Trace nodded to Nick, and the two began backing away to regroup. As they inched into the dense bushes beyond, Gen followed reluctantly, but lingering in the rear allowed her keen ears to pick up the commanding voice of the trail master.
“Clean up this mess. Then let’s eat before we head to the crossroads for part two of this deal.” He cussed. “Any of you women know how to cook?” he yelled to the group who peeked out from behind the canvas of a wagon. “I’m starving and this new boss ain’t going to put up with your bellyaching anymore.”
It appeared the saloon women had served their purpose and the three escapees had been temporarily forgotten in the greed of the three men left standing. She hurried to catch up to Trace and Nick.
“What now?” asked Nick, when they gathered out of sight and hearing range of the camp. “I vote we go and snatch Andrea.”
“They won’t hurt her – not yet,” said Trace. “Wish we knew where the meeting place was so we could wrap up this mess with a tidy bow before we deliver Mr. Friskin’s package home.”
Gen moved in beside them. “The crossroads. We passed that yesterday, didn’t we?”
“How do you know?” asked Trace.
“If you’d stuck around one minute longer, you’d have heard the braggart say so.” When she saw disappointment etch Trace’s face at her trumping his card again, she added, “I give credit to this cumbersome dress. Can’t move as quick as you two.”
“Suppose then we’ll head over there and wait for whoever shows up with the money to make the trade,” said Trace. “We’ll intervene, and have the girl home before nightfall. Case closed.”
“So, the trail master was hired by this Terrance fella for the kidnapping of Andrea Friskin, then killed the man to claim the ransom for himself,” said Nick. “Greedy sort, isn’t he?”
“Lots of his kind around. But there’s a second part to his plan. He inferred this was a double cross,” said Trace. “Be interested to see who shows up at the Crossroads.”
Gen gathered the guns from the men they’d hidden in the bush while Trace and Nick returned to the corral to borrow a few horses. It was too far to walk and they couldn’t risk arriving late for the meeting. She let out a nervous breath when the men returned with the mounts, glad to see them back safely.
“Let’s ride, team,” said Nick rather proud to be actively working with the Pinkerton detectives. “I might just join up with the Agency when we get back. This is pretty exciting, and keeps a man on the straight and narrow.”
“What about Andrea? A new prospect for husband has recently opened up,” said Gen.
“Finished begging the girl,” he said. “Besides, she’s not the prize I thought. Rather pampered and finicky even for my tastes. Can’t even make a decent cup of joe.”
“Funny how a man’s priorities change when stuck with a female for a length of time,” said Gen.
“Not funny at all,” said Trace and she couldn’t figure if that was a positive or negative statement. But she definitely knew it was aimed in her direction.
They’d also been stuck together for this adventure and character revealed under pressure was a good indicator of a person’s worth. It pained her to think he might be disappointed. Continued employment with the Pinkerton Detective Agency was part of it, but her heart knew that was not what she feared. She did not want to be rejected by her husband, Trace Stapleton.
A couple hours later, they watched as Frezner tied Andrea to a lone tree growing from an upper plateau, one seen clearly from a distance but probably too far for her to overhear conversation. They gagged her with a checkered neck scarf. The girl’s eyes rounded with fear as she glanced over the nearby ledge that dropped steeply to the ground below. Gen tapped Trace on the shoulder.
“I want to sneak in behind her – to assure her we are here and it will soon be over.”
“Let her fret a while longer. Might take some starch out of her. Don’t want her to give us grief about taking her home later,” said Trace. Gen smiled weakly and held back. She’d let him take the lead in this last leg of the case.
The trail master and two of his original hired men led their horses down the rocky slope. From a distance, Gen spotted a cloud of dust in the air from three riders approaching the crossroads at a rapid speed.
She nudged Trace and pointed. “Our meeting is about to begin.”
“Will you wait here, Gen? I’ll bring Nick down for this round.” Seeing the deep concern on his face, she wilted and nodded. “I’ll watch from here. If you need help, signal.” She watched relief flood his face. Compromise wasn’t such a bad thing.
He took off his hat and waved it in the air. “This a good enough signal?”
“Perfect.”
Gen watched Trace and Nick descend the forested side of the hill, keeping to the bushes to remain unseen. They arrived at the bottom about the same time as the men from Denver entered the crossroads. The wagon train bandits stepped out to make the switch. Money for the girl.
Gen didn’t recognize any of the newcomers from her wanderings around Denver, but she didn’t hang out with the three-piece suit types very often. And the leader, with the wavy, blonde hair and mesmerizing blue eyes screamed money and prestige. What started as a peaceable conversation between the two sides slowly turned sour. Zack Scott showed a level of impatience that had his two sidekicks tapping their fingers on the handle of their trusty guns.
