Magnificent Passage (19 page)

“Well . . . Travis Langley. How long has it been? A year? Two?” Brigham Young, an imposing, mutton-chopped, graybearded figure stood in the parlor of his two-story woodframe house. At sixty-seven, Young remained a virile, well-spoken man of integrity and authority.

Brigham offered his hand, and Hawk grasped it firmly.

“Been a while, Brigham.”

“I appreciate your taking the time to stop by. My man at the Salt Lake House informed me you were in town.” He smiled, straightening his somberly cut black suit. “Not much goes on around here I don't get wind of. Man like you, word travels even faster. What brings you to our fair city?”

“I'm on an assignment.” Hawk smiled as he thought of Julia. “Seems Governor Ashton was about to lose something he was partial to—”

“Like his daughter?” Brigham interrupted.

Hawk frowned. “News really does travel fast around here. Yes, sir. Like his daughter. But I'd appreciate it if you'd forget that, sir. Wouldn't do the pretty lady's reputation any good if folks found out she was traveling with us.”

“Can't say I approve of her traveling without a chaperone, but I guess her father knows best.”

“You might be better off worrying about the two of us.” Hawk grinned broadly. “Miss Ashton seems more than capable of taking care of herself.”

Brigham nodded. “I think I can understand that. When you have as many wives as I do, you grow rapidly to learn how capable the ‘weaker sex' really is!” Both men laughed heartily.

“But enough of this small talk.” Brigham motioned for Hawk to follow him into his study and pointed toward an overstuffed chair. Hawk seated himself as the thickset man called to one of his many wives. “Mary, bring Mr. Langley some refreshment. He and I have a few things to discuss.”

The conversation grew serious as each spoke of what was going on in his particular part of the country. Hawk was interested
in the progress of the railroad, scheduled to connect both sides of the continent sometime in the spring. The Union Pacific and the Central Pacific were pushing across the country at a breakneck pace, and it appeared as though they'd meet somewhere in the Utah Territory.

Brigham wanted to know about the Indian problems—something that affected him and his pilgrims time and time again. The conversation continued for well over an hour.

“Well, Travis,” Brigham said, clapping him on the back as they headed to the door. “Express my regards to the governor.”

“I'll be happy to, sir.”

“And take good care of your . . . assignment.”

Hawk smiled. “You can count on that, sir.”

Mandy tried to force herself to rest, but the anticipation of an evening out was just too much. Finally conceding defeat, she changed into snowy-white lace and embroidered undergarments, and slipped into the beautiful bright yellow muslin. She ran her fingers across the soft clean fabric and twirled in front of the mirror, her petticoats rustling with the movement. Digging through the box, she discovered a pair of matching yellow ribbons, so she braided her freshly washed hair and plaited it gaily with the ribbons. How deliriously feminine she felt.

As she finished securing the second thick braid across the top of her head, a commotion outside her door caught her attention. She paused for a moment, wondering if Hawk might have returned early. When she stepped toward the locked door, the latch splintered and four men exploded
into the room. Mandy jumped back, a small scream caught in her throat. Her heart pounded as fear pumped through her veins. The men reeked of whiskey and stale tobacco and leered at her drunkenly.

She fought to regain her composure. Some of her fear receded, replaced by fury at their intrusion.

“What do you think you are doing in here?” she stormed. “Get out this minute!”

“Simmer down, little lady, and you might not get hurt,” said a stocky man with a patch over one eye.

She thought quickly and decided to play for time. “Don't you dare threaten me. I'll have you arrested. Leave immediately!” Hoping her bravado had momentarily distracted them, she bolted for the door.

A calloused hand clamped over her mouth, muffling her cry, and her feet were lifted from the floor. Kicking and squirming she tried to free herself, but the arms that held her only clamped tighter. Mandy's terror mounted with each passing moment. Trying a new tactic, she sank her teeth into the man's sweaty palm and twisted against his strong grip.

“Ouch! Why, you little wildcat! I oughta . . . ” The stocky man balled his hairy hand into a fist and struck a hard blow to her jaw. The room spun briefly, then inky blackness engulfed her.

“Wrap her in that blanket and take her down the back stairs,” Gutterman instructed. “Throw her over my horse, I'll be right behind you. Jus' wanna make sure no one follows us.”

