Page 72 of The Heart’s Charge

CHAPTER

THIRTY

As soon as the breakfast dishes were cleared away the following morning, Mark and Jonah saddled up and rode into Kingsland to question both the deputy and the livery owner about Miguel Ortega. Deputy Bronson had heard of Ortega but had no solid information on the suspect’s whereabouts or who he might be working for. The livery owner proved more helpful when he identified Ortega’s horse as a black Palouse. Ortega wasn’t a frequent customer—Donaldson had only seen him once or twice—but a mount with distinctive, spotted markings tended to linger in a liveryman’s memory.

“At least we have an idea of what we’re looking for now,” Mark said as he swung into the saddle and nudged Cooper into a walk.

Jonah came abreast of him as they left the livery but said nothing in response. Not that Mark had expected him to. Jonah was in scout mode. On the hunt. Only critical information warranted the use of words.

Impatient energy coiled within Mark’s muscles, making it difficult to hold Cooper to a walk. Wart had been missing for more than a week. An unknown number of other boys for even longer. This lead had to pan out. He didn’t care how many unsavory rocks they had to turn over, they’d stick with it until Miguel Ortega crawled out from under one.

Lord, you are the Good Shepherd, the finder of lost sheep. Guide us today. Show us where—

“Mr. Wallace!” A female voice jerked him out of his prayer and brought his head around. Althea Gordon rushed down the school steps, waving her arm. “Mr. Wallace, wait. Please. I have news.”

Mark reined Cooper in and hid his annoyance behind a manufactured smile, determined not to let her delay them more than a moment or two. He reminded himself that she was an ally in this fight. One who might have information to aid their search. Yet as he watched her weave between a pair of parked wagons, all he wanted to do was kick his horse into a gallop and get on to Honey Creek.

The teacher puffed slightly as she reached them. “I saw you from the window of my classroom and knew I had to catch you. I’ve been meaning to come by the foundling home, but I just couldn’t seem to find the time.”

Which meant the news probably wasn’t too vital. Mark’s annoyance level rose another notch, though he took pains not to let it show.

He tipped his hat. “Good morning, Miss Gordon. What news do you have?”

She glanced around, then lowered her voice so it wouldn’t carry. “I’ve been watching for strange men, just as you instructed.” She moved closer to him, craning her neck in order to meet his eyes. “I spotted one a couple of days ago. Loitering outside the schoolhouse, watching the children leave.”

A gentleman would dismount and not force a crick into her neck, but Mark couldn’t spare the time for gentlemanly manners this morning.

“What did he look like?”

Her face scrunched slightly, and her gaze moved upward as if she was searching her memory for details. “He wore a red shirt and tan trousers. Brown boots. A gun belt. He was chewing on a piece of straw.”

Great details, but none of them helpful. If she’d just seen the man an hour ago, his clothing might be important. But two to three days after the fact? Pointless.

“Tall or short? Black, white, Mexican? What kind of hat did he wear?” A man might change his clothes, but most only wore one hat.

Her eyes widened. “I-I’m not sure. Nothing really struck me as unusual about him, so he must’ve been about average height. White, I think, though his skin was darker. Maybe tanned from the sun, or he might have been a vaquero. I’m not certain. His hat was brown, I think. Or maybe black. Definitely a dark color.”

A dark-colored hat and a nonspecific skin tone. She could be describing eighty percent of the men in Llano County. “I don’t suppose you recognized him or caught a name?” Mark asked, a dash of exasperation creeping into his tone.

Miss Gordon’s face crumpled as she shook her head. “No. I thought it best not to approach him in case he was dangerous, so I pretended as if I hadn’t noticed him. Should I have spoken to him?”

“No. You did the right thing.”

A touch of a smile returned to her face. “Oh, good. I so want to help. I can’t stand the thought of children being taken. Unless your investigation has determined that this was, in fact, a misunderstanding?”

She looked so hopeful that he hated to disappoint her, but with children in her care, she needed to be on alert.

“Unfortunately, it’s the exact opposite. We have confirmed at least one abduction and suspect several others. We’ve got a lead on a fellow from the Honey Creek area who might be involved.”

“Honey Creek? Maybe Peggy knows something about him. Do you have a name? She’s supposed to be in later today. I can ask her about him.”

“Miguel Ortega.”

She drew back and blinked, a bit nonplussed. “Ortega, you say? That name sounds vaguely familiar. I’ll ask Peggy about him after school lets out. Will you be at the foundling home this afternoon? I assume that is where you’re headed now.”

Mark shook his head. “No. We’re on to Honey Creek.”

“But wouldn’t it be better for me to talk to Peggy first? It could narrow your search. Save you some time.” Miss Gordon nibbled on her lower lip.