by Tabor Evans
Longarm didn't know if Miss Martha Noble had overheard this confession, but he suspected that she had and was probably starting to realize that she'd made a fool of herself defending such a cold-blooded killer.
A few minutes later, the conductor and the banker returned. The banker looked angry and the conductor began to pitch wood into the small stove at the rear of the car.
"I'd never hire him," the banker said loudly. "A man like that wouldn't last a day at our Bank of Wyoming but he'll last forever on this railroad. I tell you, the Union Pacific will hire anyone!"
Longarm smiled to himself. The banker was putting on a show of authority for the other passengers and was making sure that everyone knew about his bank. Loud, boastful people were imitating to Longarm, who preferred to go about his work with a quiet efficiency. He never bragged or told stories of the men he tracked down and brought to justice.
Longarm and other passengers seemed to hold their breath as the train inched its way up the summit. Time lost all meaning. It was as if they were traveling in a tunnel of ice. There was nothing to see outside and the storm kept screeching like a tormented witch. But finally, the train seemed to level out and pause, then slightly pick up speed.
"We've done it," Longarm declared loudly. "We've crested the summit!"
"Are you sure?" Miss Noble asked.
"He's right," the banker said, beaming. "I've been over this stretch a hundred times. There is no question about it. We've crested and are now on the downhill run."
"But isn't that just as dangerous?" another passenger asked. "I mean, what if we were to lose our brakes?"
"There is no chance of that," an older man wearing bib overalls and work boots declared. "I worked on a railroad for twenty years back in Ohio. Our brakes aren't going to fail."
Everyone except Eli Wheat seemed much relieved. Studying his wedge-shaped face with his hooked nose and deep-set eyes, Longarm said, "Looks like we're going to make Cheyenne after all. Another two hours at the most."
Eli turned and stared right through him. "Don't bet your life on it, Deputy."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
Eli smiled. "It means that a lot can happen in two hours and this blizzard is getting worse, not better."
Longarm stared at the whipping snow curtain. He could hear the intensity of the storm grow and he knew that Eli was right. The ride down from this high summit was risky even under the best of circumstances, and these were the worst of circumstances.
Miss Noble turned around and favored Longarm with what he judged to be an embarrassed smile. "I... I couldn't help but overhear your conversation about those two people that your prisoner attacked in Denver."
"Then you know that he killed the woman."
"Yes," she said in a sad voice. "I heard that. And I guess that I do owe you an apology."
"Apology accepted," Longarm said. "And I probably shouldn't have grabbed Eli by the throat and tried to throttle him into silence."
"Damn right you shouldn't have!" Eli spat out.
"Shut up," Longarm ordered.
Martha Noble sighed. "I will be oh so glad when we reach Cheyenne."
"I suppose that you have family waiting for you there?"
"No. I'm not married. I was once but, well... it didn't work out."
"i'm sorry."
"I'm not. My husband was not a nice man. He wasn't a murderer or anything, but he had no character."
Longarm nodded as if to say he understood.
"Marshal, will you be staying long in Cheyenne?"
"Only as long as necessary. I'll put Eli up in the sheriff's jail, wait for the first train south, then we'll be on our way to Denver."
"I see," Miss Noble said. "And if-"
Martha Noble never finished her sentence for, in the next moment, their coach lurched violently to the side and lifted. Martha screamed and Longarm grabbed the arm of his seat as the entire train tilted.
Eli raised his handcuffs and tried to claw out Longarm's eyes. But the coach tottered and before Eli could reach Longarm, it began a sickening roll.
The sound of Miss Noble screaming in Longarm's ace did not drown out an explosion somewhere up ahead. Was it perhaps an avalanche?
Longarm reached to grab Miss Noble as she left her feet, but then he was flying too as the coach began to tumble down the mountainside. He lost consciousness as the sound of tearing metal and splintering wood filled his ears like a roar of a killer Kansas tornado.
