She skimmed what he’d written again, searching out one line in particular: Gertie means to kill me.
Edward had named his murderer, written it down for all to see.
She leaped to her feet. She must show the letter to Noah. It’d buy both their freedom and their futures. Then no one else need die. She didn’t have to kill Gertie or Cora.
Clutching the letter to her heart, she ran to the window in search of him. She found him embarking on his return journey across the thoroughfare. Never had the sight of him brought her more joy.
Not once had he let her down—a woman for sale in a saloon. His herd trampling her farm was a thing of the past. She’d forgiven him days ago. He hadn’t meant for it to happen. He truly regretted the loss and pain he’d caused.
She couldn’t even rail at him for her more recent gripes: his bargain with her farm or him locking her so many times in the cell behind her that she knew every corner and cranny as well as she knew those at the Star.
In the end, he helped her regain her health. He’d made her smile. He was honest and protective to a fault and…she loved him for it.
Her heart skipped a beat. She loved him for more than that, so much more. Dear Lord, how she loved him. And now he wasn’t more than a dozen strides away, while she held the means to get them both safely out of Dodge.
A lanky man, collar turned up, hat pulled low, passed her window in a blur. He stopped on the other side of the door.
She jerked back and forgot how to breathe.
The locked doorknob rattled but held. Then footsteps echoed down the boardwalk. Running away. Fast.
Exhaling in relief, she pressed her cheek to the glass and peered outside along the wall. The man darted into the nearest alley. His long coat billowed behind him before he vanished. Who was he? Why had he tried to get inside the jail in plain sight of Noah returning across the street?
More footsteps pounded up the steps onto the boardwalk. Noah stood outside the door, his gaze on the alley where the man had disappeared—while two others closed in on him from behind.
A cry of warning rose on her lips.
One of them struck Noah on the head. He fell to his knees. The men dragged him down the boardwalk and into the alley where the first had gone.
Fear and anger made her reach for the nearest weapon. Her hand halted on her skirt pocket. Three men required three bullets. Davenport’s derringer was only a double barrel. She scrambled around the desk, picked the padlock on the cabinet and yanked the closest rifle from inside.
Muffled voices came from the back alley. Rough voices taunting someone, and laughing. Her chest squeezed tight as a steel trap. Noah was out there. He needed rescuing. What if she botched her attempt? She hadn’t shot a gun since she’d left her farm. Noah needed a hardnosed gunfighter like Bat.
But what would happen to Noah in the time it took her to sprint across the street and fetch the marshal?
Her gaze dropped to the rifle in her hands, and Edward’s letter as well. She’d forgotten she held it. Edward’s words guaranteed her and Noah’s futures. But what good was any future if Noah died before she could use the letter?
Hide it. Use the rifle and derringer to save Noah.
But if she failed with force, she’d need the letter. She could only use it once. Unlike the many weapons in cabinet, there was just one letter.
A solution rose in her mind, loud and clear. So did the rapid thumps and grunts of men fighting. Or men hitting Noah, hurting him.
The chances of them both surviving what lay ahead were slim. The breath she released was quick and full of acceptance. Once again, she must make the most of a losing hand. Time to gamble and bluff and lie.
The truth must remain in the jail. Damned if she let it die with her. On the nearest piece of paper, she wrote the best of her truths. Then she gathered what she needed, left behind what she must—and opened the back door.
CHAPTER 19
Noah’s head thudded like a caved-in water well. Clapboard walls, plus one of brick, spun overhead. In the farthest heavens, the midday sun made stars flash in his eyes. Or was it the devil punching him in the gut? Or the fiend’s cohort choking him from behind with an arm tight as a noose? The stranglehold vanished.
He plummeted to the earth like a dead man.
A booted foot connected with his side. Razor-sharp pain lanced his ribs, reminding him he was still alive. He struggled just to breathe.
“Reckon you broke a few ribs with that kick, Vince.” The voice came from a tall, thin silhouette in a long coat—the man who’d tried to open the jailhouse door. Accompanied by two broader shadows, the man circled him. “If not, don’t worry. We’ve got time to bust all of the deputy’s bones.”
