by Anna Schmidt
Rusty paced back and forth, stepping quickly to the window to peek out when he heard any sound from outside. Time passed, marked by the click of the minute hand on Abigail’s mantel clock. Outside, Cody heard laughter and the excited chatter of people passing on their way to the plaza for the mayor’s speech and the start of the holiday festivities. Here and there, a firecracker popped. In the distance, a band played a Sousa march.
In spite of his absence, Cody hoped Nick and the others were moving ahead with the plan they’d worked out. Hopefully, they weren’t wasting time trying to figure out where he was. At least Lily wouldn’t be expecting to see him until later in the day, not until after it was all over.
Minutes became quarter hours. The good news was that, although his skin was raw and probably bleeding, Cody was close to being able to slip at least one hand free of the ropes. One was all he needed. He groaned. “Hungry,” he muttered.
With a grunt of boredom, Rusty stood, stretched, and moved toward the table. He chuckled. “Hungry, you say?” He picked up the board with the knife stuck into the loaf of bread. Pulling the knife out and sending it skittering across the floor, he gnawed off a hunk of the bread and chewed it, then spit it out. “You ain’t much of a cook, are you, lady?” he grumbled, tossing the remainder of the bread and the board on the floor.
To Cody’s surprise, Abigail found her voice, shaky as it was. “I’m afraid not, but in the kitchen, there are fresh eggs and the cheese and chiles I planned to use in preparing breakfast for the sheriff and myself. If you would only untie me, I would be more than happy to cook them for you instead.”
Rusty snorted. “You must think me dumber than a rock, lady.” After a moment, he asked, “You got any whiskey around this place?”
“I most certainly do not,” Abigail huffed, then apparently thought better of her response. “There is some sherry in the kitchen, however. I use it for cooking.”
“Sherry? Guess it’ll have to do.” He started down the hall. “You two stay right there.” His laughter was grating.
“Good work,” Cody said softly. He freed his hand and contorted his body so that he could untie his feet. Once free, he retrieved the knife, using it to cut through Abigail’s bonds. “Go to the hotel and find Aidan Campbell,” he whispered as he helped her to her feet and steadied her until she had her balance. “Give him a message from me.”
“What message?” she whispered, her whole body shaking with fear.
“Tell him things are in motion. He’ll understand.”
“I can’t…what if Victor sees me?”
Gently, he led her to the front door. “You can do this, Abigail.”
“What the…” Rusty came rushing at them from the kitchen.
Cody pushed Abigail toward the door before turning to take the brunt of Rusty’s attack. He head-butted the other man as he heard the door swing open behind him. Sunlight flooded the hall. He could only hope Abigail would do as he’d asked and head for the hotel instead of the hills.
Chapter 14
Lily had volunteered to stay with Grace while Nick joined the posse. The hotel was quiet now that the guests were out on the plaza, where the staff had set up tables of enough food to keep everyone well fed throughout the day. The band playing and the cheers of the crowd made her heart beat with excitement. The occasional pop of a firecracker made her smile. Later at the party for Bonnie and Emma, there would be more food and speeches and music. There would be dancing. She closed her eyes and imagined Cody taking her in his arms as he led her around the floor in a waltz. She did not doubt for one second that Victor was walking into Cody’s well-planned trap.
Grace made a low, whimpering sound.
From the moment Lily had arrived to relieve Nick, she’d realized Grace was putting on a brave face for her husband. Now as her friend bit her lip and stifled a cry of pain, Lily rushed to her side. “I’m going for Doc Waters,” she said and started for the door.
“He was here earlier,” Grace managed. “His daughter burned herself on some bacon grease—pretty bad from what I gathered. He and Sarah have gone to Lamy to see about her. He promised they wouldn’t stay long.”
“But that could still be hours.”
Grace shrugged and placed a protective hand on her distended stomach. “I didn’t want him worrying about me with so much else on his mind. Besides,” she said with a wan smile, “these things take time. Just stay with me, and we’ll be fine.”
“At least let me get Emma in here.”
“She’s got other responsibilities. George was telling me that two new waitresses arrived yesterday and Miss K has turned their training over to Emma.” She patted the bed. “Come, sit with me,” she said. “Tell me all about your plans—yours and Cody’s.”
Lily perched on the edge of the bed. She told Grace about Cody’s idea that once he was sure the town was safe from the likes of Victor Johnson, he would resign his post. After a new sheriff was in place, she would resign her position with the Harvey Company, and they would be married. It seemed the more she talked, the less agitated Grace became. She no longer grimaced with pain, and her body was relaxed and calm. When her eyes closed and her breathing steadied, Lily stood and stretched with relief before walking into the deserted kitchen to refill Grace’s water pitcher.
Suddenly, Abigail Chambers burst through the rear door of the hotel. “Where’s Mr. Campbell?” she demanded. She stumbled in like someone who’d been drinking, checking the kitchen before moving on to the lobby. She looked a fright, her face blotched and mottled, her usually perfect clothing in disarray, her eyes wide with panic.
“I…he’s…” Abigail was a gossip, and no one but those involved was supposed to know what was happening at the bank.
