by Liliana Hart
“See ya,” Agatha said, and moved over to the piles of cash they’d spread out on the desk, thumbing through a stack.
Cornbread’s eyes never left the money, and he licked his lips once before stepping back inside the cell and closing the door behind him.
“How you gonna keep me alive?” he asked.
“We find Coil, and then we’ll talk about you,” she said. “He’d better be alive, or else.”
“That wasn’t part of the deal, lady.”
“You telling me he’s dead?” she asked, raising a brow.
Agatha held her breath. She didn’t want to look away or at the others. She could only imagine what was going through their minds, and she couldn’t afford to show Cornbread any weakness or emotion.
“I’m just saying that wasn’t part of the deal,” he said. “I don’t know if he’s dead or alive. All I know is that McIrish shot him, and that Ranger fell off his horse just before clearing the tree line toward Golden Eagle Pass.”
“Why’d McIrish shoot him?” Hank asked, interrupting.
Agatha stepped back. She was growing fatigued with the high level of stress involved in the cat and mouse game of mental manipulation. She also knew that it was important for a sworn law enforcement officer to take information regarding the possibility of a murder committed by Dillon McIrish.
“We watched them as they headed toward Austin,” Cornbread said. “We waited until they got into no-man’s land before we ambushed them, and once they rode into Golden Eagle, old Cactus gave the signal. He’s second in command.”
“Signal to what?” Hank pressed.
Cornbread leaned against the metal bars. He nodded for some water. It had turned stuffy inside the jail with everyone huddled around and only a slight breeze wafting through an open window. Hank motioned for Springer to fetch the tin cup and fill it with water.
“Thanks, Sheriff,” Cornbread nodded.
“Marshal,” Hank clarified. “Now what was it that Cactus signaled?”
“That Ranger never really had a chance. We’d had him surrounded for two days. We moved in like we was told to do, and I grabbed Dillon and cut him loose from the Ranger’s saddle grip. Easy as pie.”
“Then what?”
Cornbread chugged the last of the warm water. He stretched his thick arm through the narrow openings and shook the cup for more. He flapped his vest to fan himself as he shaded his eyes from the sunlight’s glare.
“The Ranger put up a good fight, and broke through the circle as the horses started rearing up. I thought he was actually going to make it to the tree line, but McIrish grabbed the rifle from my saddle bag and got a bead on him.”
“Did you see him go down?” Hank asked.
“He fell to the right,” Cornbread said. “McIrish never misses. The horse dragged him a ways and we lost sight of ‘em. We didn’t bother recovering the body.”
“Golden Eagle is a huge area,” Hank said, motioning for Springer to hand Cornbread the refill. “Where exactly did y’all set up the ambush?”
The bandit poured the tin cup of water over the top of his bushy head. His hair still stood up on its ends as trickles of moisture snaked across his face.
“The last I saw your friend was just around—”
The crack of a rifle sounded and a single bullet ripped through the open window and struck Cornbread in the hollow of the throat. There wasn’t much meat or blood there, so all it did was make a pinprick sized hole going in, but a much larger exit wound.
Cornbread gasped and clasped both hands around his neck, and then dropped dead inside the dingy cell.
Springer drew his pistol as he crouched by the window.
“No need, son,” Hank said, getting a clear view of the trail of dust as the horses sped away. “They’re long gone.”
“We gotta get out to Golden Eagle,” Agatha said.
“Yeah,” Hank said, nodding. “And before they hunt us down. They’re going to be right angry they’re not getting their hands on this money.”
Chapter Six
Hank formed a search posse and they made plans to ride out toward Golden Eagle Pass before sunrise. He was aware they’d be tracked by the Copper Cove Boys, but if there was even the slightest hope of Coil being alive, they had to make a go of it. The other option was to stay in town and become stationary targets to be picked off by McIrish.
