The Prodigal Daughter

Chapter 14

The End of the Partnership

Lem jerked his arm free of Fergis' grubby fingers. "Keep your hands off of me!" He shrugged his body, as if to shake off the disgusting man's touch. "You got em?"

"They is waiting for you, all tied up like a Thanksgiving turkey."

"You got the money?"

Fergis patted the slight bulge in his breast pocket. "Right here. The whole two thousand. As soon as you get em loaded up on your wagon, I'll give you your half."

Lem told Fergis to wait outside, so they wouldn't be seen leaving together. With a subtle glance around the Oasis bar, he slipped out quietly to join his temporary partner.

"I'll drive the wagon down to the warehouse and meet you there."

Fergis nodded and took off in a dead run, to make sure to get there first. He did arrive first and hurried inside to make sure the merchandise was still secured. It was only a few minutes more before Lem came through the door.

"I thought you were going to have them in a crate!"

Fergis blew out an agitated breath. "Well I couldn't lift em by myself, now could I? And they wouldn't exactly jump in the box."

Lem shrugged. Maybe the reprobate had a valid point. "Okay, let's get them loaded up." He walked across the room and stepped inside the circle of dim light the one small lamp provided. "You've got them bound up together. We need to separate them in order to lift- …ahhh, HELL!" Lem jumped back so fast, he knocked over a stack of pallets, causing them to crash into the far wall. He stared at the now conscious redhead. Although she was tightly bound and gagged, there was no denying who she was. "This is Dillon's wife!"

"Yeah, I know that already. C'mon. Let's get movin'."

Lem stepped even further back, his bulging eyes were the perfect accessory to his mouth, which hung open in stupefied silence. Finally, shock was giving way to self-preservation. His fear took him to the next step: The other bound body was undoubtedly the Marshal's son. "I don't want any part of this!"

"What?" Lem Nells was no coward, so his behavior was both confusing and frightening to Fergis. "What do you mean? I got your one thousand dollars right here." He quickly pulled the money from his pocket and shoved it into the other man's hands.

Lem shocked him again, when he threw the paper on the floor, as if it were burning his fingers. "Unh-uhh. I was in the Long Branch the other day. I saw what he did to some drunken cowboy that made a move on her. If they hadn't stopped Dillon, he would have beat that man to death!" Lem took still another step back. "Nope. You keep the money and don't you ever tell anyone I had any part in this!" He started to leave and stopped abruptly. "If you do, so help me, I'll kill you myself!"

Fergis stood in the musky silence. He could see the rage in the redhead's eyes and was ever so grateful she was still gagged. He paced anxiously, back and forth, on the same wooden planks he had done a victory dance earlier.

Two thousand dollars could get him a long ways away from Dodge. The fear began to ebb away, just enough to let a new plan seep in. He began to discuss the revised plan with himself, hoping it would make sense, if he could just hear it said aloud. "I could just run away. Start over, with all the money. That woman would never find me." He glanced over at the kidnapped pair. "They ain't hurt, just maybe scairt a little." The fire in the woman's eyes quickly informed him that she was anything but afraid. He looked around the room. His focus found its place on a giant crate. True, he couldn't get them in the box; but he could turn it over on them, boxing them in. It might just give him a little more time before they were found.

Fergis pushed the crate and it toppled right over the top of the Dillon's. "It ain't like it's airtight," he mumbled aloud.

O0O0O0O0O0O0O0O0O0O0O

"Howie, is Miss Ainsley in her room?"

"I couldn't say, Marshal. I had to go next door for a few minutes. I suppose she could have come down then."

Matt nodded, glanced at the agent and they climbed the stairs together. The Marshal knocked on the door, but was greeted with silence. He knocked again, calling Phyllis Ainsley's name this time, but still…no answer came. The two men were about to leave when McPherson thought he heard something. A muffled cry… or something similar.

Dillon eased the door open, but the room appeared to be empty. Just as they turned again to leave, the faint whimper was heard once more. Matt threw the door open and there, huddled in the corner, was the Ainsley boy.

McPherson dashed around the huge man and dropped to his knees in front of the boy. "Taylor, everything is going to be all right. Your Aunt Belle and Uncle Rance are coming to get you."

