by Lynn Landes
Chapter 6
Shepherd walks into the bakery and inhales deeply. “Oh, I need coffee.”
“You’ve come to the right place,” a female voice says.
He smiles at the pretty baker, “I’d like a coffee and a cinnamon roll,” he slides money across the counter.
“Have a seat, Mister?” Greta teases the handsome stranger.
“Shepherd Millard.” Shep replies and watches closely as the color fades from her face. Her face whips up to his and she stammers.
“Maggie’s Shepherd?” Greta dashes around the wooden counter. “Where have you been? You’re too late!” She hisses and grabs his arm to drag him over to a corner.
“Where is Maggie?” he glares at the small brunette.
“Clint found her. She’s on the run.”
His heart drops to his stomach. “Where is she now?” Shep interrupts her.
“Train station. The sisters are helping her. If you hurry, you might get there first.” Shep turns but Greta stops him with a hand to his arm.
“Shepherd, she thinks you hate her. I’m not sure how she’ll react to seeing you,” she explains softly.
“Why would I hate her?” he demands.
“Because she robbed you,” Greta insists.
“She did no such thing,” Shepherd laughs. “I didn’t exactly give her a choice. Thank you, Miss?”
“Greta. Take care of her, Shepherd.” Greta drags him through bakery to the back door, “I have a horse you can use.” She shouts out to a boy washing dishes in the kitchen.
He dashes outside while Greta wraps up to cinnamon rolls, “Take these,” she insists. She quickly gives him directions through the back street to the train station.
“Thank you,” Shepherd gladly accepts the bag and mounts the horse. “I’ll leave the horse for you at the station.”
Shepherd thunders through the back streets and prays that he reaches her before Clint does.
A few minutes later he slides to a stop in front of the station and ties the horse to a pole before running inside. He glances around desperately, passing a group of nuns and for the first time in his life he’s thankful for his height.
Maggie should stand out easily, with her light blonde hair, height and eyes. He desperately scans the crowd, looking for her.
Clint roughly grabs nun after nun, whirling them around to look at their faces. He ignores the scared shouts and grabs a nun at a ticket counter.
“Where is she?” he demands.
“Hey!” a male voice says behind him. “That’s no way to treat a sister.”
Clint turns and punches him out cold and draws his pistol, he shoves it against the Sister’s chest. “Tell me where she is,” he hisses. Fear-filled eyes jump over his shoulder.
“I’m right here,” Maggie snaps from behind him.
Before he can move Maggie swings her heavy carpet bag sending him flying to the cold floor. His pistol skids across the train yard and Maggie runs.
“Maggie!” Clint roars from the ground.
Shepherd is scanning the crowd when he hears a commotion. A man is roughing up a nun standing at a ticket counter and he is about to turn around when a second Nun speaks.
“Maggie?” he whispers. When the Sister strikes the man with her bag, he shouts in relief.
“Maggie!” Clint scrambles to his feet to go after her, but security has arrived and is dragging him to his feet. Three men jump into the fray and a fight breaks out.
Sister Mary nods and gestures to the others to leave. She glances over and watches Maggie board a train.
Maggie runs to the train, already pumping out smoke. It’s preparing for departure. Holding her ticket in front of her like a lifeline, she pushes through the crowd and hands her ticket to the porter.
“Welcome aboard, Sister,” he says.
“Maggie,” she stammers, breathing hard and glances behind her nervously.
“Sister Maggie. You’re just in time.” The porter guides her onto the train and leads her to a first-class cabin.
Maggie tunes out his speech about the quality of the train, first-class cabin, and more. She’s desperate to be under way.
“Thank you,” Maggie whispers and hurries to the window to look outside. “How long till we depart?”
“Any moment, Sister,” he replies.
Maggie walks him to the door. “Thank you,” she closes it behind him and plops into a seat as the train starts to move.
