by Jo Noelle
He looked down the street toward the station. Chet was standing there with his back toward the entrance, watching Bernard.
Within half an hour, the train whistle blew, and Bernard could see steam chugging above the rooftops of the Nugget and Hearth and Home before the train came into view. It slowed to a stop with the passenger cars at the platform as it had twice a day, every day. Today, however, deputies approached the express car, and the doors weren’t opened until after the exiting passengers cleared away. New passengers were moved into the station, and those doors were shut.
When the express doors were pushed back, men climbed aboard and carried out several metal boxes. Bernard saw Quint go into the car but didn’t see him come out. So, his brother had recruited local thugs. Then the door slid shut again, and Dutch marched the armed guards toward the bank.
Newly authorized deputies lined the street and stood at the top of several buildings, following the progress of the metal boxes toward the bank. It was possible that the money was truly in those boxes, but Bernard still thought it was meant to throw off would-be robbers. If the money stayed in Creede, how would the other mines make their payroll? No. The money would be going to Colorado Springs or Denver, then redistributed from there to the different parts of the state.
The memory of Clara’s lovely face interrupted his concentration. He had to trust the plans he’d made with Marshal KC and Marshal Wheeler a couple of days ago. Even now, they should be disguised and on the train.
Bernard could see Jess at the end of the street, watching him, paying no attention to the procession whatsoever. Even when Jess boarded the train, he stood over the coupling between the cars and watched. When Bernard moved the wagon, he would be hidden from view by the bank and other buildings on Main Street. Jess wouldn’t know that Bernard wasn’t doing exactly as he’d been told.
What would he do with the innocent people on the train, and what would he do with Clara once the robbery was complete? He doubted that he would harm Clara if Pa had truly demanded she be brought to him. That seemed the most likely.
When the train whistled again, he shook the reins and drove the wagon between the side of his law office and the bank, disappearing behind it. He hoped Jess didn’t have anyone watching to confirm the position of the wagon. The train whistle sounded again, this time signaling that it would leave the station. He knew that somewhere beneath the hay would be dynamite, enough to blow a hole in the side of the bank as they had done in other towns.
He stepped to the tailgate and carefully ran his arms through the hay, finding two sticks near the back. He placed them in a wooden box and moved it away from the buildings. Then he went back to the wagon and lit it on fire. If everything went as planned, KC would have arranged for someone to take care of the fire and the dynamite when the train was out of town.
Bernard walked through the alleyway in time to see the train pulling away. He waited until most of the train had passed the turn going out of town before he ran beside the moving train. He reached out and grabbed the pole, swinging onto the platform at the back of the caboose.
He climbed the ladder to the top of the livestock car and walked along the top. The train chugged slowly, making his steps uneven, and he swayed, trying to keep his balance. He jumped the gap between cars and landed on the next, dropping to his hands and knees to keep from falling off.
The steam engine gathered momentum as he carefully walked the length of each car. When he reached the express car, he climbed down and looked through the window in the back door.
He didn’t know by the backs of the heads who was in there, but he could count ten people. He straightened his jacket, opened the door slowly, and walked in. Those who turned to see him didn’t show any interest. He passed by Marshal Wheeler and KC, who stood to follow him to the front.
His family was sitting where they had last time, but this time Clara was with them. He wished he could have kept her from this, from seeing his vile past. Would she leave him? His chest felt like it had cracked open. If she left, he would let her, but today, he would do what he could to protect her and his town.
Chet was sitting beside Clara. Jess sat across the aisle. Rex and Arlo went through the front door and over the coal car. He guessed that their job was to take control of the engine.
Jess grinned. “Glad you’ve joined us, brother. As you can see, your wife has come along for the ride. It was a surprise but a welcome one. I wonder what she’ll think when she meets her new relations.”
Bernard promised in his heart that she never would. He would stop this. He looked past Jess to the tracks up ahead. They were passing the Wagon Wheel Guest Ranch, and he could see the turnoff to Topaz in the distance. If he didn’t stop the train before they went through The Narrows, the rest of his family would board it. He drew in a quick breath. He knew they didn’t leave witnesses.
An explosion rocked the train from behind Bernard. Jess looked surprised. Quint must have blown the safe open early. Bernard pulled his guns, and so did Jess and Chet. Clara sank to the floor.
Lightning flashed and thunder roared, vibrating Bernard’s bones. The train was stopped—instantly. It didn’t slow to a stop—it just stopped, and everyone on the train did too, except for him, Clara, and the woman gunslinger.
Several things happened at once. The whole train was blanketed in silence. He turned in a circle, looking out the window. Snow from on top of the cliffs shifted like a waterfall of icy boulders but was now suspended above the coal car. People in the act of scrambling to get to the floor were statues. Wheeler and KC had their guns out where they stood in the seats to each side of him. Bullets hung in the air.
The angel gunslinger yelled from behind him, “You’ve got one minute, y’all. Do what you can.” Her guns were in the air, smoke curling from the ends. She yelled to Clara. “You get those bullets. I’ll get these.” The angel moved down the aisle. “That one up there’s a scumbag for sure,” she said pointing toward Jess, “but I don’t do the judging of them. I just do my job,” she said as she flicked the bullets away from in front of the marshals.
