by Stacy Henrie
Lawman in Disguise
Getting taken hostage by a gang of train robbers wasn’t in dime novelist Essie Vanderfair’s plans, but interviewing these men could make her career soar. Especially since the gang includes legendary outlaw Tex Beckett, better known as the Texas Titan. Tex is famed for his protection of women and children, so she’ll be fine...right?
Keeping the gang in line was hard enough before a stubborn, beautiful writer interfered. Now Tex is scrambling to keep Essie safe, to gather evidence against the gang and most of all to hide his dangerous secrets. First, that he’s a detective working undercover. And second, that he’s not the Texas Titan at all, but Tex’s twin brother, Tate Beckett.
Tate Beckett’s jaw was clenched so tight he thought it might snap.
If he wasn’t careful, this woman, with all her probing questions, would figure out he wasn’t the Texas Titan after all. Then his covert work, posing as his outlaw twin brother, would be finished.
No. He wouldn’t let her ruin his plans. Not when he was on the most important case of his career.
“If she comes,” Tate announced, “she rides with me.”
Fletcher shrugged. “Fine. The three of you will head northwest. Silas and Clem know the way to the camp.”
“Where are they going?” Essie asked, her eyes following the other two men.
“We’re splitting up. No one will suspect two or three men riding together, when they’re looking for five.”
“Ah. Very clever.”
He reached a hand down to help her up, frustration churning in his gut. His focus would have to be divided between paying attention to the trail to the gang’s hideout and playing nursemaid.
“Thank you,” she said brightly as he pulled her onto the horse. As she situated herself behind him, she managed to jab him with the handle of her valise—twice.
It was going to be a long ride.
Stacy Henrie has always had a love for history, fiction and chocolate. She earned her BA in public relations before turning her attentions to raising a family and writing inspirational historical romances. The wife of an entrepreneur husband and a mother to three, Stacy loves to live out history through her fictional characters. In addition to author, she is also a reader, a road trip enthusiast and a novice interior decorator.
Books by Stacy Henrie
Love Inspired Historical
Lady Outlaw
The Express Rider’s Lady
The Outlaw’s Secret
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STACY HENRIE
The Outlaw’s Secret
God giveth power to the faint; and to them that have no might he increaseth strength...
—Isaiah 40:29
For M.
I hope you know, as Essie comes to, that your optimistic, bright nature is a beautiful gift.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
Dear Reader
Excerpt from The Bounty Hunter’s Baby by Erica Vetsch
Chapter One
Near Medicine Bow, Wyoming, 1892
The squeal of the train wheels jerked Essie Vanderfair’s attention from the doodles and half-formed thoughts scribbled inside her notebook to the window beside her. Nothing but hills of sagebrush and late-morning sunshine met her curious gaze. They shouldn’t be stopping yet. But even as the thought entered her mind, the locomotive shuddered to a halt.
Impatience brought a frown to her lips. She still had hours to go before she reached her room at the boardinghouse in Evanston, where she planned to stay sequestered until her next brilliant dime-novel idea presented itself. Most of what she had in her notebook wouldn’t create the successful novel her publisher wanted.
“I wonder why we’ve stopped,” her seatmate remarked, bouncing her drooling baby on her lap.
The little boy was every bit as handsome as his mother was beautiful. Her lovely chestnut hair and sky-colored eyes reminded Essie of her three older sisters. She looked nothing like them with her blond hair and muddy-green eyes.
A twinge of envy wound its way around her heart at the lovely picture the mother and babe made. That might have been her, if Harrison hadn’t decided she wasn’t serious enough or committed enough to make a suitable wife.
Not serious enough about life. How many times had she heard those words? Not just from Harrison but from her own family, too. But Essie had gotten revenge as far as her old beau was concerned. The villain in her last dime novel had sported the name Harris and the same pointy nose and mustache as the man she’d once fancied herself in love with.
Movement out the window caught her eye and she leaned closer to the glass. Five riders with bandannas over their mouths and noses rode toward the stalled train.
Her heart galloped as she realized who they must be. “It appears...” She wet her dry lips. “That we are being accosted by train robbers.”
She hadn’t spoken loudly, but the man in front of them clearly heard her anyway. “Train robbers,” he bellowed. Panicked murmurs swept through the passenger car.
“Oh, my,” the babe’s mother cried, her face draining of color. She clutched her child to her bosom. “Whatever do they want?”
“Money, most likely.” Essie stuffed her notebook into her valise, anxious to be ready for whatever lay ahead. “Although they might wish to take a few women along as hostages, as well.”
Like in The Train Robber’s Bride, the latest dime novel from her professional nemesis Victor Daley. It seemed whatever story line Essie pursued, Mr. Daley came up with a similar one but achieved much greater success. If only she could think of an idea that would scoop his...
