Distant Thunder

by Lisa Bingham

  Her power over him astonished and amazed him. She had wrapped herself so firmly around his heart that he couldn’t imagine life without her. Therein lay the problem he faced. For the first time he could remember, he feared the consequences of his job. He damned the danger, the random violence, the horror. He prayed that he could survive just one more day, that there wasn’t a bullet with his name on it. Happiness lay within his grasp. But only if he could make his way back to safety.

  In Susan’s arms.

  Susan clutched the shawl around her shoulders, but the loosely woven wool did little to keep her warm. She saw the spark of uncertainty in Daniel’s eyes and wondered at its cause. “You’ll be careful, won’t you?”

  The warm yellow glow spilling from the kitchen window slipped across his face, highlighting the strong line of his cheeks and jaw. Susan tried to memorize each crag and hollow and firmly imprint it on her mind.

  When Daniel didn’t immediately answer her, she took a step forward.

  “No. Stay there.” He crossed to climb the steps. “You don’t even have your shoes on.”

  She lapped one bare foot over the other, but they’d long since grown numb from the cold. “I forgot.”

  “How you can forget your shoes when it’s twelve degrees below zero, I’ll never know.” His tone was indulgent as he spanned her waist with his hands, lifted her off the bare boards, and set her down again on the tops of his boots.

  Such a tiny act of consideration touched her more than hothouse roses or flowery words could ever have done. She wrapped her arms around the strong column of his waist and dug her fingers into the strength of his back.

  “Please say you’ll be careful,” she said again. He hadn’t answered her earlier, and she wanted his solemn word, even though she knew Daniel would have no real control over what happened to him in the next few hours.

  “My men are well trained. They don’t take a risk unless they have to.” That wasn’t what she’d wanted to hear, but she knew by his enigmatic expression that it was the best answer she was going to get.

  Daniel sensed her disappointment, but what more could he say? He knew she wanted reassurances, but he found himself unable to make empty promises. It would be far more cruel to belittle her fears, only to have them come true.

  Tentatively, knowing he must say his piece now, while he still had the time, Daniel said, “Promise me that if anything happens—”

  “No! Don’t you die on me, Daniel Crocker! I’ll never speak to you again if you do.”

  Her illogical threat caused a ghost of a smile to tug at the corners of his mouth. “Nothing is going to happen to me. But just in case—”

  “Don’t you dare talk like that! You’ll be back soon. You’ll see.”

  “Just promise me you’ll stay here with Essie and Donovan if anything should happen.” He quickly added, “If I should be delayed or kept away for a while, I need to know you’ll stay here where it’s safe. Promise.”

  Knowing she had to say it, she repeated, “I promise.” Susan wound her arms about his neck, rising on tiptoe to hug him close. She breathed deeply of his scent, plunged her fingers through his hair, needing to cherish everything about him. “Please,” she begged, “be careful.”

  His arms swept around her, crushing her to the hard planes of his body. She welcomed the pressure and gloried in his possessiveness. How she’d grown to love this man!

  Burying his face in the hollow of her neck, Daniel squeezed his eyes shut, trying to summon the strength to leave her. Regretfully, he let her go, bit by bit, inch by inch. He kissed her, softly, tenderly, reverently. “Get inside before you freeze solid,” he added gruffly. Then, knowing he must go now or not at all, he broke away from her, strode down the steps, and mounted his horse.

  “Be back in time for supper!” she called.

  “Wear something pretty and colorful,” he answered. “Pink or purple or red. You know how I love to see you in colors.” For one fleeting second he paused and saluted. Then he grinned reassuringly and pulled on the reins, guiding Chief in a slow trot around the house and down the lane.

  Despite the cold, Susan ran down the steps. “I love you, Daniel!”

  But he must not have heard her, because he didn’t pause, didn’t turn. So Susan stood there for long, endless minutes until the clatter of hooves on the frozen lane melted into silence.

  “Come back to me,” she whispered into the gloom.

