by Kay Stuart
* * * * *
It was late afternoon when Royce approached the Gaines’ two story home. Wind was blowing off the mountains sending out icy fingers of cold. The sky had turned gray and wintry. The smell of snow was in the air.
Royce knocked on the front door hoping Faith would answer. When she did, he stood before her tongue tied. How could he place the woman he loved in danger. Yet, he had to get word to Marshal Tinsley and since he could not go himself there was only one person he trusted enough to send.
“Yes,” Faith asked when Royce did not speak.
“Come outside,” he said gruffly.
Faith knew Royce had something on his mind. “I’ll be with you in a minute. I will need my coat.” A few minutes later Faith sat down on one of the porch chairs and huddled inside her warm coat. “You want something,” she asked.
“I don’t know how to explain what I need you to do. You can tell me no if you’ve a mind to,” Royce said.
“You haven’t said what you want,” Faith reminded. She watched Royce pace back and forth across the porch. “Is it a sin or against the law,” she asked simply noticing the worried frown upon Royce’s face.
“What,” Royce quipped. He had been thought miles away.
“Is it a sin or against the law,” Faith repeated and smiled when Royce gave her a quizzical look. “What you want me to do.”
“Oh.” Royce said and knelt before Faith holding her cold fingers in his hands. “Neither,” he admitted boyishly. “I need your help. My letters haven’t been getting through to Marshal Tinsley. I want you to go to Carrington City.”
“The Mail Stage robberies,” Faith stated. “Your letters were what the robbers were after.”
“I believe so,” Royce admitted reluctantly. He was having second thoughts about sending Faith. It might be too dangerous. “I can’t go myself. My absence would be noticed. Ferguson and his gang could disappear only to resurface someplace else. The killings and robberies would continue if this happens.”
“Can’t you arrest them,” Faith asked.
Royce waited a long moment before speaking. The frown creasing his forehead intensified. His green eyes were bright jewels that reflected his concern. “Ferguson and his cohorts were out of town the night I was shot. Someone else did that and until I can find the person responsible I can’t trust anyone,” Royce replied.
“You are trusting me,” Faith reminded. She leaned towards Royce in her earnestness. Her heart lodged in her throat. How could she go and leave the man she loved to face unknown dangers alone.
“Am I wrong to trust you,” Royce asked.
“Need you ask,” Faith replied as she shook her head no. “What do you want me to do,” she asked simply, bravely. Her fingers shook as she opened her hand and gripped Royce’s hand tightly. Fear darkened her eyes as color stole slowly up her face.
“Meet me after dark in the stables. We will ride through the night to Clear Water. I will put you on the stage there. You will have a three days journey to Headquarters. Faith, I know it is asking a lot but you must not tell anyone. Not even your family. Their fears must be genuine or Ferguson might suspect what you are doing then your life will be in great danger. No one must know you are going for Marshal Tinsley,” Royce stressed. He gripped Faith’s fingers urgently.
“Mother and Father will be frantic,” Faith whispered. Not sure she could do what Royce asked of her.
“I know my love. It can not be helped. I don’t want any harm to come to you. Will you still go?”
“I will go,” Faith replied after silent moments of reflection. “Mother will understand as for Father.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I might me locked in the cellar for the rest of my life,” she admitted ruefully.
Royce did not say anything. He drank in Faith’s loveliness marveling at her courage. “I do love you,” Royce said hoping that was sufficient. They were both taking chances. “I will go now. I don’t want anyone to see us talking together or I’ll be occupying one of Walden’s jail cells when you turn up missing.”
Faith’s smile was uncertain before nodding her head in agreement. “I will meet you after the sun goes down,” she whispered.
* * * * *
Royce had the horses saddled and waiting when Faith crept across the lawn. Long purple shadows hid her movements. Her heart was pounding so hard she was sure the entire town could hear it. She stopped at the edge of the corral and crawled through the fence. “Royce,” she called softly not seeing him standing in the shadows.