The trio continued discussing how they’d make him hurt. He’d been a fool to let them get the jump on him. After he’d seen the one in the duster coat try to open the jailhouse door, he’d been so intent on reaching Sadie he’d rushed forward without thinking. He hadn’t seen his attackers coming.
“He ain’t always been a deputy. Not so high ’n mighty now, are you, Ballantyne?”
Recognition lifted his head. He knew this voice. His vision cleared enough to make out the cowhand named Miller who’d manhandled Sadie at the Star the day of his return. Thank God, she was locked safe inside the jail. Getting beaten in an alley he could accept. Seeing Sadie in the hands of these ruffians would’ve been more than he could take.
Miller lifted his foot.
To hell with taking anything.
He dodged the kick and seized the man’s ankle. Employing all of his weigh, he twisted sideways.
“Sonuva—!” Miller crashed to the ground, where he curled into a whimpering ball around his knee. “You—broke—my leg.”
Noah grunted. He doubted he’d be so lucky. At best, he’d torn muscle and the coward wouldn’t be able to kick someone on the ground again.
That didn’t stop one of his cohorts from snaring Noah around the neck and yanking him onto his knees. The man named Vince stepped into his line of view and drew back his fist.
“Wait.” Seething like a hornet’s nest, Miller levered himself up and hobbled toward them. Amazing what anger could do. “Get outta my way, Vince.” He shoved his friend aside and backhanded Noah across the face.
Without the force to remove him from the lanky man’s chokehold. More incentive was required. He spat in Miller’s face. The right hook that followed did the trick. Pretending he couldn’t move as he sprawled on the ground wasn’t difficult.
Shuffling footsteps neared. “Hope I shattered your friggin’ jaw.”
He lashed out with both feet and struck a pair of nearby shins. A body landed beside him, and the whimpering started again.
“My jaw’s fine.” Although the part of him in question hurt like the blazes, he was thankful it functioned well enough to let him speak. “How’s your leg?”
Miller writhed on the ground. “You’re dead,” he vowed as he fumbled to draw a revolver tucked under his belt.
Noah groped for his holster. Found it empty. The revolver Miller intended to use on him was his own.
Vince halted Miller with a hand on his arm. “The madam said we can’t kill him. Not until—”
“I don’t give a fuck what she said.” Despite his declaration, Miller released his revolver. “But you and Hank better do as I say.” He jabbed his finger at Noah. “Break his legs. Break his head. Break all of him!”
“Raise another hand, or foot, against him and you’ll lose it.” The voice, followed by the scrape of a gun being cocked, came from the direction of the jail.
From its doorway, Sadie aimed a Winchester at the closest man looming over him. The long-barreled rifle made her appear small. But her stance was rock steady as she stared down the weapon’s formidable length. Unblinking. Determined.
The sight stole the air from his lungs. “Who released you?” His voice came out no louder than a squawk.
“I did. I don’t require a key, but you may. Ev
erything you need is inside.”
“You’re not.” Gritting his teeth against the pain, he rolled onto his hands and knees. “Go back. Now.”
“We’ll go together, after they leave.”
“She—” Vince’s tone rose with disbelief, “—ain’t the one we’re meant to collect, is she?”
“See any other whores coming out of that jail,” Miller shot back.
Vince beckoned her forward. “Hand over that buffalo shooter before you hurt yourself.”
Noah pushed himself up. Getting even one foot under him left him puffing like a freight train. He paused to gather his strength.
Sadie had yet to move. “Only ones I’m gonna hurt is you and your friends.”
“Yer bluffin’.” The man named Hank edged closer to her.
Vince did the same. “Yeah, you don’t look meaner than a songbird with her feathers ruffled.”
Noah braced himself to tackle the men.
“A year ago, I nearly put a bullet in the lawman you’ve been beating. He hadn’t riled me a tenth as much as you lot.”
