Under a Falling Star (26 page)

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

H
eart th
rashing painfully against his ribs, Nate watched the scene unfold before his eyes. He feared the outlaws would hear the commotion and discover him hiding underneath the dining car on the cold tracks. He’d just decided to go home with his pa when Miss Robinson had come out of the train car and stood directly in front of his line of vision, her once-shiny black boots covered in mud.

He’d hesitated. Seeing her with his pa brought another surge of sadness for his mama. An outpouring of shame followed that, as he remembered she’d been on her way to give him away, to a pa he’d never met. She didn’t love him anymore. She couldn’t. No matter what she said, Nate knew Mr. Carson was more important to her than he was. She was going to marry him and go far, far away. No matter that the thought cut him like a knife, he still loved her.

He’d come down to the train to release her, to prove to his pa that he was right, that she was still trapped in the wreckage. And to prove to his ma that he was a good son, one she could love if she just let herself. Once that was accomplished, he and his ma could go home, put things back to the way they were before she’d met Mr. Carson. But he couldn’t find her. He’d searched everywhere. It was like his pa had said. She was dead. Dead in the cold, hard ground—just like Oldie Judy.

Inch by slow inch, Nate crept backward. Finally on the other side of the tracks from his pa and the outlaws, he tiptoed away. When he was far enough away where he was sure they wouldn’t hear him, he took off at a run, his boots splashing through puddles and sinking in mud. He’d seen his pa put Dunbar into the cattle car and wished he were big enough to pull himself into the saddle and gallop the tall dun gelding back to town. That would be faster. A better chance of saving his pa and Miss Robinson.

Where should he cross back under the train? What if they had more men on lookout? When it felt as if his lungs would burst, he skidded to a stop and rolled underneath the train, lying there for a good ten minutes to let his breathing settle back to its normal cadence. He didn’t want any harm to come to Miss Robinson. She’d been kind to him. He liked her soft hands and pretty smile.

On his elbows, he crawled forward. He poked his head out, being careful to stay under the cover of the engine. The black clouds had cleared, pushed away by the driving wind. Turning his head, he looked all the way down to where he’d come from, but it was too far to see anyone. Staying close to the ground, Nate scampered away from the train and up the rise to the dirt road he’d followed from Logan Meadows to Three Pines Turn. He didn’t stop there, but hurried into the trees and bushes alongside, where he wouldn’t be easily spotted. Logan Meadows wasn’t that far. Every single moment was prudent if he wanted to save his pa’s life. Gathering his courage, he took off at a run.

Nate ignored the stabbing pain in his side. When the buildings of Logan Meadows finally came into view, he stumbled to a walk. He’d made it! The outlaws hadn’t caught him. He’d find Pa’s deputy and tell him what the outlaws were planning. He glanced over his shoulder and checked his back trail. Pa would be proud if he saved the day.

Nate let out a yelp when a large, rough hand came out of nowhere and clasped him around the back of his neck. “Now I’ve gotcha, you little beggar! You’re a quick one, I can testify to that.”

Fear ricocheted through Nate’s body, and he glanced up into a mean sneer and angry eyes.

“Let me go! Let me go!” Those were the last words out of his mouth as the large, unfamiliar man hoisted him up and threw him over his shoulder.

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

S
usanna leaned her head against Albert’s back, their hands bound together, and a none-too-nice handkerchief stuck in her mouth. A few feet away in the stock car, Albert’s horse pranced nervously in place and pulled on his reins.

Albert bucked and strained against the restraints, causing a burst of pain in her wrists each time he moved. His muscles bulged, and then relaxed. The outlaws and Dalton had ridden out five minutes ago, which meant they had probably already reached town. How could she and Albert get away in time to warn everyone? Surely it wouldn’t take long to rob the bank. She pushed with her tongue and worked at the sweaty red cloth, trying not to gag at the stench, but the bandanna around her head held it tight.

“Mmmmm. Suuuuuu.” Albert shook his head; anger radiated off every inch of his body.

His unintelligible words made his horse prance all the more. He turned his head to the side and laid it against hers, bringing a rush of longing. If only she hadn’t been so stubborn. At least he would know that she loved him—before he died. That she’d always loved him. Now, she’d not have a chance to tell him, or kiss him like she longed to do.

Albert twisted, and she stifled her groan. A warm sticky sensation slicked her fingers and she wondered which one of them was bleeding. They had to get free—had to warn the people in Logan Meadows. She felt the restraints give a little and hope surged into her heart.

With a powerful jerk, Albert ripped one of his hands from their bonds. Blood splatted everywhere when he shook out the pain. One second later, he yanked the cloth out of his mouth and took a large gulp of air. Reaching around, he felt her face. The gag was too tight to pull down so he followed it to the back of her head, and worked the firm knot with his fingers. He fumbled several times before it fell into her lap.

