The Outrider (Redbourne Series #5 - Will's Story) (14 page)

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Glenn.”

“Ah, just call me Ellis.”

“The bank is ready with their shipment, Mr…Ellis,
whenever you are,” Raine told him.

The driver glanced longingly over to the saloon
then back to Raine. “Just as well. Half hour isn’t going to do me much good
anyway. I’ll catch some shuteye when we stop over in Kansas City tonight.”

“I’ll let them know.” Raine tipped his hat,
exchanged a knowing glance at Will, then strode off toward the bank.

“The storm doesn’t look like it’s going to clear
anytime soon. Do you have any concerns with the safety of your passengers?”

“The man in the telegraph office told me there
will be three women travelling with us all the way to Silver Falls, Colorado.
It may take a while, but we want to keep on schedule as much as we can. If
you’re as good as your brother says you are, Mr. Redbourne, we’ll all be just fine.”

No pressure.

“I’ll actually only be accompanying the stage as
far as Kansas City and the delivery of the bank roll. You’ll be fine with
Paulie the rest of the way. How much trouble can three women be, right?”

Ellis snorted. “Son, I take it you don’t know
women.”

“I have a sister. And a mother.”

“Eh, you’re still a pup. You’ll learn.” Ellis
took a deep breath. “Well, what are we standing around here for? We have a
stage to pack, passengers to load, and a run to make.”

After a quarter of an hour, Opal Gailey and
Gertrude Arnold were sitting happily in the back of the stage. The guards at
the bank stepped out of the building, along with an armed Raine, toting a large
safe with their shipment inside. All packages had been loaded in the racks on
top and the outriders were both mounted and ready for the ride.

“Where’s the last passenger?” Ellis asked as he
finished securing the strong box with multiple chains and locks.

Will pulled back the curtains. “Ladies? I wonder
if you know who the last mail-order-bride is who will be travelling with you.”

“Why, Mr. Redbourne, so nice to see you again,”
Gertrude said as she pursed her lips and fluttered her eyelashes in his
direction.

He flexed his jaw, willing patience. “Thank you
kindly,” he said, imitating the most polite Mountie he’d once encountered on a
trek up through Canada. “The last passenger?” he tried again.

“That would be Eliza Beth,” Opal stated
confidently.

The news washed over him like the rain and he
remembered the conversation they’d had over dinner last night—though he’d been
distracted enough that it hadn’t registered that Grace’s friend was the same
woman who had caught his interest, who may or may not be lying about her
identity, and who was already promised to another man. And he was the one who
was supposed to escort her. At least he would only be accompanying the stage to
Kansas City. He wasn’t sure whether to be apprehensive or delighted.

“Do you know where Mrs. Jessup is?” he asked,
offering a smile for their cooperation.

They both shook their heads. He stood up straight
and glanced around the town. Surely, she wouldn’t still be reading in the mercantile.
She had been very aware of what time the stage had been supposed to leave and
he couldn’t imagine that she would have forgotten.

“I’m afraid if she’s not here in the next five
minutes,” Ellis said, “we’re going to have to leave without her.”

For a man who’d wanted to take a nap earlier, he
sure was in a hurry.

“Just stay here until I return,” Will instructed.

Ellis nodded.

He strode down the street to the mercantile and
threw open the door. He marched to the back of the store to where he’d seen her
curled up and reading. He stopped short when he came upon the vision of a
woman, eyes closed, book tipped against her chest, sleeping. If angels walked the
earth, certainly she would be one of them. Her bright red hair spilled across
the big white cushion in which she lay. Her nose and cheeks were sprinkled with
light freckles and he couldn’t help but wonder if her shoulders were that way
too.

He took a step closer, but as if he didn’t quite
trust himself to actually touch her, he reached for a long stick that had a
feather attached to one end and reached out, the tip brushing lightly against
her face.

Her hand batted at the motion, but she didn’t
wake, so he tried it again, though this time, he started with her ear and
trailed the feathers down the side of her face to the delicate skin at her
neck. Her nose twitched and her fingers brushed across the length of her face.
Then, without warning, she smacked herself hard on the neck and opened her eyes
wide, shooting bolt upright.

Will couldn’t help himself. Laughter filled his
throat and bubbled out into the air. “Are you ready to leave, ma’am,” he said,
nearly choking on his merriment.

“Ready?”

“The stage is leaving ma’am, and I have been
instructed to tell you that if you are not on it in five minutes, it will leave
without you.”

Will liked seeing her a little flustered. She
collapsed the book she had been reading, shoved it into the bag she had at her
side, and attempted to stand with some difficulty.

He held out his hand to her. When she placed her
fingers into his palm, his heart sped up enough that he jerked her out of the
cushion and into him.

“Sorry about that.”

“If you’d wanted to hold my hand a little longer,
all you had to do was ask,” she said with a smile as she pulled her satchel up
into her arms and walked past him down the aisle of the general store.

Will stood still for a moment, a grin spreading
across his face. He needed to get to know this woman.

“Thank you, Mrs. Day,” she said as she left the
mercantile in a rush.

