wipe her hands.
"You suppose?"
She nodded. "I suppose." A teasing glint settled in her
eyes. "And I love you."
His heart all but burst right out of his chest. They
expressed their feelings for each other all the time, but for
some reason, at this moment, standing in the kitchen with
employees bustling about, and with a hotel full of more
guests than he could count, the admission meant more to him
than life itself.
"And I love you, so very, very much," he said, lowering his
face to capture her lips in a deep and loving kiss. They were
both trembling when they separated. He had to lean against
the table to keep his balance and felt the quakes of her
shoulders as she pressed against him.
"It's turned out to be quite a success. Tonight," he said,
needing a moment to gain his composure.
"Yes, it has," she agreed. "Did you have any doubts?"
"No," he said, "No doubts and no regrets."
She lifted her face, met his gaze. "No regrets," she
repeated. "Never."
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His legs once again promised to support his body, so he
took her hand. "Come on, I don't believe you met the
governors yet."
She paused.
He ran a finger down the side of her face. She was so
beautiful. The slightest glance had the ability to steal his
breath away. And she was his, would be forever.
"No doubts," he said, "And no regrets."
She took a deep breath and thrust her elegantly exposed
shoulders back just a touch.
"Yes, I think I would like to meet the governors."
Hours later, after the food had been cleared away and men
twirled women across the dance floor, Howard once again
found himself searching for his wife. Her father still hadn't
appeared, and the knowledge left him as edgy as a coiled
rattler. He made the rounds, the kitchen, the foyer, the dining
room—now cleared into a dance floor, and the wide veranda
running along the front of the hotel outdoors. There hadn't
been even a hint of her anywhere, so he turned around, back-
tracking his path.
In the kitchen, now cleared of workers, who upon leaving
the area immaculate had either gone home, joined the party,
or were serving drinks from the portable bar set up on the
front stoop, he ran into Jessie.
"Have you seen Randi?"
"No, I haven't. But I'm on my way up to check on the
children. I'll let you know if she's upstairs."
Two of the Timmer girls had been hired to watch the
children in the apartment above, giving Jessie and Lila the
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freedom to join the party. Howard figured between the two
women and his brothers, the children had most likely been
checked on every ten minutes throughout the night.
He nodded in acknowledgement, but then changed his
mind. More than likely, Randi had been up to peek in on the
children more than a few times as well. The tight, nagging
feeling of unease tickling his shoulders had become overly
strong, and he knew it wouldn't ease until he found her.
"I think I'll just come up with you. See if she's there
myself."
Jessie smiled, giving him a look of understanding and
turned to climb the stairs ahead of him. She started gushing,
going on about the festivities, the food, the Cowboy Band,
and a million other tiny details. He didn't need to respond. For
one, Jessie didn't expect him too, had known him long
enough to know he wasn't much for small talk, and for two,
his mind was too busy all on its own.
The evening really had gone on without a hitch, besides
showcasing the upscale accommodations their hotel offered to
travelers and locals alike, his brothers, namely Kid and
Skeeter, had been very efficient in quelling the rumors of the
Quinter's being members of the Populist Party. Not only was
the crowd enamored with The Majestic, the family's
reputation was once again held in high regard. The knowledge
was a relief to say the least, but still he couldn't help but
wonder where Fulton was and when he'd show up.
Part of him really hoped it wouldn't be tonight, wouldn't
put a damper on the success of the event. The other part of
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him wanted the man to walk through the door so he could
confront him and have the deed over.
Danny J had gathered evidence on Fulton. Not only had
the man rode with Quantrill after the war, but he'd been part
of several criminal acts since then. Danny had the proof to
have the man arrested, and Sheriff Sughrue was in-house,
ready to march Fulton straight into the new jail built on the
other end of town. Howard wanted it done and over with.
Wanted the man sent away where he'd never bother Randi
again, so they could set about living their lives, maybe even
start a family. She was well suited for motherhood, the way
she hovered over his nieces and nephews made the fact as
clear as the Kansas summer sky.
Jessie had stopped talking. He glanced down, caught the
expectant look on her face.
"The door's locked," she said.
He frowned and stuck a hand in his hip pocket to retrieve a
cluster of keys.
"Has it been all night?"
"No. It wasn't locked when I was up here half an hour
ago."
He inserted the skeleton key, and the nagging weight on
his shoulders turned into jolts of apprehension. His mind,
trying to work out who would have locked the door and why,
flipped to where the children were as soon as the door swung
open to reveal an empty sitting room.
Jessie hurried to the stairs leading up to the bedrooms.
"The girls must have put them to bed."
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He followed, for some reason not quite believing that was
true.
On the second floor, Randi, having just aided the governor
of Colorado's wife—who'd clearly sampled too many glasses
of wine—into their guest room, was just pulling the door
closed when a scream vibrated from above. She froze in her
steps for a moment as quivers raced her loins. A keen sense
told her it was Jessie screaming. Goosebumps leaped to life
on her skin.
She hoisted her skirt and ran along the hall. Guests,
stopping to gape both at her and the direction from which the
sound came, blocked her path every now and again.
"Excuse me, excuse me," she repeated over and over,
making her way to the door leading to her and Howard's
accommodations.