CHAPTER 2
Longarm awoke slowly to the moan of the icy mountain wind and the anguished cries and pleas for help of the surviving passengers. He was aware of movement within the overturned coach, and when he tried to raise himself to his hands and knees, a shooting pain radiated across the back of his head.
He gritted his teeth, fighting to remain conscious. Light was almost nonexistent inside the coach, and Longarm could not distinguish anything. Close beside him a woman groaned and then cried softly. Longarm reached out to comfort her.
"Ma'am," he whispered, suddenly aware of the intense cold and blowing snow. "Ma'am, it's going to be all right. There will be help on the way."
"Why is it so dark?"
Longarm recognized Miss Noble's voice. "Maybe we're covered by snow. Maybe it's just the blizzard blocking out the sun. I can't say for sure until I get out and look around."
"Where is your prisoner?"
"I don't know, Miss Noble. But I'll find out soon enough."
With his right hand, Longarm reached up and felt a deep laceration in his scalp. No wonder he felt drugged and could hardly think straight. Longarm reached into his pocket and dug for a match. He used his thumbnail to scratch the match into life, and when he raised it up to survey the carnage and destruction, Longarm was appalled to see so many dead and injured.
There was blood everywhere, and most of the windows of the overturned coach were shattered, allowing the blizzard its deadly entry. Already, some of the bodies were covered with a white shroud of snow. The coach was lying on its side, but badly canted downward. Longarm was sure that their coach would have rolled even farther had it not been caught by an obstruction poking out of the steep mountainside. A sudden gust of wind extinguished Longarm's match and plunged the scene back into darkness.
Longarm lit another match, shielding its flickering light from the hard, blowing wind. He took a longer second look, specifically searching for his prisoner. Eli Wheat was gone. Longarm was sure of it. He was also sure that the approach of night would soon drive the freezing temperatures to a killing low and that, if he did not take measures to save not only himself but the other passengers, they'd all be frozen solid before morning.
"Deputy Long, we've got to help these people!"
Longarm turned and held the dying match up toward Miss Noble. She had been cut up a little by flying glass and appeared badly shaken.
Longarm's match burned out, and he squeezed the woman's arm in a feeble attempt to reassure her that all would be fine. "Miss Noble, it's a wonder that our stove didn't ignite and turn this coach into a funeral pyre. The stove must have been thrown outside and then extinguished."
"I don't know. But it's freezing in here."
"I need some light," Longarm told her. "We have to find a lantern or we'll never be able to help the injured."
"I think a lot of them are dead!" the young woman exclaimed, her voice near the breaking point.
"But we can't worry about that. We have to do what we can for those that can still be saved. Can you move around, Miss Noble? Are your legs..."
"They're fine."
Longarm heard her take a deep, steadying breath. He was encouraged when she said, "What can I do to help?"
"Let's get outside and see what happened to the rest of the train. Perhaps there are other coaches that fared better and that will offer shelter."
"It's a miracle that any of us are alive."
"We need a doctor," Longarm said.
"That would be a second miracle."
Ta
king the woman's hand and forcing himself to ignore the pleading of injured and confused passengers, Longarm struggled out through a window. The blizzard attacked him with demented vengence. The snow sheeted in horizontally, and visibility was less than ten feet.
"I can't see anything!" Miss Noble cried.
"Me neither," Longarm said, hanging onto the woman's hand. "But we must find out if anyone else survived. We must find help!"
Lowering their heads, Longarm and the woman struggled forward along the overturned train. They passed another coach which had broken apart and was ominously silent. Then a third coach loomed up and Longarm saw what he believed to be a glow of light from its interior. This coach had come to rest in an almost upright position.
"Stay with me!" he hollered into the storm as he fought his way to the rear door of the coach. Doubling up his fists, he pounded on the door over and over until it opened a crack.
"Let us in!" he bellowed.