Clara pulled the gun from Chet’s hand and shoved past him as she pushed the bullets down from in front of Jess’s gun.
Bernard charged up the aisle and shoved Jess out the front door and into the coal car. Then he went back for Chet. When he re-entered the passenger car, he saw that Clara had used her apron to tie Chet’s hands and was in the back pulling the guns from the marshals’ hands so there would be no more bullets flying when time started up again. The gunslinger pushed passengers to the floor in the car behind them.
The angel began counting down. “Twenty. Nineteen.” Her voice reverberated from all sides.
Chet’s foot was wedged between the chair supports, and Bernard tugged without moving him much. He wasn’t going to have time to both wrestle the huge man into the coal car and separate their passenger car from it.
“Chet didn’t shoot. There were no bullets from his gun,” Clara remarked, approaching him. “Why didn’t he shoot?”
“Eighteen. Seventeen.”
Bernard wondered at that. Chet had raised his gun but hadn’t used it. Did he disagree with shooting family or lawmen, or more generally, did he regret his involvement in the family business? That seemed like a slim chance, but the same decision Bernard had made long ago.
“Make your choice, Bernard.” The gunslinger continued to count, entering the front car. “Sixteen. Fifteen.”
Bernard pushed Chet to the floor, then stepped into the gap between the two cars. He reached for the coupling that held the coal car to the passenger car. The metal was as cold as were his hands. Ice and snow were packed inside the metal knuckles that interlocked in the mechanism.
“Fourteen. Thirteen.”
Bernard hammered on it with his pistol butt. Small chunks of ice flew.
“Twelve. Eleven.”
He beat against the pin that secured them together, then wiggled it back and forth, walking it out of the hole.
/> “Ten. Nine.”
He pulled on the lever to move the knuckle away from the ones on the other side. Usually, the cars were moved to complete the disconnection.
“Eight. Seven.”
If time weren’t stopped, the coal car would naturally outpace the passenger car because the engine would pull it. As is, the passenger car would follow and be buried under the avalanche when time started up again.
“Six. Five.”
He couldn’t find a way to keep the coupling open. He’d have to stay and hold the coupling. “Go to the next passenger car, Clara.”
“I’ll help you. I love you, Bernard. I belong beside you.”
“Go.” As much as he’d tried to break away from his family, in the end, they would have taken his life. They wouldn’t have hers. “I love you. Go, please.”
“Four. Three.”
Clara hadn’t moved.
Bernard turned to the angel. “Take her to the back.”
“Done.” The angel pointed, and Clara vanished, reappearing in the next car.
“Two. And now you,” the gunslinger said. “You’re a good man, Bernard. I can see it firmly in your heart—you would have given your life for them all. That’s an action of hope.” The angel pointed again, and Bernard found himself seated at the back of the first car.
“One.” The angel straddled the gap, and shoved at the coupling, and the cars separated. “Zero.”
The engine and coal car raced away from the passenger car as snow cascaded down the cliff covering them both. This time, the passenger car and the rest of the train stopped abruptly as it slammed into the wall of ice in front of it, knocking the front of the passenger car from the track but leaving it upright. Bernard could see parts of the engine and coal car buried under the snow where the cliff wall ended on the north side. They had been pushed down the hill with the avalanche. Deep sorrow and loss touched his heart. Although the men had died, trapped in consequences of their own evil choices, he wished it had ended differently for them.
A man in a black wool coat grew from a shadow as if walking out of the metal wall to where he stood beside the gunslinger. His eyes shone like gold on fire below the leather visor of his flat-topped conductor’s hat. He reached as if to pick up something, and a shovel appeared in his hand that he slung it over his shoulder.
“I guess the ones down there in the snow are yours,” the lady gunfighter told him. Then he began marching down the snowy hillside with black mist in the shape of wings steaming behind him.
Bernard wondered about the man—who was he?
“That’s Death. He’s got a little cleanup to do on their souls, which are fixin’ to get nice and hot. ’Cept for the engineer—it was just his time to go. He’s got a real nice place waitin’ for him in paradise and enough family to keep him busy catching up with for an eon, at least.”
Bernard turned as the back door opened, and Clara jumped into his arms. Not a word was said, but her lips found his, and he felt immense gratitude at still having his life to live and this woman to have and to hold.
“I love you, Clara.”
She turned her face toward his neck, and he could feel her shoulders shake. Now and again, he heard a muffled cry. He didn’t know if they were tears of joy or sorrow. He felt a little of both as well.
Chapter 14
Clara
Clara pulled the quilt over herself as she snuggled next to Bernard. She never wanted to leave his side again. Of course, that meant she had to tell the rest of her story and hope he could understand. He hadn’t asked her what she was doing on the train or why she’d left the house. She was glad to have the time to consider how to start. The note she’d left had slipped between the bed and the wall. He hadn’t even seen it—a blessing that.
