Boot Hill Bride (26 page)

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.