My Heart Belongs in Ruby City, Idaho

by Susanne Dietze

  Rebecca tapped Tad’s arm. “That’s the man I saw in town, all right.”

  Flick would have had to hurry between his bank visit and the holdup of the piece haulers that day, but it was possible to do. He certainly hadn’t needed the two dollars he withdrew for his mother. Perhaps he’d been evaluating the bank’s security so the Gang would have an easy time when they returned to rob it.

  Flick sneered at Ralph. “Your wife took my horse. That’s a hanging offense.”

  Now that was rich. Tad chomped his lower lip.

  Dottie didn’t open her eyes. “You didn’t treat your pony well, Flick.”

  “Shut up!” Flick glared at her.

  “You shut up!” Ralph loomed over Flick like a standing bear. “You shot Dottie and Tad Fordham, and we decided there’d be no killing!”

  “But you want to kill me for accidentally shooting Dottie?” Flick laughed.

  Rebecca’s breath was hot on the back of Tad’s neck. He wished he could turn and comfort her, but any moment now, the sheriff would give the sign to ambush the crooks.

  “You’ve gone too far, Flick.” Ralph paced just a few yards from Tad and Rebecca’s hiding spot. “Robbin’ a few wagons and coaches and scragglers was all we were goin’ to do. We weren’t gonna hurt nobody, and we weren’t gonna steal nobody, neither. Takin’ this feller as a hostage was plain senseless.”

  “It was smart, is what it was.” Flick rubbed his block of a jaw. “His sister is the deputy’s wife. Or cousin or something. I can’t keep track. How does it go again, Dot?”

  “She’s both.” Dottie shut her eyes.

  “That don’t make no sense, but it don’t matter. A posse will let us go in exchange for his safety, if they manage to track us.”

  Ralph shook his head. “It ain’t an if, Flick. It’s a when. Fordham’s a good tracker, so we’d best git our goods, let the man go, and git out of here.”

  “They’ll let Johnny go?” Rebecca’s whisper tickled Tad’s nape.

  “No releasin’ the hostage,” Flick answered for Tad.

  Ralph started toward Johnny anyway. “You may be the leader, but I say we’re done with him.”

  “You ain’t doin’ nothing!”

  Skeet’s hands curled around his ears. “Let the prisoner go, Flick, and I say Dottie gets the goods so we can skedaddle.”

  “I can’t climb down in that hole.” Dottie opened her eyes and gestured to her bandage. “Flick shot me, remember?”

  “But you’re the only one who can fit down there. Aw, just forget it. We got a good haul from the bank.” Ralph bent to gather the canvas bank bag. “I don’t want to do this no more, no how. You’ve changed, Flick, shootin’ and kidnappin’ folks.”

  Flick’s hands fisted. “You can’t quit until I say you can quit.”

  “You ain’t the boss of us,” Ralph protested.

  Tad exchanged glances with the sheriff. The Gang had admitted to everything, from the robberies to kidnapping to shooting Tad and Dottie. The argument among the members of the Gang was intensifying. It was time to act.

  Flick must have thought so, too, because he drew his pistol and aimed at Ralph. “I say when we quit, and I say that time is now, after all. I’ll take the haul from the bank, and I’m feelin’ generous, so I’ll let you all split the goods in the mine. And I take the hostage.”

  Rebecca gasped, but Tad reached behind him and squeezed her upper arm. Hold fast.

  Ralph’s head stuck out, like he hadn’t heard. “What?”

  “Hand over the bank bag, nice and slow, and I won’t shoot your wife again. And by the way, it wasn’t an accident the first time. I was aimin’ right at her spine.”

  Tad didn’t breathe. Neither did Rebecca, because his neck went cold. Then Ralph sprang at Flick.

  Tad barely saw the sheriff’s hand signal. He was at Johnny’s side before Ralph and Flick hit the ground. Johnny hopped to his feet, clearly having loosened his bonds without his captors’ knowledge. Tad pressed a folding knife into his hand. “Rebecca’s behind a tree. Keep her safe!”

  “She’s here?” Johnny groaned. “Why’d you go and bring her along? I thought you—never mind.”

  Never mind, indeed. There’d be time for talk later. Jeroboam scooped Dottie, pulling her to the safety of the trees, and two men pinned Skeet on the ground. That left Flick and Ralph, who rolled, kicked, and bit, struggling for possession of Flick’s pistol. This wouldn’t end well.