Jake Wiley did as he was told. Pete followed next, then the Mex.

“What the devil's? . . .” James came up the main staircase just in time to see a stranger emerge from Julia's room and head toward the rear staircase. He flattened himself against the wall, pulled his revolver, and inched quietly along. Shoving the door open with a booted foot, he glanced around the room. A pulse throbbed at his temple.
Where was the girl
? Cautiously he eased farther into the room.

Gutterman held his breath. Waiting behind the door for the gambler to enter, he didn't move a muscle. As Long took another step, Max slipped silently behind him and smashed the barrel of his gun across the man's skull. Long slumped to the floor.

Max smiled crookedly. “'Bout time we met up again, gambler.” Cocking the hammer on the heavy revolver, he pointed the weapon at Long's unconscious body. Then voices in the next room carried softly through the walls, reminding him of the danger.

He cursed his luck. Instead of pulling the trigger, he kicked the man squarely in the ribs, holstered his gun, and stepped out into the hall.
It was probably just as well. The gambler might come in handy
. Long could make sure their demands reached the governor when the time came.

Gutterman closed the door softly behind him. “That's twice you've been lucky, gambler,” he mumbled beneath his breath. “Next time, I promise your luck will run out.”

S
ounds of drunken laughter and coarse male voices mingled behind the blurred glow of a campfire. Mandy touched the bruise on her jaw and began to take stock of her surroundings. Even through the darkness she could tell the country was rugged. They were somewhere in the mountains. Tall pines and the chill in the air told her they were at a fairly high elevation. The men had covered a lot of ground in the last few hours.

Her yellow dress was torn and dirty and every part of her body ached. Though her right hand was free, her left was bound securely with a rope surrounding the thick girth of a tree.
What could they possibly want with her
?

Then by catching brief snatches of conversation, Mandy realized they thought she was Julia Ashton, the governor's daughter.
They meant to hold her for ransom!
She felt the sting of tears, but refused to cry. She had to be strong. Hawk and James would find her. Besides, the men probably meant her no harm as long as they were paid the ransom money. Inching closer to the tree, she tried to make herself as inconspicuous as possible. All she had to do was wait.

A thousand hammers split his skull. “Ughhhh!” James moaned as Hawk laid a damp cloth over the angry, egg-sized lump at the back of his head.

“We haven't got time for this.” James tried unsuccessfully to distract Hawk from the task. “We've got to find Julia!” Half rising from the bed, he felt a wave of nausea. Bright colored spots danced in front of his eyes.

“You're not going anywhere,” Hawk told him flatly. “Looks like you've got a concussion. You'll be out of commission for at least a couple of days. The doc's on his way up. Don't you worry about a thing. I'll find the girl.” A muscle bunched in his jaw, then he continued. “Our best chance is for me to go after her alone. They won't be expecting that.”

James listened as his friend laid out his strategy.

“If I'm not back in three days, go to Brigham. Get a military escort if necessary.” Hawk's expression seemed carefully guarded.

“Hawk, I . . . I'm sorry. Looks like I let you down again.”

“You did your best. Now just stay quiet. Try to get some rest. I'll bring her back.”

James felt a gentle hand on his shoulder just before Hawk strode from the room.

Walking to his horse, Hawk again thought of the task at hand. Cold hard anger worked the muscles in his jaw. He'd find the girl, all right. He just hoped he wouldn't be too late. He felt a flash of white-hot rage. If they harmed one strand of her shining hair, left one bruise on her flawless skin . . .

The smell of bacon and beans filled the air, reminding Mandy she hadn't eaten since breakfast.

“Better take this, girl,” the one called Pete said, handing her a tin plate. “I think the boss has plans for you after supper. Wouldn't want you to lose your strength and take all the fun outa it, now, would we?” His laugh revealed a gaping hole in yellowed teeth where one front tooth was missing.

“What do you mean, ‘plans for me'?” Mandy asked. She didn't like the look in the man's dark eyes.

“You'll find out soon enough, little missy,” he replied. A lecherous smile curved his lips.

Leaving the plate, he shuffled back toward the fire.

Mandy tugged at the rope binding her wrist, but the knot was behind the tree, well out of her reach. What could the man have meant? Surely no one would dare harm a governor's daughter. But doubts and an icy dread crept into her mind. Please God, she prayed, let them find me soon.