by Anna Schmidt
And then he saw Rudy Stock and his mother—and Sam. They had taken his brother hostage and moved through the alley toward the rear of the train. Every muscle in Seth’s body tightened. He thought of the promise he’d given his mother to make sure Sam was safe, and yet here he sat—helpless to do anything but watch as his brother was used as a shield.
“Ellie, could you get me some water, please?” He intentionally made his voice weak and clutched his bandaged side when the girl turned to look at him.
“It’s empty,” she said, holding up the pitcher and glass.
Seth was aware that he had drunk the last of the water. “Please?”
“I’ll get some.”
“Use the bathroom sink,” he called as she started from the room. “And let it run so it’s cold. I feel like my throat is on fire.”
She hesitated, glancing at the window with a worried frown.
“I’ll keep watch,” he promised, and lifted the binoculars to make the point.
As soon as she was through the door, Seth struggled to his feet, thankful that he’d insisted on Jess helping him dress before he took his place in the chair by the window. He pulled on his boots, grimacing at the shots of pain that ricocheted through him with every movement. He grabbed his gun from the holster, tucked it into the waistband of his wool trousers, and stepped into the hallway. He could hear the water running and the clang of the metal pitcher as Ellie tried to fit it under the spigot. Holding onto the bannister for support, he hurried down the stairs, paused for a minute at the foot to catch his breath, and then opened the front door.
The difference between the shadowy light of his room and the bright sunlight took some getting used to. A wave of dizziness threatened to overpower him, and it took a full minute before the figures gathered around the station took solid form. He glanced from the crowd to the side street, where he could see Rudy’s mother prodding Sam forward, while Rudy followed close behind, pulling a cart loaded with two valises. The three slipped behind the caboose, and he lost sight of them.
Seth made his way to the cover of the awning outside the drugstore and waited. The band struck up a tune as the train rolled to a stop. Everyone waited. Seth watched for Amanda to appear as planned. Once he knew she was safely out of harm’s way, he would raise the alarm by firing his gun, knowing Jess and the soldiers would take action. But when she didn’t step onto the platform, he saw Judge Ellis disappear into the shadows and then reappear a moment later, looking befuddled.
Seth pulled his gun from his waistband and limped around the back of the train, where he saw Rudy Stock had shoved Sam aside and grabbed Amanda.
Mrs. Rosewood pulled off the large hat meant to serve as part of Amanda’s disguise, and when Sam tried to come to Amanda’s aid, Rudy struck him with the butt of his pistol. The boy dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes.
The duo—with Rudy half-carrying Amanda—boarded the first car. Because the blinds had all been pulled on the other cars to disguise the presence of the soldiers, those men had no way of knowing that the Stocks were on the unprotected one. If Rudy and his mother barricaded themselves in that car, they would have control of the train—and they would have Amanda.
Seth hobbled down the alley, where Sam was trying to get to his feet once again. “You okay, kid?” he asked as he stopped to be sure his brother wasn’t seriously hurt. He turned at the sound of footsteps and saw Jim Matthews coming his way.
“I’ll take care of him!” he shouted, heading straight for Sam. “The train’s moving out.”
Sure enough, the train rolled forward, and as it did, Seth saw shades raised in the rear cars, even as soldiers dressed in street clothes stepped onto connecting platforms to find out what had gone wrong. He ran alongside as the train gathered speed, his ankle feeling like it was on fire. An officer leaned down and offered him his hand, and with a mighty tug, swung Seth onto the train.
As they rolled past the station and confused onlookers, Seth could still hear the musicians playing. And as he shouted to be heard above the rush of wind and the noise of the train, he fought for enough air to make it from one breath to the next.
It was a losing battle. The officer helped him inside the rear car to a seat where Jess glared at him as if this was his fault. Then he saw blood staining the bandages wrapped around his torso and shoulder.
* * *
The minute Rudy dropped her on the floor and headed toward the locomotive, Amanda glared at Rudy’s mother, who was making herself comfortable in a plush seat just inside the door. “You won’t get away with this,” she challenged.
The widow, who had seemed such a timid soul during their time together in the boardinghouse, laughed. “Honey, we already have.” She raised the shade and nodded to the passing scenery outside.
The train was moving. Amanda saw the stunned faces of Ollie and Miss Dooley and Addie as the train chugged out of the station. She bolted for the door, only to be stopped by Rudy.
“Everything under control up front, son?” Mrs. Rosewood nodded toward the door that led to the engine.
Rudy grinned. “Yes, ma’am. Amazing what a handful of gold coins will buy you these days.” Without pausing for further conversation, and dragging Amanda with him, he moved quickly to the back of the car, where he used an iron rod to barricade the door. Then he tied Amanda’s wrists so that she stood stretched in the aisle between two rows of seats near the back, closest to the door that led to the rear cars.
“Let’s see what them soldier boys do when they come rushing through that there door and see you standing smack dab in their line of fire.” He was giddy, clearly assuming he and his mother had won.
Having secured her, he retrieved the two valises he had heaved onto the platform after shoving Amanda to her knees. She could see how heavy they were and assumed they did not contain clothing. He placed them on the floor near his mother and collapsed on the seat next to her. Like a little boy exhausted from a long day of play, he rested his head on her shoulder as she stroked his cheek.
