Under a Falling Star

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Under a Falling Star Page 4

by Caroline Fyffe


  His last memory was of her eyes filled with shimmery tears as she walked away from the mercantile. His sister and a friend had been teasing her again, until he’d come and put a stop to it. With a defiant tilt to her chin, Susanna had told Eloisa just what she thought of her haughtiness, then she’d turned away, but not before he’d seen her face crumble. He’d wanted to tell her he’d gotten a job with Wells Fargo and would be leaving, but lost his nerve. His attraction to her had always been one-sided.

  Maybe destiny had just given him another chance.

  A disgruntled shout in the distance jerked him back to the present. What had happened to Pat Tackly? He’d sure like to know. The head guard had hired Dalton the day before the shipment of cash was scheduled to leave. Somehow, Pat’s third man had gotten himself killed just hours before, and Pat needed another fellow good with a gun. Being Dalton had ridden guard for Wells Fargo for several years, he fit the bill. Dalton, pleased at the opportunity that had landed in his lap, had thought it over for a whole two minutes before accepting. The job paid more money in one month than his yearly salary riding guard on the Wells Fargo stage, and then some. Enough to send half back to his folks to help on the ranch. That was a pretty darn good return on his time.

  Dalton strode down the alley beside the hotel, and stepped up onto the boardwalk. The sun had set, but all the buildings of Logan Meadows were alive with lights and townsfolk.

  With the train a good half mile from town, he needed a wagon and tools. But most of all he needed trustworthy men. He passed by the saloon. A skinny fellow at the piano tapped out a tune with one finger as the bartender poured drinks to a full bar. Looked like things were picking up now that most people were settled. He halted in front of the sheriff’s office. He was under no obligation to inform the sheriff of his cargo, but he did have an obligation to protect the money. His best opportunity for help resided inside.

  He took hold of the brass doorknob and stepped through the door. A large wolf-like dog lying in front of a potbellied stove lifted his head, looked him over, then lay back down. The sheriff sat at his desk, writing. He appeared none too pleased by the interruption.

  “Yes?” The tone was curt.

  “I’m a guard employed by the First Bank of Denver. I need some help.”

  “You and a hundred others.”

  “That may be so, but in my case time is of the essence. I need tools and manpower to break into a specially built train car that’s bolted closed from the inside.”

  The lawman set his pencil down. “You helped with the big fellow today, isn’t that right?”

  “It is.” Dalton put out his hand. “Dalton Babcock from Denver, Colorado.” He extracted his officially stamped letter, stating he was an employee of the bank with authority over their cargo.

  The sheriff grasped his hand. “Albert Preston. Why’s it so darn important to break in? Can’t whatever’s inside stay locked up?”

  “It’s a guard who’s not responding—if he were, he’d be able to open the door. I’d like to get him some help as soon as possible, in case he’s still alive.”

  The sheriff nodded, understanding washing over his face.

  “And there’s also the small matter of a million dollars cash.” Sheriff Preston gave a loud whistle and his eyebrows arched. “The longer it remains unprotected, the more enticing the treasure becomes. I saw your bank on the way over. It secure? I believe locking the money up there is the best option until management from Denver can arrange transport.”

  “Nobody’s getting into Frank’s vault unless he opens it. I’ve never seen the like.”

  “And it’s large enough for that amount of money?”

  “It’s half the size of his back room—a joke until now when we need it.”

  “Good.” Dalton glanced out to the dark street. “The other two guards and myself have been closed mouthed about the cargo, but information like that has a way of getting out. Somebody had to pack it and schedule its transport. People know it’s en route. I’d like to get out to the abandoned train as soon as possible.” He directed his gaze back to the lawman. “The head guard was on the roof when the train hit and is still among the missing.”

  The lawman stood. “Let’s get moving then. I’ll find you a horse and ride out with you. I have some fellas out there now searching for anyone who was thrown from the train on impact. They’re my right-hand men. I’d trust any of them with my life.”

  “With a million dollars?”

