As he entered the quiet house, he expelled a frustrated breath, knowing she wasn’t there and that he shouldn’t be wishing she’d show up again. Regardless, he made his way into the kitchen, lit a lantern, and added more fuel to the kitchen stove.
He opened the candy from Clementine and sank his teeth into one of the delicacies. With the coming of evening, he missed his family and their meals in the dining room together. Since he was alone, he’d taken to eating at the bunkhouse with the men. In fact, he didn’t have much food in the house. Just a few staples in the hutch.
His gaze drifted to the shelf, and he paused his chewing. Empty.
What had happened to the coffee beans, molasses, crackers, lard, and flour?
Had Violet and Hyacinth taken the food? What other explanation was there?
Of course, he hadn’t noticed when he’d come into the kitchen earlier in the day, because he’d been too focused on trying to find the women. But now there was no missing the fact that the two had helped themselves to the food.
Why? Because they had a place to go? Somewhere they could cook their own meals?
His mind spun with the implications. Were there any homes in the area that were sitting empty?
The little piece of land with the strawberry farm that Clarabelle Oakley—now Clarabelle Meyer—owned was being rented to Thatcher Hoyt. Thankfully it was only a couple of miles away, because they needed a veterinarian now more than ever before.
There weren’t any vacant homesteads or houses in the area that Sterling knew about. Unless Violet had heard of one that he hadn’t.
“Where did you go, Violet?” he whispered into the silent kitchen as melting snow dripped from his boots and coat.
She wouldn’t have been able to go too far without a way to get around. Unless…
Sterling stalked across the kitchen, out the back door, and made a direct line for the shed. The flakes hit his face, and a cold breeze tried to slither down the collar of his coat. He stopped at the shed, tossed open the door, and peered at the wall where he kept the skis, half a dozen pairs lined up by size.
His pulse leaped. Even in the dim lighting, he could see that two of the spots were empty. Two of the shorter pairs that his sisters had always worn were gone.
Victoria and Hyacinth had taken the food and the skis.
He’d gone skiing with Violet last winter, had taught her how to navigate in the snowy foothills and even how to ride the slopes downhill. In fact, the day he’d proposed to her, they’d skied out to the miner’s cabin…
His thoughts came to a crashing halt. Was that where she’d headed?
It had to be. She knew the way well enough. And it wasn’t too far.
He let his body sag with relief. He’d solved the mystery of her disappearance finally.
A gust of frigid air hit him in the back and nearly knocked his hat from his head. At the same moment, it sent an icy warning through him.
The way to the cabin often became impassable for weeks at a time after particularly heavy snowfalls, which meant Violet and Hyacinth could end up trapped there. Even after some melting, the trails were still difficult for even the most experienced skiers such as himself. If the women had any problems or ran short on fuel or food, they would attempt to leave, which could end up being deadly.
He had to get to them before that happened.
He glanced over his shoulder to the sky and the falling snow. Darkness was creeping upon the ranch, and the snow didn’t show any signs of letting up. If he had any chance of reaching the cabin tonight, he had to leave right away. Doing so would be risky, especially since the wind seemed to be picking up. He might find himself in the middle of a blizzard in the dark and could take a wrong turn, lose his way, get hurt…or worse.
With a shake of his head, he stepped into the shed and reached for his skis. No matter the danger to himself, he was going after the women right away.
7
Violet huddled against Hyacinth in the bottom bunk bed. They’d piled on every blanket they could find and curled up together. However, they were still cold, since they hadn’t been able to start a fire in the stove, and the temperature in the cabin had gotten colder, especially once the storm had blown in, bringing snow and wind.
Violet pinched her eyes closed as if that could somehow make all their problems disappear. But the pain in her swollen and bruised ankle was the constant reminder that their current situation was all too real. The chill in the air was the other reminder of how dangerous their predicament was and that it soon could become life-threatening.
She shuddered, only to have Hyacinth, in front of her, squeeze her arms tighter.
“You’re still awake?” Violet asked.
“I am.” Wearing her coat and layers of clothes and boots, Hyacinth was heavily bundled, just like Violet.
