Wild Winds

by Janelle Taylor

  “I’m scared and I’m desperate, Maggie,” Newl continued, “and becoming more so with each hour that passes. I’ve taken every legal step I could find to get Ben out of this horrendous predicament, but nothing has worked. And Ben’s lawyer has used every loophole and trick he could think of, to no avail. That detective is stumped, too. I don’t want to hire a gang of outlaws to ride into Yuma to free him because innocent people could get injured or slain and that would make matters worse for Ben. If you don’t help us, Maggie, my son will suffer terribly and maybe die. At least go to Yuma and check out the situation for yourself, see if it’s possible to engineer a rescue without endangering yourself. Whatever you decide, I won’t hold it against you. But one way or another, I’m getting my son out while he’s still alive.”

  Against her better judgment, Maggie told herself there was no harm in going to Yuma to analyze the situation. Surely that was kinder than refusing outright to do anything useful. Once she got there, perhaps she would find or think of something that might at least get Ben’s case reopened. And she’d see Abby. She pushed long strands of light-brown hair with golden streaks behind her ears and focused her blue gaze on Newl. She had gone into her line of work to face challenges, to experience stimulating adventures, and to uphold the law, so what better way, she reasoned, to achieve those goals than by agreeing to her stepfather’s request? After she looked the area over, if an escape didn’t appear just and feasible, she wouldn’t make the attempt. Besides, if she handled this, she could prevent the violence and bloodshed that would surely result from Newl’s alternate plan. “Give me a few minutes to study the things you brought along and to think about this matter from all angles; then I’ll give you my answer.”

  Newl gave her a quick hug. “That’s fine. Catherine and I will sit quietly on the bed while you use the table and chair. Ben will love you forever for rescuing him, Maggie, and so will I. You won’t regret helping us; I swear it. If anything goes wrong, I’ll use every dollar and breath I have to rescue you.”

  Maggie’s quick mind scoffed, If your money, power, and energies have failed to help your son, what makes you think you can use them to save me? Yet, she said, “Thank you, but I hope it won’t be necessary.”

  Catherine worried aloud as she grasped her daughter’s hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze, “I know you’re highly skilled in your work, Maggie, but don’t take any risks.” She was so proud of her daughter, but she lived in constant dread of being informed Maggie had been killed or injured badly in the course of an investigation. What she wanted most was for Maggie to meet a good man, get married, have children, and be safe, and preferrably close by in Tucson. She urged in a strained voice, “If no safe opportunity arises, please don’t attempt a rescue. Like Newl, I would die if anything happened to my only child, my beloved daughter.”

  The women embraced for a minute. Afterward, Maggie gazed into Catherine’s tear-filled blue eyes and said, “Don’t worry, Mother, if I can’t pull this off without endangering myself, I won’t try it.”

  “You promise?”

  “Yes, Mother, I promise. Now, relax while I go over this material.” Please, God, help me find at least one useful clue to save us all from certain jeopardy and misery.

  Hawk Reynolds slipped out of a window to the room next to the one he had watched Newl Carver and his wife enter earlier that evening. While awaiting the cover of darkness, he had paced the floor and wondered what was going on in there. He had been informed by a friend in Tucson who worked at the Paradise Club that Carver was secretly seeking somebody to bust his son out of Yuma Prison. He had been en route to hire on for that job when he saw the couple arrive in town shortly after he did. He trailed them to this hotel and registered in the room next door. He suspected—from the satchel Carver had brought along, probably loaded with money, and from Carver’s covert actions—that Carver had found a man to do the dirty task for him, a position Hawk needed desperately if he was going to obtain his revenge. Not if, he told himself, but when. Those bastards were going to pay for what they had done to him and his family! Even if he had to eliminate his competition.

  When night had fallen, Hawk sneaked along the porch roof to reach his target, his bare feet moving soundlessly on the shingles. He had removed anything that might make a noise, and knew his black garments masked his presence. Those were precautions partly learned from his mother’s people, the Cheyenne, and partly from experience in his line of work. He was relieved the two rooms were located at the rear of the hotel and his had been available. He was also fortunate that the recent new moon was still little more than a dark ball in the sky and helped obscure his actions. He saw ivory lace curtains fluttering in a steady breeze. He halted, pressed his back against the building, and listened.

