Pemberley Ranch - Jack Caldwell [92]
Early on this particular day, a hunting party of Will Darcy, Richard Fitzwilliam, and Charles Bingley worked a field near a wooded area about three miles from the main house. All three carried double-barreled shotguns, but had neither beaters nor dogs. Will did not own any hunting dogs, and he would not use his employees to scare up game. Still the sport had been productive and each man had bagged his share.
“You’re a fair shot, for a doctor,” Fitz observed as the three took their ease, sharing a flask with their lunches.
“Not as good as you,” Charles said. “Did you miss any? I would swear you didn’t.”
“If you think that was good, you should see Fitz with a rifle,” Will grinned. “I’ll bet if we made him use a Winchester instead of a shotgun, he’d still bag as many birds.”
“Naw, you don’t want to do that,” Fitz drawled. “Wouldn’t leave much o’ the bird left to eat, an’ then Miz Reynolds would have my hide.”
“You scared of Will’s cook?”
“Nope. Scared she’d quit him, and then the other hands will get sore and come after me!”
Will laughed. “You’re right about that. Mrs. Reynolds has a lot of friends in the bunkhouse.”
The men continued talking until Fitz suddenly stood up. “Hear that?”
“What?” Darcy started, before he did hear, faintly.
“Mr. Darcy! Mr. Darcy!” came from a distance away.
“Sounds like Peter,” Fitz judged.
Will nodded, got to his feet while pulling his Colt, and fired three rounds in the air. Alerted by the sound, the Pemberley rider found them in short order. Darcy was surprised at Peter’s companion—a very distraught Beth.
“Mr. Darcy,” Peter called as they came to a halt. “Miss Bennet here needs to talk to Doc Bingley.”
“Good God, what’s the matter?” Darcy exclaimed as he half-ran to Turner. Beth’s face was dirty, as dust clung to the tears she had undoubtedly shed earlier. He took the paint’s reins and held up a hand to help Beth dismount. Charles was right on Darcy’s heels.
Beth allowed Will to help her down before saying, “Charles, you have to come home, please—”
Bingley turned white. “Jane? Susan? My God, has anything happened?”
“No, no!” Beth cried in a mixture of grief and frustration. “They’re fine! It’s Lily! She’s gone—missing! We think she’s run away!”
Will had not released Beth’s hand and his grip tightened. “Are you sure?”
“Yes—no—we don’t know! She’s just gone! She went to bed last night, but she wasn’t there this morning! We’ve been looking all over for her!”
“Come sit down, Beth. Do you need anything? Some water? We’ve got water. Or maybe something stronger?”
“No, nothing please. Just let me catch my breath.”
“You know anything?” Fitz asked Peter.
“No. Miss Bennet come ridin’ up to Pemberley, wantin’ to talk to the doc. She said there was a family emergency. Miss Gaby told me to find y’all, an’ Miss Bennet insisted on comin’ along. Don’t know about any missing girl.”
Will sat down next to Beth and took her hands in his. “What’s been done to find Lily?”
Beth stared into Will’s caring eyes. “Father and I rode to town to get Charles. Jane said he was here, so I went on to get him. Father’s gone to Sheriff Lucas.”
“Has there been any sign of her?”
“No. No note. Just that one of our horses is missing. It was Lily’s horse.”
“Has Lily said anything about meeting somebody? Was she sweet on some fellow?”
“No. There’s been no one.”
“All right. Do you need anything right now?”
She shook her head. “No. I have to get back to Charles’s place—Father will be waiting for me there.”
“Then, I won’t detain you.” Will stood up and began barking orders. “All right. Fitz, I want you to ride back to Pemberley and begin assembling a search team. Saddle up anyone we can spare. Make sure they’re armed. We don’t know what’s happened to Lily, if she’s been kidnapped or not.”
“Will, she took her own horse,” Fitz pointed out.
“I heard that, and maybe she did ride out to meet somebody, and maybe she changed her mind. It’s happened before,” Will shot back. “We’re not taking any