“You did what you could, Reuben.” The sheriff was surprised Reuben had even made an attempt to stop the bank robbers.
Stella kept her promise to Walt, saying to the sheriff, “I saw them riding north. I was sitting on the balcony when I heard the shot.” She realized people would come running when they heard the shot, so she’d stuffed the money down her chemise and tied her robe tightly around her. By the time the sheriff arrived at the bank, Stella was banging on the front door. The sheriff forced the door open, and they found Reuben lying on the floor. “I’ll take care of him, go on after them, Sheriff.”
“Thanks, Stella,” the sheriff said. “You say there were only two of them?”
“That’s all I saw,” Reuben said, clutching his arm.
“I only saw two men riding away,” Stella added.
“Reuben, did you know them, or ever see them before? Can you describe them?” the sheriff asked.
“They had their bandanas over their faces. I didn’t see anything other than their eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen them before.”
“Okay, Stella will help you,” the sheriff said on his way out the door.
Stella knew Reuben was lying. The man who had given her the money, Walt, didn’t have his mask on when he left the bank. Walt was meeting Reuben because they were partners in the robbery. She helped Reuben to his feet. “Come on, I’ll help you home. I don’t think the doctor is in town.”
“Thank you. I don’t think it’s serious. Perhaps you could bandage it for me.”
“Of course.” Rarely did men surprise Stella, but today, she’d had two of the biggest surprises of her life. This timid little man was a bank robber, and in a week she would be meeting a handsome cowboy and leaving behind the life she hated. Maybe dreams did come true. As soon as they were out of the bank, Stella said, “Reuben, I will be riding with you next week to meet Walt.”
* * *
Frank stayed off the trail the entire trip to Whispering Pines, and reined in at the Conner place two hours after the robbery. He hadn’t even stopped to count the money. When Walt shot Reuben, all he could think about was getting out of the area. He hadn’t even slowed down for Walt to catch up with him.
Corbin walked out of the cabin. “Did you bring any whiskey?”
“No.”
“Where’s Walt?”
“He should be here soon,” Frank said.
They heard a horse riding in, and Frank pulled his pistol. When he saw it was Stevie, he holstered his gun.
Stevie jumped from his horse. “Where’ve you been?”
“Denver,” Frank said, dismounting.
“Why didn’t you tell me? I’ve been out here several times looking for you.”
“We wanted to check out the town,” Frank said. He glanced at Corbin. “You got any coffee on the stove?”
“I’ll get some going.” Corbin walked back inside the cabin.
Frank waited until the door closed, then said, “We wanted to see what time was best to rob the bank.”
“I don’t see why I couldn’t have gone with you. Anyways, Reuben already told you the best time to pull the robbery.” Stevie looked around for Walt’s horse. “Where’s Walt?”
“I expect him any minute,” Frank said.
Stevie was angry he was the one always staying behind. Reuben had told them everything they needed to know about the bank robbery. “You and Walt ain’t planning on robbing that bank without me, are you?”
Frank glared at him. “You’d ask your own brother that? We’ve planned it together, haven’t we?”
Stevie hung his head. “Sorry, Frankie, I’m just tired of staying at the farm and not knowing what is going on.”
Frank shook his head as if he was disappointed in Stevie. “Why were you coming out here? Did something happen?”
“I came out to tell you that Rose was marrying Morgan on Saturday.”
“Next Saturday?” Frank asked.
“No, they married yesterday,” Stevie said. “You’re too late to stop it now.”
Frank’s face twisted in rage. “You were supposed to let me know before it happened!”
“I rode out here twice to tell you, but you weren’t here. How can I tell you when I don’t know where you are?”
Frank’s mind was racing. He couldn’t believe his own sister had married his enemy. Morgan was going to pay for this. Frank was certain Morgan had only asked Rose to marry out of spite. Rose was going to pay too. He needed time to think. “Stevie, go home. I’ll be there in a couple of hours.”
“What are you going to do, Frankie?”
“Right now I’m going to make a plan. Do as I say and go home.”