Abigail grabbed Lily’s forearm. “Cody sent me to find him. That man—your husband—”
Victor.
“What about him?”
“He and his men are robbing the bank. Cody and I were held hostage until he was able to escape and free me. He told me to find Aidan and…”
“Where is Cody?”
“There’s no time to explain,” Abigail screamed. “I must give Aidan the message.” And with that, she raced outside again.
“Lily?” Grace stood, clinging to the door frame. “I think…” Her voice faded as she slumped to the floor.
Lily ran to lift her and get her back to bed, a pool of clear liquid surrounding the place where Grace had collapsed. From outside, she could hear the innocent sounds of the celebration in the plaza. The band played, people applauded, children shrieked, firecrackers popped.
She froze. What if those weren’t the popping of fireworks? What if the sounds she heard were gunshots? What if the robbery had begun and things had already gone awry? She knew enough of the plan to know Cody had situated his men both inside and around the bank. They were to hold their positions until the robbers were inside, and the posse could catch them in the act. But clearly, things had changed if Cody wasn’t there to take charge of the operation.
Hostage.
Was Cody still being held somewhere?
Every muscle in Lily’s body strained to run from the hotel and go in search of Cody, but Grace’s grip on her tightened as she moaned, “The baby is coming. I can feel it. It’s too fast.”
No, Lily prayed. Not now. Surely Emma or Miss K or any one of a number of other women would be better suited to helping Grace than she was. Should she go to the plaza and cry out for help?
Grace gave a bloodcurdling scream, and her body went rigid.
“All right,” Lily said, more for her benefit than Grace’s. “We can do this.” She ran to the linen closet and grabbed a stack of towels, dropping them at the foot of Grace’s bed. Then she ran to the kitchen and got a pan of water, although she had no idea why it might be needed. It just seemed like the thing to do. Another scream sent Lily scurrying back to Grace’s side.
She coaxed Grace to lie back, bend her knees, and plant her feet, then took a deep breath and lifted the hem of her friend’s nightgown so she could see what was happening. The fine cotton was soaked with sweat, blood, and the fluids that had broken free. Never had she had such an intimate view of the female anatomy, and when it occurred to her that a child weighing at least several pounds with arms and legs flailing was supposed to make its way into the world through that narrow passage, she felt a wave of dizziness and nausea.
Impossible.
Grace drew in a breath, and once again, her body went rigid. With a keening cry that came through gritted teeth, she thrust her hips up.
Lily saw something start to emerge—dark, but not blood. Hair. “I see the head,” she shouted above Grace’s scream.
“The face,” she added as the baby’s head popped free. Instinctively, she cupped her hands to support the newborn. She turned it until a shoulder appeared, and then in one great rush, a fully formed but impossibly tiny child squeezed its way out and rested in her hands, slippery with mucus and blood and still attached to Grace by a long cord.
“Oh, Grace, you have a son.” She held the baby up for Grace to see before laying the child on one of the towels. That’s when she realized he was neither crying nor moving.
Panic seized her. “Grace, he’s not breathing. Tell me what to do. You lived on a farm—you must have seen baby animals born. How different can it be? What do I do?”
Weakly, Grace tried to push herself higher so she could see. “Use your pinky finger to clear his mouth.”
Lily did as instructed, and to her relief, the baby stirred, then hiccoughed and let out a cry, then another, stronger cry. Lily grinned at Grace.
“What do we do about this?” Lily pointed to the cord.
“String,” she said. “You need string and scissors.”
“What on earth for?” Lily demanded, looking wildly around the room for the items Grace mentioned.
“You have to cut the cord. Go look in the kitchen for the cord George uses to tie meat. Bring a length of that and the scissors.”
Gently, Lily transferred the baby to Grace’s arms and ran to the kitchen. She rummaged through every drawer until she located the scissors then cut a length of cord from the skein George kept on a spindle at one end of the butcher block. By the time she returned, Grace was still holding the baby, but she was grimacing again, her body starting to contort.
Twins?
But what emerged this time was a blob of blood and mucus with no resemblance to a baby. Lily was unable to conceal her horror.
“Afterbirth,” Grace told her, collapsing.
“Oh.” Childbirth is certainly a messy, painful business. But when she looked up and saw the way Grace was smiling at her son, Lily had to admit that apparently, somehow, it was all worth it.
Grace told Lily how to wrap the string around the cord and then how to cut it so mother and child were separated for the first time. “He doesn’t feel it,” Grace assured her when she hesitated.
The baby let out a cry that to Lily sounded like a cross between protest and jubilation. Grace looked at Lily, and they both burst into tears and peals of laughter. They had done it.
Wiping her eyes with the edge of one of the towels, Lily understood why the doctor always brought water and so many towels. “Let’s get you and young Master Hopkins cleaned up, and then I’ll go leave a note for Doc. Not that we need him now.”
The two of them giggled.