  Daniel tugged his leather gloves firmly over his hands and cursed the bitter wind that pierced his clothes. Now more than ever he wanted to finish this job and move on to a different kind of life. He was tired of being suspicious, tired of being careful.

  Tired of being angry at the world.

  At the crest of a high hill, he brought Chief to a halt and stared across the rugged snow-carved landscape. Out there, just beyond the peak of the mountains, lay his land. Nearly every penny Daniel had earned with the Pinkertons had gone toward this parcel of earth and sky. There wouldn’t be much money left in his savings to buy stock or fix up the house and outbuildings, but it didn’t really matter. The land would be his.

  If he closed his eyes, he could see each sweep of earth, each twist and turn of the creek. He’d imagined it so many times that the vision in his imagination was almost more real than the parcel itself. Yet as he thought of it again there was a difference in the picture. Now the house he envisioned was warm and filled with laughter and light. There’d be chickens in the yard, a clothesline, someday maybe even a rope swing.

  He would have all those things, he vowed silently. For the first time in his life he almost dared to believe that he could have a home. Not a house—a home.

  Filled with a sense of urgency, Daniel pulled on the reins and galloped down the hill. The sooner he finished this job, the sooner he could return.

  To Susan.

  Max emerged from the screen of trees and stared at the shack in the woods. He’d come here several times, always waiting until the men disappeared, then foraging through their packs and boxes. He’d found such treasures here! Such pretty-colored things.

  But the men and their toys were gone. Just like Susan.

  Sighing, he continued on his journey. It had taken most of the night to escape Sister Mary Margaret, but he’d finally managed to gather a bundle of clothing and the box that held his treasures. Then he’d walked away from the convent. Soon he would find Susan and take her away with him.

  Susan returned to her room and sank into the rocker, curling her feet beneath her. There was no sense in going back to bed. She was fully awake now and ready to begin her day. But as she gazed out the window, she found herself curiously loath to do anything but sit and watch the sun peeking from behind the craggy peaks of the mountains, kissing the slopes with its rosy warmth.

  Susan stretched, amazed at the lethargic warmth that flowed in her veins. She’d never felt such a curious sensation before. Almost as if she was waiting for something. Something she’d wanted to happen for a long time.

  Laughing softly at nothing in particular, she rose from the chair and stood in front of the dresser. Dropping the shawl, she pulled the fabric of her nightdress tight.

  She’d seen the way Daniel had watched her this morning when she’d awakened him at dawn. There’d been hunger in his eyes. And passion. Soon he would make love to her.

  The thought still had the power to flutter her nerves. But its force was blunted by the silky tingle of desire.

  After smiling at her reflection in the mirror, Susan turned to see if there was anything at all in her wardrobe that might please her husband. Essie had given her a skirt, two blouses, and three gowns from her own supply.

  Susan touched the sleeves of the violet suit Essie had insisted she take. Susan had tried to demur, stating that the ensemble with its basque-style jacket and intricate braided trim was much too extravagant for Essie to abandon. But Esther must have guessed that Susan had immediately fallen in love with the ou
tfit, because she had refused to take it back. She’d insisted that Susan could wear it during the reunion later that week.

  But Susan would wear it today. Just in case Daniel managed to come home early. He loved to see her wear colors.

  Timmy Libbley galloped his horse up to the front of the queue of Pinkertons riding toward the split in the rail lines.

  “Sir! Mr. K-Kutter, s-sir!”

  Kutter stopped his mount and turned in the saddle to glare at the freckle-faced boy. “Damn it all to double danged hell, Timmy! If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a hundred times. Do … not … stutter! And where the hell have you been. You were supposed to rendezvous with the rest of the group thirty minutes ago.”

  Timmy’s mount shuddered to a halt in front of his superior. Libbley’s face was beet red from his desperate ride. “But, Mr. Kutter, sir, I found their camp.”

  “Whose camp?”

  “The Dooleys’. The Dooleys’ camp! I stumbled on it early this morning when I took your orders to the guards you assigned to the orphanage.”

  “The hell you say! Are they still there?”

