‘Who’s going to be having the imaginary jewels delivered?’ Robinson asked.
‘I’ve never seen either of you two wearing much jewelry,’ Jenny remarked. ‘So, it had better be me. Some jewels that I left in the bank in Denver, that I’m having sent out now I’m settled here. One of the girls, probably Sandy, can let this slip to him when she’s entertaining him on his next visit. If the outlaws attack, we know they were tipped off by Millard.’
‘That sounds like it could work,’ Jonah said thoughtfully. ‘But you could be putting yourself at some risk, if you’re on the stage. You haven’t actually lost anything to Millard, and Louise said she’s not interested in revenge. I don’t think you should take the risk.’
Jenny gave him a dark look. ‘You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do. If we’re right about what Millard’s been doing, he’s a scumbag, low-down criminal, and he needs to be stopped, along with the outlaws he’s had working for him. I don’t want crime happening here any more than any other citizen does. You know I’ve been in a fire-fight before, and that I know what I’m getting myself into. You two can’t tackle half a dozen outlaws on your own; you’re going to need someone else who can handle a gun, just as you did when we went to rescue Sandy. I’m going to be on that stage, escorting my jewels, with at least one of my girls. I’ll ask Erica. It will be entirely voluntary, but I think she’ll agree.’
Robinson looked at Jonah. ‘She makes a good point.’
Jonah sighed. ‘I guess I can’t stop you, but I’ve said my piece.’ He smiled. ‘I can’t think of a man I’d rather have along when it gets tough.’
Robinson raised an eyebrow. ‘I feel vaguely insulted.’
Jonah laughed. ‘All right, let’s get to planning this.’
Millard was a little disappointed when he came home the following evening, and Mary wasn’t in the hall to greet him. He guessed that she was in the kitchen, overseeing the cook’s work, and headed for the parlour. His daughters were all there, as beautiful as ever in their lovely dresses with the lamplight glittering from their jewels. Amethyst promptly dropped her book and raced over to greet him, uninhibited by her mother’s presence. Millard stooped and picked her up, whirling her around in delighted giggles. As he put her down again, he noticed that Opal and Pearl were arguing.
‘I don’t see why you should care that he’s gone,’ Pearl was saying. ‘He only danced with you once. I danced with him twice.’
‘I don’t care, so there,’ Opal retorted, tossing her hair. ‘I’m going to Denver soon with Mamma and I’ll find a better husband than Jonah Durrell.’
‘You won’t find a more handsome one.’
‘Neither will you, especially now he’s gone to Telluride. . . .’
‘Now, girls. Don’t argue, and over men. You know your mother wouldn’t like it. She’d say it’s common,’ Millard interrupted.
Opal immediately collected herself and smiled sweetly at her father: Pearl stuck her tongue out quickly at her sister before turning and sitting down. Opal came and kissed Millard on the cheek by way of greeting.
‘Thank you for letting me go to Denver, Papa,’ she said breathlessly. ‘It’s just too-too exciting. I’m in a mad whirl about it all. There’s so much to get ready!’
‘That’s all right, my dear,’ Millard said. ‘I’m sure your mother will cope splendidly.’
Opal moved to sit opposite Pearl, giving her sister a triumphant look that was missed by Millard as he had crossed to speak to Ruby, sitting at the table. She looked up from her history book with a smile.
‘Still studying?’ Millard asked. ‘You should take a break.’
‘Oh, Papa, I do want go to school,’ she beseeched. ‘It’s so hard to keep up with lessons when we keep moving, and this town doesn’t even have a school yet.’
‘You can read and write and figure, and I’m sure you know as much history as I do,’ Millard told her, putting his hand on her shoulder. ‘You don’t need a fancy education to catch a husband and you won’t need it when you’re married.’
‘But, Papa.’ Ruby pouted. ‘I want to learn. Besides,’ she added, changing tactics slightly, ‘a successful businessman might not want a wife who doesn’t know anything about anything except the latest styles. Some rich people like salons, where they speak French and talk about books. Don’t you think I’d be better suited to that kind of a husband?’
Millard reflected while Ruby continued to gaze hopefully at him with blue eyes, so like her mother’s.