Frank watched Stevie ride away before he led his horse to the back of the cabin. He needed to hide his saddlebags in case Corbin got nosy. He wanted to take time to count the money, but right now it was more important to find a secure place for the cash. He walked through the trees until he found a perfect spot beneath a large tree, where he could bury his saddlebags under rocks.
When Frank returned to the cabin, Corbin said, “I thought you said Walt was right behind you?”
“I thought he was.” Frank wondered what was keeping Walt. What if he got caught? He didn’t know if Walt had killed Reuben, and he didn’t care one way or the other. That was one killing they couldn’t pin on him. He wasn’t planning on meeting Reuben in a week anyway. There was no way he was going to split the money with him.
Corbin handed Frank a cup of coffee. “Where do you think he is?”
“How do I know? Maybe his horse threw a shoe. Maybe he stopped for a nap.”
“You want me to go look for him?” Corbin asked.
“No. I want you to sit down. I want to tell you what we are going to do today.”
* * *
When Stevie reached the farm, he stabled his horse, but he didn’t take the time to remove his saddle. In a huff, he yanked off his saddlebag and stalked to the house. Once inside, he threw the saddlebag in a chair. He was tired of being taken for granted. There was no reason for Frankie to be in Denver, other than . . . no, he didn’t want to think that of his own brother. On the other hand, Reuben’s words kept playing in his mind. Reuben told him Frankie was going to double-cross all of them. And where was Walt? Did Frankie do something to Walt? He’d planned to meet Reuben in a few days, so he’d have a chance to ask him if he’d seen Frankie in Denver.
To be on the safe side, he thought he’d find a new hiding place for his money. If he didn’t like Frankie’s plans, he’d just take off on his own. That thought spurred him into action. He’d get his things together and hide them in the stable just in case he needed to go it alone. He grabbed his saddlebag from the chair and carried it to the bureau, then yanked a couple of shirts and socks out of a drawer and stuffed them in his saddlebag. He walked to the corner of the room and pried up the floorboard. Once he tossed the bag on the bed, he realized the bag was stamped with the name of a bank in St. Louis. He needed to get rid of that bank bag. He stuck his hand in the bag to pull the money out, but he came out with a handful of old newspapers. He emptied the bag on the floor and saw that more than half of the money had been replaced with newspapers. Frankie.
Stevie was distraught over what Frankie had done. He’d worshipped his big brother his whole life. How could he betray him like this? When had he taken the money? Frank was late the day they’d met Reuben. That had to be the day he took the money.
Realizing he didn’t have time to sit there and think about Frankie’s deceit, he jumped up and grabbed what money was left and shoved it in his saddlebag. He filled the bank bag with the newspapers and placed it back in the hole. He ran to the stable and hid the saddlebag beneath the hay in one of the stalls. He’d just made it back inside the house when Frankie slipped through the back door.
Frank took a seat at the kitchen table. “I figured out a way to get to LeMasters. I’ve sent Corbin to ride on Morgan’s property to create a diversion.”
Stevie found
it difficult to be civil. He thought he was a faster draw than Frankie, but before he did something stupid, he wanted to know if his brother had already robbed the Denver bank. “What do you have planned?”
“Corbin is going to set a fire in the north pasture. I figure that will draw Morgan and his men to that area. Then we are going to set a fire here, and I know Rose will come running.”
“Then what?” Stevie didn’t care one way or the other if he burned the farm down.
“Then I’m taking Rose with us. I’ll have the very thing Morgan wants, and he will come to me.”
“What if Granny comes with her when they see the fire?” Stevie asked.
“Too bad for Granny. She always cared more about Morgan than she did us.”
“You’re going to take Rose to Denver with us to rob the bank?” He watched Frankie’s face carefully to see how he reacted to his question.
“We’ll have to put the robbery off for a few weeks,” Frank answered. “We’ll take the money you stole and head on down to Mexico.”