  The sheriff shot into the air. “Drop the gun and stand up, fellers. You’re under arrest.”

  Flick wrenched his wrist from Ralph’s grip and took aim at the sheriff.

  Tad lunged. The report of the pistol cracked in his ear, but he felt no pain. Tad smacked the gun from Flick’s hand, scrambled to his feet, and kicked the firearm toward the cliff’s edge. Flick gripped his leg and yanked, pulling him to the dirt.

  Flick hadn’t earned his nickname by being slow. He knew he was outnumbered, too, and that made him dangerous. His fists flew, connecting with Tad’s lip.

  Now that, Tad felt.

  He scrambled to his feet. If he drew his gun, Flick would wrestle him for it. He only needed to keep Flick occupied until the others helped subdue him. Even now, the sheriff and two other men reached for Flick, but Flick butted Tad with his head and yanked him sideways.

  Tad glanced down. They teetered at the cliff’s edge. One wrong move, and he and Flick would go over the side.

  Folks yelled. One of the women screamed. Sure enough, Rebecca had quit the shelter of the trees, gaping beside Ralph, whose hands were raised in surrender. Her eyes were wide, her face leached of color, her hands gripping Johnny’s. He hated that he’d caused the pain and fear on her face.

  But Tad wasn’t finished. He swung his leg and swiped Flick’s feet out from under him. They both went down, but Tad leaned forward, away from the cliff’s edge. Flick fell backward and reached for his pistol. He managed to curl his fingers around the hilt.

  And then he slipped.

  Tad dropped to his belly and reached, but it was too late. Flick slid down the hill.

  Rebecca was on her stomach beside him before he could expel another breath, gripping his face while dust settled around them in a thick, brown cloud. “Can you hear me?”

  Tad grimaced. “Of course I can hear you. You’re yelling.”

  “Your ear’s bleeding. I thought he shot it.” She stuffed a wadded handkerchief against his head. “I’ll stitch it up after I get down to help Flick.”

  He gripped her hand, the one that pushed the hankie into his ear. “There’s no use you going down there, Rebecca. It’ll be a recovery, not a rescue.”

  “Oh.” Her eyes filled with tears. Tad squeezed her fingers. The woman had been terrorized by the Gang, yet she still mourned Flick’s passing.

  They sat like that for a minute, her putting pressure on the side of his head, him holding her hand there, until Johnny helped them to stand. Ralph, Skeet, and Dottie were all bound, but Ralph and Dottie managed to rub noses.

  “I shouldn’t have left you,” Dottie cooed. “I’m sorry!”

  “Me, too, turtledove!”

  Rebecca’s eyes rolled.

  Tad removed the handkerchief. Sure enough, blood sopped it, but his ear was only now beginning to hurt. Maybe the bullet grazed him, or he’d landed wrong. Come to think of it, more of him was hurting now. Scrapes from gravel, the sting of a split lip, and his healed gunshot wound ached like he’d been shot all over again.

  Dottie pulled away from Ralph and leveled a gaze at Tad. “I told you I was done with the Gang, and you heard that Ralph is, too. He surrendered, even.”

  “I sure did.” Ralph nodded.

  “And I told you where the hideout was,” Dottie said. “You remember all of that when the judge gets back to town. You tell him how I cooperated, even though it means I’ll be separated from my husband for a time. We’ll cooperate so we won’t be in prison long, right?”

  “We’ll tell the judge.” Sheriff Adk
ins folded his arms. “Meanwhile, a few of you fellows head on down and recover Dougherty. We’ll meet you down there.”

  Eb grunted. “What about my money? Do I get it now?”

  “Or the goods in the mine?” another fellow asked.

  “No money until we’ve cataloged it and returned it to Bilson, but we should probably get the goods out while we’re here.” The sheriff peered into the mine.

  Ralph held up his bound hands. “We said we’d cooperate, and we are, so I’ll tell you Dottie’s the only one small enough to crawl down into the shaft. A normal-sized feller can’t fit. That’s why Flick let her be in the Gang.”

  “It could be a trick,” Eb protested. “She could pocket the goods or sneak out the back way.”

  Ralph snorted. “Only one way in or out.”