‘Going to boarding school would be a big step,’ he mused. ‘You’d be away from home for months at a time.’
‘Yes!’ Ruby just managed to moderate her reply so it didn’t sound too enthusiastic. ‘Please, Papa. If I’m at school, Mama can spend more of her time fixing up Opal and Pearl without needing to concern herself with me. Once they are married, I will have grown up some, and it will be my turn.’ She smiled sweetly and did her best to look keen about her future marriage.
Millard gently brushed his hand across her head. ‘I’ll speak to your mother,’ he promised. ‘Now put your books away; it’s almost time for dinner.’
The look of genuine gratitude went straight to his heart. Dear Ruby didn’t really ask for much and he wanted to be able to give her something she so clearly longed for. Sending her to a decent school would be another expense though, on top of sending Opal to Denver. Business had gone well so far in Motherlode but with his daughters growing up, he seemed to be juggling money as much as ever. He wanted to have a nice, sound nest-egg for his retirement by the time little Amethyst left home, and there would be grandchildren to provide for in the future. Millard settled in his favourite armchair and watched Opal at her tatting while daydreaming about his future grandchildren.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
‘Well, I’ve had a nice day out,’ Erica said. ‘It’s nice to see another town and look at some different shops.’
Robinson, sitting opposite her and beside Jenny inside the stagecoach on the trail back from Silverton to Motherlode, looked at her curiously. Erica smiled back, eyes amused.
‘Nothing may happen, in which case it’s been a nice day,’ she said. ‘If the bandits do attack and people get hurt, well it’s in a good cause and at least we’ve had the pleasure of the outing beforehand.’
When planning the trap for Millard’s outlaws, there had been some discussion about who should travel where. Obviously, Jenny and Erica would travel in the stage, with the imaginary jewels. Robinson had travelled to Silverton the day before, rather than in the morning with the women, so he wouldn’t necessarily be expected to return with them. Jonah had returned to Silverton from Telluride late the night before and had stayed out of sight. He preferred the flexibility of horseback travel to joining the others in the stage, but had hired a brown, instead of his distinctive grey, and changed his usual hat for a lower, wide-brimmed one. He was riding close behind the stagecoach, where he would be harder for the outlaws to see from their likely ambush positions.
‘If Millard is behind these robberies, I bet it’s his wife who has been encouraging him,’ Jenny commented. ‘She’s got ambition written all over her.’
‘She may think Lady Macbeth is an inspiring example, yeah?’ Robinson suggested.
Erica chuckled. ‘If you mentioned Lady Macbeth to her, she’d probably assume she was one of Queen Victoria’s ladies-in-waiting.’
The laughter lightened the mood. Conversation continued for a while, but as the stage got closer to the site of the previous attack, the people waiting inside became quiet. Robinson was the first to pick up a weapon, checking over his borrowed shotgun, then settling it with the muzzle carefully pointed towards the door. The women shortly followed his example. The strained silence lasted a couple of minutes.
‘I shall feel an awful fool if nothing happens,’ Erica said, with a tight smile.
‘There’s no one but us to see, and we’re doing the same thing, yeah?’ Robinson said. ‘If we reach. . . .’
The gunshot made
them all jump. It was followed by a shout demanding that the stagecoach halt. The three passengers braced themselves as the swaying coach lurched to a stop. Jenny and Robinson unlatched the doors, but held them closed while looking out. Pairs of armed bandits were now approaching the stage on foot from either side, while a fifth man held the horses.
‘Now!’ Jonah’s command from behind the stage, was quiet but firm.
Robinson and Jenny flung their doors open and jumped out. Jenny stayed behind her door, using the small amount of shelter it provided as she brought her rifle smoothly to her shoulder, aiming through the glassless window. Jonah ran out from behind the coach to support her, the matched Smith and Wessons in hand. On the other side, Robinson landed awkwardly and lurched forward, trying to catch his balance and aim his shotgun at the same time. Behind him, Erica swung out neatly and took up the same position as Jenny.
‘Surrender!’ shouted Jonah. ‘Throw down your weapons!’
There was a moment’s confusion among the outlaws. Of the two facing Robinson, one glanced across to the other group, seeking guidance; the second lifted his gun, unsure which target to aim at.
