Page 74 of At Love’s Command

“Can I see the note?” Matt asked, stretching out his hand. He had no doubt that Burkett had read it correctly, but a leader didn’t make plans without first verifying facts.

Burkett shoved it at him with equal parts reluctance and gratitude. “The blackguard even made her write it herself. I recognize her handwriting.”

Matt took the sheet in hand, his gaze immediately attaching itself to the page. To her words. He hadn’t seen Josie write anything in the short time they’d known each other. Thirsty to know more of her, he drank in her pen strokes on the page.

He stepped over to Percival and carefully smoothed the page over the saddle, then held the edges down so the wind wouldn’t catch them. Preach dismounted and came around to look over his shoulder.

Her penmanship was tidy, free of the loops and flourishes that many females favored. Her letters slanted at a precise angle, close together, like orderly soldiers standing at attention.

Dear Father,

I am well. I have not been mistreated by Taggart or his men. The ransom location has been changed. Follow the map on the reverse side of this note to the new location. Mr. Taggart has postponed the exchange until three o’clock tomorrow. I will see you then.

Your daughter,

Josephine Burkett

Matt turned the paper over and glanced at the crude map drawn there, but noticed nothing of interest. Taggart would have drawn the map himself. Josie had written the note. The writing called to him in a way he couldn’t explain. He flipped it back to the front and read the words again, but they left him unsatisfied. There was something else. Something he wasn’t seeing. He studied the lettering a second time, ignoring the words themselves in order to examine the actual ink markings. He squinted, then tilted his head to consider it from a different angle.

“Brooks. Come look at this.”

Jonah dismounted and approached. Preach shifted to the side to make room.

“Is it my imagination,” Matt asked, “or is there a small dot at the top of certain letters?” He pivoted to the left to give his sergeant an unobstructed view.

Jonah said nothing at first, but then, he wasn’t one to offer an opinion before it was fully formed.

“See?” Matt pointed to the greeting. “It’s there on the D and E of Dear, but it doesn’t appear again until the crown of the S in mistreated.”

“What are you talking about, Hanger?” Burkett blustered as he pushed his way into the group. Once he saw what Matt was indicating, he waved his hand in dismissal. “Those are just ink spots. Taggart was probably holding her at gunpoint when he forced her to write that note. Poor girl must have been scared out of her skin. Only makes sense that her penmanship would be jerky instead of smooth.”

“I’ve seen your daughter operate on a man trying to bleed to death,” Matt countered. “Never once did her hands shake. She was steady as a rock. Josie’s not one to tremble under pressure.”

Burkett looked Matt in the eye. “My Jo’s strong, yes. Stronger than most men I know. But she’s still a woman at the mercy of a gang of outlaws who could do . . . unspeakable . . .” His eyes grew shiny. He turned his head, coughed, then turned back to level a hard stare at Matt. “She’s never faced this kind of pressure before.”

The truth he’d been doing his best to avoid stabbed Matt in the chest. His Josie was in a den of vipers, any of which could strike without warning or reason. He clenched his jaw until his molars ground together. He couldn’t dwell on what could happen. He needed his mind for more fruitful pursuits, like deciphering the hunch that had his men analyzing handwriting.

“She might be staring down the barrel of Taggart’s revolver,” Jonah said, tapping the page with the tip of his finger, “but I don’t think she’s blinkin’.” He twisted his face and offered Matt a half-smile. “I think you’re right, Captain. Those dots are too precise to be accidental. I think the doc left us a message.”

Beautiful, clever girl!

“Somebody find a pencil,” Matt ordered. “We have a message to decipher.”

CHAPTER

THIRTY-TWO

Matt worked his way through the note a third and fourth time, jotting down all the letters that had dots of ink at their crest. Some were easy to identify, like the O and C in o’clock. Others were less obvious. He and Jonah debated the merits of several letters with Preach throwing his opinion into the mix every so often, while the rest of the men paced and waited.

After narrowing down the suspects, Matt composed two horizontal lists along the bottom of Josie’s note. The first line contained the letters he and Brooks agreed upon, spaced far enough apart to cover the entire width of the paper. Beneath that were the more questionable letters, aligned with the open spaces of the top line in order to preserve the overall order of appearance.

“Yer wastin’ time, Hanger.” Having apparently reached the limit of his patience, Burkett stomped over to his mount and collected the black gelding’s reins. “We gotta get movin’ if we’re gonna reach the exchange point ahead of schedule. You can play word games if you want, but me and my men are heading out.” He drew abreast of Matt and held out his hand. “Give me the map.”

Matt’s attention never left the letters. D-E-S-E. Then possibly a T or a G, but neither made much sense with the R-T pairing next on the list of certain letters. If he crossed them out . . .

His pulse jumped as the letters left began to form a word. D-E-S-E-R—

“Hanger!” Burkett snapped.