Royce moved out of the darkness. “I’ve saddled Hogan’s two geldings,” he explained. “I should be back before sunup. If I’m late I want Get-a-long found in his stall.”
“Father might not miss Mr. Hogan’s two horses right away,” Faith agreed. “You can have them back before questions are asked.”
“If the need arises I can turn the horses loose in the field behind the house,” Royce said soberly. He was second guessing his decision to send Faith with a message to Marshal Tinsley. If Barlow found out she would be killed.
“I want to help,” Faith said as if she could read Royce’s thoughts. She moved into his arms turning her face up to him, she waited for Royce’s kiss. She sighed contentedly when he took her into his arms and rested her head against his chest. “I’ve never been more than ten miles from Junction City,” she admitted softly. “At least not since I was a young girl,” she clarified. “I was born in Pennsylvania. I hardly remember the journey to Junction City.”
“Nervous about being on your own,” Royce asked marveling once again at Faith’s forthright manner. She was a woman who spoke her mind. Admitting she had doubts and yet willing to go anyway touched Royce’s heart.
“Some,” she said.
“Robby the stationmaster in Clear Creek is a friend of mine. He will look after you and see you get on the stage,” Royce said.
Faith did not reply. Royce needed her help and somehow she would find the courage to help him. That was what life was all about helping those you loved in times of need.
Royce lifted Faith onto her sidesaddle. Then, he strapped her small valise behind the saddle before mounting his horse. They rode west through the trees skirting the edge of Junction City before picking up the northbound road to Clear Creek. It was going to be a long tiring ride to reach their destination before the stage left town. A ride Royce hoped Faith was capable of making. He was unsure of her riding skills.
Faith used her small whip on her horse’s rump. The animal leaped in response. He had spent too many long days in the corral. Now free the animal was ready to run. Faith gripped the saddle horn with one hand while holding the reins in the other. She had no more use for her riding whip. The beat of horses’ hooves against the roadbed sounded loud contrasting with the night’s stillness.
Riding beside Faith, Royce watched her for signs of fatigue. Sitting straight in the saddle with her long skirts blowing in the wind Faith was gallantly beautiful. Moonlight shone off the sensible bonnet she wore. A scarf tied around her head to keep the bonnet in place and the wind off her face and neck. Her long coat was buttoned to the waist with the front falling open. Her long yellow dress gleamed pale in the moonlight.
“Are you warm enough,” Royce asked slowing his horse to a walk. Moonlight bathed the road in ghostly white. Bushes growing along both sides of the road looked like small dark specters. Wind whipped tree branches together making scraping sounds.
Faith shivered before replying, “Yes.” She turned her face to Royce. Moonlight dusted her features with silver light. Her lips formed a generous smile.
“Are you sure,” Royce asked doubt sounding in his voice.
“I’m warm enough,” Faith insisted. “I’m wearing a pair of longjohns and two flannel petticoats under my skirt.” She laughed, embarrassed over the admission. Yet, she did not want Royce to worry about her safety.
“Your feet,” Royce asked.
“Wool socks,” Faith replied, “Two pair.” She wiggled h
er toes inside her boots. This time she did laugh softly.
“Sensible girl,” Royce replied. He could not remember the last time he had met a beautiful woman that was also sensible. In his mind the two did not seem to fit together. “We will walk the horses for awhile,” Royce stated.
“You have not told me what I am to report to Marshal Tinsley,” Faith reminded. Her words snatched by the wind blew away before reaching Royce.
Royce rode his horse closer. He leaned in the saddle to study Faith’s upturned face before kissing her. Lingering over Faith’s lips while seconds ticked away. “That is better,” he whispered against her mouth.
“Mr. Hargadon,” Faith said breathlessly. She tingled right down to her toes believing she need not have bothered wearing longjohns after all. She was feeling overly heated. Her heart was doing funny little flips inside her chest.
“Is that the way it is to be,” Royce asked leaning from the saddle until his face was inches away from Faith’s moonlit features. He watched a multitude of feelings cross Faith’s beautiful face.
