Author note: Sorry if you got conflicting notices or multiple notices on this chapter being published. The formating wouldn't allow my um-lout break in the story so I had to go with another symbol "WWWWW". I Know that one works. My apologies to the author who has used it before me.
CHAPTER 2
Jim West had been up before the sun. They were pulling out this morning heading for San Francisco. The trip would take several days and traveling through the mountain passes was a feat to be attempted only in the daylight so they had to make use of all the sun they had.
The only problem was Artemus wasn't on board. He knew he had a theater engagement with Amelia the night before and even if he had been invited to stay into the evening, Jim doubted he would. First, Artemus Gordon was a far too principled man to ever take advantage of a lady even if he was asked to, and secondly Artemus was just never late. A left over from his theater days Jim figured.
He was beginning to worry. He decided he'd let the horses get some fresh air as they were going to be confined for a few days as the train traveled. He opened the box car door and was greeted by contented huffing from the horses inside. His own black stallion shook his head excitedly hoping for a run with his master.
Mesa, Artemus's horse, stamped her foot impatiently probably looking for a treat. Artie never had the need for a spirited horse and often said Jim was crazy for ever riding such a handful as the black. How different they were, he reflected. He was an adrenaline junkie, never backing down from a fight and usually handily beating all takers. Artemus preferred trickery, using disguises and his acting ability to gain the upper hand, and yet as a team they had an enviable record of successes.
His thoughts were broken by the sound of a fast approaching horse.
"Artemus you devil," he thought fully expecting to see his partner riding up fast wearing an ear to ear grin.
Instead it was a small dapple grey with a woman riding and wasting no time. As she approached that feeling of worry that had been simmering ever since he found his partner was missing, suddenly went to a boil as he realized it was Amelia Eastcott.
"Where's Artemus?" he asked as he grabbed the reins.
"Oh, Mr West," she started to sob. "I think they killed him!"
He helped her slide off the weary animal, and she crumpled into his chest. Her heart was racing but he knew she would need to calm down before she'd be coherent. When he felt her breathing normalize, he said as calmly as he could, "Tell me what happened."
She said they'd gone to the theater, and stopped on the way back for a glass of sherry.
"Did you have your driver or a rented carriage?" he asked.
"We were going to have my driver take us but my carriage horse somehow had managed to cut his leg badly on something that afternoon so Artemus suggested we take a hack."
"Did you take the same coach both ways?" She replied that they did because the driver had been so kind as to say he would wait for them after the show so they wouldn't have to find a carriage when many people would all be looking for one. The hairs were already beginning to stand at the back of Jim's neck.
"What happened when you got home?"
"Well, Artemus walked me to the door, we spoke for a minute… kissed, and then he waited for me to go inside and he left." She began to sob.
"A few minutes later I heard a scuffle outside my window and I saw two or three men, I couldn't be sure because it was dark, and they were fighting with him! I yelled for my stable man, John, but he wasn't in the house. I ran downstairs to look for a gun in the library but there was none. When I looked out the window again, they were dragging him away and he wasn't moving! I think they killed him, Mr West!"
She began to cry again and he held her close feeling the rush of her emotion.
Controlling his own emotions he said, "I don't think they killed him, Amelia. If they had they would have left his body. From what you're telling me I think he was kidnapped. Why I don't know, but who ever took him wanted him alive."
His mind was churning with the hundreds of possible men who would want to harm his partner. "Is there anything else?" he asked. "Think. Anything at all could be helpful."
She ran over to her horse and unhooked a dirty sack that was hanging on the saddle horn. "Yes there is. I found this in the bushes. It's a cloth of some type but I had to wrap it in oil cloth because it smells odd and made me feel sick to even be near it."
Jim unwrapped the bundle and knew immediately what had been used to kidnap his partner. "Chloroform," he said throwing it far into the dry grass. "It's a compound recently invented that causes unconsciousness if inhaled. Artie talked about it and how it was a gift to the medical profession as a surgeon would be able to perform surgery painlessly by rendering the patient unconscious and impervious to pain."
"Why would anyone want to kidnap Artemus?" she asked.
He lied, "I don't know, but I need to start looking for him."
"Do you think he's alright?" she asked hopefully.
"I don't know that yet either, but I will soon," he answered.
Her face brightened. "There is another thing: the carriage we rode in. It had new red leather seats in the passenger compartment. We both commented on how festive it looked with red seats instead of the usual black. Does that help?" she said.
"Everything does," he replied. "Now I want you to go into the train car, have something to eat and rest. I'll see to it one of the engineers accompanies you back to town."
"No," she said, "I'm going with you!"
"I don't think so. As a matter of fact I KNOW you aren't. This will be dangerous and nothing for a lady." Thinking fast he added, "Plus Artemus would KILL me if something happened to you. Now just do what I say, and I'll let you know as soon as I find out anything."
She began to protest.
"As soon as I know, you'll know. I promise. And don't worry, I'll find him."
He gave her a light kiss on the check and wished he felt as confident as he sounded.
WWWWW
He hurt. He hurt everywhere. But it was the pressure on his chest he had to get rid of. Something was crushing his chest and he couldn't breathe. He heard a croaking sound nearby, a mixture of a cry and a groan. He slowly realized it was his own voice that he was hearing. He wanted to open his eyes but they wouldn't cooperate. He could feel his heart begin to race as he struggled to get air.
