Stuck Together (Trouble in Texas Book #3) (6 page)

“Is there any food left for me?” the driver asked. He looked right at Glynna, then at Tina and Melissa. The man looked stunned to be surrounded by so many pretty ladies
in a little town like Broken Wheel. He dragged his hat off and couldn’t know that his hair stood straight up on top of his head. Clutching the hat brim, he looked around at the women, seemingly in no hurry to eat. The man even took a long look at Mother. Flattering, considering she was thirty years his senior.

Vince noticed Paul go by the diner window dragging something. It had to be one of the trunks, which must weigh so much the boy couldn’t entirely lift it. Had they moved their entire household to Broken Wheel?

Janny quickly got the coach driver a meal, and he took a seat at an adjoining table, as if content to sit there and wolf down his food while leering at the women.

Glynna hurried to get more cups before her daughter could take over and run the whole diner herself. A scraping sound from outside drew Vince’s attention, and he saw Paul pass by the window going back toward the carriage. The boy had gotten himself saddled with a big job.

“So, Vince, introduce us,” Jonas said, always the one doing the thinking.

“Father, these are friends of mine from the war,” Vince replied.

There was no attempt to conceal Father’s sound of disgruntlement. He’d had the money and influence to keep Vince out of the war, yet Vince had shoved the offer back in his father’s face.

“I was in Andersonville Prison with Jonas and Dare. Jonas Cahill is the parson here in Broken Wheel, and Darius Riker is the doctor.”

Father gave Jonas a dismissive glance. A man of God didn’t warrant much notice from Julius Yates. No money
in that profession. Then he turned to watch Dare pace. A doctor could be successful, if he was shrewd.

Dare was shrewd enough to note the dismissal of Jonas, the best and most decent of them. Jonas had a streak of shrewd in him too, because he noticed the lack of respect and tensed beside Vince.

“This diner is owned and operated by Dare’s wife, Glynna. Her son, Paul, is lugging your trunks, and her daughter, Janet, is serving your coffee.”

That earned a grunt from Father. Instead of appreciating the help, he’d just lowered his opinion of Dare’s whole family because serving others marked them as low class.

“Sitting beside you is Tina Cahill.” A woman I would like to drag outside and kiss the living daylights out of. There was an introduction that would get a strong reaction from everyone. “She’s Jonas’s sister.”

Vince sincerely hoped Jonas couldn’t read minds, because he was an overprotective big brother. If Jonas caught him kissing Tina, he’d probably shoot Vince dead, even though that was completely against Jonas’s religion. Anyway, Vince knew it would never happen, because getting shot would be a relief about now and Vince just wasn’t that lucky.

Vince was discovering all his childhood training in manners was easy to use if he had a mind to. “These are my best friends in the world.” He glanced around the table, and even Tina looked at him for a second. “I’d like you all to meet my father, Julius, my mother, Virginia Belle, and my sister, Melissa.”

“Julius.” Dare reached out a hand to Father.

Who nodded and shook it. “Dr. Riker.”

In that moment of tension, with Father looking down his nose at everyone, the women bustling in and out with coffee and pie, Janny asking questions quietly in the background, Vince only distantly noticed the diner’s front door open and close quietly.

Several minutes had passed before Melissa cut through the chatter. “Where’s Virginia Belle?”

Vince jumped to his feet. Father scowled and looked around the room.

“She must’ve gone out the front.” Glynna stood in the kitchen door, the only back way out of the place. She looked confused. As if wondering why someone stepping outside would be a problem.

Unless that someone wasn’t thinking right.

Vince whirled and nearly fell over the bench seat. He caught himself and raced for the door. He barely noticed Melissa only steps behind him.

He rushed out of the diner, looking all around. “Where did she go?”

“We have to find her before she gets out into the countryside. Where did my basket go?” Melissa demanded it like it was life or death.

“Paul probably took it to the boardinghouse. What difference does a stupid basket make?” Vince hurried toward the boardinghouse. On all sides of this tiny town lay trackless miles of rugged wilderness. If Mother got lost out there, she might die before they could find her.

He looked back to see the rest of his friends pour out of the building and took command like he had so many times in the war. “Fan out. She can’t have gotten far. She’s not . . . not thinking right.”

“We’ll split up.” Dare let Vince know he’d caught the meaning behind those few words.