Amanda rolled her eyes and forced her attention on the door. Think.
She had not seen Jess among the passing faces of the crowd. Was it possible he had boarded the train? Was it possible that even now he was planning her rescue? She tried to see through the soot-covered glass of the connecting doors. She could see movement but not really make out individuals. The soldiers had their orders, and unless someone had seen the Stocks take her hostage, or maybe if Sam had been able to sound the alarm, or maybe if…
She stared harder at the silhouettes beyond the glass. Two men, clearly in a heated discussion. Two men whose body movements she knew all too well. Jess. And Seth! Oh please, stop arguing and think, she silently pleaded. She watched as a man in uniform stepped between them. Then she saw them peer through the glass, trying to see into the car where she was held captive. Jess wiped away soot with the sleeve of his shirt, then a minute later the door opened, and her brother and Seth stepped onto the platform.
No! Go back! She glanced over her shoulder—mother and son were still comfortably enjoying the ride, oblivious to her or whatever might be happening in the rear cars. They were confident they had won, and that made Amanda furious.
She tried her best to communicate with Seth and Jess through sign language, tilting her head to make them see she was tied, trying to maintain her balance as the train picked up speed, and then looking over her right shoulder toward the outlaws in the front seat. All she could do was pray they understood her signals.
Relieved when Seth and Jess returned to the other car, she turned her focus to escape. Sweat rolled down her neck, back, and arms. Her gown was stifling, and the energy it took to keep her balance in the moving car only added to her exertion. But then she realized she could use her discomfort to her advantage. Slowly, so she did not attract attention, she twisted and pulled, allowing the dampness of her skin to moisten the rope binding her
wrists.
A flicker of movement caught her eye, and she saw Jess exit then climb to the roof of the car she occupied. Not three seconds later, Seth followed. She wanted to protest. He was in no shape for such exertion. He could fall. They could both be killed.
“Whatcha looking at, girlie?”
She hadn’t heard Rudy leave his seat. For a big man, he was surprisingly agile. Realizing she had nearly succeeded in freeing one hand, she quickly shoved it forward so the ropes would appear secure. “Could we possibly open a window?” she asked.
Rudy ignored her and glanced at the car behind them and grinned. “Looks like those soldier boys don’t quite know what to do, Ma.”
Amanda could see the soldiers milling about. Occasionally, one would come to the glass and peer through. Rudy pulled out his pistol. “Can I shoot, Ma?”
“Put that thing away.”
“Aw, Ma, it would be like shooting fish in a barrel for sure.” But he slid the pistol back in its holster. “I’ll go check on the engineer. Seems like we’re slowing down some.”
“There’s a tunnel,” Amanda volunteered.
“Good thing them boys back there have realized you’re standing in their way, then,” Rudy said. “It would be a real shame if they decided to start shooting in the dark of the tunnel.” He grabbed Amanda’s face with one beefy hand and forced her to look at him. “That would be a damn shame, girlie, ’cause when this is over…? Ma says you’re all mine, and I got plans—I got plans you can’t imagine.”
He was close enough that she could smell his fetid breath and see his bloodshot eyes. Amanda did the first thing that came to mind. She spat in his ugly, pock-scarred face.
Rudy moved his hand to her throat and squeezed. She couldn’t breathe, and all she could think was that she didn’t want to die.
“Rudy!” Mrs. Rosewood snapped. “We’ve no time for that.”
The outlaw loosened his grip but did not release her as she gasped for air.
“I’m gonna take my time, girlie, and when it’s over, you’re gonna wish I had finished you now.” He gave her a shove that served to loosen the ropes as he stalked toward the front of the car. “I’ll go check on the engineer now,” he muttered again, as he passed his mother standing in the aisle.
“What’s happening back there?” she asked, standing and staring down the aisle, as she pointed in the direction of the car behind them.
“I don’t know,” Amanda lied. “I think they’re confused—disorganized.” Please come closer, Amanda silently pleaded. She had loosened the ropes enough so that both hands were free.
Just as they entered the tunnel, shots rang out from the front of the train. Mrs. Rosewood turned her back to Amanda, and seeing her chance, Amanda shoved the older woman to the floor and fell on top of her. Behind her she heard glass breaking as soldiers stormed through the barricaded door.
“No!” she shouted, afraid they might trample her in their zeal to do their duty.
“Hold your fire,” she heard the officer command.
For an instant, everything stopped, and as the train emerged into daylight, Amanda turned to see half a dozen soldiers standing by the rear door as Mrs. Rosewood struggled beneath her.
Amanda ignored her as another shot rang out from the front. “Go!” she shouted to the officer. “I’ve got this.” To prove her point, she grabbed the loosened ropes and used them to hog-tie the woman—always Mrs. Rosewood to her.
Clearly impressed, the officer directed his men to climb over the seats as they made their way forward. She stood to watch them go just as Jess came through the door.
