Authors: Jo Goodman
It was then that the first shots were fired.
Jake jumped out of the private car and crouched down, using the horses and mules for cover. Ethan and Houston followed suit. Ben stayed behind long enough to overturn a few pieces of furniture and blow out the lamps.
"What the hell's going on?" he whispered, joining the others. "Where'd those shots come from?" Even as he spoke a bullet whined above his head. He ducked a little lower.
"That answer your question?" Jake asked. "Those rocks over there. Just about the same place we were camped."
Houston nudged Ben. "Ben, you and Jake find a route around, see how many there are and try to cut them off. If we can scare them out of here, fine. If not, kill them. Ethan and I will get the others."
Ethan followed Houston between the cars to the protected side of the train. Running quickly forward they encountered Happy using the train wheels for cover.
"What happened?" Houston demanded.
Happy shrugged. "Hell if I know. I was standin' at this end of the car. I could see Obie standin' in the other. Too much damn light in the cars, that's what it is. There was a shot, glass broke, and Obie went down. I think one of the conductors got his gun. I jumped. We gotta get outta here."
"All right. Happy, stay with the mules. I'm going up to the cab and see about firing up the engine. Jake better have cleared the track. Ethan, what explosives do you have left?"
"A few sticks, some black powder."
"Put it to good use then. See if you can't help Ben and Jake flush them down here to the train."
Ethan understood immediately. "The train goes over the trestle and we blow the trestle."
The trio split. Ethan circled round the caboose and took the general route that Jake and Ben had taken. In the dark he was in as much danger from a shot by Jake or Ben as he was from whoever else was firing on the train. It was probably a safe assumption that the shots were from a posse. How the law had chanced upon the robbery was more difficult to figure out. Even if Michael hadn't been depending on Ethan's help in Madison, Ethan doubted he would have risked surrendering. He was unlikely to convince anyone that he was a federal marshal and the trees in the area looked plenty high enough to accommodate a lynching.
His best, in truth his only, alternative was to follow Houston's plan and hope to God that it worked.
"You're damn lucky I didn't shoot you," Ben said as Ethan came up on him.
"Don't I know it," Ethan whispered, settling down against the rocks. Ben and Jake had found a good protected location on higher ground. "How many are there?"
"Five that we know of," Jake said. "Pretty damn hard to see them. 'Course they're havin' the same problem with us."
"One of them's a sharp shooter," Ethan said. "Happy says Obie went down." Oil lamps inside the cars made the movements of the passengers visible. A few paced restlessly in the aisles. Most sat in the seats, their faces pressed against the window as they peered out, searching for some sign of their rescuers or a gun battle. "Houston's firing up the engine. We've got to move them to the train."
"Any ideas?" Ben asked.
Ethan reached in his pocket and pulled out a cartridge. "Several of them," he said.
"Oh, hell," Ben groaned. "Be careful with that, will ya?"
Setting a blasting cap and a short fuse, Ethan struck a match to it and pitched it over the rocky incline. He realized one of the men below saw the streak of light and recognized it for what it was. There was a shout and then a lot of scrambling for cover as the dynamite exploded. There was more noise than damage but Ethan was the only one who really understood that.
Thinking the entire gang of robbers behind them, the posse moved quickly in the direction of the train. Ben and Jake fired a few shots to encourage them. Their fire was returned but it was random and without focus. The posse clearly didn't know where their quarry was located.
Ethan set another stick of explosive and sent it sailing over the ridge. The posse split and ran again. The lights from the cars illuminated their path as they got closer to the train.
"Right where we want them," Ethan said calmly. He took his last cartridge out of his pocket, set the fuse, and waited.
"Damn, look at that," Ben said, pointing to the engine. "Houston's got it goin'!"
No. 486 rolled forward slowly, in fits and starts, straining against the track that had already damaged her wheels. As she began picking up speed Ethan threw his last stick. The fuse was so short it exploded in midair. They could see four men take refuge on the train. A fifth joined them a few seconds later.
Ethan scrambled down the rocks, half running, half sliding. The train was pulling away. He ran behind it, leaped, and caught a ride on the back of the caboose for a few hundred yards. Then he jumped. He hoped Houston had already done the same. It was too late now. The train was crossing the trestle and it was vibrating as fiercely as Ethan suspected it would.
He found the fuse cords quickly, marked by the stone mound he had made earlier, and struck a match. They caught immediately, burning at an even rate toward the packs of dynamite nested in the trestle beams. He watched the progress of the train, a bulky shadow a shade darker than the surrounding night. The rattling of the cars, the steady churning of the engine, receded as distance yawned between Ethan and the train.
From behind him, down the tracks, Ethan heard Houston shout for him. "In a minute," he called. "I want to be certain this—"
The explosions, almost simultaneous, cut off Ethan's sentence.
"Blows," he finished when the dust and timber settled. No. 486 was safely on the other side but there would be no coming back. Standing on the edge of the abutment, he shook his head as he examined the damage he had wrought. "I guess it wasn't too cold."
Houston called him again. Ethan turned. "I'm coming."
They found Obie lying on the canyon side of the track where the passengers had pushed him after he'd been shot. He was unconscious, not dead. Ethan and Houston supported Obie between them and headed for where their horses were hidden. Ben was waiting there with the mules. He helped them strap Obie into his saddle then mounted himself. Jake and Happy joined them a few minutes later.
They were somber as they rode. There was no sense of victory in eluding the posse, only a question of how the law had come to be there in the first place.
Happy said what the others, except Ethan, were thinking. "Your wife's behind this, Ethan. She's the reason Obie took a bullet, hell, the reason we
all
almost took one."
"You're crazy, Happy. Michael didn't do this."