She sucked in a lungful of crisp air. “Thank God! We need to hurry—”

“I know. I’m sure they’re already—”

“No. It can’t be!”

He worked furiously on the triple-knotted rope holding his other hand to her two.

“I love you, Albert!” she blurted.

He stilled, then awkwardly walked his body around until he could partially see into her face. “That’s good to hear, darlin’. And I love you, too.” He leaned in, but was only able to kiss her cheek. All the while he kept working the binding knot. “I hope you understand, but right now I have some outlaws to catch.”

She felt the bindings fall away. He jumped to his feet and pulled her up and into his arms. The kiss was quick, but ardent. She glanced at his horse. “Go!”

“But what about you? Your fears—”

“Get going, Albert, before I take back my words! I’ll be fine.” She pushed him toward Dunbar.

With a nod, he untied his horse and jumped out of the car, the horse a ball of fire following in his path. “Stay in the bushes on your way to town,” he yelled. “In case we can’t stop them before they come back.”

Without another word, Albert grasped the saddle horn and swung into the saddle as the horse galloped away.

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

D
alton dismounted in front of the saloon feeling the sweet tickle of sweat slipping between his shoulder blades. Twenty minutes ago, when they’d first arrived, Frank had exited the bank and hurried down the street to the mercantile. Frank was the only one who knew the combination to the safe, so they’d pulled up to wait on the edge of town until he returned. Dalton sent the two younger brothers, Cranston and the one who seemed afraid of his own shadow, into the saloon, to watch for his and Wallace’s approach. Laine Sadler would sit her horse on the other side of the creek, and try not to draw any attention being she was out of her normal dress. She hid her guns in her odd-looking, overly large saddlebag that was just like those of the rest of the clan. Specially made for the heist, he was sure. Her flaps were turned under for fast retrieval of her weapons if the shooting started.

Chase Logan stood at the bank’s front door and Thom was across the street. Thankfully, the street was uncommonly deserted. When the banker returned, they’d ridden in. Now, Wallace dismounted on Dalton’s right, and the men they’d sent into the saloon ambled out, following a few feet behind. Wallace gave a small nod to Laine on the far side of the bridge.

They started slowly toward the bank talking about the storm. With a thumping heart, Dalton nodded to Chase and sent a quick glance to the haberdashery. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to be killed. Until now, Chase had seemed unaware that the two of them had even ridden up.

Dalton had tried to go it alone, but Wallace squashed that idea instantly. “Just in case you change your mind at the last minute,” he had said with a nasty chuckle, “there’ll be guns on you from both sides—helping you to keep a level head. Whatever happens, you’ll be the first to die.”

“Here we go,” Dalton mumbled to Wallace. The outlaw gave a small dip of his chin but didn’t respond. Dalton stepped onto the boardwalk in front of Chase. The rancher’s hat was nonchalantly tipped back and he regarded Dalton with drowsy eyes.

“Babcock, it’s not time for your shift yet,” he said with a friendly smile. “I’m surprised you’d show your face this early in the day.” He chuckled as if his statement were funny.

Wallace and the two others standing at his back had Dalton fidgety. He didn’t want to be killed either. “Just wondering if anyone has heard from the soldiers we’re expecting from Fort McKinney. I’m getting tired of staying up all night.”

“Don’t know,” Chase said, his hand resting on the stock of his gun. “It’s been mighty quiet after the storm. Frank just returned. Maybe he went to the telegraph office when he was out.”

Dalton tried to make eye contact, but Chase wasn’t making it easy. “You’ve heard me talk of Terrence, the tyke I helped on the train? This here’s his pa.”

“Good to make your acquaintance,” Chase said. Wallace nodded, and the other men leaned against the outside posts.

“I’ll just go in and ask Frank then,” Dalton said.

Chase shrugged and Dalton went to step inside, but stopped. He turned back to Chase. “By the way, how’s your daughter? That Jane is just about the cutest little thing.”

Chase didn’t miss a beat. “We think so, Babcock, but she’s a mite young for you.”

Wallace scowled. When he tried to follow, Chase put up his arm. “Sorry, you’ll have to hand over your gun if you want to proceed.”

Dalton stepped inside, a voice in his head warning him to take it slow. He envisioned Chase pointing to Albert’s sign, as he’d done himself for Seth Cotton. He’d planned to try to get the outlaws inside the small building, where fewer people could get hurt, and then take them on.

Everything that followed next went down so fast Dalton had a hard time discerning it all.

He turned to tell Chase his friends were okay, but felt a gun jab him in the back. Charlie stood from where he’d been crouching down behind the counter. “Get your hands up and away from your guns,” Axelrose demanded.

