Her Rocky Trail_Seeing Ranch series

by Florence Linnington

  “All right. Fine.”

  Pulling a gold pocket watch from inside his vest, the man handed it over.

  “Very good,” the outlaw cooed. He stepped to his left, eyeing the woman standing there. “Purse,” he barked.

  On it went, with one bandit collecting while the other kept an eye on everyone else, probably ensuring no passenger made a move to escape. Kitty’s eyes traveled to the door to the back car, and her mind spun. Was Helen all right? She had to be absolutely terrified.

  Sharp pain pricked Kitty’s palms as her nails dug into the skin there. She shouldn’t have left her sister alone. What had she been thinking?

  “You.”

  Kitty jerked at the voice. The outlaw had arrived at her without her noticing.

  “Turn your purse over,” he said.

  Kitty slowly shook her head. “I do not have it on me.”

  His eyes narrowed. “What? You didn’t bring a purse? You traveling without a dime on you.”

  His gaze went lower, raking over her body as he checked out her form to see if she had anything hidden. Heat filled Kitty’s cheeks, and her hand itched to slap him. Never in all her years had a man so brazenly laid his eyes on her.

  This was no ordinary citizen, though, she reminded herself. If the beast in front of her was vile enough to stop a train and rob innocent people, surely he had no qualms about doing anything else.

  Kitty stared him down, doing her best to look fierce despite the pounding of her heart. Do not show your weakness. That is what she’d learned from years as a maid. Many a person had thought they could break her but little did they know she’d already been through worse than anything they could subject her to.

  She kept her chin lifted, and the outlaw did the same, peering down at her from the top of his nose. “You got a name?”

  Kitty unclenched her chattering teeth. She yearned to use one of the many vile words she’d heard men spit on the streets, to tell him, in not a nice way, that her name was none of his concern.

  “Katherine,” she whispered instead, finding a bit of comfort in hiding the nickname her mother had given her.

  “Hm. Katherine. That’s pretty bland now.”

  “I am a fairly bland woman, sir.”

  “Where’s your purse?” he threw back.

  Kitty reminded herself to keep breathing. “As I already told you, I do not have it on me. I left it in my seat in another car.”

  “Which car?”

  Kitty felt her hands twitch. The purse was in a car behind them, past where Helen sat. She could not send this animal in the direction of her sister.

  “Which car?” he repeated.

  When a couple seconds passed without her answer, he grabbed Kitty’s forearm. A few women gasped.

  “Let her go!” a man demanded.

  The train robber kept his steely eyes on Kitty, his sharp nails pinching her skin even through her cotton dress and jacket. “I know if you’re not telling me that means there’s something nice in that purse. Lookie here, girlie. I won’t ask you one more time.”

  Kitty worked to dislodge her tongue from the roof of her mouth. Before she could lie and tell him the purse was in a car closer to the front of the train, a muffled gunshot interrupted her.

  The outlaw’s eyebrow twitched, and his grip on Kitty loosened.

  “You hear that?” his comrade asked.

  Another shot sounded, this one making the car murmur and gasp in fear. The man holding Kitty’s arm tossed it like he was throwing it down. Kitty quickly stepped back, resisting the urge to rub the sore spot his fingers had created.

  “Let’s go,” the outlaw spat over his shoulder, not sparing Kitty another look as the two of them departed through the rear.

  Half of the passengers sighed in relief. “Perhaps they are leaving.”

  “Why would they do this? They took my mother’s ring!”

  “It’s best we move to the front of the train, to where the conductor is.”

  “If he’s even alive!”

  Kitty pushed against the flow of bodies moving for the front, her eyes set on the door the outlaws had gone through.

  “Where are you going?” a man asked, stepping right in front of her. “You can’t go that way.”

  “I have to. My sister is back there.” Kitty surreptitiously scouted the area around the man, ready to run for it should he try to stop her progression.

  “Lord,” he sighed seeing her fierce determination. “Be careful.”

  She knew that was hardly possible in such a situation, but she nodded in acknowledgment regardless and continued on.

  As she passed through the train, people scrambled about, fear and shock on their faces. Most of them pressed forward, going in the opposite direction Kitty was. The robbers were nowhere to be seen, but shots could still be heard near the back of the train. Whoever had arrived to assist was relentless, and Kitty offered up a silent thank you for their presence.

  “Kitty!”

  Helen rushed toward her, arms outstretched and eyes wide. Kitty drew her sister into her arms, inhaling the scent of her hair and quietly thanking God for the second time in one minute.

  “Where were you?” Helen frantically asked, her hands clasping Kitty’s.

  “I can’t explain right now. We need to get out of there.”

  Helen shook her head. “There is nowhere to go.”

