“Worked just fine before,” Jim countered and grabbed the bottle from Warren’s hands. He took a long drink and slammed the bottle on the table causing a bit of the liquid inside to slosh onto the map.
Warren reached for the bottle, the legs of his chair settling back in place with a thud. “Unless we put an entire tree on the track, that train ain’t likely going to stop for no fire. We need to pull a rail.”
“Pull a rail?” Cullen’s younger brother, Ben asked.
“Remove part of the track,” Warren said, taking another pull from the bottle.
“Why would you want to do that?”
Cullen groaned inwardly. Their father had always said Ben was a simpleton that asked too many questions. His willingness to follow orders, along with his considerable size and strength, made him an asset in many other ways though. The Morgans had built quite a reputation and Cullen knew Frank had ridden with them down to Lincoln County earlier in the year to ride with the Regulators after their brother, Virgil Morgan, had been killed. They were well known for their hair-trigger tempers. He watched as Warren looked Ben up and down, clearly sizing him up, and brought his hand down to rest on his thigh, closer to his gun.
Warren took another pull from the bottle and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “It’ll derail the train. Gives us plenty of time to hit the express car.”
Ben’s mouth hung open while he processed that information, and Cullen said a quick prayer that he wouldn’t ask any more questions.
Warren ran his finger along the line on the map that represented the train track and stopped at a curve. “If we pull a rail just after this curve, the engine man won’t see it in time to brake. Train will come off the tracks for sure. Jim and I can get the money out of the express car, and the rest of you can get what you can from the passengers. We’ll meet back here after and divvy it up.”
“Not so fast,” Frank cut in, his eyes narrowed into slits. “There’s supposed to be a lot of money on that train. Ain’t no way you both,” he gestured to Warren and Jim, “are goin’ in there alone.”
Jim curled his lip. “You sayin’ you don’t trust us?”
“I’m sayin’ you can hit the passenger cars with Cullen and Ben. I’ll go with Warren in the express car.”
The two men stared at each other for a long moment. Warren finally grunted his approval, and Cullen moved his arm back onto the table.
“We’ll ride over there at first light and check the track. The train is supposed to come through at 11. Don’t want to pull the track too soon, but from this point,” he pointed to a bluff near the curve of the track on the map, “we can see it coming.”
Cullen didn’t like this. He’d done plenty of things he wasn’t proud of, but he’d never put anyone’s life in danger but his own. He knew his brothers wouldn’t be quick to pull their guns, but a lot had changed since he’d been in prison and he didn’t trust the Morgans. Getting locked up for robbing a stagecoach or stealing a horse was one thing, but they’d hang for sure if people were killed while they robbed a train.
Cullen was no stranger to life on the wrong side of the law. His father, Lewis Parker, was a gambler that always seemed to be on the run from someone. Cullen was born in New York, but had lived in Indiana, Kansas and Colorado Territory before his family settled down in Missouri. It was there that the sins of Lewis’s past finally caught up with him and he was gunned down during a card game when he’d been caught with an ace up his sleeve. Frank had been fifteen at the time, Ben was thirteen and Cullen just eight. His mother, Adeline, had her hands full with the three rowdy boys and they often ran unchecked. Frank and Ben were expelled from school after they started it on fire, and were regularly brought home by the sheriff for stealing from the mercantile. Cullen usually tagged along with his brothers and even though he rarely participated in their criminal acts, was given the same reputation as them.
Adeline contracted tuberculosis and died when Cullen was twelve. His brothers joined the Confederacy with some of their friends and went off to fight in the War Between the States. Cullen was sent to live with an uncle in Kansas. His aunt and uncle had a brood of their own they could barely take care of and they looked at Cullen as more of a nuisance than anything. But he learned valuable carpenter and wood working skills while he lived there. When he was sixteen his brothers returned from the war. They were headed west to make their fortune in California and Cullen followed.
