A Fortune for the Outlaw's Daughter

by Lauri Robinson

  She dug her toes into the ground and spun. “You aren’t going after him.”

  He didn’t answer, but his silence said more than words could have.

  “You aren’t going after Mad Dog,” she repeated.

  Lucky frowned. “Mad Dog?”

  “Yes,” she answered staunchly. “Mad Dog Rodriquez. He changed his name to Alan Ridge, but that’s all that’s changed about him. And you aren’t going after him. Not with broken ribs.”

  Though he still held his rib cage with one hand, a hard glint appeared in his eyes. “You know him?”

  Conscious of the change taking place in Lucky and the men casting curious gazes their way, Maddie lowered her voice. “Yes, I know him. Or knew him.” Searching for something to make him understand he couldn’t go looking for Mad Dog, she added, “And I didn’t spend all summer finding enough gold to save your family’s shipyard just to have him kill you.”

  “Enough money to what?”

  His tone was colder than the wind had been last night. She hadn’t meant to let that slip. Unable to take it back, she explained, “Jack told me. But I figured it was something like that, why you’d want gold when you already had money. Why Trig would want gold, too. Why he made such a deal for it.”

  “Trig? Deal?” Fear of Ridge harming her resided in Cole’s thoughts, along with a great deal of pride in how she’d taken control of the men, and now a strong bout of anger flared along with everything else. He grabbed her arm.

  She refused to move. “Yes, Trig. He gets fifty percent of my gold if I don’t deliver you to him, safe and sound. I’m not about to lose fifty percent of my gold.”

  “I’m sure you’re not,” Cole growled, tugging hard enough so she was forced to move.

  “Looks as if the lady doesn’t want to go with you.”

  Cole pivoted, and let his gaze roam up and down Roman Carmichael. The man stood a foot or two ahead of the rest of the horde once again gathered together. If he didn’t know the men as well as he did, he’d expect to see pitchforks and torches. “I thought I told all of you to go to work,” Cole said, putting himself between Maddie and the crowd.

  Jack finagled his way closer, shoving broad shoulders aside. “Tell them it’s a lie, Cole.”

  “What’s a lie?”

  “Elwood’s claiming you and Maddie aren’t married,” Jack said.

  Cole’s entire being sagged on the inside. On the outside, he stood tall as he glanced down at Maddie, who’d grabbed his arm. Her eyes were wide and startled, and he wasn’t exactly sure how she’d want him to answer. Slowly, with intent, he let his gaze roam the crowd. He’d never seen so much hope in all his born days. Though some held anger and disbelief, most were hoping he and Maddie weren’t married, leaving a chance for one of them to gain her love.

  He’d be damned if that would happen. “How would he know if we were married or not?”

  “That’s what I said,” Jack replied, nodding.

  “He says you stole her from Alan Ridge down in California, swept her aboard your uncle’s ship in the middle of the night and then brought her up here so no one would find the two of you,” Albert said.

  “And you believe him?” Cole challenged.

  “She’s not wearing a wedding ring,” Roman Carmichael said, as if that was proof.

  “That don’t mean nothing,” Jack argued. “Sea captains marry people all the time, with or without rings.” Waving a hand at the group, he continued, “I’ve known Cole since he was born. His uncle, too. If he says he and Maddie are married, they’re married.”

  All eyes landed on him while Roman asked, “Are you married or not?”

  A shout from the river saved Cole from having to reply. A good thing, too, since he hadn’t come up with an answer. He reached back and pulled Maddie forward, tucking her to his side. He still had a head full of questions for her; though he might not be impressed with her answers, right now she needed his protection, and she’d have it.

  Letting his glare cut a path, he walked through the men as they parted. He arrived at the shore the same time Truman and Sylvester rowed ashore, followed by a second boat filled with men dressed in black-and-red uniforms.

  “Did you catch them?” Truman asked. “Those outlaws?”

  “They’re here,” Cole said, gesturing to where Elwood and Butch were tied to a tree. “Ridge got away, but we have men chasing him down.”

