Under the Desert Sky (30 page)

“I'm so sorry,” Gwen said.

“What about Wapi?” Phoebe asked. “Did you happen to see if he was one of the birds who escaped?”

“I don't know,” Trinidad said. “When I cut the wires, I didn't look at the birds.”

“Poor Will. If he's lost Wapi . . .” Phoebe shook her head as she looked toward Edwin's gravesite, where the fence was gone.

“Look at the bright side, Phoebe,” Buck said. “You've got over a hundred acres that weren't burned, and thanks to Trinidad, some of your birds did escape, and the best thing of all: none of your buildings are gone.”

“I know.” Phoebe looked down at her burned and blackened dress. “I don't know how to thank you all.” Her lower lip began to quiver.

“You don't have to thank us,” Yhomas said. “Your fire could've just as easily become our fire. If it had gotten out of control, who knows how many acres would be gone. But we took care of it.”

“I wonder how it started,” Christian said.

“It's hard to say. Sometimes a discarded bottle will start one of these things. The sun shining through the glass, the dry grass . . .” Buck shook his head.

“Who's that?” Andy looked toward a galloping horse.

“It's Hannah!” Gwen said. “What's she doing over here?”

“Mama! Mama!” Hannah was calling.

She stopped the horse and Buck grabbed the halter, then helped his daughter down. “What is it, Hannah? What happened?”

“It's Will, Daddy.” Hannah fell against her father's chest.

“Will? Hannah, is he hurt?” Phoebe asked.

“No, ma'am. He's gone.”

“Gone? Where is he?” Phoebe asked, her voice rising.

“Some man came and took him. Will called him Uncle Frank. He cried and cried and said he didn't want to go with that man, but he made him go. I tried to stop him, but he pushed me down and said he was taking his nephew and I couldn't stop him.”

“It's all right, sweetheart.” Phoebe patted the girl on her shoulder. “Will's uncle is a very persuasive man. I know you did all you could to stop him from taking Will, but don't worry, I'll go get him and bring him home.”

“I'm going with you,” Christian said.

•  •  •

By the time Phoebe and Christian got cleaned up, it was nearly dark, and Christian drove Phoebe into town. They went to Frank's house.

Ostentatiously, every window in Frank's house was glowing, his house being the only one on the block to be lit with electricity. Christian pushed a button that rang a bell within the house.

When the door opened, a maid met them; she was not anyone Phoebe had seen before. “Are you expected guests?”

“Probably,” Phoebe said. “Is Mr. Sloan here?”

“May I tell him who is calling?” The maid moved aside, allowing them to step into the entry hall.

“Tell him it's Mrs. Sloan.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

When the woman left, Phoebe reached over to squeeze Christian's hand. She felt a degree of confidence because he was with her.

She was prepared to see Frank, but Myra came to meet them. “Phoebe. This is a surprise. What are you doing here?”

“I've come to get Will.”

“Will? Why on earth do you think he'd be here?” Myra seemed genuinely surprised at the suggestion.

“Because Frank took him.”

“Phoebe, don't be so dramatic. If Will is missing, you know Frank didn't take him—not unless he found him wandering around somewhere.”

“That's not true, Myra. Frank took him.” Phoebe's voice rose. “We had a fire out at the farm today. I'd sent Will to the Prinsens' to be safe, and Frank came to their house and took him.”

“Be reasonable, Phoebe. I know you and Frank have had your differences since Edwin died, but he loves that child.”

“Is he here?”

“You mean Will? Of course not.”

“She means Frank,” Christian said.

“Oh. He's not here either. I expect he's at the bank.”

“We'll go look for Will somewhere else,” Christian said, raising his voice. “Come on, Mama, let's go.”

“Phoebe, if Will is missing, I really am sorry.” Myra took Phoebe's hand. “I know how distraught you must be, but I've not seen him or Frank. If Frank has the boy, he's probably taken him back to your house by now. If I were you, I'd go on home.”

“All I ask is that if Frank does bring him here, you see to it that he brings him home tonight, no matter the time.”

