“Are you hurt? They dropped you pretty hard.”
Addie lifted her face from her knee, stunning Lydia with her determined, angry expression. Her breath heaved between her tense lips in little pants. “So far I think I'm all right.”
Lydia opened her mouth to speak, but a grating voice outside the window interrupted her thought.
“Think they'll take the bait?”
“Hell yeah,” another gruff male tone growled. “They'll be combing the prairie for hours, fumbling around in the dark. The rest of them will be sitting ducks.”
“I still don't like this plan,” a third, softer voice spoke into the night. “Slaughtering women and children just isn't right.”
“Which is why you aren't going,” Blaylock said. “Randall, if you weren't my last remaining son, I'd string you up myself. You're as weak as your mother. Just sit here on your ass and guard these two. Think you can manage that?”
“What choice do I have?” the young man asked bitterly. “We're miles from civilization, not counting that rotten town, and all the horses are leaving shortly.”
“You don't need horses, idiot,” the rough voice replied with a guffaw. “Between the boss's gimpy leg and his bad arm, he can't ride anyway, and the last time you sat a horse, you fell off, remember? Landed right on a horse apple.” Roaring with laughter, the gruff voiced man stomped away.
The soft voice did not answer, and two footsteps, one soft, the other uneven, wandered away from the window. In the pale moonlight, Lydia saw Addie's eyes grow wide. “Oh, God. They're using us as bait to lure the men away from town,” she whispered.
Lydia nodded.
“We have to do something. At least warn them.”
“How?” Lydia demanded in a furious hiss. “They threw away my gun. If I had that, I might be able to do something, but I'm unarmed.”
“You may be, but I'm not.” Addie reached into her boot and drew out a thin, wicked-looking blade.
“You know how to use that?” Lydia demanded, “Or did Jesse give it to you as a present?”
“Once, a man threatened me… and this baby.” She waved her hand in the direction of her belly. “That man will not be bothering anyone again.” Her eyes narrowed to slits and her jaw locked. “Don't mistake me for a soft, city-bred girl, Lydia. I'm half wild mountain-woman and half Kiowa Indian. I know how to fight, and I'm not afraid to do it.”
Her fierceness brought a wicked smile to Lydia's lips. “Then we have reason to hope. Put that away until we need it, and let's figure out a plan.”
“Billy,” Allison said in her softest voice, “I need your help. Can you come with me?”
“Are we going outside, Miss Allie?” Billy Fulton's thick lips twisted in confusion.
“That's right, Billy. We forgot some folks and it's not right. You and I are going to go get them.”
“I'm not good with a gun, Miss Allie. They scare me.”
She laid a hand on his bulky arm. “I know, Billy. I'll carry the gun. I need you to be sure no one is sneaking up behind us, okay?”
He nodded. Allison cast a longing glance at her son, now cradled in Becky's arms, and on her stepdaughter, asleep beside them on the pew. She lifted her eyes to receive Kristina's solemn wave from the balcony. Then she and Billy slipped out into the darkness, ducked between two buildings and headed toward the east edge of town.
“Damnation!” Dylan roared and Jesse uttered a fouler curse at the sight of the abandoned soddie and its decaying barn, still empty save for the spiders that had taken up residence. No sign of a camp, or any human habitation in ages.
“I don't understand,” Rob muttered. “I just don't understand. What else could they have done? Set up camp on the open prairie?”
“If they did,” Jesse answered grimly, “good luck finding them.”
“Are there no other homesteads or structures that could be turned into the foundation of a makeshift camp?” Dylan asked.
“Plenty.” Wesley stalked toward them, crushing prairie grass under his feet. “Gentlemen, I don't think this kidnapping was anything less than a calculated attempt to lure us out of town. Yes, they'll have their revenge on the sheriff and his deputy, but we've also left the rest of the women mostly unguarded.”
A murmur rippled through the posse.
“What do you suggest then, Wes?” Dylan demanded. “Do you mean for us to abandon Ilse, Lydia and Addie to their fate?”
