doesn't want to do. It was because of this. Being a Populist in
Dodge right now is worse than being an outlaw. A horse thief
is less likely to get hanged."
It was as if she went numb, completely unable to feel
anything.
"Why?"
"Along with several other odd beliefs, the Populist Party
claims the government should own all the railroads and their
attempts to make it happen have started more than one
range war. The cattlemen claim they already pay enough to
have their cattle shipped east, and if the government owns
the railroads they're sure to set more regulations and taxes
on shipping, the costs will be unaffordable. New railroads are
being built every day, and the Populist Party believes the rail
companies shouldn't pay the land owners for their property
when laying a new line. They claim the land owner should
simply give it to the railroads as part of their citizenship."
Corrine put the paper down. "There's a lot more to it than
that. Populists also want to abolish national banks and several
other things I can't think of right now. I don't know much
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about it all, but believe me when I say the folks around here
want nothing to do with them. Just six weeks ago there was a
big shootout at George Hoover's place." She paused to
explain, "He owns that big liquor and cigar place next to the
Long Branch. Anyway, the shootout was between some
cowboys and some men who were passing out literature on
the Populist Party. It turned out the men were part of an
outlaw gang."
"Really?" Ma asked, leaning closer from where she sat,
perched on the edge of one of the tapestry chairs beside the
settee. "What outlaw gang?"
Corrine shook her head. "I don't know. But Danny says
outlaws across the state are following the Populists. He says
the whole party is nothing but outlaws, renegades left over
from the war. I guess they probably figure if the government
owns the railroads and the banks it'll be easier to rob them.
Danny also says this country will go to hell in a hand basket if
a Populist gets elected. He says lots of the men claiming to be
Populists rode with Quantrill during the war, and that's why
they hate the government so much. They want the south to
rise again and figure the best way to make it happen is to
form their own party."
Randi thought she might swoon. She lowered her head and
rubbed at throbs in her aching temples. It all seemed so
convoluted. The crinkle of paper made her lift her gaze. Ma
had snatched the newspaper from Corrine, and the more she
read the larger her eyes became.
"This article says the Quinter's are Populists!"
Corrine nodded.
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"So those men down there think my boys are outlaws?"
"Not necessarily outlaws," Corrine corrected.
"But in cohorts with 'em!" Ma slapped the paper against
her knees. "I've never heard anything so harebrained!"
"Harebrained or not, people for miles around read that
paper, and they believe what they read," Corrine said, her
voice gravely serious.
Ma leaped to her feet and stomped to the window. "Gall-
darn it, I left my shotgun in my tent!" She whipped her gray
head around. "Hog got a gun in this place?"
Randi rose, tried to compose her jumbled nerves.
"Ma, y-you can't shoot them all."
"No, but I could get a good dozen or so." Ma turned back
to the window.
Twisting her clammy, trembling hands together, Randi
walked across the room and stopped beside Ma to peer at the
group below. A tall man with a large white hat that covered
his face was talking to the crowd. He kept gesturing to the
hotel and Howard.
"It's all my fault." Randi pulled her eyes away, unable to
see through the tears. "It's all my fault."
"No, it's not," Aunt Corrine said, wrapping an arm around
Randi's shoulders. "It's not your fault. It's Thurston Fulton's
fault. He knew what would happen when he talked to that
reporter last night."
Randi glanced to her aunt, ready to insist it was her fault.
If she hadn't snuck into Howard's tent, he would never have
had to marry her. The dark angry look in Corrine's eyes made
her stifle her explanation.
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"It's true, you know. What Danny says about Quantrill.
Thurston Fulton rode with Quantrill on his raid of Lawrence,"
Corrine stated.
"The devil you say!" Ma's response was filled with disdain.
Randi may have lived at the farm all her life, but even
she'd heard of Quantrill and his savage attack on the innocent
town folks of Lawrence. The raiders hadn't stopped until
almost the whole town was dead and every building burnt.
She stepped back, let Corrine's arm slip away and walked to
her bedroom. Not bothering to check if anyone followed, she
closed the door and moved to the bed.
Wanting to do nothing more than flop down and bury her
aching, pounding head in the mound of downy soft pillows,
Randi took a deep breath before she trudged to the closet.
She'd always known there were deep dark secrets mama
didn't want her to know. Her father was one of Quantrill's
Raiders. One of the most evil men to walk the earth.
Standing there, staring at her traveling bag, a knock
sounded. She ignored it, and when it came again. It wasn't
until the door opened that she pulled her eyes from the bag.
Corrine walked in, took her hand, and led her to the bed.
"It's time you know the truth. The whole truth."
Randi didn't protest, she couldn't. Simply out of habit, she
continued to breathe and her feet moved, but there were no
thoughts, no awareness. It was as if she was half asleep. The
thought of leaving left her numb to the world.
Once settled on the bed, Corrine began, "We had made the
land run a year or so before. Our parents claimed the
farmland and built the house. We were all quite content and
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things were going well. Then the raid happened. They killed
father in the front yard, and after raping mother, over and
over again, they shot her. It had been Quantrill. Well, not
Quantrill himself, but a band of his raiders, including Markus
Nolan."
Randi listened, but it was like she was someone else, no
emotions wracked her body, it was too numb, she just
continued to stare at Corrine.
