That first day, she’d mistaken Nolan’s silence for disinterest. His quiet manner disguised an intense watchfulness.
A melting warmth flowed through her. She’d been invisible for most of her life. She’d been invisible next to Eleanor’s beauty and accomplishments. She’d been an invisible member of her father’s working staff. For the first time in her life, she felt as though someone was actually seeing her, and not comparing her to something better.
Of course he wasn’t comparing her to anyone else—they were trapped in a deserted town. She mustn’t let herself read something more in to his concern. He was a kind man showing his good nature. She wasn’t special. Everything had turned to chaos, and her feelings were wrapped up in the dangerous situation the outlaws had created.
She’d never been much for childish fantasies. She knew the ways of the world. She wasn’t as beautiful as Eleanor. She hadn’t done her father proud by marrying one of his law clerks. Instead, she’d tried to be one of those law clerks. She’d discovered just how useful her services were to her father once the men came home from war.
Lightning flashed outside the window, and a sudden burst of rain pattered against the glass windowpanes.
“We should talk about what’s going to happen tomorrow,” Nolan said.
“Not here.”
Tilly cast a nervous glance at the door behind which the girls slept. If there was one thing she recalled from growing up, she and her sister had eavesdropped on more than one conversation to the complete ignorance of her father.
She tiptoed to the front door and angled her body. Snyder had slumped over, his pipe cold. He snored softly. The front awning didn’t offer much protection, and he’d be soaked to the bone soon. She let the door shut quietly behind her. Though it went against her natural Christian charity, she couldn’t bring herself to be concerned over the outlaw’s comfort.
“Out back,” she whispered.
Nolan followed her to the tiny back porch and together they huddled beneath the narrow overhang. He rubbed his bruised ribs.
“I’m so sorry,” Tilly said. “About what happened with the gun. They were watching us too closely. I thought if I could hide the gun outside, near the well, you’d have a better chance of retrieving it without them noticing. It was a foolish idea.”
“It wasn’t a dumb idea. You couldn’t have known what Charlie would do.”
“I think he plays the fool on purpose.” Despite the patter of rain, fireflies dotted the inky blackness. They sparkled over the tangle of blackberry bushes, the thorn-covered branches little more than dark shapes in the moonless night. “But he’s always watching us, isn’t he? He keeps track of everything.”
“Yes. Both him and his brother. Nothing gets past Dakota Red.”
“How do you think they crossed the river?”
“I don’t know. Maybe they crossed at night. Maybe they slipped out when the cavalry wasn’t watching. I’ve never put much stock in Captain Ronald’s leadership abilities.”
“He didn’t seem so bad.”
“Maybe.”
“Why don’t you like him? The captain?”
Nolan heaved a sigh, wincing at the movement. “He reminds me of someone.”
The silence stretched out for so long, she thought he’d finished speaking.
“Captain Ronald reminds me of someone I knew during the war,” Nolan said at last. “Not in looks, but in attitude. The man I knew was charming and slick, but that part of his personality was an act. He was a cruel man. Sadistic in his punishments.”
“That must have been horrible.”
“It was a long time ago.”
“Suffering seems to shorten the distance to our memories, don’t you think?”
“I suppose. We all suffered during the war, in one way or another.”
A pang of sadness settled in her chest. “I lost my cousin. We were the same age. We’d practically grown up together. How about you?”
“Most all the boys I went to school with lost their lives. I lived in Virginia. On the border. The war hit our town fast and hard. There isn’t much left of where I grew up.”
His voice was flat, yet she sensed a deep undercurrent of grief despite his emotionless recounting. “That must be difficult,” she replied.
“I don’t think about it much.”
A gust of wind blew of smattering of rain beneath the eve. Tilly shivered and crossed her arms over her chest.
“Wait here,” Nolan said.
He disappeared inside and returned a moment later with a canvas coat, then awkwardly draped the material over her shoulders.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
She tugged the collar tighter around her neck. Though early summer, the rain had dropped the temperature.
“What are we going to do tomorrow?” she asked. “The driver will know that we’re not married.”
“I’ve been thinking about that. The outlaws have to stay out of sight, which gives us the advantage. You hang back with the girls, and I’ll search the stagecoach. I’ll see if I can get a message to the driver.”
“Is that wise? What if you’re caught?” She glanced at his stomach, flinching as she recalled Snyder’s punishment. “The girls and I need you.”
He extended his hand and cupped her cheek. “Don’t worry, nothing will happen to me.”
She caught the slight cadence in his voice, and her eyes narrowed. There was something about his bearing that nagged at the edges of his consciousness. She recalled his slight flinch when she’d mentioned the war, and understanding finally dawned.
He was Southern.
She’d simply assumed he’d been on the northern side of the border, because that was what she wanted to believe. For a moment her mind rebelled at the thought. She’d resented the war, and the men who’d started the fighting. Selfishly, she’d resented the glimpse of a different life she’d been given. She begrudged having that chance stripped away.
