Wilderness Courtship

“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 to be having a wonderful time drinking and eating the free food offered at the bar. A pall of smoke hung low in the stuffy room.

Thorne was glad that Emory was with him because the older man was well-known and was therefore able to readily convince the celebrants to form a vigilance committee and join in the search for Aaron.

Leaving the saloon in the company of dozens of inebriated, raucous men, Thorne jumped up on the edge of a watering trough and grabbed a porch support post for balance while he waved and shouted to command everyone’s attention.

“There will be a large reward for my brother’s return,” he yelled, pleased to hear a responsive rumbling of excitement in the crowd. “He’s a city fellow from New York so you should be able to pick him out from amongst the prospectors and immigrants. He was wearing a brown suit and vest. His hair is lighter than mine and he’s a little shorter. He has no beard or mustache. If any of you spot him, I can be reached through the Montgomery House Hotel or the freighter Gray Feather. She’s moored close to the main pier. Let’s go, men. Time is of the essence.”

Stepping down, he started off with the others. He would have preferred to head a sober search party but under the present circumstances he figured he was fortunate to have found a group of able-bodied men awake and willing to help at this time of night.

“It’s all Chinese down that way,” Emory told him, pointing. “Your brother’d stick out like a sore thumb in that neighborhood. The sheriff said he wants us to check the wharf while he and some of the others look in the gambling and fandango houses we still have. Come the first of April, bawdy houses’ll be banned on Dupont, Jackson and Pacific. Don’t know what this city’s comin’ to.”

“All right,” Thorne said. “I probably know the waterfront as well as most of the folks who live here.”

“Been a sailor all your life?”

“In a matter of speaking.” Thorne didn’t think this was an appropriate time to mention that he had long since graduated from employee to employer. Nor was it a good idea to flaunt his wealth in a town with a reputation for lawlessness and greed, mainly thanks to the gold rush. San Francisco had come a long way from the canvas and board shacks he remembered from 1850 but it still hadn’t managed to attain anything resembling the degree of civility Aaron and Naomi were used to back in New York.

Although Thorne’s clothing bespoke a full purse, his actual worth far exceeded the external evidence. And that was the way he wanted it. He’d found out the hard way that if a man had money there was always someone eager and willing to separate him from it, one way or another. That much, he had learned from Louis Ashton.

The difference was what lay in a man’s heart, not what lined his pockets, Thorne reminded himself. He would gladly pay whatever it took to get his brother back and not miss a penny of that money. Unfortunately, if Louis’s hired thugs were responsible for the abduction, he feared that Aaron’s freedom was not going to be for sale at any price.