Stevie walked to his bedroom to get the bank bag. He had his answer. There was no way Frank would put off that bank robbery. Not after he’d already gone to the trouble to meet Reuben and planned the whole thing. Frank had already held up the bank, and Stevie figured it was likely Walt had been shot during the robbery. But what had happened to Reuben? If they’d robbed the bank today, Reuben wouldn’t have been working. Stevie retrieved the money, and when he turned around, Frank was standing in the doorway. He threw the bag on the bed. “There you go.”
Frank thought Stevie seemed jittery, but he read it as fear over what he had planned for Rose and Morgan. “It’ll take a while for Corbin to get there and get the fire started. You got any whiskey?”
“Yeah.” Stevie knew Frankie wouldn’t look in the bag since he’d already removed most of the money.
Frank grabbed the bag of money off the bed and walked toward the kitchen. Obviously, Stevie had never looked inside the bag and found most of the money missing, so Frank was going to keep it within his grasp and make sure he didn’t open it now.
Stevie pulled out a full bottle of whiskey from the cabinet, and Frank filled two glasses.
“Here’s to paying Morgan LeMasters back,” Frank said, holding his glass in the air.
Stevie clinked his glass to Frankie’s. “Yeah.”
Frank could tell Stevie was upset. “I thought you would be happy to finally show LeMasters that he don’t run things around here.”
“I just wanted to rob that bank and get out of here for good,” Stevie replied before he downed his whiskey.
Frank looked at his brother over the rim of the glass as he drained his whiskey. He picked up the bottle and refilled both glasses. “That bank won’t be going anywhere.”
“But Reuben may leave. He wants to travel,” Stevie said, and took another long drink.
“We can do it without Reuben.” Frank filled Stevie’s glass again. He knew Stevie couldn’t handle his liquor any better than Corbin. He wanted to leave him behind, and what better way to do it than get him too drunk to know what was happening. He didn’t want to split the money with him any more than he did the rest of the gang. “Drink up. Everything will work out well.”
They drank several more glasses in silence, and Frank thought Stevie was about ready to pass out until he started talking again.
“Reuben’s my friend,” Stevie slurred. He hadn’t had many friends in his life. Reuben had kept his word about sharing the money after he planned the stagecoach robbery. Stevie thought Reuben was smart, and he trusted him. That was more than he could say about his own brother. All Frankie ever did was use him to get information on where Morgan’s cattle were grazing. Frankie always left him behind. He didn’t know why he expected things to be different this time. “You don’t know what it’s like to have a friend you can trust.”
Frank laughed. “You think he’s a friend? He’d double-cross you in a heartbeat.”
Stevie drank some more. “Reuben’s not the one who would double-cross me.”
“What are you saying, Stevie?” Frank asked.
Stevie stumbled to his feet. “I’m saying I think you’re the one who double-crosses everyone.”
“You better watch it, little brother,” Frank said in a threatening tone. He poured more whiskey in his glass. “Drink your whiskey and let’s talk about Mexico.”
Slumping back into his chair, Stevie grabbed the glass and threw the contents back.
Frank poured the remainder of the whiskey into his glass. “Looks like we might need another bottle.”
Stevie took another large swig before he dropped his head to the table. “I know you took that money,” he mumbled.
“What?” Frank wasn’t certain he’d heard him correctly.
“Money. Gone.”
Frank heard him this time. “Do you have another bottle?”
Stevie tried to stand, but it took him a few times before he stopped wobbling. “It’s . . . bedroom.” He stumbled across the room.
When Stevie left the kitchen, Frank walked to the window. He saw a thin plume of smoke in the distance. Corbin had started the fire. A few seconds later, he saw another plume of smoke. Good for Corbin. He figured he’d set the fire at the farm in a few minutes. He wasn’t going to concern himself if Granny came with Rose. He’d have to improvise. He really didn’t care one way or the other what happened to Granny or Rose.