As soon as Cornbread had been killed, Hank sent a telegram to the Texas Rangers for help. If he pulled his crew out to search for Coil, McIrish would ransack the town within a day. No, Hank was well aware of how McIrish operated. He was a terrorist, and whether he was operating in the current age or in the future, McIrish was vicious.
Reliable as ever, Texas Rangers, Will Ellis and Jason Whitehorse, arrived to accompany James, Springer, Karl, Agatha, and Hank out to Golden Eagle Pass. Ellis also arranged for five soldiers from the state militia to hold down the fort in San Antonio until they returned. James and Karl had split off from the group, circling back to see if they were being tracked.
“Y’all doing okay back there?” Hank asked Agatha and Springer.
They’d loaded the wagon with food, ammo, and medical supplies, and Agatha and Springer were guiding the horses. When they found Coil, they knew he’d either need medical treatment or a hearse.
“We’re trying our best to keep up,” Agatha called back, the aggravation in her voice clear.
Hank laughed. He knew how stubborn she was. She’d wanted to ride, but she’d drive that buggy as long as it meant proving she could keep up, and often outdo, most men.
“So, when you two gonna get hitched?” Will asked in a whisper.
Hank jerked the reins out of reflex and his horse jerked his head in response. Then he glanced back over his shoulder, but Agatha was far enough back that she’d never overhear their conversation.
“Why do you ask?”
“It’s kind of obvious.” Will said, chuckling. “I can’t believe she hasn’t proposed to you. She doesn’t seem like the patient sort.”
Hank felt the heat rise in his cheeks. She had proposed. He’d totally forgotten. And he hadn’t given her an answer.
Will laughed again. “She did, didn’t she? I knew it.”
“Shh,” Hank said. “She’ll hear you. How’d you know?”
“You ain’t the only one trained to read people. You’re guilty as charged,” Will said. “Why don’t you just go ahead and say yes?”
Hank fumbled around his saddle for his canteen, and guzzled a swig of water. His mouth was dry as dust.
“It ain’t right for her to ask me,” he said. “I want to be the one to ask her.”
“Then why haven’t you?”
“Not sure,” Hank said. “I love her, but I worry about bad things like this situation and bad people like Dillon McIrish, and what that could do to a marriage.”
“Hank, I know you still blame yourself for your wife’s murder, but there was no way you could’ve known what would happen. It’s not your fault.”
Hank had no idea how Will had known about Tammy, but he felt himself stiffen at the mention of her name. He’d spent years trying to let go of the past, and he thought he’d succeeded, but every now and then it snuck up on him.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said. Hank nudged Beemer’s flank with his heel and the horse trotted up ahead of Will, moving through the convoy until he caught up to Whitehorse. He wasn’t the talkative type like Will. Whitehorse was all business.
“How’s it going?” Jason asked.
“Not you too?” Hank asked with a sigh.
“Huh?” Jason asked, shaking his head. “What did I do?”
“Sorry. I need to go back and apologize to Will.”
“You seem rattled,” Whitehorse said. “I’ve never seen you like this. Are you okay? Besides that goose egg on your forehead, I mean.”
“I’m fine,” Hank said. “Will brought up Tammy, and I didn’t handle it well.”
“Who’s Tammy?” he asked.
“Tammy was my wife. She was killed while trying to catch a very bad guy.”
“Why was she trying to catch a bad guy?” Jason asked. “You’re the marshal.”
Hank forgot there were no women in law enforcement yet. “She just got caught up in the wrong place at the wrong time. Will was reassuring me that it wasn’t my fault, but honestly, I still blame myself.”
“Did you kill her?” Whitehorse asked.
“Of course not!” Hank said, appalled.
“Did you know she was going to be killed?” Jason asked.
“I knew it was a possibility. It always is.”
“Are you God?”
“What?” Hank asked, staring at him. “That’s crazy.”
“Then how could you have known?” Jason asked. “Stop playing God and pretending that you have the power over life and death.”
“I’m not playing God,” he said. “I just feel guilty.”
