The Bluebird

by Kristy McCaffrey

  “I understand you’re Robert’s sister. I must apologize for this misunderstanding. I’m Shep Lannigan.” He extended a hand to her.

  She stared at him, making no effort to hide her disbelief. How could she shake his hand with her wrists bound?

  “Untie Miss Simms,” Lannigan demanded.

  One of the men stepped behind her and sawed through the rope with a knife until her hands were free. He knelt before her and did the same with the binding at her ankles.

  Molly rubbed her right wrist, which chafed the most. “Where is my brother?”

  “He seems to have lost track of time while in the mountains. I have no doubt he’ll turn up soon. I must insist that you be my guest at my ranch. My daughter Bridget will be very happy to have another young woman in residence. You can both await Robert’s return. It’s only a matter of time before Robert and Bridget announce their engagement.”

  Winston tensed. Why was he disturbed by that statement?

  Jake had told Molly that she’d been followed by a man who worked for Shep Lannigan. If Lannigan suspected she knew where Robert was, then he clearly didn’t know himself. Her gaze met Jake’s. She had only known him a short time, but already she could read his expression. Stay quiet.

  Molly raised her chin a notch. “I appreciate your offer, but I’m afraid I won’t leave Jake and Pedro.”

  “I wouldn’t concern yourself with those two,” Lannigan said, then turned to face Jake. “You’re such a thorn in my side, McKenna, always sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

  “I could say the same for you,” Jake replied.

  “You tried to steal my claim, remember?”

  “Bullshit. I filed the Shanghai first, then your men re-staked it.”

  “You can always hire a lawyer to follow up on your fabricated version of events.”

  A muscle in Jake’s cheek flexed. “You push enough men around, and they’ll eventually rise up against you.”

  “Empty threats from a desperate man. And now you’re dragging an unmarried woman around the countryside.” Shep gestured towards her. “How typical of you to ignore the rules of civilized society.”

  “Creede is hardly civilized,” Jake retorted with a smirk. “Men like you make certain of that.”

  “Men like me are trying to bring enlightenment and culture. Who builds the schools and the churches?”

  “At what cost? You swindle and ruin men, then sweep them aside like nothing more than an ant pile.”

  “And a man like you is the answer?” Lannigan shook his head. “You believe you can take matters into your own hands, and that makes you the most dangerous kind out there. What is it that you’re called? The Jackal? I can well imagine the underhanded deeds that earned you that name.”

  “You have no idea.” The threat in Jake’s voice sent a shiver through Molly.

  Lannigan stepped back to Molly’s side, his lips spreading out beneath his mustache. “I appreciate that women find McKenna quite charming. It’s all an act, I can assure you, Miss Simms. You wouldn’t be the first female in this town to fall for it. I feel it’s my duty to look after you as if you were my own daughter.” He reached a hand out to her.

  She didn’t take it. “I don’t know you, sir.”

  “I understand,” Lannigan replied. “You boys can vouch for me, can’t you?” He swung his gaze to the five men currently holding them hostage.

  “Yes, sir,” Winston said, as did the others.

  Molly wanted to throw it back in Lannigan’s face. She wasn’t a ninny. The hypocrisy of the situation all but choked the air in the room, but fear held her in check.

  “I can wait for my brother in town.” She kept her voice low to hide her nervousness.

  “You could,” Lannigan agreed, “but Robert’s first stop will no doubt be my ranch. He’ll want to see Bridget the first chance he gets, and, of course, you. I know he’ll be happy if I offer you a place to stay.”

  While Lannigan attempted to keep this exchange light—giving the impression that Molly had a choice—she sensed the iron command underlying it. Shep Lannigan had no intention of letting her go.

  Her stomach clenched, and she hoped she wouldn’t lose the last meal she’d eaten.

  “What will happen to Mister Elizondo and Mister McKenna?” she asked.

  Lannigan adjusted his hat. “Oh, you don’t need to worry about them. My men will see that they account for their misdeeds then make sure they get home.”