It was an even mix of fear and hope that filled the boy's voice. "They are? Are you sure?"

The agent smiled, as he pulled the boy to his feet. "I'm sure. They sent me to find you." It came as no surprise to the seasoned Pinkerton man, when the youngster threw his arms around his rescuer and burst into tears. He held the boy tight, as he continued to reassure him. "Everything is going to be all right, I promise."

Matt knelt on one knee, to be of closer height. "Where is your mother, Taylor?"

"I'm so sorry for all the trouble I've caused you, Marshal. I knew I wasn't your son, but I was too afraid to say anything."

Matt brushed the tears away from the boy's cheeks. "No one is upset with you. We're just glad you're all right."

"But your wife and son-" His words stopped and the fear returned to his face. "Your wife and son… My mother paid a nasty man to get rid of them."

The giant man went from his knees to all six foot and seven inches instantly. "Who was the man? Where did he take them?"

"Marshal." McPherson snapped, just to remind him they were dealing with a terrified boy. "Taylor, son… Do you know who took them?"

"No. She gave him a lot of money and… after he left…" Tears welled up in the boys eyes again. "It was like she didn't know who I was. She threatened to kill me if I said a word, or tried to leave this room."

It took every ounce of restraint Dillon could muster, but McPherson was right. Taylor was frightened enough. "Can you describe the man?"

He was dirty—and smelled really bad. It sounded funny, like… he was going to put them in… a box of cinnamon."

"Cinnamon?" Matt repeated softly. "Do you mean—Cimarron?"

The young boy sniffed back a tear and pondered the Marshal's question. "I guess that could have been it? Does that make sense to you?"

"Yeah it does. How long ago did this man leave?"

"Maybe an hour? It was just starting to get dark. My mom left right after he did."

"I could use your help, McPherson. Why don't we take Taylor over to Ma Smalley's?" He turned his attention back to the boy. "She'll take good care of you, son."

O0O0O0O0O0O0O0O0O0O0O

Kitty struggled against her ropes, to no avail. Asher had them bound together so tight, there was no chance to escape. That worthless piece of flesh was going to pay for this! If she had to track him down herself, Kitty Dillon would exact her revenge for this man hitting her son. And tying him up! And gagging him! And scaring him.

One thing she could still do, was to move her head. Kitty leaned back and rubbed Cooper's head with hers. She could feel him lean back into her in return. In an effort to comfort him, she began to gently rock back and forth. Sometimes, words weren't needed, when love was shared.

Both of the kidnappers had fled, more afraid than their captives. It might be a long wait, but both mother and son knew that Matt Dillon would rescue them.

O0O0O0O0O0O0O0O0O0O0O

Matt ran down Front Street toward the Asher warehouse. His heart was pounding, his prayers flowing, that he would be in time to stop Fergis from taking his family into Indian territory. With McPherson hot on his tail, both men literally burst through the fragile old doors of the storage building.

McPherson turned up the light and carried the lamp farther into the murky room to search for the Marshal's family. Layers of dust and cobwebs spoke clearly of the lack of business this place had seen in the last few years.

"I think we missed them. If we leave now, we can catch up to the wagon."

"Wait." McPherson held a finger to his lips. "Listen..." It was faint, like mumbling—but it was human—and it was coming from the crate in the corner. It was also the only spot where the dust had been bothered. "Help me lift this up!"

Matt could feel his heart beating in his throat as he and the agent heaved the hefty container upward, tossing it back into the room. It was amazing how quickly fear could literally be eaten alive by joy. His wife and son—they were both alive! Both okay; and by the look in Kitty's eyes, at least one of them was reeeally angry. Matt worked on the restraints to free his son, while McPherson untied the angry redhead.

"Daddy!" There was pride and confidence in the youthful voice, but no fear. "We knew you would save us. Those men were afraid of you... 'Specially the cleaner one."

Kitty shook her head and worked her mouth to regain some of the moisture the gag had absorbed. She anxiously waited for the stranger to untie her hands. "Matt, check the side of Cooper's head. Asher hit him with his gun."