“Wesley, you've been my best friend since we were born.” Even in the dim lamplight, Dylan could see the redness of Jesse's eyes. “I've lost one woman I loved. Please don't ask me to lose Addie too.”
“Of course not,” Wesley insisted. “I would never suggest such a thing. I think… I think we need to split up. So send half of the men home. We jumped in too fast, committed too many men. Half of us should still be able to take down a small camp of robbers if, in fact, they're still all at their camp.”
“Good thinking, Wes,” Dylan agreed.
Lydia's heart pounded so hard, she feared her ribs might crack, but she slowly nodded. “That just might work.” She met Addie's brown eyes and saw shocking cold sternness there.
“If I'm going to die, I'd rather die fighting.”
“We might not die,” Lydia pointed out.
“Don't,” Addie urged. “We have to try, but you know what the odds are. No false hope, Lydia.”
She's right, Lydia admitted to herself. Her breath caught. How many more breaths do I have left? How many heartbeats? She closed her eyes against the sudden sting. “Don't give up. Give it all you've got. For your baby. For Jesse.”
“For Dylan,” Addie replied. Lydia nodded. “I'm glad to have known you, Lydia Carré. It wasn't long enough, but you were a great friend.”
“I'm glad to have known you too, Addie,” Lydia replied. “I still have to hold on to hope. It's my way. But should anything happen, remember, you and your baby come before me. Promise me.”
“I would like to argue that with you, but I can't.” Addie broke eye contact, staring at the floor. At last her composure seemed to give way. Her shoulders shook and her inhalation held an echo of a sob. Lydia reached out and gripped her arm.
From a short distance, voices rose in discord, shouting. A woman screamed, and then a brief, sharp explosion cut off the scream into eerie silence.
Creeping between the buildings in the dark was something Allison had never considered doing. No one had ever dared her. No one had ever encouraged such a wild feat. And yet, here I am, a grown woman, a wife and mother, slinking through the shadows like a naughty child… right up to a building I've never dared approach in my life.
“Oooh!” Billy said, pointing. “I know this place. Miss Julie lives here.”
“Miss Julie?” Allison raised her eyebrows.
“Uh huh. She's my friend. I go and talk to her. Sometimes she lets me go in her room, but I'm not supposed to talk about it.” He giggled.
Well there you have it, Allison thought. She sighed and crept up to the front of the quiet three story building. Even in the moonlight, the garish red paint seemed to glow, and the gilt name, Chester's Saloon, caught the faint illumination and flashed. Though the bar had been closed down, lights shone from inside, and the sound of women talking spilled into the street.
Allison heaved a sigh and knocked on the door.
“We're closed,” someone shouted.
“I know,” she called back. “That's not why I'm here.”
Skirts swished inside and a moment later a mature woman with fading gingery hair appeared in a halo of light. “What do you want? You can't shut down the saloon, you know.”
“I know that,” Allison snapped. “I had nothing to do with it. Please, I need you to listen to me. We're all in danger.”
“What danger?” A round face framed with long, dark brown curls appeared beside the older woman.
“Miss Julie!” Billy cheered, waving at the pretty brunette.
“Oh, hi, Billy,” she replied, smiling.
; “I assume Chester is out with the posse?” Allison guessed, focused on the danger.
“Yep,” the redhead confirmed.
“Well, so is everyone else. I mean, everyone. All the able bodied men in town have run off and left us. We've gathered at the church for safety, but it occurred to me that no one thought to warn you.”
“Thank you for letting us know.” The woman attempted to close the door.
“Wait,” Allison said. “Listen, I don't think you all should stay here. It's easier if we all stick together.”
The redhead's jaw dropped. “You're… inviting us into the church?”
Allison nodded. “Lydia would have wanted it that way.”
“What happened to Lydia?” Another young woman, this one blond, pushed past the older woman onto the porch.
“She was kidnapped, along with two other women,” Billy said loudly.
