Today was the day. Eugenia turned to view her gown in the cheval mirror. Though the crowd’s attention would be on other things today, she wanted everything to be perfect, including her gown. Today was July 19, the day the depot’s cornerstone would be laid, the day she could cease her charade with Chauncey.
She studied the gown, finding no flaw in Madame Charlotte’s creation. If only she could say the same about Chauncey. She’d tried to give him a second chance. She’d tried not to think about the poor woman on Fifteenth Street, but what Eugenia had seen that day had made her both cautious and observant.
In the weeks since then, she’d seen the disdain with which Chauncey regarded the construction workers at the depot. She’d noticed the way he picked up the china shepherdess that had been one of Mama’s prized possessions as if he were evaluating how much Papa had paid for it. She’d heard the condescension in his voice when he spoke of her photographs. All that had combined to confirm her decision. She could not marry Chauncey. Eugenia knew that as clearly as she knew that today was a beautiful Monday in July, a day when sunshine had replaced the overnight rain.
She would tell Papa of her decision tonight before the celebratory dinner at the Cheyenne Club, and then she would muster every ounce of courage she possessed to ask Mason if he remembered the kiss they’d shared.
Today was the day. Mason swirled the brush in his shaving cup then stroked the foam onto his cheeks. Today was the day the Wyoming Lodge of Masons would preside over the ceremony. Eugenia would take photos as they anointed the stone with wine, oil, and corn. They’d all listen to a few speeches. Everyone would applaud. And when it was over, he would find a way to speak to Erastus in private.
Mason picked up his razor and wielded it with his usual precision. It took control not to nick his skin, but that was nothing compared to the self-control he’d had to exert to pretend that Eugenia was nothing more than a friend. The pretense had grown even more difficult when he’d taken Jeremy’s advice to study her expression when she was with Chauncey. That had left no doubt: Eugenia was not happy.
Mason could see the shadows behind her smile. What worried him even more was that he also glimpsed something darker, almost as if she feared Chauncey. While that seemed unlikely, Mason could not dismiss his concerns. He wanted to be the man who put the sparkle back in Eugenia’s eyes, the man who made her feel safe and cherished.
By nightfall he would know if he had the right to do that, but first they had a ceremony to attend.
“I can feel the excitement.” Eugenia smiled as she looked at the crowd that had already started to gather for the placement of the cornerstone. Though she and Mason had arrived a full hour before the ceremony was scheduled to begin, they were far from the first.
“You sound surprised.”
“I guess I am. I knew Papa was anxious to reach this stage, but I hadn’t realized how many other people in Cheyenne would feel the same way.”
Mason surveyed the ever-growing crowd and made a few notes on his pad. “It’s an important event, especially for a city that owes its existence to the railroad.” He nodded, acknowledging the greeting of one of the workers. “I think the UP was wise to choose today for the ceremony. Laying the cornerstone on the same date that the city was originally surveyed sends a strong message about the railroad being a part of the city.”
“And it will be an impressive as well as an important building.”
Mason gave her a mischievous grin. “Is that why you’re dressed to match it?”
Eugenia’s smile matched his as pleasure that he’d cared enough to comment flowed through her. “I’m surprised you noticed.”
“I notice everything about you.”
As a blush colored her cheeks, Eugenia realized that for the first time in far too long, he sounded like the old Mason, the man he’d been before he moved to the boardinghouse. Oh, how she’d missed that man!
“I gave Madame Charlotte a chip of the red sandstone and asked her to try to match it,” she explained. Cheyenne’s premier dressmaker had surpassed Eugenia’s expectations.
“It appears that she succeeded. You look very fetching in your new gown, Miss Bell.”
Her smile broadening until she wondered if her cheeks would split, Eugenia nodded. This was the old Mason, the one who used to tease her with mock formality.
“Why, thank you, Mr. Farling,” she replied, copying his tone. “You look mighty fine today, too.”
Mason chuckled, his expression sobering a second later. “I see Barrett Landry. Your father asked me to interview him today. He thinks Barrett may become one of Wyoming’s first senators once we achieve statehood.”
Eugenia liked the way Mason said we as if he were planning to remain in Cheyenne. That would be good. So very good. Though she was tempted to ask if that was indeed his intention, she restrained herself. She would say nothing personal until she’d spoken to Papa. Instead, she nodded at Mason. “You’d better catch Barrett while he’s alone.”
When Mason headed toward the cattle baron who might or might not become a senator, Eugenia moved into the cordoned-off area. This was where the dignitaries would stand once they’d completed their ceremonial parade into the depot site. This was where the enormous stone would be wheeled into place. But before that happened, Eugenia wanted to take several photographs of the foundation without the cornerstone.