  “And what misdeeds are those?” she asked. “I seem to have lost the gist of that during the conversation.” She felt Jake’s glare upon her. He wanted her to remain quiet. Was it for her own safety, or was he really as unsavory as Lannigan implied?

  “These aren’t topics for a refined young woman.” Lannigan nodded to Winston, who stood behind her.

  The man had the gall to slip his hands under her armpits and haul her to stand.

  She gasped and yanked free of Winston. “Don’t touch me. I demand that you let them go.” She nodded toward Jake and Pedro.

  “I understand your passionate response,” Lannigan said to her as if she were a child, “but you’ve no idea the trouble these two have caused. You best stay out of it, Miss Simms.” His gray eyes held her in a steely vise. “I really must insist.”

  For the second time, fear snaked down Molly’s spine, but she maintained her outward composure, not wanting any of them to know how much all of this spooked her.

  “Molly, you should go.” Jake’s voice cut through the tension holding her legs rooted to the floor.

  No.

  “I’ll come visit you in a few days,” he added.

  Lannigan shook his head but said nothing.

  Molly gave a stiff nod. “Fine.” She tugged at the hem of the fitted jacket she wore, straightening it. “I’ll go on one condition.”

  “And what might that be?” Lannigan asked, as if he meant to indulge her.

  Molly suspected he wouldn’t, but she had to try. “Your men won’t hurt Jake and Pedro. Because I’ll find out. And I’ll go to the Marshal about it.” She swung around and pinned James Winston with a hard stare. “I know what you look like.” She shifted her gaze to Emmett Jones, his long face covered in a sheen of sweat. “And you.” She took in the other three men—they didn’t need to be aware that she didn’t know their identity. “All of you.”

  Lannigan laughed, a forced response. “My men aren’t outlaws, Miss Simms. We don’t go around murdering and pillaging. I’m sorry if we gave that impression, but you must understand that we have business with these two. There’s no reason you need to be a part of it. My men retrieved your horse. It’s time we were on our way.”

  Molly glanced at Pedro—the Mexican hung his head and muttered obscenities under his breath. Her gaze snagged Jake’s. For one wild moment, she wanted to kiss him, hard and long, but it wasn’t lost on her that he could be as dangerous as Shep Lannigan.

  She’d do well not to trust any of them.

  She walked out of the cabin.

  Chapter Seven

  Jake watched Molly leave.

  It was for the best.

  If there was to be trouble—and there would be—she didn’t need to be in the middle of it.

  He settled a dispassionate gaze on Lannigan. “If you harm one hair on her head, you’ll have me to answer to.”

  Shep pretended to dust off the sleeves of his jacket. “I have never, nor will I ever, answer to you, McKenna.” He turned to exit the house, then paused at the threshold. “And just so we’re clear, the Bluebird is mine.”

  So that’s what this was about, the elusive Bluebird lode. Steeped in legend and myth, Jake had searched for it along with nearly every other prospector in town, but Lannigan had staked a territory around it—just as mythical, in Jake’s opinion—going as far as stealing claims. But Jake had little proof. Someone had doctored the claim he’d filed on the Shanghai two months ago. Taking Lannigan to court over it would prove pointless, and Lannigan knew it.
r />   Yet another divisive point between Jake and Robert.

  “No one knows where the Bluebird is, estúpido,” Pedro cut in.

  “I will. And soon.” Lannigan departed, a smug look on his face.

  No one spoke or moved until the staccato of hoof beats faded into nothingness.

  Winston grinned at Jake. “Payback time.”

  “Is this over the money you lost at the Orleans awhile back?” Jake had managed to strip Winston of a nice chunk of cash at the blackjack table one night.

  “Oh, I took care of that,” Winston replied, conceit in his tone.

  Realization hit Jake. That’s what happened to my money.

  It wasn’t Robert who’d stolen it. Winston was the thief.

  Jake kept his smug satisfaction to himself when he felt the rope that bound his wrists give way. During his smuggling days in China, he had acquired the habit of keeping a small, serrated blade tucked into a custom-made pocket in his boot. Before Lannigan’s men had tied him up, he’d retrieved it and tucked it into his hand. He’d been steadily sawing away at his ropes all afternoon.