Her nerves grew taut. The men holding them hostage were Southern, as well. They wanted what was coming to them, they wanted revenge on the Union army. Where did Nolan place his loyalties? Did he want his due, as Dakota Red had declared? If the outlaws forced him to choose, where would Nolan place his loyalties?
Yet he could have turned on them in the very beginning, and he hadn’t. There was no reason for him to switch his loyalties now.
As though seeking to form some sort of connection beyond the fear they shared, assuring herself of their shared allegiance, she placed her hand over his. They stared at each other for a long moment. There was so little she knew about this man. That first day she hadn’t given him much thought. He’d been a part of the passing scenery, someone she’d leave behind and never see again.
The outlaws had forced them into contact. The arrival of Dakota Red had changed the relationship between her and the stagecoach man. They were irrevocably united by the dangerous events. Even if she never saw him again after tomorrow, she sensed they’d always be linked by the events that had brought them together.
A second later he jerked away. She dropped her arm to her side, the warmth of his hand lingering on her fingertips.
“Whatever happens,” he said, “we’ll have to work together to stay alive.”
“I want to help, but I don’t know how I can.”
“Keep your eyes open, watch every move they make, and we’ll take our chance when we see it. We wait and we watch. In my experience, the more time a prison guard spends with a prisoner, the more he relaxes. That’s what we wait for. We watch for them to make a mistake.”
“You said, ‘in my experience.’” Her natural curiosity rose to the surface. “What sort of experience have you had with prisoners and guards?”
“Nothing of importance. Just, well, just trust me.”
She k
new instinctively that he was lying. He’d said the words too quickly, too easily. She recalled the tales of Andersonville and the other prisons in the South. The idea of someone living under those conditions sickened her. Yet certainly things had been different in the north? More humane. Either way, he clearly wasn’t interested in pursuing the subject, but his rebuff only raised her curiosity. All at once she was eager to know more about this man, more about his experiences and his life before Pyrite.
Tilly took a step back and squinted into the darkness. There was a flaw in his plan that neither of them had addressed.
“What if the gold is on the stagecoach tomorrow?” she asked. “What then? We have to at least consider the possibility.”
“I hadn’t thought that far ahead.” Nolan ducked his head. “If you and the girls have a chance to escape, take it. I can look out for myself. If that happens, I’ll buy as much time as I can for you.”
Though he hadn’t said the words, the undercurrent of his meaning was obvious. He’d sacrifice himself for them. Her chest tightened. What sort of man sacrificed himself for strangers? A good man.
Ceaseless worry had taken its toll, and her head throbbed. She rubbed her temples. “We can only pray.”
“Yes.”
The rain grew heavier, chasing away the fireflies. She gazed sightlessly into the distance, unexpectedly soothed by the relentless patter. “Are you scared?”
“Yes.”
The breath whooshed from her lungs. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
Her eyes burned. “For being honest. I’m scared, too.”
“I should have told you to run as soon as I saw those men,” he said. “I should have done something sooner.”
“We wouldn’t have gotten far. You did the right thing. You were outnumbered. The girls and I didn’t exactly help. Miss Elizabeth is as slippery as a buttered pig sometimes.”
He chuckled, the sound hollow and humorless. “Not to mention her insatiable taste for blackberries.”
“I don’t know how Eleanor has managed all these years.”
Tilly scrubbed at her face. Taking care of the girls these past few days had given her a new appreciation for the challenges Eleanor faced, especially now that she was widowed. Her sister was always so brisk and efficient. Did she ever have doubts?
Nolan crossed his arms and leaned his shoulder against the railing post. “Your sister is fortunate to have your help.”
Tilly snorted. “I doubt Eleanor would agree with you.”
Despite the odd juxtaposition of her worries, she couldn’t shake the truth that had been nagging at her since her arrival in Virginia City.
Nolan frowned. “I don’t follow.”
“Eleanor is perfect. I have never lived up to her standards.”
“No one is perfect. Everyone fails at something. Failure is simply the law of humanity.”
“That almost makes it worse, you know?” Tilly unleashed the truth she’d been avoiding on some level her whole life. “Because if someone as perfect and accomplished as Eleanor fails, how does someone like me stand a chance at succeeding?”
Chapter Six
Nolan flipped open the cover of his watch and checked the time. With the arrival of the next stagecoach, all their lives hung in the balance. If he gave in to the fear, he’d be lost. Instead, he channeled his emotion into a cold, focused rage.
Beneath the watchful gaze of Dakota Red and his two cronies, he hitched the team for the change of horses. The bugle call sounded, and he returned the signal with a slight change in the cadence. It was a small thing, but if he added several of them together, the driver might get suspicious.
He adjusted one of the buckles and surreptitiously checked his pocket. He’d written out a note. Delivering the message was a long shot, but had to grasp any opportunities that were presented, however slight.
Dakota Red hooked his leg over the stall door and perched on the top rung. “Did I ever tell you that Charlie was a sharpshooter?”
“Nope,” Nolan replied shortly.
“Considers himself one of the better shots this side of Ohio.”
“You don’t say.”