  “You bet.” Sheriff Preston went to the gun rack, pulled out two rifles, and handed one to Dalton. He filled a saddlebag with bullets then headed for the door. “Let’s go see what we got.”

  It took less than five minutes to lope to Three Pines Turn. The stars were bright in the sky. None of the men Albert had sent out, including Chase Logan and Charlie Axelrose, were close by. The engine, the only car off the track, sat kitty-corner and a bit tilted behind a pileup of large boulders. It was a horrific sight, even the second time around. He and Babcock rode silently down the side of the eerily quiet train toward the money car.

  Albert pointed to several torches that shined like fireflies in the distance. “The searchers. The engineer hit the brakes when he came around the corner and saw the pileup directly before him, but couldn’t stop completely. With the length of the train, survivors could be as far back as a quarter mile.” He pulled out his sidearm and squeezed off a shot into the air to signal the others over.

  Babcock reined up before a dark train car.

  “This it?” Albert asked, glancing around.

  Babcock nodded, then dismounted. He strode over to the train and pounded on the side of the car. “Evan, can you hear me?” he shouted. He pounded some more. “Evan, knock on the side, or the floor, if you can’t talk.” After a moment, he looked back over his shoulder. “Nothing.”

  Babcock’s face was a mask set in stone. Death was never easy.

  Albert dismounted and dropped one rein to the ground. He made his way to the side of the train and met Chase, Charlie, and a few others as they rode up. “You find any bodies?” Albert asked.

  “Two. The undertaker’s been out already and hauled them away,” Chase Logan said, still sitting his horse.

  Babcock straightened. “Either of them big, over two hundred and fifty pounds?”

  Chase shook his head. He glanced at Albert and asked, “Whatta we have here?”

  “Chase, Charlie, I need your help. The rest of you can go back to town and see what needs doing. If there isn’t anything, go home and get some sleep. There’ll be plenty to do for days to come.”

  Three men nodded and rode off.

  “You’re sounding awfully mysterious, Albert,” Chase said, the stock end of the burning torch resting on his thigh. He looked Babcock over with a discerning eye. “The way you dismissed the others, I’d say you’re about to share something interesting.”

  “You know me too well, Chase. We need to break into this train car, but not until morning.”

  Babcock took a step toward him. “We need to get inside now! By morning Evan could be dead.”

  Albert ignored the man’s sharp tone. “I’m not risking the necks of these live men for someone who’s most likely dead already. The only way in would be through the air vents on top, and that may even be a bust. Working with heavy tools in the dark is not worth the risk. That’s my decision. We’ll begin at first light.”

  Babcock cut his gaze away, clearly unhappy with the turn of events.

  “Chase, I’d like you and Charlie to stay here and help stand guard until morning. Can you do that? Thom Donovan will relieve one of you after midnight, when he gets back from New Meringue, and I’ll do the same at one. Right now, I need to get back to Logan Meadows and keep an eye on the town. Whiskey’s flowing easy in the saloon.”

  He strode over to the men and handed over his rifle.

  Charlie’s brows lifted in speculation. “What’s inside? Seems if we’re risking our necks, we have a right to know. Can’t just
be a dead body.”

  “What I’m going to tell you goes no further. Mr. Babcock works for a bank in Denver and is moving some cash. One million dollars to be exact. One of their guards was thrown off the roof, and the other is locked inside, either dead or unconscious. After we get in, we’ll transport the money to the bank until arrangements can be made to get it on its way.”

  Chase looked none too pleased. “What about our families? Jessie’s still in town.”

  “I just spoke with her a little while ago. She said Gabe and Jake plan to take her, Sarah, and Shane home after the children she’s watching have been picked up. What about you, Charlie? Where’s Nell?”

  “Helping out at the Red Rooster Inn. She has Maddie with her.”

  “If you’re both agreeable, I’ll stop by and let both your wives know you won’t be home until sometime after midnight. I’ll make sure Nell and Maddie have an escort home, and I’ll send you out some grub.”

  The crickets were his only response.

  “Guarding someone else’s money don’t sit well with me, especially when there’re people in town who need tending, and a worn-out wife to look after.” Chase’s tone spoke to his displeasure.