"Easy Mister. You're alright. There's nothing on your chest, you need to relax and take small breaths."
The soothing words were accompanied by cool strong hands that were gentle but firm as they held his hand. He focused on calming the panic that had threatened to overwhelm him, and tried to relax by taking shallow and painful breaths. He wanted to speak but he knew he barely had enough air to stave off suffocation.
The soothing voice continued, a woman's voice he realized. He began to focus on his surroundings. His was lying on a soft bed of some type. The air was cool to his skin. Although he still couldn't seem to get his eyes to cooperate, he was able to wiggle his toes and move his leg slightly.
He brought up his free hand to wipe the fog out of his head and the same sweet fingers once again held his hand firmly but gently, preventing him from touching his face. He started to panic again as he realized he had no strength to fight this seeming angel of mercy.
"Easy Mr Gordon. No one is going to hurt you. You'll just upset yourself if you try to fight and then you'll be out of breath again," the woman's voice softly warned.
"That's right Mr Gordon. No one is going to hurt you….old friend," a familiar voice chimed in. He didn't have to cut through any confusion to know who that was.
"Loveless," he croaked.
"At your service, sir," the little man said cheerfully. "Or perhaps I should clarify and say you are at my service, Mr Gordon."
He managed to get his wayward eyes to finally respond and opened them to see a young woman dressed in plain clothing sitting on one side of him, and Dr Miguelito Loveless seated on the other.
"And pray tell what service do you wish from me, other than to die." This time his voice came through as a wheeze.
"Oh yes, I am sorry about your condition Mr Gordon. You see I have certainly tried to kill you on multiple occasions in the past, but never to cripple you. I do have morals you know. I just wanted those goons to knock you out and bring you in. I gave them specific instructions on the proper dosage of the chloroform- I'm sure you realize that was my drug of choice- but it's hard to find good thugs these days. And what did the Neanderthals do? They soaked the cloth in chloroform instead of following my instructions. I'm surprised they didn't knock themselves unconscious, but I suppose they would have to have some type of brain in order for the drug to have an effect."
The doctor jumped off his seat and continued to talk as he paced just outside of the agent's view.
"So because of the unnecessarily high dose your heart seems to be out of sinus rhythm, a condition that should correct itself with time, but in the meanwhile if you should exert yourself, you could suffer permanent damage or worse, kill yourself, which of course would save me the trouble. However, I'm sure you'll be pleased to know I have no immediate plans for such an undertaking. The good news: I won't have to use any restraints on you as I doubt you could walk ten feet!" the little man said with a chuckle.
The doctor approached him standing next to his nursemaid. "You see all clouds have silver linings. Now as to your meddlesome friend, Mr West, I have no doubt he'll track you down and attempt a rescue, which of course is exactly what I want him to do."
"So you can kill us both," Artemus wheezed again in a strained voice.
"Oh no, not this time Mr Gordon. As I said you shall be of service to me, and Mr West's presence will insure your cooperation. As a matter of fact I wouldn't be surprised if you both decided to assist me willingly when you hear my proposal. But enough of this for now. You need to rest and my lovely Faith is here to help you. I trust you will be a good patient, Mr Gordon, although I don't think you could put up much of a fuss anyway. But just in case I do have guards all about the building."
Artemus heard echoing footsteps and then a door close. His mind was already racing, planning for his own escape or at least a way he might be able to warn Jim. He was helpless.
But there might be a way he could use this young woman who was sitting beside him. Perhaps he could convince her to help him either by transporting him out, perhaps in a wheelchair, or by getting a message to Jim. First things first though. He needed to know how long he'd been unconscious, and a man's beard was a good time piece in a pinch. He raised his hand to feel his face. This time the young woman didn't stop him, but anticipated his question.
"You've been asleep for eight hours. You had only the one dose of chloroform. The doctor did not give you anymore."
He looked at her more closely now. Being an expert in disguises had made him a keen observer of faces and she had one of the most interesting and pleasing he'd seen in awhile.
Her face was broad with high cheekbones and skin the color of desert sand, framed by soft dark hair- almost coal black- but with a touch of auburn. Her eyes were well spaced –not too far apart but not too close, and the color was moss green framed by brows that formed perfect arches. A delicate nose sat in between.
He surmised she was of mixed heritage, half Indian, probably Shawnee, and half white. He couldn't see her torso but he figured she was small, maybe five foot two inches with a strong build. Her English seemed fine so he guessed she had been brought up white, most likely a new settler mixed with native blood.
Women usually fell for strong men put in helpless situations and he thought he'd go for that as his angle. Hell, that's what he honestly was so no acting was necessary.
"Could you help me sit up?" he whispered.
She put a sturdy arm under his back and swung him up to a seated position. What he thought was a bed turned out to be a sofa and he was able to lean back on a fat soft cushion. The room swam before him, and he had to close his eyes to stop the nausea. The pressure on his chest relieved a bit and he was able to breathe a bit more easily but his limbs all felt like lead and he came to grips with the fact he'd never make it out on his own, at least not like this.
She brought a glass of water up to his lips instructing him to sip slowly. He held her hand with his to steady the glass as he brought it up for another sip, and smiled what he hoped was his most charming smile, and thanked her.
"We'll try some broth next, Mr Gordon. You need to eat and this was my mother's favorite recipe."