  Kitty’s mind ran faster than the train’s wheels ever could. There were few options, and if she did not choose the correct one, they might soon be dead.

  The back of the train. The front. Outside…

  She looked out the window and spotted a copse of trees not far off. Only twenty seconds would be needed to dart to it. If they stayed on the train, like everyone else was choosing to do, Kitty feared they would be a direct target for whatever came next.

  “This way.”

  “But Mr. Guthrie...”

  “Where is he?” Kitty asked, leading Helen back to the door she’d come through.

  “He went back that way. Where the shots are coming from. Kitty, we have to go back!”

  Helen pulled one way, and Kitty tugged the other. “Helen, we cannot! We must leave! If we get outside, we can hide.”

  “No! He—”

  “He can take care of himself,” Kitty angrily spat. “Now, let us go!”

  “One second. I just need to see.”

  Helen pulled her wrist up, breaking Kitty’s hold on it, and sprung for the door. Kitty rushed after her, but Helen had already gone into the next car. The door behind Kitty opened and, as she made to follow Helen, someone grabbed the fabric of her dress.

  “Come this way, young miss” It was bowler-hat man.

  Kitty spun around, pulling her dress from his grasp. “My sister! She went that way.”

  His nervous eyes looked over Kitty’s shoulder. The shooting had stopped for the time being. Kitty held her breath, ready to stomp on the man’s foot should he try and prevent her from following Helen.

  “Yes,” he said, face pale. “We must get her.”

  Kitty had not even time to sigh in relief before screams were heard. Unlike the original yell when the train stopped, this one was very familiar.

  Helen!

  With the world blurring all around her and a speed she hadn’t known she possessed pushing her forward, Kitty ran from the car and into the next one. It was the caboose she ended up in, a dirty area filled with barrels, crates, and stacked bags. The very back door was open, and Kitty rushed to it, hitting the outside railing with a force that knocked the air from her.

  The screams had stopped. In the grass behind the train, two men kneeled, their guns out but no longer shooting. Instead, they just watched the group of riders escape across the valley. Men. Maybe ten or twelve of them. Plus one woman, her blue dress whipping against a horse—the blue dress Kitty would recognize anywhere. She’d sewed it herself, a traveling gown to match the brown and green plaid one she wore.

  It was Helen on that horse, and she wa
s gone.

  Chapter Four

  4. Cyrus

  Chapter four

  Curses escaped through Cyrus’ clenched teeth as the train robbers rode away, leaving with all the spoils the day had to offer, including a frightened young woman. His fingers curled tight around his pistol, and he straightened up, his pulse pounding with a fury.

  “We’ll have to go after them,” the man next to him said.

  Cyrus took a moment to inspect the man for the first time. Thick, gray beard. Worn-in clothes. Guns that shone and lived in holsters hidden under his coat. He’d appeared out of nowhere, an angel come to help. Together, they’d taken out more than a half dozen of the train robbers. Still, most of them had escaped.

  Cyrus tersely nodded. “Gather any men willing to go.” Another thought occurred to him. “Horses.”

  They couldn’t ride out until they had some more. Cyrus’ own thoroughbred had run for its life once the shooting started, and no one on the train had any either.

  “We’ll chase down the dead men’s.”

  Cyrus nodded, quickly calculating. His horse plus the eight dead bandits’ horses made nine—supposing they found them all. Even if they did gather all the horses, the robbers and their captive would be miles away by then. Each step they gained meant lost time for Cyrus, less of a chance of that young woman being retrieved.

  “Helen,” someone cried from behind Cyrus.

  He spun around to find two people standing at the caboose’s railing. A man in a bowler hat and a beautiful, dark-haired woman. For a second, the danger of the moment vanished. All Cyrus saw were the loose curls falling down the girl’s neck, the flushed cheeks, and wide eyes… and her despair.

  Cyrus blinked, attempting to get his senses straight. The girl looked so much like the one who had just been taken, but there was something different about her. Her jaw was more defined, her eyes more intense…

  Without warning, she turned to face him. Her eyes caught him, and the pain in those brown irises made his knees shake.

  “They took her,” she gasped.

  Cyrus’ throat constricted. Those eyes were too much, tearing at his gut. Quickly, he looked away.

  “Find any men who can ride out,” he told the fellow who’d helped him shoot.

  “What can I do?” the man next to the railing asked. Cyrus had almost forgotten about him. He inspected the well-dressed man for a moment. He looked as if this was his first time outside of the city. Who was he? The husband of the distraught woman next to him?

  “Send someone to Pathways,” Cyrus instructed. “We’ll need as much help as we can get. And tell the conductor about what’s happened. If he’s still alive.” He shot a glance at the trembling woman, who clutched the railing like her life depended on it. “I’ll gather the horses.”

