Ezra clicked his mouth, urging his mount forward. He smiled to himself. Although he lacked Vin's expertise, he had managed to follow the rustler's trail without losing it. Perhaps he'd be able to claim that drink from Buck or JD after all. He lost his smile as he heard an ominous sound.
Rat-a-rat-a-rattle!
The rattlesnake struck. The horse reared. Ezra fell.
Marina Standish put her book down. Her eyes were too tired to read. She had darned and patched every bit of mending in the house. It was too dark to attempt needlepoint; the lamp didn't give enough light to see the delicate stitches properly. She glanced at the clock. Five minutes until midnight.
She sighed. Either Ezra was still out with Chris Larabee, or he'd been too tired to come home and had decided to spend the night at the saloon. Either way, she wouldn't wait up for him any longer. She headed for bed.
Marina looked up at the clock again, hunger warring with loneliness. Her husband was late for lunch, and she was debating whether or not to eat without him. On the one hand, she was hungry. For the past week or two, she was unable to eat more than a morsel at breakfast, but she more than made up for it at lunch and dinner … not to mention frequent snacks. On the other hand, she wanted to wait for Ezra. He always came home for lunch.
And with Chris Larabee commandeering his services yesterday, she hadn't seen him in twenty-four hours.
Still, she felt ravenous. Maybe just one ham sandwich …. As she began nibbling, frustration replaced hunger. For all his flaws, despite his unhappiness in their marriage, Ezra was the epitome of courtesy. He prided himself on being a gentleman. So why hadn't he had the decency to at least send a note that he'd be delayed?
Movement outside the window caught her eye. Billy Travis, a stick for a horse, was galloping down the dirt lane.
"Billy!"
"Yes, ma'am?"
"Could you do me a favor?"
"Whoa." He pulled up his mount. "Sure. I mean, yes'm."
"Go down to the Queen of Diamonds. Don't go inside; your mother wouldn't like that. But knock on the door, and ask Mr. Standish whether or not he's planning to come home for lunch. I'm getting too hungry to wait for him," she confessed.
"Okay. Giddyup." The seven-year-old galloped off.
Billy stood outside the saloon's batwing doors. "Mr. Standish?"
Inez Recillos came to the door. "He is not here, niño. He is at home."
"No, he ain't. Isn't," the boy corrected himself automatically, remembering what his mother had said about ain't. "Just came from there. Mrs. Standish sent me to fetch him."
"La delgada no puede llevar la cuenta de su marido**," Inez muttered. She did not think much of Marina; the feeling was mutual.
Chris Larabee rose from his table and joined Inez at the door. "What's up, Billy?"
"Mrs. Standish is hungry, and wants to know how much longer she needs to wait lunch on her mister," Billy explained.
Larabee turned to Inez. "You seen him lately?"
"Not today, no. He stay home today."
"Buck, when'd you last see Ezra?" Larabee asked, beginning to worry.
"Not since yesterday, when we split up going after those rustlers. He's probably hiding 'cause he owes me a drink." Buck smiled. "Me and JD bet him that the last one back had to buy drinks."
"So you ain't seen him since yesterday?"
"No. Probably upstairs, or at home," Buck replied.
"He's not at home; Marina's looking for him. Go check upstairs," the gunslinger ordered.
Buck started to protest, until he saw the serious expression on his friend's face. He trotted up the stairs. He came down a moment later. "He ain't up there, and his bed hasn't been slept in."
"Go check with his missus, see when she saw him last. I'll get the others." Larabee frowned. He didn't like what he was thinking.
Marina hurried to the door. She knew Ezra wouldn't knock, but her heart leapt anxiously, eagerly, nonetheless. She tried to conceal her disappointment when she saw who it was. "Hello, Buck."
He touched his hat. "How you doing, Marina? Ezra at home?"
"Still at the saloon. Would you like some lunch? Ezra hasn't deigned to leave his cards long enough to come home and eat, and it's a shame for good food to go to waste."
"Thank you, ma'am. Already ate." He tried to keep his voice casual. "Did he say when he expected to be back?"
She scowled. "The last word I had from him was a message that he probably wouldn't be home for dinner last night. Which he wasn't. I'm tempted to give Chris Larabee a piece of my mind. It's one thing if he keeps you out all night – you're a bachelor – but Ezra has a wife and home to come back to."
"Ezra was out all night?"
She nodded. "And it's not the first time Mr. Larabee's kept him out all night. Then he goes straight from pretending to be a lawman to his saloon, and I go a full twenty-four hours without catching so much as a glimpse of my own husband."
"I'll go find Ezra, shoo him on home," Buck promised, trying to conceal the worry he felt.
"You do that. And if you see Chris Larabee, warn him to stay out of my way, or I may forget to be ladylike."
"You could never do that, ma'am." Buck touched his hat again and hurried away as quickly as he could without being rude.
"Chris, we got us a problem," Buck announced as soon as he stepped into the saloon.
Raising one blond eyebrow, Larabee gestured for his friend to join him at his customary table in the back. JD and Josiah were already there.
"Marina ain't seen him since yesterday. Matter of fact, she's vexed with you keeping him out all night."
"If he's missing, why didn't she say something before?" JD asked.
"Ezra sometimes sleeps at the saloon, if it's a really late night … or if they've had a fight," Josiah acknowledged.
Larabee bit his lip. "She hasn't seen him since yesterday. And you two haven't seen him since you split up on the trail?"
JD and Buck nodded.
"Even if his horse threw him, he could've walked back by now. Something's wrong. Get Vin and Nathan," Larabee ordered.
"Should we say anything to Marina?" Josiah asked.
"Not yet." Larabee stood and put his hat on. "Let's ride."
** La delgada no puede llevar la cuenta de su marido. The skinny woman can't keep track of her husband.