The adrenaline in her body has her shaking, and she wraps her arms around herself to stem it. When the door slides open Maggie leaps to her feet, drawing her knife from the sleeve of her habit.
“That’s a sight most men will never see,” Shepherd laughs. “A beautiful blue-eyed nun, holding a knife.”
Maggie stares at him and squeaks, “Shep?”
“Yes, Maggie, girl,” his smile fades as he waits to see how she responds.
She drops the knife and flies across the cabin, straight into his arms, sobbing with relief. “Are you really here?” she weeps.
Shepherd meets her halfway and lifts her up, burying his face in her neck. “Finally,” he whispers.
Chapter 7
The train picks up steam, and she pushes back to look at him. “I can’t believe you’re here, Shep,” she sniffs. “You can put me down now.” A blush stains her cheek when she realizes what he must think of her behavior.
“Not yet,” he walks forward and sits with her in his arms. Her entire body is trembling. “Maggie Rose, you are one hard woman to keep up with.”
His eyes drop to her mouth and she smiles, “What are you doing here?” she asks.
Shepherd smiles and presses a gentle kiss to her shocked lips. A tremble ripples through his body, transferring to her. Maggie frowns, she knows better than to trust a man.
“I was so worried about you. Rightly so. Maggie, what were you thinking leaving me like that?” he demands.
“Shepherd, I hardly know you.” She pushes out of his arms and stands up. “One date doesn’t give you the right to control my life.”
Anger has him leaping to his feet, “Protecting your life, Maggie! Not controlling it!” Shep stomps away and picks up her knife and offers it back to her.
Maggie goes still and glances up at him as she accepts the weapon. “Just how many of these do you have?” he asks.
“More than I should, and oddly, not enough,” she laughs softly. “Shepherd, I know you weren’t trying to control me, but at the time, it felt like the right thing to do.” He steps closer to her and cups her face in his hand.
“I understand, Maggie, but in the future, can we please discuss your options before you run?”
Maggie looks at him and sees the exhaustion in his eyes. His clothing is rumpled, he has bags under his eyes and a scruffy looking beard. Her heart warms at the thought of all he’s done to find her.
“Yes. I can be reasonable. I need to change, Shep. This habit is itchy. Where is your cabin?” she asks.
“With you,” he sits and sighs heavily.
“I beg your pardon?” she cocks a hand on her hip, and he can’t help but laugh at the image she presents, in her dark brown habit and white collar with a defiant expression on her face.
“I wish I could draw right now. What a contradiction you are, Miss Rose. Sweet innocence and temptress, all in one beautiful package.”
Maggie blushes and grabs her bag. “I’ll be right back to discuss this.” She ducks inside the watering closet and strips the habit and head covering from her hair. Folding it up she packs it away and releases her blonde hair, brushing it quickly, she braids it and slides on her dark purple dress.
“Be firm, Maggie,” she murmurs to the mirror and smiles at her reflection. Washing the tears stains away, she checks once more before stepping back into the cabin. “He will not stay, Magdalaine. He just feels responsible for your safety.” Her heart sinks. The past has taught her not to trust men.
First her father, then her fiancé. Both men broke her heart
, and she isn’t sure it will ever heal. Pointing at herself in the mirror she says, softly, “Be firm.”
Shep stares at her as she walks towards him. “Refreshed?” he asks.
“Yes, thank you.”
“Lunch is being prepared. I had two trays sent to our cabin, so we can talk.”
“Thank you,” she says.
“Why is it that all our dates happen on a train?” Shep teases.
“This is not a date,” she quips.
“Maggie, I owe you an apology.” He takes her hand in his and holds it up to press a kiss to her knuckles. “I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me for getting you involved in this. I’m sorry.”
Staring at him, she can’t help but wonder at the complexity of God’s plan.
“I’m not,” she whispers. Her mind screams a warning, but her heart doesn’t care.
Shep lifts hopeful eyes to hers and her tear-filled eyes lock onto his.
