Her Outlaw Daddy

by Jane Henry

  It was with that final promise that she became devoted to him. She would trust Cole to exact justice. If anyone could, it would be him.

  The tears started afresh as she squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. She hiccupped and wiped the back of her hand across her eyes. “I’m a mess,” she sniffled.

  “Aren’t we all,” he replied, which made her giggle.

  “Well, I suppose we are,” she said. A brief pause, then she whispered, “Daddy?”

  Heat flared in his eyes. “Yes, darlin’?”

  “Can they see us now?”

  He shook his head. “No, honey.”

  “Good,” she said, as she pushed herself up on her elbow and leaned in to kiss him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  By night, Love, tie your heart to mine, and the two together in their sleep will defeat the darkness. ― Pablo Neruda

  Cole held her until she was breathing softly on his chest, her body stilled and at peace. Given what would happen next, it was now imperative that she trust him. He breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that somehow, he’d broken through to her. As he watched her still, sleeping form curled up on him, he did his best to tamp down the feelings toward her that had now shifted. He’d wanted to keep her distanced, but now that they were nearing the end of their time together, he no longer wanted to push her away. She was no longer simply part of the plan. She trusted him. She submitted to him.

  He’d kill the fucking bastard that violated her.

  She’d still obey him, though. His jaw clenched as he thought about the dangers that lay ahead of them. He lay with her in his arms, until the wisps of moonlight gave way to dawn. Gently, he pushed her onto the bed and tucked the blanket around her as he got to his feet. He retrieved his shirt, careful to avert his eyes so he wouldn’t be looking toward the peephole, buttoned it and grabbed his bandanna, tying it around his neck loosely, so he could slip it up and under his eyes when the time was right.

  He checked his weapons, his dagger stuck securely in his boot and revolver in the waistband of his pants. He felt naked without his weapons on him, and now stood straighter with the cold metal against his leg and stomach.

  Aida shifted in the bed, and he froze. Damn, he wished he didn’t have to leave her. But the plan was more important now than ever. Junior would hate that he’d be missing the action, but he could be trusted to guard her.

  Footsteps sounded in the hall, and Cole waited until he heard the low scratch at the door he’d been expecting. He undid the lock, then slowly pulled the door open until he could see the faintest stream of yellow light hit his boot, and the shadowed form of Doc waiting for him in the hall. Shutting the door behind him, he gave Doc a curt nod.

  “She asleep?” Doc mouthed, pointing a finger to the room. Cole nodded, as around him other dark shadows emerged. The telltale blond tresses of Junior, Monty’s swarthy cheeks and dark eyes, Justice’s catlike stance and beady eyes, and several other of Monty’s men Cole didn’t know by name. Pearson would be hiding now, likely amidst a swarm of girls in his bed. He’d not tarnish his hands with what they were about to do, but merely funded their efforts with his own purse, taking a heavy cut.

  Cole crooked a finger to Junior. Junior came to him immediately. Cole didn’t want to have to tell him he’d miss the evening’s raid, as it was a reward and privilege for seasoned members to take on a task so big. But before he could speak, Junior did.

  “You want me to stay with the girl?” he asked.

  Cole nodded, and clapped Junior briefly on the shoulder. “I trust you to keep her safe,” Cole said, as the other men began to move. Junior merely nodded, withdrew his pistol, and removed his bandanna.

  “I know what Pearson’s capable of,” Junior said.

  Cole frowned, but nodded. “You do. Your time will come, Junior.” He leaned in and spoke so low, no one but Junior could hear him. “You’re the only one I’d trust her to.”

  Junior stood taller, his chest expanding with pride. He nodded. “Yes, sir,” was all he said, but Cole knew Junior would take his charge seriously.

  And without another word, he left Junior as sentry, marching to the head of the pack of men in the hall. They moved as one in stealthy silence.

