Romancing the West (8 page)

“The schoolmarm.” Parker whistled. “Holy--”

“Lock up the files, Parker. I’ll be back as soon I handle this situation.”

“You might be away a good while, sir,” Sammy called, just as Athens breached the threshold. “Zoe’s missing.”

Kaila Dillingham’s mood was bright despite a slow day at Cafe Poppy. At least she
had
Cafe Poppy. A business of her own, not that she needed the money. What she needed was independence, purpose. She’d found that when she moved from Kent, England to the land of opportunity. Specifically, the American west, an untamed region that stirred her noble blood. For the first time in her adult life, she was truly happy. She had I. M. Wilde, the American dime novelist, to thank for that.

Since business was slow, and since she could afford to close early, she did. Thereafter she’d indulged in a bit of shopping. Wilde’s latest tale,
Showdown in Sintown,
presently burned a hole in the satchel of supplies she’d purchased at the general store. She looked forward to afternoon tea on her veranda, coupled with an exhilarating read. Later, she’d enjoy a quiet meal and a scenic sunset. She’d been working very hard since her arrival in Phoenix. Had she truly been here a month already?

A cloudless sky and a refreshing breeze prompted a leisurely walk home. Pedestrian and equine traffic diminished the further she strolled from the town’s center. An invigorating combination of serenity and excitement pulsed through her body as she viewed vast desert and distant hills.

Somewhere out there lived a man who could make her soul sing. A handsome, rugged lawman, or maybe a rakish frontier man. Each morning she awoke wondering if this was the day he’d ride in and sweep her off of her feet. She wanted an adventure. A romantic adventure. Oh, to be a heroine in one of her beloved dime novels.

Tales of intrigue, specifically Wilde’s tales as they always involved a dashing hero and a damsel in distress, played through her mind as she walked the edge of a wide sandy road. An arranged, loveless marriage had left her yearning for what she’d never experienced--heart-tripping passion. A girlish notion and she was a widow of twenty-eight. Still, she harbored hope that a cowboy would take her on a lustful ride, even if only for a moment in time. One passionate moment could make for a lifetime of contentment, or so she’d read.

Two blocks from her humble residence, she heard the rustling leaves crying. Perplexed she lowered her parasol and peered up at a massive cottonwood tree. She caught sight of white petticoats amongst the green foliage and two wee dangling feet. A small girl, surely no more than five or six, was nestled in the branches, sniffling and talking to herself.

Kaila couldn’t make out the anguished words, but the stilted sobs and hiccups tore at her heart. Her biggest concern was that the girl would slip and fall. “Young miss,” she called softly so as not to startle the tyke. “Are you hurt?”

The girl peered down at Kaila with teary green eyes. She shook her head no, her blond curls bouncing with the effort.

“Are you stuck?”

Another shake of the head and more sniffles.

“Perhaps you could climb down then and we’ll discuss whatever is causing you distress.”

She set her chin at a stubborn angle, clapped onto the next branch and climbed a little higher.

Heart fluttering, Kaila tossed down her satchel and parasol and edged closer to the trunk of the tree. She wanted her arms free in case the girl fell. When the blond monkey settled safely on yet another limb, Kaila looked over her shoulder for help. No one was around. “Oh, dear.” She tilted her head back, smiled up at the girl and kept her voice as calm as possible. “My name is Kaila. What’s your name?”

After a long moment she sleeved tears from her cherubic face and croaked, “Zoe.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Zoe. I have homemade cookies in my satchel. They’re quite delicious, if I do say so myself. Would you care for one?”

She bit her lower lip, nodded.

“Excellent.” Kaila’s shoulders sagged with relief. “Come down then. Slowly and . . . no?” Blast.

The sniffling tyke summoned Kaila with a crooked finger. “Could you bring a cookie for Sparkles, too?”

As the child was quite alone, she had no clue as to the identity of Sparkles. Regardless, Kaila took a napkin full of cookies from her satchel and stuffed them in the reticule looped over her wrist. She couldn’t fathom climbing a tree in her cumbersome ensemble. She didn’t want to scale the tree at all, but felt she stood a better chance at reasoning with Zoe face to face, ginger cookies in hand.

Again, she surveyed the area.

Deserted.

Before she could second guess her actions, she took off her ostrich-plumed hat, shimmied out of her bustled skirt, and, dressed only in bodice and bloomers, worked her way toward the wide-eyed girl. She did so with surprising ease. The branches were strong and plentiful, and she was fit and limber.
Well done,
she thought as she positioned herself on a branch opposite Zoe. To pull such a stunt on her native soil would have been scandalous. Women of title simply did not climb trees. She supposed her actions would raise a few eyebrows even here in Arizona Territory. Not that she’d shimmied a tree, but that she’d done so in her bloomers. Best to talk Miss Zoe down before anyone happened along. Though she’d abandoned her title, she still possessed dignity.

She dipped into her reticule and passed Zoe a cookie.

The girl thanked her and pointed. “Sparkles is sitting right next to you.”

“I see,” she said, even though she didn’t. She imagined, however, as she guessed Zoe was doing. “I’ll set your cookie on this branch, Sparkles. Help yourself and do enjoy.”

Zoe pursed her lips and nodded to the empty space next to Kaila. “Sparkles says you talk funny.”

“I’m from England. Do you know where that is?”

“Far away.”

“Indeed.”

“Sparkles comes from far away, too. She’s a forest fairy.”