  “Everyone who needs tending has been taken care of, Chase. This is where I need you now. But, just say the word and I can find someone else. We’ll begin work at first light.”

  Chase shifted in his saddle as he swiveled to look at Charlie. Charlie nodded. Babcock looked back and forth as the men talked, a frustrated expression on his face.

  “Fine, Albert, we’re in. You got yourself some guards.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Susanna stood near the front door of the infirmary, listening to instructions from Dr. Thorn, a man of endless energy. The thirty-two-year-old bachelor had methodically worked his way through the patients, most suffering from minor injuries like lacerations and bumps on the head. Miss Taylor lay in a liquor-induced sleep, moaning from time to time.

  Disbelief at seeing Dalton Babcock had pushed away all of Susanna’s fatigue. His sister had been the bane of Susanna’s existence, but Dalton had always been shy, hardly saying a word to her. Seeing his face here in Logan Meadows had brought a surge of bad memories—and a bushel of worries about what Dalton might tell someone about her past.

  “It’s time for you to go home and get some rest, Susanna,” Dr. Thorn said. The doctor’s usually combed, light-brown hair was mussed, and his intense green eyes that by now could easily be filled with exhaustion, burned with purpose. “You’ve been a huge help.” He glanced across the room to the bandstand where Brenna and Mrs. Hollyhock were slumped in their chairs. With her eyes clamped closed, Mrs. Hollyhock’s soft snores floated through the air.

  An affectionate gleam lit his eyes. “You’ve all been wonderful. Widow Brown is on her way here to take over for you.”

  “I can’t leave,” Susanna whispered. “I want to be here when Julia wakes up. She’s bound to feel horrible from the whiskey, let alone the pain from her broken arm. I’m not going anywhere.”

  His brow arched.

  “I’m not.” She firmed her mouth. “You can talk until you’re blue in the face, Doctor, but I plan to stay all night.”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “Some women are more stubborn than . . .” He snapped his mouth closed at her threatening look. “Fine then. At least take a break and get something to eat. How about I send the others home, and in the morning they can come back and relieve you?”

  “Yes, that’s perfect. I can—”

  At that moment, Albert stepped through the door, cutting off her sentence. His concerned expression sent a surge of pleasure through her. He took one look and pulled her into an embrace. “You’re exhausted,” he said next to her ear. His warm breath sent tingles dancing down her neck. He leaned back and looked around the dimly lit room. “You’re working her to death, John. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her this tuckered out.”

  Dr. Thorn pointed to the others. “They’ve all worked themselves to death, but it couldn’t be helped. And they aren’t finished yet. Susanna has just offered to stay here all night.”

  When Albert opened his mouth to protest, Dr. Thorn went on. “I’m needed at my office, Albert, and I really do need someone here. She’s good with the patients. I performed two surgeries that I must monitor. Now that I’ve seen to these patients, most just require nursing. Get her something to eat, and see that she gets off her feet for a good hour.” The doctor glanced at Susanna, then back at Albert. “Go on, now.”

  “That’s an excellent idea,” Albert said. “The Silky Hen is closed, but you have the key. I’ll fix you a plate of leftovers.”

  With Albert looking at her like that, and the doctor’s expression of gratitude, heat crept into Susanna’s face. “First, I want to take Mrs. Hollyhock home and tuck her in. If I don’t, she’ll get sidetracked helping someone else and forget about her own needs.” She gave Albert a beseeching gaze. “Can we do that?”

  “We can. Afterward, I’ll get some warm food into you and tuck you in.”

  “Albert!”

  He chuckled. “I’m just teasing. Go on and round her up, and Brenna too, if she’s also coming. I’ll find a buggy to borrow. There’re so many sitting around town I’ll have my choice. I’ll be back in five minutes expecting you to be ready to leave.”

  Within a half hour, Susanna and Albert had dropped Brenna at her home and Mrs. Hollyhock at the Red Rooster. The minute they’d walked through the door of the inn, Beth Fairington had pounced on Mrs. Hollyhock with a hundred complaints and issues, as if she’d been waiting for the tired old woman to come home and solve all her problems.

