Rugged and Relentless (46 page)

In one second flat, he burst through the door, ducked out of the way as another man flew past and out into the rain, and stiff-armed some fool who came running at him for no reason. Pandemonium reigned, but it didn’t take Jake long to catch the reason for the brawl as blustering boasts, dire threats, and wheezing protests flew through the air along with punches.

While Jake took after Evie, someone else took offense at the conversation and started to “handle” matters inside. From an occasional yell, he could even gather who’d been the one to stop the talking and start trying to remove the offending parties.

“Clump, what in tarnation were you thinkin’?” Dodger shrilled, air whistling through what Jake suspected was a newly broken tooth. “Cain’t try to force three fools to the train on yore lonesome. Shoulda waited for Bear or—Oh, hey there, Creed!” A judicious duck accompanied the welcoming wave.

Slight change in the plan. First check to make sure the women are safe. Then come back, track down Bob and Earl, and give them good reason to want to board the next train Clump sees. After that, I’ll get back to the entire Twyler issue
.

Jake cracked his knuckles and headed for the kitchen, making it three-quarters of the way before Earl came blundering into his path. A smile spread across Jake’s face as he eyed the other man, whose brows smashed together and head lowered in imitation of a charging bull trying to decide on a target.

Shaped like a rectangle, shoulders squaring up clear down to his feet, Earl was built like a brick, with all the accompanying agility. But for all that, he had sturdiness on his side when Clump rushed him, shouting a defense of Evie’s honor and beauty the entire time it took for him to bounce off the larger man and through the swinging doors into the kitchen.

From the sounds of the worried clucks and anxious questions barraging their way toward Clump, the women fared none the worse for wear. Jake assumed they’d decided on discretion instead of venturing into the fray in hopes of restoring order.

A wise choice
, Jake approved just before he jerked his chin toward Earl in unmistakable challenge. Sure enough, the fool lowered his head and rushed him. Jake sidestepped, slamming one fist into the man’s gut—where he presumed Earl got the gall to call Evie plump—before bringing the force of his weight down on his elbow to the man’s back. Earl hit the floor just about hard enough to bounce then showed the idiocy to rise. Jake popped him one in the nose, not bothering to watch the other man hit the floor a second time while he continued toward the kitchen.

Jake got one boot past the swinging doors when something caught his eye. A small square piece of copper lay on the ground. Directly between the door and where Clump now stood amid all the women, Edward’s coin weight stared up at him.

“Put him down!” Lacey swatted at Jake’s hat as though trying to dislodge a willful butterfly. “Mr. Klumpf stopped those men from saying such awful things. Don’t blame him for their vulgarity!”

“Hush, Lace.” Evie’s warning came out sharper than she’d intended as she herded her sister and two friends across the kitchen. Away from Mr. Klumpf, who even now dangled in the air, caught by Jake’s grip on his suspenders. “There are other things than just the brawl out in the dining room. Trust Jake.”

Trust Jake
. Now that was sketchy advice.
Why do I feel it’s safe to trust an admitted liar bent on vengeance?
Evie fretted along with the others as they watched Jake interrogate the hapless Mr. Klumpf, who’d gone slightly purple in embarrassment. If the man were more round and less boxy, Evie considered the idea he’d bear a striking resemblance to a blueberry as he protested Jake’s treatment of his suspenders.

“These are good suspenders, and you need to let go of ’em, Creed. Iff’n you’re of a temper on account of how I decided Earl, Bob, and Mason needed to hit the train and not look back, believe you me, they deserve it. Just ask the ladies.” Klumpf’s babbling
sounded as sincere as always to Evie’s ears.

“The piece, Clump.” Jake released his grip on the suspenders, dropping the shorter man to his heavy boots. He held a square copper coin in his hand. “Where did you get this?”

“That? If you take a fancy to it, you can keep it, Jake.” Klumpf adjusted his collar and straightened his shoulders. “Just a trinket I won in a poker game is all. Nothing important.”

Evie let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding at Klumpf’s explanation. She hadn’t been able to believe the worst of the good-natured, sweet man whose signature stomp added to the rhythm of Hope Falls. Klumpf was one of their own, really.

“To tell you the truth, I most likely would’ve forgotten and not noticed it fell through the hole in my pocket if you hadn’t picked the thing up.” He put a hand in his pocket, and Evie could only assume he fingered the unraveled seam within it.

“Poker game?” Jake’s throat worked. “With who? Who put this in the pot, Klumpf?”

“I don’t remember who threw it in. But it was just me, Draxley, Dodger, and McCreedy who was playing.” He scratched his head. “Sorry I can’t recall any better than that, Jake.”

“Evie? Call Dodger in here, please.” Jake kept his tone perfectly controlled. Evie took it to be a sign of how uncontrolled he really felt.

Dodger scuttled inside in response to her summons so quickly it almost made her feel guilty for luring him in to face Jake. Until she reminded herself that this might well be the man who’d murdered Edward and could threaten each and every one of them. Dodger would be fine so long as he wasn’t Twyler.

