Mr. Donahue didn’t say a word to the man at the desk. The grouchy man barely flicked a gaze at Hannah before returning to glaring at the wall. Mr. Donahue led her up the stairs as any hope Hannah had thatsomeonemight notice something was amiss vanished. The man downstairs neither noticed nor cared about the frightened look she was certain she wore. And neither did anyone else they passed in the hallway upstairs. Hollow-eyed women and men who’d clearly had too much to drink barely registered their presence.
Hannah’s heart lurched into her throat when Mr. Donahue stopped in front of a door with a crooked number 9 hanging on it. After tying her wrists to the bedpost with a length of rope that had been lying on the bed, he opened the door.
“Where are you going?” The words were out of her mouth before she could take them back. She ought to be glad he was leaving, not questioning him about it.
“Unlike the men out there,” Mr. Donahue said with a jerk of his head toward the hallway, “I’m a gentleman. This is your room.” With that, he closed the door behind him. The key scraped in the lock, and Hannah sat blinking at where he’d just stood.
Relief flooded her tired body when she realized she was safe for the moment. Hannah couldn’t imagine what he had in mind. Whatever it was, he feared her escaping. It wasn’t enough to lock her in this second story room, he’d also felt the need to tie her hands.
At some point during the night, she’d fallen asleep in her soaking wet dress on the bed. She’d woken in the morning when Mr. Donahue arrived with a bowl of what looked like cooked oats and a mug of steaming coffee. He untied one of her hands and then leaned against the wall to watch her eat. Hannah choked down the tasteless food and bitter coffee. Then he’d untied her other hand and led her downstairs to relieve herself in the stinking privies behind the building.
It was still raining, and the entire town seemed to be asleep. Mr. Donahue left her tied in the room again with a promise to return once he’d found a man he needed.
That had been hours ago.
Hannah had spent the time alternately working at the rope—which held fast—and thinking about Rafe and her friends. Ada must have gone for help after what had happened. She had no idea if Rafe and the others had returned to town yet. She hoped he had. That he and the men he was with were searching for her now. She wasn’t very far away, and she prayed they would be led to this town.
The girls had to be worried sick about her. After all her worries about what might happen when they reached Perseverance, her ownkidnapping by a man she’d known in New York certainly hadn’t been one of them.
At least Ada knew who Mr. Donahue was. She had to have recognized him. Hannah held onto that fact, although she wished now that she’d told Ada and the other girls about the letters. But Rafe and Natalie knew, and Rafe had promised to keep her safe. She held that promise close to her heart.
But as the day stretched on, her hope faltered. Maybe he wasn’t back in town yet. Maybe Adahadn’trecognized Mr. Donahue. And the worst of all, maybe Rafe wouldn’t come looking for her. After all, he hadn’t wanted them to come to Perseverance at all.
Maybe he’d never reallywantedto marry her.
The door opened as that horrible thought churned through her mind again. Mr. Donahue stepped inside, glee stretching his mouth into a smile. “Everything is in order,” he said as he withdrew the knife. He sawed through the rope until Hannah’s hands were free.
It was such a relief that Hannah almost forgot that there had to be a reason he was untying her now. He stood before her, assessing her from head to toe with a frown. “You look a mess.”
Hannah didn’t know how she managed to rouse anger out of all the emotions she’d felt, but there it was. “Because I spent hours in the pouring rain and have no change of clothing or hairbrush.”
Her vitriol made him raise the corner of his mouth in a smile. “Yes, of course. Well, it’ll have to do. I’ll see you get a new dress or two before we head east. I’ve an entire wardrobe waiting for you at home.”
Hannah’s anger extinguished at those words. Head east? Home? What exactly was Mr. Donahue planning?
“Come,” he said, holding out a hand. “There are papers for you to sign before the preacher can marry us.”
Chapter Nineteen
“Isthatahorse?”
Rafe squinted in the direction Jackson pointed. It was a horse. Standing alone with something dangling from its back as it nibbled on wildflowers.
Turning in the saddle, Rafe searched for a rider, but there was no one around.
“He must’ve got loose,” Jackson said.
“We aren’t far from Mad Dog Gulch. Probably came from there.” Rafe nudged his own horse forward, and Jackson followed.
They approached the lone horse slowly. It didn’t seem fazed by their presence, lifting its head once they got closer to sniff the air and eye them for a moment before returning to its meal. The fabric hanging from the saddle looked to be a filthy quilt.
“Garland,” Jackson said, a note of urgency in his voice. “That’s my Ada’s quilt. She just finished it a few days ago.”
Rafe turned to his friend. “Are you sure?”
Jackson rode closer and took the edge of the quilt in his hand. “It’s hers. She used some of my old shirts to make it.”
Hannah. It had been raining so hard the night before, it made sense that the girls would have thrown something over themselves to keep dry.
