by Linda Ellen
She also saw something else…a wounded aura, and Pauline astutely wondered what the woman had suffered earlier that morning at the hands of the cruel outlaws. Pauline tried to send her a soothing smile and mouthed the words, are you all right? She saw the other teacher press her lips together and give a brave nod before responding to one of the smaller girls tugging on her sleeve.
Since Peter had left to deliver the message, the men had ordered the women to sit amongst the children on the floor and keep their mouths shut, and hadn’t spoken to them since. The clock on the wall confirmed that half an hour had passed. To Pauline, it seemed like half a day.
Suddenly, the leader jumped up from where he had been lounging against the corner of Martha’s desk and let go a string of expletives that made Pauline wish she could cover each child’s ears, as well as her own. “What’s takin’ so long?” he ground out as he stomped over to one of the windows, craning his head right and then left as he searched outside for any movement nearby. “The street’s deserted, not a soul in sight. Means this is either a dead, one-horse-town, or something’s up.”
Pauline figured the bevy of lawmen had wasted no time in evacuating the area so that no one would be hurt. She wondered what Tobias was doing. Instinctively, she knew he had reacted wildly when he first heard the news that she had been taken captive, and she was glad that he hadn’t come charging in like Samson against the Philistines. But now…all she could do was speculate over what the marshals had planned. She knew they wouldn’t do anything reckless, but she couldn’t for the life of her see how they were going to get out of this predicament. Shutting her eyes, she said a quick prayer that no child—or adult—would get hurt when Sheriff Dave and the others made their move.
“Prayin’, are ya?” the man who had first grabbed her sneered. Pauline opened her eyes and stared at him as he leaned against the window frame, allowing her disdain to be plainly evident. “That’s right,” he continued. “You just go on and pray for your deputy husband. He’s gonna need it.”
“Shut up, Wheeler,” the head man groused as he stalked back to the desk. “You and Grove just keep your eyes peeled.”
“I’m startin’ to think this wasn’t such a good idea…” the one Pauline now could identify as Grove began, but he immediately clamped his mouth shut as the boss whirled his way.
“That’s why you ain’t gettin’ paid to think!” he barked.
The fourth man, who had previously ensconced himself in the vacant classroom, came to the connecting door, probably disturbed by the sound of their raised voices.
“Everything all right, Plumb?” he asked, giving the ladies the name of the man who considered himself in charge. So…he’s Plumb Hobbs, then. That means he’s Washington Hobbs’ brother! Oh my heavens, that adds another dimension to their determination.
Plumb turned his way and snapped, “Get back in there, Mott! Nobody’s gonna let their guard down and let those lousy, stinkin’, tin stars out there get the drop on us! Not as long as I’m in charge!”
Without a word, the man disappeared back into the dark classroom, the door closing behind his retreat.
Wheeler flashed his cohort a smirk and muttered, “Yeah, like at that warehouse?”
Plumb turned toward him slowly, giving the other man a look that would wither a lesser—or less foolishly brazen—man.
“I ain’t the one who got caught in that warehouse,” he reminded Wheeler, his voice low and obviously controlled. “And I ain’t the one who jumped bail and got hisself wanted for that—and for, of all things, robbin’ from a reverend when he’s inside a blasted church preachin’ to his flock! What kind ‘a stupid are you and Wash, anyway? You got just about the whole town ‘a Platte City screamin’ for your hide with that stunt. If that idiot in the jail wasn’t my brother, I’d let him take what he’s got comin’. I told all of you to lay low for a couple of months!”
All of a sudden, Tad, who had been quietly sitting next to Pauline, his intelligent gaze broodingly watching the outlaws’ every move, shot up off the floor and yelled at the leader, “My brother’ll get you good! None ‘a you stand a chance! He’s the fastest and bravest there is!”
Alarmed, but somehow not completely surprised, Pauline reached up and grasped his sleeve, pulling him back down. “Hush Tad!” she whispered.
