“Me too...” the ranger said, eyes studying the dark shapes behind them until from the shaggy forms he made out a cabin raised up in the trees. Amber light shone from its door and window. He raised his pistol. “What the hell?”
“More good fortune, my friend...” Van Resen said, taking Seward’s arm and leading him toward the structure.
“Lilly’s missing!” Virginia James said urgently, voice breaking as she patted the Texan’s broad back. “But I have hope now you’re here!”
“Missing?” Captain Seward hissed turning back to them, his face a mask of purpose.
“She wandered off!” Holmes snapped, his petulance obvious despite the darkness. “Without a thought for the rest of us.”
“She was sick,” Virginia added in a scolding tone. “We can’t delay.”
The big Texan nodded with his mouth dropped open as he regarded the tree house.
A silhouette appeared at the door.
“Oh Captain Seward!” a voice rang, and the ranger recognized Mrs. Quarrie standing in the doorway.
“By God! Seward...” Mr. Quarrie rasped, stepping out of her shadow and kneeling to reach down and clasp the ranger’s hand. “I knew we hadn’t seen the last of you.”
“Thank God you’re here!” Mrs. Quarrie cried, hurrying back into the cabin.
“What happened?” Seward growled as Miss James tugged his arm.
“Hurry Captain,” the governess said, her face and nightdress bright in the lamplight. “She’s out there alone.”
“Can you find her?” Phillip Holmes asked, voice cracking.
“Better if we all look,” the ranger growled, glancing at the grass for some sign. “How long has she been gone?”
“Difficult to say,” Van Resen said, “I was sitting in the dark and fell asleep by the fireplace.”
“Fireplace?” The old ranger glared quizzically up at the cabin. “All right...”
When Mrs. Quarrie reappeared in the doorway, Seward could just make out the silvery tear tracks on her cheeks as she handed something to her husband, who passed it down to him.
His Stetson—looking a little worse for wear. He ran his fingers on the brim.
“Find her, Captain Seward,” Clive Quarrie said, straightening. “My granddaughter is lost in the wild!”
“Yes, sir,” Seward answered huskily, positioning the hat on his head. “We’ll get her!”
Van Resen hefted his lamp by the handle on its sturdy metal housing and with Jacob in tow charged after Captain Seward. They would search the open space north of the yurt and work toward the jungle, each of them reassured by the big pistol the ranger carried in his hand.
The scientist still wielded his butcher knife, and Jacob looked formidable in the lamplight armed with an axe.
Mr. and Mrs. Quarrie stayed in the relative safety of the cabin to await the girl should she find her way back on her own, while Virginia reluctantly paired with Phillip Holmes to search the tall grasses south of the shelter.
Holmes carried a glass lamp as he ran at Virginia’s side. His other hand gripped a coal shovel—his weapon—and the governess carried a kitchen knife.
She did not feel safe with the young Englishman since Holmes had done little to inspire anything but contempt. He was a loafer...
...but that was the least of the man’s sins for his actions toward Virginia had shattered any chance of friendship with her.
The fact that he’d only made romantic overtures to her after Lilly spurned him had permanently marred the governess’ feelings toward him.
But, her fear for Lilly ruled her heart as she circled the yurt slipping through the long grass without concern for her own well-being.
“Where could she go?” Virginia breathed, unable to accept that the girl had disappeared from the very bed on which they had both slept. Lilly was not a sleepwalker, but a fever from her illness may have caused her to rise.
“Do you feel it? My God! I’m sure that someone’s watching us!” Holmes repeated the refrain in a shaky voice; his eyes were gleaming orbs in the yellow lamplight. “Wouldn’t it be wiser to wait for her inside?”
“The Quarries are there if she returns,” Virginia snapped. “Now cease your babbling. She may call out.”
The governess hurried ahead of him in the dark, painfully aware that she was wearing her nightdress and little else. The dew on the long grass had soaked the garment from her bare feet to above the knee where the wet material clung to her thighs.
With his lamp behind her, Holmes would have full view.
“Lilly!” she cried again, to push the thought from her mind. Now that Captain Seward had returned Phillip Holmes would pay for any indiscretion later.
An odor overpowered her senses then, and she halted where Van Resen’s mysterious moringa grove loomed before her.
“Maybe she’s in there!” Holmes gasped, panting to catch his breath. “If she is hiding.”
“It reeks!” Virginia scoffed. “She wouldn’t.”
“That smell’s not so bad at second pass—musty like an old scotch,” Holmes said pondering the hanging boughs.
“Don’t be foolish,” Virginia said, glancing back to catch the young man’s expression. His eyes had shifted from the trees to where the lamplight warmed her legs.
“The trees fill me with dread,” she said, certain that dim light glowed among their branches.
“Someone could hide in there—or if one required privacy...” Holmes offered, moving close behind her and setting a hand on her shoulder. “What do you think? We would be alone—and I’m here for you.”
“That’s a poor invitation and of precious little comfort,” Virginia answered, shaking the man’s hand off, and she hissed when his fingers clasped her elbow from behind. There was a flash of electric blue behind the bloated tree trunks, and she squinted—thinking it was Holmes’ unsteady lamp.
“Comfort I can give you, and—I know you’ve been watching me,” Holmes said, a deep timbre now echoing from his chest. “While the others work. A woman your age, unmarried, you must long for much more.”
“Leave me!” Virginia said, trying to draw away, but his hand tightened around her arm. Again she saw a flicker of light within the grove.
“I know you feel it too!” Holmes rasped huskily, his eyes crimson crescents in the lamplight. “We’ll be safe.”
Voices echoed distantly as Van Resen and