  A third man stepped out of Truman’s boat. “You most likely don’t remember me,” he said. “I’m Dr. Westphal. I saw to your injuries yesterday. Truman asked me to ride along in case others were hurt.”

  “Ridge took a bullet,” Cole answered. “But everyone else is fine.”

  The doctor retrieved a leather satchel from the boat. “How about you?”

  “I’m good,” Cole said, watching the Mounties land their boat and begin to climb out. A fifth man, not wearing a uniform but a winter coat and wool pants, was the last to exit the boat.

  “Mr. DuMont?” the man asked.

  “Yes.”

  “My name’s Curtis Wyman. I spent ten years as a sheriff in Wyoming. I’m a federal marshal now, tracking down an outlaw.” He nodded toward the uniformed men. “We’ve joined ranks. Outlaws from both Canada and the States think they can escape to Alaska. That may have been true at one time, but let me assure you, it’s not that way anymore.”

  Maddie had shivered when the man had said his name, and Cole tucked her tighter to his side.

  “From what I hear, the man you encountered may very well be the man I’ve been chasing for years,” Wyman said.

  “Alan Ridge?” Cole asked.

  Wyman nodded. “Also known as Mad Dog Rodriquez.”

  “I just discovered that,” Cole said. The way Maddie trembled beneath his arm had Cole wondering if she’d go down at any moment. Half-afraid he wouldn’t be able to carry her with cracked ribs, he suggested, “Would you join us in our tent, Marshal? As I said, there’s a posse on Ridge’s trail right now.” Cole wanted answers and, just like the lawman, wanted Ridge caught. “Albert there can fill your men in on what happened here.”

  * * *

  Wyman agreed with a nod, and assigned men to stand guard over Elwood and Butch. He directed others to question Albert, before gesturing that he’d follow them toward the tent.

  Cole kept one arm around Maddie and took her elbow with his other hand. He sensed her fear and her wish to stop shaking as hard as she was. His insides were quivering, too. The entire time they’d been up here, she’d been in danger. Ridge could have gotten to her a hundred times. Back in California, and Seattle, too.

  Once inside, Cole encouraged Maddie to sit on the bed. “Have a seat—” He paused to admit, “I’m not sure if I should address you as a marshal or a constable.”

  “Either, or,” Wyman said. “I’m sworn in as both.” Turning a chair away from the table, he said, “But I do prefer Curtis, or just Curt.”

  Cole liked the man’s attitude, and now that she was inside, he liked the fact Maddie’s strength was returning. She’d lifted her head, eyeing the marshal with all the attitude she held toward most men.

  “If that is Mad Dog Rodriquez, he has a list of charges that cover most every state west of the Mississippi,” Curtis said.

  “It’s him,” Maddie said.

  “You know him, Mrs. DuMont?” Curtis asked. “Rodriquez?”

  “She shot him,” Cole answered, surprised at how much pride he had for her actions. Though it had to have been dangerous, she’d taken on the outlaw with all the gusto and stamina she’d displayed from the beginning.

  She glanced up at him, and color touched her cheeks as she said, “Mad Dog used to ride with my father. Bass Mason.”

  For a moment, Cole imagined he looked as taken aback as Wyman did. He shook it off to frown. “Rod
e with your father?”

  Before she answered, Wyman asked, “Bass Mason? You mean Boots Smith?”

  “Yes.” Lifting her gaze, she shrugged slightly. “He changed his name, too. Outlaws do that.”

  “Outlaws?”

  Cole’s question happened at the same time the other man asked, “You’re Smith’s daughter?”

  She nodded.

  “The same one who lived in the mountains north of Cutter’s Gulch with an old miner?” Wyman questioned.

  She nodded again.

  “I’ll be damned,” the man muttered.

  Cole had the same sentiment.

  “Sorry, ma’am,” the marshal apologized. “I’m dumbfounded to say the least. I was part of a group that searched those hills for you for years.”

  Cole’s insides were growing cold and bitter. “Why?”