Myra smiled sympathetically. “I promise. If I have to, I'll bring him myself.”

•  •  •

“Do you think she was telling the truth?” Christian asked when he and Phoebe reached the buggy.

“I think so. I picked up on your ruse when you raised your voice and called me ‘Mama.' Had Will been within hearing distance, he would've come running.”

If he wasn't tied up somewhere, Christian thought. “Shall we go by the bank, just to make sure?”

“He won't be there. His father might be, but not Frank.”

Christian drove by the bank anyway. A metal accordion gate was pulled across the door and all the lights were out.

“Should we go by Mr. and Mrs. Sloan's house?” Christian asked.

“No. I'm hoping Myra is right and Frank's taken him home.”

They rode for some time before Christian broke the silence. “It doesn't make sense. First of all, why would Frank take Will, and secondly, how did he know to go to the Prinsens'?”

“He did it to teach me a lesson.”

“Kidnapping is a pretty serious offense just to teach you some kind of lesson. What did you do to deserve this?”

“He wanted something and I wouldn't do it.”

“That bastard.” Christian's thoughts went immediately to the time Phoebe told him Frank had wanted her in his bed. Christian made up his mind that when Will was safely retuned, he'd settle this with Frank Sloan once and for all. That man would never bother her again.

•  •  •

When the buggy pulled up in front of Phoebe's house, Ina Claire came out on the porch, closely followed by Andy.

“Did you find Will?” Ina Claire asked.

“No,” Phoebe said. “Frank didn't bring him here?”

“No.” Ina Claire shook her head.

“What do you want to do, Phoebe?” Christian asked. “Should we go back to town and get the sheriff?”

“Not yet. As ornery as Frank is, I don't think he'll hurt Will. At this point Will is the only grandchild W.F. has, and even though he doesn't act like it, I think that's important to the old man.”

“You have more faith in Frank than I do,” Christian said. “I'd have the sheriff on his doorstep tonight.”

“I'm hoping that when Frank gets there, Myra will make him bring Will home tonight.”

“It's your call, but you know how I feel,” Christian said.

“I do, and I appreciate your being here with me, but I think I know Frank well enough to understand what he's doing.”

“Ina Claire made a bite to eat for you two,” Andy said. “We thought you'd be hungry.”

“Thank you, I guess in all the excitement, I forgot to eat.”

“Well, I didn't forget.” Christian moved up the steps. “What did you make?”

“She made a pot of soup, and is it ever good!” Andy said.

“Does it have any mangel-wurzels?” Christian asked.

“It does, and they're not dried-up little nubs,” Ina Claire said.

“Do you have a clue what they're talking about?” Andy asked.

“Beets,” Christian said. “Ina Claire and I had lots of soup with wizened carrots and dried-up beets but very little else.” He got two bowls and ladled a healthy serving into each one. “Come, Phoebe, sit down with me.”

“Now that you're here, we're going to go on home,” Ina Claire said. “I know everyone's anxious to find out about Will, especially Hannah. She feels so bad about what happened.”

“I know she does, but it wasn't her fault,” Phoebe said. “I can't thank both of you enough for staying here. By the way, where are July and Trinidad?”

“Trinidad is out making sure there aren't any hot spots that could flare up again, and July is trying to round up any stray ostriches. He thinks they can outrun any predator that might chase them, but if they fall into a ravine or even step into a hole in the ground, a bird can break its leg, and—well, we'll just say he'd want to put it out of its misery.”

“My poor birds. They didn't deserve this.”

“Neither did you, Phoebe.” Ina Claire embraced her warmly.

“Thank you, Ina Claire. You've been a big help today, and I can't tell you how much I appreciate it.”

•  •  •

Phoebe could barely eat. Her stomach was churning as she thought about Will. She had to keep telling herself that Frank wouldn't do anything to harm Will, or she'd lose her sanity.

Christian looked up from his meal. “Why don't you go to bed? I know you have to be tired after today. I'll take care of everything here.” He took the bowls to the dishpan.

“I am tired.” She began to rub her neck.

