Until Tomorrow

by Rosanne Bittner

  Only minutes ago she had been more at peace than she had been in years. She had managed to rise above the past, to find a way to start a new life and perhaps find happiness again. Now this. How much was a woman expected to suffer? Even if she managed to get away from these men, all her money was gone, and God only knew what might happen to her before she could escape. Perhaps they would just kill her and leave her body someplace where it would never be found.

  Nick could see the flames again, and again he heard the desperate screams. His girl! His precious baby! He had to help her … help her! He reached into the flames, and they seared his skin. It was the same dream he’d had a thousand times, and again it made him wake up in a sweat. He gasped, opening his eyes to the smell of medicine, the sight of a sterile-looking room and the sound of men’s voices.

  “Hang him,” someone said.

  “Don’t know if he’s the one that killed Richard,” said another.

  “Sheriff Page will catch them. Then we’ll know.”

  “What if he doesn’t? This one was with them. Whether he killed Richard or not, he deserves to be hanged.”

  “God only knows what will happen to poor Mrs. Kane. She ain’t been the most popular woman in town, what with her pa and husband fightin’ for the Confederates, but no woman deserves bein’ dragged off by rabble like that.”

  Mrs. Kane. Was that the name of the woman Jack had taken with him? Nick gritted his teeth and raised up on his right elbow, pain ripping through his left shoulder. More perspiration soaked his face as he looked down at his wound, which apparently had been carelessly bandaged for the moment to help stop the bleeding. From the burning pain there, he realized that no one had yet taken out the bullet. He knew that pain well, could still remember how it had felt in his leg when he was shot in the war.

  The war was what had led him to this, had taken Patty from him … and now he felt again the agony of being torn between what was right and what was wrong, the desire for peace and happiness in his life, and the desire for total revenge. He and the others in Jack’s gang had made a sorry mess of Howard Benedict’s bank, and he hoped Jack and the others had gotten off with enough money to cause the bank to fold. Most banks were pretty shaky, what with the uncertainty of things now that the war was over. He would like nothing better than to see Howard Benedict fail, which was why he had agreed to be in on this robbery, had even suggested it to Jack. Trouble was, he had intended to kill Benedict but didn’t get the chance. Besides that, a woman had been taken hostage. That was not part of the deal, and he had to try to help her.

  He looked around the room, his steely blue eyes taking in every corner, every window, every mode of escape. For some reason the men outside the room had left him alone for a while, probably figuring he was still unconscious. If he could get out of here …

  Damn that Jack Slater. He had no doubt what the man had in mind for Mrs. Kane. He had to get the hell out of here, find Jack and the woman. Besides, he did not intend to be hanged for a murder he did not commit, and he owed Jack Slater a dose of revenge. He was going to pay for shooting him point blank!

  “I’d better remove the bullet pretty quick,” came a voice from outside. “He’s lost a lot of blood. I was just waiting for that to slow down. I’ll try to get some laudanum down his throat, even though he’s unconscious. If he comes to while I’m digging into him, you’ll hear him holler from here to Missouri.”

  “Serves him right,” someone muttered.

  Nick scrambled to think what must have happened. He realized he still wore his pants and boots, so he must have passed out in the bank after he’d been shot and was carried here. He noticed his duster and hat hanging over a chair, and he saw something else that almost made him laugh out loud. His six-gun hung over the duster! The fools outside the room must have taken it for granted he was too badly wounded to regain consciousness, or that even if he did, he wouldn’t be able to move. He’d damn well prove them wrong!

  He quietly moved to the edge of the bed. He even still wore his shirt, although it had been torn away where his wound was bandaged. He realized his right arm was still in the sleeve, which was good. He didn’t have to try to dress himself.

  He struggled against pain and hoped he could remain conscious as he walked to the chair where his duster hung, glad for the rug on the floor that muffled his steps. He quickly put on the canvas coat, finding it difficult not to cry out as he managed to move his left arm into the sleeve. He donned his hat and picked up his gunbelt, and just then the door opened. Quickly he grasped the gunbelt with his left hand and pulled out his six-gun with a speed that astounded the man who stood in the doorway looking at him. “Get me a horse,” he demanded, his voice gruff from pain.