Chase shoved Wallace inside, his gun pressed to the outlaw’s side, and pushed him up next to Dalton. The rancher pulled both his and Wallace’s guns from their holsters and tossed them out the door. Glancing outside, Dalton saw Thom run forward, shotgun in hand, as the other brothers turned to run. Dalton wondered about Laine, by the bridge, and whether she’d ride in and try to help, or skedaddle while the chance of escape was good.

The entire incident was over in a matter of seconds without a single shot being fired. Feeling a wide grin break across his face, Dalton released a lungful of air. Who had sounded the alarm? They’d been ready for the heist, and had performed the scene like a well-rehearsed play.

Frank stepped out of his office and moved around Charlie. Dalton kept his hands up. He wasn’t going to get killed now.

“Someone needs to go untie—”

His words died as Albert stepped through the door, a weapon he must have borrowed in his hand. “Lock ’em up, Thom, Charlie,” he called over his shoulder. “Win and Greg have the woman and are already headed for the jail.” He looked at Dalton. “Good work, Babcock.” A cocky grin spread across his mouth even though his bloody wrists were not a pretty sight.

“Sorry about that. I had to make it at least a little convincing,” Dalton said, his hands still raised. “I hoped you’d remember the moon and stars comment from when we were blowing the roof. It was the only thing I could come up with.”

Amusement rose in Albert’s eyes. “That one almost got you laughed out of the group, but you needn’t have worried. I knew before that that you weren’t involved. Question is, how did you know
about the heist? If you weren’t in on it from the beginning . . .” He
shook his head. “I can’t quite figure that out.”

Frank still watched him with suspicion.

“Well?” Albert persisted.

“When you kept going to the doc’s to see Evan, I began to get suspicious. When I tried to see him myself and Dr. Thorn turned me away, I figured he must have woken up and told you something that you weren’t sharing. I thought he was involved but I didn’t know with who. That all came together at the train. I was just surprised that Pat Tackly is indeed totally innocent. He was the perfect suspect.”

Albert nodded, then turned to go. “I have someone to fetch back to town.” Thom and Charlie, back from depositing Wallace and the others in the jail, closed in on Babcock. Albert chuckled. “You can put your hands down now, Dalton.”

That was the first time Albert had called him by his first name.

“But?” Thom looked confused.

“He’s on our side, boys. And by the way”—he directed his look toward Thom—“how the heck were you so well prepared? How’d you know they were on their way to town? I tried to get here, but knew it was a long shot.”

“The other Preston,” Thom answered.

Albert’s face went white.

Chase nodded. “The little sheriff.”

“Nate? Where is he?” Albert looked about ready to bolt out the door.

“No worries, Boss,” Thom said, chuckling. “I’m sure by now he’s about finished with his second order of fried chicken. He came scuttling into town, but Dwight, in his thick-skulled, meddling way, and not knowing he was your son, thought he was some half-wild child that had been raised by the wolves by the crazy way he was running toward Logan Meadows. He stopped him, he says with good intentions, and was determined to teach him some manners before letting him amongst proper people. But that didn’t slow Nate down. Your boy kicked him in the shins hard enough for Dwight to lose his grip. He scrambled between his legs and was off like a shot straight to the jail, where he found me. Because of his fast thinking, we were ready and waiting for the outlaws.”

Albert gave a long whistle, then laughed. “That’s a weight off my chest. Good boy. He’s learning young.” Albert started again for the door.

“Hold up one more second,” Dalton said. “If we’re all spilling the beans, I need to know how you knew I
wasn’t
involved.”

“Fair enough,” Albert said, turning. “As you suspected, Evan’s recovery wasn’t quite as slow as I had Dr. Thorn report to everyone. After he woke up, I kept him secluded and handcuffed to his bed. Coming so close to death, he’d had a change of heart and wanted to clear his conscience. He swore on his own grave that you and Pat Tackly didn’t have any idea what was planned, but he wouldn’t give up his partners—no wonder, since they were all family.” He smiled and shook his head. “One of the brothers had worked for the Union Pacific and was in communication with Evan, that’s how they knew about the tracks and Three Pines Turn. I’m guessing he’s the one waiting with Terrence in New Meringue. If I had had any lingering doubts after your convincing performance out at the train, your comment to Chase about his daughter finalized it in my head. Pretty smart. Good thing Wallace hadn’t been in town long enough to learn the names of everyone’s children.”

Relieved, Dalton couldn’t hold back his smile any longer. “Another silly signal, but I was praying it would work and Chase didn’t blow my head off. Now, if you don’t go fetch Susanna back, I just might do so myself. Never know which way her wind is blowing.”

“I do,” Albert said, charging through the door. “And I can tell you, a tornado is coming
my
way.”