by Erin Johnson
“Just follow him!” she shouted.
A second later, another figure jumped from the train, curled into a ball, and rolled down the hill. Joe.
Grace eased backward toward the ladder. Her skirts twisted and tangled around her legs, but she forced herself to keep going as the fabric bunched and tore. Keeping her arms curved around the train roof for balance, she felt behind her with her foot for the edge of the roof. But just as she did, with a great screeching of brakes, the train ground to a halt. Grace slid forward then back with the momentum, and when she stopped, her legs dangled over the edge. She hugged the train roof for a few moments, panting. Pulse racing, she finally inched herself down until she touched the first rung. Then, torn and filthy skirts clutched in one hand, she backed down the ladder as fast as she could in her slippery shoes.
When she reached the platform below, she found herself several feet above the sloping ground. She had to help Joe capture Nat. Taking a deep breath, she leaped from the train. One heel caught in the dirt and Grace tumbled down the embankment, scratching herself on rocks, cacti, and sagebrush. Sore and bruised, she picked herself up, dusted off, and limped as fast as she could after the figure racing ahead of her.
Joe zigzagged behind a towering group of rocks and disappeared from sight. Ignoring the pain shooting through her ankle, Grace sped after him. Panting and bleeding from the scratches, she reached the place where Joe had turned off the path, but saw no one.
Then she heard scuffling and grunting coming from behind a nearby set of boulders. Moving as silently as Joe had taught her, Grace inched closer and peered around the nearest boulder. Joe and Nat were wrestling on the ground, both struggling to reach a gun that lay nearby.
“Joe!” Grace shouted. “Get out of the way.”
Joe didn’t need telling twice. He ducked low and rolled clear. Nat Andersen straightened up and stared at her wide-eyed for a minute. Time seemed to stop as his face floated across her memory, the gang marauding her family’s home . . .
That split second of hesitation was all Nat needed. He reached for his gun, but before he could get off a shot, Grace finally whipped out her own revolver and pulled the trigger. The gun dropped from Nat’s hand and he collapsed, but she stood frozen, gun still aimed, fixated on his unmoving form.
Joe’s voice came to her as if from a distance.
“Grace?” He edged toward her. Gently, he lowered her arm and pried the gun from her fingers. He slid it into her holster, then embraced her.
“It’s over. It’s over,” he whispered against her hair.
CHAPTER 27
The next morning, Grace woke up stiff and sore. Every muscle ached, but she had one final score to settle. She picked up her hat. Around the crown was the beaded headband the Ndeh had given her. When Cheis presented it to her, it had six eagle feathers, but one feather was already missing. It had fluttered onto Doc Slaughter’s body when she’d shot him, and she’d vowed that day to pursue justice until a feather rested on the form of each Guiltless Gang member. One for each member of her family.
Grace headed for the sheriff’s office and strode past Sheriff Shaw, Deputy Clayton, and the other guards with only a brief nod. Behind the iron bars of the cell, Nat Andersen lay on a narrow bed. He’d survived her bullet, barely, and was under medical supervision, although he was not receiving much. Wyatt slumped on the floor beside the bed. Clarence, the two accomplices from the train, and the man who’d guarded the loot that the outlaws had managed to cart off the train also shared the cell.
Grace stepped closer to the bars and pulled two feathers from the band in her hat, rolling them between her fingers. Then she reached a hand into the cell and tossed the first one. It floated through the bars and landed on Nat Andersen’s chest. She let the second one go and it fluttered onto Wyatt Andersen’s head. He batted at it but missed, and a slight breeze carried it into his lap.
“What the —” Nat began.
“Feathers for cowards. This is justice for the murder of my family — and all the crimes you’ve perpetrated before and since. You’ll swing for what you’ve done.”
With that, Grace turned on her heel and strode off. Three feathers down, three to go.
When she entered the office, Deputy Clayton nudged Sheriff Shaw. “Looks like the best bounty hunter in the West has arrived for her reward.”
Shaw laughed. “So the mighty Watkins brothers couldn’t handle the job of transporting the fugitive over the state line, eh? You had to come to their rescue?”