“Your brother, ‘eh?” the one named Wheeler sneered. “Which one is he? The sheriff?”
Undaunted, Tad’s chest puffed out with fierce sibling pride and he sneered right back, “No, he’s Tobias Keller. Our grandpa is Marshal Hampton Gibson. They call him the Wyatt Earp of Champaign, and Toby is his best deputy, and he’s gonna get you. You just wait!”
“Tad, shush now!” Pauline ordered as gently as she could. “Don’t rile them more than they already are,” she added under her breath just as Wheeler came charging over as if to snatch Tad up by his collar.
Pauline reacted by throwing one arm around Tad’s chest, the other hand trying to protect his head, and hauling him against her, pleading, “Please don’t hurt him! He’s just a child!”
Plumb stepped closer, the two men looming above the prone women and children as they glared down at them.
“So…you’re Keller’s wife…and this here is Keller’s little brother, huh?” Plumb sadistically crooned. Giving Wheeler a slap on the arm, he let out an evil chuckle, devoid of anything remotely human. “I think we can use this situation, ‘eh Wheel?”
“I’ll use it,” Wheeler mumbled as he stared, flinty-eyed, at Pauline and Tad. Finally, a bit of the anger began to fade from his harsh brow and he muttered, “Ahh,” and flung an arm of dismissal at them and made his way back to his station at the window.
Tad wiggled enough to put an inch between them once the immediate danger passed, but she could tell he wasn’t about to back down. “Tad, honey,” she whispered. “Don’t antagonize those men, they’re crazy. We don’t know what they’ll do—”
“I don’t care,” he cut her off and craned his head to face her pleading stare. Wisely grave, he added, “They got no right doin’ what their doin’. Mama would call ‘em no good river trash. They ain’t good enough to shine Toby’s boots!”
“Ssshh,” Pauline warned, truly afraid that the boy’s goading would anger the men so badly they would do him harm.
“You two shut up over there!” Wheeler bellowed.
To Pauline’s astonishment, Tad just laughed. “You’re yellow. Clear down to your boots. Nothin’ but yellow!”
“Tad!” Pauline cried, followed by similar exclamations from the other two women.
Wheeler was already charging their way, reaching them before she could react. He snatched Tad up by his arm and shook him hard. Unflinching and seemingly fearless, Tad just laughed again!
Pauline wanted to scream in frustration. Won’t the boy listen?? Bravado only went so far before it became overtly foolish.
“I ain’t ever been yellow in my life, boy!” Wheeler roared right in Tad’s face. “And you mark my words, before this is through, you’ll see that brother of yours face down in the dust—and it’ll be my bullet that gets him!”
To Tad’s credit and Pauline’s immense relief, the boy didn’t say anything else, just stared unblinking up into Wheeler’s callous eyes. Eventually, Wheeler shoved the boy down to the floor and stomped back to the window, muttering under his breath.
Pauline tried one more time. “Tad, please,” she begged, whispering, but he turned his head and once again locked his gaze with hers, his rock-solid, unwavering faith glimmering therein. “Don’t you worry none, Pauline,” he whispered back. “Toby won’t let none of us get hurt—especially you. You’ll see.”
She opened her mouth to try and say something else, but shut it again and sent him a brief smile and nod. This boy hadn’t actually spent much time with his older legend of a brother, so most likely his opinion was based largely upon family stories like those Pauline had heard at the dinner table the other night. Even so, this youngster had developed an unshaking
loyalty to his sibling. Looking into his eyes, she could see it, like a living, breathing entity.
On the other hand, Pauline had seen her husband’s prowess and bravery first hand, on more than one occasion. She’d also seen how he had never simply jumped into a situation, but first considered all sides before forming a plan. She’d seen with her own eyes that when in the clinches of a crisis, he had nerves of steel.
Maybe she should start believing that steadfastly in this man who was her husband.