  The man in the doorway frowned, and another stepped up behind him. Nick realized that the rest of the men had left. He had only these two to deal with, and one of them was probably the doctor. He was a balding man who wore spectacles, and who frowned now with what seemed a mixture of disgust and concern.

  “Mister, you’ll never make it if you try to ride out of here. You have a bullet in your shoulder that’s got to come out or you’ll die.”

  Nick swallowed. “It’s a better way to go than with a noose around your neck. Besides, I didn’t kill that man in the bank. The man who shot me killed him, and I’m going after him. The posse can’t find them, but I can, and I intend to find that woman and send her back here.”

  “You really expect us to believe that, mister?” the second man asked.

  The doctor studied Nick’s blue eyes. “I think he means it, Brad. I don’t believe he really wants to use that gun on us, but I suppose he’s used it on plenty of other men. Even so, he seems to want to help Mrs. Kane, and maybe it would be better if we let him go.”

  “Even if he’s telling the truth, he’ll die on the way and never be able to get to her.”

  Nick raised the ivory-handled handgun, cocking it and aiming it at the man called Brad. “Mister, I hate to kill the doc here, but you probably aren’t so important. Now get me a damn horse! I’m not staying here, and time is wasting!”

  Brad’s breathing quickened with uncertainty. “There’s one down in the alley, just outside the window to your right. I tied it there myself. It’s mine, all saddled, and you’d better remember that if you ride away on it, you’ll also be a horse thief, besides a bank robber and possibly a killer.”

  “You’ll get it back somehow.” Nick moved toward the window, keeping his eyes on both men.

  “I can’t believe the sheriff’s men left his gun in the same room with him,” Brad told the doctor. “It just shows you how inept Page and his deputies are. This is a disgrace!”

  “Mister, let me take out that bullet first,” the doctor told Nick. “You can’t help that woman in your condition.”

  “There’s no time for it, and you’d have to put me out, wasting even more time. Besides, I’d wake up to jail and a hanging.” Nick glanced down to see a horse tied in the alley, and he realized the doctor’s quarters were on a second floor, but there were fire stairs just outside the window. “If you two are smart, you’ll keep quiet until I’m out of town. If I can catch up with the others, I can help Mrs. Kane. Otherwise she’ll end up dead … or wishing she was dead!”

  Dizziness swept over him, and he hoped he could get down the stairs without falling. The window was already open because of the warm day, and Nick leaned down and climbed out, then shoved the gun for the moment into the holster he still held in his other hand so that he could use his right hand to cling to the railing of the stairs while he gingerly made his way down. He glanced up at the window and saw no one, but he heard Brad yelling that they couldn’t just let him go. “I’ll never see Charger again!” the man complained.

  “Better never to see that damn horse again than poor Mrs. Kane,” the doctor answered.

  “Since when does anybody in this town care about a Confederate sympathizer!”

  “The war is over, Brad.
She’s just a woman in a bad situation now. Maybe Nick Coleman can help her.”

  Nick wondered at the remarks about Mrs. Kane and the war. He untied the horse and gritted his teeth as he climbed into the saddle and managed to throw his right leg over. The horse was not quite as big as the one he usually rode. In fact, he had to bend his legs to keep them in the stirrups, but there was no time for adjustments. He grasped the reins in his right hand and turned the horse, heading for the back side of the buildings, where he would be less noticed. He had already seen when he was mounting up that half the town was still gathered around the entrance to the bank, kitty-corner from the doctor’s office. They were so engrossed in the excitement they didn’t even notice him. He smiled to himself and lit out, kicking the horse into a fast gallop and realizing why the man named Brad was upset that he might steal the animal. It was a fine horse, strong, one that seemed to enjoy a good run. Charger was a fitting name.