  “Most of them have already abandoned camp. There were only two men still there when I found it. But I heard them planning”—he gulped and continued—“to take Miss Hurst. They’re going to use her at the exchange to force Crocker into surrendering.”

  Kutter swore violently. “You!” He pointed to one of the men on the fringes of the group. “Go with Libbley here. I want you to ride back to the orphanage, get the girl, and the men who were assigned to guard her. Then I want you to hide her back at our headquarters. Don’t let anyone near her and don’t let her out of your sight until we come to fetch you. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir!” The two men spoke in unison.

  “Then get going! If the Dooleys capture her, we may as well kiss our foolproof plan good-bye.”

  “What if she won’t come?”

  Kutter glared at Timmy for daring to ask such a fool question. “Lie to her, kidnap her, tell her Crocker’s bleeding and calling her name—I don’t care how you do it. Just get her out of there.”

  Daniel stamped his feet, attempting to return some semblance of feeling to his numbed extremities. Impatiently he watched as the rest of the Pinkertons moved into position. Kutter was the only man who dared to approach him. Once Daniel became involved in his work, he had a reputation for being single-minded, short-tempered, and relentless.

  Tucking his hands under his arms, he paced in the square of tramped snow already formed by his continuous passage. “It’s time?” he barked.

  Behind him Kutter snapped open the lid of his watch.

  “Yep, just six.”

  Over ten minutes remained until the train was scheduled to pass through.

  “Any sign of the Dooleys?”

  “Nope. Timmy thought he had a line on one or two of them,” he added carefully, but did not elaborate. “I sent him into town to investigate.”

  “Everyone is in position?”

  “Yep.” Kutter took a cigar from his pocket and ran it through his fingers, over and over. He didn’t light it for fear the scent of its smoke would carry too far. “I’ve got sentries stationed every mile all the way to Ashton. So far we’ve heard no word.”

  “No trouble with the rail lines?”

  “None. Baby Floyd should arrive right on schedule.”

  “Good.” Daniel squinted into the hazy glow of morning. The sun was just beginning to top the mountains, flooding the icy slopes with a brittle light. Not exactly the kind of weather a man would choose to spend cooped up in a boxcar with some idiot who’d been too dumb to refuse to ride with his brothers and too stupid to keep from getting caught.

  From behind, Daniel heard Kutter take a deep breath. “Damn this waiting.”

  Though he didn’t speak, Daniel seconded Kutter’s lament with a nod. The air around him hung silent and still. The cracking pop of the creek grew muted as if in anticipation. There were no rustlings of animals, no plops of snow from heavy boughs. There was only the intensity of the men who waited, their breathing carefully controlled, their occasional comments hushed. Even Kutter’s booming voice had grown quiet.

  Kutter joined Daniel’s silent perusal of the serpentine tracks stretching into the distance. He clamped the unlit cigar in his teeth. “I’m getting too damned old for this.”

  Despite Kutter’s white hair, Daniel had never seen him as old. The thought of Kutter considering his own mortality made Daniel uncomfortable.

  Kutter chomped on the cigar, then deftly shifted it to the other side of his mouth. “You know, I used to be like you.” He cocked his head to regard Daniel with an impassive stare. “I was mean and hard and full of anger.” His brows lifted as if in disbelief of how the years could have changed him so much. “But I never had a little girl like yours to show me just what I was missing.”

  Daniel frowned. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Kutter turned his head to squint at the narrow iron tracks. “Maybe you don’t see it yet. But she’s changed you. It’s only been days, but she’s made you …” Kutter grunted in embarrassment, then fumbled in his pocket and withdrew a crumpled scrap of paper. “Here. Take this.”

  Daniel scowled. “What is it?”

  “The note on your land.”

  “You can give it to me later, when I’ve finished the job.”

  “No.” Kutter nudged his arm. “Take it now. Call it a wedding present.” Daniel considered Kutter, then the paper he offered. “Take it.”