Smiling at Tad with a little more assurance, she reached out and gently drew her young brother-in-law against her side yet again to await the coming storm.
“All right, is everybody clear on the plan?” Sheriff Dave asked those assembled in his office. Since it was his town, the constable had insisted on him taking the lead.
Constable Filkins and his men, as well as Dave’s, mumbled in the affirmative and then headed down the street toward the school like avenging angels. Toby’s heart was in his throat and inside he was praying fervently that no one would get hurt…especially Pauline.
Over the years he had faced outlaws many times—with and without his larger-than-life grandfather by his side—but never before had he felt so ill-prepared. What if something went wrong with their foolproof plan? Desperate men like those in the schoolhouse were invariably unpredictable, and according to the boy, Peter, one of the men seemed to have a grudge against him—and by association—Pauline. If him being a lawman resulted in his wife getting injured…he would more than likely lay down his badge and never pick it up again.
When the group got within sight of the building, Dave gave a nod to Toby and Keith and the two split off from the others. Toby had come up with the idea—since having attended the school growing up, he knew a few things about the building that the sheriff wasn’t privy to—and then he had insisted he be the one to pull it off. The sheriff had agreed, but stipulated that he take another deputy along for insurance. Hence Keith.
Sprinting between two buildings and into a stand of trees a ways from sight of the schoolhouse, they circled around behind the school building and crept up to the windowless back.
Crouching down, both men checked their guns. Toby took six bullets out of his gun belt and dropped them into his shirt pocket—a trick his grandfather had taught him, as it allowed for quicker reloading. He hoped, however, that he wouldn’t need even one shot.
His stomach churned, his pulse hammered, and his entire body tingled with adrenaline as he stared up at the back of the school and wished more than anything that he could see through the walls. Is Pauline all right? Tad? The others?
Saying another quick prayer for their plan to go like clockwork, he urged silently, Hang on, sweetheart. I’m coming. Don’t do anything to get yourself hurt…
“The others should be about in position,” Keith mumbled.
Against his better judgment, Dave had sent the boy, Peter, back to tell the outlaws that the deputies would be coming soon. However, the real reason was to tell Martha, the head teacher, to get the children to hunker down flat under the desks once the commotion began. It was up to Toby and Keith how long that particular commotion would last.
Knowing the outlaws would have locked and barricaded the back doors, they now crawled under the steps of the door leading out back to the outhouses from Miss Annabel’s classroom. Toby carefully released the access panel to the twenty-four-inch crawlspace and slipped into cool, musty darkness; Keith right on his heels.
Ultra-conscious of the outlaws in the rooms above the floorboards directly overhead, they could hear the lone man in Miss Annabel’s room pacing along the side windows. Ignoring spider webs, but keeping an eye out for anything that might slither, they quietly scurried like hermit crabs all the way to the front.
Reaching the trapdoor in the floor of the cloakroom, they waited in darkness.
Blessedly, only a few moments later…
“You in the schoolhouse!” Sheriff Dave’s voice rang out loud and clear. “Come on out! Hands high! You can’t get away; we’ve got you surrounded. Come out now and this little incident won’t be added to the list of charges against you. You’ve got one minute to decide.”
Glancing at his sandy-haired, green-eyed partner—of whom he could just barely make out the outline of his face in the loamy gloom—Toby whispered, “Ready?”
Keith gave him a quick nod. Although he couldn’t see them, he somehow knew those green eyes were bright with the excitement of the coming battle.
Toby swallowed and released his breath slowly through his nostrils, steeling his nerves the way his grandfather had taught him. Breathe in deep, let it out slow, concentrate, plan your moves. Don’t let yourself get rattled. Always remember, the other guy is scared too. You just make sure you don’t show it if you are. Use his fear against him.
The seconds ticked by, and then a voice from inside the building bellowed, “I guess you stupid tin stars don’t care about these women and kids! We got Deputy Keller’s wife in here, remember,” before the sound of breaking glass and a gunshot followed.