  The sheriff lifted Dottie by her good arm. “Then do it.”

  She gripped her poufy skirt, as if showing she wasn’t dressed for the part. “I can’t.”

  “I thought you said you were cooperating.”

  “I was shot, remember? I need two arms, and I’ve only got the use of one.”

  She had a point. But before Tad could say another word, Rebecca removed her gloves. “Get some rope and light, then. I can do it.”

  Rebecca was ready.

  “You don’t need to do this.” Tad’s body was tight, his eyes alert despite split lips, stiff shoulders and hands, which were white-knuckled on her wrist as several members of the posse squeezed into the mine shaft where the Gang had hidden out the past few months.

  The mine wasn’t deep. A cave-in filled the space not five hundred feet from the opening, but the space offered shelter and a few excellent hiding spots, including one narrow passage that curved down into blackness.

  Rebecca planted her feet on the edge of it, gripping the rope tied under her arms as if her life depended on it—which it did. If she separated from the rope, she might not get out again. She tried to smile for Tad, but her mouth wouldn’t work right. “There’s no one else to fit.”

  “The sheriff and I will come back with—”

  “We’re here. I’m even in trousers.”

  “This mine was abandoned for a reason, Rebecca. It’s not safe.”

  She wanted to be safe, oh yes, but right now, more than anything, she wanted to do this so Tad wouldn’t have to come back here again. “I’ll be fine.”

  Johnny held a torch overhead. “I’ll try to light the way as best I can.”

  She nodded and took a tentative step into the shaft.

  She had to crouch as she scooched deeper down into the cold, narrow passage, but then the walls closed in and she had to turn sideways to fit. Pa and her brothers had called her bird-legged, and she smiled. If ever there was a time to be small-boned and underfed, this was it.

  Her breathing came harder as the air tasted staler. Panic swirled in her stomach as the passage grew tighter. Help me, God.

  “You all right?” Tad’s voice carried down, faint but welcome.

  She nodded before she realized he couldn’t see her. “Yes.” She hoped her voice didn’t sound as panicky as she felt.

  The shaft ended abruptly into a face of rock, and the light from Johnny’s torch didn’t reach here well—especially with her body blocking it. She shifted, and the feeble glow landed on something burnished.

  Rebecca’s fingers patted the ground for objects she couldn’t see well, and she scooped the items willy-nilly into the sack at her belt. It felt like stacks of money, coins, pocket watches, necklaces and brooches, cloth and tiny bags. Strange items, too, like Dr. Wilkie’s stethoscope, paper, and fur. She shifted, and the pale light illuminated a gold lump that looked like a polished nugget—oh, it wasn’t a rock. It was Ulysses’s tooth! It was dry and cold, but her fingers still shivered handling it, as if it were fresh from his mouth.

  “I’m coming back, and I got it all!” She crouched and slithered up and out, crawling on her hands and knees at one point, never more grateful for the light that grew brighter with each step. How did mining men do this, scuttling into cold, confined darkness, every day, all day? Her lungs ached, as if she hadn’t truly breathed since descending into the shaft.

  Johnny’s relieved face was well lit by the torch, but it was Tad’s grave countenance she couldn’t look away from. Split lip, bruised jaw, and all, it was the most handsome face she’d ever seen. Without a word, he yanked the rope from her and guided her out of the mine. He didn’t remove his hand until they were out in the fresh, sweet air, rounding the hill away from the cliff, down to where their horses waited.

  He offered her a canteen. “Drink.”

  “You need it, too.”

  He shook his head, brooking no argument. She took a long, deep draft of the water, letting it wash the dust from her mouth. Water hadn’t tasted so good since that first cup she’d had when she arrived in Ruby City, just before her wedding. She’d thought she was dirty then, but oh, Rebecca could only imagine what she looked like now.

  When she’d drunk her fill, Tad retrieved the canteen, doused a bandanna, and swiped her face and hands, even the one still gripping the sack of stolen goods. She stilled his fingers with her own. “You’re the one that needs tending. Your lip is swollen.”

  “It’ll heal.”

  Most things did. Rebecca wasn’t sure her heart ever would, though.

  Her shoulder was clapped from behind, and Johnny pulled her into a tight embrace. “Good work, sis.”

