Adra nodded and turned his horse back toward town.
The sheriff spurred his horse forward, his men in tow. The trail of hoof marks were deep in the underbrush of the wooded area, indicating a fast retreat, but quickly became almost impossible to follow. The sheriff put his hand up, and the men behind him stopped without a word. He motioned for Evan to head west, John to head east, and Joseph to join him toward the north—the most likely direction of retreat. “If you find something soon, whistle. If you don’t, meet back here in one hour.”
After thirty minutes of finding nothing to the north, Sheriff and Joseph headed back toward the meeting spot.
“What are you thinking, Sheriff?”
“Not sure what to think just yet, Joseph. Maybe it was an isolated event, but even if it was, we need to find whoever it was and bring them to justice, otherwise, no one’s safe.”
Joseph nodded. “The train is due tomorrow from the north. Do you think it could be related to the train robberies happening north of us? Could they be scouting this far?”
“I hope not. From what I’ve gleaned from Adra, this most recent grouping of robberies looks well organized—worst of all, the guys are violent and have killed several people without cause.”
They rode the rest of the way in silence and found Evan already at the meeting spot. “Any sign of John?”
“No, Sheriff. I just arrived, though, so he should be here shortly. I didn’t find anything indicating he left to the west.”
“We didn’t find anything to the north, either, but its dry and hard to pick up tracks once you’re out of the woods.”
Five more minutes passed, and the sheriff whistled. No response.
“Men, head back toward town. I’m going to head east and see if I can meet up with John.”
“Sure you don’t want one of us to join you, Sheriff? What if you meet with trouble?”
“I’ll be all right. Head back and check in on Jim, will you?”
“Yes, sir.”
The Sheriff rode for fifteen minutes, and stopped his horse, jumping down quickly. There was blood on the trail, and evidence of a skirmish. He whistled, just in case the men were still in ear shot, and then took off after the trail of two horses. He saw drops of blood sprinkled, and his gut clenched. He’d sent John to the east alone and it looked like he’d been taken. His guess that it had been a lone shooter must have been correct. The tracks disappeared again, but he searched the area for several minutes looking for any sign of the horses—but all traces had ended. He circled back to the last place he had seen the blood and tried to pick up their trail, but it seemed to have vanished.
He needed more men. They would have to set up a search party but wasting time after a cold trail wouldn’t help anyone. The sun leveled in his eyes, and he knew they would lose daylight soon. He turned his horse around. “Let’s go, boy, back to town as fast as you can go.”
Four
Just outside Kansas City, MO
One day to go. Claire sighed. Patience had never been a strong suit, and although the train was the fastest way to get to Texas, the constant chugging, boring landscape, and steam whistle had begun to irritate her beyond reason. She pulled out her book and opened it to the page she had already read three times before. Her mind was distracted. She felt unsettled, and a chill raced up her spine.
Glancing out the window, she noticed a cloud of dust in the distance, and then a group of horses came into view. Ranchers? She wondered, but as they drew closer she saw the guns. There were shouts from some of the other passengers, and she froze.
They always came for the obviously wealthy sleeping carriages first, isn’t that what her mother had told her? It’s why her mother had insisted that Claire bring an empty trunk lined with books at the bottom and a spare blanket.
The trunk! Claire struggled to breathe as fear narrowed her windpipe and a wave of nausea hit her stomach. She gagged. The thought of getting into the trunk… She gasped as the train brakes began to scream. She drew the curtains closed and shivered, scrambling toward the trunk and opening it. It looked so small inside, and what if it didn’t work? What if they found her anyway?
She climbed inside and made herself as small as possible, tossed the blanket over her back as well as she could and then tossed a few books over her head. They landed hard on her back. Then she realized there was still light above her. This would do no good! How was she supposed to lower the cover?
Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. Think, think! She scolded herself, pushing the blanket back from her head. She grabbed the outside edge of the heavy trunk cover and levered her other hand against the inside top, then lowered it as far as she could, positioned the blanket so that it covered her and tucked it around her. The books fell to her left, toward the latch, but there was nothing she could do about that now. She let her hand fall to her side, and the trunk closed with a snap.
She could hear the screams of passengers and thought she might pass out when the door burst open. Her air passage had cut off. Dizzy. Sheer fright swept through her and she fought the blackness as her legs disappeared beneath her. She wanted to move, needed her legs, but then images of her mother, sister, and brother floated before her eyes before the darkness overcame her.
* * *
“We can’t find her, Captain. We’ve searched the whole train. She isn’t in the dining car, and she isn’t in her Pullman.”
“Well, we know she wasn’t one of the hostages taken by the robbers, so search again!” the conductor yelled.
Claire moaned. Everything was dark around her, and she couldn’t feel her legs, but then it all came crashing back. She pushed up with her hands but the top of the trunk cover wouldn’t move. Her legs were useless, so she tried banging against the inside of the trunk. “H-help!” she called out weakly. “H-help me. I’m in here!”
The door to her car opened and the porter yelled, “She’s here, sir! She’s inside a trunk.” The porter rushed into her car and pulled the trunk cover open. “Are you all right, miss?”
Sweet oxygen poured into her mouth, filling her lungs. “My legs—my legs have fallen asleep and I can’t feel them. I can’t move them.” Panic edged her voice higher.
“It’s all right, miss, I’ll help you.”
“Porter, go get the doctor. I’ll help Miss Hawarden,” the conductor insisted, he entered the car, reaching inside the trunk to help Claire stand.
“I can’t stand, conductor. I can’t feel my legs—they’’ve fallen fast asleep.” Her hands shaking, she fought back the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes.
“That’s all right, miss. Don’t you worry. I’m just going to reach under you and lift you out,” he encouraged as he scooped under her and lifted her from the trunk, placing her on the bed.
“The other passengers—is everyone else safe?” she asked, her voice weak, the blackness threatening again. What if Mom was right?
“Porter! Where’s that doctor?” It was the last thing she heard.
* * *
“Doctor! Doctor Lee Jamison? You’re needed in a sleeping car!” the porter urged, shaking the doctor’s shoulder, who was leaning over a man with a gash in his cheek.
“Is it urgent, Porter? Can’t you see I’m already with a patient? We’ve set up triage for the ones with the most serious injuries. Bring the man to me.”
“It’s a woman, doctor.”
He looked up at the porter. “Was she shot?” His gray eyes read the porter’s unease, as he wrung his hands and stuttered, “N-not exactly, Doctor. It appears she has fainted.”
“Then she’ll live,” he added with finality.
“But, sir, the conductor…”
“Is the conductor a doctor, Porter?”
“No, Doctor.”
“All right then.” He turned back to the man in front of him. “This will need stitches, but you’re going to be okay. Porter, make yourself useful and bring all the medical supplies you can find back to me.”
“Yes, Doctor.”<
br />
As the porter reached the sleeping car area, the conductor called out, “Where’s that blasted doctor?”
“He’s not coming, sir. He-he doesn’t consider Miss Hawarden’s injuries to be as serious as the others. He wants us to bring her to him.”
“I don’t care what he wants. Miss Hawarden’s father is a major benefactor to the railroad, and she takes priority. Where is he? Never mind. I’ll go tell him myself. You stay here with her.”
“He’s in the dining car, sir. They set it up as triage—.” Before he could finish his sentence, the conductor stormed out the door. The porter turned to look at the woman. If it wasn’t for her chest rising and falling, he’d think she might be dead. Her face was pale, like porcelain, and her hair, a golden-red, splayed out on the bed, framing her head like an angel. His heart twisted in his chest. She was beautiful.
She groaned, and the porter jumped back. “M-Miss Hawarden, are you all right?” He wrung his hands. Should he go to her? She groaned again. Where was that blasted doctor?
“Water,” she managed.
