The cars clattered across a trestle over a dry wash, and Emily frowned as she saw several men on horseback emerge from that wash and gallop alongside the train. The locomotive was going faster than the horses could go, so the riders fell back.
As they did, one of them grinned up at the window. Emily’s eyes widened slightly as she realized the man was grinning at her. He had a lean, handsome face and expressive eyes under the brim of his hat. The long duster he wore flapped in the air behind him.
Then he was gone as the train pulled away. Emily frowned as she wondered what in the world those men had been doing, racing with the cars that way.
It wasn’t long before she found out.
A sudden thumping sound above her head made her look up. What in the world was that? The thumps went along the roof of the car from back to front and then Emily didn’t hear them anymore. They had sounded for all the world like boot heels as someone ran along on top of the car, but why would anybody do that?
“Did you hear that odd noise—” she started to ask Mrs. Pierce.
A door slammed open at the rear of the car, and a woman screamed. Emily’s head jerked around. Shock struck her almost like a physical blow as she saw two men rush into the car from the rear vestibule and brandish revolvers at the passengers. They wore dusters and had bandannas tied across the lower halves of their faces under pulled-down hat brims.
Outlaws. Train robbers. The words echoed hollowly in Emily’s brain as she struggled to grasp the obvious fact that the train was being held up.
Mrs. Pierce cried out in horror.
The closest outlaw had a gun in each hand. He pointed one of them at the woman and snapped, “Hush up that bellerin’, you ugly old biddy!”
Mrs. Pierce gasped.
Emily started to rise to her feet. She didn’t think about what she was doing. She said, “You don’t have to talk to people that way.”
The outlaw swung his gun muzzle toward Emily, who fought against the fear that gripped her. The man glared at her and said, “Sit down and shut up, you—”
The other duster-clad man moved up behind him and said sharply, “That’s enough. Leave these ladies alone.” Then his gaze moved over to Emily and he stood up straighter as he said, “Hello, darlin’. You’re a mighty pretty one, aren’t you? It’s good to see you again.”
A shock of recognition went through Emily. Even though most of the man’s face was hidden behind the bandanna, there was no mistaking those twinkling, sea-blue eyes. This outlaw was the rider who had grinned at her as he rode his horse alongside the train.
“In fact, you’re so pretty,” he went on, “I think I’m just gonna take you with me!”
Chapter 2
Nick Braddock reined his horse to a halt at the top of a shallow, rolling rise. What he saw startled an exclamation out of him.
Three hundred yards in front of him, railroad tracks ran east and west. It came as no surprise that a train was passing, heading westbound. Nick had seen the smoke from its engine a moment earlier.
What he hadn’t expected to see was a man running along the top of the train, leaping from car to car as he headed for the locomotive.
Instantly, Nick understood what was happening here. A rider trailing the train and leading several riderless horses was just confirmation.
That hombre heading for the locomotive’s cab was going to pull his gun on the engineer and fireman when he got there and force them to stop the train.
This was a hold-up, and Nick knew beyond a shadow of a doubt who was responsible for it.
That damned Clay Galloway and his gang.
Nick heeled his big sorrel into a run and took off after the train, riding at an angle in the hope that he could intercept it in time to stop the robbery. As he rode, the midday sun glinted off the badge pinned to his faded blue work shirt.
He’d been trailing Galloway for more than a week. Now the outlaw had practically fallen into his lap, and Nick wasn’t going to waste the opportunity to do his job.
There were six men in the gang. Nick knew the way they operated: two men in the caboose with their guns on the conductor and brakeman, two cleaning out the passengers before the train even came to a stop, one leading the horses, and one man in the cab. Once the train had come to a halt, the two outlaws in the caboose would knock out the brakie and force the conductor up to the express car, where they would threaten his life and force the messenger to open up.
It had worked half a dozen times already at various locations across West Texas and New Mexico Territory, and there was no reason for Clay Galloway to think that it wouldn’t work again.
Unfortunately for Galloway, he hadn’t reckoned on a Texas Ranger catching up to them just in time to thwart this robbery.
Nick hoped that was how the hand played out, anyway. As he raced toward the train, he reminded himself that the odds were still pretty high against him.
The outlaw heading for the cab had reached the coal tender by now. The engineer and fireman probably weren’t even aware of his presence. With the roar of the engine, they wouldn’t hear anything. The engineer would have his eyes on the track ahead. The fireman might look back and notice the approaching owlhoot, but it was unlikely.
Nick swept closer. The sorrel was fast and it was running flat-out now. The outlaw must have caught sight of Nick from the corner of his eye as he clambered over the coal. He stopped, crouched, and reached under his duster.
Nick knew the man was reaching for a gun. He had the sorrel’s reins in his left hand so his right was free to draw the Colt on his hip. The range was a little long for a handgun, but the gap was closing with every second that passed. Nick saw flame spurt from the outlaw’s gun as it swung toward him.
The bullet kicked up dirt ahead and to the right of the sorrel. Nick fired, aiming high so the slug would carry farther. He saw a chunk of coal leap into the air as his shot hit it.
The outlaw squeezed off another shot. This time the bullet struck closer. The fella was getting within range.