If the situation hadn’t been so dire, Noah might have smiled. Instead, he focused on channeling all of his energy into the impending brawl.
“Ain’t you full of vinegar.” Miller’s gaze raked her. “The madam said you was better. From where I stand, I agree. You look ready to tumble.”
“Never.” Noah surged to his feet.
Hank spun toward him, fist raised. “Time for you to go down ’n never get up.”
The gun blast roared in Noah’s ears. Then the retort ricocheted off the walls. Hank’s gangly frame folded up and sank to the ground. Blood seeped through the fingers he clutched to his shoulder.
Sadie cocked the Winchester and swung the barrel toward Vince. “Your friend should’ve heeded my warning.” Her voice was hard as flint. “You gonna gather him and Miller and leave? Or should I unload this rifle in you?”
A blur of crimson taffeta and powdered flesh jumped toward Sadie. Noah’s shout of warning turned into a howl when he glimpsed a flash of silver in the madam’s hand. Fury and disbelief and horror pummeled him in waves.
Gertie’s blade came to rest against Sadie’s throat. “Drop the rifle.”
Sadie did as told. Her hands drifted downward.
“Keep your hands up.” Gertie fished a derringer out of Sadie’s skirt and pocketed it in her own. “Even when hidden, a Double Ace creates an unmistakable outline. Or at least it does for me. But you pack of imbeciles…” She surveyed her men.
Miller lay on the ground cradling his knees. Hank had transferred a neckerchief from his throat to his shoulder wound. Vince stood unaffected as long as one didn’t count his red-faced and guilty expression.
“Blind, brainless and next to useless,” Gertie muttered. “John’s gonna answer for disappearing and making me turn to you lot.” She thrust her chin at the last man standing. “Tell me your name again.”
“Vince.”
“Well, Vince? What’re you waiting for? Show me your mettle. Pick up that rifle.”
The man scooped up the weapon.
“Shoot him,” Sadie yelled, “and I’ll see you hanged for two murders—Noah’s and Edward’s.”
Gertie breathe hissed between her teeth like she’d been the one to get shot.
The Winchester wobbled in Vince’s grasp. “I don’t know anyone named Edward.”
“But the madam does.” Sadie drew a folded paper from her other pocket. She held it up for Gertie to see. “Before Edward died, he wrote how he caught you stealing.”
Sadie’s face was unreadable, but Noah felt his eyes grow as wide as Gertie’s.
“You orchestrated a tragedy,” Sadie continued in a voice that matched her impassive expression, “that the townsfolk would gobble up—a gambler faced with the stigma of a notorious and painful death ends his own life. But for every lie you forced from him, he wrote a truth.”
“You’re the one who’s lying.” Despite the madam’s adamant tone, a frown marred her brow. “Edward’s death was a suicide. The entire town of Dodge knows that, including you. You found him.”
“I found him lying in a pool of blood,” her voice finally broke, “holding a suicide note and a pistol. He wasn’t dead. He asked me to take back what his murderer had stolen. On that account, I’ve spent months failing him until today when I found this letter in a writing set made of tortoiseshell.”
Gertie’s gaze locked on the letter, her breathing turned rough and ragged.
“You remember the set,” Sadie continued in a hushed voice. “You watched Edward use it to pen his suicide note. What you didn’t do was watch him close enough. He often remarked that the best gamblers excel at sleights of hand. Shall I read the part detailing where you planned to stash your plunder?”
Gertie continued staring at the letter. He couldn’t look away either.
Sadie’s grip on the paper tightened. “He wrote: Gertie has my father’s watch, my mother’s jewelry box. She says she’ll hide them in her piano and—”
“Enough!” The madam’s order was more of a high-pitched howl than a word. It raised the hair on the back of Noah’s neck. Gertie’s mouth opened and closed, whether searching for air or for words, he wasn’t sure.
Vince kept the Winchester on Noah, but he edged away from Gertie. “You all right, ma’am?”
“The girl’s lies die in this alley,” Gertie growled. “Shoot them both.”
“What about Marshal Masterson?” Sadie blurted.