“You drag me off in the middle of the night without allowing me to tell my parents. The least you can do is keep your mind on business,” Faith snapped. Knowing if she was not careful she would be like putty in Royce’s hands. She was fearful of her reaction to his kiss. At the same time she was scolding Royce, Faith drew the tip of her tongue over her lips savory the taste left behind.
“You do that again I might forget why we are riding to Clear Creek,” Royce threatened. Faith whipped up her irritation and scowled at him. “Alright,” he conceded. He would never understand women. One moment Faith was purring in his arms and the next she was snapping his head off. “You mustn’t write anything down. Do you think you can remember what I tell you?”
“I will remember,” Faith promised. Wondering at the way her heart was hammering against her ribs. She swallowed before closing her mind to possibilities she had never before dreamed about. Royce was in danger and she must keep a clear head if she was to help him.
Royce started off by describing Marshal Tinsley to Faith. “You are not to talk to anyone else,” he cautioned. Faith nodded she understood. Then Royce gave a long list of reasons why he suspected Ferguson was Barlow. He did the same for each of the men he suspected being members of Frank Barlow’s gang.
Over the remaining ride to Clear Creek each time they walked the horses to give the animals rest Royce had Faith repeat his report. Reminding her of details she omitted. “You’re doing fine,” he praised when Faith became frustrated when she again made a mistake. “You’ve got the main details right. Don’t worry about the rest. Marshal Tinsley is smart enough to figure out what you omit without being told.”
“It seems unreal,” Faith admitted crossly. “These are men I thought I knew. Now, they seem more like strangers.”
“Deceit has that effect. It is one of the reasons being a lawman is often difficult. People don’t like to admit to being deceived. They would rather the Marshal be wrong in his assessment.”
Faith reached across the darkness and placed her hand on Royce’s arm. His warmth penetrated through her glove. “I will remember what you said,” Faith declared. “Forget what I thought I knew about these men and trust your judgment.”
“We are going to have a hard ride if we are to reach Clear Creek before the stage leaves,” Royce said. He did not have to say more.
Faith whipped her horse into setting a fast pace. “I will race you,” she shouted. The wind caught her words carrying them to Royce. The horse Faith rode was out front and the space lengthening that separated them.
Royce discovered he need not worry about Faith’s riding ability. She was a born horsewoman. The brown gelding she rode the better of Hogan’s two horses out paced the horse Royce rode.
Faith enjoyed her victory.
The town of Clear Creek was in darkness when they rode down the main road of town. Royce dismounted and flipped the reins over the hitching rail in front of the Stagecoach Station before helping Faith off the saddle.
The small building had a lamp lit in the office. A bell jingled when the door opened. “I will be right with you,” a voice called from the backroom.
Royce escorted Faith over to the potbellied stove. He held his hands out to the warmth. Faith took a chair placing it in front of the stove then set the toes of her boots against the iron apron. She was chilled to the bones. Her face tingled from the heat radiating from the stove.
“Yes,” the man dressed in shirt sleeves asked as he came into the office.
Royce walked over to the desk. “Robby,” he greeted.
“Hargadon! Bless my buttons,” the man replied. “What are you doing in Clear Creek? Come to make an arrest. I told Cal if he did not stop snorting Fire Water you would come along and throw him in the calaboose. When that Indian drinks he looses his head. The last time he shot up the saloon and chased poor Mrs. Dunn down the middle of the road howling he was going to scalp her. Took five men to pin Cal to the ground they locked him in Steward’s shed until he sobered up. Took more than two days to calm Mrs. Dunn’s fears she shut herself up in her house and wouldn’t come out. Mr. Dunn was right displeased over the matter. Said he was going to write Marshal Tinsley and have someone sent over to lock the crazy coot up.”
Royce smiled. He knew Cal had used the half breed on occasion to track down outlaws. “I didn’t come about Cal,” Royce stated. “Joe still driving the stage between here and Carrington City,” he asked.
“Sure. Best man I know when it comes to handling a team. Why do you ask,” Robby inquired.