“He’s got his rifle trained on your woman.”
Nolan tensed. “I see.”
“I thought you might. The next hour is going to be special for you and me. We’re building trust, you and I. The kind of trust I don’t have with them other two fellows.”
Nolan slanted a glance at the fugitive. “Isn’t Charlie your brother?”
“We have the same father, yes. Which makes us kin, but I don’t trust ol’ Charlie as far as I can see him. That boy has a wild head on his shoulders. Sometimes he’s as calm as a church on Sunday, other times he’s as wild as a mountain pass in spring.”
“Then why do you run with him?”
“The same reason I busted Snyder out of jail. Sometimes a fellow needs someone who ain’t afraid of bending the law. A fellow in my position needs someone who ain’t afraid to make the hard choices. Like following through on a promise to kill a woman if I give him the signal.”
“You’ve made your point.”
The outlaw leaped from his perch and slapped Nolan on the shoulder. “I like you. You seem like a real honorable fellow. What are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere?”
Nolan’s suspicions flared. The outlaw was testing him, but he didn’t know why. “I have my reasons.”
“Couldn’t figure you out at first. I mean, your wife ain’t much to look at.”
Anger simmered beneath the surface of Nolan’s feigned calm. “I knew you were stupid, I didn’t know you were blind, too.”
“Don’t get your back up, let me finish. I couldn’t figure out what Charlie was looking at, but she grows on you. Those eyes are real pretty, and her hair is nice.”
“Not another word about my wife,” Nolan replied, his voice husky with barely suppressed rage.
“You’re not much for talking, are you?”
“Nope.”
The rumble of hoofbeats ended their conversation.
Grateful for the distraction, Nolan slapped the reins against the horse’s rumps and drove them from the side of the livery to the middle of the street. As the Concord rounded the last bend, he caught sight of the driver, and his spirits lifted.
Rintoon was one of the best mule skinners in the territory. He was ramrod-thin and carried his lanky body in a rolling gait, as though his joints were only loosely connected within his slim frame.
The old mule skinner was as tough as leftover stew meat, and wouldn’t be easily fooled by lies. The trick was delivering his message without alerting one of the outlaws. Charlie was sitting on a hair trigger, and Nolan wasn’t risking Tilly’s life. He understood full well what these men were capable of, and he wasn’t pushing them.
When Rintoon drew up his team, Nolan called, “Where’s your outrider?”
The driver jerked his thumb over one shoulder. “Busted his arm two stops back. I’m looking to pick up Bill for my next run.”
Nolan rapidly calculated the meaning of that seemingly innocuous statement. If Rintoon was traveling without an outrider, this wasn’t the stagecoach carrying the gold. Captain Ronald wasn’t real smart, but he wasn’t an idiot, either. He’d never send the gold unaccompanied.
Nolan considered his options. Setting his plan into motion was going to be tricky, but at least they weren’t confronted with the more immediate problem of what happened after the gold was lifted.
If Nolan failed to deliver his message, he and Tilly had another day or two to plan an escape.
“Sorry to hear about your outrider,” Nolan said. “Bill’s a good man. He’ll do you right. You carrying passengers?”
“No passengers today, just mail.”
&
nbsp; Nolan’s tension eased another notch. Not even Captain Ronald would ship the gold on a stagecoach without a guard. Another reason to assume this wasn’t the right coach.
Nolan quickly scrambled for his next move. Since Rintoon was vulnerable without an outrider, enlisting his help would be suicide for the driver. And if the tough mule skinner caught wind of their circumstances, he was liable to try something foolish and get himself killed.
“What’s for supper?” Rintoon called. “Let me guess. Boiled beans, bacon and bread.”
“Yep.”
“We should call this stop the three Bs. You oughta get yourself a woman up here to do a little cooking.”
“About that.” Nolan kept his expression neutral, and sketched a glance at the livery door. Dakota Red was too far away to hear their conversation, but he wasn’t taking any chances. “I’ve got passengers staying here for a few days.”
Rintoon hoisted his eyebrows in question. “How’d that happen?”
“Long story.”
“I’ll bet.”
Nolan didn’t provide an explanation, and the crusty old mule skinner didn’t ask. That was the benefit of dealing with some of these old-timers. They weren’t much interested in anything beyond their next meal and their next paycheck.
The two set about switching the teams. Once they’d finished, they started for the house.
Rintoon paused at the corral. “Them your horses?”
“Yep.”
Any explanations he made would only make the man more suspicious.
“You oughta feed them animals more,” Rintoon said. “They’re showing ribs.”
Nolan grunted his reply. He and Rintoon had always gotten along well, and the mule skinner knew that Nolan cared for his animals. There was always hope that he’d put the pieces together later, and realize something didn’t fit. Lengthy explanations only drew attention to discrepancies, and it was too soon for Rintoon to know all the details. The old man might try something foolish. The less said, the better.
They stepped inside the relay station, and the driver caught sight of Tilly.
Rintoon quickly doffed his hat. “Ma’am.”
A Temporary Family Page 7