Will finally got his feet to move. He tipped his
hat at the store owner and chased after Elizabeth. She’d stopped again at the
break in the walkway.

“Allow me,” he said, swooping her up into his
arms and crossing the street.

She squealed as the light rain sprinkled her hair
and face. Once he placed her down and her feet touched solid ground, she shook
her head with a laugh.

“Don’t forget to ask next time you want to sweep
me off my feet.”

“Why, if I didn’t know any better, I would think
you were flirting with me.”

You’re playing with fire, Redbourne.

She bit her lip, smiled, then headed to the end
of the boardwalk to where the stage awaited.

“Here is my ticket, sir,” she said as she handed a
soggy piece of paper up to Ellis.

“It’s about time, Redbourne. If we’re going to
get these ladies to Kansas City before their six thirty train, we need to be on
our way.” He winked at Mrs. Jessup. It seemed there was something about the
woman that could soften the grizzliest of bears.

Several people stood in front of the telegraph
office to wave goodbye to the ladies. Raine had Indy by the reins and handed
them over to Will.

“My dog!” Mrs. Jessup exclaimed as she poked her
head out of the window.

“I almost forgot…” he said under his breath as he
tossed the reins back to Raine and ran into the livery. When he emerged, a big
red coonhound graced his arms. He opened the stagecoach door and set the pup on
Eliza Beth’s lap.

“Thank you,” she said as she scrubbed the pup
behind the ears. “I must say, you and I have had quite the adventure today. I
am sad it has come to an end.”

“The adventure, ma’am, has only just begun.”

Her brows furrowed together and she searched his
face.

“I’m the outrider, ma’am. And it will be my
pleasure to escort you and these other lovely ladies as far as Kansas City.” He
tipped his hat and pushed away from the stage door.

“Achoo.”

Will couldn’t tell from which lady the sneeze
came, but he smiled to himself as he walked away and up to where Raine stood,
still waiting with Indy’s reins in hand. His brother drew him into a tight
embrace.

“You be safe, little brother. We’ll see you real
soon.”

“Thanks for everything, Raine.” Will clapped him
on the back and pulled away. “I should be back sometime tomorrow morning,” he
said before mounting his horse.

Kansas City was only a couple of hours from Stone
Creek and he fully expected to be back in time to meet up with Jem. Then, he’d
have plenty of time to spend with his family and prepare for his trip to
Boston. The thought of his ship brought a smile to his face. He pulled Indy
around.

“Let’s go, Ellis.”

The stage driver nodded and snapped the straps.
The wagon creaked as the wheels had their first go around, before settling into
the rhythmic lull of motion.

This was going to prove to be a very interesting
ride. He just hoped for his sake, and hers, that Eliza Beth Jessup was exactly
who she said she was.

Elizabeth smoothed her hand over Caspar’s head
and down the length of the dog’s body. She was grateful that the hound wasn’t
jumping all over the cabin and the other passengers as she did not want to let
her out to run in the rain next to the stagecoach just yet. She preferred to
get on their way where there would hopefully be fewer distractions to take the dog’s
focus.

She couldn’t stop thinking about Will Redbourne.
The feel of his chest beneath her fingertips seared a place in her memory and
she smiled as she remembered his shocked reaction to their playful interactions.

He’d been quite the gentleman today, offering to
bring her into town, covering her with his jacket when she crossed the
street—then, with heat filling her face, she recalled the moment when he
scooped her up into his arms and carried her. Will Redbourne was a force to be
reckoned with and despite her best intentions to forget him, he’d made quite an
impression on her. Again.

She glanced out the window and there was a rider
at the back and another at the front. She didn’t remember having two guards for
the stage when she’d come into Stone Creek and she wondered what they could
possibly be carrying to warrant two of them. She looked over at Gertrude who
now laid her head on Opal’s shoulder, both women sleeping soundly, and she
couldn’t imagine it was for either of them. She determined that she would ask
at their next stop.

Elizabeth opened her satchel and pulled out one
of her favorite novels. She’d often dreamed of coming to America to see all the
wonderful things that she had read about in her books. She loved fictional
novels, but more often than not, enjoyed the factual books that contained some
of the more interesting traditions and legends behind the people and
civilizations that had lived in the ancient Americas. She loved learning about
the Indians of various tribes, about miners who’d found gold in the mountains
of California, and a plethora of other stories often recounted by explorers of
all kinds, searching for the unknown.

She missed the library back home where
information was always at her fingertips. She’d learned various tasks and
skills by delving in, reading about, and then practicing some of the techniques
illustrated inside the pages.

Bump.

Caspar’s head shot up.

Bump. She’d forgotten just how rough the stage
ride could be.

Without warning, Caspar jumped from the seat at
her side onto Gertrude’s lap.

She bolted upright and screamed.

The stage shuddered to a halt.

“I am so sorry. She doesn’t usually jump up on
people. Maybe she just needs to go out.”

She was both grateful and surprised that Mr.
Glenn had been willing to allow Caspar to join their journey, and she didn’t
want anything to jeopardize that.