‘Get the men!’ yelled the leader, aiming for Jonah.
Blasts of gunfire erupted in the quiet valley. Robinson instinctively went for the outlaw who was raising his gun. The man jerked once, screaming, then again as Erica’s shot hit him. Blood sprayed from the two shotgun wounds as he collapsed. Robinson froze momentarily, gaping at the moaning, torn figure on the ground. He’d seen shootings before, and as he’d told Jonah, he’d fought Comanches some ten years earlier, but this was the first time he’d shot a white man himself. Killing a man who looked and dressed like himself, and who spoke the same language, was not the same as killing an unknowable outsider like a Comanche.
As he hesitated, the second man turned and fled. The sudden movement jerked Robinson back to the present. He stepped sideways to get a better angle, changing the aim of his shotgun. As his mind began to catch up with the action again, he abruptly realized his mistake, even as he heard fluent cursing from behind, delivered in the most cut-glass English accent. Robinson hurriedly returned to his previous place, clearing Erica’s line of sight to the fleeing man. By this time, the outlaw was level with the lead horses and too close to them to risk a shot. Erica emerged from behind the stagecoach door, glaring at Robinson and using language completely at odds with her lady-like tones.
On the other side of the stagecoach, Jonah fired both handguns. He missed the outlaw leader, who ducked aside after yelling for his men to attack. He couldn’t tell if his other shot hit, as Jenny fired at the second outlaw at the same time. The short man screamed, staggering back as he tried to stay on his feet. The leader fired, hitting nothing so far as Jonah could tell.
‘Surrender!’ Jonah yelled again. He stepped sideways while bringing both guns to bear on the leader.
He saw the man’s eyes focus above the bandanna mask, knew he was going to shoot, and twisted aside, shooting as he moved. The leader fired back as he flung himself to the ground. There was a sudden confusion of shots: handguns and Jenny’s rifle. There was a yell of pain from someone he couldn’t see, and a sudden exclamation from Jenny that made his heart race. The injured outlaw was yelling and cursing as he let off shots towards the stage. Jonah fired one gun at him, noticing that the leader was scrambling to his feet but turning away. Ducking back and forth, Jonah fired a couple more shots to cover himself as he glanced in Jenny’s direction.
She was still behind the open door of the stage and apparently unharmed, as she was aiming her rifle through the open window again. As Jonah turned his attention back to the bandits, she fired, this time sending the injured man to the ground. The leader had made his feet and was running to the man with the horses, who was advancing to meet him. Jonah fired at the leader but was distracted by the stage guard, who was shrieking in pain. He wanted to catch the outlaws, but they were clearly retreating, and his conscience was urging him to tend to the guard who had been injured in a trap he hadn’t known he’d been a part of. Making a quick decision, Jonah took a shot at the fleeing leader. He missed, but one of the horses shied as the bullet zipped past, almost pulling loose from the man holding the reins.
A third outlaw appeared from the other side of the stage horses. He fired a couple of shots at Jonah, as he ran to join the other two. Jonah weaved about, making himself a harder target, as the smell of black powder sharpened the air. He took one shot in return and heard the bark of Jenny’s rifle. One of the outlaws’ horses screamed and bucked. The outlaws were throwing themselves into their saddles, hanging on as their mounts danced about. The horse holder had released one of the spares and it galloped towards Jonah, its eyes wild. He dodged sideways to avoid it and collided with Jenny, who had moved out from the shelter of the stagecoach.
Both staggered as the horse thundered past. Jonah caught his balance and looked at Jenny.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked.
‘Fine.’ She spoke loudly to be heard over the shrieks of the injured guard and the pounding of hoofs as the outlaws fled. Her eyes were bright and she was breathing heavily, but otherwise she seemed to be composed in the aftermath of the fight.
‘Good.’ He flashed her a smile before turning his attention back to business.
The three surviving outlaws were racing away, heading towards Motherlode. Jonah approached the man Jenny had shot. The short outlaw was on the ground, moaning softly and shuddering, but Jonah remained cautious, glad that Jenny was close by with her rifle at the ready. As Jonah knelt to examine him more closely, there was a shout from the front of the stage.