“See that young woman,” Royce said with a nod of his head indicating Faith. “She is the future Mrs. Hargadon. I want Joe to see she gets safely to Headquarters. You tell him to guard her with his life.”
“You don’t say,” Robby replied his gray eyes growing wide. He looked Faith over with interest. “The future Mrs. Hargadon you say,” he whispered.
“I want you to see she gets on the stage safely. Tell Joe I will stake him out over an anthill if so much as one hair comes to harm.”
“Yes Sir,” Robby replied. “I will see to the matter.”
“I’ve got to get back,” Royce replied. Wishing this statement was untrue. He wanted to wait and put Faith on the four o’clock stage to Carrington City. He could not.
“Don’t you worry,” Robby said. “She will be safe with Joe.”
“Give us a minute alone,” Royce ordered.
The middle aged man grinned from ear to ear. So Marshal Hargadon had found him a woman at long last. Royce had dodged the bullet on more than one occasion as Robby well knew. Weren’t a year ago Widow Marsh had set her sights on Hargadon. Robby rubbed his chin wondering just how close the Marshal and Widow Marsh had gotten. Apparently not close enough.
Royce took Faith’s hand and pulled her to her feet. He wrapped one arm about her shoulders. “Robby will take good care of you,” he said, his mouth only inches from hers. He kissed Faith wanting to hold her forever in his arms.
“I will be alright,” Faith replied touching Royce’s cheek with her fingertips. She felt the roughness of his beard as she ran her hand over his chin. His green eyes glowed with hidden fire. “I love you,” she whispered.
Royce breathed deeply. “I love you,” he replied and kissed her again. “I have to start back.”
“Can’t you warm up first,” Faith asked cupping Royce’s cheek with one hand. “You’re still cold.”
“I wish I could,” Royce replied. “I will be hard pressed to get back to Junction City before classes start. If I am missed Walden will have me occupying one of his cells until Tinsley shows up. The good citizens of Junction City might decide to hang me first and ask questions afterwards.”
“Keep safe,” Faith bid him goodbye. Standing at the front window she watched Royce mount his horse. He waved before riding into the darkness.
Faith felt her heart skip a beat. She had noticed the gray pinch to Royce’s mouth. The way he h
eld his shoulder indicated he was in pain. He had hours of hard riding ahead of him. She stopped fussing over what she could not change and offered a silent prayer for his safety.
* * * * *
Amos Walden came to his feet hastily setting his coffee cup down on top of his desk. Imogen with tears streaming down her face looked at him with frightened eyes. “What has happened,” he asked. He wanted to take Imogen in his arms and comfort her remembering just in time Reverend Gaines’ presence in his office.
“My daughter is missing,” Reverend Gaines announced his voice crackling over the words.
“Daughter,” Walden asked looking at Imogen. “Which daughter are you talking about?”
“Faith is gone,” Imogen wailed wiping her eyes with the lace handkerchief she held. “Her bed has not been slept in.” She gulped for air her bosoms rising and falling in agitation.
“Faith is missing,” Walden asked hoping to clarify what Reverend Gaines was saying. It was not everyday a young woman disappeared. He wondered where to even start looking for Faith.
“That’s what I said,” Reverend Gaines recounted.
“Have you checked with her friends,” Walden asked.
Reverend Gaines scoffed at the idea. “Do you think Faith would go off with one of her friends without first telling either her mother or me! It is preposterous! I want that rascal Jim Cook arrested. I am sure he is behind Faith’s disappearance. You were a witness to his accosting my daughter on Wednesday after Mr. Hogan’s funeral. Faith said you escorted Mr. Cook to the door. He made threats I am sure.” Reverend Gaines shook one finger at Walden. His boney face ravaged by fear. “Just because I am a Minister does not mean I don’t know about men’s . . . well, men’s baser instincts. If Mr. Cook has harmed Faith I want to see him hanged. Do you hear me, hanged!” He glanced uncomfortably at Imogen. Why she had insisted on coming with them was beyond him. He could not talk freely about his fears. There were things a man did not say in front of a woman. Especially in front of an innocent daughter!