"Lucas told me you were the second-best tracker in America."
After making that statement she allowed her husband to urge her forward. Hunter fell into step beside them.
"Second best? Who's first?" he asked.
She smiled up at him when she answered. "Lucas is. He told me so."
Hunter couldn't tell if she were jesting with him or being sincere. He felt it his duty to set her straight. "Lucas has it backward, ma'am. He's second best." He nodded.
Lucas spoke up, addressing his comments to his friend. "We'll drop Taylor at the hotel and then…"
She interrupted him. "I want to go with you."
He shook his head. "You need to get some sleep," he told her. "You can barely stand up. I slept on the train. You didn't."
"Lucas, I feel fine. Truly."
"You look like hell. If you don't get some rest, you'll get sick."
The argument would have continued on, but Hunter stepped in and put a stop to it with one indisputable fact.
"You'll slow us down."
"Then I'll wait at the hotel," she immediately replied.
It almost killed her to be left behind, but she understood their reasoning. They would be going into places where a lady wouldn't be welcomed. That fact didn't bother her, but she knew Lucas would spend most of his time watching out for her instead of concentrating on the task at hand: finding the little girls.
Taylor didn't have to tell Lucas to take his guns with him. this time. He and Hunter helped her check into the hotel room. They stayed less than a minute. After tossing her valise on the bed, Lucas grabbed his gunbelt, loaded his guns, and strapped the belt around his hips on his way out the door. He didn't even waste time saying good-bye.
She paced and fretted for over an hour, then decided to do mundane chores to keep busy. She had a bath, washed her hair, unpacked her clothes, and then stretched out on the bed in her robe. She thought to rest for just a minute or two and then get dressed again.
She slept for a good four or five hours. She awoke feeling disoriented. It took her a full minute to realize where she was. Part of her sleepy confusion was due to the fact that the room she was in was almost identical to the hotel room in Boston. The owners had obviously decided to build an exact duplication of the original. There was the same seating area with a divan and two chairs, the identical alcove housing the bed, and there were even two wardrobes in the room, both set against the same long wall. The colors in the room were somewhat different, however. This one was done in pale shades of gold with white accents. There was also one other difference. There were two doors on the left of the wardrobe instead of one. The first door led to the washroom. The second was an opening to the room reserved for Victoria. The adjoining area was smaller in dimensions and the focal point was a large four-poster bed covered with a royal blue spread. A chair, chest, and wardrobe took up the rest of the space. While the room didn't give the same feeling of intimacy as the alcove did, it had its own charm. It was certainly just as exquisitely appointed and really quite lovely.
Taylor was pleased that the second room she'd reserved was so close to this one. Victoria would be pleased with her accommodations. She'll be exhausted when she arrives, Taylor thought. She wished she had thought to ask Victoria to send a wire ahead telling her of her arrival time, but she'd been in such a state, she hadn't had time to think about such particulars.
Her stomach was suddenly grumbling. Taylor hadn't eaten in a good long while, yet the thought of food made her ill. She was still too churned up with worry and fear to eat anything, and so she went back to her pacing and her praying. A minute seemed as long as an hour. She checked the hour at least a dozen times. It was after eight in the evening. Lucas and Hunter had been gone over seven hours now. She didn't know if they'd come back this evening or not. When she grew too weary to pace, she went over to the window, leaned against the ledge, and stared out into the night. It was pitch black outside, for the moon was covered by rain-swollen clouds.
Where were Lucas and Hunter now? Had they found the babies yet?
There were a couple of possibilities. Hadn't Hunter said just that to Lucas at the train station? Oh, why hadn't she asked him to explain what he'd meant? She'd behaved like a timid little mouse, that's why. And he'd fairly overwhelmed her, she silently added. She wouldn't dwell on her shortcomings now but would focus on the possibility that they had already found the little ones. Why, they could be on their way back to the hotel with her babies in their arms.
Taylor tried, but she couldn't will the children back. Lucas and Hunter arrived at her door several hours later. They were both empty-handed.
She wanted to push the two of them out and demand they continue their search. Reason prevailed, however. Both Hunter and Lucas looked exhausted.
"Are you going out again soon?" she asked.
"In a while," Lucas answered. "There's a bed in there," he told his friend.
Hunter nodded, then turned and disappeared into the second bedroom. Taylor chased after Lucas. He was on his way to the alcove where their bed was located.
"Did you find out anything? Anything at all?"
Lucas removed his gunbelt, looped it over one of the bed posters, then started to unbutton his shirt. Taylor moved closer to his side. The smell of gunpowder was on his clothes.
"You fired your gun."
He acted as though he hadn't heard the remark. "Hunter and I will start again in the morning. There are a couple of possibilities still to be checked out."
"Do you think they're still in Cincinnati?"
She was wringing her hands together in anxiety and trying without much success to remain calm. He didn't know if they were still in the city or not. Every lead thus far had turned into a dead end. He didn't think he needed to share the dour news with her, however. "We'll find them," he said.
Taylor sat down on the side of the bed. Lucas left the alcove and went to the washroom. He returned a few minutes later, looking clean and refreshed. He smelled of soap now, but there was still a lingering scent of gunpowder. Odd, but she didn't find the smell offensive at all; however, it did remind her he had fired his gun.
"Did you have to kill anyone?"
He was clearly exasperated by the question. "No," he answered, his tone abrupt.
She wasn't intimidated. "But you did fire your gun."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Just wanted to get a little attention," he told her.
She was beginning to hate his half answers and thought about telling him just that, then changed her mind. She didn't want to get into an argument. Lucas was tired. He needed his rest so he could go back out and look for the babies again.
"You won't give up, will you?" She blurted out her worry and gripped her hands tight while she waited for an answer. Lucas towered over her. The expression on his face told her he didn't like the question. She was quick to guess the reason why.
"Did I just insult you again?"
He nodded.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
He didn't look placated by her apology. Taylor let out a sigh and got out of his way so he could pull the covers back on the bed.
God, she wanted to believe in him. She should get down on her knees and thank her Maker for giving her Lucas Ross. Whatever would she have done without him to help her? He really was her Prince Charming and hadn't Madam known that all along?
Heavens, her emotions were getting out of hand. She suddenly felt like weeping. She didn't give into the urge, however, because crying would upset Lucas, and after all the trouble he'd gone to over the past several days, the last thing she wanted to do was make him fret about her. The man needed rest, not more worry.