Vince saw a flash of white on the ground right in the middle of the street. He raced for it and picked up a delicate lace handkerchief. It had to be Mother’s. Common sense dictated that he check the buildings, and he did take a quick look inside the coach, thinking Mother might be drawn to the familiar. But this was Mother, so once the coach proved to be empty, he ignored common sense and ran toward the wilderness to the west of Broken Wheel. If she’d stayed in town, they’d find her fast, as there weren’t that many buildings to search. It was only if she’d wandered out of town that she’d be in trouble.

A motion to his right caught his attention, and he saw Melissa running for Asa’s. A good place to search, but Vince thought they should get to the edge of town and fast. Just then a crash sounded from inside the boardinghouse, followed by a shout of fear. A boyish shout, not Mother’s voice. The noise brought Vince to a stop. The boardinghouse door slammed open. Paul came tearing out, yelling for all he was worth.

Behind him, a blur of brown-and-white fur howled, snapping its teeth. Vince reached for his gun.

“Livvy, heel!” Melissa shouted. When Melissa shouted, Vince recognized it was a dog chasing Paul.

There were no dogs in Broken Wheel.

It stopped nipping at Paul and whirled to charge Melissa, baying with every long pace.

Vince pivoted to save Melissa, knowing the dog was going for her throat. Vince was too far away to protect her.
She was standing between him and the dog, so his drawn gun was useless.

He’d taken two running steps when the dog skidded to a halt, turned to stand at her heel, and plunked its backside down, panting. It looked at Melissa with devotion, its long pink tongue lolling out of its mouth.

It was a foxhound. Vince had seen one often enough. They used them to hunt runaway prisoners in the South. Runaway slaves too, it was said.

Maybe the midsize, short-haired dogs even hunted the occasional fox.

Melissa dropped to her knees in front of the white dog with its big brown spots just as Vince came up beside them. He wanted to yell at her for playing with a dog when Mother was missing, but he didn’t have time.

“Livvy, find Virginia Belle,” Melissa commanded. She ran a hand gently over the dog’s head. The dog yipped once, then stood, wheeled in a full circle as if planning to start chasing its tail, and froze, facing the west. With a deep-throated howl the dog raced away. Melissa ran after it.

That dog was hunting his mother. It took Vince a moment to overcome the horrible image. Then he took off in pursuit of Melissa, who was in pursuit of the dog, which was in pursuit of Virginia Belle Yates.

Tina had no idea what was going on. Vince’s mother had gone outside? Why in the world did that cause such a fuss? Why were they all running around hunting for her?

But they were, and Tina didn’t get a chance to ask questions.

Vince had yelled at Dare, “She’s not thinking right.”

Then Melissa had raced out of town after a dog. Where had the dog come from?

Vince was hard on Melissa’s heels. A ladylike woman such as Melissa sprinting somehow scared Tina more deeply than seeing Vince run.

Why would Vince and Melissa assume Mrs. Yates would head out of town? The woman had most likely gone looking for a privy or walked over to the boardinghouse to see about her luggage. It made no sense to race out of town, but their worry was undeniable.

“She’s not thinking right.”
Those were Vince’s words.

“Mother!” Vince’s deep voice sounded from behind the jailhouse.

Back there was nothing but red stone, scrub juniper, cottonwood and mesquite trees, and cold, cold wind. A
woman might want to go for a brisk walk, stretch her legs after a long carriage ride, but she would mention it, tell them where she was headed. No one in her right mind would leave the warm diner to go for a stroll in the cold, and certainly not without saying she was going.

“She
’s not thinking right.”

Tina’s gut twisted. There’d been no chance to exchange a word with Mrs. Yates. The woman had quietly eaten her pie and sipped at her coffee. Beyond noticing the woman was very pretty and dressed in lovely clothes, she’d barely drawn Tina’s notice.

Deciding to eliminate the obvious before chasing out into the countryside, Tina hurried across the street toward the jail. She was in and out quickly and quietly. A snoring prisoner, but no sign of Virginia Belle Yates.

Glynna stepped out of the general store at the same time Jonas emerged from Duffy’s Tavern.

He had Duffy and Griss with him, all three of them talking fast in the blustery wind. The Schuster brothers headed for the livery stable. Helping. Tina was almost sorry she’d spent the last few months tormenting the lousy gin-peddling coyotes. Almost . . . but not quite.

Dare came around from behind the saloon. His house, which was also his doctor’s office, was back there. Tina and Jonas lived in a house back there beside the church, and most of the other houses in town were on that side, as well.

Glynna emerged from the boardinghouse.