  “Smith, or Mason, kicked Rodriquez out of his band of outlaws after—” Curtis cleared his throat “—a disagreement. A year or so later, Smith turned himself in. He was granted amnesty upon his agreement to help capture Rodriquez.”

  Maddie’s head had snapped up. “Amnesty?”

  Curtis nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” The man then met Cole’s gaze. “Perhaps you and I should step outside.”

  “No.” Maddie leaped to her feet and crossed the room to grab his arm. “I should have told you, but please, Lucky, I need to know what he has to say.”

  The desire to shield her was great, figuring what Wyman had to say wasn’t going to be pleasant, but he also knew Maddie. She’d want to know every detail. “You’re sure?” he asked.

  “I’m sure,” she said.

  “Go ahead,” he told Curtis.

  The man nodded, but it was a moment before he spoke, probably to curtail some of the details of his story. “Rodriquez had never been a kind man, but after leaving Smith’s gang, he turned bad. Real bad. Carnage littered his trail. Mainly soiled doves. He’d been shot in the thigh and infection had set in, causing him to lose...” The lawman’s face took on a red hue. “Certain abilities.”

  Cole had no doubt what abilities Curtis referred to, and that shocked him. He’d always assumed Alan Ridge sampled the girls he shanghaied.

  “I shot him,” Maddie said, “a long time ago, in Colorado after a train robbery when they were all celebrating. He—”

  “Shh,” Cole said, rubbing her shoulders as he led her back to the bed. Her desire for that big house, one full of food and servants so she’d never have to leave, made sense now. She wanted a fortress, one Mad Dog—or Ridge—couldn’t penetrate. Her distrust of men, people in general, made sense, too.

  “I shot him today, too,” she said softly.

  Cole sat down beside her and rubbed her back.

  “Good for you,” Curtis said. “I’m sure you had no choice, ma’am, and you did the world a favor. Your father would be proud.”

  She shook her head. “My father was—”

  “Was, Mrs. DuMont,” Curtis said. “Your father was an outlaw, but he died with a badge pinned on his chest. Not so unlike this one.” He pointed to the one on his shirt.

  In an effort to make her hands stop trembling, Maddie folded them in her lap. She couldn’t comprehend, not fully, what the marshal was saying. There was no way her father could have died a lawman. “How?”

  “Shortly after Rodriquez went on his rampage, your father turned himself in. He explained how you’d shot Mad Dog. Smith knew Rodriquez was set on finding you, and was willing to do whatever was needed to keep that from happening. He said he’d hid you in the mountains, but feared you’d be discovered. The judge was more than happy to enlist your father’s aid. Rodriquez had stolen the judge’s daughter. Your father aided in the capture of several of Rodriquez’s gang, but unfortunately, lost his life before Rodriquez was captured.”

  Maddie covered her mouth to keep in a sob before she whispered, “Mad Dog hanged him.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I’m sorry to say he did.” The marshal sighed heavily. “Rodriquez seemed to disappear then. Most likely he saw the badge on Smith and the others he hanged that day. Knowing the law was so close to catching him, he went into hiding. We heard tales he’d gone to Mexico and others that he’d gone to Canada.”

  “It was neither,” Lucky said. “He’d gone to California.”

  Maddie nodded in agreement. “And changed his name.”

  “We know that now,” the marshal said. “But it took a few years before it was discovered. He went down through Mexico and worked his way back up to California.”

  “He ran henchmen up and down the coast, stealing young girls and selling them, mainly to ship captains who took them to Mexico or farther south,” Lucky said.

  “He’s like a chameleon,” the marshal said. “Blends in so well he practically disappears whenever the law gets close.” He then asked, “How long have you been in Alaska?”

  “Since spring,” Maddie answered. “Smitty, the miner I lived with in the mountains, died last fall and gave me enough money to go to California.”

  Lucky stood up and started pacing. “Ridge tried stealing her. My uncle had partnered up with a local woman who hid girls Ridge and others like him pursued. We’d sneak them out of town and take them north to Seattle.”