The door crashed open. Strong hands grabbed Longarm and Miss Noble and hauled them inside. A moment later, the door was jammed shut and Longarm had to wipe ice from his eyelashes in order to see. The survivors of this coach had righted their stove, but not before it had consumed an entire row of seats. Now, they were feeding the life-giving fire scraps from other chairs and trying to close the broken windows with seat cushions and blankets.
Longarm had the impression of being in a cluttered cave. He guessed there were two dozen passengers. Some were in bad shape, but most eyed him with astonishment.
"Who are you?" a man finally asked, breaking the silence.
"I'm Deputy U.S. Marshal Custis Long. Is anyone here in charge?"
No one stepped forward, but one man did say, "We lost about eight and two among us have internal injuries. We could sure use a doctor."
"I know that. Has anyone gone in search of other survivors? This might be the only real shelter."
"I went up toward the front of the train, but all the coaches were destroyed," a big man in a heavy sheepskin lined coat answered. "And the locomotive wasn't anywhere around. It must have rolled all the way down the mountain."
"Miss Noble and I crawled out of a coach two cars back," Longarm said. "The next one back is demolished. I doubt that anyone survived. Our coach has at least twenty people trapped inside. I need able-bodied volunteers to bring them here."
"Why, here!" a man bellowed in anger. "This is our coach. Why don't they-"
"We need to stay bunched and close together, that's why!" Longarm said angrily. "This coach is still in one piece and you've got a fire. If we can pack a hundred people in here, they'll all likely survive this storm."
"But..."
"What is wrong with you?" Miss Noble cried, stepping in front of Longarm and confronting the man. "There are other people back there dying! Have you no charity in your heart?"
The man tried to match her eyes, but then broke away and turned to the fire.
"Like I said," Longarm repeated, "I need volunteers. If we don't get all the injured into this coach, they'll die of exposure."
"I'm coming," the man who had protested said, whirling around and starting for the door.
"Zeke," a woman said to him, "you take my coat while you're out in that storm. And don't you fall off this mountain."
"I won't, Liz. I swear I won't," Zeke promised as he took his wife's coat.
"I want to come too," Martha Noble said. "I met some wonderful people in that coach. I'm not about to stay here while their lives are in danger."
"All right," Longarm said, proud of the young woman.
Other passengers, perhaps shamed by Martha's courage, were soon following Longarm back out into the storm. The wind was blowing so hard that it knocked them down when they passed the open areas between the overturned cars and were exposed to its full, unopposed force. Three of the rescuers were not strong enough to stand up to the fierce gusts and had to crawl back to safety, but the others, with Longarm in front, struggled on until they arrived at the coach.
"It'll be dark soon!" he yelled, knowing that his words could not be heard by most of the rescuers. "We have to get the survivors to shelter now!"
Longarm had to fight through a blanket of snow in order to crawl back inside. Once inside, he tried to get a match, but his unprotected hands were numb and useless. With no alternative, Longarm began to grope around in the coach for anyone who moved. One delirious passenger screamed and clawed at Longarm's face, but he easily subdued the frightened woman.
"Calm down, ma'am. It's all right!" he yelled. "We're getting you out of here!"
She gradually came to understand. Moments later, the woman was eased out into the storm and Longarm was moving on to another victim. And so it went until time lost all meaning. Longarm did not know how many people he roused and helped guide out of the coach, but it had to be several dozen.
The dead bodies he found were so stiff Longarm reckoned that they were already beginning to freeze solid. He had to work in darkness, so there was no way of recognizing faces. All that Longarm knew for sure was that, every time he guided a survivor back to Martha Noble or one of the others, he was definitely saving a life.
Exhausted, frozen, and working in total darkness, Longarm stayed until he was absolutely certain that there were no other survivors. The last few people that he helped to remove were undoubtedly in critical shape and barely able to respond to his urgings. Not once did Longarm touch a person or a body that wore handcuffs and manacles. Eli Wheat was gone. Longarm couldn't explain how or where the killer could have gone to, but there was little doubt that the man had somehow escaped.
