The Doctor's Newfound Family (8 page)

“You really are scared, aren’t you?”

King shrugged and seemed to relax. “Yes and no. The Good Book says we have a certain amount of time allotted. I just don’t want to waste mine recovering from a beating. Or worse.” He pulled his top hat from a hall tree, donned it and joined Taylor. “Let’s go see this girl and settle the problem of her lost brother.”

“You’re sure you want to come? Don’t you have work to do here?”

“It will wait. I have today’s paper printing in the basement and nothing pressing at the moment.” He smiled. “Besides, if Miss Reese wants to, she can tell me her story in person as we search for the boy.”

“All right. But you have to promise you won’t print her name the way you did the last time.”

“I have to prove my allegations,” the editor
argued. “The whole story revolves around her family.”

“I know.” He led the way down the stairs. “Just be as discreet as you can.”

“I am always the soul of discretion, dear boy.” King was grinning as he stepped out into the waning sunshine. “Now, where is this young woman with the fantastic story?”

Taylor swiveled right and left. There were plenty of folks jamming the street and boardwalk but there was no sign of Sara Beth Reese. Nor of Luke.

“I left her right here. I swear it.” Shading his eyes, he peered into the distance, hoping against hope that he would spot her yellow gingham skirt among the plethora of springlike colors adorning other women.

There was a flash of brightness here and there but nothing definitive enough to spur him to action. Taylor’s heart lodged in his throat. She had promised she’d stay put. Only one thing might have drawn her away—the sight of her brother.

Which way? Dear God, where?

Frantic, he grabbed James King’s arm. “Her hair is reddish and her eyes are green. The boy’s, too, I assume. We left in a hurry so she wasn’t wearing her bonnet or shawl.”

“All right,” the older man said. “Calm down.
We’ll find her. Don’t worry. It’s me the villains are after, not Miss Reese.”

Taylor’s eyes met his as he said soberly, “I sure hope you’re right.”

Chapter Eight

S
ara Beth was breathless, frightened beyond belief. Not only had she spied Luke, she had seen that he was being held by the wrist and dragged along the opposite side of the street. The boy was struggling to get free, as she would have expected, but he and the surly-looking man who had hold of him were being summarily ignored by the passing gentry. Only the hooligans seemed to be taking notice and all they did was cheer the man’s efforts to control the unruly child.

She started to call out, then changed her mind. If she didn’t alert anyone to her presence she’d have a better chance of overtaking Luke unobserved. At least she hoped so. What action she might take when she did face her brother’s captor was another matter.

Empty-handed and defenseless, she knew she
had only her wits on which to rely. “Such as they are,” she murmured, disgusted at herself for leaving the orphanage without so much as her reticule. What on earth was she going to do?

That didn’t matter. All that counted was getting her brother back. Lifting her skirts to keep them out of the foul mud as she crossed the street, she began to zigzag around wagons and horses. Luke must not get away again. She would not allow it.

Please, God, please
, she whispered to herself.
Help me.

The closest freight wagon stopped, blocking her path. Sara Beth deftly dodged around the rear of it, barely escaping being run down by a buggy and team headed in the opposite direction. That driver shook his fist and cursed at her. She ignored him. Every effort was focused on Luke and the burly, filthy man who was still holding him hostage.

Closer. She was drawing closer. Just twenty yards more and she’d be able to lay hands on the boy, to wrest him from his captor.

Panicky and frantic, she gasped as a painful stitch in her side nearly doubled her over. She didn’t think she had cried out until she saw the man pause, wheel back and stare at her.

Luke spotted her at the same time. “Sara Beth! Help!”

“Let my brother go,” she demanded loudly.

The surly, middle-aged man merely chortled and spit into the street.

Sara Beth resorted to the only weapon she had—her voice. Screaming, “Kidnapper!” at the top of her lungs, she screeched so loudly that every person within earshot stopped and stared. “He’s kidnapping my brother,” she yelled, pointing. “Stop him! Somebody help us. Please.”

No one stepped forward. In the intervening seconds of indecisiveness, however, Luke managed to break free. Weeping and wailing, he dashed to Sara Beth and fell into her arms.

She embraced him tightly. When she looked up, expecting an attack, the man had melted into the crowd and disappeared.

Suddenly, all the strength and resolve that had sustained her during her wild pursuit was gone. In its place was overwhelming fatigue. And tears of gratitude.

Cupping Luke’s cheeks, she raised his face to hers. “What happened, honey? Tell me.”

“He—he just grabbed me for no reason,” the boy stuttered.

“Are you sure that was all there was to it?”

“I’m sure,” Luke insisted.

“All right.” She dashed away her tears and took
his hand. “Come on. We have to get back to the newspaper office. Dr. Hayward will be looking for us.”

