by Nerys Leigh
Clara and Toby shrank back into the cover behind the stack of barrels. Above them, the window slammed shut.
Through narrow gaps between barrels, they watched the Hatmakers fan out across the courtyard, eyes darting between a pile of wooden crates on the far side and the barrels behind which Clara and Toby hid. Some had guns. Most carried wooden bats, stained with splotches of dark brown.
Clara pulled her revolver from her pocket. She wished she’d brought extra cartridges, but she hadn’t thought she’d need them. All they were doing was going to a restaurant. She almost hadn’t brought the gun at all.
Six rounds in her revolver, six in Tobias’.
Twelve bullets, seventeen men.
She looked up into her husband’s eyes and knew he was thinking the same thing she was – it would take a miracle.
“Mr. and Mrs. Campbell!” one of the Hats called out.
How did he know their names?
She peered through a tiny gap between barrels to see the man speaking. He was somewhere in his late thirties, wearing a suit, a bowler hat, and a neatly trimmed beard. He didn’t look like a vicious criminal.
But then she didn’t look like a Pinkerton agent.
“I’m going to ask you to come out here now.” When they didn’t comply, the man said, “You see, Marvin’s my brother. Now, I know it wasn’t you who betrayed him, but we can’t get to that rat, Loomis, in police custody. And if it weren’t for the two of you, he’d be lying at the bottom of the Hudson right now. So I have a problem. Truth be told, my brother and me hated each other and I should rightfully be grateful for what you did. But as the new leader of the Hatmakers, I can’t let the people who got him locked up away with it. Now how would that look? So I’m going to have to kill you both, just to let everyone know who’s in charge now. I’m sure you understand. But if you come out here and don’t make a fuss, I give you my word it will be quick and almost painless. What do you say?”
Clara looked up into Toby’s eyes. Fear and determination gazed back at her.
She lifted her revolver and nodded to show him she was ready to fight, for him, for their fledgling marriage, for the future she wanted with him.
Cupping her cheek, he pressed a kiss to her forehead and, smiling, mouthed, “I love you.”
She mouthed, “I love you too.”
If his smile was the last thing she saw, she would die happy.
Although not dying at all would be her first choice.
The idea of her own death frightened her, but it was as nothing compared to the prospect of seeing Toby suffer. Surely this wouldn’t be it?
Praying silently for some way out, she turned to face the pile of barrels hiding them.
And then she had an idea.
“From your silence, I’m going to take it that you want to do this the hard way,” Morgan Miller said. “I’m disappointed, but you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Across the courtyard, the gang split into two, one group approaching the boxes and the other heading for where Clara and Toby hid.
The barrels were stacked like bricks on top of one another, so each barrel straddled the two or three beneath it. It left just enough room that someone could stand on the lids, if they had small feet. Clara had small feet.
She pushed her gun back into her pocket, tapped Toby’s shoulder to get his attention, and mimed a request for him to boost her up.
He raised his eyebrows in a question and she pushed her palms forward then pointed at the barrels at the top of the heap.
Nodding in understanding, he laced his fingers together. She stepped into them and pulled herself silently up into position on the bottom layer of barrels.
Toby peered through the gap into the courtyard, one hand raised in a gesture for her to wait. Unable to see what was going on from her position, she braced her hands against one of the third tier of barrels and watched for his signal.
The thud thud of her heart measured the seconds ticking by.
And then he waved for her to go.
She pushed against the barrel with all her might. The empty vessel was lighter than she’d expected and it plummeted from the top of the pile.
Someone cried out as the barrel crashed to the ground.
Taking advantage of the distraction, Toby fired.
Running footsteps and shouting sounded from the courtyard.
Clara sent another barrel careering down, and then another. Toby’s gunshots punctuated the shattering of wood and grunts of pain.
Gunfire erupted, peppering their shelter. Could bullets pierce wooden barrels?
She sent a fourth plunging into the melee.
With four barrels gone, she could finally see down into the courtyard. The Hatmakers had scattered, some taking refuge behind the pile of boxes, others retreating into the alleyway. Seven lay on the ground, four of them apparently having been hit by the barrels and three bleeding from gunshot wounds.
Toby’s gun barked again and another man went down.
From her elevated position, Clara could see some of the men in the alleyway where they were using the brewery for cover as they shot back.
She pulled her gun from her pocket, took careful aim, and fired. A man staggered backwards and fell.
Heartened by her success, she fired twice more. One missed. The other found its mark and a man dropped his gun and clutched at his shoulder.
Some of the men turned their weapons in her direction and she ducked as bullets showered the barrels around her. One made it through, whistling past only inches from her face.
Startled, she jerked backwards and slipped from her perch.
Her fall came to a sudden stop as she landed in Toby’s arms. She grasped his shirt, breathing hard.
“Are you all right?”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
He set her on her feet and pushed his spectacles back into position.
More shots cracked the air and they huddled back against the wall, waiting for the barrage to end.
“How many rounds do you have left?” he whispered.