Nick triggered his second shot.
In any running gun battle like this, luck played a huge part. Today it was on the side of law and order. The outlaw perched atop the coal tender flung his arms wide, twisted around, and toppled onto the black pile. He rolled over a couple of times and fell off the car, landing beside the tracks and bouncing limply before coming to rest in a sprawl.
At least he hadn’t fallen under the wheels, Nick thought. That would have been pretty gruesome.
Even over the engine’s roar, the engineer and fireman had heard the shots. They stared at Nick from the cab as he drew alongside. He holstered his gun and waved for them to keep the train going, and the engineer nodded in understanding.
Nick fell back until the front of the first passenger car drew alongside him. He leaned over, got a firm grip with his left hand on the grab iron mounted on the car, and kicked his feet out of the stirrups. As he swung out of the saddle, the now-riderless sorrel peeled away from the train.
Nick got a foot on the platform, his other hand on the railing, and pulled himself up to safety. A sort of safety, anyway, he amended, since he didn’t know what he was going to find inside the car.
But there was only one way to find out, so he drew his gun again, threw the door to the vestibule open, and went in fast, ready for trouble.
* * *
“I’m not going anywhere with you, sir,” Emily said coldly as she stared at the blue-eyed outlaw. She hoped her stiff posture and angry glare hid how scared she was. Her father had fought outlaws and rustlers and Comanches in his time, but Emily had never even had a gun waved in her general direction before.
The other train robber guffawed and said, “She called you sir. You hear that, Clay?”
Emily expected the other man to be angry that his companion had given away his name, but if that fact bothered him he gave no sign of it. Instead he laughed, too, and said, “I guess she doesn’t know me very well.” He paused, then added, “But she will.”
The first outlaw brandished his guns around again and said in a loud, harsh voice, “All right, everybody ante up! Wallets, handbags, purses, rings, watches, anything valuable goes in the sack!”
The outlaw called Clay had taken a canvas sack from under his duster and now held it out. He shook it at Mrs. Pierce and said, “We’ll start with you, ma’am. Let’s have your bag and all the jewelry you’ve got.”
“You...you thief!” the elderly woman said.
“Thought all day to come up with that one, didn’t you?” Clay mocked. “Let’s have it.”
Mrs. Pierce put her handbag in the sack, along with a broach she wore. She started to take her rings off, then hesitated and said, “My late husband gave me these.”
“Well, if he’s not with us anymore, it won’t bother him for you to give them up, will it? Let’s go. Time’s a-wasting here.”
When Mrs. Pierce still didn’t remove her rings, the other outlaw cursed so vilely that Emily felt her ears turn hot and red. The man jammed his left-hand Colt back in its holster and reached for Mrs. Pierce’s hand.
“Gimme those,” he growled.
The old woman wailed in fear, a pathetic sound that was cut short when her eyes suddenly rolled up in their sockets and she slumped sideways in the bench seat toward the window. That was where Emily was standing, so she was able to catch her.
“Take those rings off her and hand ’em over,” the outlaw ordered. Meanwhile, Clay had turned and was collecting valuables from some of the other passengers, menacing them with the gun in the hand that wasn’t holding the bag.
“Can’t you leave her alone?” Emily said. “Have you no decency at all?”
“You’re a mouthy little girl,” the outlaw said. He drew back his free hand. “I oughta—”
“That’s enough,” Clay said, and once again Emily heard an unmistakable tone of command in his voice. “We don’t beat up women.”
The first outlaw made a rumbling sound deep in his throat, like an angry dog, but he lowered his hand.
“Whatever you’ve got that’s worth anything, let’s have it,” he snapped at Emily.
She wasn’t wearing any jewelry except a necklace her mother had given her. It had some sentimental value, but that was all. She gave it to the outlaw, along with her coin purse.
“That’s it?” he demanded.
Emily sat down next to Mrs. Pierce and slipped an arm around the unconscious woman’s shoulders. She nodded and said, “That’s it.”
Even with a bandanna over the man’s face, Emily could tell that he grimaced. He turned away and gave the loot he had collected to Clay.
The two bandits went quickly through the car, stripping the passengers of anything valuable. Then Clay said worriedly, “The train ought to be slowing down by now. Something may have gone wrong. I think we should forget about the other passenger cars.”
“What about the express car?” his partner asked.
Clay didn’t answer the question directly. Instead he said, “Let’s head back to the caboose and check with the others.” They started to turn away, but he paused, looked at Emily, and said, “I wasn’t joking earlier. You’re coming with me, sweetheart.”
She felt her eyes widening in shock. She started shaking her head and leaning away from him.
“No,” she said. “No, I won’t—”
“Come on.” He pulled his mask down, maybe figuring it didn’t really matter since she had already seen his face. He grinned at her as he said, “Give me a chance. You won’t regret it.”
He held out his empty hand to her. Abruptly, against her own better judgment, Emily felt a crazy urge to take it. She had never done anything exciting or daring in her life, and this blue-eyed outlaw was undeniably handsome. Plus, for a bandit, he had acted halfway like a gentleman—
Then she realized how insane it was to be thinking these things, and she cried, “No!”