“Billy.” Allison shot the young man an exasperated look. “Please keep your voice down. If anyone is creeping up on us, we don't want to let them know where we are.”
“Lydia was kidnapped?” The brunette stared in horror.
“Yes, that's why the posse was formed.” Allison studied the floorboards.
“Well, that's just terrible,” the blond said, and from the tone of her voice, she meant it.
“Yes, it is. So the men have gone to fetch them back, but we don't want them to come home to a slaughter scene. Will you join us?”
“Please come, Julie,” Billy said softly, holding out one blunt-fingered hand to the brown-haired prostitute. She regarded her companions and then stepped out onto the porch, laying her slender fingers on his palm.
“All right,” the redhead conceded. “My name is Ruth. I'll be right back with anyone who wants to accept your invitation.”
Allison nodded. The woman turned back into the saloon. “Oh, Ruth?” The woman turned her head and glanced over her shoulder. “Can any of you shoot?”
A wide grin broke across Ruth's face.
“You know what would be nice?” Becky asked Kristina, stroking one hand over little Melissa's hair.
“What's that?” Kristina stared in fascination at the infant sleeping in her lap.
“When Dylan and Lydia come back, let's surprise them.”
“How?” Kristina wanted to know.
“Well, I know they're getting married, but their planning time got all shot to pieces with this robber business. After all this time, I would hate for them to miss out.”
“I imagine,” Kristina told her friend, “that they'll want to get it done immediately. Not waste a second.”
“Exactly!” Becky tucked one knee up onto the pew so she could face Kristina more fully. “And when they do, how would it be if we had the whole wedding waiting for them. Music, food, dress and all?”
“It's a grand idea,” Kristina admitted, “but how would you figure on accomplishing it?”
“Oh, trust me, I have a plan,” Becky smiled. “We can talk it all out right now, and be ready to jump into action in the morning. Are you interested?”
“Tell me more.”
Dylan watched as Rob led half his posse back into the tall prairie grass, James Heitschmidt at his side.
“I'm surprised you stayed,” he said to Wesley, who stood beside him. A little further off, Jesse paced nervously.
“I know James will watch over them,” Wesley replied. “But if I came home without Lydia, my wife might not speak to me for a month. Besides, I had another thought about where they might be holed up, and it's not too far from here.”
“You know a place I don't, Wes?” Jesse, passing by mid-pace cut in.
“How do I know whether you know it?” Wesley replied. “You did all your courting aboveboard… when you were here.” He leveled a wholly inappropriate smirk on his friend, which Dylan attributed to tension. “I, on the other hand, know a few spots to be alone, should the need arise. There's a ruin of a house, about a half mile east of here. I've been there. It wouldn't be much, since it's not much bigger than this soddie, but it would be a place to start searching.”
“Take me there,” Dylan urged. Hold on, Lydia. I'm coming.
“Did they leave?” Addie hissed.
Lydia glanced out the windows. “Ten men on horses just rode south.”
“Typical,” Addie muttered. “Even injured, a proper leader leads.” She shook her head. “Pitiful.”
“Don't underestimate him,” Lydia urged. “He's faster than you'd think with that gimpy leg, and he's also cunning as hell.”
Addie grinned. “So are we.” She tucked herself further into the corner of the room, along the wall adjacent to the door. Her smile faded and that look of icy tension chased across her features once more. “Ready?”
Lydia dipped her chin in acknowledgement, took a deep breath and called, “Mister! Hey mister!”
The door of the abandoned cabin opened a crack and a long, thin nose poked into the room. “Did you need something?” asked the soft voiced man.
“My friend is sick. You know, expecting and all. She needs to eat something or she's going to throw up and then I'm going to throw up…”
“Let me see what I can find,” the soft voice said. “I'll be right back. Ask her to hold on.”
“Miz Williams?” a voice called from the balcony.
“Yes?” Kristina called back softly.
“Someone's out there.”
