by Jodi Thomas
Hallie walked from the kitchen and also spotted Victoria. “Who’s that big fellow?” she asked.
“I don’t know, but I plan to find out.” Jealousy was something new to Killian and he didn’t like the fit.
Suddenly, Hallie screamed and almost knocked him down running off the porch.
Killian watched as the big man lowered the trunk and caught Hallie in midflight. He swung the woman around like she was no more than a willowy girl.
Victoria smiled and rushed to join Killian. “Isn’t it wonderful?”
“Isn’t what wonderful?” Killian didn’t see anything to be happy about. “Who is that holding Hallie?”
Victoria laughed. “It’s Shawn, your brother. He’s come to help.”
Memories whirled in Killian’s mind. The big brother he remembered when he’d been four. A body on the battlefield covered in blood. The ghost who’d picked him up once when he was drunk and carried him home. The man before him, muscular and scarred.
“Shawn?” Killian said the name low, but the big man must have heard him.
He set Hallie down and walked alone to Killian. He didn’t seem to know what to say, but he raised his face and stared directly.
“Is it really you, Shawn?” Killian was afraid to hope.
The stranger nodded and Killian saw a tear fight its way down the scarred face. “What’s left of me.”
Killian took one step toward his big brother and then they were locked in a hug so tight it crossed all the years they’d been apart.
“How you doing, little fella?” Shawn asked as if the six-foot judge were no more than a small boy.
When they finally separated, everyone laughed and hugged. Killian felt like a fool introducing his brother to Victoria, who seemed to be Shawn’s good friend. In fact, Shawn called her honey as if they’d known each other forever.
Hallie called his brother Stitch. As soon as the hugs were over she began complaining that now she’d have to cook up a half dozen more eggs, but Killian didn’t think she’d mind. “I’ll put pepper on yours like you like them, but I think it’s an insult to the chicken to do so.”
Stitch put his arm around Hallie and squeezed just to hear her squeal as they all moved inside.
They’d just gotten settled at the kitchen table when Duncan and Rose came through the front door with Abe Henderson in tow.
To Killian’s surprise, Abe knew his brother too. They’d been traveling together to catch up with everyone. Abe said when Stitch asked him to come along and help, “no” wasn’t one of the choices he offered.
Killian stopped the rapid-fire conversations all around him with a sudden yell. As soon as all were silent, he asked, “Does everyone here know my brother but me?”
“Yes,” they all said at once, and went back to talking.
Frustrated and confused, Killian looked at his wife for help and he found it. Her warm smile said it all. No matter what else was going on in the world today, at this moment in time he was the luckiest man alive.
She moved near and put her arm around his waist. “I told you I’ve been talking to Shawn.”
“You did.” He kissed the top of her head and noticed no one in the room was paying any attention to them so he kissed her cheek. “Are you all right about last night?”
She didn’t look up, but she whispered, “I don’t know, Killian.” She moved an inch away. “Maybe we could do it again tonight before I decide.”
Killian laughed, loving her humor. “We can do it as many times as you like. Take all the time you need to make up your mind.”
She moved back beneath his arm. “It could take years.”
“I’ll try to hold up.”
Chapter 42
An hour later, Duncan McMurray climbed in the lead wagon. “I don’t understand it,” he mumbled more to himself than Rose. “For years, when I wake, it takes maybe five or ten minutes to be in the saddle and heading out. How come it takes us an hour? Seems like with all the help it should take less time, not more.”
“We had to load and pack a meal. Stitch had to make sure he could board his wagon, though heaven knows when he’ll be back by this way to pick it up. Victoria always has trouble with her hair in the morning and everyone had to use the same privy.”
“I’m sorry I asked,” Duncan said. At least they were on the way and would make great time, or so he thought. Within an hour Stitch signaled for a stop because Hallie had to run to the trees. Fifteen minutes later, Killian stopped them all so Victoria and Epley could make a visit.
Duncan declared there would be no more stops, but when Rose tugged on his sleeve an hour later, he pulled up without a word.
By noon he turned the reins over to Rose and untied his saddled horse. Stitch took the lead with Killian and Victoria on the bench with him. Duncan knew Stitch would up the pace and Killian said he was familiar with the road from here on. By traveling across open country, they’d cut some time off the trip.
“Be careful,” Rose whispered as he slowly climbed up on a horse. “You’re not completely healed, Duncan.”
“If I promise, what do I get?”
“To live,” she said, smiling sweetly as if she had no idea what he was hinting he wanted. “Otherwise you’ll probably bleed to death.”
Duncan rode back over the trail they’d just traveled and stopped his horse on a ridge where he could see the land stretch for miles. If Myers and his men were following, they’d be kicking up dust and he’d see them in plenty of time to warn the others.
He smiled at the silence around him. This was what he loved. The wildness. The solitude. The stillness as if he were the only man between heaven and hell. Reason told him that someday he’d get too old to be a ranger and he’d have to settle down, but he figured when that happened he’d miss this life for the rest of his days. He’d probably get used to sleeping in a bed and eating three meals a day on a regular basis, but he’d never get over the adventure. The feeling of always needing to be fully alive.