Eyes lifted to the plateau where Andrea stood tied in full view. The aristocrat novice weakened in the middle of the sleazy deal, and the scoundrels appeared to be taking advantage of his greenhorn efforts to make the trade. She glanced at Trace and noticed him waving his hat and pointing to Andrea. What did he want her to do? When the shoving began, Gen hurried to close the distance between her and the captive woman.
At the birch tree, Gen snuck in behind the woman who sobbed quietly. “Quiet now, Andrea. You need to be brave.” She fumbled with the knots that bound the frightened girl, and when she groaned loudly in protest, Gen yanked the rope tighter. “I said, quiet. It’s a tough knot and they are watching you from below. Play the captive role and maybe we’ll get you out of here before the guns start firing.”
The last knot loosened just as the fight broke out. Trace dove for the novice’s knees and toppled him just in time to avoid being shot from the bullet discharged from Zack’s pistol. Andrea ripped the gag from her mouth and exhaled loudly.
“It’s Stanley! My father actually sent the man who wants to marry me.”
“The miracle is that he came, Andrea. Maybe you should consider that act of dedication instead of fighting your destiny. Ever think maybe the man is trustworthy and that’s why your father sent him with the ransom money?”
“Stanley does look rather out of place down there, doesn’t he?” A heavy sigh escaped her. “I certainly failed in my choice of marriage partner. Perhaps it’s time to bow to their horrid, chauvinistic practices and accept my fate.”
“Happiness comes in many forms, Andrea. Tell the man what you expect from life and see if he bites. He must love you to come out here and face the enemy on his turf.”
“He loves the position that my father and his connections will do for him,” said Andrea. “But in all fairness, I should give him a chance. As much as I care for your brother, I could never marry a man of no means. I’ve come to grips with that selfish truth. With no skills to work within a household, I’d be useless to a commoner. I require maids and Stanley will be able to provide as many as I need.”
Gen almost said aloud that a lifetime of pampering was a poor reason to marry a man, but then remembered her own state of affairs. Desperation for new beginnings had factored her choice. Seemed both satisfied an emotional and practical void. But if she could fall in love with Trace, perhaps Andrea could fall in love with Stanley. Saying the words, if only in her head, settled the matter in her heart. She’d do whatever it took to stay married to Trace Stapleton.
The next shot thundered in her ears, and she looked to
ward the free-for-all happening below in time to see Trace collapse on the ground. He lay still and a new strength soared within her.
“Stay low until I get back,” she yelled over her shoulder as she hurried downward.
Her eyes never left the still figure laying in the dirt. As she rounded the corner, she encountered Frezner, his firearm aimed at one of the Denver men. The greenhorn stood frozen; eyes rounded in full terror as he anticipated his life coming to an abrupt end. Gen caused a distraction. Vicious, steely eyes turned to her. They stood a mere three feet apart. She cast him a warning scowl and watched as he chose to ignore it and his arm pivoted to level the barrel of his gun in her direction. Gen proved faster. Raising her pistol, she aimed and shot before the man had time to blink away his condescending grin. He tumbled to the ground. For a brief second she gazed on the first man she’d ever killed. The world around her silenced and she lifted her eyes to see Nick move in beside her.
“Bullseye, sis.” he said quietly “Best go see to your man. I’ll clean up here.”
Gen raced to Trace’s side, his motionless body causing endless grief to her soul. She couldn’t lose him on their first case together – correction – not ever. She dropped to her knees and touched his cheek gently, brushing a clump from his dirt-smeared face before noticing his scrunched brows. He was in pain, but he was alive. With new hope, she scanned his frame for blood. She found where the bullet had gone clear through the flesh in his leg. Gazing at his features again, she wondered at his unconsciousness. This leg injury was not life-threatening. Then she noticed the blood oozing from under his head and the cursed rock he’d fallen on. “Dear God,” she prayed. Men died from hits on the head. She ripped a piece of clean material from her dress and wrapped the strip around his wound. When he groaned and opened his eyes, her heart slowed its thunderous beat.
“Trace,” her voice cracked. “Talk to me, Trace.”
“You’re beautiful.”
She smiled. “Your eyes are not focusing properly or you’d know I am a dirty, blood-spattered mess.”
“A beautiful mess.” He closed his eyes and moaned. “I have a headache.”
“You hit your head on a rock and got shot in the leg.”
“Leg doesn’t hurt much.”
“A flesh wound. Appears you dodged the bullet well but missed seeing the rock on your way down.”
“Did we win?”