The worried mother winced, when the stranger accidently brushed the side of her cheek while reaching back to untie her hands. McPherson looked at the redhead, knowing she was not interested in her own wound. "He tried to save me when Asher threatened to hit me."

"I'm all right, momma. It doesn't hurt."

"So you were the hero…" The proud father gingerly ran his fingers through the mass of curls. There was a small bump, but he didn't feel any blood. "I should have known she was in good hands."

Despite the humongous grin, Cooper denied any heroic stature. "I didn't save her. That man tied us both up."

"But you tried, that's what makes you a hero." Matt hugged his son again, letting his gaze return to his wife. When McPherson loosened the ropes, Kitty pulled them over her head to slip out of the bondage. It was then that Matt saw the fresh bruise and cut to the side of her face.

After weeks of investigating, Collin McPherson had heard all the rumors, of the nearly legendary love between this man and woman. He had chalked it up as nothing more than romantic gossip in a small town. But now… he was witnessing firsthand the intense visual exchange between the couple. It was a look so powerful, that the Pinkerton detective fully accepted the truth of those rumors.

Any doubts that still lingered in his mind were quickly squashed, when he saw the look of rage the man suppressed in those cool blue eyes, at the sight of his wife's bloody cheek. Collin found himself hoping that whoever did it, was long gone.

"I'm fine." Kitty mouthed to the worried man. As she watched and listened to the chattering of her son, she couldn't control the happiness that burst inside of her.

Collin stepped in to congratulate the boy, giving Dillon a moment to confirm for himself that his wife was indeed all right. "Were you afraid?" That was all it took for the boy to start a litany of praise for the man that he knew would rescue him and his momma.

Matt pulled Kitty into his arms. He brushed the errant hair back, being extra careful as he exposed her bruised and bleeding cheek. "What happened?"

"I'm all right." She whispered, all the while knowing that was not going to satisfy him.

"That's not what I asked." He brushed his lips lightly against hers.

"Asher threatened me. Cooper jumped in to defend me. Asher hit him with the gun and then I jumped in to defend Cooper." She shrugged and started to offer an apathetic smile, but the pull on her cheek caused her to wince. Matt arched his brows, waiting for the rest of the story. "He hit me with his gun. Okay."

"Let's go home. I want Doc or Calleigh to look at you both."

Kitty balked when he put his arm around her to lead her forward and nodded toward Cooper. "He needs you."

Matt smiled and kissed her again, before reclaiming his son from the Pinkerton agent.

Collin filled Kitty in on the details of Phyllis Ainsley and her son, Taylor, as they journeyed back to Ma Smalley's. Again, she exchanged a look with her husband. A look of relief that told them both, their world was returning to normal.

They were just passing the livery stable, when Hank came staggering out of the barn. "Marshal, I need to see you." He held his hand to the back of his head and hung onto the door for support.

Kitty rushed ahead of the marshal to help the old man. "Hank, what happened!?"

"That…woman. That Ainsley woman. She come in here and hit me in the head with a board!" He paused letting the redhead take a look at the growing lump. "She stole one of my horses, Marshal."

Matt looked at Collin, neither understanding what the sick woman was up to now. "Did she say why she wanted it, or where she was going?"

"No. She just asked which one was my best horse and I pointed out that chestnut filly. The next thing I know, I'm waking up in the stall and the filly is gone."

"Do you want me to send Doc, or Calleigh, back to town to check you over?"

"Nah, Miss Kitty I been hit a lot harder than this; but I want that horse back! Moss is not going to be happy about this."

Kitty nodded and returned to the two lawmen. "What happens now?"

"Well, I know we're all tired, so I guess I'll take the boy back to the Dodge House with me." Collin volunteered.

"Daddy." Cooper tugged at Matt's shirt and whispered in his ear. The Marshal turned, blue confronting blue. "Are you sure?" The boy nodded and laid his head back on his daddy's shoulder.

"Why don't you get the boy and both of you come out to the ranch for the night? We've got plenty of room and you and I probably need to try to figure out our next step."

"It would probably be good for the boy, but I don't want to inconvenience you."

"We'd love to have you, Mr. MrPherson." Despite the wound, Kitty's smile was still a charming tool.

"Only if you will stop calling me, Mr. McPherson. It's Collin."

TBC