"You're the one who's not thinking straight," Ben said, taking up his brother's argument. "We caught her listenin' at the door the night we were makin' our plans. I never did believe she didn't hear nothin'. Tonight's bad business is proof I was right."
"Michael couldn't have done it," Ethan said. "She's been drugged the whole time we've been gone. I gave her the first dose myself so she'd be easy for Dee to handle. She'll still be drugged when we get back. There's no way possible she could have told anyone, even if she knew anything. Which she didn't."
Houston slowed his horse and let Ethan come up beside him. "So what do you think happened?"
"The possibility that makes the most sense to me is Cooper set us up."
"Cooper?" It was clear by his tone that Houston hadn't considered that. "Why?"
"I don't know why. Perhaps he's not as happy with the arrangement he has with us as he appears. Or perhaps he simply wanted to remove any suspicion from himself by making certain we were killed during this robbery."
Houston was silent for a long time. The others were also considering the possibility of betrayal at Cooper's hands. "It's worth looking at a little more closely," Houston said.
* * *
Obie died on the trail. They buried him near a stretch of limber pines and covered the grave with needles. They agreed that Kitty could have Obie's share from the robbery. There had to be a story to cover for his disappearance and Kitty would have to support it. The money they would offer her was meant less to compensate for the loss of her brother than it was a bribe for her cooperation. No one anticipated there would be trouble from Kitty. She was a realist.
They returned to town separately. Jake and Houston went to the jail first, tending to the business of the town before they tended to their own. Ben and Happy took the mules and money and headed for their cabin. It was left for Ethan to go to the saloon. It was left to him to tell Kitty.
She seemed to know. When he walked into the saloon alone and sought her out even before asking about Michael, Kitty knew what Ethan was going to tell her. She took the arm he offered and allowed him to lead her into Dee's office. Kitty sagged weakly against the door as Ethan closed it behind them.
Detra stepped into the office from her apartments. "What's happened?" she demanded, her eyes darting between Ethan and Kitty. "Is it Houston?"
Ethan gave Dee a quelling glance. His expression softened when he faced Kitty again. "I'm sorry, Kitty," he said. He helped her away from the door and into a chair. She leaned against him heavily, barely able to support herself.
"How?" she asked weakly.
"It was an ambush." He heard Dee suck in her breath but paid her no attention. He hunkered down beside Kitty's chair and took her hand, squeezing it gently. "Obie was on the train when it happened and none of us could get to him. The passengers pushed him off. We found him, bandaged the wound, and carried him back. He'd lost too much blood, Kitty. He couldn't make it all the way back to Madison."
Numbness stole all expression from Kitty's face. She stared blankly at her hand in Ethan's as if there were no connection between hers and the story he told.
"We buried him on the way back," said Ethan. "I can take you there some time if you'd like." He paused. "No one in Madison can know how it really happened, Kitty. You understand, don't you? We have to tell people that Obie—"
Dee interrupted. "Damn it, Ethan. This isn't the time to work out a story between you. Can't you see she's in shock?" Her skirts rustled as she rounded her desk and came to stand just behind Kitty. She placed a hand on Kitty's shoulder. "Come with me, Kitty. You can lie down in my bedroom. You don't have to talk to anyone about this right now." Kitty allowed herself to be nudged out of the chair. Dee's dark blue eyes locked angrily on Ethan's. "I'll be back as soon as Kitty's settled. Don't go anywhere. I want to talk to you." When she saw his brows rise slightly at her tone Dee offered the information that would assure his compliance. "It's about Michael."
Ethan was sitting on the edge of Dee's desk when she returned, negligently turning the pages of her open ledger. The first thing she did was close the book over his hand.
"Nothing in there is your affair," she said.
"I was just passing time, Dee."
She put the bookkeeping ledger in the middle desk drawer and locked it. "I knew this would happen," she said, lowering her voice to prevent Kitty from hearing. "If there was an ambush, that bitch wife of yours is to blame."
Ethan stood. "What are you saying? Michael's here, isn't she?"
"She's here now, but she caused us some trouble a few days ago."
"It was your responsibility to see that wasn't possible. What kind of trouble could Michael cause when she was drugged?"
"She disappeared for a few hours. We couldn't find her. Don't look at me that way, Ethan. It happens sometimes. The powders I gave her don't always have the same effect on people. Remember how quickly she slept the first time? I told you I would reduce the dose and I did. Too much, it seems. It took time to find the proper blend." Detra paced the length of the room as she talked. "It's not my fault that any of this happened. I told you from the beginning that you shouldn't have brought her here. She's not one of us, Ethan, and she never will be. I know she talked to someone while she was gone."
"How do you know, Dee? Did you see her?"
"No, I didn't, but-"
"Did someone say something to you?"
"No, but-"
"Where was she while she was gone?"
"I don't know, but-"
"I don't want to hear anymore about it," Ethan said. "Michael
didn't
betray us."
Dee started to say something, felt Ethan's hard stare on her, and thought better of it. Her mouth snapped shut.
"I'm going to see Michael myself. You better have taken good care of her, Dee." He held out his hand for the key to his room.
Dee gave it to him. She watched him leave. "This isn't the end of it," she said softly as the door closed behind him. "Not the end at all."
The saloon was quiet with only a dozen customers there at midday. Someone called to Ethan as he mounted the stairs. Ethan pretended he didn't hear. He had no desire to engage in any conversation about Obie or Kitty or his trip to Stillwater. The key grated loudly in the silent hallway. Ethan pushed open the door.
Michael was lying in the middle of the bed on her back. Her face was pale, her eyes closed. Bluish color tinged her lips. The skin on the back of her hands seemed remarkably white, almost translucent. Her breathing was shallow, quiet.