Gen surveyed the battle scene. Scores of men lay motionless on the ground. It appeared Andrea had not listened to her command to sit tight, and had followed Gen down the slope. She cradled Stanley’s head on her lap, but the man was awake and they were talking. Nick stood off to the side watching them, but not with jealousy. His face took on a new maturity that suited him. She rested her eyes back on Trace.
“It appears we did. Let me clean up this wound. I’ll go find my canteen.” He rested a hand on her arm. “Don’t leave.”
“But…” His hand squeezed to silence her resistance. She allowed herself to be read like an open book. She wanted Trace to see the love that bubbled inside her like a giddy schoolgirl.
“Thanks for staying clear of the trouble.”
Her brows arched and she bit her lip. “About that…” Trace’s brows knit together when her defiance sunk in. She hurried to explain. “I stayed on the plateau with Andrea close to the bitter end – honest I did. But then you were shot and I couldn’t stay clear a second longer.” When his glare never softened, she added, “You are my partner. We’re sworn to look after one another.”
His intense eyes bore through her, running down to the core of her being, uncovering the secrets of her heart. “It appears I am your husband first. I want to grow old with you, Mrs. Stapleton. Do you have any objections?”
Gen bent over and kissed his lips. She withdrew slightly, but remained inches from his face. “There will be guidelines to discuss, Mr. Stapleton. I am not willing to give up traveling the countryside with you, solving crimes and rescuing damsels in distress.”
“I think we can come to agreeable terms,” said Trace. “You appear to have come out of this ordeal unscathed.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, sir. Cupid has shot an arrow clear through my heart and I will never be the same.”
“I think I can handle that injury.” With his hand he pushed her head down and shared a kiss typical of a husband and wife in love.
Chapter 12
Three days later, Gen and Trace sat in the office of Archie Gordon at the Pinkerton Detective Agency. He closed the file in front of him and grinned.
“Congratulations, team Stapleton. All the loose ends have been tied up satisfactorily. Appears the industrious trail master decided to play both ends of the scam and take all the loot. Initially, he was well paid by the scamp Terrance to kidnap Andrea. You saw the gent gunned down at the camp, which freed him to scoop the ransom money from the delivery boy.” He chortled. “He didn’t stop there. A bonus sum was in the offering from Andrea’s beau. He’d hired the trail master to kill the man Andrea seemed determined to marry.”
“And you heard all this from?” asked Trace.
“The only man left standing. Nick had him tied to a tree, ripe for picking when the sheriff arrived.”
“Nick turned out to be a good man.”
“Yes, and Mr. Friskin has been more than generous to all of you. Not only did you return his daughter in a more agreeable frame of mind, but you, Mrs. Stapleton, saved his future son-in-law’s life. Of course, Stanley’s scheme to rid the family of Terrance was appreciated by the father and they’ve decided Andrea will never be any the wiser regarding that minor detail.”
“Probably a good idea,” said Trace. “She can be a fire-keg of emotion ready to ignite at a minute’s notice.”
“What about the baby?” asked Gen.
“Returned unharmed to the family from which he was stolen. They are ecstatic and the saloon girls were glad to be rid of the little-squawker.”
“The Friskin’s have shown their gratitude in a most tangible way – a bonus.” He passed an envelope to Trace. “You did a fine job with your trainee, Mr. Stapleton. Will you continue with her?”
“The question is, will she continue with me?” He grinned at his wife. “Despite her inexperience, she proved invaluable on the field. I am more than satisfied.”
Archie turned his attention back to Gen. “And are you equally satisfied with the arrangement and ready to continue in our service?”
She shook her head slowly and landed her gaze on Trace. “Not entirely, sir.” Gen watched her husband grow tense and could not help but enjoy the tease. It was becoming the trademark of their relationship and kept them both on their toes. After a brief pause, she continued “You see, my husband promised me a honeymoon, and all I received was a dirty wagon ride with nasty people. I believe we will require some time off to recover and get things started off on the right foot between us.”
“Is that all?” laughed Archie. “I think we can swing that.”
Everyone stood to their feet. Trace reached over the desk and shook the hand of his boss. “Let’s say one month. We will return for our next assignment, eager and ready to tackle the chaotic world of crime.”
And that’s the way it happened. Gen finally got her wish to see Kansas City and her husband doted on her hand and foot, with shopping and hiking during the day, the best of dining and theatre experiences filling the evenings, and the long glorious nights in the arms of the man she loved. But most of all, they discussed the perimeters of their job and home life until both were satisfied with the arrangement. The adventures would continue both on and off the field and Gen could hardly wait to return home to their small house in Denver.
Home drew her like a force too deep to ignore. The best of both worlds awaited her and she had one reckless day of change to thank for a lifetime of new beginnings.
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