Kaila smiled at the space that was Sparkles. “A very pretty one, too. As are you, Miss Zoe. Lovely creatures, the both of you.”

She smiled at that and nibbled on her cookie. Her cheeks were tear streaked, but her eyes were now dry. Progress.

“What were you and Sparkles talking about before I interrupted?”

“My brother.”

“Is he all right?”

“He’s in trouble.”

“For what?”

“Hitting our teacher.”

“Oh, dear.”

“Wasn’t his fault,” Zoe said with her mouthful. “Them mean boys called him liar.”

“Hmm.”

“And our uncles figmans.”

Kaila furrowed her brow. “Figmen?” Was that anything like a forest fairy?

“Said someone made them up.”

She pondered that then nodded. “Ah. Figments. Those boys said your uncles are
figments
of someone’s imagination.”

Zoe swiped crumbs from her plaid dress. “That’s what I said.”

“Indeed it is.” Kaila angled her head. “So why are you up here?”

“If Papa’s busy lookin’ for me, he can’t whup Zach.”

“Zach’s your brother?”

She nodded. “Papa told him if he got in one more tussle, he’d get a whuppin’.”

Kaila frowned. “Is that so?” The bully.

A dog barked at the base of the tree and she made the mistake of looking down. Her vision blurred. Oh, dear. She hadn’t realized how far up she’d ventured. She blew out a breath, focused back on Zoe. “Yes, well, it’s most noble of you to protect Zach, but your mother must be terribly worried.”

Zoe wrinkled her nose. “Do angels worry in heaven?”

“Pardon?”

“Papa says mama lives in heaven. Says she’s an angel.”

Kaila blinked. “Oh. I, well, I . . .” The branch she was sitting on creaked and her heart leapt to her throat. She wiggled closer to the trunk and grasped the limb above.

“It’s cuz you’re heavy,” Zoe said, though not unkindly. “You should get down.”

“Yes, well, you go first. Don’t worry about your brother. I’ll walk you home and make certain your father understands the situation and does not . . . whup.”

“Maybe we should bring him a cookie.”

Kaila blew stray hairs out of her eyes, tried to steady her nerves. “Excellent idea. I have plenty in my satchel. Can you make it down on your own, Zoe?”

“Yep. See ya later, Sparkles!” She scrambled to the ground in a heartbeat, leaving Kaila in the care of an invisible forest fairy.

“You wouldn’t allow me to fall would you, Sparkles?” Kaila asked through clenched teeth. Fighting a bout of vertigo, she swung her body to a lower branch and . . . “Oh, no.”

“What’s wrong?” Zoe called from below. “I’m caught. My bloomers, they snagged and . . . Bloody hell.”

“You said a bad word.”

“I know. I’m sorry, but I’m a bit flustered at this moment.”

“Want me to climb back up?”

“I do not!” Just what she needed. A little girl risking her neck to free
her
bloomers. “Maybe if I wiggle . . .” She slipped, heard a rip, and yelped as she clung to a branch.

“You loose now?”

“No, Zoe.” Kaila said, tamping down her panic.

“I’m still stuck.”

“I’ll get help. Look. There’s Papa!”

“No, wait! Wait!” But she was gone.

The dog, however, was rooting in her satchel, no doubt in search of ginger cookies.

“Shoo, you meddlesome hound! Go away!”

The long-nosed mutt stared up at her and licked crumbs from his snout. Then to her utter horror, he snapped up her skirt and took off running.

“Bloody hell.”

Morbid thoughts assaulted Athens as he searched high and low for his five-year old daughter. It wasn’t the first time she’d run off, but it was the first time he hadn’t found her within ten minutes of looking. After checking in to make sure Mrs. Wilson was all right and learning what had precipitated Zoe’s disappearance, he’d delivered his son to Parker for safekeeping.

“We’ll talk later,” he’d told the ill-repentant boy, struggling to contain his exasperation. Zach had accidentally clipped the schoolmarm when she’d tried to break up a fight between him and another boy. Soon after, Zoe had gone missing. His children were driving him to an early grave with their constant shenanigans. The sooner Seth delivered Emily, the better.

He’d schooled his frustrations and set to fetch his daughter, a girl who talked a blue streak to animals and imaginary friends, but clammed up around strangers (which constituted the whole of Phoenix). He’d expected to find her at the livery hiding out in a stall and playacting with the blacksmith’s new litter of pups. Or sitting in a tree swapping tales with Sparkles, a conjured fairy. Half an hour into the hunt and his nerves were shot. The same helplessness, the hopelessness that had pulverized him upon hearing of Jocelyn’s murder snaked up and strangled his spirit.

He was getting ready to enlist the sheriff’s aid when he spotted Zoe in the distance, standing at the base of a tree and shouting something up to the branches. He didn’t know if she was talking to a bird or Sparkles. He didn’t care. Relief fueled his steps as he sprinted toward his daughter.

She spotted him at the same time, raced forward waving her tiny arms.

He’d almost reached her when the little polecat swiveled round and ran back for the tree. Winded, fuming, he caught up to her and swooped her into arms.
“Goddammit,
Zoe. Are you trying to give me a heart attack? Don’t ever . . . how could you . . . ?” Emotion clogged his throat.

Eyes wide, she flicked a nervous tongue across her lips. “You said a bad word.”

“I know, baby. I’m sorry.”

“Are you flustered?”

“What?”

“Kaila’s flustered. She’s stuck in the tree.”

Please, God, not another imaginary friend.