Lily helped Grace move to the cot where she and Emma usually slept, and she changed the linens while Grace washed herself and the baby. After helping Grace back to bed with a fresh nightgown for herself and a clean towel for the child, she bundled the soiled linens and placed them in the outgoing laundry basket near the back door in the kitchen. From outside, she heard a whistle and shouts of encouragement and knew the games and races must be in progress on the plaza. The day there would end with ice cream sundaes. She also heard horses on the move and shouts coming from the direction of the bank.
She ran to the hotel lobby just in time to see Cody and Nick riding hard after two other men on the way out of town. No. Cody had managed to get away but was now going after the outlaws. She clenched her fist to her mouth to stifle her protest. A moment later, she saw Ty Drake and some other men Cody had told her would be coming from Santa Fe follow. Clearly, the robbers were getting away. She heard the clang of the fire bell mounted in a tower at one end of the plaza—the bell used only in the event of an emergency. The band stopped playing in midsong, and for an instant, everything went still. Then people were running and shouting and Mayor Tucker was calling for women and children to take shelter while the men mounted their horses and rode off after the posse.
Guests and townspeople crowded into the lobby, seeking shelter from the gunfire. Miss K shouted for calm, but no one seemed to be paying her any mind.
Lily hurried back to the kitchen where the rest of the staff from the hotel were gathered, all talking at once, their voices shrill with panic. Why was Aidan there? Wasn’t he supposed to be at the bank?
“Something went wrong,” Aidan said when Lily ran to him first, knowing he’d been part of the plan to stop the robbery. He was breathing hard and clutching his shoulder, Emma by his side.
“He’s been shot,” Emma said. “Get some towels and water, Lily. Tommy’s gone to fetch Doc Waters.”
“I…Grace…Doc isn’t here. He and Sarah have gone to Lamy.”
The baby’s wail silenced the room. Everyone held their position as if playing the children’s game of statues, all heads turned toward Grace’s sickroom.
“Oh yeah,” Lily said, taking advantage of the sudden quiet as she collected more towels. “While you were all out celebrating, Grace had a baby boy.”
For a moment, the robbery and the danger were forgotten. The other waitresses took turns crowding into Grace’s room, and their coos were a welcome reprieve from the distress of before.
“How on earth?” Emma murmured, staring at Lily. She glanced toward the room. “Is Doc Waters in there?”
“Doc’s gone to see about his daughter. She suffered a bad burn.”
“So you…?”
Lily shrugged. “Grace did most of the work,” she said as she handed Emma the towels and went to get water.
“It’s nothing,” she heard Aidan tell Emma. “No more than a scratch.”
But when Lily came back with the pan of clean water, she saw that Aidan was quite pale, and he grimaced as Emma removed his jacket. His shirt was soaked with bright-red blood.
“Let’s get you sitting down,” George said as he gently eased his arm around Aidan and half carried him to a chair. Then he unceremoniously ripped the shirt open at the shoulder, held out his hand for a towel, and pressed hard against the wound. “We’ll need alcohol to clean this, and then iodine and bandages.” Emma hurried off to gather the necessary supplies.
From the lobby, they could hear Miss K taking charge, giving directions for women and children to gather in the dining room and instructing the musicians to play something soothing.
“What happened, Aidan?” Lily asked.
Aidan shook his head. “We couldn’t find Cody, so we went ahead and took our positions as we’d discussed. It all went like clockwork at first—we were in place, watching every possible exit. The gang came in through a rear entrance as we expected.”
George took up the story. “I was inside and saw them set dynamite to blow the safe open. I sent Tommy to alert those waiting outside, and we started to move in.”
“That’s when Abigail came running to warn us,” Aidan said. “But it was too late.”
“I don’t understand,” Lily said.
“There were outlaws inside the bank, but what we didn’t realize is there were outlaws watching us on the outside as well. When we started to move in, tha
t’s when they opened fire.”
Lily closed her eyes. She’d seen Cody take off after the escaping outlaws. “Was Cody hurt?”
Aidan hesitated. “Hard to say. There were a lot of shots fired by both sides. All I know is that he and Nick and some of the hands from the Lombard ranch rode off after them.”
All during this conversation, Emma and George were working together to treat and close Aidan’s wound. “What about Victor Johnson?” Emma asked.
Aidan looked surprised. “Come to think of it, I didn’t see him. Not before, during, or after.”
Emma glanced at Lily, who understood they were both thinking the same thing—Victor was still out there somewhere.
* * *
Cody and Nick rode side by side. They’d lost sight of the outlaws, who had probably found shelter in one of the many canyons along the way. “Let’s split up,” Nick shouted.
Cody shook his head and motioned for Nick and the others to follow him cross-country. “Got a better idea,” he yelled back. Alongside Nick, Cody had chosen his posse with care—Ty Drake and two of his deputies, in addition to three of Nick’s ranch hands. With any luck, they could get ahead of the gang and surround them. Rather than the canyons, he figured the outlaws were headed back to their camp. That was the most likely landmark they’d have used as a meeting spot should they get separated.
And if so, then Johnson should meet them there to oversee the split of the money before they all scattered. There was no sign of anyone watching the posse this time, but to be cautious, he used hand signals to post Drake and his deputies on high ground around the camp. He and Nick dismounted and climbed down to the sole entrance—a narrow slit between high walls of granite.