His arm was beneath her neck, and her head lay on his shoulder, her hand on his chest. His steady breaths and strong heartbeat settled her, calmed her, and gave her courage. She looked up into his eyes, and he kissed her forehead. Then she rested her head back on his chest.
Would he turn away from her now? “There’s something more I want you to know about me. If it makes a difference to you, I’ll understand.” A dull ache spread through her.
“Never.”
“I was very young when I married the first time, and we had a baby right off. Nettie Sue was beautiful and the most precious gift I could imagine.” Clara felt Bernard’s head lift from the pillow. She knew he must be looking at her, but she continued her story without meeting his gaze. “At birth, she had enough brown hair that I could curl it around my finger on the top of her head.” She had to hold her breath for a moment. Her heart ached for her lost little one. “She had red lips and sandy eyes and the cutest dimpled knuckles.
“A few weeks after her first birthday, Nettie cried all one night, jerking her legs up violently toward her tummy. The next day, my husband fetched the doctor. It was cholera. He quarantined the house, and my baby died in my arms a few hours later.”
One of Bernard’s hands cupped Clara’s cheek. “I’m so sorry.”
She couldn’t stop now. There was still much to tell. Clara’s voice was rough as she continued. “Within months, I was pregnant again. I was overjoyed, and my husband said he was happy. That baby died just before we expected his birth. Our third baby died long before she was ready. I was only halfway along.” The raw memories swam through Clara’s heart. It was such a tiny little thing, but she marveled at the little fingers and toes, the closed eyes, and the shadow of dark hair on her.
Clara keenly remembered the dark scar of earth behind their small house. The two small graves beside it were buried under a dusting of snow. Wooden crosses marked their heads. She couldn’t leave her bed and only watched as the tiny baby wrapped in a towel was laid to rest and covered with earth. Through the window, melting flakes running down the glass, she could hear the scraping of the shovel lifting dirt. When it was done, the little brown pillow of earth was being hidden in snow as well. She shuddered, wishing she could erase the pain. Though it had lessened with time, she knew it would never go away.
Bernard sat up in the bed. “Come here,” he said, helping her sit, too. He pulled her legs across his lap and cradled her to him, and she felt his lips press to her temple. She cried silently for a few minutes in his arms. He lifted the sheet to blot her eyes.
“My husband left. The shovel was still beside the new grave, and he got on a horse and rode away from me. Then the notice came that he was divorcing me because I was unfit. I was to leave his property within three days.”
Bernard tightened his hold on her. “I thought the man was a fool before, and now I’m convinced. I’m sorry you had to bear that alone.”
The next part would be the hardest. “I figured out today . . .” Fear still gripped her. She reminded herself that Bernard was nothing like her first husband. And she knew Bernard had seen sorrow and had overcome it. “I mean, I was getting on the train . . .” Her lips sealed. She couldn’t bring herself to say that she was going to leave him, but there was more. Would he listen to the end before judging her? She had to try. “I think I’m pregnant, Bernard.” Her heart rattled around in her chest in elation and despair.
He shifted her in his arms and pressed a kiss to her mouth. It was full of passion yet tender. She could easily stop the story there, but she didn’t want secrets between them.
“I thought you were just sick. I never considered . . . Clara. I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” He kissed her again.
Clara pulled out of his arms and sat up on the mattress. She dragged in a shuddering breath and continued. “I left the house with one change of clothes and the money I’ve put aside. I was going to leave, so I wouldn’t disappoint you and make you bury your child in a few weeks or months as well.”
It looked to her like he was going to deny it, or maybe that’s what she wanted to believe, but she had to finish.
“I went to the station and planned to buy a ticket, get on a train for Denver, and never look back until I r
ealized that I needed to have more faith in you, in us. I needed to let God give me the life He had planned for me, and if that meant taking the bad with the good, I would accept it. I was going to leave the station when my brother walked in and pulled me to the front of the passenger car with him.”
“You were afraid enough to leave. I want to be the man you can count on.” Bernard spread his arms, inviting her back into them. Clara leaned over, and he tightened them around her. She sobbed against his chest, and he murmured in her ear. “We’ll get through this together.”
The tenderness in his face and voice surprised her. Clara’s heart leaped with hope. Those sweet words were filled with the spirit of promise. They would stay together, no matter what came. She dearly wanted that to be true. Stay or go, she knew she would always love him. But she wanted to stay. She looked up into his face. “You had no idea the trouble you’d taken on by being in the courtroom that day. It means you’ll have no children.”
Bernard scrubbed his hand over his face, and Clara wondered if that was a sign of his regret.
“When I married you, I didn’t have a single thought of children. For all of my adult life, I’ve dreaded that I would bring children into my family’s violent world. If God gives us children, I’ll be happy, and if He doesn’t, I’ll be happy. You make me happy.”
It sounded to Clara like he was committed to the kind of marriage that lasts decades—the kind of marriage where they would laugh and cry, always together.
“Are you really tired, Clara?” he whispered into her ear.
Delicious chills skittered down her neck. “No. Not at all.” Clara slipped back into bed, leaving just enough room for Bernard. He pulled her to him.