  Newl reiterated their plan to make certain it was clear, “Catherine and I will leave in the morning, and we’ll have no further contact here since we can’t risk any of us being seen together even in Wilcox. She’ll get off the train in Tucson and return home while I continue on to Yuma and tell Ben the good news. You’ll leave Monday afternoon; that will put you in Yuma Tuesday evening, after I’ve returned home so we won’t be there at the same time. I’ll take care of your horse while you rescue Ben.” He paused before asking Maggie, “Do you have everything you’ll need?”

  “I think so. I’ll keep you informed of my location and progress using the code we discussed earlier. Tell your son to do whatever is necessary to stay out of trouble with the other prisoners and with the guards. If he gets himself tossed into the Dark Cell again or taken off road work, there’ll be no way I can get to him.”

  “Don’t worry, he’ll do anything you tell him; I promise.”

  “After this is over, Maggie, you and Ben can return home and settle down here.” As Catherine hugged her daughter, she whispered in her ear, “Take care of yourself. I love you.”

  Maggie hugged her mother and whispered in return, “I’ll be careful, and I’ll be seeing you again soon, for a long and quiet visit. I love you.” She looked at her stepfather and said, “Good-bye, Newl.”

  Newl sent her a wry smile. “I know I haven’t given you any choice in this matter, but I’ll make it worth your while after it’s settled.”

  “I’ve told you I’m not doing this for money; as you said, I have no choice but to give it my best effort. Besides, I have a feeling Ben would do it for me.”

  “Yes, Maggie, he would. Good-bye and good luck.”

  “I’ll need more than simple luck to pull off a jailbreak from Yuma Prison without getting me and Ben in worse trouble. Good-bye, and I’ll send you a report soon, hopefully a good one.” But I doubt it.

  Hawk was astonished by what he overheard. He was astounded that Newl Carver would hire a female for such a daring and perilous job. He wasn’t convinced even he, with all of his skills and training, could pull off a break at Yuma Prison, and was certain a mere woman couldn’t do so. From what they had said, he hadn’t learned why she was taking such an awesome risk. It didn’t sound as though she was Ben’s sweetheart or as if she really believed it when she said, “Ben would do it for me.” He wondered if she was a criminal whom Carver was forcing to do his dirty work, since she had said money wasn’t her motivation and she had “no choice.” Yet, they were on a first-name basis, as if they knew each other well. Who and what was this Maggie? What kind of “job” did she do that would qualify her to be considered for such a feat? Why was she willing to risk her life and freedom to help the Carvers? Perhaps answers to those questions had been given before his arrival, or during those whispered words between the women that he couldn’t overhear.

  After the couple left, the woman bolted the door, then she approached the window, took a deep breath of fresh air, and closed and locked it. Before he could sneak a peep inside, the drapes were drawn. With caution, he crept back to his room. Somehow, he resolved, he had to get a look at her, but make certain she didn’t notice him. At least he knew her schedule and plans, so he wouldn’t have
to risk exposing himself to glean those facts. If he shadowed this mysterious woman and she miraculously succeeded, Ben would be on the loose to lead him to his cohorts. Then the last three members of that gang would be within his reach; and they would all pay dearly just as the other two had! Plus, if she succeeded, Ben would surely trust and confide in her faster than the sorry bastard would in him! If not, he would wrangle the facts he needed out of Ben, and there would be nothing Maggie could say or do to stop him from exacting his revenge.

  He told himself he wouldn’t feel bad about using her in any way necessary to get to Ben Carver, Pete Barber, and Slim Jones, even though she was a female and his mother and grandmother had taught him to respect and defend women. Since she had an unknown connection to Ben and was about to commit a serious felony for him, she deserved whatever misfortune fell upon her head.