  * * *

  The first part of their plan—the hijack—had been in effect for months, though the initial plans hadn’t involved Monty and his men. The train would be arriving any minute, carrying goods that would be easily found and taken. If everything had fallen into place, no harm would come to the train conductor. The theft would be smooth, the casualties with this raid nonexistent. A simple heist and on they’d go to their final destination. Simple robberies were rare for Cole, but when Pearson had mentioned the possibility months prior, Cole saw his chance to prove himself every bit the outlaw. He needed Pearson, and now Monty, to know he was fearless and capable. If he couldn’t prove himself, it would be difficult to bring about their ultimate demise.

  Cole fell into step beside Monty as they came to the railroad tracks that lay on the outskirts of the forest, kneeling quickly to be sure the rails been sufficiently jostled loose, as instructed. Sure enough, the heavy metal of the train tracks, just below where the pines overlapped tall cedars, casting shadow to the ground below, were unnaturally crisscrossed, askew like violently broken bones. A train moving at high speed through the ravaged tracks would careen into the woods, but measures had been taken to slow the speed of the train before it hit the broken tracks, not for the safety of the passengers aboard, for there were to be no passengers save the driver, but rather for the safety of those who would overtake the train when it was time.

  They lay in the darkness, crouched, watching the dim light indicating the ascent of the rising sun on the horizon. Cole was next to Monty, Doc on his right, Monty’s men on either side of the tracks. Cole pulled out his pocket watch. The train was twenty minutes behind. Cole thought of Aida, alone with Junior as guard. The longer he left her alone, the more likely it would be that she could be harmed. Where was the goddamned train? But just as his frustration boiled, he heard the screech and whine of the train tracks in the distance. The men around him tensed, and Cole prepared for what he’d have to do next. If all went well, Pearson and Monty would be assured of his allegiance to their side. It was essential they trust him.

  Down barreled the hulking form of the soot-black train, the whistle sounding in the distance, smoke billowing from atop the roof.

  “Here,” Cole murmured to Monty. “Just at the bend.” It was where he’d given explicit instructions for the rail ties to be broken, the train tracks loosened. As if on cue, the sleek form of the train, the light illuminating the early morning darkness, veered off, and with a sickening screech of brakes and metal on metal, the train careened off its tracks and tumbled over like a bear that had been shot on its hind legs, a powerful force of nature suddenly off kilter and disturbingly erratic. It was all planned, though, and the train coming at half speed was far less violent an end than it could’ve been otherwise.

  “Go,” hissed Cole, and like snakes slithering in tall grass ready to strike, the men advanced on the train. Cole broke through the door first. The train tipped to its side, so he walked over tilted chairs and windows, and went straight to the engine room. When Cole came in, the conductor held up his hands in surrender, Cole gave a knowing nod, and the man fell in line. Cole pretended he didn’t recognize Preach’s jowls and dark eyes.

  He gestured for him to follow in line, but the second Preach realized they were alone, he turned to Cole. “They’re here,” he said. Cole looked at him sharply.

  Preach shook his head. “They weren’t supposed to come, I know.” Preach was the only one who’d been completely appraised of his initial plans, though Junior and Doc knew enough to keep them loyal. It had been planned for months, the second part of their plan only a recent development. Preach’s going ahead of him had only worked to solidify their plan. They’d rob the morning train, prove to Pearson and Monty they were capable of such a hijack, no
passengers to injure, and bring Pearson and Monty to justice.

  “Come again?” Cole whispered.

  “They’re here,” Preach repeated. “Wasn’t a vacant train like on the record. I had to play like I knew what was happening. They had it planned from the beginning, supposedly for safety reasons. I had to go along with it, Cole, and had no way to contact you.”

  “Which ones are here?” Cole asked.

  Preach swallowed. “The one who matters.”

  Cole closed his eyes. The familiar cold metal against his waist, and tucked into his boot… all it would take would be one clean shot. Preach would have him protected and be sure no one witnessed the murder. They could do anything at this point, murder him in cold blood and toss his body in the river. Shoot him and somehow feign he’d been murdered in the accident. Hell, even scalping or hanging, or some other such violent act of justice seemed fitting.

