by Natalie Dean
“I know.” Jack moved to the lead wagon, the Brackett wagon of all things, and gave Blaine Brackett a nod. “We’re ready.”
Blaine responded with a nod of his own, and slapped the reins over the horse’s backs, as Benjamin and Jack took their spots at the lead.
“You know it was the Faceless Gang, right?” Benjamin asked from the corner of his mouth once sufficient distance was put between them and the Brackett wagon. There was no need for more hysteria.
“I saw the bandanas and pillow cases with the eye holes poked through.”
Benjamin worked his mouth. Jack was a dangerous man on a good day, and that particular day wasn’t good, making him even more lethal.
“Spit it out, Ben.”
“This isn’t their norm. You know, hitting a smaller caravan back to back. They stick mainly to trains…and much larger caravans…but mainly trains.”
“You thinking inside job?”
“Yeah, I am.”
Jack sighed. “I was too. I was also thinking that the two men who are missing are Charles Dewitt and his hired hand.” He slid his eyes to Benjamin. “Don’t you find that odd?”
“I do, but I saw Charles get tackled and thrown on a horse. Bonnie saw Piper being drug away.” He shrugged. “Looks like William is it.”
“Not necessarily,” Jack countered, his voice low.
“Why?”
“What better farce than to pretend to be kidnapped? It would open up a whole world of possibilities. Night before? Yeah, that was a dry run to see what would happen. To see what we would do.” Jack shook his head, his eyes narrowed. “Two Marshalls only for a caravan that’s transporting mainly businessmen and their families and bankers and theirs, with a ton of gold and silver, not to mention the paper money. It was bad from the beginning. Should have had at least four Marshalls.”
“What’s done is done, Jack.”
“That part is done. Their part is coming.”
“You know as…”
“Leave it alone.” Jack warned. Benjamin stared at him for a moment knowing that the time wasn’t right for him to hear what needed to be said. It would have to wait.
“That lying piece of…” Benjamin’s words were cut off by Jack racing back. His face said it all.
“Dewitt lied. The town is only another three miles. It wasn’t twenty! It was no more than ten! If that!”
“I don’t understand why he would have lied.”
Jack looked at Benjamin pointedly.
“Ah. Yes.” Benjamin nodded. “Wasn’t really looking for a town. He was meeting up with the hiding gang.”
“You’re a truly smart one,” Jack said dryly. “Get everyone moving again. We can’t afford a break. I want to be in that town before nightfall.”
“You planning on us going after them after dark?” Benjamin asked, a warning tone in his voice.
“Won’t be the first time we’ve done something like it.”
“Yeah, but that was one or two people…not eight…or more.”
Jack’s dark look closed Benjamin’s mouth. He turned his horse to take care of the task himself.
“Lord, I do believe Black Hands has fallen in love.”
The town stretched out before them, many buildings and movement promising the help they would need. The rain that had threatened for two days had finally come, but it was only a light drizzle, and Jack wasn’t worried it would hinder his pursuit. If anything the damp ground would yield crisper footprints and other telltale signs that he would need.
“Get the injured ones to the town doctor first,” Jack told Blaine Brackett.
“What are you going to do?”
“Benjamin and I are going to speak to the town Sheriff.”
“Good thinking.” Blaine nodded. I’ll get the sick ones settled and then see about room accommodations.” He shook his head. “Piper will be sorely missed for the bartering.”
Benjamin shot Jack a quick look as Piper’s name flew carelessly from Blaine’s lips. He saw the jaw muscle pop his beard out, but he said nothing.
“Let’s go, Jack.”
Jack and Benjamin trotted their horses down the hillside out of the main tree line that seemed to encase the town in a horseshoe shape. The Sheriff’s office wasn’t hard to find. It was the center building on the main street, and the upstairs had heavy iron bars over the windows. Jack looked upward and could see hands dangling through the bars. It was obvious they already had a few visitors. His heart leaped with a dangerous hope that the cells held the Faceless Gang and Piper was somewhere in the town safe and unharmed. His skin crawled whenever his mind jumped ahead of itself, and he imagined the horrors that might be happening to her.
They dismounted and loosely tied their horse reins to the fence posting above the complimentary watering trough. Benjamin followed Jack onto the wooden walkway and into the Sheriff’s office. A man of about forty looked up from papers on his desk, his salt and pepper hair slightly ruffled. Gray eyes flicked towards their gun holsters.
“Can I help you, boys?”
Jack moved the lapel of his jacket to reveal the star he wore. “I’m U.S. Marshall Jack Walker, and this is Marshall Benjamin Graves.”
The Sheriff leaned back in his chair and regarded Jack with an amused expression.
“Are you Black Hands Walker?” He looked pointedly at the black leather gloves sitting snuggly on Jack’s hands.
“I am.”
He tossed his head back and laughed. Jack and Benjamin exchanged an uneasy look. The Sheriff stood and extended a hand over the desk.
“You’re a legend, son.”
Jack shook his hand. “I am?”
“You bet you are. Hey, Will, come in here and meet a real life legend!” The Sheriff held a hand to Benjamin as well, as a young man entered from another room. His red hair and freckles reminded Jack of the Brackett boys.