By the time she arrived, a crowd was forming with every
Quinter family member racing into her sitting room from both
doors. She ran to the far side, where Howard stood in front of
the tall windows. Noise filled the air, everyone talking at
once.
Howard let out a shrill whistle as she arrived at his side.
When the noise settled a touch, he said, "Someone locked the
children in a closet upstairs."
"What the hell?" one of the boys shouted.
"Who?" someone else wanted to know.
"Why?" Ma shouted above the rest.
"We don't know who or why," he answered, stopping the
stream of questions. "But whoever it was took Winifred."
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Randi's heart stopped dead in her chest, and she grabbed
his arm.
"It only happened a few minutes ago, so whoever it was is
still here," he continued. "Mary Timmer said it was a woman
in a black dress."
A bitter blast of the coldest chills she'd ever experienced
raced over her. Randi turned to Howard, praying he nor
anyone else, could possibly imagine it had been her. There
was no questioning in his gaze, no blame, but they were full.
She'd never seen vengeance so clearly before.
Twisting, unable to view something so hard and dark
coming from Howard, her gaze went out the window to where
the moon cast a mellow beam upon the water fountain.
Movement near the water made her squint and take a second
look. A shadowy figure, racing across the yard stumbled, fell,
and something landed in the pond.
"Winifred," she screamed.
Howard's arm grasped her shoulder. She twisted, trying to
break his hold.
"She's in the pond! A woman just tripped and the baby fell
in the pond!" she yelled.
The room exploded with movement. Randi, balling her
skirt with both hands, was amongst the mass racing for the
stairs. Somehow they all managed to descend the stairs, run
through the kitchen and into the back yard without tripping
over each other.
Kid had already arrived at the pond and stood in the
center, a dripping mass of blankets in his arms. Randi
stopped dead in her tracks. The look of horror on Kid's face,
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the unnaturally still bundle he held, and Jessie's pain-filled
scream splitting the air, slapped her all at once.
A second later, as if she had wings instead of feet, Lila flew
past. She landed in the pool and wrenched Winifred's little
body from Kid. He moved to take back his daughter, but
Skeeter, having jumped in right behind Lila, grabbed him.
"No," was all he said.
Her blood pounded like drums in her ears as Randi
watched Lila rip the blankets away. They floated to the water
and Lila covered the baby's mouth with her own. Winifred's
limp little arms and legs hung from her body, but Lila kept
breathing for the infant, and every few seconds she'd press
on the baby's miniscule chest.
Randi had to blink. Twice. And then cover her gasping
mouth with a trembling hand, wondering if she'd seen
correctly.
She had. Winifred's arms and legs had moved. Within
seconds the baby started coughing, and the next thing Randi
knew, Lila was handing a crying Winifred to a sobbing Jessie.
The thrill, the exhilaration, the blessing bestowed upon
them, would live in their hearts forever, but at that moment,
the elation was short lived, for someone, Randi wasn't sure
who, yelled, "Hog, the hotel's on fire!"
Flames, blazing orange and growing, licked at the back
porch. The men scrambled, and Randi, knowing she'd left a
bucket near the windmill, ran as well. She was filling it at the
pond when Howard, a bucket in his other hand, grabbed her
arm.
"Get to Ma's tent," he shouted.
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"No!" She wrenched out of his hold and hoisted her bucket
out of the water.
He snatched away her bucket, handed it and his to a man
beside him, and then bent to fill another.
"Yes," he shouted.
Empty handed, she stood, watching. Men had formed a
long line, and buckets, one after the other, passed between
their hands. Full ones going one way, empty the other.
Howard was refilling them as fast as they were handed to
him.
"Please, Randi, go to Ma's tent with the rest of the
women."
Randi didn't answer. She wanted to tell him it was her
hotel, too, it wasn't just his dream, his livelihood, it was
theirs, and she needed to help. But couldn't because she was
pushed out of the way. A second line of men, dressed in their
fancy party clothes, had formed another line right where
she'd been standing.
It was Aunt Corrine, saying, "Come on, Randi, get out of
the way so the men can work," and tugging on her arm that
made her move farther away from the pond.
Her gaze went to the porch, where flames ate at the wood
pillars with ferocity. Standing there, watching her dreams go
up in smoke, something landed in her stomach with enough
gusto to make her pitch forward. Her hands clutched the
area. Nothing had struck her on the outside, it was on the
inside. A strong wrenching that told her there was nothing
she could do.
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Still clutching her waist and fighting to hold in a scream
building in her throat, she twisted and ran for the tents. Her
arrival garnered hugs from many, even Jessie seeing to little
Winifred's needs, slowed to embrace Randi before ducking
into Ma's tent. She did experience a sigh of relief and joy,
when she noted all of the other Quinter children were
accounted for. Ma quickly explained she, Willamina, and Eva
had carried Kendra, Charles, and Joel out to the pond during
the mad rush to rescue Winifred.
Ma, with a mass of gratitude and tears, thanked Randi
profusely for saving her precious granddaughter.
She shook her head. "It wasn't me. It was Lila." Turning to
her red-headed sister-in-law, Randi asked, "How did you
know what to do?"
Lila, with Charles on one hip, kissed his curly-topped head.
"I learned it in my other life."
Randi probably should have commented, but she didn't.
Not only was there the fact she had no idea what Lila meant,