  Now, alone in the buggy, sitting close enough that their knees rubbed whenever they went over a bump, Susanna felt dizzy with happiness. Albert had come for her, to check on her, make sure she’d had something to eat. The Silky Hen was their next stop, and her empty stomach wouldn’t let her forget she’d worked up an appetite indeed. Pulling the buggy to a halt, Albert helped her to the ground. She fished for the restaurant key in her reticule.

  “Poor Brenna,” Susanna said as she handed the key over to Albert’s outstretched hand. He unlocked the door after a bit of a struggle, then stood back, letting her enter before him. “First her wedding, and now her honeymoon night. She and Greg had planned to stay at his rental since he has it until the end of the month and let Penny watch the children across the street. Now, with all the confusion, she’s afraid the little ones might be frightened. She’s staying at home and Gregory is at his place.”

  “That is a real shame. Everyone has been looking forward to them finally tying the knot. I’m sure they must be disappointed.”

  They walked through the quiet restaurant. Hannah and Daisy must have been swamped. The place, although straightened up, needed a good cleaning.

  In the kitchen, Albert lit a lantern and glanced around, his bemused expression so unlike him. “Lord Almighty! Looks like a tornado went through here. I’ve never seen this place look such a shambles.”

  “Albert,” she got out on a half laugh, her tone scolding. He knew exactly how to cheer her up. “But you’re right. They’ll need help tomorrow when there’re more mouths to feed than plates to serve them on. I’m worried about running out of supplies, not just here but all over town. How on earth can we feed all these people?”

  Albert turned her into his arms, his face alight with emotion. “That’s not your concern, Susanna. You can’t do everything. If you keep up at this pace, you’ll make yourself sick, then you won’t be any help to anyone.” The tender look in his eyes belied his stern tone. It was then, in the quiet room with shadowy light, that the weight of his hands on her shoulders made her insides turn to mush. The shape of his lips curled up at the corners had the power to chase every coherent thought from her head. She’d never dared let herself imagine what being in love would be like. She couldn’t, and shouldn’t, be the one to speak her feelings first. She remembered her mother’s cautionary words.<
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  They’ll love you and leave you as sure as there’s a sun in the sky, Susanna. As soon as they know they have you, they’ll throw you away. Don’t repeat my mistake. Doing and caring for a husband, only to have him break your heart with someone else is something you’ll never get over.

  Susanna may have been just a girl, but she’d been smart enough to know most of the men her mother had told her to address as “pa” weren’t married to her mother at all. And it seemed her mother had gotten over each abandonment quick enough to take up with someone else. Susanna remembered their wolf-like eyes following her every move whenever her mother wasn’t around. She couldn’t even remember her real father’s face in the blur of men that had paraded through their shanty.

  Men don’t mean to, but they crave what’s on the other side of the pasture, Susanna. Mark my words or else you’ll end up exactly like me, penniless and alone, alone, alone . . .

  “Susanna?” Albert gave her a gentle shake. His gaze dropped to her mouth, making her insides feel feathery light. “You’re asleep on your feet.” He led her over to the small table in the corner and pulled out a chair. “You’re going to sit down here and not say a word until I have some food in front of you.” He gave her a stern look. “Understand?”

  She didn’t want to sit. She wanted him to kiss her—finally—to put an end to her wondering what it would be like. Seeing all this misery made her realize how fragile life could be—and just how fast things could change. Maybe her mother was wrong, and she should tell Albert how she felt about him.

  “Susanna?”

  She nodded, then lowered her aching body onto the cane-backed chair. She set her chin in the palm of her hand and watched as Albert marched to the cold box in the next room and brought out tonight’s leftovers, a platter with a half-eaten roast. Setting it on the counter, he opened the oven and stuck in his hand. “Still hot.” He sliced off several chunks of beef and set them on a plate, and then into the oven. Opening the stove’s small lower door, he added some wood and stirred the coals.

 

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