“Guilt is a choice,” Whitehorse said. “You can choose to feel guilty or you can forgive yourself and move forward with Tammy’s memories that honor her life and her legacy. It’s your choice.”
“Easy?” Hank questioned.
“That’s a choice too, Hank.”
“So I’m just supposed to forget about Tammy and move on?”
“You can never forget, and no one should expect you to. She’s a part of who you are. Tammy is not a thing of the past, but a living memory that you get to honor as you choose. But you can move on. If you marry Agatha, then the man Agatha gets to know will have been influenced by the woman you were once married to,” Whitehorse explained. “Does that make any sense?”
Hank swallowed hard. The saddle rocked and shifted beneath him, but he wasn’t feeling the physical affects as much as he felt the immediate need to apologize to Will and take care of long overdue business with Agatha.
“Yeah,” he said. “It does.”
“When you marry Agatha you can take what you learned from your first marriage, but Agatha isn’t Tammy and she never will be. Make sure you’re marrying Agatha for her, and not because you’re still in love with the past.”
Hank nodded and pulled the reins so he circled back to where Will was riding.
“You back?” Will asked.
“I’m sorry,” Hank said. “It’s a sore spot.”
“I understand, old friend, but out here you can’t allow emotion to rule you. We’re being tracked by outlaws, and when they decide to ambush us, we need to know that everyone has their head on straight.”
Hank felt the bitter sting of being chided by a peer. But he deserved it. After all, Will’s concern was keeping everyone alive. Including himself. Hank wouldn’t have allowed any distractions on high-risk operations, yet here he was the most distracted of the group.
“Sorry,” he said again. “And, you are right. It’s time to ask her.”
“Ask her what?” Agatha called out from behind him.
Hank jumped in his saddle. He looked over his shoulder and there was Agatha and Springer trotting along at an even clip with the horses. Hank hadn’t noticed they’d come out of the rocky terrain and onto a flat stretch. And open area meant they were sitting ducks waiting for an ambush.
He heard the rumble of horse’s hoofs coming from behind them. If the bandits had decided to launch their attack at that point, it was a grave mistake without the element of surprise.
Will gave the order to take fighting positions. Hank watched as Agatha and Springer rolled off the right side of the wagon to place the structure in between them and whoever was charging.
“Hold the line until they make that corner,” Will ordered. “If it’s hostile, open fire at will.”
Hank had joined Will and Jason as they flanked each side of the wagon. It would be everyone’s best chance of protection. Hank glanced at Agatha as he leveled his rifle at whomever was charging up from behind, but she had her rifle up and ready. Lord, she was a sight to behold. He’d never met anyone like her, and he was crazy for not getting her to the altar as soon as he could.
Suddenly, two riders breached the trees and came into the open. They rode fast and hard, and Hank sucked in a breath and steadied his finger on the trigger. As they drew closer, he realized. It was Karl and James.
“Hold fire,” he said. “It’s Karl and James.”
They’d been riding separately from the group to keep an eye on the Copper Cove Boys. The plan was to surround them if they made a play for the wagon, but whatever it was that had caused them to break ranks must’ve been serious. They were panting as hard as their horses.
“What’s going on?” Hank asked, looking to see if there were other riders behind them. “Y’all okay?”
“Marshal, it’s the outlaws,” Karl said, speaking in broken syllables while catching his breath. “Stage coach.” He pointed behind them.
“They were tracking y’all,” James said, “But when they saw the stagecoach passing through, they changed their course and followed.”
“Whitehorse and I will go after that stagecoach,” Will said. “Y’all keep going after Coil.”
“No way can I let you go out there outnumbered,” Hank said. “Springer and I will ride with y’all. Aggie can stay here with James and Karl. They look like they could use a break.”
“We’re fine,” Karl said.
“Maybe, but your horses need a rest.”
“Hey,” Agatha said. “I’m not staying here with the wagon doing nothing. I’m going with you.”
Will cleared his throat. “We can’t high tail it after a robbery with a wagon in tow. We’ll be lucky to catch up with them before the driver makes it to the switch pass.”
