Free Deadly Is the Night by Dusty Richards Page B

never minded our hard life. She really dressed up my house. Nothing like this one though.”
    â€œWhere did she come from?”
    â€œTexas.”
    â€œHow did she get here?”
    â€œShe was the second oldest of eleven kids. They came there by wagon. Her paw wanted to raise cotton. He rented a farm by me. I courted her and she accepted my proposal. We got married in the Good Will Church.
    â€œThat deputy said she just run away. Said that women did it all the time. Marcella would never run away. I swear she’d never do that.”
    â€œWhere were you when they kidnapped her?”
    â€œI went to buy some barley at Hayden’s Mill for my hawgs. That trip took me all day to go and come back with my wagon loaded. When I got home Marcella was gone. There were three horses’ tracks in my yard and around the house. My neighbors heard her scream but never saw them when they did it. I trailed them east for a while but lost them in the dark.”
    â€œWhy would they kidnap her?”
    â€œI don’t know.” He shook his head. “Marcella was real pretty.”
    â€œShe not have any jewelry or money?”
    â€œNo. I am a hawg farmer. How could I have any money for that?”
    â€œCould you have anything worthwhile they might have wanted?”
    â€œNothing but her. Nothing is missing that I could see.”
    â€œMy man and I will be there in a few days. I need to close up some business here first. I can’t promise you anything, but we will investigate and do all we can to find her.”
    â€œThank you, sir. I will ride home and wait for you.”
    â€œNo. When you finish this food, you won’t leave yet. My foreman, Raphael, will find you a bed and you are to get some rest. In the morning, he will see you are fed, have a sound horse to ride, and have food to supplement your ride home.”
    â€œI didn’t come for charity. I just want her back.” He looked close to crying. “I am grateful, sir.”
    â€œHarry, I want you to know we might never find any trace of her. The trail is cold by now and their purpose unknown. But we will look.”
    Harry Olson rode a ranch horse for home the next day. Chet hoped he didn’t freeze to death going back. He and Jesus would be there in two more days. Looking at a cold, cold trail. That would be all he could think about. They’d try . . .

C HAPTER 6
    He and Jesus took the Black Canyon Stage to Hayden’s Mill. The driver unloaded their saddles, rifles, and bedrolls on the ground. Jesus went to rent them horses. A cold north wind with sand bits on the drafts stung Chet’s cheeks while he stood there guarding their gear pooled on the ground.
    The agent holding on to his celluloid visor came out and told him bring their things inside.
    â€œI am sorry, Mr. Byrnes. I hate he dumped your things out there. You’re one of our best customers. I’ll help you get your things into the depot inside.” Soon all their stuff was inside. It took Jesus twenty more minutes to arrive with the horses he rented. He complained, “They aren’t much.”
    They saddled them and took to the road. Late afternoon they found Olson’s hog farm.
    â€œI knew we were close.” Jesus wrinkled his nose.
    Smoke ascended from the tin chimney of a sheet iron–covered small dwelling. Harry welcomed them in, and Chet could hardly believe what he saw. The interior was all very clean and neat, freshly painted with bright curtains. Those must be her marks on the place.
    Olson looked as shabby as he did in Preskitt.
    â€œHave you learned anything?”
    â€œNot a thing.”
    â€œTomorrow I want to ride east. Meanwhile Jesus will talk to the Hispanic neighbors. Maybe he can learn something. I will need a picture of her.”
    â€œThere is one we had made.”
    â€œI won’t lose it.”
    â€œIt will be all I have of her.”
    He brought the small-framed picture out wrapped in a