  The men nodded, and both of them went back into the train. It seemed Cyrus had become the unquestioned leader in the situation, which was just fine with him. He didn’t care who took charge, as long as everyone played a part and everything necessary got done.

  Turning, he surveyed the landscape. The bandits had slipped into a valley somewhere between two mountains. Likely, they had a specific destination in mind. Tracking them would be no easy feat. If Cyrus got lucky, someone in his rag-tag posse would know the landscape well.

  “My sister.”

  The skin on Cyrus’ arms jumped. The dark-haired girl appeared in front of him. More of her hair had come loose, and a few tears rolled down her cheeks. An odd desire to pull her into his arms filled Cyrus.

  “They took my sister,” she murmured again.

  “I know.” He calmly nodded. The girl was in shock and needed proper care. “We’re going to try and get her back. Now you go on inside the train. Some of the ladies will take care of you.”

  Cyrus stepped forward, but the girl blocked him again. “She’s only seventeen. I need to come with you.”

  Despite the serious moment, a guffaw burst from Cyrus. “No,” he sharply answered.

  He took another step, and again she blocked him. She was so small he could pick her up and set her to the side with one hand if he wanted to. But, he knew the trouble that could come with putting his hands on a woman. Especially, in that kind of way.

  “I can ride.”

  “Do you see any horses?” Cyrus barked. He’d had enough with her. She was wasting precious time. Stepping around her, he stalked in the direction his thoroughbred had gone. If he got lucky, all the horses would be congregating together.

  Her footsteps hit the ground close behind him. “I know some got away. I will help you find them. If there are any left, then—”

  Cyrus glared at her as she walked next to him. Normally it was hard to give that kind of beauty a sour eye, but her petulance made it easier.

  “You want to help your sister?”

  “Of course!”

  He stopped walking and turned to face her straight-on. “Then stay out of my way. I know what I’m doing here, and you’re just an excited kid who’s gonna get in the way. If you want to see your sister again, you’ll do as I say.”

  She blanched. Cyrus didn’t stay to see what she would do next. He’d spotted three horses in the distance, grazing together at the foot of a hill. Slowing down his walk, he debated the best direction to approach them from. If they were still anxious over the gunshots, one wrong move could send them running.

  “How do I know you have the necessary experience?” The girl’s voice shook with emotion. “I have only just met you.”

  Cyrus ground his teeth together. “Can you stop yammering for one minute?” he harshly whispered. “The horses are right over there, and you’re liable to scare them away.”

  “Oh.”

  They stayed still, watching the horses for a long moment. Deciding trickery was the best game, Cyrus yanked a tuft of long, green grass from the earth and approached the horses.

  “That’s no different from what they’re eating,” the girl dubiously said.

  “They don’t know that.”

  Cyrus took another few steps, and the tan horse looked over in interest, its ears twitching. He held out the grass, and she took the bait, coming forward to retrieve what she believed to be a special treat.

  “It worked,” the brunette uttered in disbelief.

  Cyrus’ lips curled upward. He couldn’t help the bit of pride rising in his chest. “Course it worked. Stay where you are. Don’t move.”

  One by one, he gathered the three horses, bringing them back to the girl. “Can you hold these reins?”

  She hesitated. “Yes.”

  “Don’t let them go. We still have six more to find.”

  They worked silently, taking the three horses back to the train and tying them up before going off in search of the rest of them. With the girl finally quiet, she proved to be of some help. With two hands, she could lead horses. It was better than nothing.

  Though she was quiet, Cyrus could feel the despair wafting off of her. He wanted to say something to make her feel better but knew there were no right words.

  “What are they going to do to her?” she finally asked, after they’d found two more horses and were still searching.

  Cyrus spotted an area where the ground sloped down to a spot covered with trees. A creek. “Come on. The others might be done there.”

  “You did not answer me.”

  Sighing, he looked over at her. “I don’t know. Use your imagination.”

  All the blood drained from her face. Blasted, he was always saying the wrong thing around women.

  “Look.” Cyrus planted his hands on his hips and turned to face her. “It could be they’re thinking of holding her for ransom. All right? It’s likely she’s safe right now, and hasn’t had a hair on her head touched.”

  She bit her lower lip and nodded.

  “Good.” Cyrus cleared her throat. “Let’s go find these horses.”

  Just as he expected, two of them were down by the creek, cooling off in the shade of some cottonw
oods. As Cyrus approached, they took note of him in interest but made no attempt to run.

  “That’s eight,” he counted out loud. He’d found all the horses except for his own thoroughbred. It would have to do.

  The girl was quiet as they walked up the creek bed. She struggled a bit against the incline, and Cyrus wanted to put an arm out to help her but held back. Both because he had reins in his hands… and for other reasons he didn’t care to think about.