Even the driver, carrying his plate in hand and chewing as if he were starving, was walking around town, poking his nose in each building. Between bites he called out for Mrs. Yates.

“Virginia Belle?” The high, falsely perky tone of Melissa Yates’s voice could be heard in the wooded area to the west of town. Vince’s voice, on the other hand, was a deep echo.

Why would they think Mrs. Yates would leave town on foot?

“She’s not thinking right.”

Tina rushed toward Dare, Glynna, and Jonas. All four of them met in the middle of the street.

Taking a look around, Dare said, “We’ve got someone searching every business, home, barn, shed, and privy in town, including the abandoned ones. I told them to check the storerooms, attics, cellars, and crawl spaces.”

“What’s going on?” Tina looked between the others.

Dare shook his head. “No idea. But Vince said to search so we’re searching.”

Glynna asked, “Did I hear a dog?”

“Yes, I suppose there was a dog on the coach with the Yates family. I didn’t notice it when they arrived, but Melissa called it by name. Vince and Melissa ran after it. I can’t figure out why they’re chasing a dog when they should be hunting for Vince’s ma. And I can’t figure out why we’re even hunting for Mrs. Yates. Surely she wouldn’t leave town in this cold.”

Tina scanned the area. She saw people still scurrying around, everyone hunting. Tug stomped out of his general store toward his house, the man tugged on his beard, a constant habit that had earned him the nickname. As he walked home, he muttered words Tina was glad she couldn’t hear.

Duffy poked his nose out of the haymow window of the livery. Sledge headed toward his ramshackle cabin behind the parsonage.

And that was when she noticed the door to the diner ajar. Julius Yates was eating a bite of his pie.

“If we’re all searching, why isn’t Vince’s father? We must be overreacting just because Vince did.”

“Melissa did, too,” Glynna pointed out. “Vince hasn’t seen his mother in years it sounds like, so he might be overreacting. But Melissa should know if there’s reason to worry.”

“Virginia Belle?” The voice was unmistakably Melissa’s. “Virginia Belle, come on back.” The tone of her voice was strange, coaxing, almost like she was playing hide-and-seek, but also touched with fear. “Virginia Belle, where are you?”

The foxhound bayed in the distance.

“So why not Mr. Yates?” Tina thought for only seconds. She trusted Vince’s and Melissa’s reaction, and yet . . . “My aunt Iphigenia always said ‘A body should remedy suspicion by procuring to know more.’” It was an old saw that Aunt Iphigenia usually used as an excuse to gossip. But in this instance it made sense. “I think I’ll go
procure
some knowledge from our very unconcerned Mr. Yates.”

She strode toward the diner. If they needed to search, she’d search, but first she’d get some answers.

Inside, she couldn’t fathom Mr. Yates’s relaxed demeanor. He was refilling his coffee cup. The pot had been left sitting on the table by Janny when she’d run out to help locate Virginia Belle.

“You don’t seem that worried about your wife, Mr. Yates.”

He took a long sip of his coffee, grimaced over it like it didn’t meet his exacting standards, and said, “She’ll turn up. She always does.”

Vince and Melissa could still be heard in the distance, calling.

Vince infuriated her. Always interfering with her mission to close the saloon. Unkind toward poor Lana Bullard. And the big lout shouldn’t have pulled her into his arms the way he had. And she certainly shouldn’t have enjoyed it so much. Even so, he was out there now, frantically searching, fearful for his missing mother.

Yet here sat the man who’d taken vows before God and witnesses to love and protect his wife, calmly sipping coffee.

Tina had a few more questions for the strangely indifferent man.

Oh yes, she had a few more questions indeed.

The dog dashed at a clump of scrub juniper, yelped, and spun away.

Vince heard an all-too-familiar rattle. “Stay back!” He rushed forward, grabbed Melissa around the waist, and whirled her away. “Rattlesnake.”

Melissa gave him a frightened look over her shoulder. The rattle sounded again as Vince hauled her to safety, giving the snake a wide berth.

Livvy vanished around a man-high slab of red rock, then reappeared, charging straight for Vince. The dog ran in circles around Vince’s legs, sniffing his boots and Melissa’s legs.

Melissa stopped and waited for the dog to pick a direction. Vince stood at her side, half crazed with the need to move, to hunt, to do
something
.

Looking at the hound, Melissa said, “What’s the matter? She always runs right for her?”

“Always.” Stomach twisting at the word, Vince kept a firm grip on his little sister. It helped to have someone to hang on to. “She’s confused by all the new smells, I reckon. Let’s give her a few minutes to settle down.”