“I wouldn’t trade a second of the moments that led up to meeting you Shepherd.”
“Maggie,” when he leans forward to kiss her, she stops him with a small hand over his mouth.
“But you know nothing about me, nor I about you. Considering you’re on a train bound for my family, perhaps we should work on that?” she teases.
Shep nods and bites her hand gently, causing her to jump in surprise. “Smart and beautiful,” he teases.
A knock at the cabin door has alarm flickering in her eyes. “First rule, never open the door alone.”
“Okay,” she murmurs and watches him draw his pistol. “I’ve got to get one of those,” she snaps, causing him to look at her with shock.
“What? Surely, they’re more effective than a knife,” she says as she follows him to the door.
“I shudder to think of you with a pistol, Miss Rose,” Shep slides open the door and stares down at the porter.
“Sir, I need to see your ticket.”
Maggie blanches at the thought of him being forced off the train. Shep feels her fist, the back of his coat in her hand.
“The first-class cabins are meant to house four people. I surprised my wife at the last minute. I was told I could upgrade my ticket on board?” Shepherd suggests, drawing out his wallet and pulling cash out.
“Yes, Sir.” The Porter smiles in relief. He lists the price, and the porter punches a ticket and hands it over. “Enjoy your journey, Mr. O’Malley.”
Shep closes the door and turns to her, “O’Malley?”
“My family name, is O’Malley.” Maggie is staring at him with large fear-filled eyes.
“I see.” He takes a step towards her, but she backs away from him. “I’m not leaving you again, Maggie. I will see you safely home, and we will let the authorities know about Clint attacking you.”
“Attacking me again, you mean.” She is pale and trembling again. “Why is he doing this? I don’t even know him.” She whirls and walks over to sit in a chair near the window.
“What do you mean again?” Shep sits across from her and leans forward.
“Oh, Shep, I have so much to tell you.” Maggie quickly fills him in on the attack at the hospital.
He runs a hand over his face. She outran six men. Clint isn’t taking no for an answer. This is much worse than he thought.
“Maggie, Clint’s Father was shot attacking Abbilene and her son. He died on the scene.”
“Are they okay?” she gasps.
“Yes, everyone is fine, but Clint ran before the attack. He left to go after you.”
“Why?” Maggie bites her lip nervously, “Shep, I had nothing to do with that. Why has he fixated on me?”
“I don’t know, Maggie, but I promise you he won’t get to you again.” Shep prays he can keep his promise.
“Why?” she demands. “Why are you helping me?”
“Because it’s my fault that you’re in this mess. I promise you will have your life back.”
“I see,” she glances out of the window, “Thank you, Shep.” Disappointment ripples through her. He’s here because he feels responsible. Exactly as she thought. He will leave as soon as he gets her home. Free of her and this mess.
“I suppose I should ask where we’re headed?”
“Little Falls, Minneapolis, sort of. I had to buy the first ticket leaving, and this one is going to Chicago. I’ll switch trains there. I wouldn’t go home if I had another choice. I don’t know what else to do,” Maggie whispers. “I shouldn’t take this danger to them, but I’m scared, Shep. Clint is crazy. He said vile things.” Maggie jumps up and paces, “I don’t even know them!”
Shepherd stands and pulls her close to him. She rests her head over his heart and draws comfort from him. “You aren’t alone any longer, Maggie.”
I’m always alone, Maggie thinks and turns away from his arms and touch. She swipes away a tear and sniffs. Alone is safer, she tells herself.
The porter knocks and rolls in a tray with lunch.
“Tell me about your family while we eat lunch.”
Chapter 8
Clint glares at the train as it leaves the station. He screams, enraged that she’s escaped him again and waves bruised and bloody knuckles.
People stay clear of his group as he approaches the ticket counter. “Tell me where that train is going?” he hisses.
“Yes, sir,” the clerk stammers as he digs through his papers. “That’s the Union Pacific line bound for Chicago.”