  For all he knew, this Maggie could be a member of Barber’s gang. During his travels, he had run into several highly skilled and daring female outlaws, females who often disguised themselves as men while committing crimes. For certain, she was in for the biggest trouble of her life if that was true or she tried to interfere with his plans! Maybe she owed Ben a favor for getting her out of peril in the past and she was trying to repay that debt. Perhaps Barber or Jones had asked or was forcing her to get their cohort out of prison.

  No matter her motive or identity, if she failed in her task, he had a valuable ace up his sleeve to make sure he didn’t…

  Maggie changed into a nightgown, doused the oil lamp, and got into bed. It wasn’t late, but she was tired. The train ride from Sante Fe had been noisy, bumpy and hot. And now, she had a heavy burden on her shoulders. She should have guessed that something was amiss when her mother responded to her telegram with such a confusing and mysterious message, saying to meet them at this hotel in Wilcox, a railroad town eighty-one miles southeast of Tucson.

  What have I gotten myself into? This reckless action could cost me everything. How can I possibly carry off such a crazy scheme?

  Even as she posed that last question to herself, Maggie’s adventurous and keen mind was spinning with clever ideas. She felt excited, frightened, reluctant and eager, all at once.

  As she lay in darkness and deliberated the just-as-dark situation, Maggie realized the important question was not if she could do it but if she should do it. If Ben was innocent, shouldn’t she try to save him? If she refused and he was hanged or died in the prison, Newl would never forgive her, no matter what he had said earlier. That resentment and bitterness could wreak havoc on their family life, trapping her mother between her husband and daughter.

  Her mother had to believe that Newl’s urgent request was the right and only thing to do. If not, Catherine would have somehow let Maggie know. There was no way Catherine Malone Carver would endanger her only daughter’s life and freedom just to please or to prevent displeasing her husband of two years.

  Go to Yuma on schedule and study the situation at close range, Maggie told herself, then make your decision to either retreat or advance. Right now, get to sleep; you need the rest and a clear head for tomorrow.

  On Sunday night, Maggie lay in the darkness once more with thoughts of her impending actions racing through her head. All preparations had been made and all precautions had been taken to accomplish them.

  Yesterday, her mother and stepfather had left Wilcox, taking her beloved roan with them to be stabled in Tucson during their separation. She had purchased her train ticket to Yuma, along with one for Ben from that town to Sante Fe; that one would appear to be for her return trip if somehow seen in her possession. She had sent excess belongings with her mother to allow room in the secret compartment under a false bottom in her trunk for the items she must deliver to Ben. She had telegraphed Abby to ask if she could visit her this week, and Abby had returned a quick and enthusiastic response. She had written a page of explanations and instructions for Ben to carry out following his escape, which she would conceal with the other items somewhere near the prison, in case Newl lacked the privacy to reveal their plan to him. Later, she would write Ben a note giving their location and find a way to pass it to him. She had made sure to sign her name and identify herself as his stepsister to avoid any extra confusion on his part.

  She had attended an Easter service at a small church this morning, and had eaten her meals downstairs at the least busiest hours; otherwise, she had kept to her room yesterday and today to study Ben’s case and to avoid calling attention to herself, though she now had a credible explanation for being in Wilcox while en route to the Mercers.

  Tomorrow, she would bathe, dress, and eat before boarding the oneo’clock train to Yuma. She was fortunate that one of the newer styled cars had a sleeper compartment available so she would have privacy and rest along the way. The thirty-hour journey had many stops and a pace that was slower than a stagecoach’s swift run between waystations.

  Heaven, help me if I’m exposed. As for my unknown stepbrother, if I discover he’s guilty after I bust him out. I’ll do whatever is necessary to track him down and send him back where he belongs!

  It wasn’t too late to change her mind, Maggie told herself, but she knew she couldn’t do so. Ready or not, she would be on her way soon.