Once in California, they discovered that there was no quick fortune to be made. Frank met up with a friend from the war who told him about the success Jesse James had robbing banks back in Missouri. After scouting several banks, they determined the risk was too great and decided to rob a stagecoach, bringing Ben and Cullen in to help. Wells Fargo coaches carried the famed green treasure boxes, which contained gold dust, gold bars, and gold coins, among other items of value, and they usually didn’t have passengers. While the shotgun messengers hired to guard the coaches were crack shots, the group successfully robbed three of them. During the course of those robberies, not one person was shot nor were any passengers robbed.
It was during the fourth attempt that things went bad. Cullen hadn’t wanted to do it. He’d never felt right about it in the first place. Besides, he’d saved more than enough money and gold to buy some cattle and settle down. But Frank talked him into it. Told him he’d heard there were two green treasure boxes on this coach. He promised it would be the last time. Cullen never found out if there were two green boxes or not because not only were there shotgun messengers on the coach, but several more that rode about a half mile behind the coach. They had just gotten the coach stopped when the guards on horses came up on them and gunfire ensued. Frank and Ben managed to get away, but Frank’s friend was killed. It wasn’t until later that Cullen found out that Ben had also been shot, but managed to recover from his wounds.
Cullen, however, was captured. He hadn’t fired back, which saved him from the gallows, and he served four years out of a six-year sentence at San Quentin for robbery. He was pardoned upon release and vowed he’d never do anything to get himself put in prison again. He’d heard talk in San Quentin about gold being discovered in Dakota Territory and that’s where he went. He settled in a mining camp in Deadwood Gulch, but despite some success in panning, the growing town of Deadwood was rife with crime and he went back to Missouri in search of his family.
Upon locating them, Cullen was disheartened to learn his brothers were still up to no good. As he listened to the Morgan’s outline their cockeyed plan to rob a train, he knew for certain that he wanted no part of this kind of life. He remained quiet while the plan was agreed on. Later that night, after he was sure everyone was asleep, he slipped out and quietly saddled his horse, grateful the sounds of the nearby saloon masked any noise he made. He pulled the collar up on his coat and headed north.
Just before he’d left Deadwood earlier that year, he’d heard talk of a mine being built just south of there in a town called Lead, where a huge gold deposit had been found. The Homestake Mine was supposed to be a big operation and Cullen was sure he’d be able to get a job there. He had no desire to stay in Kansas or Missouri, and was washing his hands clean of his brothers. He still had a stash of gold nuggets that would be more than enough to set him up once he arrived back in the Black Hills.
Cullen rode into Sidney, Nebraska cold, weary and hungry. He stopped at the livery and made sure Ghost, his appaloosa mare, was settled and fed, giving the stable boy an extra dime to brush her down. There was a restaurant just down the street from the livery and Cullen walked toward it, passing a busy saloon on the way. The sounds of music and laughter drifted out of the door as he walked past, but he had no desire to go inside. He just wanted to fill his belly and get a room at the hotel for the night.
The restaurant was nearly full, but Cullen spied an empty table near the back. He could feel several eyes on him as he made his way to the table, but didn’t give it any mind. It was nice having a clean conscience and not ha
ving to worry about watching his back. A stout woman with red cheeks and kind eyes wearing a brown dress and stained white apron stopped at his table. She carried a pot of coffee and placed a tin cup on the table in front of him, filling it when he gave a nod of his head. Cullen gave her his order and sipped on his coffee while he waited. His stomach rumbled loudly when she returned with a plate heaped high with mashed potatoes and a thick steak, and she chuckled at him.
“You just passing through?” she asked, setting the steaming plate in front of him. “I don’t recognize you, not that I should,” she chuckled again. “Most folks don’t stay.”
Cullen nodded, he wasn’t up for small talk, but didn’t want to be rude. “Heading north.”
She lifted her eyebrows. “Oh, are you one of those grooms?”
Cullen frowned. “Grooms?”
“You know, heading to Last Chance. We’ve had a few of them catch the stagecoach here and head that way. Shame what happened.”
Cullen had no idea what she was talking about, but it piqued his interest. “What happened?”
