by Jodi Thomas
“Bossy, aren’t you,” Stitch said as he sat down on the wagon gate.
She joined him. “I guess I am, but somebody needs to tell you a thing or two. Stitch, there’s a whole world out there and you’re hiding away in this back alley. Sure you got scars, but they ain’t so bad folks wouldn’t get used to them if you gave them a chance.”
“You don’t need to keep bringing me meals just so you can tell me how to live. I can manage on my own. The cook will even let me order from the back door after the restaurant closes.”
Hallie crossed her arms over her large breasts. “I know what you get when you do that . . . the leftovers. The bottom of the bowl or the scrapings off someone’s plate.”
“It’s not bad eatings.”
She frowned at him. “Miss Rose wouldn’t think it’s good enough for you. She says you’re an honorable man, and honorable men don’t eat the leavings off plates.”
“I don’t mind. I’m not much more than a ‘bottom of the bowl’ kind of person, a man who’s been cut up so badly he looks like he’s made of scraps.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’ve been hearing it all my life. I remember my pa telling me how worthless I was when I was little and couldn’t do anything. He’d yell at me till he got so drunk he’d get crazy, and then he’d start cutting on me. He didn’t want to kill me, just cut deep enough to make me cry. When I did, he’d start laughing, saying I was nothing more than a baby.
“After he died I helped my ma out until I got old enough to work cattle. I sent money home every month till the war came, and then I joined up.”
“Did you see much fighting?”
Stitch shook his head. “Halfway through I got captured and was told I could spend the rest of the war in prison or wear blue and fight on the frontier. I picked soldiering at a frontier post, but the Yanks hated those of us who switched because we were Rebs, and when I came home the southerners hated me because I switched. I’ve seen the street and I think right here suits me fine.”
Hallie hopped off the wagon gate. “Does this sad story come with hankies? You make me want to cry.”
Stitch laughed. “You’re not going to cut me any slack, are you, woman?”
“Nope. I decided a few years back I’d listened to enough sad stories to fill one lifetime and I didn’t plan on taking the overflow into the hereafter. Way I see it, if you’re still breathing, you’re walking away from the table a winner.”
“Did you grow up in a bed of rattlers? I was just talking to you, trying to be friendly.”
She huffed. “Maybe I’ve had one too many men being friendly.”
He had no reason to doubt her. “Fair enough. Thanks for the breakfast. How about we just nod at each other when we pass and save arguing?”
“Sounds fair.” She headed off toward the back door, then stopped halfway there. “Oh, I almost forgot, Miss Rose says she’ll be needing you in an hour. She plans to go over to the sheriff’s office and get everyone organized. Whoever kidnapped Miss Chamberlain is going to be real sorry when Rose gets through with them.”
“What makes you think she was kidnapped? She might have just run off. If she waited until real late at night, the drunks in this town probably wouldn’t notice a naked lady rushing by in her slippers.”
Hallie shook her head. “I don’t blame her. That’s what I would have done with a father like the major, but the missus doesn’t have any backbone.”
Chapter 13
Tuesday morning
Dallas
Duncan McMurray stood with his back to the courtroom wall and watched the Tanner brothers’ lawyer shouting and pounding as if he thought the two worthless outlaws were innocent. The first lawyer brought up the fact that the brothers had both been in the war and fought for the South.
No one in the room seemed impressed. Most of the men present over thirty had done the same thing. A dozen years ago they’d come home broken and penniless, but they hadn’t turned to a life of crime.
The other lawyer shouted that the men could not be convicted because not one dollar of the stolen money had been found. The jury had listened to a dozen witnesses swear that the Tanners had robbed trains they were traveling on. One was a U.S. marshal and another two were respected doctors.
Duncan stretched his long frame, wishing the trial was over. He wanted to be back in Fort Worth . . . back with Rose.