She was so caught up in composing the picture that she didn’t hear the footsteps behind her. Before Eugenia knew what was happening, she was on the ground, knocked there by an unseen figure who grabbed her camera.
“Stop!” She scrambled to her feet, her eyes widening as she shouted at the boy who was running away from her. He was moving more slowly than she would have expected, and he kept glancing over his shoulder as if checking on her.
“Stop!” But the boy did not. A quick glance told Eugenia no one was close enough to help her. If she wanted her camera—and she did—she’d have to catch him herself. Thankful that Madame Charlotte had made this gown with a slightly wider than normal skirt, Eugenia raced after the thief, following him behind the old depot building.
With no trains due until after the cornerstone ceremony, the platform was empty. But there, sitting on the step to the depot itself was the boy who’d taken her camera. She guessed him to be no more than ten or twelve years old, with threadbare clothing that made her assume he would try to sell the camera. On another day she might have felt pity for him. Right now all she felt was anger.
“Give it back!” she demanded as she approached him.
The boy simply shook his head. Eugenia took another step toward him, then cried out when a man grabbed her from behind, tugging a burlap bag over her head. In the instant that the world became dark, Eugenia knew the boy had been nothing more than a decoy.
“No!” she shrieked, kicking with all her might. But the man who’d caught her had the advantage of sight, and he dodged her feet.
“Why are you doing this?”
There was no answer. Wrenching her arms behind her, the man quickly tied them, then tossed Eugenia over his shoulder as if she were nothing more than a sack of feed. Seconds later, he dumped her into the back of a wagon. Though Eugenia kicked, it was to no avail. The man grabbed her feet and tied her ankles.
She was at the kidnapper’s mercy.
Where was she? While he’d been interviewing Barrett Landry, Mason had seen Eugenia enter the restricted area, but now there was no sign of the woman he loved. Where was she? His eyes searched the crowd, but he saw no beautiful auburn-haired woman dressed in red sandstone–colored silk. Where was she?
A prickle of alarm snaked its way down Mason’s spine. She might have gone inside the hotel, but that wasn’t like Eugenia. And yet it was even less like her to have simply disappeared.
Practically sprinting, he made his way to the side of the construction site where he’d last seen Eugenia.
“Did any of you notice a woman in a dress the same color as the stone?” He addressed the small group of onlookers who had chosen to watch the ceremony from this part of the site.
A tall, thin man shook his head. “Sorry. I just arrived.” The others’ responses were similar. Mason was about to give up and look elsewhere when a petite woman with what appeared to be twin boys clinging to her hands nodded.
“I saw a lady like that about five minutes ago,” she told Mason. “She was chasing a boy. They went behind the old depot building.”
At last, a clue! Mason thanked the woman profusely then raced toward the wooden depot, his heart pounding with fear. There was no sign of Eugenia, no sign of anyone other than a boy who sat on the steps, fiddling with something. As Mason strode towardhim, he saw that the object the boy held was Eugenia’s camera.
“How did you get that camera?” he demanded. When the boy jumped to his feet and looked as if he planned to flee, Mason grabbed his arm.
“I found it.” The boy’s sullen reply did nothing to convince Mason. Eugenia would never have abandoned her camera. If she had chased the boy here, it was because he’d taken it.
“I know you stole it,” Mason said, his voice filled with anger. The camera didn’t matter. All that mattered was Eugenia. “I also know the woman who owned it came after you. Where is she now?”
The boy shook his head. “I don’t know.”
Mason had no doubt the boy knew more than he was admitting. “You can tell me, or you can tell the sheriff. I don’t imagine he’ll be too easy on you. Let’s start with why you took the camera.” The way the boy had been handling it, as if he had no idea what to do with it, told Mason there was more to this than a simple theft.
The boy shook his head again.
“All right. We’ll talk to the sheriff.” Mason started walking toward the construction site, propelling the boy with him.
“Okay. Okay.” The boy planted his feet and stared up at Mason. “A man gave me some money to take it.” He pulled a few coins from his pocket and showed them to Mason. Though a mere pittance to Mason, they probably seemed like a fortune to the boy.
“He said I could keep the camera. All he wanted was the lady. He tied her up and put her in a wagon.”
Anger and fear warred within Mason. Anger that someone had lured Eugenia here, fear over what the man intended. One thing was certain. There was no time to lose.
“Where did they go?”
The boy pointed toward the west. “Be careful, mister. He’s a mean man.”
And that mean man had Eugenia.