"Quantrill's large group had split into several smaller
parties that were raiding the countryside like a band of
heathens. They stayed at the farm for a few days, and when
they left, some riding west, others south, the southbound
band took me with them. I don't know why they didn't take
your mother, maybe because I was older, she was thirteen
and I was fifteen. They took me to Mexico and sold me to a
man down there. I was sold a couple other times, and then
spent some time in Texas before making my way to Dodge
several years later. That's when I ran into Markus Nolan again
and recognized him as one of the men from the farm that
day."
"Markus Nolan?" Randi barely eked out.
Corrine didn't answer, just continued talking. "He
threatened me, told me I'd better keep my mouth shut. I was
working in a different house then, and he'd cornered me in
one of the rooms. Danny heard the commotion and rescued
me, I've been working for him ever since. But, during the
confrontation, I learned about you, and that you and
Josephine still lived at the farm. I was in no condition to
travel and see you, so I sent a message. I'd been told
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Josephine was dead by the raiders who took me to Mexico."
Corrine raised a hand, wiped away the tears flowing down her
cheeks.
"I tried to convince your Mama to come to Dodge, but she
refused, said the two of you were getting along just fine, and
that there was nothing to worry about. She wrote the same
thing, over and over again for the next several years. I'm
sorry, Randi, I should have came and got you. Got both of
you, made you leave."
Feeling was coming back to her body, slowly and painfully.
Randi's insides had grown extremely cold and dark. "Don't—"
Corrine cut her off. "I do blame myself and will forever no
matter what you or Danny say. You see, many men weren't
ready to claim the war was over. Markus was one of them.
They took to creating mayhem across the nation in protest to
the government and proclaiming the south would rise again.
After several years, when they figured out outlawing wasn't
the way to regain their country, they decided to overthrow
the current government. They've been trying for some time
now, and with their new Populist party, they're making great
movements. Leastwise that's what Danny says. The party
consists mainly of men of low characters. Even the James and
Dalton brothers have publicly claimed to be Populists."
Corrine let out a loud sigh. "For all that he is, Markus isn't
stupid. He knows he doesn't have a chance at the governor's
seat without major backers and plenty of money. Clean
money. No, he's not stupid all right. He knows others will
follow if he has big names behind him. And Quinter is a big
name, holds a lot of weight across the state."
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"Who's Markus Nolan?"
Corrine took a deep breath. "Thurston Fulton is Markus
Nolan. He was wanted for his outlawing days, so he changed
his name, cleaned himself up, and is now running for
governor."
"Markus Nolan is my father?"
Corrine wiped her damped cheeks and sniffled. "I hope
not, but I honestly don't know." She took Randi's hand.
"There were so many of them. It's hard to say who actually
fathered you. Fulton was our grandmother's maiden name so
that's why Josephine gave it to you when you were born. She
also pretended she married a man who died before you were
born and started using the name Fulton herself. I don't know
exactly what happened, other than her story backfired.
Markus needed to become an upstanding citizen to run for
governor. Somehow he learned about your mother's lie and
claimed to be her long lost husband. He changed his name to
Thurston Fulton. Overnight, he not only became a land owner
but a husband and a father."
Randi felt as if ice cold rain showered her. Pictures formed
in her mind of all the men hanging out at her father's house
in Topeka. They'd stared at her with beady, steely eyes that
made her want to hide. And she had. The couple of months
she'd been there, she spent most of the time locked in her
bedroom, only coming out when Belinda made her.
Corrine huffed out a long breath. "I don't know why your
mother went along with it. I don't know what Thurston
promised. Your mother never wrote to me about it. She just
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kept telling me to stay away." Once again tears fell from
Corrine's eyes.
Randi tucked everything she'd heard into the back of her
mind where she could bring them out later to fully assess;
right now she wanted to focus on the most immediate
concern—her husband.
"We have to tell the sheriff. Tell him Thurston Fulton is
really Markus Nolan."
Corrine let out a fake laugh. "Thurston Fulton already
covered his tracks. There's a man in Fort Leavenworth,
serving a life sentence, who claims to be Markus Nolan.
Danny thinks it's because the man had a choice to either
hang or claim to be Nolan. He chose life in prison."
"There has to be something we can do," Randi said, head
swirling.
"Thurston probably thinks he hit the mother lode when you
snuck into Hog's tent."
"When I snuck into Howard's tent..." She snapped her
head up, glanced around the room. "Thurston couldn't have
known I would sneak into Howard's tent."
Corrine shook her head. "No, he couldn't have. That was
just luck, whether good or bad. But as soon as you left
Topeka, he'd figure you'd come here. I was the only relative
you had. He arrived the day after you did."
A new shiver raced over Randi's shoulders. "It was him
that night at Danny J's, wasn't it? All the shouting?"
"Yes, Opal had told him you were there."
"So it was my fault Danny J got shot?" Randi said with a
long, self-loathing sigh.
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"No, Opal had her bloomers in a knot for some time. Good
riddance to her," Corrine said, scooting off the bed. "Thurston
had sold you to some old geezer who promised to finance his
campaign."
Randi shivered from head to toe remembering how the old
man's blood-shot eyes had shimmered when he looked at her.