The woman’s face had grown even paler. “At least I have a child,” she murmured. “They won’t take a woman with a baby.”
“Either way—” Essie snapped her valise shut “—I won’t let them hurt you or your child.” Lowering her voice, she explained. “I have a derringer in my boot.” She wiggled her shoe for emphasis. Not that one gun would be a match against five, but at least it was something.
Her seatmate looked askance. “Whatever do you own a gun for? Do you know how to use it?”
Essie couldn’t help laughing, in spite of the tense situation. “Ma’am, I was raised on a ranch and now live on my own in a city. I know my way around a great many weapons. Now switch me seats.”
Speechless, the woman rose and sank into the vacated spot as Essie slid toward the aisle. Please watch over us, Lord, in this most unorthodox situation. Or could this be the Lord’s working in her life already? Maybe this was an answer to her prayer to help her write a more exciting tale than Mr. Daley. But would it be good enough to erase the troubled frown she’d seen on her publisher’s face during her recent visit to Ohio?
“Look, Miss Vanderfair,” he’d said, peering over the top
of his glasses at her. “You have talent, more so than any other female whose work I’ve read. But we can’t afford to publish more of your stories. Not unless your next one can outsell the likes of Mr. Daley.”
The remembrance of those ominous words set her pulse kicking faster with dread than seeing the train robbers. She needed a new story that would be a guaranteed success—and soon. Otherwise she’d have to go back to the ranch and admit defeat. Wouldn’t her siblings crow over that one?
Just one little idea, Lord. That’s all I ask.
A train robbery wasn’t a bad place to start. The door to the passenger car opened with a clatter, she mused, composing in her head. She’d pen it down in her notebook later. The devastatingly handsome train robber stepped inside, his black gaze keen as it swept the passengers, finally alighting on the beautiful, demure heroine. Her heart beat wildly in her throat as their eyes locked. What did he—
Someone screamed, jerking Essie’s thoughts back to reality. A man stood in the doorway at the front of the car. But instead of the tall, handsome hero of her imagination, the man blocking the doorway stood at five feet tall and sported what must be a bulbous nose beneath his bandanna. Essie smirked. Real life was never as interesting as fiction.
“Sorry to keep ya, folks,” the man said in a tone that implied anything but regret. “We’ll get you movin’ on in a short lick. But for now, just sit tight while we work.”
“What does that mean?” an older woman across the aisle whispered loudly to her husband.
He glared at the robber. “It means they’re likely going to blow up the train’s safe.”
Several gasps followed the man’s pronouncement, but Essie let out a sigh of relief. If their focus was the safe then the robbers would probably leave the passengers alone. Essie patted the sleeve of her seatmate in reassurance. “We’ll be on our way soon.” If the conductor wasn’t harmed.
“Has any injury come to the train conductor?” she bravely asked the robber.
He chuckled. “The conductor and that guard’ll be right as rain once they come to. The Texas Titan don’t like roughin’ people up too much.”
The Texas Titan was here? On her train? Essie had read plenty of newspaper articles about the man and his legendary outlaw career. He usually worked alone, though. Why had he joined this gang? She wished she could ask him. An interview with a real-live outlaw, or five, would provide any novelist with a gold mine of research.
And give her a leg up on the competition.
Essie’s eyes widened at her own bold idea. The men weren’t likely to talk to her on the train, where she’d be slowing down their getaway. Would she be able to convince them to take her with them? More important, did she dare attempt such a harebrained scheme?
Her publisher’s dire prediction ran through her head again: “We can’t afford to publish more of your stories...”
But her next story was sure to be a success if she included firsthand accounts from these men.
“I’m going to do it,” she whispered to herself. She had her gun and the Texas Titan was known for his benevolent treatment of women and children. She’d be safe with him.
“I’m going to get off here,” she told the woman beside her. “But you and your baby will be fine.”
“You’re going to what?” The woman’s eyes bulged with shock.
Essie didn’t bother answering, afraid her seatmate would try to talk her out of her plan. Instead she shot to her feet and walked toward the robber manning the door.
“Excuse me, might I have a word?”
He blinked in confusion then scowled. “Get back to your seat, ma’am.”
“First, I have a request.”
“We ain’t gonna take no hostages, if that’s what you’re frettin’ about. So sit back down.” His hand rose to touch the Colt revolver sticking out of the holster at his waist. Essie fought a smile. A little distraction and his gun would be in her hand before he’d even noticed she’d moved. She’d learned that trick from a lawman while writing The Deputy’s Destiny. But she would only attempt it if necessary. She would try reasoning and friendliness first.
“Very kind about the hostages, but I’m in need of a different act of generosity.”
His bushy eyebrows rose. “I don’t know what you’re playin’ at...”
“I’m not playacting.” Essie sniffed. “I’m a writer.”
The man choked on a laugh. “A writer? What’s a woman doing writin’?”