Forcing himself to stay still so as not to distract the dog, Vince said to Melissa, “You said ‘always’—does this happen often?”

Melissa looked up at him, true sadness and worry on her face. “That’s why we got the dog. We take a lot of precautions. I lock the doors day and night. The windows are now impossible for her to open. Virginia Belle never goes out alone. With all that, still, sometimes she slips away. Not very often anymore. A few times she’s gotten out through the kitchen door when it was left unlocked just for a moment. Twice she vanished while we were walking in the park. Livvy found her every time.”

“In Chicago?” Vince swallowed hard. “With all those busy streets and crowds of folks? How does the dog find her there?” And how had Mother kept from being run over or assaulted?

Melissa shrugged. He felt her slender, strong arm move, saw her square shoulders that looked used to bearing weight. “That’s why this surprises me. Livvy has followed her scent in really difficult situations.”

“My mother seems fond of you. She . . . she knows your name.” He didn’t add that Mother hadn’t known his, but he suspected she got the point.

“She doesn’t really. She calls me Missy, while no one else does. It’s not really my name but the name she gave
me. Your . . . uh, our father said she has a cousin who was a close childhood friend named Missy. I think your mother has me confused with her. But she does remember it, almost always.” With a sad smile she added, “She never forgets the dog’s name. She really seems to like her.”

The foxhound snuffled at a clump of blue-stemmed grass, and Melissa snapped, “Livvy! Find Virginia Belle.”

The dog looked up at Melissa and whined, then came up and sniffed Vince’s hand.

Looking down, Vince realized he still clutched the handkerchief Mother had dropped on the street.

“That’s what’s stopped her. He smells Virginia Belle on that kerchief.” Melissa yanked it out of Vince’s hand and crouched in front of the dog so it could sniff the cloth. “Find Virginia Belle, Livvy. Go on.”

The dog spun and began moving again, but slowly, sniffing left and right.

Vince itched to set off on his own. He’d give the dog a few more minutes, then he’d resume his own hunt.

“So you’re my little sister? I reckon there’s a story there.” Vince did his best not to sound like he blamed Melissa for that. It sure enough wasn’t her fault.

“Our father was with my mother for years. I didn’t know they weren’t married until I was around twelve years old. There were two other children, a set of twins younger than me, a boy and a girl.”

“God have mercy,” Vince muttered. “He had three children with your ma?”

Nodding, Melissa said, “Elizabeth and Richard. They favored Father in appearance just like we both do. There was a scarlet fever outbreak when I was around fifteen,
and it killed Ma and both of the younger ones. Father had sent me away to school, so I didn’t catch it.”

“I went to boarding school too, but I had a tendency to run off,” Vince said. “Father finally gave up on me.”

“I liked school. By then I knew my parents weren’t married and I was ashamed and glad to get away. Two years ago I finished school and he took me to live with him and gave me the job of caring for Virginia Belle.”

“That was shortly after I was home for the last time.”

“I had no idea he had another son until I went to work for him and I saw your picture hanging in his house. It’s true he’s my father, but he treats me like a servant, not a daughter. I sleep in a room beside your mother, so I’m not in the servants’ quarters, but that’s just so I can be on hand to care for her.”

“But he introduced you as my sister.”

“When he said that, it was the first I’ve heard him admit it to anyone, and my picture certainly isn’t hanging up anywhere. But the resemblance is so strong I’m sure most people who see me guess the truth. During my growing-up years he had little to do with me or my sister and brother. We were banished to another part of the house with our nursemaid when he came over and we only rarely saw him. I didn’t understand what his relationship was with my ma until I figured out they weren’t married.”

Ma
seemed like an affectionate name for a mother. Vince had felt affection for his mother, but it was a distant, almost worshipful feeling. More longing than actual love. Father was busy with work, and apparently with his mistress. Mother had her high-society friends, her lavish teas and dress fittings. She’d been kind when she stopped in the
nursery, and he desperately looked for some sign of affection from her. And he’d hated it when Mother cried, feeling like he needed to fix whatever had hurt her. His father had been nearly as lacking from Vince’s life as he’d been from Melissa’s.

Vince had done wild things and earned a certain amount of Father’s attention that way. Angry, punishing attention, yet Vince had preferred it over being ignored. But even misbehavior like running away from school hadn’t interested his mother. When he thought back on her absent-minded kindness, it somehow made sense that she’d forgotten his name.