  Their plans had changed, but ultimate justice would still happen. He’d find a way.

  “Where’s the safe?” Cole growled.

  “Last car, and Monty and his men already have it,” Preach said, gesturing out the window, to where Monty and three men were hauling a safe out of the last caboose. Good. At least that part of the plan had worked.

  “And your passengers?” Cole asked.

  Preach jerked his chin to the back. “Second to last cabin,” he stated. It was hard work trotting through the rubble and debris, but Cole found them. He hoped they were injured but still alive. A sudden death for the man he was hunting would be far too easy an end.

  It was all he could do to not sneer when he saw them. Whereas others would’ve perhaps valiantly tried to dig their way out of the rubble, or to make it to safety, the two well-dressed men in the middle caboose were huddled together like the pussies they were.

  Cole knew him right away. He had the same stark blue eyes as his daughter.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. ― Edna St. Vincent Millay

  The screeching of metal clashing woke Aida. At first, she reached instinctively for the warmth of the man she’d fallen asleep beside, but instead saw a tawny head in a thin stream of light that came from the darkened window. She sat up with a gasp, barely stifling a scream.

  “It’s just me,” Junior said, holding his palms facing her in surrender. “Cole had something to tend to, and I’m here to keep you safe,” he said.

  She pulled the blanket up over her. Why couldn’t she have gone with him? Why did he have to leave her here? She twisted in bed, her body still ached from the strapping and harsh lovemaking of the night before. It surprised her how strongly she felt the sense of longing.

  “When will he be back?” she whispered, but Junior was at the window now, looking out wistfully. It was still too dark for them to see a thing.

  “When he’s good and ready,” Junior said tersely. Aida knew Junior likely wished he was with Cole and the others, rather than playing nanny to a half-clothed woman who kept asking questions, but it still irritated her.

  She threw the blanket over her shoulders and marched toward the bathroom, but Junior held up a hand and handed her a bundle of folded clothing. “Cole said you were to have this,” he said. “He had someone in the saloon bring it up. A connection he has.” She snatched it out of his hand and opened it up, revealing a simple gown that would fit her well.

  “Thank you,” she said shyly, a faint flush creeping to her cheeks as she suddenly remembered how her other dress now lay in tatters. She turned from Junior and went back toward the tiny privy, shared with a door on the other side by an adjacent room.

  In a fit of anger, she threw the deadbolt on the door to keep Junior out, and flounced herself over to the sink where a small looking glass reflected her angry countenance. She looked a right mess, with her hair piled up on her head in wild ringlets, a splotch of red on one cheek from leaning up against the pillow. Tentatively, she lifted her skirt and tried to peer at her reddened backside. Had he left stripe marks?

  Why was it she wished he had?

  Sighing, she dressed quickly. Just as she was finishing she heard the lock fumble, and she turned to face Junior.

  “You stay out of—” she began, but to her surprise, it wasn’t the door she’d entered that was being jostled. She wheeled just in time to see Pearson’s narrowed eyes fall on hers in victory. His thin, rabid face grew hungry, and she could only stare as he advanced.

  “All alone, are we?” he asked. Just as she opened her mouth to scream, his hand reached out and silenced her, his large palm over her mouth as she pushed and struggled. He withdrew his revolver and with a sharp crack, hit her on the side of the head. She sank into darkness.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Hell is empty. All the devils are here. ― William Shakespeare

  It was an easy matter gagging and blindfolding the senators, and Cole was none too gentle when he tied the restraints on Senator Perkins’ wrists. The man called out in pain, and Cole pulled harder. With them secured, his mind now raced with what to do next.

  “No way to get you word,” Preach said gruffly. “When we passed hands at the station, I was told a hefty sum of silver was passed across the palm of the station master.” Of course the station master hadn’t been aware of the planned theft that was to take place upon the train. His contact on the railroad line knew exactly when the train would pass through, exactly the amount of money held in the safe, and it had been an easy matter to bribe him into making a quick change with drivers.

