“And that,” Lane added as she moved her fingers across her others, “is train. He’s taking her with him. We have to stop him, Oz.”
Walker appeared and scooped up his daughter. “Someone explain.”
Slade let Lane do the honors while he stood and turned away. Why? Why would Hughes have taken them to the station already, if Cumberland were their destination? He had to know Marietta was not with him willingly. He might be conceited and obsessed, but he was no idiot. A man couldn’t run a company the size of…
Of course. Slade was the idiot. The man owned the whole rail line. Why would he be bound by the timetables? He could modify the schedule as he pleased.
Which meant the train could already be gone. Or leaving in a matter of minutes. He had no time to lose.
He spun around, mouth open to ask, beg, inform, whatever he had to do.
Lane’s gaze was already on him. “Go. Hurry. We’ll do what we can in Washington.”
That was all the confirmation Slade needed. He ran back to his waiting horse and dug his heels into its flanks. He nearly turned the wrong way at the end of the street, toward Camden Station, until he realized that Hughes would have to have his cars pulled through the city by horse to President Street Station if he were heading west.
Maybe, just maybe, that would have gained him some time.
The city blurred around him, each pound of hooves echoed by his heart. Each beat of his heart a silent cry heavenward.
It shouldn’t be this way. He had known the stakes were high, but it should have only been about the Knights. About Lincoln. About Ross’s betrayal and Slade’s reclaiming of his reputation.
It shouldn’t have been about loving, so definitely not about this agonizing fear of losing the one he loved. Had he known this was part of the price…
A whisper moved through him. A solid thought that wouldn’t budge.
God knew. God had known all along and had called him here anyway.
A single flame of anger licked through him, but he banked it. He could ask why of the Lord forever and never find all the answers, but he knew enough of them. Knew that, even if he failed at his every task today, it would be worth it to have tried.
Worth it to have loved her.
President Street Station came into view, and his heart galloped far ahead of the horse. There, smoke already rolling from the locomotive’s stack, was the Hughes car, with three freight cars attached at the rear.
He urged his horse faster over the final stretch of street. Lord, get me there!
There was a whoosh of steam, a chug, and the wheels squealed into motion.
“We need to go with him.” Mr. Lane stood staring in the direction of the road, though Osborne had disappeared from view long ago.
Walker smoothed a curl from Elsie’s sleeping face and straightened. He was surprised she had curled up the way she had on her blanket and drifted off, but he was glad of it. Too much was going on inside for her to be underfoot.
He stepped to Mr. Lane’s side, studying the man’s profile rather than the road. “You don’t think he can handle Hughes?”
His companion turned, sorrow in his eyes. “He’ll do all he can. But you can bet Hughes will have help. And he has already proven he isn’t opposed to using violence to achieve his ends.”
Those concerns made sense, so he nodded. But it was more than that. “And it’s Yetta.”
Mr. Lane sighed. “Yes. It’s Mari. She has always been so special to me. The thought of her in that devil’s clutches…” He scrubbed a hand over his face, skewing his hat. “I have had loved ones in danger before and felt the hand of the Lord telling me to be still, to trust Him to care for them. Today I feel only an urgency to get myself on the next train to the mountains.”
“Then go.”
“But with all that will be happening in Washington—”
“We’ve hours enough to see to that. Their one agent is a ferry operator out of Port Tobacco, which means Grandpa Henry will know him. I’ll try to find Pinkerton or Oz’s friend and convince them this is serious. Hez and I will handle the rest.” Even as he said it, his heart tugged him back toward the carriage house, where Cora’s groans kept coming through the windows. Jess’s bleeding had stopped, but she hadn’t woken up yet.
They would pray. And then pray some more.
Mr. Lane slapped a hand to his leg. “I have to go. I will take Ize with me and send Hez and Henry here. Gwyn and Julie I’ll set to praying.”
“When the rest of the servants get back from church, I’ll get them praying too.”
Decision made, Mr. Lane took off for his horse.
After checking on Elsie again, Walker jogged up the stairs to home. He knew Barbara and his mother would only let him in for a few minutes, but he had to know how Jess and Cora were doing.