“Three. You?”
“One.”
From the sound of the gunfire, there were far more than four Hats still in good enough condition to fight.
She handed him her revolver. “You’re a much better shot than me.”
He gave his gun to her in exchange. Peering through the gap between the barrels, he took aim and fired. Someone grunted in pain.
She looked at the gun in her hand, with its single bullet. “We’re not going to make it, are we?”
He shook his head, his back to her. “Don’t think that. We have to… We can… I won’t let you…”
She touched his arm and he finally turned to face her. The pain in his eyes echoed that in her heart.
He looked up at the pile of barrels, raking his fingers through his hair. “I should never have brought you here. This is my fault.”
“Don’t you dare blame yourself.” She touched her palm to his jaw to turn him back to her, hoping he wouldn’t see how afraid she was. “We all have to go sometime. If my time is now, I’m glad I got to fall in love with you first.”
He looked away, shaking his head.
She lowered her hand to his arm, resting her forehead against his shoulder.
Drawing in a breath, he turned back to her, pushed his fingers into her hair, and pressed his lips to hers in a kiss so filled with love and passion that, for just a moment, she forgot everything around them.
She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around him, pushing closer, longing for the moment to last forever.
Reality came crashing back in with Miller’s voice. “Come on, let’s be sensible about this. You’ve got nowhere to go. I’ll tell you what, if you give up, we’ll let Mrs. Campbell go. Can’t say fairer than that.”
Toby’s mouth slipped from hers with a sigh.
“He’s lying,” she said. She didn’t have to see Miller’s face to know that.
“I know.” He raised his voice. “You want us, you�
�re going to have to come and get us.”
Harsh whispers drifted to them, perhaps some kind of argument. Although it didn’t seem to make a difference.
“All right then,” Miller said. “Can’t say I didn’t try.”
Toby gave her a smile tinged with sadness. “Ready?”
She wasn’t, but she tried to look brave anyway. “Always.”
Lifting her gun with the single bullet, she took aim through the gap between barrels. Toby moved to the edge of the stack, weapon raised.
A man ran across her line of sight. She fired and he dropped.
Toby shot once and there was a cry of pain.
Footsteps pounded on the paving stones, too many to fight. He fired twice more then pushed his empty revolver into his waistband and faced the edge of the pile of barrels, standing in front of her. Protecting her to the end.
She blinked away tears. Lord, please make it quick.
And then a whistle sounded.
Yells.
More whistles.
Someone shouted, “It’s the cops!”
She heard men running, but this time they were moving away. Her breath froze in her lungs.
Toby edged to the end of the barrel pile and peered around the corner.
“Are they gone?” she whispered, hardly daring to hope.
“I can’t see anyone. Stay here.”
Before she could stop him, he left the cover of the pile of barrels. She rushed to see what he was doing.
Nine men lay scattered around the courtyard amidst the shattered remains of the barrels she’d pushed off the pile, whether unconscious or dead, she couldn’t tell. At least four of them were bleeding from gunshot wounds. Toby made his way to each one before he returned to her and they retreated behind their barrel shield again.
He held up two pistols. “This was all I could find. They must have taken the others. I think they’re gone, but we should wait, just to be sure.”
He appeared calm, but she caught the slight tremor at the corners of his lips, the tightness of his jaw, the nerve twitching at the side of his neck.
“Toby.” With a whimper, she flew into his arms.
They held onto each other so tightly she didn’t know where she ended and he began. We’re all right, she kept repeating to herself, over and over. How she managed to stop the tears from falling, she had no idea.
They stood there, clutching onto each other, waiting.
Footsteps in the courtyard startled them apart.
Heart lurching, she peered between the barrels, expecting to see the Hatmakers returning to finish them.
“Tobias? Mrs. Campbell? Are you here?”
All the breath left her lungs at the sight of Captain Perkins striding into the courtyard.
Toby’s shoulders slumped in relief. “We’re here.”
Taking her hand, he led her out into the open.
Two patrolmen were with the captain, checking the bodies lying on the ground
Relief filled Captain Perkins’ face when he saw Clara and Toby. “Thank the Lord. I thought the two of you were…” He puffed out a breath, shaking his head.
Toby hugged her against his side. “Any longer and we would have been.”
“How did you find us?” she said, needing something to focus on to keep herself from collapsing into a heap on the ground.
“Turns out, the reason we were always one step behind Marvin Miller was because he was bribing a clerk at our station to let him know when we were getting close. When we questioned the Hats we brought in, they gave up this clerk, and he admitted he’d told them about you and given them the name of your hotel. I knew they’d be going after you tonight. The gunshots brought us to you. Good thing we got here when we did.”
“You have no idea,” she said, leaning her head against Toby’s shoulder.
“We’ve got all the rest of them now.” He glanced around at the bodies. “The ones you didn’t get, anyway.”
“Are they dead?” Clara asked, not at all sure if she wanted to know.
“Two are,” one of the patrolmen replied. “The rest are still breathing.”