When she’d first tried to convince him that something was wrong about the Chamberlain wedding, he’d thought she was overreacting. Who could possibly care about a yellow dress? Only after the major stormed into the sitting room last night did Duncan decide that maybe more was going on than he’d thought. Maybe no great mystery, but the beautiful Victoria did seem to be testing out at least one other man before she settled down with the groom.
Duncan allowed his gaze to locate August Myers in the fourth row with the rest of the reporters. For a man determined to report the news, he didn’t look all that interested in the trial. Every few minutes he glanced back at a man standing near the door as if he were a second grader waiting for the bell. Duncan wished he’d told Rose more about the man. Maybe she would have tried to talk some sense into Victoria. Myers was tall and had been well built at one time, but his late nights and heavy drinking were taking a toll.
He couldn’t blame Victoria for hoping for someone else.
Grinning, he thought of the couple on the balcony last night and hoped Judge O’Toole had been the lover trying to change her course. The young judge was a good man who kept mostly to himself. He hadn’t seemed the type who would maintain a friendship with a man like Myers, but maybe he did so because of Victoria.
Duncan forced his mind back to the trial. It couldn’t last much longer. The Tanners’ lawyers had to run out of steam at some point. They reminded Duncan of trains huffing and puffing as they stormed from one side of the room to the other. Occasionally, the judge pounded with his gavel to hurry along one of the lawyers so he could find the brothers guilty and order the hanging, but words, like smoke and ashes, kept flying.
The Tanner brothers had given up even pretending to listen. Jeb was looking out the window the judge had ordered open because of the smell of too many unwashed bodies crowded in the room. Owen had fallen asleep a half hour ago for his usual morning nap. Even from across the room Duncan swore he could still smell the pair. The Tanner gang must have no sense of smell, he decided. He’d heard rumors about half the gang being in Dallas, hanging around the back streets. They’d have to be dumber than cow chips if they followed these two outlaws. The idea that someone else might be in charge of the gang tickled at the corners of Duncan’s mind, but not one person had shown up to even visit with the Tanners.
One more day of guard duty, Duncan thought, and I can take a few days off. He was daydreaming about catching the train home with Rose and spending a week sleeping when a shot rang out across the courtroom.
People darted in every direction as they took cover.
Duncan headed straight for the Tanner brothers, pushing people out of the way. He’d return fire if he got the chance, but first he planned to make sure the criminals didn’t try to leave the courtroom.
Owen was no trouble to find. He sat under the table, screaming between hiccups of swear words. He cradled his arms as he rocked back and forth. The second he saw Duncan heading toward him, Owen began to yell, “How’d you let someone shoot me? You’re supposed to be here to protect me. I think I’m dying.”
“Shut up,” Duncan said as he knelt to look at the wound. “I’m here to protect the innocent, not the guilty.” Pulling off his bandanna, Duncan wrapped the arm wound. “The bullet only grazed you. Have any idea where the shot came from?”
“How should I know?” Owen yelled. “I was asleep.”
Duncan thought of asking again, but he could think of at least a dozen victims of robberies in the courtroom who wanted the brothers dead. Any one of them could have fired off a shot and disappeared in the
chaos.
“You got to get me to the doc, Ranger!” Owen screamed. “I could die of poison blood.”
“Oh, you will die, Owen, but not from a flesh wound on your arm. I’m surprised the bullet made it through the armor of dirt you’ve got protecting you.” Suddenly Duncan looked up. “Where’s your brother?”
Owen’s face was blank. Duncan pulled his gun and pointed it at him. “Stay under that table or I’ll shoot you myself. Understand?”
Owen managed a nod. He might be one bad outlaw, but he’d never been brave. He looked like he fully believed the ranger would shoot him if he moved and he was right.
Duncan turned his full attention to finding the other Tanner. By now people had either crawled into hiding places or run. Two other rangers were covering the door, so Jeb Tanner couldn’t have gotten out.
The rangers, Slim Bates, and a new guy who called himself Waco Jones, began to move in, checking under every table and chair.