“Yes, yes of course. I’ll be right back.” Grateful for the chance to escape, he raced back to the dining car, the conductor’s voice reaching his ears.
“I don’t care what you think, doctor. I need you in the Pullman now!”
“I will not leave patients who need urgent care to tend a woman who has fainted.”
“What if it’s something worse? What if she had a heart attack?”
“Did you speak with her?”
“Well, only briefly. She was hiding in a trunk. She couldn’t feel her legs, and then she collapsed.”
The doctor sighed and looked around the dining car. Most of the injuries had been tended to, and he supposed those that hadn’t, could wait. “Take me to her,” he demanded, picking up his medical bag and moving toward the dining car exit.
Five
The Jail
Bareglen Creek, TX
“What was this telegram that was so important, Hank?”
“It’s here, Sheriff.” Hank handed the telegram across the desk to the sheriff. Posters from the Most Wanted List covered the area behind the sheriff’s desk. Two had a big red X through them—those were the ones the sheriff had caught. The jail walls were white, the small open area contained two desks, a few chairs, and a narrow hall that lead to the jail cells. Functional. Today there was just one prisoner, Bob Stone, a regular from a bar fight at the Elkhorn Saloon from the prior night.
The sheriff picked up the paper, scanned the document and cursed under his breath. “I have a kidnapped deputy, another fighting for his life, a killer on the loose, and a posse to pull together—and these people think we have time to babysit some debutante from Philadelphia?”
“Not we, sir—you. They asked specifically for you, and the debutante is Claire Hawarden, Jim’s sister. Mary’s sister. The ‘these people’ you refer to? It’s Charles Hawarden—major benefactor of the railroad and several other endeavors that have impacted the west. Sir.”
Sully ran his fingers through his hair and rubbed his face. “When is she due?”
“On tomorrow’s train, Sheriff.”
The light was fading through the windows. “I’m heading to Doc’s to check on Jim. Wake Bob up and let him go, but first tell him if he pulls this again, he’s gonna have to start paying rent for a cell here in addition to repairs at the Elkhorn.” He paused before opening the door. “Oh, and Hank—” He turned back to face his deputy.
Hank held his gaze. It had taken time and practice to be able to do so. The sheriff had the most uncanny clear green eyes—Hank didn’t think there was a name for the color of ‘em, and the way he held your gaze made you think he was reading every thought flowing through your mind at that moment.
The sheriff’s lips turned up ever so slightly.
See? He could read minds.
“Find out where Adra Dudley is. I want to know everything the Rangers know about the train robberies, and any other potential shootings in our area. We need to pull some men together to expand the search for John Barker.”
Hank sobered. “Consider it done, Sheriff.”
* * *
The sheriff walked into Doctor Lance Holloway’s office; two rooms at the front of his home. He’d purchased the house two years ago when he accepted the offer to come to Bareglen Creek as the town doctor. He seemed content in this role, despite his big city education. And showed no interest in any of the few single women left in town—not that there were many—but it had become a bone of contention for the few that remained. The Doc? By all accounts, he appeared immune to it. He was a quiet man who kept to himself, but fortunately for the town, he was an excellent doctor.
Miss Melissa, the doctor’s assistant greeted Sully. “Good afternoon, Sheriff.”
“Miss Jones.” He removed his hat and nodded. “How’s Jim?”
Doc Holloway walked through the door, closing it quietly behind him.
“Sully,” he acknowledged.
“Hey, Lance, how’s the patient?” Worry creased Sully’s face, and he didn’t like the long pause before Lance Holloway spoke.
“Touch and go, but I think he’s going to make it. He’s one strong man.”
“You’re telling me.” Sully breathed a sigh of relief. “I think the man has nine lives, and I was literally counting the injuries I knew about on the ride back with him, hoping he hadn’t run out.”