Christian stepped behind her and began kneading her muscles. “You have to hurt—all the beating and the buckets of water. I'm very proud of you.” He leaned down and encircled her chest and gave her a hug.

“Why, Christian, why?”

“I don't know, but tomorrow we're going to find out.”

•  •  •

Phoebe went to sleep immediately upon putting her head on the pillow, but it wasn't a restful sleep and she awakened after about an hour. She lay there willing herself to sleep, but it wouldn't come.

“Frank, why would you do such a thing? Do you hate me so much that you'd take Will away from me?” Tears streamed down her cheeks. She closed her eyes and willed the tears to stop and the knot in her throat to go away. Thinking through it all, Phoebe realized Frank's motivation.

He knew she'd never give in for money, but he'd hit her in her most vulnerable spot. Will. And he'd nearly succeeded. She'd almost signed to secure Will's inheritance, but she couldn't stand to sign away her possibility of a future with Christian. Now Frank was pitting Will against Christian. Whom did she love more?

She loved them both, but if it came down to the safety of her son or marriage to Christian, she'd choose her son. And Frank knew that. He'd won.

She couldn't stay in bed any longer. Part of her wanted to go upstairs and climb into bed with Christian, but she wouldn't. She couldn't—she had to say good-bye to him.

She put on her robe and stepped out onto the porch. As she stood there, the acrid smell of burned vegetation and feathers assailed her nose.

“Can't sleep, huh?”

Phoebe jumped at Christian's voice. “You startled me. I didn't expect to find you out here.”

“I can't sleep either. All I can think about is Will. There's something fishy about this, and I can't figure out why Frank did this.”

Phoebe moved to sit beside him and shivered in the night air.

“Are you cold?” Christian put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer.

It seemed like the most natural thing in the world, and Phoebe put her head on his shoulder. “Poor Will, I wish he was here with us. I know he has to be so scared right now. Do you think he thinks I've abandoned him?”

Christian's first inclination was to say no, that Will knew Phoebe would come for him, but in that instant Christian saw two men dragging him away from his own mother. He had been just about Will's age at the time, and he never saw his mother again.

“Which one is a balloon?” Phoebe asked, breaking the silence.

“What?”

“Didn't you used to look for balloons in the night sky?”

Christian chuckled. “You've been talking to Ina Claire, haven't you?”

“She said you were the best at finding them.”

“Let's find a spot where we can see the open sky. And whoever finds the first balloon gets the first kiss.”

“Is that a game you played with Ina Claire?”

“No. It's new. I've never played it with anyone.”

Christian entered the house and soon returned with a quilt and a blanket. He spread the quilt and sat down, waiting for her to join him. When she did, he wrapped the blanket around her.

“Did she tell you how to do it?” Christian asked.

“She said you had to stare at one particular star for ten minutes and not blink. If it moved, you could prove it was a balloon.”

“There.” Christian pointed. “That has to be a balloon.”

“Ha, even I know that's Venus.”

“That's the first one. The rules say you have to give me a kiss.”

“Who found it? You or me?”

“We'll have to kiss and find out.” Christian kissed her—not a passionate kiss, but a comfortable kiss. “Tomorrow, Phoebe, I swear we'll bring Will home, no matter what it is that Frank is holding against you. If I have to do bodily damage to that son of a bitch, I will find your son.”

“I know you will.” Phoebe lay down on the quilt.

Christian joined her and pulled her close. Soon she was sleeping, drawing long, even breaths.

But sleep wouldn't come for Christian. He was a child kicking and screaming as he was torn from a young woman, a scene that he'd kept at bay for many years. He closed his eyes, and once again he was a scrawny little boy, cowering under the table as he hid from the master. He was coming after him with a strap because Christian had dared to suck his fingers in hopes of getting the last of his gruel.

To this day he couldn't stand oatmeal.

He pulled Phoebe closer to him and finally fell into a fitful sleep, his waking thoughts becoming more vivid as he relived them in his troubled dreams.

The orphanage was a large stone hall with high, inescapable windows where the vermin had free range, and in his nightmare a large rat was coming toward him in his hiding place.