The woman gave a quick glance around the room before she returned her gaze to his. “The blizzards, of course.”
Cullen furrowed his brow and shook his head, still not understanding. He knew there were a couple of bad blizzards in September, he’d just missed one on his way to Missouri, but wasn’t sure what that had to do with grooms.
“The town’s menfolk were apparently on a hunt when the blizzards came back in September,” she lowered her head and her eyes filled with sadness. “Killed them all, it did. I heard the women put an advertisement in the paper for mail order grooms. Can you imagine? A town with no men?” she shook her head. “Figured if you’re heading north this time of year, must be because you’re one of them grooms.”
Cullen shook his head. “No, I’m heading to Dakota Territory.”
She nodded and waved at a couple of men who had just sat down at a nearby table before turning back to Cullen. “That’s a shame, you’d make a fine husband for some woman,” she gave him a wink and sauntered off.
Cullen cut into his steak and took a bite, savoring the rich flavor. His thoughts wandered to what the waitress had said. A town with no men. What had she said the name of the town was? Last Chance? There’d bound to be jobs in a town where the menfolk had been killed. He had no interest in getting married, but maybe he could find a job and someplace to stay until spring, then continue to Dakota Territory. Plus, there was something about that name that called to him. Last Chance. By the time he finished his plate, he’d decided that is what he would do. If he couldn’t find work, he’d just continue on the Sidney-Deadwood Trail until he reached Lead.
Two days later, Cullen and Ghost rode into Last Chance. The town was larger than he’d expected, but he noticed most of the businesses he passed were closed. This made him even more optimistic about being able to find work. The mercantile was open and he tied Ghost to the post in front of the store. He held the door open as two women exited the store, staring curiously at him, and he could feel his face and neck grow warm.
He stepped inside and looked around. The store carried an impressive variety of items, and he selected a pouch of dried meat. A woman with a young girl clinging to her skirt smiled shyly at him before taking her purchases to the counter. Cullen wandered through the aisles, taking note of several items he’d return for if he were able to stay in the town. He made his way to the counter where an older gentleman with a full, dark moustache greeted him. At the end of the counter, a woman that Cullen assumed was the shopkeeper’s wife stood talking quietly to another woman wearing a thick felt coat.
He pulled a coin out of his pocket and handed it to the shopkeeper. “Any work around here?”
The man eyed him carefully before responding. “There is a board outside the butcher shop. Might be something posted there.” He slid a glance at his wife before handing Cullen his change.
“Much obliged,” Cullen nodded. He turned toward the women and tipped his hat before walking out of the store. He glanced down the street but didn’t see a butcher shop, so he climbed back in his saddle and rode toward the livery. He could see more stores down that road and it wasn’t long before he saw the butcher shop. He slid off Ghost and walked up to the wooden board that was nailed to the side of the building. Several small pieces of paper were attached to it, some were too weathered and worn to read, but one in particular caught his eye. It looked as though it had been placed there recently.
Wanted: honest and sober man to do repairs on farm for room and board. See R. Fulton. 1 mile west of church. Painted star on barn.
It was exactly what he was looking for.
Chapter Three
Ruby hefted the heavy axe over her head and closed her eyes as she brought it down on the small log, neatly splitting it in half. It was the last log on the pile. She rested the axe against the side of the barn and lifted her hands to inspect them. They were red and sore, and she could see blisters forming on her palms, but they weren’t bleeding and for that Ruby was grateful. She gathered the small pile and carried it into the cabin, placing it in the wood box next to the stove. It wasn’t enough to even fill it halfway and there was no more.
She shrugged out of her worn coat and hung it on the peg behind the door and sighed. It had been several days since she and Everett made the trip into town where she had placed a help wanted note on the board outside the butcher shop. There had been no response thus far. Ruby eyed the table. If she didn't come up with a solution soon, she'd have to start burning the furniture.
Everett sat on his pallet on the floor, the pink tip of his tongue sticking out as he concentrated on forming numbers on his slate. He was such a quiet boy, and Ruby couldn't help but wonder if he had always been that quiet or if it was because of the shock of losing his parents. As she watched him, a thought suddenly occurred to her.