  Behind him he could hear Brad screaming at people in the street below. “He’s gone! He’s escaped! Nick Coleman held a gun on us and stole my horse!” The words faded into the distance as Nick kept riding, and he figured that with the sheriff already out with a posse, there was probably no one left among the civilians in town who would dare to come after him. All he had to do now was avoid riding right into the hands of the posse. He could only hope they would lose the trail of Jack and the others. If it came to a shootout, Jack might kill Mrs. Kane.

  Amid pain and panic and the hard ride, Nick found himself thinking how lovely Mrs. Kane was, from what he could remember, with her porcelain skin and reddish hair, both of which reminded him of another woman … in another life. The look in those green eyes when Ted took her little money bag had tugged at his heart, and for some reason he had not wanted to rob her. It was Howard Benedict he’d wanted to harm, not a pretty young woman clinging to her last dime. He wondered how much time had passed. Enough for Jack to already have brought harm to her? From the position of the sun, he figured it was around noon. They had robbed the bank at ten o’clock. If he rode hard, he could make it to the cabin without passing out. He just might catch up in time to give Jack what he had coming to him before he raped Mrs. Kane.

  “Let it out, Charger!” he ordered the horse. “Let’s see how you earned your name!”

  The horse stretched its legs and ran like the wind, and Unionville was quickly left behind. In spite of his pain, Nick laughed at the stupidity of a sheriff who would lay an outlaw out in a room and leave the man’s gun hanging on a chair not far away. But then maybe that was meant to be, maybe an act of God. Maybe he was supposed to help the woman … and maybe it wouldn’t have been so important to him if she hadn’t looked so much like Bethanne. God, how he had loved her! And how he had loved the little girl she had given him, his sweet little Patty. Forever he would see those flames, feel the heat … hear her screams.

  Two

  Addy wiped at sweat on her forehead with the back of her arm, then slapped at a mosquito. She wondered how she was going to get one wink of sleep tonight. It was bad enough that she was hot, dusty from the hard ride, and would be fending off insects all night; but she would also have to keep one eye open in readiness to defend herself from the three men who watched her as they sat chewing on beef strips and drinking coffee … coffee she had been ordered to make for them over a campfire. They had stopped to rest after dark, in a deep ravine where Jack Slater claimed anyone following them would never spot the glowing flames.

  “You feel nature callin’,” Jack told her, chewing at the same time, “you can go right over there behind that big bush. Just don’t think about tryin’ to run off. You wouldn’t get far in the dark, and we’re pretty near the Kentucky border. These woods are so thick you’d never find your way, and at night they’re full of bobcats and bears. That’s why we lit a fire.” He tossed her a piece of rolled-up newspaper. “Use that when you’re done.”

  Addy turned away in revulsion.

  Jack smiled. “When the time comes, you remember I’m just this side of the bush. I’ll be talkin’ to you and expectin’ a reply the whole time, so’s I can hear your voice.”

  Cal drank down his coffee. “Why don’t you get it over with, Jack, so we can have our turn.”

  Addy felt sick to her stomach at the realization of the meaning of his remark.

  “Not here. We’ve got to be alert, and besides, there’s too many bugs out tonight. At the cabin there’s a bed, and she can clean herself up first. We’ll have the woman cook us a good meal, count our money and enjoy the whiskey we left there.”

  Addy felt at least a little relief that she had until sometime tomorrow to find an escape, and she was also glad this bunch of outlaws had not brought whiskey along. If they got themselves drunk tonight, there would be no hope of keeping them away from her.

  “You think Nick’s really dead? Where’d you hit him?” Ted asked.

  “Quit askin’ about Nick,” Jack answered. “I know you liked the sonofabitch, but I was tired of him arguin’ with me about the decisions I make. And yes, I told you before I think he’s dead. It all happened so fast, I can’t swear to where I hit him, but it seemed to me it was right in the middle of his chest, which means he’s already laid out for the townfolk to have a look at before he’s buried.”