  As Winston came at him, Jake slid the coils from his wrist and waited until the man was nearly upon him. As he butted him in the face with his right palm, he grabbed the man’s gun from the hip holster with his left hand, cocked the hammer and swung it in a half-circle. The other men stopped in their tracks.

  “You jackass!” Winston lay on his back, holding his nose while blood seeped through his fingers.

  “I’ve been called worse.” Jake considered his assailants. His feet were still bound. A moment’s distraction to extricate himself, and they’d all be on him. And Pedro was still tied up. He needed to get him free as well. “Drop all your guns, boys,” he instructed.

  For a moment, none of them did anything.

  Jake pointed his weapon at each of them in turn. He probably didn’t have enough bullets to finish them all off, and he was reluctant to do that. The end result would only land him in jail. But he also didn’t want to end up dead.

  He aimed more clearly for Emmett Jones, since he was the next in line of command with Winston down. With a look of disgust, Jones pulled his gun and set it on the floor. The others slowly followed suit.

  “You too, Winston,” Jake said.

  The man pushed his gun along the smooth wooden planks toward Jake, a lethal rage flashing in his eyes, the only thing visible on his bloody face.

  “Back up now, boys.” Jake waved the tip of the gun for emphasis.

  They did as they were told, but Jake knew he didn’t have long before they contemplated jumping him. He scooted his chair to the side then back, hoping to catch a glimpse of the blade he’d dropped.

  Still watching the men, Jake leaned to his right and swept his hand on the floor until it hit the sharp weapon. Grabbing it, he worked it quickly against the ropes around his ankles. Once he was loose, he went to Pedro, freed the man’s hands, and handed the blade to him. The Mexican got loose of the last of his bindings and stood. He grabbed two guns while Jake picked up a second one.

  Pedro cocked both hammers and pointed the guns at two of the men. “Let me shoot ’em before we go.”

  “They’re not worth it, amigo.” Jake scowled. “But get more rope. I’m always happy to return a favor.”

  * * *

  The ride with Shep Lannigan didn’t take as long as Molly thought it would. He’d pushed hard, and she’d had to concentrate to keep her horse on target behind him, so there’d been little conversation.

  She hoped she was doing the right thing.

  She wished fervently that Robert would appear soon, safe and sound.

  Robert had left their home in Tucson two years ago, eighteen years old and eager to make his way. Their mama had held her tongue, but Molly knew she hadn’t wanted him to go. Her pa had been annoyingly supportive.

  Molly had been heartbroken. Robert was her brother, her friend, her nemesis. She’d grown up seeking his approval, while at the same time railing against his sometimes-controlling ways.

  When he’d sent word that he’d finally settled in Colorado, she’d hatched a plan to visit him almost immediately. Waiting until she was eighteen herself had been in deference to her folks, and convincing them to let her come alone had been hard-won.

  They’d agreed after her stubbornness and relentless begging had worn them down but stipulated that Robert had to look out for her.

  And now he was nowhere to be found.

  Her body tensed. She would need to write to her mama soon. She couldn’t put it off much longer. What would she say?

  Please be all right, Robert.

  It was her chant, repeated over and over.

  If Robert truly was sweet on Lannigan’s daughter, then Molly had to believe that coming to the Lannigan ranch was the best and most sensible course of action in locating her brother.

  But Jake…

  Worry gnawed at her, adding to her unease.

  A large ranch came into view as the sun dipped low on the horizon. South of Creede, the flat, open area was near a part of town she’d heard referred to as Jimtown. Molly shook her head over the unoriginality of the name. Why didn’t the townspeople refer to the entire area as Creede? Likely, a collection of men couldn’t come to an agreement.

  A rider greeted them at a gate, the name SHEPHERD’S PASS spelled out in dark gray metal on an archway above. As soon as they passed through, the man latched the gate and locked it. This didn’t bode well.

  Her horse trailed Lannigan’s as they passed a large corral and various buildings to their right. The main house came into view, and Molly couldn’t help but be impressed. Lannigan’s wealth was plain to see in the large two-story structure and wide porch.

