Susan Amarillas by Scanlin's Law

Author:Scanlin's Law [Law, Scanlin's]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

“He’s here.”

If she’d announced she was about to join a convent, he couldn’t have been any more surprised or disbelieving. “Here? What do you mean, here?”

He scanned the room in one swift motion. Ten by ten, a rumpled, bloodstained bed, a scarred table and a broken kerosene lamp, a well-used camelback trunk behind the door.

“What do you—”

Millie opened the trunk. A wardrobe of gaudy dresses burst out. It was as if she’d opened a can of worms.

“Boy,” she said softly, “you all right?”

Nothing happened. Nothing moved.

Then a small voice said, “Yes.” A second later, an equally small face, dirty and tear-stained, peeked out from the mix of faded satin and frayed lace.

* * *

Rebecca paced the confines of the storeroom. Four steps to the broken door, and four steps to the one Luke had disappeared through.

Luke was out there somewhere, and so, God help her, was her son. Where was he? Why hadn’t he come back? Had he found Andrew? Was he in time?

Not knowing was driving her insane. What ever happened, she had to know. So she stuffed the money into the inside pocket of her skirt. Concealing the gun in the folds of the black velvet riding skirt, she reached for the door and went out into the saloon.

* * *

“Andrew?” Luke said in cautious disbelief.

“Yes, sir” came the polite reply. He didn’t move out of the trunk.

A Christmas-morning grin slashed across Luke’s face. Good Lord, there must really be such things as guardian angels, because someone was sure watching over this boy.

Anger was forgotten, and fear was replaced by elation. “Andrew, are you all right?” Luke dropped down on the bare planks, hard against one knee. He snapped his gun back into the holster. “Are you hurt?”

“No, sir.”

Luke let out the breath he’d been holding. “You can come out now.” The boy was a welcome sight after all the grim visions that had fluttered through Luke’s mind the past twenty-four hours.

Staring into the child’s sable black eyes, eyes that were wide with uncertainty, Luke felt his heart melt. The kid was all right. The feeling of relief wrapped around him like a warm blanket in winter.

Thank you, he said silently, with a quick glance upward.

“Who are you?” the boy inquired, his voice shaky. Luke saw his chin quiver, and smiled when he also saw that the boy was struggling not to cry.

“I’m a friend of your mother.”

At the mention of his mother, a grin flashed across the boy’s face. All charm and dimples, Luke thought. He’d be one to get his way with that smile.

“Will you come here to me, Andrew?” He knew the boy was frightened, and he didn’t want to snatch him up and scare him further. But he had to strain not to, because Becky was down there, and he couldn’t wait to see her, to see the look on her face when he walked in with this miracle in his arms.

“Where’s my mother?” the boy inquired, shifting in the trunk, pushing a red satin dress to one side.

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