He reached for her anyway and said again, “You’re coming with me.”
She was ready to fight him, but she didn’t think she could put up much of a struggle against two armed outlaws.
She didn’t have to. At that moment the door at the front of the car burst open, and while the sound was still echoing a deep voice thundered, “Get away from that woman, Galloway!”
Chapter 3
The train had three passenger cars. Nick had raced through the first two without running into any outlaws. It was different when Nick entered the third car. Instantly he spotted the two duster-clad men in the aisle. One of them had lowered his mask and was reaching for a female passenger. Nick recognized the outlaw and shouted, “Get away from that woman, Galloway!”
Clay Galloway’s head jerked toward Nick. The recognition was mutual. Nick saw as well that Galloway wasn’t holding a gun. He had a canvas bag that was probably full of loot in his left hand, and his right was extended toward the frightened young woman.
As Nick leveled his Colt, he saw the faintest hint of a smile flicker across Galloway’s face. Long odds had never fazed the man. Instead of going for his gun, he did the unexpected.
He lunged toward the passenger, grabbed her arm, and dragged her into the aisle with him. Nick bit back a curse and held his fire.
“Looks like a stalemate, Braddock,” Galloway said in his maddeningly arrogant drawl.
The other outlaw didn’t think so. He yelled, “Get down, Clay! I’ll drill the Ranger!”
Galloway dived to the floor, dragging his hostage with him.
Screams filled the air as the other outlaw triggered both of his revolvers. Nick had already dropped to one knee. He heard the high-pitched whine of the slugs as they passed through the air near his head. He put his free hand on the floor to steady himself. The car was really swaying now as the engineer poured on the speed.
Nick’s gun blasted before the outlaw at the other end of the car could fire again. The man grunted and reeled backward onto the platform. Nick knew he had hit his target. The wounded outlaw struck the railing around the platform, flipped up and over it, screamed...
Nick’s eyes narrowed grimly as that scream ended like it had been cut off with a knife.
Clay Galloway came to his feet and hauled the young woman up with him. Nick still couldn’t risk a shot as Galloway backed toward the platform.
The outlaw reached the vestibule and retreated through it. Nick stalked after him and called, “Let her go, Galloway. I never knew you to hide behind a woman before.”
“Sorry, Nick. I don’t feel like getting arrested.”
“You’re gonna get her killed,” Nick said. “Is that what you want?”
“Of course not. I’d much rather kiss her. But I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible today.”
Galloway was on the platform now. He let go of his hostage and shoved her back into the doorway. Nick seethed, knowing that she was still in the line of fire.
By the time she had the presence of mind to drop to the floor, Galloway was disappearing through the door of the caboose. Nick tried a shot, but his bullet just chewed splinters from the door jamb.
The woman was blocking the aisle. Nick couldn’t jump over her, and he wasn’t going to trample her. Instead he reached down and took hold of her arm, much like Galloway had. He tried not to be too rough about it as he lifted her to her feet.
His breath hissed sharply in his nostrils as he felt the warmth of her upper arm through her sleeve. She lifted her head, looked at him with green eyes that seemed huge and compelling at the moment. She had lost her hat, and thick masses of wavy brown hair tumbled around her face and over her shoulders.
Nick knew he should be getting after Galloway, but for a couple of heartbeats that seemed longer, he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her. The smooth curve of her cheek with its golden tan, the dark, finely arched eyebrows, the delicate lashes shielding those incredible eyes, the full-lipped, generous mout
h under a straight nose...All of it combined together in a beauty that struck Nick with surprising force and made his heart leap as if a team of runaway horses were bearing down on him.
He wished he didn’t have an outlaw to catch.
He couldn’t just ignore his duty, though, so he moved her aside, said, “Excuse me, ma’am,” and hurried past her.
His long legs carried him easily over the gap between the last passenger car and the caboose. He hadn’t heard any shooting from in there, so he hoped the conductor and the brakeman were all right. With his foot, he nudged the door open and went inside in a rush, gun leveled.
“Hold your fire, mister,” a man’s voice said. “They’re gone.”
Nick straightened from his instinctive crouch. He saw the blue-uniformed conductor standing in front of the desk, holding a bloody rag to the head of a man whose work clothes identified him as the brakeman.
“What happened?” Nick asked.
“One of the varmints clouted Herman here with a revolver,” the conductor explained. “The sight opened up a pretty good cut, but I think he’s going to be all right.”
“Ja,” the brakie said in a German accent. “The verdammt owlhoot!”
“One of the others ran back in and told the two they’d left here that they’d all better hightail it. They jumped off the rear platform. I don’t know if they were on foot—”
“They weren’t,” Nick said. “One of them was riding behind the train with their horses. I reckon he caught up to those three pretty quick.”
“I don’t know where they came from. I keep a pretty close eye out for trouble.”
“This bunch is crafty. I’ve been on their trail for a while. They’ve pulled half a dozen holdups before this.”
“You know who they are, then.”
Nick nodded and said heavily, “I know.” He paused, then added, “What I didn’t expect was that he’d try to pull a job like this so close to home.”
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