledged their greetings.

Riding straight to the mercantile, Anne-Marie dismounted and entered the store.

The proprietor glanced up when she walked in. Smiling, he walked toward her. “Morning, ma’am.”

Anne-Marie nodded. “Good day, sir.”

She was delighted to see that the shelves were adequately stocked despite the war. Quickly gathering the needed supplies, she lingered before the sugar, thinking how nice it would be to have some, but decided on a jar of honey instead. Selecting six nice plump apples from a barrel, she placed them on the counter beside her other purchases.

When the clerk saw that she had finished, he turned from where he was busy stacking canned goods and began to total her selections. “That about do it for you?”

“Yes, this should be sufficient. Thank you.” Anne-Marie fished inside her pocket and handed him a gold coin.

The clerk examined it closely, but he made no comment.

“You’re new around here,” he observed when he boxed her purchases.

“Yes.” A small, pretty porcelain music box caught her eye. It was lovely and she still had plenty of money left over from her purchases, but she didn’t dare. Creed would understand the need for supplies, but he wouldn’t condone a foolish whim like a music box.

“Right pretty, isn’t it?” the clerk remarked. He must have noticed that she couldn’t take her eyes off the trinket.

“Yes, that it is,” she agreed.

“Make you a real good price on it,” he offered. “Stocked it for Christmas, but with the war and all, I didn’t have any takers.”

“It is lovely.” Anne-Marie picked the box up to admire it more closely. The detail was exquisite. Tiny engraved flowers and vines encircled the lovely porcelain box.

“Quality craftsmanship,” he remarked.

It was indeed; the finest Anne-Marie had seen. Amelia was fond of doodads and she would love the music box. Before prudence intervened, she hurriedly laid the box beside her other purchases.

The clerk’s brows arched curiously. “You don’t want to know the price?”

“I’m sure it will be fair.” Anne-Marie glanced anxiously out the window. “Add it to my other purchases, please.”

“Be glad to. I’ll even wrap it for you,” the clerk said obligingly.

“Thank you, that’s most kind of you—if it won’t take too long.” Anne-Marie’s eyes returned to the search the empty streets.

“Looking for someone?” The clerk tore off a sheet of heavy brown paper and began to wrap the delicate box.

“No—oh, would you stick in a few pieces of the peppermint candy?” Creed and Quincy would like the special treat.

The front door opened and a woman holding a small child’s hand entered.

“Mrs. Bigelow.”

“Morning, Mr. Kinslow.”

“Be right with you.”

The young woman browsed while the grocer completed Anne-Marie’s order. Handing her the basket, he smiled. “Be glad to carry this to the wagon for you, ma’am.”

“Thank you, sir, but that isn’t necessary. I’ll manage on my own.”

Emerging from the store, Anne-Marie glanced up and down the street before hurrying to the horse rail.

A speck of violet hanging in Harriet’s Millinery caught her eye. Her footsteps slowed when she spotted the exquisite display of finery.

Drawn closer to the sight, she admired the beautiful straw hat.
Violet and white plumes adorned the sides. She had never seen anything so lovely. Slipping her hand into her pocket, she closed her fingers around the remaining coins left from her purchases. She had more than enough to buy the hat. After all, she had gotten the music box for Abigail, and Amelia would surely feel slighted if she didn’t receive a similar token of her sister’s affection.

Impulsively her hand closed around the doorknob and she entered the shop. When she emerged from the store a few minutes later, she was carrying a large box gaily tied with a red ribbon around the middle.

She paused, wondering how to safely carry the box and her basket of supplies, when a steely hand closed around her shoulder. Her heart sank when she met the cold, hard eyes of Cortes.

“Morning, Sister.” The outlaw flashed a nasty grin. “I’ve been hoping to bump into you.”

“Are you sure you haven’t seen her?” Creed paced the kitchen floor, his frustration mounting. For over two hours he had searched for Anne-Marie, but she was nowhere to be found. When he returned to the mission for dinner and found her and the horse missing, he had immediately begun to search.

“I saw her the last time you did,” Quincy told him for the hundredth time. “This morning at breakfast.”

Creed’s strained features darkened when he strode back to look out the window again. “Where could she be?”

Shaking his head, Quincy admitted that her disappearance had him stumped. “I’ve spent the last half hour scouring the gardens and the surrounding area and there isn’t a sign of her anywhere. The horse is missing too.”

Creed frowned.

“She told me she was going to pick mushrooms. I should have
known she was up to something.” He started for the door. “I’ll have to go after her.”

“We’d better get started. It’ll be dark soon.” Quincy reached for his coat.

“You stay with the gold.” Creed’s eyes met Quincy’s and a look of understanding passed between them. “She’s my responsibility.”

