Lawman in Disguise (16 page)

Mrs. Gilmore gasped and one hand flew to her chest. “But...what do you mean? How do you know my name?”

Griggs guffawed. “We know lots o' things, Miz Gilmore—like the fact that yore husband, the mayor, is the richest man in Simpson Creek and he'll pay plenty to see you back safe 'n' sound at his side.”

“You're...holding me for
ransom
?” she asked, going paler than she was before. “But—but this is an
outrage
!”

“Yeah, well, we specialize in being outrageous,” Griggs said, still grinning. “I'm sure yore man'll pay up, and if you behave yoreself, no harm'll come to you and you'll be back in his arms in no time. Hold out your arms, wrists together, while one o' my boys shows you just how serious we are about this. Be quick, now!” Griggs admonished, when it looked as if the mayor's wife would like to argue further. “We'd hate to have to damage the goods...but we will if we have to. The rest of you can be on your way in just a minute.”

The air had gone silent, as if the birds and even the insects were holding their breaths to see what would happen next. All Thorn could hear was the pounding of his heart, Mrs. Gilmore's indignant huffs as her wrists were tied together and the hushed murmurs of the passengers, now safely back inside the stagecoach.
Where was the posse? Was Bishop just going to let the kidnapping proceed?

Just then he heard a thin, boyish cry, like an imitation of a rebel yell from someone who'd never heard a real one in the war, and suddenly pandemonium ensued as the sheriff and his posse charged around the bend, seemingly from out of nowhere.

“Hands up, every one of you, unless you want to die right here!” Bishop called, from the back of the lead horse. “You're under arrest!”

Thorn raised his pistol. “Do as he says—no one's getting kidnapped today. You're all under arrest.”

Griggs roared in fury and leveled his pistol at the lawman. “I ain't gonna be arrested, Sheriff!” Then he turned his furious glare on Thorn. “This is your doing, Dawson, ain't it? Well, I'm gonna make you sorry—”

Bishop fired, and the outlaw leader was the first to fall, with Tomlinson the next to go down, after aiming his gun at Thorn. Pritchard dropped his Colt and raised his arms in apparent surrender, then pulled another pistol from his boot as Thorn approached to take his weapon. A shot rang out from behind them from someone in the posse and Pritchard fell from his horse. Mose and two other men tried to flee, but only one of the three succeeded in getting out of range before the posse's guns shot them off their horses.

Tense and alert, Thorn looked around to see if there were any more signs of trouble, but all the gang members were down, except for one who had been taken into custody. Mrs. Gilmore looked shaken but unharmed. And Thorn had managed to scrape by without any new bullet holes.

It was over. It was really, finally over.

“You took your sweet time about stepping in,” Thorn growled at the sheriff, as Bishop stepped forward and untied Mrs. Gilmore's bonds.

“You wanted the charges to stick, didn't you?” he replied, unperturbed. “I couldn't intervene till the coach was stopped and Mrs. Gilmore was being threatened with kidnapping.”

“But how could you hear that from where you were hiding?” Thorn demanded. The sheriff and his posse had to have been waiting some ways behind them on the road, or they'd have been seen.

“Didn't you hear that rebel yell?” called a familiar voice, and suddenly, from out of a patch of junipers, Billy Joe stepped forward, grinning from ear to ear. “I snuck in there after y'all arrived and waited to give the signal. Sheriff said I was to call out as soon as Mrs. Gilmore was told she was bein' kidnapped—and as soon as the passengers were safely back in the coach, on account of all the lead he figured would be flyin' around.”

“But h-how...” Thorn began. “I thought you were waiting with Tilly in the cave where Mrs. Gilmore was going to be held captive.”

“Miss Tilly ain't up to keepin'
me
someplace I don't wanna be,” the boy crowed. “I waited till she got sleepy in the heat, then I tied her up—an' gagged her, too, so's she couldn't screech out a warning from in there. Then I snuck back, figurin' I'd help you somehow, but I found the posse first, and they told me what the plan was. I said I'd help 'em, and Sheriff Bishop told me what to do.”

“And he did it exactly right,” Bishop said with a grin. “Boy, I think you might have a future in law enforcement.”