To her surprise, Luke dragged his feet. “No. I don’t wanna go back there.”

“Why? Is that where you were taken from?”

He nodded, sniffling. “I—I was just going in the door when somebody grabbed me.”

“All right. We’ll stand across the street and watch the office from there. We can call to the doctor when he comes out.”

“By the mercantile?” Luke asked, his tears all but forgotten.

The quick change in his mood was off-putting. “Yes. Why?”

“’Cause I want some candy.”

“I already told you, I don’t have any money.”

“That’s okay,” the boy said, reaching into his pocket and fisting a coin. “I do.”

Sara Beth drew him to a bench along the walkway and forcibly sat him down. Leaning over so she could stare into his face, she asked, “Where did you get money?”

“I found it.”

“Luke, no lies. I want the truth. Who gave you that coin?”

When no answer was forthcoming, she guessed
and saw the truth revealed in her brother’s guilty expression. “That bad man gave it to you, didn’t he?”

“No. No, I found it on the street.”

“What did he want you to do for the money?”

“Just go with him. But I changed my mind. You saw.”

A disquieting thought suddenly occurred to her. “Where is my letter, Luke?”

The boy looked away, refusing to meet her inquiring gaze. “I dunno. Maybe I lost it.”

“Or you
sold
it,” she said, her heart racing and her thoughts awhirl. “That’s what really happened, isn’t it? Oh, Luke, how could you
do
that?”

“It was just an old letter. Who cares? You can write another one.”

“I have never understood the scripture ‘Spare the rod and spoil the child’ until now,” Sara Beth said. “If Papa Robert were here he’d whale you good.” She gritted her teeth. “And you’d deserve every lick of it.”

“You can’t spank me,” Luke said defiantly.

“I could, but I won’t,” she replied. “The damage is already done. If that letter falls into the wrong hands, all of us may be in terrible trouble.”

“You can’t scare me. I ain’t scared of nothing.”

“Of anything,” she corrected. “You looked pretty frightened to me when that ugly man was hauling you down the street.”

“I wasn’t scared. Not really.”

She shook her head in resignation as she plopped down on the bench beside the boy and sighed. “You may not be afraid, little brother, but personally, I’m terrified.”

 

By the time Taylor spotted Sara Beth and Luke, his patience was more than worn thin, it was nonexistent.

“Where were you?” he demanded before he noticed the tears in her eyes and the distress in her expression.

Instead of answering him she stood, slipped her arms around his waist and stepped into his embrace, totally banishing his righteous anger. Taylor felt her shaking with silent sobs and his heart melted.

He gently patted her upper back through the fabric of her dress. “Take it easy. You’re safe now. And I see you found Luke all by yourself.”

All she did was nod against his shoulder.

“Then everything is fine, right?”

“No,” Sara Beth answered. “It’s awful. Luke sold my letter to some stranger.”

“What?” Furious, he glared down at the cowering boy. “Who? Who did he sell it to and why?”

“For money, of course.” She recovered her composure and stepped away far enough for Taylor to
see her face. “The man wasn’t satisfied, though. He tried to kidnap Luke, too.”

“So that was where you went. I figured it had to be really important to make you break your promise to wait for me.” He stared into her emerald gaze. “Do you have any idea how worried I was?”

“Yes. And I’m sorry. I just saw them for an instant and I was afraid if I waited for you to come back it would be too late. Luke would be gone for good.”

“That’s probably true. What did the man look like?”

Sara Beth shrugged. “Like every dock worker around here. He was big and burly and dirty. And when he leered at me I think I saw some of his front teeth missing, although I can’t be positive. I was more concerned about getting him to release Luke.”

“Of course. Other details may come to you later, after you’ve rested and had a chance to think calmly.”

With a hand at her back, he gently guided her toward the newspaper office, noting that all he’d had to do was cast one threatening glance at the boy and he’d fallen into line behind them. At this point, that derogatory letter could be in anyone’s hands. The thief was likely one of Bein’s henchmen, which
was all the more reason to worry, Taylor told himself.

“I want you to come back to the
Bulletin
with me and speak to James King. He was helping me search for you and went back inside when I spotted you. These streets have become dangerous for him since he printed your first letter. You can tell him the rest of the story and let him decide how best to proceed. Will you do that?”

Sara Beth nodded. “Yes. Of course. We should also inform Mrs. McNeil of where we are. She’s bound to miss us and worry, too.”

“I’ll send a runner.” He frowned at Luke. “A trustworthy one this time.”

“He’s been through a lot in the past week,” said Sara Beth. “I should have explained how important the letter was to us all.”

“No,” Taylor countered. “He should have done as he was told and not allowed himself to be bribed.”