"What about the other coaches?" Martha asked after they had finally returned to warmth and shelter two coaches forward.
"I don't know," Longarm said, listening to the shrieking wind. "You heard what the man said."
Martha pressed close. "Do you think he could have been mistaken?"
Longarm's head was throbbing and he was so cold and drained that he had begun to shiver despite the fact that the interior of the coach was packed with humanity and the temperature was slightly above freezing.
"Your coat is too light," Martha said. "You must use mine."
"I couldn't fit into it even if I wanted to, which I don't," Longarm said, teeth chattering like dice in a cup.
Martha touched Longarm's face; then her hand dropped to unbutton his light coat. She pushed him down and unbuttoned her own coat, then pulled it close around them. Longarm felt the instant warmth of her body. He wrapped his arms around her and held the woman tight.
"You were magnificent today," Martha breathed into his ear. "If you hadn't demanded that the able-bodied in this coach join us, we couldn't possibly have saved so many lives."
"You were pretty great yourself," he replied. "I owe you an apology for the mean-spirited things I was thinking about you before."
"Because of that prisoner?"
"Yes. Eli Wheat really is a vicious murderer."
"I know that now. I guess I even knew it then. I should never have interfered. I don't even know what possessed me to-"
"Dear repentant woman," Longarm said interrupting, "has anyone ever said that you talk a lot?"
"It's been mentioned," Martha said with a smile. "I get that from my father. He was an attorney, and I plan to also practice law when we reach Cheyenne. It's a new challenge for me, but I know the law far better than most men who hang out their shingle."
"I've never seen a woman lawyer before, but I'm sure that you'll do fine," Longarm said. "There's probably plenty of women that would rather deal with another woman."
"There's even more men that would rather deal with a woman," she told him.
Longarm was sure that was true. Martha Noble was very attractive, and he'd rather deal with her anytime than another man.
"Custis? That is your name, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"Well, Custis, I still say that you were acting beyond your authority when you almost throttled that prisoner."
"I wish now that I had. But if I manage to recapture Eli Wheat, you can defend him in court if you choose."
When the woman offered no comment, Longarm chuckled. "So, I'm holding a pretty attorney in a very compromising position. Martha, are you going to sue me for damages if I try to steal a kiss?"
"You can kiss me all you want," she whispered. "I've never been kissed by a hero before. So kiss me."
Longarm did kiss Miss Noble. He kissed her until his teeth no longer chattered and his passion momentarily swept away the nightmare of the train wreck. And then, he kissed her a little more.
"I wish we were somewhere else," he confessed, squeezing her. "Somewhere nice and warm in Cheyenne."
"What do you think happened?"
"You mean to the train, or to my prisoner?"
"Both."
Longarm closed his eyes. "I thought, just for an instant before we went over the mountainside, that I heard an explosion."
"You mean like dynamite?"
"Exactly. It could have been an avalanche or a boulder that broke loose up above and came crashing down to derail the entire train, but I doubt it. We won't know for sure until help arrives and this blizzard passes."
"Do you believe that it might have had something to do with your prisoner?"
"Maybe."
"But wouldn't the risk of killing him have been too great?"
"Eli had everything to gain and nothing to lose," Longarm said. "If you'll remember, I told you that he belonged to a gang of cutthroats that robbed stagecoaches and trains. They've derailed the Union Pacific before with dynamite. Sometimes pitching it under the moving train, sometimes just blowing up track in front of the locomotive."
Martha Noble choked with rage. "So, in order to give one ruthless and convicted murderer a slim chance to escape, this gang was willing to sacrifice dozens of innocent passengers and train employees."
"That's the size of it. If it was the same gang that Eli belonged to, they will have broken into the mail car and dynamited the safe in order to steal whatever cash and valuables it might have contained."