Noah’s stomach turned hard and cold. Sadie hoped Bat was coming, that Noah had organized a fallback plan to save her. She didn’t know that when he’d left the Dodge House, Bat had said he was going for reinforcements. He wouldn’t return in time.
“Masterson can’t help you.” Gertie’s words echoed his thoughts. “When he finds you gone from his jail, he’ll hope you fled town together. He’ll never know for sure, but he—” Gertie sucked in a ragged breath. “He’s seen that letter?”
Bat hadn’t. There hadn’t been time. But the madam didn’t know that. Hopefully, she’d remain too distracted shepherding John’s replacements to realize her error.
Sadie wore her most unreadable poker face. “Bat said he’d search your piano as soon as he fetched a man named Earp to cover his back.”
So, she’d heard about Bat’s connection to Wyatt Earp. Bless her talent for shoring up lies with nuggets of truth.
It was his turn to do the same. “Better hightail it back to your saloon and rid your piano of any incriminating evidence before Bat gets there.”
Gertie cast him a withering glare before gesturing to the letter in Sadie’s hand. “I’m not leaving until that letter’s destroyed. Hand it over.”
“Let me quicken your departure.” Sadie ripped the letter into tiny pieces and tossed them in the air. They fluttered like early snow, unexpected and disconcerting. Then the wind caught them and blew them away. “Leave now and you’ve won.”
Gertie tilted her head at a contemplative angle. “Have I?”
“Without the letter and Edward’s possession, it’s my word against yours. I won’t say anything if you let us go.”
“Your yap ain’t my major concern. You were easy to control.” Gertie’s gaze cut to Noah. “Until you came along. One sure way to guarantee both your silences. The girl stays with me until I’ve put my affairs in order.”
“The hell she will,” Noah hollered.
Gertie’s glare swept her men. “Why aren’t you beating him unconscious so we, and everyone else in Dodge, can’t hear him bellowing like a bull elk in rut?”
Clutching his injured shoulder, Hank scrambled to his feet. Noah widened his stance, preparing for the man to charge.
“No!” Sadie reached for Noah. The madam’s grip on her arm kept her from going anywhere. “Isn’t it quicker to lock him in the jail?”
Astonishment made his jaw drop.
Her outstretched hand fell to her side. “You’ll find the keys on him.”
<
br /> “Sadie.” Her name left his lips like a plea. “I can’t let you go with her.”
She raised her chin. “You can. It’s for the best. You’ll understand when I’m gone.”
“You won’t be gone for long.”
“And I won’t be far.” Her voice wavered, then turned firm again. “Just across the street at the Star.”
The need to keep her by his side coiled his muscles tight. Patience, he warned himself. Now’s not the time to attack. Not with a cutthroat madam and three hired thugs hovering so close to Sadie.
“Gentleman,” Gertie addressed her men. “Disappointing though it is, I’ve decided Deputy Ballantyne must live. As the girl suggests, lock him in his own jail. Kill him and you won’t be paid. But if either of them resists—” the madam’s gaze slid to Sadie, “—you have my permission to continue her lover’s beating.”
* * *
Sadie swallowed her cry of protest. As soon as the men left Noah locked inside the jail, he’d be safe. When his focus turned from fighting to escaping, she hoped he’d once again question how she’d got out. If he searched his cell for the answer, he’d find what she’d hidden.
His glare made her heart ache with new misgivings. It might be best if he stayed in jail until Bat returned and released him. At least then Noah wouldn’t be alone when he raced into the Star in search of her.
Here she had no doubts. Noah would not abandon her. He’d come after her. She wanted to give him every advantage when he did.
All of her cards were on the table, either overturned like the last of Edward’s secrets or soon to be revealed. She’d played the letter with as much sleight of hand as she could wield. Edward would’ve applauded her all-in attitude. But all she cared about was protecting Noah.
The next moments would determine if her gamble paid off.
Vince kept the Winchester trained on Noah while Hank bent his lanky body to help Miller to his feet.
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