And if he was … well, Evie would have to wrangle pity for the man when it came down to that. At the moment, she couldn’t dredge up any sympathetic feelings for such a mangy cur. So she watched, tense as could be, while Jake circled to keep himself between them and the petty thief.

“Dodger, Clump tells me he won this off of you in a poker
game.” Jake held up the coin weight and lifted a quizzical brow. “You never struck me as coming from a French background, and it’s an unusual piece. Where did you run across something like this?”

“It’s mine.” Dodger plunged his hands into various pockets, fiddling with the contents before moving to the next pocket. “Or was, until I lost it to Clump there. If someone says I lifted it, they’s lying sure as the sun shines after a rain, Mr. Creed.”

“Take your hands out of your pockets, Dodger.” Jake’s hand hovered over his own holster as Evie kept Lacey and Cora from leaning forward. Thankfully, Naomi had the wisdom to refrain.

“I took what Mr. Lyman said to heart, I did.” Dodger gave a virtuous nod. “Seeing as how if I help myself to little pretties, I’ll feel the boot quicker than I can snatch a farewell present. That there flattened coin-y is mine, fair and square. Especially the square part, in this case. It’s why I like it.”

“Why’s that?” Once again, Evie’s curiosity got the better of her.

“Round places got no corners, Miss Thompson. Can make a man nervous.” Dodger gestured around the room. “So it’s the first time I saw a square coin instead of round. Liked it better.”

I imagine you did, Dodger. You’re a sly one, liking dark shadows and places where sticky fingers don’t go noticed for a good while
. Evie tapped one finger against her chin in thought.

“It only makes a man nervous if he’s trying to hide something.” Clump crossed his arms from the other side of the room, apparently having decided to side with Jake again.

“I’m going to ask you one more time, Dodger.” Jake flipped the weight into the air, watching the other man as he watched it fall back into Jake’s outstretched hand. “To whom did this coin belong before it found its way into your hands?”

“He wouldn’t put it on the table.” Dodger began to babble, backing up until he bumped against a counter. “He knew I’d taken a shine to it but seemed awful put out I’d noticed it at all. Don’t go telling Mr. Lyman I light-fingered the thing, Mr. Creed. It’s just
a little coin. I figured it can’t be worth much. And, in all fairness, it don’t seem like Fillmore’s missed it any—”

Evie watched as Jake charged through the swinging doors and back into the mass of fighting men.

     THIRTY-FOUR     

F
illmore
. Jake’s pulse pounded in time with his boot steps as he paced around the dining room, eyeing men slumped on benches or down on the ground, steering clear of those still up and fighting as he searched for the one man he’d traveled so far to find.
Twyler
.

His nemesis hid himself deep within the faded background of Fillmore’s identity, so unobtrusive that Jake wasted the bulk of his time focusing on more obvious choices like Williams, Kane, Dodger, and the like. When all along he should have expected Twyler to be so crafty he poked about like a turtle—content in a slow, steady pace where he could observe everything and retreat to safety at a moment’s notice.

Which is why Jake wasn’t surprised when he didn’t find Fillmore in the diner. Out of concern for Mrs. Nash and Mrs. McCreedy, he looked in on them at the house before proceeding to the bunkhouse. That’s where he expected to find him, perched in the top back bunk, hunched around a book like an overgrown crow. Because that’s what Twyler was, whenever he shed Fillmore. A crow. Sharp and greedy, with a wicked intelligence to get his way no matter who he hurt in the process.

But Fillmore didn’t lurk in the bunkhouse either. Fingers
of dread tickled the back of Jake’s neck as he raced back to the diner—to the women he’d left under the care of Klumpf and Dodger, neither of whom would manage to outwit the likes of Twyler.

He burst through the dining room doors, vaulted over a groaning bucker with a swelling shiner, and barged through the swinging doors to find Clump—and two women. Naomi and Evie’s sister sat at the same table where he’d left them, with Dodger nowhere in sight.

Evie came rushing out of the pantry, pale as a snowdrift. “They’re gone, Jake.” Her lips trembled. “Lacey went to find Dodger a peppermint stick for his upset stomach—he claimed he’s nervous about you and Braden kicking him out of town since he swiped that token from Fillmore. But Lacey couldn’t find them, and he wandered over to the mercantile while she checked again …” Her voice died off as Jake rushed past her to check things while she finished explaining. “But neither came back, and now Lacey isn’t in the pantry and the door’s wide open.”

Dodger!
Tracks crossed the mud beyond the door—a clear set of footprints marred by long stripes and deep heel scuffs—the imprints of a woman dragged away against her will. Mercifully, the sun replaced the rain clouds as Jake ordered Evie back inside and began tracing the tracks back up the mountain. He hurried, knowing he’d made a grave mistake—the same mistake he’d resented his parents for making.

I erred, Lord. I judged by appearance, letting my knowledge of Dodger’s petty thievery color my judgment until his flawed caricature of a cover worked in his favor. Just as he’d planned. Now he has Lacey, and I pray for her protection. I ask for peace when I confront my enemy. Let me seek justice instead of the vengeance I’d planned before. Help me see Your way rather than let my own decisions hurt Evie’s friend. Let Lacey be all right. …