It was not the first time Grace had captured bounty for the Watkins brothers, but she just smiled graciously and inclined her head toward both lawmen. “I did what needed to be done. And Joe helped. I couldn’t have done it without him.”
“Modest as well as skillful. What can I say?” Deputy Clayton reached in his desk drawer and pulled out a small metal box along with a key. “Too much gold here to put in your purse or to walk around town with. Might want to see about depositing most of it in the bank.”
Grace nodded. Although she was grateful for the reward and accepted it gladly, her greatest reward was watching those feathers come to rest on two more members of the Guiltless Gang.
And she had special plans for some of this money. It had been heartbreaking to part with Emily once the train reached Fairbank. After promising to take a trip back East to visit Emily and her mother, Grace had stayed aboard the train with Joe for the return trip to Bisbee. The train carried no other passengers except the trussed outlaws, the subdued Watkins brothers, and a group of lawmen from Fairbank.
But Grace promised herself that once she had captured the rest of the Guiltless Gang, she’d make that trip East and present Emily with her share of the reward money. Joe deserved some too.
“Guess we don’t need these any longer.” Deputy Clayton stepped over to the wanted posters on the wall. He ripped six of them down and tore them to shreds.
“Only three more Guiltless Gang members to go,” Grace pointed out. “And I intend to capture them all.”
Deputy Clayton started to protest, but Sheriff Shaw cut him off. “We’d be mighty obliged if you would try.”
“I’ll need your help to track them down. Any idea of the others’ whereabouts yet?”
Both men shook their heads. “But the minute we get any clues, Grace, we’ll let you know,” Sheriff Shaw promised.
When Grace emerged from the sheriff’s office, Reverend Byington and Joe stood waiting outside. Joe held the reins of Paint and Bullet, and the preacher hurried over and took Grace’s hand. He studied the scratches and bruises on her face with a slight frown, but then smiled. The tenderness in his glance warmed Grace’s heart.
“What are you doing here? At the courthouse, I mean,” Grace asked the reverend.
“I got a call that one of the train robbers was near death’s door. He wanted to confess, so I hurried over.”
“Someone confessed?”
Reverend Byington shook his head. “Unfortunately not. As soon as he learned he’d recover, he recanted his story.” He sighed. “Sometimes doing God’s work can be a huge burden. All these lost souls . . .”
And she was one of the many souls he agonized over, Grace knew.
“But I am grateful for every victory for good,” the preacher went on. “Joe here has been telling me the story of the train robbery. I’m glad to hear that forgiveness and mercy prevailed over the need to seek your own revenge.”
Joe gave Grace a sheepish look. “I said you had a chance to shoot Andersen. It even looked like you intended to . . . but then you didn’t. I really admire you for that, Grace. Few people would have had that much courage or self-control.”
Recalling the blind rage that had overtaken her when she was near Wyatt Andersen, Grace wasn’t so sure. Only the thought of Emily watching had stopped her.
Reverend Byington smiled. “I’ve been praying that God would
soften your heart, Grace, and it seems those prayers were answered. Oh, and God answered another one of my prayers too.”
He gestured toward the Watkins brothers, waiting in a line near the building exit. Bruised and battered, all four brothers stood stiffly, hats clasped in front of them. Wade’s shoulder was wrapped in thick bandages and he winced each time he drew a breath. Beside him, Steven leaned heavily on a cane, his face pale and drawn. Frank’s heavily bandaged hand rested in a sling, and Asa stood hunched over, clutching at his back. Grace bit back a smile at their disheveled appearance, and Reverend Byington nodded to each one in turn. “Good afternoon, boys.” Then he patted Grace on the shoulder. “I think they have something to say to you. Joe and I’ll wait for you here.”
The Watkins brothers waited until Grace approached, then Wade said hesitantly, “We, uh, we owe you an apology.”
Asa nodded. “If it weren’t for you, we might not even be alive.” He looked at his brothers for confirmation. One by one they nodded. All except Frank, whose face was pinched in a sour look, but under Asa’s scowl Frank gave a barely perceivable nod.
Asa held out a handful of gold coins. “We’re right sorry about that other bounty.”
Grace brushed the coins away. “Thanks, but I don’t need that.”
“I don’t blame you . . . for being prideful, but . . . the money is . . . rightfully yours.” Wade’s words were interspersed with deep gasps as he struggled with his breathing.