  A young man exited the front door and came to greet them.

  “Hi, Pa.”

  “Archie, this is Miss Simms. She’s Robert’s sister, and she’ll be staying with us. Please help her with her things, and then get her horse settled in the barn.”

  Molly dismounted as the youth nodded and approached her. His head continued to bob up and down, and he smiled too much. Her mama’s voice rang in her head—people like that see the world at a different speed than we do.

  She held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Archie.”

  He took it, glancing off to the side before briefly meeting her eyes with a bashful peek. He couldn’t be more than fifteen or sixteen and was a bit short for a boy his age. Archie hadn’t inherited the height of his father or his dark features; freckles covered his face, and a mop of straw-hued hair went in wild directions atop his head.

  “I’ll bring your things inside.” Archie’s gaze remained downward.

  Despite her reservations about Shep Lannigan, Molly couldn’t help but like his son. “Thank you.”

  “Is your sister here?” Lannigan asked Archie.

  The boy nodded and continued to do so as he departed with the horses.

  Molly followed Lannigan up the wide steps to the porch, then entered through an ornately decorated glass door. The entryway was filled with polished dark wood and plush carpeting.

  “Bridget?” Lannigan yelled in no particular direction, then removed his hat and hung it on a hook.

  “Coming,” a distant female voice answered.

  A young woman with auburn hair and a slim figure descended the staircase, her ankle-length plaid skirt swaying atop a pile of petticoats. She stopped before them, her blue eyes guarded as she looked at Molly.

  “This is Robert’s sister, Molly Simms.”

  Bridget’s gaze brightened. “I’m so happy to finally meet you.” She pulled Molly into a brief, awkward hug. “Did you come all the way from Arizona?”

  “Yes.”

  “Alone?”

  Molly nodded, struck by the comeliness of Bridget Lannigan.

  Bridget laughed. “You’re so brave. Does Robert know you’re here?”

  “It would seem he doesn’t,” Lannigan interrupted. “So please get Miss Simms settled
in one of the guest rooms. She’ll be staying with us for now.”

  “Of course,” Bridget replied.

  Molly accompanied Bridget upstairs, feeling a bit conspicuous in the dark wool skirt, cotton blouse, and dusty fitted jacket she wore, all sorely in need of laundering. “Do you know where Robert is?”

  Bridget’s cheery countenance softened. “I’m afraid I don’t.”

  They walked down a long hallway, passing several doors, and then Bridget finally led her into a bedroom.

  The room wasn’t large, but the accommodations were certainly fancy with a large four-poster bed, a tall mahogany wardrobe, and a sofa. Molly stepped inside and sighed audibly. “Your home is beautiful,” she said quietly.

  She hadn’t traveled much—mostly long trips to Texas to visit her Aunt Molly and Uncle Matt, although she sometimes stayed with Aunt Em and Uncle Nathan.

  “Thank you,” Bridget replied. “You must be tired. Did Papa pick you up at the train station?”

  “Something like that.” Molly didn’t know how much she should say about Shep Lannigan’s tactics in front of his daughter. “Was Robert with James Winston?”

  Bridget’s eyes widened in surprise. “You know James?”

  “Only briefly.”

  “Well, yes, sometimes my pa sends Robert and James out together.” Her brow pinched in a crease. “I’m not really sure why Robert’s so delayed this time.” She wrung her hands and glanced to the side.

  Molly was certain she didn’t imagine Bridget’s discomfort. She waited for the woman purported to be Robert’s sweetheart to say something more.

  “I’m sure he just forgot that you were coming,” Bridget said, but her tone was half-hearted. “I’m confident he’ll be along any day now.”

  “How long have you and he…”

  Bridget fidgeted, and for some reason, that was reassuring. It made the woman seem more real. She hated to think that Robert had fallen for someone who lacked heart.

  “Not long. A few months now.”

  “I’m afraid he never mentioned you in letters home, or else I would’ve tried to contact you sooner.” A little white lie, but had Jake McKenna not intervened—and had Molly not been followed, probably by a Lannigan man—she liked to think she would have.