  Maddie held her breath, waiting for the lawman to ask if they were truly married like the men outside had. Even with everything else she’d just learned, it was that thought that still plagued her.

  The marshal nodded. “I’ve heard that, how ship captains were helping those girls. I trailed Rodriquez to Seattle, and when I saw the boats sailing north, figured this is where he’d gone. I’ll catch him. Have no doubt about that, ma’am,” he said, addressing her with a steady gaze. “I suggest when you go south again, you stop in Clear Springs, Wyoming.”

  “Why?” Lucky asked.

  “Smith captured several men, and each one had a bounty on their head,” the marshal answered. “There’s a bank account in his and your name, ma’am, a pretty hefty one.”

  Curtis Wyman appeared to be an honest and knowledgeable man. His eyes were kind, too, and his smile friendly, and he’d certainly been sincere while sharing information about her father, yet Maddie couldn’t help but point out, “Outlaws can’t claim bounties, or lawmen.”

  “The judge insisted, ma’am. Your father rescued his daughter before Rodriquez sold her to a band of renegade Indians.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  A thick fog had formed inside Maddie’s head. For so many years she’d remembered her father one way, and couldn’t quite work her way around all the lawman said. Other memories, things she’d forgotten because she hadn’t wanted to remember them, were filtering in, too. How Bass had moved her and Smitty several times that first year, and how the last time she’d seen him, Bass had looked at her differently. His parting words that day had been to tell her everything would have been different if she’d been a boy.

  All the time, she’d thought he’d been disappointed because she wasn’t a son who could have followed in his footsteps. Now she had to wonder if he’d said it because she’d been his daughter and he’d had to change his life because of her.

  It was as if all she’d ever known, ever believed, had changed, and she wasn’t sure what to do about that.

  The opening of the door snagged her attention. “Wait,” she said, jumping off the bed before Lucky could follow the marshal out the door. “Where are you going?”

  Lucky said something quietly to the lawman before closing the door. “I won’t be gone long,” he told her. “I’ll have Albert stand guard at the door.”

  His face was swollen and he held one hand against his ribs. She shook her head. “You aren’t going anywhere.”

  “Maddie, I know you’re scared, but—”

  “Scared? I’m not scared. Not of Mad Dog.
” She wanted to move closer, explain her only true fears concerned him, but his standoffish attitude stopped her. “I’ve shot him twice, and I’m not afraid to do it again,” she declared. “Mad Dog’s a lot of things, but he’s not stupid. He won’t come back here, not in the light of the day.” She thought about saying Mad Dog was lying, that her first bullet hadn’t rendered him incapable of anything, but that would only make Lucky more determined. Maddie knew, too, that her second bullet hadn’t done much damage, either. Rubbing both arms, she tried to ward off a sickening chill. “He’ll find a spot to hide, maybe even gather his men together, and then wait.”

  Beneath the swelling, Lucky’s eyes grew hard, his features rigid. “Start packing.”

  Thrown by his command, she questioned, “Packing what?”

  “Your things,” he barked. “You’re leaving.”

  “No, I’m not.” Maddie spun around to wave a hand at the table, where everything was set up for the day’s cleanout. “We still have two weeks to mine gold and I—”

  “Maddie, you’re leaving.” Lucky grabbed her arms and spun her around. “You said yourself Mad Dog won’t return in the light of day. That he’ll wait. Come back at night. We can’t take that chance.”

  Even angry, his sincerity, his concern, touched her. Maddie wanted to lay her head on his chest, but his injuries made her afraid to touch him. “Maybe Tim already caught him,” she offered hopefully.

  Lucky shook his head. “No, he’d have already been back.” He took her arm and ushered her toward the boxes holding her possessions. “Start packing. I’m taking you to town.”

  “You can’t row in your condition,” she argued. “Besides, we can’t stop mining now. Our payouts have been—”

  “Don’t worry about your precious gold, Maddie,” he growled. “I’ll see to it.”

  She wrenched her arm from his hold. “You’ll see to it?” Fury matched concern. “It’s my gold, too, and I’m not leaving without you. We either both leave or we both stay.”