Chapter Fifteen

D
aisy put off leaving the hotel restaurant's kitchen as long as she could. By the time she locked the door behind her, the last diner had long since paid for his supper and left, and the setting sun cast long shadows down Main Street. Returning home would only confirm its emptiness, for no one had come to tell her what had happened. Billy Joe would still be gone, and she would not know if he was alive or dead.

She wondered how the mayor was faring, waiting for his wife's return. The stagecoach that was to bring Mrs. Gilmore home was well overdue, so even if no one had let him in on the plan, he would be aware something was wrong. He had to be worrying. Should she go to him, and make sure he knew what was happening, or would that be presumptuous of her to speak of law enforcement matters without the sheriff's approval? Especially when his own wife was in danger, and Daisy had no way of knowing if the operation to protect her had ended well.

When she exited the alley and came out onto Main Street, however, Daisy saw Mayor Gilmore standing behind the wrought-iron gate in front of his mansion, holding on to it as he gazed eastward down the street in the direction the stage would come from—or the posse. Yes, he must know. When the stage hadn't come in on time, he would have inquired at the station, and when its manager could tell him nothing, he would have gone directly to the sheriff.

Impulsively, Daisy crossed the street diagonally and went to him. “Mayor Gilmore, is there any word? Have you heard...anything?”

“Good evening, Mrs. Henderson.” The face he turned to her then was haggard with worry. He appeared to have aged a score of years since she had seen him last. “No, nothing since Mrs. Bishop kindly came to tell me about their planned ambush of the Griggs gang, who would be attempting to kidnap my wife,” he said. “She came, since Deputy Menendez is with the posse, of course.”

“I'll wait with you—if that's all right?” Suddenly, Daisy realized he might not know anything about her son being involved in this business. But if he did know that Billy Joe had run off to join the outlaws planning to abduct his wife, he'd think she had a lot of nerve.

It seemed Prissy had covered that bit of information, too, however. “That's very kind of you. Mrs. Bishop told me about your son being with...them,” the mayor said, and anyone listening might have assumed he was referring to the posse rather than the outlaws, for his tone remained level. “You must be very worried.”

She nodded, and wanted to say something consoling, such as, “Surely they'll all be returning soon, and we'll know everything is all right.” But trying to form the words would have let loose the tears that still threatened to cascade down her cheeks.

His hand moved to the latch on the gate, and he opened it, gesturing to a stone bench a few feet away. “Come inside, Mrs. Henderson. We may as well be comfortable while we wait. We can see the street from here just as well.”

She started to move forward to accept his invitation, but just then faint, far-off sounds reached her ears—the pounding of hooves and the jingling of harness, along with voices.

The sunlight was nearly gone, but even in the dimness she could make out a cluster of riders, and the dark, rolling mass of the stagecoach behind them.

She gave a little cry and pointed. “Look, Mayor Gilmore—they're coming! The posse—and the stage!”

“Thank You, God,” he breathed, and they ran out beyond the fence that surrounded the mayor's property toward the procession. Daisy checked her speed out of respect for the mayor's greater age, fearful he would trip and fall in the dusty street while she ran ahead, but her eyes searched the riders, seeking the two men she loved—Thorn Dawson and her son.

She spotted Thorn first, for he rode at the front on his bay. And then, just behind him and next to Deputy Menendez, came Billy Joe, looking tired but happy. She could see one outlaw riding with the posse, his horse led by one of them—a grim-faced man with his hands tied in front. He appeared unhappy but uninjured. Was he the only outlaw who had survived?

Billy Joe spotted her first and handed the reins to the deputy, then jumped off his horse and ran toward her, not stopping until he was close enough to throw his arms around her. She threw her arms around him, too, closing her eyes in a rapture of thankfulness that he was unharmed.

“Ma! Ma, we stopped the kidnapping and captured the Griggs gang!” he cried, gesturing at the man. His face sobered. “Only one got away—all the rest of them but that one are dead, even Griggs.” Billy Joe pointed behind him, and now she could see a buckboard following the stage, with a tarp covering its cargo. They must have borrowed the wagon from a nearby ranch to carry the bodies of the outlaws who had been killed.