Nodding, Quincy stepped aside. “Feels like she’s gettin’ to be a whole lot more than a responsibility.”

“For the last time, I’m not telling you anything.” Anne-Marie stared straight ahead, determined to die before she told Cortes where the gold was hidden. The streets remained empty and she wasn’t sure if the store clerk had noticed the encounter. Should she scream, or quietly bluff her way out of the situation?

“
Señorita
, you are most unwise.” Cortes paced before her, hands clasped behind his back, looking pensive. Sunlight caught the dented badge on his chest. “And most stubborn, but Cortes has yet to meet his match.” His voice dropped menacingly. “Move her to the alley, men.”

Anne-Marie squirmed when Ollie stepped up and shoved her to the alleyway. Not a soul stirred there.

“Now.” Cortes’s squat frame pinned her to the building. “You will tell Cortes where that gold is.”

Her insides quaked, but she wouldn’t let him see her fear. She set her jaw. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Lord, please don’t let him hurt me. I can’t tell him where that gold is—I won’t betray Creed.

“Ohhhh, the woman has an obstinate
disposición
! Cortes, he appreciates a sense of humor, but I’m afraid he must resist the urge to laugh.” The strange man’s eyes turned steely. “You will tell Cortes,
señorita.
Where is the gold?”

“I will not.”

“You will tell Cortes!”

She stared straight ahead.

Ollie and Rodrigo exchanged anxious looks.

“The black man and the
indio
—where are they?”

“They don’t tell me where they go.”

“You lie!”

She fixed her eyes on the alley entryway. Not one man had rushed to her rescue.

Anne-Marie shook her head. “I mind my own buisness. You should too.”

Ollie pointed out the obvious. “She ain’t gonna tell us.”

“Yeah, but leastways we caught up with ’em again,” Rodrigo noted. “It was a sure stroke of luck that we were still in town this morning.”

Ollie shifted his stance. “If she refuses to talk, boss, there ain’t much we can do about it.”

“Oh, no, you are wrong,
señor
.” Cortes spat, and then wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt. “There are ways to make her tell us what it is we wish to know.”

Rodrigo stirred uneasily. “I don’t know, boss—”

“Do we not know of ways to loosen her tongue?” Cortes prodded. “The well?”

Rodrigo shifted. “Are you talking about that old shaft we came across a few months back? The one with all those creepy slimy things crawling around? We gonna throw her down there?”

“Can you think of a better way to make her tell us what she knows? We put her there and when she is ready to talk we bring her up. If she still isn’t persuaded to say where the gold is, then we leave her there.”

Ollie shook his head. “Those iguanas would loosen about anything in a body.”

The men turned pensive.

Rodrigo finally broke the silence. “I don’t think we oughta. After all, she is a woman. I ain’t a religious man, but it does seem downright mean mistreating a woman.”

Anne-Marie blinked. At the mention of iguanas her pulse threatened to thump out of her neck. Her heart was throbbing so painfully against her ribs that she could barely breathe.
Stay calm. Stay calm.
No matter what they said or did to her, she would never tell them where Creed and the gold were. Nothing they could do—including throwing her down some old well—would make her further endanger Creed’s mission. She refused to cause him another ounce of trouble.

Cortes spat on the ground. “I will know where she has hidden the gold. Put her on the horse and we will take her away—somewhere no one will hear her screams.”

Anne-Marie dropped the music box and supplies when Rodrigo grasped her by the arm and dragged her to a waiting horse. Squirming, she bit into his hand and fought until he stuffed a dirty rag in her mouth.

Manhandling her into the saddle, he mounted up behind her.

“What about the Indian?” Ollie called. “Are you figuring he’ll come after her?”

“He will come. Then Cortes will have the gold.”

The three riders thundered out of town to the deafening sound of hooves.

Sixteen

I
t was nearing dark when Creed entered Brittlebranch on foot. The storefronts were dark, the shops closed for the day.

Piano music filtered from the saloon when he slipped through the shadows on the sidewalk. When he saw that the clerk in the mercantile was just locking up, his pace quickened.

The clerk glanced up when confronted by a pair of hard black eyes. For a moment he couldn’t find his voice as he stared eyeball to eyeball with the Crow.

Nodding solemnly, the Indian spoke. “I am looking for a woman.”

“Good heavens, man. I can’t help you. You’ll have to find your own women.”

“No, a particular woman. Small, pretty, red hair, dressed in a worn blouse and skirt. Have you seen her?”

“Yes, she was in earlier in the day. Bought some staples and a music box,” the grocer said.

Creed stared at the storekeeper. “A music box?”

He nodded. “Yeah, a right pretty one, porcelain—real dainty like—”

The Crow interrupted. “Did you see where she went after she made her purchases?”