When Ellie went to Marvella and said she needed to go to her room to rest, Marvella hadn’t suspected a thing. In fact, she told Ellie it was a good idea.
Now if she could just get away without being seen.
A split skirt would be best for this venture. Especially if it took longer than Ellie hoped. The posse could find the men right away, but it was also possible they’d be searching for Father for days. She glanced around her room. She needed her camping things from the carriage house. And food. It was risky to slip into the kitchen, but she had to try.
She penned a short note for the Judge and Marvella and propped it against the plush pillows on her bed.
Please, God. Help them understand and not be angry.
Funny how it was getting easier and easier to pray.
She grabbed her heaviest coat and riding gloves as protection against the cold nights. Now... how to get a horse? The liveryman would probably not want to lend her a horse without the Ashburys’ approval, and once they were notified, she wouldn’t stand a chance of leaving.
Making her way down the servants’ stairs, Ellie paused to listen. Everything was quiet. It was nearly four o’clock.Marvella had given most of the staff the day off to celebrate so hopefully she would remain unseen.
Ellie reached the bottom step and glanced around the corner of the wall into the kitchen. It was empty. She grabbed what she needed and headed toward the back.
The back porch was empty as well. So far things were going her way. The carriage house was quiet, but Jim was there somewhere. Of course, he might have taken the Judge and Mr. Grinnell back to town so they could be on hand to help Mr. Hill.
Please ... let that be thecase.
She glanced outside to where the riding horses grazed in a small, fenced pasture. The horses might be skittish despite the times she’d petted them at the fence, so she grabbed a handful of oats along with a bridle and made her way through the gate.
22
“Stewart Briggs has been kidnapped!”
Grant stopped what he was doing, as did everyone else at the rail yard. “Stewart Briggs? Why?” What had his brother done? Mr. Briggs couldn’t do anything about the railroad.
The man shook his head. “Someone said the kidnappers thought they was takin’ Louis Hill.”
The wrong man. They’d taken the wrong man.
Grant went to an isolated area and punched the wall. What in the world would Alvin do when he realized the truth of the situation?
“They’s formin’ up a posse,” a man called out as he passed Grant. “They gonna head out in two groups to scout out where the men went.”
Grant clenched his teeth. Marshal Shelton was a pretty good tracker. If he got on to Alvin’s tracks, the posse would find them.
Eventually.
He’d better see what was going on. He left the rail yard and went to where the posse was forming. They were loadingup their horses with supplies for several days. Other men gathered around to watch them as well.
So much for the holiday celebration.
Grant’s boss, Collin Hoffman, came to stand beside him. “Someone said James Hill was hurt too, but he wasn’t taken.”
Of course not. Why should things go right for Alvin? What a stupid idea this had been.
“He okay?”
Hoffman shook his head. “He’s hired on about a dozen guards. Maybe more. And he’s locked himself into his private rail car and posted guards all around.” Hoffman gave a dry chuckle. “Guess he’s heading out of town as soon as he can.”
This was a disaster! If he was ever gonna hightail it outta town, now was the—
“Wallace!”
Grant turned—and froze. The marshal was coming toward him. Did he already know?