Then Thorn was with her, too, joining in the embrace with Daisy and her son.

“Thorn, I'm so thankful to God that you're all right, you and Billy Joe,” she said, glorying in the feel of his strong arms around her and her son. She felt Thorn's lips touch her forehead, and she didn't care who might be seeing it. All that mattered was that he was holding her, and both he and Billy Joe were unscathed.

It was a long moment before she could think beyond that. “Mrs. Gilmore—is she all right?”

“See for yourself,” Thorn murmured, and when Daisy let go of him enough to look, she saw that the passengers of the stagecoach had spilled out into the street, and Mayor Gilmore had enfolded his wife in his arms and was kissing her with all the enthusiasm of a much younger man.

“Ma, I let the posse know when it was time to appear and capture the outlaws,” Billy was saying, his face alight with the pride of accomplishment. “I had to wait till just the right moment, after the outlaws had stopped the stage and told Mrs. Gilmore she was bein' kidnapped and all.” His words tumbled out with boyish excitement. “Oh, and
I
captured Miss Tilly myself!”

Startled to realize she had forgotten all about the traitorous waitress in the commotion, Daisy looked toward the riders again and this time she spotted Tilly, her hands tied in front of her just as the man's were. She was grim-faced and pale, and even looked frightened, as if she'd finally realized that allying herself with an outlaw had consequences. She'd likely serve a long prison sentence and be an old woman before she saw freedom again.

As if she felt Daisy's eyes upon her, Tilly met her gaze then, her expression hard and cold. Then she averted her face, to stare straight ahead of her. Unlike Daisy, there would be no happy ending for her, and Daisy felt a twinge of pity for her before she remembered that Tilly had made her choices—choices that included trying to take away Daisy's son. She would pray for her, Daisy decided, but that was all she could do.

“Sheriff Bishop says your boy's a hero, Daisy,” Thorn said.

“Yeah, an' he says I got a future in law enforcement,” Billy Joe told her proudly.

Daisy blinked in amazement, thinking it a generous remark from Bishop, under the circumstances. It certainly represented an amazing transformation in a boy who only weeks ago had aspired to be an outlaw. “That would be mighty fine, Billy Joe.”

“Ma, is there anything at the house for supper? I'm starved,” Billy Joe said. “We ain't eaten all day.” As if to confirm his words, his stomach growled loudly.

“We
haven't
eaten, you mean,” Daisy corrected automatically, hoping her chickens in the barn would be willing to part with some eggs. But perhaps there was a better option...

While they had been talking, the mayor and his wife had turned and walked back to their home, and Deputy Menendez had assisted the sheriff to escort the prisoners to the nearby jail. The rest of the posse had gone home, too. Now Daisy, Thorn and Billy Joe stood alone in the growing darkness on Main Street. The only lights showing were those of the saloon and the hotel, opposite each other just down the street.

“Come to the hotel,” she said. “I reckon I can rustle up a good supper for y'all there.”

Billy Joe's mouth dropped open. “But Ma, the restaurant's closed for the night, ain't—
isn't
it? Won't you get in trouble with Mr. Prendergast?”

Now it was Daisy's turn to grin. “If he minds me cooking up some vittles for a couple of heroes, he can fire me.”

* * *

Mr. Prendergast said nothing the next morning about the impromptu late dinner she had made after the restaurant was closed. It was likely he had been fast asleep in his room upstairs by that time, and never even knew it had happened, but Daisy made sure to put money for their meals in with the day's receipts.

When she returned home the following night from work, Thorn was waiting for her in the kitchen along with Billy Joe. “Sheriff Bishop sent a telegraph to the State Police headquarters confirming my role in the capture of the Griggs gang, and they've already replied. I have to go to Austin tomorrow and collect my reward.”

Daisy suppressed a wince of dismay. “How far is that—at least a two days' ride, isn't it? So you'll be gone almost a week?” She tried to sound strong and matter-of-fact about it, but now that he was no longer in danger and there was no reason to hide their relationship, she didn't want him to leave, even for a short time.