  Ted frowned, biting off another piece of beef. “Nick was a good man to have along.”

  Jack stiffened. “What’d you say, boy?”

  Alarm came into Ted’s eyes. “You know what I mean. Nick was considered a sharpshooter in the war.”

  Addy guessed from their southern drawls that all of these men had fought for the South, but she was not about to ask and start an argument over North and South.

  “Well, he ain’t gonna’ be shootin’ at nobody no more,” Jack answered. “He’s strollin’ around up in heaven somewhere with that daughter of his he was always talkin’ about … maybe. Then again, maybe he’s roastin’ over open flames in hell.” He chuckled and Cal grinned, but Ted just pouted. “Think of it this way, boy. There’s one less man to share the money with.”

  “When are we going to count it?”

  “It’ll keep till we reach the cabin. You boys just get some sleep so we can light out of here bright and early.”

  Addy wondered at the remark that Nick had had a daughter. Why had he been living a life like this if he had a little girl somewhere? She remembered Nick Coleman’s remark at the bank, that she didn’t know the meaning of the word suffer. The look in those blue eyes when he said it told her he was indeed a man who had known personal loss, but he was a worthless outlaw just like these men. Still, she vaguely wished Nick Coleman was with them. Somehow she suspected he would not allow these other three to hurt her, would probably have talked them into letting her go by now.

  “You should all just leave me here in the morning,” she spoke up. “Having me along will only make the posse that is surely tracking you more determined. You must know you’re better off without me.”

  Jack snickered. “You ain’t gettin’ out of this that easy, lady. I know a way over some rocks and through a stream that will cause the posse to completely lose our trail by late morning, and the more I look at you, the more I know I want you with me when we reach our cabin in Kentucky.” He glanced at her left hand. “Don’t worry. It won’t be so bad. Hell, you’re wearin’ a wedding ring, so it ain’t like you haven’t been with a man. What’s two or three more?”

  All three men laughed at that remark, and stubborn anger filled Addy’s green eyes. She stood up, glaring at them. “Have you no pride or compassion? Pride in a man’s honor? Compassion for a widow?” She moved her wedding ring from her left to her right hand. “I have left this ring on my left hand in loving memory of my husband, but its rightful place is on my right hand! I am a widow, who has also lost both her parents! I was removing what pitiful savings I had left from the bank today so that I could go to Colorado and start a new life! I have suffered enough! I don’t need thr
ee slovenly, greedy, thieving men who have no honor pawing me against my will! How can you even call yourselves men!”

  Ted’s smile faded, but the other two kept grinning. “Because that’s what we are, lady,” Jack answered, “and you’ll find that out tomorrow in the best way a woman can.”

  “You’re scum,” Addy sneered, “and cowards!” She whirled and stormed behind the bush. All these hours she had forced back the urge simply because she abhorred the thought of having to lift her skirts with these men anywhere around, but now there was no fighting Mother Nature. She quickly squatted, watching in both directions on each side of the bush. “I’m right here, so you don’t need to come looking for me!” she shouted, afraid if Jack found her this way he would not be able to control himself.

  “Just hurry it up and keep talkin’,” came Jack’s voice.

  Addy used the newspaper the man had given her and quickly yanked up her drawers and pulled down her skirts, hurrying back around to the firelight. She glared at all of them. “None of you will ever be able to speak of pride or call yourselves men if you harm me,” see said, her breathing heavy, her green eyes on fire. “If you have any sense at all, you will release me in the morning!”

  “You shut your mouth, lady, or I’ll shut it for you,” Jack warned. He rose, coming to stand closer to her. “You don’t want me to do that.”

  Addy looked right back at him, head held high, but she could see by his dark eyes that he meant every word. This was the kind of man who was not above hitting a woman. She drew in her breath. “You’re so brave, using a woman to escape, threatening to brutalize her. How brave will you be, Mr. Slater, if Nick Coleman lives and escapes and comes to find you?” She took pleasure in the hint of fear in his eyes.