Wilburn nodded. "You the only one working here?" he shouted to the owner.
"I'm betting he is," Elwin speculated.
The owner started to bend down below the counter. "Stay right where you are," Wilburn shouted. He turned to his friend. "Might as well rob the place while we're here. There's got to be a storeroom in back. We could take turns with the little lady in there."
Elwin snickered again. Taylor wanted to shoot him.
"Oh, Lordie," the owner whispered behind her.
She didn't take her attention away from the vile men in front of her when she sought to calm the shopkeeper. "It will be all right, sir."
"It ain't going to be all right for you, little lady," Elwin drawled out. He nudged his friend in his ribs and let out a low giggle. His hat dropped down lower on his brow. She couldn't see his eyes, but she guessed they were as ugly as the rest of him.
They took a step toward her. She cocked her gun in preparation. He stopped, grinned, pushed his hat back on his forehead, and took another step.
Taylor blew his hat clean off his head.
He let out a howl. The sound of gunfire muffled his cry and reverberated throughout the store. The glass in the front window shivered from the noise. The bullet lodged in the door behind the villain.
Elwin looked flabbergasted. Taylor thought that was an appropriate reaction.
"She get you, Elwin?" his friend asked. He squinted at his friend, looking for a mark.
Elwin shook his head. "She didn't even nick me," he boasted.
"She wasn't bluffing," his friend whispered.
Wilburn's face turned red. He took another step toward her. Taylor shot a hole in the tip of his boot.
Wilburn made a try next. Taylor was losing her patience. She shot a hole through his boot, too. He jumped back and stared down at his feet. He wiggled his toes to make sure they were all still there, then glared at the woman who'd just ruined his boot.
"Nope, she ain't bluffing us," he told his companion. "We're going to have to rush her."
Taylor let out a dramatic sigh. "They're really very stupid, aren't they?" she called out to the owner.
She heard his chuckle behind her. "Yes, they are," he agreed.
Elwin didn't like hearing the insult. His face turned as red as a ripe tomato. He started to reach into his pocket. Taylor cocked her gun again.
"We've got to wrestle that gun out of her hand," Wilburn decided.
Elwin shook his head. "You wrestle with her," he suggested in a mutter. "Can't you see where she's got her fancy gun pointed? My personals are in her sights. She's crazy, Wilburn. No telling what she'll do. She might not miss us with her next shot."
Both men mulled the matter over for a few seconds before they started backing away.
"We ain't going to forget you," Elwin promised.
"We'll get you all right," Wilburn added.
The shopkeeper took control then. He snatched up the loaded rifle he kept hidden on the bottom shelf and shouted a warning.
"I'll shoot you both if I have to, and I'll get you in your middles. Now get over there by the wall and keep your hands up high where I can see them."
Taylor turned to the owner. "How much do you want for this gun? I've taken a liking to it. I would like to purchase it, sir."
He shook his head at her. "You can have it without charge. You saved me from getting robbed and most likely killed. I'm in your debt, miss. If you'll only just tell me your name and address, I'll put it in my log. Each Colt is registered, you see, with its own number. It's a way to match the gun up with the owner."
"My name's Taylor Ross," she answered. "I'm staying at the Cincinnati Hamilton House, and I do thank you for this gift."
The shopkeeper kept his rifle trained on the two culprits now cowering together against the wall. Taylor tucked her gun in the pocket of her coat. She took the long way around the men on her way to the front door.
"Will you make certain they stay here for a little while? I don't want them following me."
"Don't you worry none, miss. As soon as my partner gets here, I'll send him to get the authorities."
"Good day to you then," she called out as she opened the door.
"Miss?" the owner shouted.
She paused at the threshold. "Yes?"
"Where'd you learn to shoot like that?"
"Scotland."
She was pulling the door closed behind her when she heard his response to her answer. "If that don't beat all."
Taylor walked all the way back to the hotel. She stopped at the first Catholic church she came upon and went inside to light a candle for Madam. She sat in the pew for close to an hour. First she prayed, and then she talked things over with her grandmother. She felt better and certainly more in control after her visit to the church. In truth she wasn't certain if it was because she'd prayed or because she had the protection of a gun in her pocket.
It was dinnertime when she reached Hamilton House. As much as the thought of food repelled her, she knew she should eat something. She was already feeling nauseated.
She hurried to the Ladies Ordinary, took a table in the corner, and ordered soup, two biscuits, and a pot of tea. The waiter tried to talk her into eating a more substantial meal. She graciously declined his suggestion. She nibbled on one biscuit and decided to take the other one back to her room in case she started feeling queasy again. She barely touched the vegetable soup, but the tea tasted wonderful to her. When she was finished with her sparse meal, she felt refreshed. The feeling didn't last long. After she'd had her bath and changed into her nightgown, she was worn out. She fell asleep on the settee while she waited for Lucas to come back.
She didn't wake up until the following morning. She found herself in her bed. Lucas must have carried her there. He'd changed his clothes, too, for the shirt he'd worn yesterday was looped over a chair.
They were still looking for the babies. Why was it taking so long? Taylor tried not to become discouraged. She got dressed, then went over to the writing table to make a list of things she could do to help in the search.
The more people they had looking for the children, the quicker they'd be found, she reasoned, and so she wrote out an advertisement to place in the local newspapers. Then she considered hiring several private investigators. If they'd been raised in Cincinnati and kept their ears opened to the goings on around the city, one might have already heard about the twins. Perhaps the hotel's management could recommend a few good investigators.
Taylor also considered making up flyers and pinning them all around the city offering a substantial reward for information about the twins.
If they were still in the city…
The day dragged. She decided to show Lucas her list that evening. If he didn't have any valid objections to her plan, she would place the advertisement with the papers in the morning. Perhaps he or Hunter would have a few suggestions to make as well.
Being idle was driving her crazy. She paced and she prayed, but the time still dragged by. Oh, how she wished Victoria were here. She needed someone to talk to and her friend was such a compassionate, caring woman, she would know the torment Taylor was going through.
She prayed her friend would be on the four o'clock train today. It was almost half past three now. Taylor went to the wardrobe to get her coat. She was going to go back to the station, of course, but this time she was taking her gun with her.
She filled the chambers with more of her bullets, tucked the gun in her pocket, and was just putting her coat on when the door opened and Hunter and Lucas walked inside. She was thrilled to see them until she got a good look at their faces. They both looked disheartened.
"You didn't find them, did you?" Lucas shook his head. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it. "Not yet," he qualified when he saw her crushed expression.