“Stock shot the engineer and fireman, then turned on Seth and me. He got off a second round before I killed him, but we’ve got a bigger problem.” Wild-eyed, he surveyed the men before him. “Anybody here know how to stop this train? Otherwise, the way that steam is building up, the thing’s gonna explode.” He dropped onto one of the seats, clutching his arm. Blood oozed from a wound above his temple.
Amanda pushed her way forward. “You’ve been shot.”
“It’s nothing.” He pressed his hands to his head. “We’ve got to move everybody to the back or jump. Seth is…he was…” His eyelids fluttered as he passed out.
“You heard my brother,” she said. “Help him, so we can all move to the rear.”
When the soldiers gathered to tend to Jess, she slipped through the forward door and onto the platform, where she stopped. Below her the ground whipped by as the train rocked precariously from side to side. Between her and the locomotive was the tender. She had to get to Seth before the train ran off the tracks and crashed, or exploded as Jess had predicted.
She reached for the ladder on the tender. Behind her she saw soldiers carrying Jess and Mrs. Rosewood toward the back of the train. Clearly, no one had yet realized she wasn’t with them.
Because her gown was weighing her down, she pulled off the skirt and let the wind carry it away. She did the same with her petticoat and, dressed in pantaloons and the top half of the brocade gown, she pulled herself up the five steps of the ladder, inched her way across a short catwalk, and down onto the coal pile used to feed the engine. Covered in soot, she slid forward into the cab.
Seth’s back was to her, and the noise of the whistle, the racing locomotive, and the building steam pressure was deafening. He was shirtless, and his bandages had come undone and pooled around his waist. He bled where the stitches had broken and was covered in sweat. She saw how the muscles in his back strained as he tried in vain to slow or stop the runaway train.
“There’s a steep incline ahead!” she shouted as she touched his shoulder, and he spun to face her. “Maybe that will work.”
He shook his head. “You have to jump,” he said, “when the train starts to climb.”
“Not without you!” She shook her head as the wind tore at her hair that had come free.
Seth cupped her face in his palms. With his thumbs he wiped soot from her lips. Then he kissed her. I love you, he mouthed, and kissed her again, even as she realized he had moved her closer to the door.
She wrapped both arms around his neck and held on. “Then don’t leave me!” She glanced over her shoulder and saw the grassy landscape rush by, and tightening her hold on him, she fell backward as the train started its climb.
Seconds after they hit solid ground, Amanda groaned and tried to sit up. Although she could still hear the moving train chugging its way up the mountain, there was no wind, and she was surrounded by an eerie silence. In the fall she had released her hold on Seth, and now he lay facing away from her, as still as the air.
She’d killed him.
Imagining the worst, she crawled to his inert body. “No,” she whispered as she touched his bare shoulder and saw blood oozing from the gunshot wound he’d suffered a day earlier. “Oh please, no,” she whispered as she knelt next to him and looked around for help.
Behind her she was faintly aware of an explosion, and seconds later, she was pelted with what she thought must be ash and shrapnel. She covered Seth’s head with her folded arms and face, determined to protect him from further harm, and felt his breath on her cheek.
He was alive! They were both alive. They could have a life together after all. She released a strangled mix of laughter and tears and stroked his face. But then she thought of the others—Jess had still been on that train.
“Stay here,” she whispered to Seth. “I have to…I’ll get help.”
She struggled to her feet, and in so doing saw that they were surrounded not by ash and shredded metal as she had thought, but by scraps of paper money and bent gold coins. She blinked as the loot from the robbery blanketed the area. Then, through the smoke from the explosion, she saw movement and swallowed the fear that had built in her like the steam in the train when she saw soldiers emerge from the wreckage of the rear passenger car. It had been far enough away from
the explosion to suffer only minor damage. They helped Jess down and supported him as they moved away from the wreck.
“You folks all right?” the officer shouted, waving to Amanda.
She waved in return as from the direction of town she heard the fire wagon and riders racing cross-country. She staggered back to where Seth lay and collapsed next to him. She cradled his head in her lap, noticing for the first time the blood pouring from her thigh and the metal shaft that had penetrated the skin.
“We’re going to be all right,” she whispered, and as she slipped into unconsciousness, she prayed it would be true.
Thirteen
Seth was pretty sure he’d dreamed a good deal of what had happened once he followed Jess up that ladder and across the roof of the moving train. He recalled how he had struggled to keep his balance, how Jess had motioned for him to go back, how each had made the leap across the divide that separated the tender from the first passenger car—the car where Amanda had been held prisoner. He recalled the whispered argument he’d had with Jess about how best to overpower Rudy and take charge of the train. He recalled the sudden gunfire and the body of the fireman slumping at the foot of the coal pile.
Yet he was sure what happened next was real—Rudy spotted them and raised his pistol, the engineer tackled Rudy from behind and wrestled him to the floor, another shot, and the engineer staggered backward and fell from the open cab. All of that was real—especially the part where Rudy took aim at Jess, and Jess shot him.
But after Jess yelled at Seth to get off the train and then started back the way he’d come…that part was fuzzy. Seth only knew that he needed to stop the train, or else they were all going to die, and he had plans that did not include dying, and certainly didn’t include losing Amanda.