Kristina's heart began to pound. She rose slowly and made her way up the stairs to the choir loft, where an elderly man – Jacob Fulton, one of Wesley's great-uncles – sat on the organ bench, peering out into the darkness.
“Any idea who it might be?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Can't tell from here. But they're moving around in the shadows, real creepy-like. He pointed.
Kristina squinted and her heart sank as the moonlight flashed on the barrels of drawn weapons. A tiny pinprick of light flared in the darkness, and then resolved into a bigger light.
“Oh, Lord protect us,” she prayed. Then she called down to the congregation below. “There are people out there with guns and torches, and they're behaving in a way I don't think our family members would. Be ready. And if you're not able to fight, keep your head down… and while you're there, pray. We're in serious trouble.”
I wish Allison was here. She's much better at taking charge. God, help me. I'm so scared. Kristina's stomach swooped and knotted with tension.
From outside, a gruff male voice called, “Come out, come out wherever you are…”
In answer, Kristina leaned over the organ bench and called in the direction of the window, “Get out of here. Go on. Get.”
Jacob grabbed Kristina and pulled her back from the window seconds before the leaded image of the crucifixion exploded into colored shards.
From below, more glass shattered as a member of the congregation took a shot at the shooter.
“They're armed!” She could barely hear one of the criminals shout over the ringing in her ears and the pounding of her heart. “They're ready for us.”
“They're a bunch of old men and girls,” another replied. “We can take 'em.”
“Of course we can,” the first man agreed. “But let's not lose our heads. Even a girl with a gun can get lucky.”
“This is it,” Kristina spoke over the balcony. A child, awakened by the gunfire, began to wail, which in turn woke more children.
Please, God, not this. We need to hear what they're doing out there, not listen to a lot of babies cry. But of course, once the crying began, there was no stopping it.
Sensitive to sound, Kristina longed to clap her hands over her ears. Her tension ratcheted up higher. I can't do this. Allison, where are you?
The sound of gunfire echoed between the buildings. Allison cursed under her breath. “I knew something like this was going to happen, damn it.”
“Looks like you guessed right,” Ruth replied.
“I wish to God I'd been wrong.” Allison crept along the alley,
where it emerged beside Lydia's café, and peered out.
“How many?” Julie hissed in her ear.
“I can see six,” Allison replied, “but there may be more I can't see.”
“What are they doing?” Another woman, whose name Allison couldn't remember, whispered from the back of the group.
“Aiming guns at the church windows,” Allison replied. “Ladies, it looks like I've brought you into a hornet's nest. If you wanted to go back to the saloon… or to run off at this point, I wouldn't blame you. This is about to get really ugly.”
“What are you going to do?” Ruth demanded.
“My sister, my best friend and my children are in there. I have no choice,” Allison replied succinctly.
“I'm staying,” Ruth said, laying a hand on Allison's shoulder. “I know the women in this town don't think much of us, but I won't forget what you did tonight. Let's see if we can give these ruffians something to think about.”
Allison smiled sadly. “You're a good woman, Ruth. Thank you.”
“What do I do?” Billy asked.
“I don't know,” Allison replied honestly. “Pray?”
He nodded, taking the suggestion seriously.
Allison crept out into the street, keeping in the shadow of the café. Focused on the church, none of the robbers noticed her stealthy movements. Selecting one of the men near the front door, who carried a flaming torch, she took aim and waited.
The door of the farmhouse slowly swung open and a man stepped in. Short, thin and possessed of a truly epic nose, he appeared neither fearsome nor threatening. Lydia almost felt sorry for what they were about to do. Almost.
“Here you go. Sorry, all I could manage was porridge. We're a bit low on supplies and… wait, where is she?”
He stared around the room in consternation, and that moment of shock proved to be his undoing. Quick as a flash, Addie wrapped one arm around his waist and with the other, laid her knife against his throat, pressing just enough for him to feel the bite of the blade. The porridge fell with a clatter, the moist contents oozing into the rotting floorboards.
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