"Indian? What Indian?" Shaun Randall drummed his fingertips on the desktop while he waited for Randy to answer. The boy looked all done in, his face pale beneath his tan. The clock in the parlor chimed the hour.
"Some buck Kaylee found across the river," Randy replied wearily.
Shaun's eyes narrowed. "When was she across the river?"
"A couple days ago, sir."
"Go on."
Randy shifted from one foot to another. It had been a long walk through a cold rain to get here. His head throbbed from where that thievin' redskin had hit him. Randy grimaced. Snuck up behind him the minute his back was turned. When he regained consciousness, his first thought had been for Kaylee, and he had come straight to the Double R in hopes that she was here. Mrs. Randall had given him a change of clothes, clucking over him like a mother hen. She asked him if he had seen Kaylee while she tended the goose egg on the back of his head, and he hadn't had the courage to tell her what had happened. Instead, he'd made up some story about losing his horse.
And now he stood in front of Shaun Randall's desk, feeling like a kid being reprimanded by the schoolmaster.
"Get on with it," Shaun said brusquely.
"Well, sir, she found this Injun a few days back. He'd been shot. I was all for putting him out of his misery then and there, but Kaylee wouldn't hear of it. She insisted that we take him to that abandoned line shack up on Cedar Ridge."
Shaun placed his hands flat on the desktop and leaned forward. "Why didn't you stop her?"
"I tried, Mr. Randall. Believe me, I tried." He lifted one shoulder and let it fall. "You know Kaylee."
Shaun snorted in derision. "You gonna stand there and tell me you couldn't stop one skinny girl? Go on."
"I was looking after him today so she could go to church. She rode in this afternoon to bring some food. And . . ." Color suffused his face and neck. "The Indian hit me from behind." He lifted a hand to the back of his head. "Damn, feels like my head's broke."
"Ought to be your neck," Shaun said grimly. "Where is Kaylee?"
"I don't know. When I came to, they were both gone. I came here, hoping to find her."
"Well, she's not here, you damn fool." Shaun rounded his desk. "Get out of my way! Emma! Emma, where the hell are you?"
"I'm here." She glanced briefly at Randy as she entered the room. "What's wrong, Shaun?"
"Your daughter's been kidnapped by a damned savage, that's what's wrong!"
"Kidnapped!" Emma shook her head in denial, one hand pressed to her breast.
"Yes, kidnapped!"
Emma turned to face Randy. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Randy shifted uncomfortably. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Randall, but—"
Emma shook her head in disbelief. "How could it have happened? He was badly hurt."
"And just how would you be knowing that?" Shaun asked, his voice deceptively calm.
"Kaylee asked me to take a look at him. He'd been shot."
"And you didn't think it was important enough to tell me?" Shaun asked, his voice rising. "You didn't think I needed to know there was a damned redskin on my land? Being doctored by my womenfolk? Dammit, woman!" He was shouting now. "Why the hell didn't you tell me?"
Emma stared up at her husband, mute. There was no reasoning with him when he was this angry, and she didn't try. Worse, she had nothing to say in the face of Randy's devastating news. She could only stand there, assailed by guilt. She would never forgive herself if anything had happened to Kaylee. She should have told Shaun about the Indian, promise or no promise, but Shaun would probably have gone up to the shack and shot him and then punished Kaylee. But at least Kaylee would be here, at home, where she belonged. Oh, Lord , she prayed, please let my daughter be alive .
Shaun jabbed a finger in Randy's chest. "Get the hell out of here, and don't come back. Ever!"
Randy didn't argue; he just turned and left the room.
"Stupid!" Shaun roared. He paced the floor. "How could she have been so stupid? And you—" He slammed his fist down on the desk, scattering the papers on it.
Emma remained silent, her hands clasped, head slightly bowed, until Shaun's temper ran its course. Only then did she speak. "You'll go after her?"
"Damn right. But he's got a good head start. And trackin' a redskin is never easy. If we're lucky, we'll get up there before the rain washes their tracks out."
"Shaun . . ." Emma pressed her lips together, fighting the urge to cry.
"Don't worry," Shaun said gruffly. His anger seemed to have turned away from her, toward the Indian. "We'll find her, head start or not, and when we do, that dirty redskin will be sorry he was ever born."