“I just wanted some candy,” Luke grumbled. “Mama always bought me candy when we went for a walk.”

At that, the child’s voice broke and Taylor’s heart softened toward him. Even adults made mistakes and at only eleven, the boy had little practical experience on which to draw. He’d learn. He was
probably already a lot wiser than he’d been an hour ago.

The question that continued to vex the doctor was who had sent the kidnapper for Luke? Who now possessed Sara Beth’s letter, and what might he do after he had read it?

That unspoken question sent a shiver zinging up his spine and prickled the hair on the back of his neck.

 

Sara Beth perched on the edge of one of the captain’s chairs in King’s office, her fingers laced together in her lap, her spine stiff. The editor cut an imposing figure with his dark hair and eyes and the beard and mustache that outlined his thin mouth. He had been staring at her and Luke for what seemed like an eternity before he nodded, apparently in agreement with all she and the doctor had revealed.

“I believe I may have discovered a connection between your nemesis and mine,” King said. “Casey has been seen in the company of William Bein, not to mention Sheriff Scannell. They make strange bedfellows.”

“Agreed,” Taylor said, pacing the small office. “The question is, what can any of us do about it?”

“First things first.” King smiled over at Sara Beth. “Miss Reese’s story will appear next week,
without any mention of this interview, although I imagine that whoever was behind the attempted abduction of her brother is probably having this office watched day and night.”

“Then they know I’m here.” She took a shaky breath.

“Undoubtedly. If they didn’t see you enter this time, they have your letter, at the very least. That is unfortunate.” Glaring at Luke, King nevertheless refrained from verbal chastisement.

She was not so inclined. “My brother understands that what he did was very wrong. He will not make a similar mistake in the future. What I wonder is how there can be a connection between William Bein and this Mr. Casey? They travel in totally different social circles, don’t they?”

Taylor nodded and spoke up. “Yes and no. Both are deeply involved in the politics of the city and both have a monetary stake in how it is run. That alone would make them allies.”

“And I have the two of you,” she said, standing and beginning to smile. “I would not trade either of you for the whole gang of those horrid men.” She offered her hand to the editor and he shook it briefly.

“I plan to live up to your high opinion of me,” King said with a slight bow. “And I know Dr. Hayward feels likewise.”

Sara Beth didn’t have to look over her shoulder to know that Taylor had stepped closer and was now directly behind her. She could feel his presence the same way she felt the rays of the summer sun or the radiant warmth of a hearth in the winter. It was an awareness she had not sought, yet she craved its comfort and the unspoken support she felt every time he drew near.

“We should be getting back to the orphanage,” Taylor said softly. “It will be dark soon.”

She turned and gave him a most thankful look. “Are you offering Lucas and me a ride in your wonderful buggy?”

“It will be my pleasure.” He squared his hat on his head and crooked his arm. “Shall we go?”

Slipping her small hand through the bend of his elbow, Sara Beth felt as if she were being escorted to a fancy dress ball on the arm of a true prince, just like the story of Cinderella. Taylor Hayward was that, and more, to her. If he had not come along and taken such a personal interest in her cause, she didn’t know what she would have done. How she would have coped.

Oh, there was Ella McNeil and the other women who supported the work of the Ladies’ Protection and Relief Society. But those dear ladies had homes and families of their own to worry about. They
could not, should not, be asked to cope with the serious problems that the surviving Reeses were facing. That was a job for the honest men of San Francisco, assuming Mr. King could find any who would stand with him.

Sara Beth knew her cynicism was misplaced. She had listened to enough of her parents’ conversations to be certain that there was an underground element ready to insist upon justice. If and when the right time came, they would band together and act on the side of right, no matter what corrupt government officials said. She didn’t look forward to vigilante justice but if that was the only kind offered, she would accept it.

Making her way to the waiting buggy, she held tight to Taylor’s arm and scanned the crowd that thronged the street and nearby business establishments. Somewhere in that multitude was the man who had tried to steal her brother, and surely he hadn’t acted alone. Were they connected to William Bein? Or was that too simplistic a notion?

Shivering in spite of the balmy evening, Sara Beth stumbled and had to lean on the doctor’s arm to keep her balance.

He laid his hand over hers where she had grasped his arm. “Are you all right?”

“No,” she said honestly, fighting the tears that
brimmed and threatened to slide down her cheeks. “I am far from all right. I feel scared and lost and nearly at the end of my endurance.”

“Little wonder.”

She saw the doctor cast a disparaging glance at Luke as the boy clambered into the buggy ahead of her and took a seat on the floor, legs crossed.

“It’s not just because of what my brother did,” she insisted, letting her protector assist her in climbing aboard. “It’s everything. I feel as if there are villains lurking everywhere, ready to pounce. It’s very disconcerting.”

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