“I’m Sheriff Poole, and this is my deputy Will Rodgers.”
Jack felt the air deflate from his lungs.
“You only have one deputy?”
“For right now I do.”
Jack shook his head and looked at Benjamin.
“This isn’t going to work.”
Sheriff Poole looked from one man to the other.
“What’s not going to work?”
Benjamin quickly explained how the caravan had left Boston headed for Detroit and what the caravan purpose was. He gave a condensed version of the two attacks, with the final bit of information spoken softly.
“They also took Jack’s fiancée.”
“Oh.” The Sheriff shook his head. “I’ve heard of that gang of outlaws, but I didn’t think they would be much of a problem here. They were mainly hitting trains and stagecoaches on the East Coast, right?”
“Yes, we think so, but they may be responsible for a few robberies as far west as Ohio.”
“They work fast. This isn’t easy terrain to go over. I mean the closer you are to the coast it is, but not here in upper state. Our biggest problems are the occasional runaway slave or Indian that’s left behind causing trouble.”
“Did a band of men come through here last night?” Jack asked through clenched teeth. He had no interest in the problems of that little town.
“Nope. Not that we know of. We would have noticed a group of that size riding together. Especially if they had only a single woman with them.”
“Do you have a map?”
“Sure.” Sheriff Poole nodded and whispered to Deputy Rodgers. The young man hurried from the room, returning swiftly with two large rolled documents. The Sheriff took one and moved things on his desk so he could spread it out.
“Now, it’s not a great one, but it does show a forty mile radius of the town.” He pointed a rough finger on the western edge of the map. “Just imagine past this area. That’s going to be Albany. It’s a far larger place than here.”
“Yes, I’ve been there,” Jack commented. “I was purposefully not hitting all of the bigger places on our trip. Sometimes a city c
an pose more danger for a caravan than the wilderness.”
“I understand that.”
Jack studied the map with his weight held on the palms of his hands. The others watched in silence as he pointed to a spot east of the town.
“Is the terrain still accurate?”
“Ohm, pretty much. I had this made about fifteen months ago.”
Jack spoke softly. “This was about where we were last night.” He lifted his eyes to Benjamin’s. “See the clearing and the varied tree copses?”
“I see.”
“Do you have a pencil?”
“I do.” The Sheriff picked one up from the edge of the desk and handed it to Jack.
Jack licked the lead tip and lightly marked the spot he had indicated, before tracing a line in two directions away from the spot.
“If they wanted to avoid towns or largely populated areas they would have taken these routes. See how they can go around this town from either way to get to Albany?”
“Do you think that’s where they would go?” Benjamin asked.
“I think that’s where they would go for the time being. It’s easier to get lost in a place that size than one like here.” Jack straightened. I think the north route is more likely. Too many farms and little hamlets along the south.”
Benjamin studied the map. “I see what you’re saying.” He pointed to a pale blue line running parallel to the route Jack had traced. “Are these streams?”
“They’re rivers. The one going north that intersects the one going west is the Hudson, and the other that continues on past Albany is the Mohawk.”
“They’ll stay near the rivers,” Jack said with certainty. He looked at Marshall Poole. “Do you have available men that you use for militia reasons?”
The Sheriff stared at him blankly.
“I mean…I have two honorary deputies for different things.”
“I don’t have time to wait for more Marshalls I need a couple more people to assist in this.”
“Right. Let me see what I can do. Give me until morning.”
“I’ll give you until nightfall.”
The Sheriff nodded slowly. “Alright, Marshall Walker. I’ll do what I can.”
Jack and Benjamin left the Sheriff’s office with directions to the doctor. They checked on the two men with gunshot wounds, both serious enough that they would be spending the evening in the infirmary. The few others with minor injuries were already treated. Jack was grateful that the two serious injuries were men who were traveling alone. There had been enough heartache and trauma for the women. He noticed Mrs. Baxter staring with a faraway look on her face into the front door of the doctor’s building. She wrung her hands unconsciously, her face still blotted and red.
“Mrs. Baxter?” Jack asked gently. “Is there something I can do for you?”
“He was a fool,” she whispered.
“Excuse me?”
She turned watery eyes up to Jack’s face. “My husband was a fool. Why would he think at our age that we should go tromping through the wilderness to a new city? Boston had been good to us. We had weathered the trials of starting a new bank there. We had even survived my closed womb.” A skinny tear fell past her gray lashes. “He was a fool.”
Jack didn’t know what to say. How could he comfort her? He opened his mouth and hoped that his words wouldn’t be crass or too short.
“I’m sure he thought he was doing a good thing.” Jack placed an arm around her shoulder and began leading her away. Mr. Baxter was buried at the scene of his death. There was nothing for her in the doctor’s office. “He died bravely, Mrs. Baxter. He died protecting the money.” Jack shook his head, knowing that wasn’t entirely true. “He died protecting you.”
A brittle sob escaped her lips, and she laid her head against Jack’s chest as he continued to lead her. He was looking for one person in particular, and once he found her and their eyes met, she came immediately.