  Monty and his men, along with Doc and Justice, were supposed to have been in the back room with the safe, as Monty’s man Rinaldo was an expert at cracking safes. Pearson would get a cut for covering their whereabouts, and several of Monty’s men would take off in various directions, muddying their tracks. The state senators were supposed to be on their way toward a convention, and apparently had decided to take an earlier ride. Cole had expected them to arrive a few days later. Now what would they do with the senators?

  There was muttering and cursing apparently going on behind the gags, and Cole gladly kneed the back of the man he held in his hands now. The man cried out, and Cole took a sadistic pleasure in having caused him pain. Bastard.

  Cole dragged one man, and Preach the other, a thin-nosed, scrawny man with a shock of thick dark hair. Cole finally found where Monty had the safe, and he brought the two hostages in with him.

  “Didn’t know these bastards would be joining us,” Cole said. They could be hanged for manhandling politicians.

  “These men are restrained,” he said. “Take them to Lawson’s for questioning, and we’ll have to figure out what to do with them later. I’m going to get back up and bring Junior down here.” What he didn’t tell them all was that his intention was to make sure he had Aida secured. She’d lose it when she found out her father was in the same building as she was and he wanted to be with her when she found out.

  Climbing up the narrow staircase, he nearly ran into Junior, his eyes wide and guilty-looking as he met Cole.

  “She’s gone,” he said.

  Cold twisted in his stomach and Cole grabbed Junior by the shirt collar. “Where is she?”

  “I don’t know,” Junior began. “She went to the bathroom and took a long time. After a while, when she didn't answer my knocks, I worried, and broke the door down. She was gone, and there was blood.” Junior scrubbed a hand across his face. He looked pained. Cole itched to punch him, to throw his fist into Junior and take out his anger. How could Junior have let him down? Cole had trusted him.

  “We’ll comb every room in this place until we find her,” Cole said. “She can’t have gone far.”

  Where had she gone? It had to be Pearson. He’d kill him. Desperation made him furious, and it was all he could do not to lose his temper again. He had to stay in control. He hadn’t gotten to where he was without staying in control.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I do not speak as I think, I do not think as I shoul
d, and so it all goes on in helpless darkness. ― Franz Kafka

  Aida trembled as she woke. Her head felt like it would split apart, and when she cracked open her eyes, the light made it throb. Just her luck, she thought. Twice now in one week to be taken against her will. But she’d do anything to be back with the first man who’d taken her. The wicked hands of the man who now held her made her want to vomit. He was right next to her, and to her horror, she felt him come even closer.

  “He thinks you’re all his,” Pearson said as he pulled her to him. He ran his tongue along her collarbone. She cringed, yanking away from him, but he lifted his hand and smacked her straight across the face. Her head snapped back, pain radiating across her cheek. She screamed, but it was no use. Pearson likely thought Cole still occupied with whatever he’d gone to do, or unlikely to come fetch her.

  “He’s a real man now,” Pearson said. “Well, real men share their women.”

  “When he finds out what you’ve done, he’ll kill you,” Aida hissed. He would, she knew he would. God, but she wanted him here.

  Pearson grinned. “Is that right? He won’t find you in time. I’ll die a happy man.”

  He reached a hand out to her and she kicked him with all her might, straight between the knees. He howled, but only for a second before he lunged at her. She poked her fingers out, sinking her fingers into his eyeballs. He screamed in fury and pain as she found her target. As he doubled over, she kicked him again, as hard as she could. She didn’t even take time to see if he was following her. She ran.

  Where could she go? The long halls were filled with doors and several staircases, but she ran as far from the sounds of the man in pursuit behind her as she could. She felt him grab her skirts, but she shook him off and ran on and felt a thrill of victory as he tripped. She paused just long enough to hear him cry out in pain and see him fall to the floor. She used the distraction to her full advantage and ran faster. It sounded as if she’d lost him. Now she could hear voices ahead of her. Were those ahead of her trustworthy? Would they keep her safe or hand her over? There was only one she could trust and he was nowhere to be found.