‘Hey! Leave that scum! Tom needs help urgent-like.’
Jonah looked up at the stage driver, who had the wailing guard slumped against him. He picked up the outlaw’s dropped Colt and rose to hand it to Jenny, saying softly;
‘Anyone making that much noise probably isn’t hurt too bad.’
As he moved closer to the stage, Robinson came around from the other side to join them.
‘We shot one man, but the other desperado escaped, yeah?’ he reported.
‘Is Erica all right?’ Jenny asked.
Robinson nodded. ‘Oh, yes. She was most calm in the event of. . . .’
Jonah interrupted him. ‘Give me a hand to get this man down so’s I can tend to him.’
‘Oh, certainly.’ Enthusiasm was replaced with concern as Robinson paid attention to the still-wailing guard. Putting his shotgun down, he went to help.
The injured man was carefully helped down and laid beside the trail. He continued to moan and wail as Jonah pulled open his jacket and examined him. The clothes on the right-hand side of his chest were soaked with blood.
‘Hold still,’ Jonah ordered as he started cutting the sticky shirt open with his knife.
‘I’m dying, I’m dying,’ the guard moaned. ‘My chest hurts so bad.’ He turned his head towards Jenny. ‘Oh, say a prayer for me, pretty lady. Oww!’ He squawked as Jonah pressed against his chest.
Jonah inspected the wound again. ‘Broken rib, I reckon. The lung’s not punctured. The bullet grazed your side and glanced off the rib. A few stitches and some bandages and you’ll feel much better. Be all fixed in a few weeks.’
The wounded guard glared at him. ‘I’m hurt bad! What in hell do you know about medicine, manhunter?’
‘More than you do,’ Jonah retorted, unperturbed. ‘Now quit wailing like a baby; we’ve got work to do here and there’s three sorry outlaws headed back to town we need to catch up with.’
Robinson and Jenny checked on the injured outlaw. He was unconscious, his breathing shallow and irregular.
‘I doubt if there’s any practical way of aiding him now,’ Robinson said. He studied the short man for a few moments, then pulled down the bandanna that still concealed his features. ‘I do believe this is the one who attacked Miss Louise; Brewster, his name is.’
‘I didn’t feel that bad for shooting him,’ Jenny said. �
��And less so now. He’s the kind that thinks he has the right to do what he wants with a woman and he likes to brag on it too. I bet Louise isn’t the only one he’s raped.’
‘We should at least make him comfortable in his last moments, yeah?’ Robinson said. He used Brewster’s own bandanna to wipe blood from the man’s mouth. ‘Taking a person’s life is a serious business,’ he mused. ‘He chose to commit dreadful crimes, and he would have shot any of us to protect himself, but when you see someone dying in front of you, from your bullets, I can’t help wondering if I had the right to take that life away.’ He glanced over at Jonah. ‘This experience will make an excellent topic for my letters to the New-York Tribune about Jonah. I must ask him. . . .’
His flow of thought was interrupted by Erica, appearing from the other side of the stage. She hurried towards them with a triumphant expression.
‘He confessed!’ she announced. ‘The man we shot. He was barely conscious, but he was cursing and blaming someone for betraying them. I asked who it was and he said Millard. Millard paid them to rob his stagecoaches.’
‘That’s excellent news,’ beamed Robinson.
‘Is he still alive?’ Jenny asked urgently.
Erica shook her head. ‘He died a few moments ago.’
‘Damn.’ Jenny looked at the others. ‘The confession’s worthless then. There was only one witness and remember what Marshal Tapton said when we brought those thieves in? No jury’s going to take a woman’s word over a man’s, especially if she’s a prostitute. Millard will simply deny everything.’
Erica’s face fell. ‘You’re right. Nothing would happen to him and I’d be humiliated. It’s so unfair!’ she burst out. ‘We risked our lives to set this up, and that poor guard got injured. We know Millard is responsible for the thefts, but we still have no way of adequately proving it. We’re no better off than we were before.’
There was a short silence after her emphatic statement.
‘We’ve accomplished one thing,’ Jenny said. She indicated the dying outlaw. ‘That’s the piece of scum who raped Louise. He’ll never hurt anyone else.’
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