Then she sat down. She'd started a ritual of her own the night she found out the babies had disappeared. Every time Lucas left to search for the little girls, she prayed for him. Her plea to God was twofold. She asked Him to keep Lucas safe from harm and to help him find the babies. When Hunter had joined in the search, she of course added his name to her petition.
She couldn't sit still long. Pacing, it seemed, had also become a ritual. She would worry and pray and pace until Lucas and Hunter were safely home.
Perhaps tonight they wouldn't come back empty-handed.
"Please, God," she whispered over and over again, "let them find my babies."
Hunter and Lucas both felt they had a solid lead this time. They found the man named Boyd. They were in the process of becoming his best friends, and all because Hunter was paying for his whiskey. They sat with him at a round table in the corner of the saloon. Their goal was to get him liquored up enough to betray his own mother.
An hour later, they had accomplished their goal. Boyd took one look at the money Lucas was offering and started talking. He thought he was doing the Borders a good deed, because Hunter had hinted at the possibility of buying the twins. Money, Hunter boasted, wasn't a concern since he'd made his fortune.
Boyd was an extremely unpleasant individual. Demons, after all, usually were. He was completely devoid of morals. He was also as ugly as sin. He had thick, pockmarked skin and eyelids so heavy, the folds hung down over his eyes. He squinted in order to see.
He had the disgusting habit of puckering his lips together every time Hunter mentioned money. It was as though he was tasting his own greed.
Lucas barely spoke a word. He was afraid his voice would betray him. His loathing for the creature sitting across from him made his insides burn. The animal pretending to be a man was calmly discussing the pleasures to be had from young flesh.
Lucas wanted to kill him.
He had to give Hunter his due, however. He knew his friend was just as repulsed by the obscene man. Yet he didn't let his hatred show in his expression or his voice.
"How'd you come by so much money?" Boyd asked Hunter. "You're a half-breed, ain't you?"
Hunter ignored the second question and answered the first. "Gold," he lied.
"You hit a strike?"
Hunter nodded. Boyd grinned. "Must have been a mighty big one," he remarked.
"What about the Borders?" Hunter asked, trying to bring the man around to the main discussion.
"They already got themselves a buyer," Boyd said. "They could be convinced to go back on their word. It was a woman buyer, after all."
"A woman?" Hunter asked. He couldn't quite hide his surprise.
Boyd gave Lucas a worried glance. "Your friend doesn't talk much, does he?"
Hunter didn't answer him. "You said the woman was a buyer?"
Boyd nodded. "She wants twins for her brothel. Least that's what she told the Borders. You really willing to pay triple the asking price?"
"I got the money," Hunter replied. "Might as well use some of it. If the twins are worth it," he added. "I'd have to see them first."
"And you'll give me a split because I told you about them?"
"I already said I would."
"What if they ain't twins?" Boyd asked then. "I can't be certain they are," he admitted. He took a long swallow of whiskey, let out a loud belch, then wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve. "I haven't seen them. I heard the brothers had a pair of twins and their older brother. The boy's a half-breed. Could be his sisters are, too. If that be the case, none of them will be worth a plug nickel."
Hunter turned to Lucas. The message was clear in his eyes. He wanted to kill the bastard. He couldn't stand to look at him another minute, and he'd heard quite enough. He reached for his knife.
Lucas shook his head. "Not yet," he told his friend.
"Not yet what?" Boyd demanded to know.
"Tell me where they're keeping the children," Lucas ordered. He couldn't keep his anger out of his voice and didn't even try. Boyd didn't seem to notice. His full attention was directed on the stack of bills Lucas had just placed on the table.
Boyd's gaze was riveted on the sight. He puckered his lips together and reached for the money. Hunter's knife stopped him. The blade sliced through the crack between Boyd's fingers.
"Not so fast," Hunter announced after Boyd had finished screeching at him.
"Give us the address first," Lucas insisted. He poured Boyd another drink under the guise of friendship.
Boyd gave Hunter a glare and then drained his glass. He stared at the money another long minute, obviously trying to make up his mind. Then he blurted out the address.
"You won't be telling how you found them, will you?"
Hunter wasn't paying any attention to Boyd. He stared at Lucas, waiting for permission, no doubt, to kill the bastard.
Lucas denied him once again. "Boyd's going with us," he explained. "If he's lying, you can kill him."
"And if he isn't lying?"
Since Boyd was following the conversation, Lucas lied. "We'll give him the other half of the money."
"I got me enough money here," Boyd argued. He was so drunk now, his words were slurred together. "I ain't going anywhere with you." it took all Lucas's discipline not to reach across the table and grab the bastard by his neck. He forced a mild tone of voice when he spoke. "My friend likes to use his knife," he said with a nod toward Hunter. "He does some pretty fancy work with his blade."
Hunter raised an eyebrow, then smiled. "Thank you," he replied, pretending to be pleased by the outrageous lie.
Boyd's face was turning pale. It wasn't good enough for Lucas. He acted as though he was discussing the weather when he continued. "He's partial to skinning a man. He keeps him alive while he works on him. Isn't that right?" he asked his friend.
Hunter nodded. "Wouldn't be any fun if he were already dead. What's the point then?"
"Exactly," Lucas agreed. "What's the point?"
Boyd was shaking now and giving worried glances around the saloon. He was apparently looking for someone to help him.
No one was giving him the time of day. "I'm a white man," he protested.
Hunter smiled. "It's all the same to me," he drawled out.
Lucas nodded. "You called it, Boyd. My friend's a half-breed and therefore a savage, right?"
Boyd nodded, then shook his head. He couldn't seem to make up his mind to agree or disagree. He snorted. "You aren't going to take me anywhere. I'm staying right where I am. There are too many people in this here saloon. Witnesses," he added with a smug smile.
Five minutes later, Boyd had tears in his eyes. He was being dragged down the street between Lucas and Hunter.
They were looking for an alley. They found one two blocks later. They left Boyd there, bound and gagged and unconscious, behind a stack of wooden crates. They didn't want Boyd having second thoughts and possibly alerting the Border brothers of trouble, and as Lucas patiently pointed out to Hunter when he demanded the right to kill the son of a bitch, they might need to ask Boyd more questions if the Borders had moved the children to another location. There was also the telling fact that neither one of them was a cold-blooded murderer.
"We might want to kill him, but we won't," Lucas said.
Hunter didn't like being reminded of the truth. He growled low in his throat. "If we were in Montana Territory…"
"It would still be murder," Lucas countered. "When this is finished, we'll make certain everyone in town knows Boyd sold out his friends. That should make his life miserable."
Hunter cheered up. He fell into step beside Lucas and walked down the main street. Neither said a word for several minutes. Then Hunter broke the silence.