“I appreciate your offer, but I have more than enough money right here.” Grace shook the metal box. It was certainly more than enough money to begin her search for the rest of the Guiltless Gang. Head high, she marched past them to where Joe was waiting.
He grinned at her. “Thought you might like a ride to clear your head.” He motioned to the horses he’d already saddled. How had he known that was exactly what she needed? With a grateful glance, Grace mounted Bullet. Because both of them were stiff and sore, they rode slowly out of town and into the hills. They spent the rest of the afternoon letting the horses graze while they rested in the shade of tall boulders and a small stand of trees.
After reminiscing about their parts in the capture of the train robbers, Grace turned to Joe. “Thank you for everything you did to help. I’m glad you were there.” She gave him a sly grin. “Guess I did need you after all.”
Joe laughed. “Never thought I’d hear you admit that.”
Grace gave him a playful swat. “When it’s one against five, I might need a little help.”
“A little?”
“All right, all right. You were a big help. And so was Emily.” Grace shook her head. “But she could have been killed. I’m glad she’s on her way back East and away from this notion of bounty hunting.”
Joe raised an eyebrow. “To tell you the truth,” he admitted, “your bounty hunting still makes me uneasy too.”
Grace turned to look at him. “How can I give up now? You’ve seen the evil this gang is doing. They need to be stopped. I want justice, for everyone around me, and most of all for my family.”
Although Joe nodded, he glanced off into the distance with a clenched jaw. Grace couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He seemed so remote and far away, and again worrisome thoughts filled her mind. They were tentatively together now, but how long would he wait for her? She was on her way to getting complete justice for her family’s murder, and she couldn’t stop. No matter if the quest might take her away from the one thing she wanted almost as much . . .
Hoping to close the distance between them, Grace reached for his hand, and Joe grasped it tightly. Then they sat, hand in hand, until the sun sank below the horizon.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Erin Johnson grew up watching classic western movies with her father, which fueled her lifelong love of horseback riding. She’s always dreamed of being a fierce-talking cowgirl, but writing about one seemed like the next best thing. She loves traveling, painting, riding motorcycles, and teaching. She lives in North Carolina.
WANTED IS PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES
IN 2015 BY SWITCH PRESS
A CAPSTONE IMPRINT
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TEXT © HOTHOUSE FICTION LTD 2015
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THE AUTHOR’S MORAL RIGHTS ARE HEREBY ASSERTED.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. NO PART OF THIS PUBLICATION MAY BE REPRODUCED IN WHOLE OR IN PART, OR STORED IN A RETRIEVAL SYSTEM, OR TRANSMITTED IN ANY FORM OR BY ANY MEANS, ELECTRONIC, MECHANICAL, PHOTOCOPYING, RECORDING, OR OTHERWISE, WITHOUT WRITTEN PERMISSION OF THE PUBLISHER.
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA IS AVAILABLE ON THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS WEBSITE.
ISBN: 978-1-63079-007-3 (PAPER OVER BOARD)
ISBN: 978-1-63079-032-5 (EBOOK PDF)
ISBN: 978-1-63079-035-6 (EBOOK)
SUMMARY: GRACE MILTON HAS ONLY ONE GOAL: BRING THE GUILTLESS GANG, THE OUTLAWS WHO SLAUGHTERED HER FAMILY, TO JUSTICE. THAT’S WHY SHE HAD TO ABANDON JOE. SHE COULDN’T AFFORD ANY DISTRACTIONS. NOW SHE’S MAKING HER LIVING AS ONE OF THE ONLY FEMALE BOUNTY HUNTERS IN THE WILD WEST, DESPITE THE DOUBTS AND PROTESTS OF OTHERS. BUT SOON RUMORS SURFACE THAT TWO MEMBERS OF THE GUILTLESS GANG ARE NEARBY, PLANNING A DARING TRAIN ROBBERY, AND NOW GRACE IS FACED WITH AN IMPOSSIBLE CHOICE.
DESIGNER: K. FRASER
PHOTO CREDITS: SHUTTERSTOCK WITH SPECIAL THANKS TO LAURIE J. EDWARDS