  Chapter

  Two

  Maggie knew the sun would be setting around seven o’clock, her arrival time, but it would remain light enough to see outside for an hour or so beyond that time. Despite the train’s open windows, the air rushing inside the cars was hot and dry, the temperature still lingering above the mid-eighties. While eating in the dining area provided in this more costly hotel car, she had learned that it rarely rained in Yuma, but when it stormed, usually it was a harrowing and powerful assault with fierce thunder and lightning and strong winds. That, along with excess water from either or both of the nearby rivers, could create a dangerous flood that threatened to wash away the lowlying town.

  She used a handkerchief to collect the perspiration gathered on her flushed face and hoped her blue day dress wasn’t getting wet and stained with the salty moisture. Her light-brown hair was secured with a matching ribbon at the nape of her neck, but that style did little to help cool her. She longed for a bath, a refreshing drink, for the rolling motion and noise of the train to cease. It had been two and a half years since she had seen Abby. Maggie could hardly wait to see her friend again and her elation steadily increased.

  As Maggie’s thoughts roamed in many directions, she studied the arduous landscape which had remained almost the same since leaving the Maricopa Wells station, almost since pulling away from Tucson. At times, it had been thick with mesquite, palo verde, acacia, desert willow, white sage, creosote bushes, ocotillo with its lovely red blooms, prickly pear, and other varieties of cacti and wildflowers. On occasion, the saguaros had been so abundant that it looked like a vast forest of them. Their sizes and shapes were fascinating, and for a while, she had played a mental game of imagining the things those shapes reminded her of.

  She had sighted kestrels capturing mice, doves nesting on the huge arms of those mammoth plants, great horned owls sitting atop lofty cacti limbs, and hawks circling overhead. She had been told the rattlesnakes, venomous gila monsters, scorpions, and tarantulas had to escape the blazing sun during the day while awaiting nightfall to seek their prey.

  She journeyed through a near circle of distant and dark mountains and seemingly endless stretch of rugged desert where the sandy ground was nearly barren except for a sprinkling of low scrubs. For certain, there was no way a rider—a fleeing convict—could conceal himself on that terrain.

  Then the tracks drifted closer to the Gila River and the Muggins, Gila, and Laguna mountains where the greenery returned in abundance. Maggie paid keen attention to the remaining stops and topography along the Southern Pacific route. In particular, she made mental notes about the sidings at Adonde and Dome where the steam engine halted for water and where a few passengers either boarded or deboarded or goods were unloaded. Either
site would be an ideal location for Ben to sneak onto the train; hopefully he would go unrecognized in the disguise and civilian clothing she would conceal for him. She noted the distances and terrain her stepbrother must cover in order to reach those areas. Newl had told her that Ben was familiar with this section, so it would be up to him to make it this far either walking, using the Gila River, or riding a stolen horse. There was no safe way she could purchase a mount and hide it for him to use, not without casting suspicion on herself if their relationship was discovered and she was investigated.

  Soon, Yuma loomed ahead in the lowlands at the confluence of the Gila and Colorado rivers, a long stone’s throw from the California border beyond the swift flowing Colorado River. The town appeared larger than she had imagined from Newl’s description and the sketches he had provided. Mountain ranges, varying in heights and widths, were visible in every direction. With fertile valleys located eastward and southwestward, the many hues of green and abundant water were welcome sights following those dry and drab ones left behind. Even so, the treacherous Sonoran Desert was wildly beautiful in its spring glory.

  As the train slowed to a near crawl to work its way down Madison Avenue toward the river and railroad station, Maggie’s gaze was glued to the steep bluff and high adobe walls of the Yuma Territorial Prison atop it, its many guard towers silhouetted against a brilliant sunset. Her fingers absently touched the Remington derringer in her dress pocket, as if it could protect her from the tingle of danger that swept over her. She took a deep breath and swallowed with difficulty, her throat suddenly gone dry and tight.

  She jumped and almost squealed when the train’s whistle sounded to let townfolk and passengers know they had arrived and would be stopping soon. Relax, Maggie, you haven’t done anything wrong yet, and you may not honor Newl’s request after you have a look around. For now, don’t think about anything except your reunion with Abby and her parents.