When they reached the middle of the room, Slim looked at Duncan and shook his head. Jeb Tanner had disappeared.
Duncan scanned the walls, but there was no corner deep enough to hold an outlaw. On his second scan, he saw the window Jeb had been staring at. A window from which someone could take a direct line of fire at Owen Tanner and an opening big enough for a six-foot man to jump through. Only Jeb would have had to do so a second after the shot blasted in while everyone was ducking for cover.
Two facts exploded through Duncan’s mind. One, Jeb had escaped in the confusion, and two, his brother had been used as a distraction.
Waco moved closer and pulled Owen out from under the table. “I’ll take care of this one,” he said. “You two find Jeb.”
Duncan ran for the window while Slim bolted for the door. The drop to the ground below was more than six feet but nothing Duncan hadn’t done a hundred times, and, he figured, it probably wouldn’t have been a challenge for an outlaw like Jeb either.
An overturned box rested against the brick, a convenient prop for the shooter. The window opened onto a side street, but the shooter would have had to be fast to climb on the box, fire, and disappear before someone passing by saw him.
Fast and accurate didn’t fit any of the Tanner gang.
Slim rode around from the front of the courthouse, leading Duncan’s horse. “They wouldn’t have come that way,” he yelled, and pointed back with his head. “Street is too busy. Someone would spot Jeb.”
Duncan climbed on his horse and both men rode farther into the alley. If Jeb was on foot, they’d catch him.
An hour later they’d lost any hint of a trail. The shooter must have disappeared down one of the alleyways and tracking on busy, muddy roads was impossible.
Slim swore. “I can’t believe it. After watching him like a hawk he seems to have just jumped out the window and flown away.”
“Jeb’s not smart enough to have planned this on his own. He had help. Between the brothers, they don’t have enough brains to fill one skull.”
“But who? While they were in jail not a single person visited them except a few reporters wanting a quote. Even their lawyers wouldn’t talk to the pair, and neither of the Tanners can read, so it wouldn’t do any good for someone to slip them a note.”
They turned back toward the sheriff’s office as Slim added, “Let’s go back and see if we can beat something out of Owen.”
“He doesn’t know anything.” Duncan would bet on it. “Whoever did this just needed one Tanner, but why?”
Slim shrugged, then suggested, “It would only take one to lead him to the money. I heard they got a hundred thousand in gold at the last robbery, but we’ve been through every place they’ve held up this past year and haven’t found a halfpenny, much less gold.”
“The gang’s probably already split that up.” Duncan had shot two of them the night he captured the brothers. The others seemed to have vanished into the cracks like roaches.
“Nope,” Slim said. “Way I heard it, the gang had to stay with them for a year to get a dime of the loot. The brothers were squirreling it away, wouldn’t even use it for fresh horses.”
Duncan had heard the same thing, but he had a hard time believing it. Easy money usually dribbled through robbers’ hands like water.
Slim shook his head. “It don’t make no sense. What would they be saving money like that for? But I’ll tell you one thing, whoever planned this must have had Jeb on his side. Otherwise, why would he run toward the shooter and jump out the window?”
Duncan didn’t have the answers. All he knew for sure was that he wouldn’t be riding back to Fort Worth and Rose anytime soon. His plan to kiss her again just to see if she tasted as good as he remembered would have to wait.
When they made it back to the jail cell, Owen was hollering that he was going to die, and half the lawmen in the state were surrounding the building. The trial had gone from a daily article to front-page news.
Duncan stood in the back of the room, watching the outlaw being questioned. Owen spotted him as if he’d been waiting. “McMurray!” he yelled, ignoring the men asking for answers. “Jeb’s going after you.” He laughed. “You’ll be one dead ranger come morning. He told me last night he didn’t care so much about hanging, but he planned to take you into hell with us.”
Duncan stepped out of the room. He’d heard it all before.