  Daniel took the rumpled slip. He’d been dreaming of this for years, but now that it had come, he felt that he was severing his ties with a very old and dear friend. He tucked the note into his pocket. “Just don’t think this gets you out of our arrangement. As soon as the Dooleys have been rounded up, I’ll expect a milk cow, too.”

  Kutter chuckled, but his laughter was blunted when the air trembled in warning. The bare branches quivered at the muffled rumble and hiss of the approaching train—a train that was empty except for a few railroad personnel. Floyd’s train would arrive only minutes behind this one.

  “Crocker?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You’re damned lucky, you know?”

  In his pocket, Daniel’s fist closed over the scrap of paper, crushing it into a ball. “Yeah. I know.”

  Daniel could only hope his luck would hold.

  “Susan?”

  “Yes, Carrie?”

  The seven-year-old girl paused only long enough at the door to say “There’s a man here to see you” before she scampered down the hall on her way outside to play.

  Susan set aside the bowl she’d been drying and went to the door. A stranger waited on the stoop. Frowning at the way Carrie had left him to wait in the cold, Susan stepped into the chilly afternoon.

  “Yes?”

  The red-haired man turned, and Susan was immediately struck by the youthfulness of his features.

  “Mrs. Crocker?”

  Susan didn’t recognize her new name. Then she felt a thrill of pleasure.

  “Yes. I’m Susan Crocker.”

  The man, as if remembering his manners, swept the hat from his head and took a step toward her. There was a sense of urgency in the way he moved, and Susan immediately felt a twinge of alarm.

  “Ma’am, I hate to be the one to bear bad news, but they asked me to come and get you.”

  “They?”

  “Th-the Pinkertons, ma’am.” He mauled his hat, staring down at the scuffed toes of his boots. “Something went wrong. They asked me to fetch you.”

  “What is it? What’s happened? Daniel. Is he hurt?”

  “If you could just come with me, ma’am. They’ll explain everything there.”

  Spurred into action, Susan flew into the house, grabbed her cape from the hall rack and yelled, “Carrie! Tell Essie I’ve gone to get Daniel!”

  She heard Carrie’s faint “Yes, Sus
an.” Then she rushed back outside, slamming the door behind her. She gestured to the barn. “If you can wait, I’ll saddle a horse.”

  “Uh, no! No, ma’am. There’s no time.” He motioned to his mount. “If you’ll take the saddle, I’ll ride behind you.”

  “Certainly. Yes.” She would do anything. Anything at all to get Daniel as quickly as possible.

  The man jammed his hat on, solicitously taking her arm and leading her down the path to the front gate. Once there, he lifted her onto the gelding’s back and mounted behind her.

  Susan grasped the horse’s mane as the Pinkerton took the reins, and turned the horse around. He dug his heels into the animal’s side, and they galloped down the lane.

  “How far do we have to go?”

  “It won’t be long. Then everything will be explained.”

  Max trudged to the top of the rise. Below, the orphanage buildings were scattered like blocks on a carpet of down. Miss Susan would be happy to see him!

  Running now, he stumbled down the hill, intent on finding his friend. A shape appeared in the distance. He heard the pounding of hooves. Stopping, he dropped his bundle and waved his arms, recognizing Susan’s flaming tresses.

  “Susan! Stop for me, please! Susan!”

  But the horse’s pace didn’t ease, didn’t slow. The animal with its pair of riders galloped past.

  Max turned in the snow to watch them disappear around the crook in the road. His chin trembled. “Why didn’t you stop? Why didn’t you stop?”

  Chapter 25

  Donovan stepped outside the barn, squinting against the bright winter sky. He thought he’d heard a horse approach the house, but there was no one there.

  Unease skittered through his frame. During the past few days he had grown more and more disturbed by things he’d seen in town. Ashton seemed to have attracted over a half dozen strangers who did little more all day than sit, gamble, and restlessly watch the roads. Donovan had spent enough time flirting with the wrong side of justice to know when he was looking at lawmen pretending to be laymen. And judging by Daniel’s sudden disappearance early that morning, Donovan figured the Pinkertons must be up to something.