Lance studied Sully. “You’re not looking so great yourself.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve got one man seriously injured, another kidnapped, and we just heard that a train was robbed on the way south from Philadelphia. Something about it doesn’t sit right. We’ve seen violent bands of robbers in the past, but these guys seem to get some kind of enjoyment from torturing people. There’s no identifiable pattern—nothing that’s giving us a clue as to who they are or where they came from.”
Doc Holloway remained silent, thoughtful. “You’ll be no good to anyone if you’re so exhausted you can’t function, Sully…”
Sully glared at the doctor—a glare that would make most men shrink, but the doctor wasn’t intimidated, not at all. In fact, his steel-blue eyes met the sheriff’s head on. “Even an hour or two will help.”
Melissa squirmed in her chair. You could cut the tension between these two men with a knife, and lucky her, she had to deal with them both on almost a daily basis. They were as different from one another as they were the same.
The sheriff was tall, dark hair, clean cut, muscled, handsome, and a good man—a smart man, but a stubborn one. Doc Holloway on the other hand was just as tall, trim, light-haired, and about as quiet as any man she’d ever seen. But insightful, and a skilled diagnostician. His quiet nature didn’t make him any less intimidating—oh no, if anything it made him more so. She’d been working with Doc Holloway for nearly three months now and still didn’t have him figured out.
Right now, the air was so thick, she wished one of them would give, so that she could breathe.
“I’ll take it under advisement, Doc.” Sully nodded. “Keep me posted on Jim.” And then he pivoted and walked back though the door, closing it decisively.
“Stubborn.” Doc Holloway breathed, turning to Melissa, who squirmed again under his scrutiny. She wasn’t sure this job was good for her health! Heat slowly spread up her face as he watched, and then the corners of his mouth turned up.
Her eyes narrowed—the gall of him standing there staring at her when he could clearly see she was uncomfortable! She raised an eyebrow. “Is there anything I can do to help with Jim?” she redirected. “Mary should be here shortly.”
His steel-blue eyes held hers, and her breath caught in her throat as his eyes made their way down to the base of her neck where her pulse was throbbing. He looked away, seemingly unaffected. “I’m not sure he’s ready for visitors. Let me know when she arrives, and I’ll reassess then.”
She frowned. There would be no keeping Mary out of that room—she loved Jim an
d was worried sick about him. His injury combined with the added pressure she had at the farm, now managing it alone, would be enough to make even a strong, fierce woman nearly unstoppable. Especially one like Mary. Melissa wasn’t at all sure she could handle more excitement in this day, but at least she could say her job wasn’t boring.
Six
Somewhere between Kansas City, MO and Texas
Who could be so important that the conductor insist he leave wounded passengers to attend to her? Lee Jamison's mind sorted through prioritizing the remaining injured when he returned to the dining car—now a makeshift hospital.
Then he thought about those who had been captured by the robbers and doubted that anyone would see them again based on the brutality he had witnessed against those who had survived. He wondered why the bandits backed away from him when they found out he was a doctor—or rather their apparent leader demanded that he be left alone. There had been something that flashed across the leader’s hard black eyes—the only thing not covered by his bandana—when he told them he was a doctor and begged them to take what they needed and leave the people alone. Was it pain? Recognition?
“Here we are, Doctor. This is her car.” The conductor interrupted his thoughts.
“Very well.” He turned to look at both men. “Well, carry on. I don’t need you babysitting. Surely you have better things to do in light of what we’ve all just been through.”
“Porter, you wait outside in case the doctor needs something. I’m headed to the engine room to see when we can get this train back on track.”
“Yes, conductor.”
Recognition dawned when Lee walked through the door of the sleeping car. It was Claire Hawarden, the esteemed and highly sought debutante from Philadelphia. He had only glimpsed her from afar, because although a graduate of the University of Pennsylvania, that achievement was a result of his brains and not his family’s money or lack thereof. He’d seen Claire at several functions co-sponsored by the university and Bryn Mawr, the liberal arts college she had attended.
Lawfully Charmed_Texas Lawkeeper Romance Page 2