“The telegraph also mentioned something about a promotion, and a meeting with the governor, so I might have to stay there a few days before I can head back.”

She put a hand to her mouth now, feeling tears stinging her eyes. The State Police were going to try to lure him into staying with them, she just knew it, and if they succeeded, he and Daisy would never have their ranch near Mason. And Thorn might meet ladies in Austin who were far more alluring than small-town Daisy Henderson.

He reached a hand across the table to touch hers. “I've got to go so we can get our ranch up and running, sweetheart. I'll be back as soon as I can, you know that.”

Our ranch
, he'd said. His calling it “ours” resonated warmly in her heart. But she still had one fear. He'd conquered one pack of outlaws, but there were still plenty roaming Texas. “On your way back, I... I don't like to think of you riding alone, carrying a large sum of cash, Thorn...”

Billy Joe had been watching them quietly as they talked, but now he protested. “Ma, Thorn just defeated the whole Griggs gang—
practic'ly
single-handed! I reckon riding to Austin and back's no big thing for him, no matter what two-bit outlaws he'd meet up with.”

She saw Thorn suppress a smile. “Billy Joe, I don't want you thinking of me as some superhuman fellow. Taking down the Griggs gang would have been impossible on my own—it took the cooperation of brave men like yourself. You know that, right?” Daisy saw him make eye contact with her son.

Billy Joe glanced away first. “Yes, sir.”

Now Thorn looked at her. “And don't you worry, Daisy. I'd already thought of that, and I'll make arrangements with a bank in Austin to wire the money to the Simpson Creek branch, so there won't be any bags of cash weighing me down, or making me look like a good target to someone considering a holdup.”

She made an effort to collect herself, so that when her eyes met his, she was smiling bravely. “All right, that sounds better. I know you'll come back as soon as you can.” She wanted him to know she was as eager as he was to start their new life, even though it meant leaving Simpson Creek.

She saw her son suppress a yawn and realized how late it was getting. “Billy Joe, take the sheets I laundered out to the barn for Thorn's cot, please.”

But Thorn shook his head. “No, I'm sleeping at the hotel tonight. Now that the whole town knows what happened and that you and I are courting, Daisy, I think it's best that we give the gossips nothing to wag their tongues about. I'll be by come sunup to collect Ace, though, so we can say our goodbyes then.”

Again she was touched by his thoughtfulness for her reputation. Mrs. Donahue, her nosy neighbor, had made it a point to quiz her about her “Ranger-in-disguise sweetheart,” as she called him. The woman would probably be peeking out her back window, which faced the Henderson barn, to see whether or not he left for the night.

Billy Joe could be thoughtful, too, for now he stood and extended his hand to Thorn. “Good night, then, Mr. Thorn. I'll see you in the morning.” After the two had shaken hands, the boy left the kitchen, and Daisy heard his bedroom door creak open before it was firmly shut.

He had left them alone. “He...he's growing up, isn't he?” she commented, looking in the direction Billy Joe had gone.

“Yes, he is. He's going to be a fine man, Daisy—a credit to you.”

Her throat felt thick with pride. She'd better get herself together or she'd waste this moment crying like a baby, she thought.

Thorn knelt by where she was sitting, then cleared his throat and took her hand. His eyes shone in the lamplight.

“Daisy, I love you, and I'm ready to make a life with you—you and Billy Joe. You reckon by the time I come back, you'd be ready to marry me?”

It wasn't a fancy proposal, she thought, even if he
was
kneeling, but it wasn't in her to be coy and pretend she hadn't already understood the depth of his caring for her, and that he wanted to make it permanent. Nor could she pretend that her feelings didn't match his. She loved him, and she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.

She nodded, feeling as if the glowing lamp matched the glowing happiness within her. “The Spinsters Club has already promised to help me plan the wedding,” she said, already thinking about what she might wear. She could ride out to Milly Brookfield's ranch, for the founder of the Spinsters Club was well known around Simpson Creek for speedily made, beautiful gowns. She'd have to take a day off work, and Mr. Prendergast wouldn't be happy about that, but he'd soon have to get used to doing without her entirely, wouldn't he?