“When’s the next train leave?” he demands.
“That’s a connecting train, Sir. It only runs once a day.”
“We have to go, the police are coming,” his companion insists and grabs his arm.
“No!” He jerks away from his companions who curse and run.
“Give me a ticket on tomorrows train,” he slams money on the counter. The clerk hands over a ticket and watches nervously.
Clint leans over and sneers at the clerk, “Mention this to anyone and one of us will be back to finish you. Do you understand?”
Pale and trembling, the boy nods, “Yes, Sir.”
Clint runs from the train station using the alleys to get to the hotel. A shadow appears as he closes in.
“Clint, it’s time to let this go. The boys and I need to be paid!” A voice hisses as soon as he enters the alley beside the hotel.
He is stupid enough to laugh. “Really? For what exactly? Running when I need you? Or for letting the target escape again!”
“We didn’t sign on for this! Pay up!” A second voice says. Soon all four men have surrounded him.
“No. You will get paid when the job is finished!” Clint spits and reaches for his pistol.
The first punch catches him off guard. Clint falls, but is quick to leap to his feet. He is sorely outnumbered. They beat him and search his clothing for anything of value. Taking his watch, money and tossing his train ticket on the frozen ground.
Clint counts every punch, kick and scratch. Maggie will pay for each, and everyone. They knock him unconscious and take off, leaving his beaten body in the alley.
The sun is setting when he rolls over and spits out the blood that has pooled in his mouth. Moaning, he rises to his knees and waits for the dizziness to pass. Pain crashes in and he sneers, “Didn’t need them anyway!”
Struggling to his feet, he searches his pockets and realizes they have robbed him. They have probably ransacked his room as well.
“Not as stupid as those boys think,” he spots a white paper on the ground. He grins when he grabs his and realizes it’s his train ticket.
“Perfect.”
Clint ignores the startled looks as he makes his way to his room inside the hotel. Not the hotel room they ransacked. He always keeps a second room for safety and in this case, it will pay off.
After a shower and whiskey he sits on his bed and counts his money. “Almost gone,” he sighs.
“What do I do now?” It will take money to go after her. A light flickers outside his window catching his attention. He stumb
les to the window and takes a pull on the bottle, savoring the burn as it washes away the pain.
The windows of the church flicker to life, taunting him with their light. A grin spreads across his bruised face and smiles.
“I need to get out of town, but not before I make them pay for helping her.” Clint hurries to sit at his desk and make a list of supplies.
Chapter 9
“FIRE!” A voice shouts and soon other voices take up the cry.
“What’s happening?” a woman asks stepping outside of the Denver bank. The bells are ringing, and people are running.
“St. Francis Catholic Church is on fire!” A man shouts and runs to help. She rushes back inside the bank and yells and soon a stream of people run to watch and help if they can.
The beautiful spires are lit against the morning sky. Flames lick upward, and smoke pours into the clouds. It’s like watching a choreographed dance as the flames swirl and dance higher and higher.
Clint smothers a grin as he walks into the bank and lifts his mask into place to cover his face. As planned, it is empty except for three clerks.
“Good Morning! Do as I say, and I won’t hurt you.” He points his pistols at two young men, “Lock the doors,” he gestures with his pistols to them.
A young woman backs away in horror, shaking she watches at the men leave her standing to face this masked man.
“All right, beauty, while they do that, you fill up this bag with cash.” She stares at him but doesn’t move.
“Now!” Clint hisses.
“You won’t get away with this!” One of the young men says. Clint shoots him and ignores the scream coming from the woman behind him.
“Everyone’s busy,” his eyes snap to the second man. “Help her!” the man orders.
They move quickly, trembling they stuff cash into a bag and the man steps in front of the young woman to protect her.
“Back vault!” Clint hisses and watches as they hurry to the back room.
“Open it!” he shouts and points a gun at the woman’s head.