After a half hour, he turned his horse and rode back toward the wagons, scanning the landscape for a new place to serve as lookout. He never rode near enough to the wagons for them to know he was there, but now and then he’d catch sight of them winding through the rolling hills.
By midafternoon and still no sign of horses riding toward him, Duncan knew they were safe. If trouble came now, they’d have a good chance of outrunning it. Unless the kid with the teamsters had been wrong, they were within an hour of the station. From there it would only be a two-hour trip to Anderson Glen Station. Even though they were a day later than planned, it would still be good to be close to Whispering Mountain.
He backtracked once more and looked north. The road was still clear and to the south he could see the outline of a water tower. Low on the horizon, dark clouds were brewing and Duncan had the feeling that one way or the other they were heading into a storm.
Watching for another fifteen minutes, Duncan smiled. They were going to make it. This odd little mixture of people had outrun trouble. He turned his horse and rode hard toward the wagons.
They were already pulling the wagons alongside the station before he reached them. If possible, this stop for water was more desolate than the one at the last station. Not even an old stagecoach house marked the beginnings of a town, just a small four-foot-wide shack of a ticket office and corrals with chutes built for loading cattle. A quarter mile from the water tanks was what looked to be the remains of a mission and Duncan could make out a small cemetery just beyond.
He stared at the weathered crosses, thinking that cemeteries sprang up faster than towns in this part of the country. Life since the war had been hard, but he could feel things finally settling down. Thanks to the railroad and cattle drives, brighter days were coming.
The train was nowhere in sight. Small runs like this one were often late and never early. Duncan’s only worry was that someone might find them before the train made it in.
No one in the wagons felt safe. All seemed on g
uard. Stitch and Killian paced the platform, keeping watch. All the women sat with a gun nearby. Abe stayed in the wagon even though they’d moved the horses to one of the corrals. No one talked except in short sentences. They all just waited, needing the silence to feel safe.
Finally, they heard the low whistle of a train and all moved into action. By the time the train pulled in to take on water, everything and everyone was ready to be loaded. They took the horses but left the wagons. Victoria, in her funny way, left little notes on each of the wagon benches that said, Take me, I’m yours. She signed each note, The wagon.
Duncan bought tickets for Anderson Glen and they all moved into the first of three passenger cars. It was crowded, and they moved slowly. He couldn’t help but study the people. Families mostly. One group of men, who looked like gamblers heading for greener pickings, sat in the back. A half dozen young Harvey girls were traveling down the line to one of Fred Harvey’s many cafés.
“We’re safe,” Rose said as she took the seat next to Hallie. “In a few hours we’ll be in Anderson Glen. If no one is there to meet us, we can spend the night at the hotel and drive to Whispering Mountain in the morning. There’s nothing more beautiful than crossing onto our land with the morning sun.”
Hallie frowned. “I don’t like the country. Never have. I grew up on the plains. Nothing but grass and buffalo chips.”
Rose smiled. “How do you like towns?”
“Not much. Too many people.”
Duncan grinned at Hallie’s words. Sometimes he felt the same way. No matter where he was, he was wishing for the other. He patted Rose on the shoulder and followed Stitch to the platform out back, thinking he’d feel safe when he made it back to Whispering Mountain too.
“Did you check the other passenger cars?” he asked the big man.
Stitch shook his head. “The guy who took my ticket said they were full except for the last one. He said some cowboys had blocked it off so they could smoke. Wouldn’t even let the gamblers come in.”
“I might take a walk through.” Duncan had seen cars claimed by groups before. Most of the time it wasn’t worth causing trouble over. Men who didn’t like to travel with the masses were usually the same men the masses didn’t want, so it worked out well. “You mind staying here on the platform and standing guard until I get back?” He felt movement and knew they were rolling.
“I was already planning on it,” Stitch said. “Killian told me he’d be at the other end.”
“Good.” Duncan moved away, jumping to the next platform as the train rattled into action.
In the last rays of the setting sun, he saw two riders step from their horses onto the far end of the train. Both looked well armed. From habit, Duncan checked his guns. Maybe they were just men running late, he thought, or they could be train robbers joining their gang. When he’d investigated a few of the Tanner robberies, witnesses had said half the men were already on the train when the other half rode up on horseback. One witness even commented that the train had slowed just before the robbery, but nothing was ever proven that connected the robbers with the conductor.
Something didn’t feel right and Duncan hadn’t lived for years as a ranger without trusting his feelings.
He took his time moving down the aisle of the second passenger car. There were several hard men on this one and not as many families. The atmosphere was louder, rougher. He heard swearing and arguing. He took note of every man wearing a gun.
When he stepped out on the third platform, he took a deep breath of fresh air and leaned down to pass through the next car.
Out of nowhere, something slammed against the side of his head and Duncan crumbled.
His last thought before he blacked out was that he had to get to Rose. He had to get home.
He felt like he was swimming in inky waters as someone lifted him roughly and shoved him into a dark place. His hands were bound so tightly he couldn’t feel his fingers and a bag that smelled of dirt was shoved over his head.