  Some of the men voiced agreement, and Mr. Cook pushed forward. “What’s in the sack?”

  “Nobody touches anything until I see it first,” the sheriff insisted. “We’ve got to make sure these get back to their rightful owners, if we can.”

  Then he dumped out the contents, looking a little like Santa Claus.

  Rebecca chewed her lip. “Do you suppose these items will be needed as evidence for the trial?”

  “We have plenty of evidence to convict the Gang, so I don’t think so. Why?”

  “I recognize a few things. I thought maybe I could deliver them to their rightful owners.”

  She pointed out the ones in question. The sheriff lifted a skeptical brow, but then Tad nodded. “I’ll escort her.”

  “Fine by me. Let’s break our fasts and then head back. We’ll see you back in town.”

  Rebecca knew Tad would offer to accompany her. She wasn’t surprised when Johnny stepped forward, either, just as she was untying Mrs. Horner’s dish towel and removing the ham and corn bread from it so she could wrap up the stolen goods she had separated from the rest.

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “It’s all right, Johnny. I think the sheriff needs your help with the Gang.” Ralph and Skeet were tied behind horses, but Dottie had to ride, and Flick’s wrapped body draped over one of the spare horses they’d brought. It would not be an easy journey back to Ruby City.

  They made quick work of the meal Mrs. Horner had packed in the dish towel, and when they finished, Tad waited by Patches. His hands went around her waist, boosting her into the saddle.

  “Where first?” He clambered atop Solomon.

  “Where’s Longbeard’s?”

  “Thataway.” He clicked his tongue, and the horses started back toward Ruby City.

  Tad kept their pace slow, falling back from the rest of the posse, and they spoke of trivial things: the weather, Cornelia’s fancy dress, how Solomon got his name from being the wisest horse Tad ever knew. Then Tad pointed up the hill, bringing Rebecca back to the reality of where they were and what they were about. “We fork this way to find Longbeard’s claim.”

  After a spell, the ragged land blossomed with tents and makeshift dwellings. One was marked with rope and stakes that looked newer than the rest. Longbeard stood before a droopy tent, as if he’d heard them coming.

  So this was where Bowe Brown stumbled, almost starting a fight in the restaurant that first night Rebecca was in town. She’d best show respect so Longbeard understood she didn’t plan to trespass
. “Hello, Mr. Pegg. I have something for you.”

  Tad helped her dismount, his hands warm on her waist. She inched toward Longbeard, unwrapping the dish towel. “We found the Gang of Four’s hideout. I think this might be your mother’s collar.”

  It was a ragged thing, the sandy-brown rabbit fur missing in spots. Rebecca held the folded collar flat on her palm, the way she’d feed a carrot to a horse. In a flash, Longbeard grabbed it without touching her skin and tucked it into his dirty shirt front.

  Tad stood at her elbow. “Rebecca wanted to give you your collar personally. Didn’t want it to get lost, since it belonged to your mother.”

  Longbeard glanced at Tad. “Your ear’s bleedin’.”

  Rebecca nodded. “I’ll bandage it when we get back to Ruby City, but I wanted to see you first. I owe you an apology, because I knew Dottie was in the Gang of Four, and I let her have a day to tell the sheriff herself. If I hadn’t waited, we could have had the collar back to you a day sooner.”

  “You’re wearing pants.”

  “So I am.” What she wasn’t sure of was whether he forgave her or not, but at least he wasn’t angry.

  “Pants don’t look right with a girl bonnet.”

  She loosened the ribbon and pushed the bonnet back to rest at her nape. “How’s this?”

  His watery eyes scanned her hair. Breeze-blown tendrils swept her nose and cheeks, so it must look a mess.

  “Unusual,” Longbeard said.

  Tad chuckled. Rebecca wanted to take Longbeard’s hand, but this was as close as he’d let her get to him, probably. “I’ll see you later.”

  He watched them go. Tad boosted her back atop Patches, and when they were out of the camp, skirting junipers, he shook his head at her. “What you said to him isn’t true, you know. If it wasn’t for you, Longbeard’s collar would still be at the bottom of the mine shaft until we figured out another way, and then it would have been locked in a box in the office until Longbeard claimed it, and who knows if he’d have dared to come do that? You’re responsible for making him happy, Rebecca.”

  Longbeard didn’t look it, but he never did.