"Everett, is there a woodpile at your house?"
The boy nodded his head without looking up.
Ruby chewed on her bottom lip for just a moment, wondering if what she was thinking was a good idea. Surely it wouldn't be wrong to use the wood, seeing as how Everett was now staying with her and no one else was using it, would it? At this point, it was the best option she had.
“Everett,” she crouched next to his pallet so she could look him in the eyes. “I’d like to go to your house to get some of the wood your dad cut.”
Everett’s pale brown eyes lifted and met hers. “Can I get my top?”
Ruby’s heart fell. He hadn’t mentioned he had any toys and she hadn’t thought to look for any when they made the brief stop there to get his clothing. “Of course you can,” she smiled as she fought back tears. “Along with anything else you want.”
They stopped in the barn to get the horse. Their wagon was too large for one horse to pull, but Ruby hoped the Henzel’s would have something she could use in order to get some of the wood home. She slipped a rope onto the horse's halter, and they made their way toward the Henzel's house. The sun was shining high in the sky and it reflected brightly off the snow. While the air was crisp, it was not particularly cold and it felt good to be out of the confines of the small cabin. Even Everett's mood seemed to brighten some as he walked alongside her.
As they approached the house and silent mill, Ruby could see a very large pile of wood, stacked neatly under a lean-to next to the barn and she felt lighter. There was more than enough wood to last through the rest of the winter, she just needed to find a way to get it back to her house. She slid open one of the barn doors and was delighted to see a sled inside. Hanging next to it on a hook was a harness and reins for a single horse. She studied them for a moment before lifting them down and taking them outside where Everett waited with the horse.
She’d watched Cyrus hitch their horses up many times, but had never done it herself. However, this harness seemed much simpler than the one they had, and she was confident she’d be able to manage it. The horse stood patiently while she fumbl
ed with traces and buckles until she had it situated properly. Then she went back into the barn, attached a thick rope to the front of the sled and pulled. It scarcely moved. She wrapped the rope around one of her hands and let it slide over her shoulder as she pulled again, heaving all of her weight forward. This time it moved a couple of inches.
“Miss Ruby, why don’t you bring Buckshot in here and hook him up?” Everett’s small voice stopped Ruby cold. All at once, she felt both incredibly relieved as well as incredibly foolish. She let the rope fall and turned to face the small child who was, at that moment, clearly more clever than she.
“Everett, that is a wonderful idea. Thank you for thinking of it. I don’t know what I would do without you,” she smiled gratefully at the boy, whose face shone with pride. Several minutes later she led Buckshot and the sled out of the barn, and brought them to a stop next to the woodpile. She tied the horse to the post of the lean-to and smiled triumphantly at Everett, who had been watching intently.
“Can I get my top now?” he asked, pointing at the house.
She glanced at the quiet house. As uncomfortable as it would feel to go inside, she had to remember that this had been his home and he had every right to be there. As his guardian, that meant she did too. At least that’s what she told herself as she nodded her head. She followed Everett into the small room behind the large fireplace that held his bed, and where they’d gotten his clothes. Ruby wished they could bring his bed to her house, but there was no room in the tiny home. She could, however, bring the blanket and pillow from his bed.
“Everett, would you like to bring your pillow home with us?”
He looked at her with wide eyes and smiled. “Yes, Miss Ruby, and my blanket too?”
She returned the smile. “Your blanket too.”
She helped him gather the bedding and set it on the table while she glanced around the tidy house. She saw a container of coffee, along with several other dry goods on a shelf next to the dry sink. She only hesitated for a few seconds before she placed them on the table too. The food would spoil if it was left here, and there was precious little food left at her house. She ran her hand along top of the large cook stove and wondered what it would be like to cook on such a fine appliance. The words of Exodus filled her mind, thou shalt not covet anything that is thy neighbor’s and she reminded herself to be grateful for the stove she had.
A Groom for Ruby Page 2