Hearing a crash from the hallway, Frank walked from the kitchen to see Stevie slumped to the floor. His holster and two bottles of whiskey were on the floor beside him. It looked like his little brother went in the bedroom for more than his whiskey. He tucked the bag of money under his arm and threw the holster over his shoulder. He picked up the whiskey bottles and walked to the front door. On the way out, he grabbed two kerosene lamps and smashed them on the floor. Glancing at the sky over Morgan’s ranch, he counted four plumes of dark smoke in the distance. It was time to execute his plan. He struck a match on the sole of his boot and threw it inside the house. The wood ignited quickly, and Frank walked slowly to the back of the house to wait.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Morgan and his men saw the rising smoke in the northern range of the ranch. Every available man rode in that direction to see what was going on.
Rose was outside at the paddock feeding apples to Judge, telling him about her lovely wedding as if he were a trusted friend. As Judge munched on the apples, Rose thought of her wedding night. Those were memories she would never share with anyone, not even Judge. At first, she’d been too shy to turn around after Morgan unbuttoned her dress and removed her undergarments. But when she summoned the courage, it had been well worth her embarrassment when she saw the look in his eyes. At the thought, she felt herself blushing, just as she had last night.
She was jarred from her reverie when Judge nudged her arm. “So you want another apple, huh?” She smiled as she reached inside the bandana to pull out the remaining slices. As Judge ate from her palm, she looked out over the ranch and noticed smoke rising to the sky. She couldn’t imagine why anyone would build a fire at this time of day, so she ran to the stable to see if anyone was there. She found one man changing horses, and she told him about the smoke. He jumped into the saddle and rode out fast. She ran back to the paddock and gave Judge the last of the apple. “Granny is napping, so I have to go prepare dinner now,” she said, giving him one last rub on the neck.
On her way to the house, she thought she smelled smoke, but it had to be her imagination since the fire was so far away. But when she looked around, she saw a large black cloud rising from the direction of Granny’s farmhouse.
There were no men at the ranch to go with her, but she couldn’t stand there and do nothing if something at the farm was burning. Stevie might need help trying to put it out. She took off running through the trees in the direction of their farm. The winds were high and Rose didn’t hear the usual sounds in the pines. But she thought she heard someone saying
turn back. She turned around but no one was there, so she didn’t heed the warning. She kept running until she cleared the trees on the boundary of their farm. She couldn’t believe what she saw. The farmhouse was ablaze. She clutched her skirt in her hands and ran toward the house as fast as she could, shouting Stevie’s name. Seeing the entire front of the house was engulfed in flames, she headed to the back. She rounded the corner of the house straight into the barrel of a gun.
“Hello, Rose. Or should I say, Mrs. LeMasters.”
Rose could barely speak. Her heart was pounding from exertion, and from fear. The last thing she expected was to see Frankie. “What’s happened? Why are you here? Where’s Stevie?”
Frank didn’t answer her questions. “Where’s Granny?”
“At the ranch, why?” She jumped when the fire exploded to the center of the house, and she felt the heat of the flames on her skin.
“Come on.” Frank stepped away from the house, and motioned with his pistol for her to walk in the direction of the stable.
Rose didn’t move. “What are you doing, Frankie? We need to see if Stevie is inside before the whole house burns.”
“He’s not there.”
“How do you know he’s not in the house?” She tried to walk around him to get to the back door, but he pushed the gun in her ribs. “Why are you holding a gun on me?”
“I told you to walk,” he repeated, nudging her again with the pistol.
The flames consumed all but the back part of the house. Surely, if Stevie was in there when the fire started he got out, but she had to make sure. If Frank shot her, then he shot her. She darted around him and headed to the back door. She never made it. Frank cracked the back of her skull with the butt of his pistol.
Frank left Rose lying on the ground as he ran to the stable to get Stevie’s horse. He led the horse to the back of the house, where he threw Rose over the saddle. He didn’t see Stevie’s saddlebags, so he wrapped the money bag and whiskey bottles in the bedroll. Mounting behind Rose, he rode to the area where he’d left his horse. His first stop would be the Conner house to get his saddlebags he stashed under the rocks. If Corbin had returned, then he could go with him. If not, he didn’t care. Frank had the one thing Morgan wanted, and there was no doubt in his mind Morgan would come after her.
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