She ignored the insult, though it echoed the question she’d been asked over and over again by well-meaning friends and family for the last three years. “I’ve decided I would like to go with you and your gang. For research purposes.”
“Research?” He scratched at his forehead beneath his cowboy hat. “What’re ya gonna research?”
“Your lives, your motivations, your goals.” She smiled fully, the last of her hesitation melting away. “I want to know why you do what you do and how you do it.”
He shook his head, his eyes clouding with confusion. “I gotta talk to Fletcher first. He’s the bo—”
A thunderous boom shook the car. Essie gripped the nearest seatback to stay upright as cries of horror split the air. Clearly, the robbers had blasted open the safe. The robbery was almost over. If she didn’t finish convincing one of these men to let her come along, they’d leave without her. And her chance to keep publishing would surely disappear with them.
“Nothin’ to fret about, folks,” the robber said, yelling over the chaos erupting inside the train car. “We’re nearly done.”
Hoping she might have more success speaking with a different robber, Essie took advantage of the man’s diverted attention and dashed through the door behind him. She hadn’t gotten more than a foot, though, when she crashed into a solid body exiting the opposite car.
“What are you doing out of your seat?” a deep voice growled in her ear.
“I’m sorry.” She clung to the railing to steady herself. “I’m trying to...”
Her voice faded into silence as she lifted her chin and found herself peering into piercing blue eyes. She’d always been rather tall for a girl, and yet her head only came to this man’s nose. He wore a hat like his companion, but his bandanna had slipped off his face, allowing her a clear view of his chiseled features. Features she knew at once. This was the Texas Titan.
She was already imagining the handsome train robber she would pattern after him for her new story, the one who would sweep the heroine into his arms and carry her away...
Except he didn’t seem intent on carrying anyone away, let alone sweeping a woman into his arms. Instead he gripped Essie’s elbow, hard, and spun her back toward the door she’d burst through. “You need to return to your seat. Now!”
Essie dug her heels in. “I’m afraid you don’t understand. I’m coming with you.”
“What?” he choked out, his dark eyebrows arching.
“Yes. I explained everything to your companion there...”
“Clem,” he supplied, his firm expression unwavering.
“Yes, Clem. And he said—”
Clem hurried to join them, pulling his own bandanna away from his mouth. “Sorry, Tex. She wanted to talk to Fletcher.”
“So you really are the Texas Titan?” Her cheeks heated when she heard the breathless awe in her voice.
The Texan dropped her arm and gave a curt nod. “One and the same.”
“Have you given up working alone?” No time like the present to get her first few questions in.
His eyes narrowed as he scowled. “For the time being. Now, let’s get you back to your seat.” He resumed his clasp on her elbow.
“But I’m not going back to my seat. As I said, I’m going with you.”
“And I say you aren’t.” He maneuvered her past his troubled-looki
ng partner. “This isn’t some parlor game, young lady,” he hissed. “All of these men are armed and dangerous.”
She furrowed her brow, annoyed. As if she didn’t know who or what she was dealing with. “Including yourself?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You are also armed and dangerous, are you not? You said ‘these men’ as if you aren’t a part of them.”
The Texan shook his head, annoyance rippling off him like heat waves. “I can’t waste any more of my time arguing with you. Will you please—”
His entreaty disappeared beneath the commotion of approaching horses. The other three robbers rode up to the train, leading two riderless mounts behind them. “What’s the holdup?” one of them hollered. “We gotta go before that guard recovers.”
Essie seized the opportunity. “Which of you gentlemen is called Fletcher?”
“Who’s askin’?” The tallest of the three stared hard at her, his gray-blue eyes cold and calculating. She’d have to keep an extra watch on him.
“I’m a writer,” she answered, drawing herself up to full height and maintaining her own level gaze. “I would like to interview you. All of you. I would like to immortalize your lives in fiction.”
Fletcher gave a smirk. “Very flattering, lady, but we’re on a schedule.” He wheeled his horse around. “Clem? Tex? You comin’ or not?”
“Wait.” She moved to the railing, her valise clutched tightly against her chest. “My name is Essie. Essie Vanderfair.”
The name stopped the gang leader at once, as she’d known it would. “Vanderfair?” He looked her over with blatant interest. “You related to Henry Vanderfair? The railway tycoon?”
Essie dipped a nod. “He’s my great-grandfather.” It was the truth, though she hadn’t ever met the man or spoken with him.
“Fletcher,” the Texan interjected from behind, “let’s go. Leave her be.”
The man pushed up the brim of his hat. “Hold on a minute there, cowboy. We might be lookin’ at a real nice ransom if we bring her along. I heard the Vanderfairs have more money than Rockefeller. And I’m sure they’d pay handsomely for the safe return of one of their own.” He turned to Essie as he added, “But only after you get your interviews.”