Chapter 14
Tuesday
Second Avenue
Abe Henderson forced the cobwebs from his brain and tried to focus on opening his store after a night of no sleep. Sara filled his mind to overflowing. The plain little schoolteacher had been beautiful last night, washing over him like a warm rain. The possibility of what might happen next between them blocked all other thoughts. He went through his usual routine with his mind still floating in the pleasure of last night. When he pulled up the shade over the door and turned the sign to OPEN, Abe wasn’t surprised to see Killian O’Toole sitting out in front of his store.
After pouring two cups of coffee, he went to meet his friend, wondering if Killian would be able to tell how much his world had changed in the few days since they’d talked. Miss Norman had gone from being just a woman he watched to almost a lover . . . almost his lover.
“Morning, Killian,” Abe said as he passed off one of the cups to the thin man in black. “You’re early.”
O’Toole didn’t say a word. In fact he looked exhausted, as though he’d had even less sleep than Abe.
“What’s wrong?” Abe lowered slowly to the bench.
Killian gripped his cup so tightly Abe wouldn’t have been surprised to see the mug shatter in his hands. Abe knew without Killian saying a word that it was time to be a friend. A true friend.
He didn’t hesitate. “Whatever you need, Killian, I’m here. Just name it and it’s yours.” He hadn’t been friends with the man for this long to put limits on a favor.
Killian looked up with red-rimmed eyes. “Thanks,” he said. “Is there still an apartment above that bakery you bought?” He pointed with his head to the next business down the walkway.
“There is. There has been since we were kids.” An older couple from Chicago had lived there before the war. When the war broke out, they moved back up north, telling Abe they’d return when all the fighting was over. They never came back.
“Would you mind if I borrowed the space, Abe? I’d be happy to pay rent.”
Abe frowned. “I don’t mind. You can stay in the place as long as you need it. I’m guessing you know your way around in there—you played in that kitchen when your mother used to work at the bakery part-time.”
Killian shook his head. “I’m not the one moving in. I just want to leave something there that is very dear to me. It’s the only place that I think might be safe.”
“Something?” Abe asked, thinking that he’d never seen Killian own anything besides a saddlebag in years.
“Someone,” the judge corrected.
“I’ll have Henry sweep it out as soon as he comes in.”<
br />
“No. I’ll do that. She’ll be moving on as soon as it’s safe for her to travel.”
“She?” Abe had to ask.
“I can’t say more.” Killian looked exhausted. “If trouble comes, the less you know the better, but no matter what you hear, she’ll be there of her own free will.”
Abe smiled. “Then I’ll ask no more. I’ll get the key to the apartment and one to the back door of the bakery. Consider it yours for as long as she needs it. The only person who goes in there now and then is the schoolteacher. She stores extra desks in the front and she’d have no reason to climb the stairs.”
Killian nodded and his long body seemed to relax a bit.
When Abe made it back with the keys, his friend gratefully took them. “You’ll be needing supplies, bedding, food, a bucket of coal for the stove. Just leave a note and I’ll deliver it to the bottom of the stairs.”
Killian nodded as he stood. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.”
The judge put on his hat and held out his hand. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention this to anyone. It could be a matter of life or death.”
Abe took his hand. “Done.”
Chapter 15
Tuesday
Dallas
Every ranger within fifty miles stormed into Dallas. Most of the older rangers had known the town before the war when the population had been under seven hundred. Now with the railroad bringing industry and commerce from every direction, a hundred rangers couldn’t check every corner looking for Jeb Tanner.
Duncan McMurray knew he was just one of a few dozen men determined to find Jeb among the townspeople descended from artists and farmers. In Fort Worth they might have started by combing the saloons and gaming houses, but here Duncan wasn’t sure where to begin. Jeb might have had friends willing to hide him for a price, or more likely, he could have broken into a place and made himself at home. They’d found one witness on the street next to the courthouse who said he saw a man fitting Jeb’s description limping down the alley.