After a while the pounding eased in his skull and he could make out voices swearing. One he recognized as Jeb Tanner. “I say we kill him now,” Tanner kept repeating.
Another man kept ordering in a low tone, “No. We stick with the plan.”
Duncan struggled, trying to kick anything close by. Once, he connected and heard someone scream in pain. A moment later blow after blow began to slam against his chest and ribs. Whoever was retaliating planned to do as much damage as possible. Duncan felt something damp on his shoulder and knew stitches had pulled free. He was bleeding again.
A hard kick to his head landed him back in the inky water and he stopped worrying about anything for a while.
When he came around again, another body lay partly over his legs. Jeb’s whiny voice was begging for the kill. “We can kill this one, can’t we? He’s the reason your wife ran off. He stole her from you.”
The low tone of another man came again. “No. You can’t kill him. He’s a judge. All hell breaks loose when you kill a judge or a ranger, so stop asking.”
Duncan listened, but he didn’t hear Killian speak. Either they’d knocked him out cold, or he was smart enough to know that no matter what he said, it wouldn’t matter.
The train rattled on as Duncan remained still and tried to figure out how many voices he heard.
Five, six, a dozen, he couldn’t be sure.
All he could figure out was these outlaws were collecting the men in his party one at a time and soon all that would be left were the women. Also, it made no sense for even a dozen men to pick this train to rob. There wasn’t even a mail car among the passenger cars and he counted two dozen men traveling in the first few cars who were well armed and would return fire if the outlaws started shooting.
He tried to concentrate. An old ranger, who’d managed to stay alive until retirement, had told him once that no matter how bad things get, the devil always gives a man one chance.
One chance, Duncan thought. He’d be ready when it came. If it came.
Chapter 43
Rose watched the others. Epley was two rows ahead with Victoria. They were both asleep with Victoria’s luggage scattered around them. Hallie stared out the window next to Rose and Abe sat a few seats up as if he were on guard. She hadn’t seen Stitch or Killian in a half hour and Duncan had disappeared completely.
As quietly as she could, she slipped from her seat and moved to the front of the car. She’d expected to find Killian on guard, but he wasn’t there. The platform was empty.
A few minutes later when she passed Abe, he whispered, “Where’s Killian?”
Rose slowly shook her head.
Abe stood and followed her through the car to the far end. When they stepped out in the cold wind, no one was there to greet them. Lightning flashed, blinking daylight for a moment before blackness returned. After a second of panic, they saw Stitch sitting on the steps, his feet hanging off the train, his head low.
Rose knelt and lifted the man’s hand from his head. “Are you hurt?”
“Just a dent in my head,” Stitch complained. “Almost knocked me out. I’ve been sitting here trying to figure out if my brains are dribbling out or if it’s just blood.”
“What happened?” Abe asked as he handed Rose his handkerchief to use as a bandage.
“Someone must have been up top when I stepped out. He hit me hard with what felt like a railroad spike.”
“What happened to him?” Abe looked around. “He’s got some explaining to do.”
Stitch shrugged. “Sorry. I don’t think he’ll be talking. I reacted without much thought. I grabbed his shirt and tossed him off before I took the time to question why. He’s a few miles back, probably still rolling.”
Abe moved away from the door. “Stitch, we’d better get you inside.”
As the big man moved into the car, Rose whispered to Abe, “That still doesn’t explain where Killian and Duncan are.”
“Wherever they are, my guess is they’re in trouble. We’ve got to be
very careful from here on out.”
Rose pulled her gun and tried to fight down panic. “How long until we stop?”
“Another half hour or so.” Abe leaned close. “They couldn’t have just vanished. My guess is they are somewhere still on the train.”
Before she could think of an answer a man stepped from the other passenger car and joined them on the rattling platforms. She knew who he was even before she saw his face. “August Myers,” she whispered.
The man straightened as if in uniform. “At your service, Miss McMurray. You seem to have lost something. Perhaps I can help you find it . . . or should I say ‘them.’”
“What have you done with the ranger?”
“Oh dear.” Myers smiled as if still in casual conversation. “Don’t forget the judge. There was to be a third man missing but my man failed in his mission.” He shrugged as if it wasn’t important. “I assure you they are both in good hands. The ranger may have a headache, but Killian was smart enough to cooperate when he felt a gun pushed into his back. The ranger must have a death wish because, even hurt, he took on two of my men and almost won before they finally beat him down.”
“Where are they?” She pointed her gun at his middle. This time, she swore she’d shoot to kill if she had to.
“Do put that away, woman. I know you have no intention of shooting me, for you see, I’m here to help. I think I can ensure the safe return of both men, who so bravely protected you, if you’ll only allow me to take my wife with me. We’ll let you all go on along your way and we’ll continue on to Galveston after the next stop. You’ll all be home safe for I understand the Anderson Glen Station is near your family ranch, and my wife and I will be on our way to a new life.”
“You’re mad,” Rose said simply. “Victoria wouldn’t go with you and she’s not your wife.”
“If she doesn’t, she’ll be a widow before this train stops. The judge will be killed and tossed off. Within hours the wild animals will eat enough of his flesh so that no one will recognize him.”
