“I don’t understand.” Merrick stood in the middle of the room, still in his blacksmith’s apron and his eyes wild.
Someone took him. The words were on her lips but Eleanor couldn’t bring herself to say them. It was too awful, too impossible to contemplate.
But it was the only possible explanation.
He ran a hand through his dark hair, which stuck up straight when he dropped his hand. “Tell me again.”
“He was asleep in the cradle. I went out to get some water for supper and found the linens were dry. I pulled them from the line and when I went back inside, he . . . he . . .” She wrapped her arms around herself. Terror edged in, making it hard to breathe, and she began to shake.
Merrick came to her immediately and took her into his arms. “Sit. Maybe Clara came by and saw he was fussy and took him for a stroll.”
Eleanor nodded as he led her to one of the kitchen chairs. It was a feeble explanation, and he had to know it. Clara wouldn’t have done such a thing without telling Eleanor first.
“I’m going next door to— to see if he’s there,” Merrick said, his hands on her arms. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
Eleanor nodded mutely. But the second he let go, she began shaking again. He was going for help. The second he shut the door, she leapt up again. She couldn’t just sit there, doing nothing. Instead, she scoured the house again, looking under the bed, behind the broom propped against the wall, anywhere and everywhere she could think.
Then she went outside and walked around and around the house. It was futile. Davy couldn’t turn himself over yet, much less crawl out the door. But she had to dosomething.
“Eleanor!” Clara was running across the still-brown grass between her home and theirs. For half a second, Eleanor thought Clara held Davy in her arms, but it was Thea. Because of course Clara wouldn’t leave her daughter alone in her house.
Why, oh why, had Eleanor done just that?
“I’ve searched everywhere,” Eleanor said as Clara reached out a hand to take her arm. “Why did I leave him? I should have waited until Merrick came back to get that water. I should have left the linens. I should have woken him up and taken him out with me—”
“Eleanor, stop.” Clara’s voice was stern, and the baby fussed in her arms at the sudden raise in her mother’s voice. “You didnothingwrong. Do you hear me?”
Eleanor nodded, even if she didn’t fully believe it.
Voices echoed from near the livery, and she looked up to see Merrick returning with Roman and Jeremiah. Deirdre emerged from behind them and came running toward Eleanor and Clara.
She wrapped her arms around Eleanor. “I am so sorry, you must be frightened to death. But the men will find him. They won’t stop looking until they do.”
Eleanor nodded, desperately wanting to believe her. Deirdre wrapped her arm around Eleanor’s waist as the men approached.
“We’re going to find him,” Roman said with an expression that invited no rebuff. “I promise you that, Eleanor.”
“We’ll turn the entire town inside out if we need to,” Jeremiah added.
Merrick took her hand. His expression was set, and she knew he wouldn’t return until he found Davy. “Wait inside. All of you,” he said, his eyes darting to Clara and little Thea.
Clara clasped her baby tighter to her chest. “We will.”
Merrick nodded, gave Eleanor’s hand a squeeze, and set off with the other two men.
“He’s going to the marshal’s,” Deirdre said as she held the door open for Clara and Eleanor. “Roman and Jeremiah are going to round up some other men to begin searching.”
An image of every man in town looking high and low for Davy gave Eleanor hope. Surely whoever took him would have nowhere to hide. It would be impossible, wouldn’t it?
“I’ll make some tea.” Deirdre bustled to the stove while Clara and Eleanor sat in the kitchen chairs. Thea whimpered, and Clara bounced the baby in her arms while she made soothing noises. It sounded exactly like the way Davy sounded when he started to get hungry.
She twisted her fingers together as if that would help settle the sick feeling in her stomach. “He’s going to be hungry. They won’t have any way to feed him if I’m not there.”
Clara lifted Thea up to lean against her shoulder and rested a hand on Eleanor’s arm. “Whoever took him won’t let him go hungry. He’ll cry and give them away.”
Eleanor bit her lip. Clara was right. Cow’s milk would do to satisfy him, at least for a while. She comforted herself with the thought that at least he wouldn’t go hungry.
For a few minutes, the only noises were Deirdre moving around the kitchen. Eleanor’s mind swirled with worry and fear, and Clara divided her attention between Thea and Eleanor.