“Then I’ll unhitch Jeep and ride with y’all,” she said.
“You’ll do no such thing,” Will said. “You will continue moving along toward Golden Eagle Pass. Coil needs you more than a stagecoach driver does.”
Agatha’s face turned red, and she blew out a breath before turning on her heel and walking away.
Hank followed behind her. “Aggie, I understand how you feel, but Coil is out there, and his life might be measured in minutes. We can’t chance his rescue to go chasing after a few bandits looking for cash.”
“You’re right,” she conceded. “You’re both right. I’m just so angry that those criminals are trying to ruin our lives that I want to take it out on them.’
“You’ll get your chance, but Coil comes first.”
“I’ll find him,” she said.
“I know you will,” Hank said.
“Times a wastin’, Hank,” Will shouted as he and Whitehorse moved out toward the switch pass.
Hank kissed Agatha on the cheek, and gave her a last look before getting on Beemer and riding off to meet the others.
Whitehorse was skilled at tracking and lead the party. Once they moved away from the flat, smooth meadows of the plains and into a more forested area, the trail was harder to follow. Hank kept watch for anyone who might be waiting to ambush them.
“Heads up,” Jason whispered, holding up his hand signaling them to stop. “Something’s up ahead.”
Hank tried to peer around the three men and their horses, but the thicket and shadows from the dense overhangs made it tough. It was hard to estimate, but Hank figured they’d been on the go for at least an hour since leaving the rest of them with the wagon.
Hank was able to make out an elevated ridge to the right, and there were open areas straight and to the left. Will motioned for Jason and Springer to dismount and take a high position on the ridge. That would allow them to check for any of the Copper Cove Boys hiding up top, and also allow them a crow’s nest vantage point.
The two experienced lawmen tied their reins to a sturdy tree, and began to silently traverse the jagged terrain. Hank was amazed at their stealth and knew he would’ve come tumbling down in a rock avalanche. Once they were up top, Will signaled for Hank to follow him in a rush around the cliff’s edge to ensure an element of surprise.
; If there were four or five gun slingers, the two of them would need to move fast and aggressive to secure them.
“You ready?” Will whispered over his shoulder.
Hank felt his chest heave with anticipation and nodded. It was go time. Hank controlled Beemer easily as he secured his revolver in one hand and the reins in the other. They moved swiftly, and Hank immediately saw the stagecoach when they turned past the rocks. It was still a good ways away, but they were closing the gap fast.
They were less than ten yards from the broadside of the stagecoach before Will cut sharp to the right, and Hank reacted by going in the opposite direction. There was no one in sight.
“This is the law,” Will shouted. “Anyone out there?”
Four horses were still hitched to the stagecoach, but all was silent.
“You think they killed the driver?” Hank asked.
“I’m the driver,” someone called out from behind a bush. “What y’all want?”
“I’m Will Ellis, Texas Ranger. We saw you being chased by the Copper Cove Boys. You okay?”
Hank’s heart was pounding. This was either an ambush or a set up. He caught movement in his peripheral vision. It was Whitehorse and Springer scooting down the rocks.
“I saw them boys, but they ain’t paid me no mind,” the stagecoach driver said. “As soon as they caught up to me, they waved and circled back from where they came.”
“They’re going for Agatha,” Hank said, fear gnawing his gut.
Chapter Seven
Agatha paced while Karl and James dismounted and caught their breaths. Karl’s horse seemed especially winded. “I think we need to get some space in between where we are and where those outlaws last saw us,” she suggested.
“Karl can’t ride on a lagging horse,” James said. “And we need to work as a team. There’s too much at stake.”
“I understand that,” she said patiently. “But he can walk Bacon down to that creek in the woods while we get going. He can catch up later.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea to split up,” Karl said.
James was thoughtful for several minutes before he spoke again. “Agatha is right,” he said. “The Copper Cove Boys know our location, and if they decide to come back, we won’t have a chance.”