Bonnie shifted baby Ruth to her opposite hip and replaced Jack’s arm around Mrs. Baxter’s shoulder. Jack dug out three dollars from his pocket and several pieces of silver.
“Make sure she is tended to tonight. Don’t let her be alone for too long,” he said quietly. “I’ll replace whatever money you and Blaine have to put out.”
“I won’t let her alone, Marshall. You just see to getting Miss Piper back.”
“I will.” Jack watched the heavier younger woman lead the frail older one away. He knew Bonnie had enough on her with her own children, but he couldn’t think of a better person to look after the grieving widow. Bonnie had a big heart; it was obvious even to him.
“Jack, we need to talk.” Benjamin came to his side once the women were out of earshot.
“Alright, Ben. Let’s get a drink. I sorely need one.”
“No, you don’t.”
Jack followed his friend to the nearest hotel, surprised to find that the town had two separate ones. He had no doubt that the one at the southern end of the street was more of a brothel, and made a mental note to tell Bonnie and the other women to keep their men clear of that one.
Benjamin pointed to a table and then went to the bar, returning with two small mugs of coffee.
“Coffee?”
“Yes. We both need to be clear headed right now.”
“What do you want to talk about? Besides the fact that you don’t think we should begin the search tonight?”
“I’ve come to grips with that. We need to get a move on. Time’s wasting.”
“I’m glad you see my point of view.”
Benjamin toyed with the mug and looked at Jack hard.
“I need to know that your head is right.”
“My head is always right.”
“No, it isn’t. Not this time.”
Jack sighed. “What can I say, Ben? They took Piper.”
“You love her?”
Jack looked up expecting to see the usual teasing expression or jovial look that Benjamin seemed to sport at all times, but at that moment his face was stone serious.
“I do love her. I can’t say why, seeing as how I can’t even talk to her. I think I might have loved her since I first saw her red hair peeking out from under her bonnet as she struggled to drag her trunk, by herself, down the ship’s gangplank.”
“That’s why your head isn’t on straight. This gang is dangerous. They’re a loose cannon in the way they tested us before actually taking what they wanted.” He rubbed at the several days’ worth of stubble on his chin and cheeks. “You can’t go off half-cocked with Piper being the only thing on your mind. There’s people’s fortunes at stake, and there’s justice to think about. You can’t just kill all of them, Jack.”
“I know that.”
“You said you were going to kill them all.”
Jack leaned over the table, his brown eyes hard like flint.
“I will kill whomever I need to if it means getting her and the money back.” He leaned back against the chair again, his eyes steady. “Is that better?”
“Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord.”
“Don’t start with that. You live like a heathen half the time, yet when you want to drive a point home, you bring out Holy Scripture. It isn’t right.”
“I know it, but you better wrap your mind around it. Your little woman is a Christian.” He lifted his hands palms outward before bringing his fingers down in dismissal. “We both should pay better attention. How many times do you think God spared our lives?”
“More than a few,” Jack agreed, sipping at the hot black coffee.
“Exactly. Maybe once we’re done with this, we should look into real salvation, my friend.” Benjamin eyed him warily expecting protest, laughter, or downright anger; but all he received was Jack staring moodily into his coffee mug.
“Maybe you’re right.” Jack lifted his eyes, and Benjamin despised the sadness he saw there. “I didn’t try hard enough with her. I shouldn’t have tried to work with her coming at the same time. I did little to make her
time easier. I mean the blanket separating the room the day she arrived seemed to please her, and me asking her to ride with me after Baxter took sick, but I made that flower bouquet too late.”
“Jack,” Benjamin shook his head. “She’s in an entirely new country, away from her loved ones, and let’s face it; you can be rough, but she didn’t run away screaming the first day. She has heart, and I do believe she’s tough as nails. So, Charles Dewitt stole her attention? If he’s what we think he is, she won’t have eyes for anyone but you once this thing is over.”
Chapter Eight
Piper was weary of the sway of the wagon. She was weary of Charles’s hot back rubbing against hers. But mostly, she was weary of the bandana that was forced between her teeth and the sack still over her head. The itchy material had left a rash along her cheeks, and she could feel it burning and itching.
The wagon finally stopped, and Piper breathed in the fresh night air as she was untied from Charles and helped from the back of the wagon. The hands handling her that evening were far gentler than the one’s from the night before. She could smell burning firewood and hear snickers and coarse talk as her sack and bandana were removed. William was the first face she focused on. As soon as the bandana was untied, she allowed her tongue to begin its lashing.
“You traitorous man! Mr. Dewitt hired you out of the goodness of his heart to drive his buggy, and you…you…spat in his face!”
William laughed, exposing his missing teeth.
“You think so? How ‘bout you ask him about his buggy.”
Charles stepped in front of Piper, rubbing at his wrists where they had been tied for almost a full day. He smiled sheepishly at her.
“Wasn’t my buggy, darling. I stole that in Boston before we left. The morning we left to be exact. I needed a viable excuse for William to be with me.”
“What?” Piper looked from Charles to William and then at the eight faces lit by the crackling fire. “I don’t understand.”
“It was my plan. I had to be part of the caravan to understand how to handle the Marshalls. You…well you were a pleasant surprise.”