“This is it!” Toby grunted as their fellow officers opened fire. Toby knew they were aiming high, purposefully not letting their shots penetrate low on the walls, for fear of hitting the innocents inside.
The outlaws fired back, but the deputies had stationed themselves under good cover and were in minimal danger.
“Let’s go!”
Toby and the others were counting on the deafening sounds of the gunshots to mask what he had planned. Carefully pushing open the trapdoor, he and Keith scrambled over to the door of Miss Annabel’s room. Toby tried the knob, only to discover it was locked. No surprise there. Glancing at his partner, he stretched up above the frame and felt around for the extra key. Finding it, he fit it into the lock and pushed the door open—slowly. The outlaw had his back to them, intent on his task; that of firing round after round out the window while he hid behind a partially opened shutter. Thus, Toby was able to sneak up behind him. The man, never the wiser, was whacked over the head with the butt end of Toby’s gun. He crumpled to the floor.
“Tie him up,” he directed Keith.
His fellow deputy grinned mischievously. With a quick, cowboy nod, he snatched a cord from his pocket and—lightning fast—hogtied the outlaw like a trussed-up steer. If the situation hadn’t been so dire, Toby would have laughed at the younger man making use of talents he’d perfected during his previous stint as a rodeo contestant.
“Nice bulldoggin’,” Toby smirked, allowing himself a bit of levity. “Come on,” he motioned as they sprinted through the middle of the desks to the connecting doorway. The cacophonous din raging outside covered any noise they were making.
Squatting down, Toby cracked the door an inch to get a line on the positions of the other three outlaws. Before he could, however, a shot from outside came through one of the exterior windows and smashed one of the upper glass panes in the door he was holding. Toby flung himself back against the wall, meeting the startled expression of his partner.
“That was close,” Keith whispered, wide-eyed.
“Yeah, too close.”
The barrages continued unabated; their sharp reports thunderous. Despite his narrow-eyed focus on their plan of action, part of Toby’s mind marveled that so much lead was flying with minimal damage being done to the building—thus far. He could hear the men in the other room shouting expletives as they labored to defend their stronghold. One of them even barked with laughter and growled that the lawmen out there couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn.
Once again, Toby opened the door a bit and searched the room, relieved to catch a glimpse of Pauline and the others cowered down flat under the desks, which they had corralled together into a kind of makeshift fort.
He searched out his partner’s wide, green eyes again, whispering, “One…two…three,” before flinging the door wide. Leaping up, the two deputies charged out, demanding, “Hold it right there! Drop your weapons and put up your hands! NOW
!”
The three men immediately stopped firing and with muttered oaths, reluctantly dropped their rifles and began to slowly turn around, their hands raised.
Toby yelled loud enough for Dave to hear, “We got ‘em, Sheriff!”
Outside they heard Sheriff Dave order a cease fire.
“Get their guns,” Toby ordered and Keith did as he bid, working fast to secure the room.
Everything had happened so fast.
First, the sheriff’s order to the outlaws to give up, then the criminals’ retaliation, followed by Pauline and the other two ladies quickly corralling their charges underneath the desks and turning several over on their sides to stop any stray bullets.
The women and children had remained huddled, mercifully protected from harm, with their hands over their ears to stem the worst of the blasts. Pauline had been prepared for the siege to go on indefinitely, so it was a very pleasing surprise when a familiar voice yelled for their captors to drop their weapons.
She had raised her head enough to see Tobias standing just inside the connecting door with his feet firmly planted. Another deputy was at his side and both had their revolvers pointed squarely at the three outlaws.
Despite being terrified and her nerves jarred to the point of trembling, Pauline nevertheless found herself extremely proud of her handsome husband and the formidable picture he made as he confronted the offenders. She could see no trace of fear in those blue eyes. At that moment, instead of resembling the sky, they appeared ice blue, like a mountain lake in winter. Indeed, he was one hundred percent an efficient and fearless deputy.