“They chose their path,” Toby murmured to her. “You have nothing to feel guilty about.”
For a man who claimed to be terrible at reading emotions, he could be remarkably observant sometimes.
She looked up at him and managed a shaky smile. “I’ll be all right.”
“You two look like you need to sit down,” Captain Perkins said. “I’ll get someone to escort you back to your hotel.”
Toby held out his right hand. “Thank you. We owe you our lives.”
Captain Perkins shook it with a smile. “Just returning the favor.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
When they got back to their suite, Tobias and Clara changed into their nightclothes and climbed straight into bed. They were both exhausted and all he wanted to do was hold his wife in his arms and rest.
He could feel the tension in her body as she lay with her head resting on his chest, and he stroked one hand gently down the waves of dark hair draped over her back until her breathing slowed and she relaxed.
“Feeling better?” he murmured.
She nodded against his chest. “Much.” Her shoulders rose and fell in a deep sigh. “This has certainly been a trip of firsts.”
“Oh?”
“First marriage...”
“And last, I hope.”
She smiled against his skin. “That’s the plan. First time meeting a lord. First time meeting a prostitute as well. I’ve really covered the whole social scale. First dead body. First time almost dying.”
The last sent a spasm through his gut. He’d known fear for his own life on more than one occasion, but that paled into insignificance next to fear for the woman he loved.
But he’d learned something today, as they fought for their lives against the remains of the Hatmaker gang. “About when you refused to leave me alone to fight the Hats…”
“I don’t regret that,” she said immediately. “I’d do it again, if I had to.”
He drew in a deep breath. “I think you were right.”
“Well of course I was right.” She was silent for a moment. “About what, exactly?”
He smiled. “About us being stronger together. I’m not good at working with others, but with you it’s different. I want you with me, whatever we do. I was wrong to think you should stay out of danger for me. After what happened today, if you want to change your mind about being a Pinkerton agent I wouldn’t blame you. But if you still want to be one, I won’t hold you back. You’re a skilled investigator, and one of the bravest people I’ve ever met.”
She lifted her head to look into his eyes. “No more orders to leave you to die while I run away?”
“Oh, I’ll certainly do everything I can to protect you.” With his life, if he had to. “But I won’t force you to stay where I think you’ll be safe. I’ll treat you the same as any of the male agents I’ve worked with.”
Her eyebrows rose, her lips twitching with amusement. “You will?”
“Well, with some very important differences, obviously.”
Laughing softly, she lay her head back down.
He waited for her to consider his words, resuming the movement of his fingers over her silky hair.
If she no longer wanted to join the Pinkertons, he would leave the agency. He’d decided that already. He wouldn’t put her through the torture of waiting for him to come home from each assignment, always with the possibility he couldn’t come home at all. He’d experienced what that was like and he wouldn’t ask it of her, no matter how much he loved his job.
After a while, she lifted her head again to look at him. “Solving crimes is all I’ve ever wanted to do.”
He traced his fingertips around the edge of her hair and pushed the wayward strands behind her ear. “I know what that’s like.”
“I want to be a Pinkerton agent.”
He smiled. “Then we’ll solve crimes tog
ether. And we’ll be stronger for it.”
She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, her kiss sending tingles of sensation through his skin.
They were stronger together, and they’d be together for the rest of their lives.
“Do we have to go back to Denver right away?” she asked as she rested her head back onto his chest.
“We could send a telegraph to Archie asking for some extra time. I’m sure he can keep looking after my maggots for a while longer. Why? What do you have in mind?”
“Maggots,” she murmured vaguely.
Maybe he shouldn’t have reminded her.
“I was thinking,” she said, “since we’re fairly close to Boston, maybe you’d like to visit your parents and introduce me. I’d like to meet them.”
The suggestion was so unexpected that he couldn’t think of an answer. He hadn’t seen his parents in years. There had been occasional letters between them, but he didn’t think they wanted to see him. They’d always wanted him to go into the sciences, like his father, and they hadn’t hidden the fact that his choice of career was a disappointment to them.
“I don’t know,” he said eventually. “They… they might be busy.”
She lifted her head, hurt on her face. “Are you afraid they won’t approve of me?”
“Oh no, not at all,” he said quickly. Nothing could have been further from the truth. “I’m afraid you won’t approve of them. I haven’t seen them in almost four years. We aren’t close.”
The worry vanished from her face, replaced by the soft smile he loved so much. “Do you know the biggest reason I want to meet them?”
He didn’t have the first idea. When he considered that he’d have to meet her parents in the near future, his predominant emotion was deep, deep terror. “No.”
She stretched up to place a soft kiss onto his lips. “Because I want to thank them for their son.”
It looked like he was going to see his parents.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Two days later.
Clara watched Toby finger the telegram he’d received from his father the previous evening. He’d read it at least five times, that she’d seen.
She moved closer to him on the bench where they were waiting for the train to take them to Boston and slipped her hand around his arm. “I’m sure you have nothing to worry about.”