“Is everything all right in here, ma’am?” the
other mounted guard asked as he approached the window. He placed a hand on the
opening to peer inside.

“No, it certainly is not,” Gertrude said as she
shoved Caspar off of her and brushed at the newly formed wrinkles in her dress.
“I am a lady and frankly I am abhorred that I must share this stage with
a…a…horse.”

“She’s hardly a horse, ma’am,” the rider said,
“but maybe we should let her stretch her legs a bit.”

“Thank you,” Elizabeth mouthed at the man.

He opened the door and Caspar happily jumped down
and started running ahead toward the place where Will had pulled around on his
horse and waited.

Gertrude lifted her nose into the air, avoiding
Elizabeth’s gaze. “My husband-to-be had better not have any animals.”

“He’s a sheep herder, Gertie,” Opal said. “Of
course, he’s going to have animals.”

“Well, sheep and dogs are very different beasts,”
she said, as her hands both dropped into her lap emphatically.

Elizabeth didn’t have the heart to tell the woman
that dogs were a widely used resource in sheep herding.

The stage started moving again with the familiar
little creak of the wheels. She guessed they were a little more than half-way
to Kansas City.

She envied Caspar a little and wished that she
could get out and stretch her legs for a spell.

CRACK!

A ricochet bounced off of the steel box on top of
the stage.

“What was that?”

“Get down,” Elizabeth commanded the other women.
She was all too familiar with that sound. She’d heard it plenty. Her father had
seen to it that she’d become an excellent markswoman and she had practiced for
years on end, though she’d never had or ever wanted the need to use that skill.

CRACK!

Another shot rang clear, but this time it seemed
to have missed the stage completely.

Elizabeth darted a glance out the window as it
sped forward. Will and the other rider were closer to the stage than they had
been for the first leg of their journey this far.

CRACK!

They were under attack. She chanced another look
out the window. Will and the other outrider had weapons drawn and had ridden up
close to surround the stage. She couldn’t tell how many bandits there were, but
they were headed into a ravine and the outriders needed help.

CRACK!

The wood near her head splintered off, startling
her. She pulled back long enough to see the damage that had been done, then,
with gritted teeth and a firm determination, she climbed out the opposite
window, grabbing onto the steel railings from the top of the coach. She felt
around for her footing, inching herself along the side of the enclosed wagon,
until she reached the driver’s box. It was a good thing she had donned minimal
underclothing when she’d changed into the dress or there was no way she would
have been able to make the climb.

“Mr. Driver, sir,” she tried to get his
attention, but to no avail. He was busy trying to keep the stage upright as he
drove despite the bullets flying around them. “Hmhmmm!” She cleared her throat
loudly. Still nothing. “Gun?” she screamed.

The man dared a glance down at her, his eyes
widening with surprise.

“Get back in the coach!” he yelled.

“Where is your gun?” she prodded.

He shook his head, but motioned to the grooved
section behind his seat.

A large rifle perched against the back of his
foot space. She’d never have imagined such intricate work engraved into a
portion of a stagecoach that would hardly ever be seen. She wrapped her arm
around the iron bar holding up the running lamp and reached into the partition,
struggling to pull the gun from its roost. When it finally gave way, Elizabeth
lost her footing, but refused to let go of the rifle. The driver reached down
and, with little effort, heaved her up into the seat next to him.

“Forgive my saying so, ma’am, but you’re mad. You
should get back down into the coach with the other females.”

Without gracing his comment with a response,
Elizabeth turned around and climbed up next to the steel strong box. Luckily,
the three women’s belongings only took up half of the compartment, leaving
plenty of space for her to climb in. She braced herself against the railing and
leaned down over the steel contraption with the rifle in front of her.

CRACK!

The shot had come from a cliff on the edge of the
hilly ravine. She took aim.

CRACK!

That time, the shot came from her rifle. A tree
branch broke very close to her mark. She gritted her teeth in irritation. She’d
missed. It didn’t help that she was riding atop of a very fast moving stage.
She cocked the gun, aimed, and fired again.

CRACK!

This time, a loud groan sounded from the
distance, and a man fell out from behind the cluster of bushes and tall
sycamore trees dotting the landscape, and tumbled down the hillside to the
ravine floor.

Bile rose in her throat, but she shook her head
clear of any thought, and forced herself to look for another threat. Splatters
of mud were like clouds ushering in the approaching threat at the mouth of the
ravine. Their only way out. They were headed straight for trouble. She worked
her way back to the front of the stage, heaved the skirt of her dress over the
bench, and sat down next to the driver.

CRACK!

That shot had come from her right.

One of the men ahead of them fell off his horse.

Will.

She caught the outrider’s eye. His jaw clenched
tightly and even from this distance she could see the flare of his nostrils. He
was not pleased. She couldn’t worry about what he thought right now. They were
under attack and she would do her best to help them keep the threat at bay.

CRACK!

The shot shattered the glass on the lamp,
startling Elizabeth. She grunted. “I don’t think so,” she said as she raised
the rifle and brought the man at the forefront into her sites.

CRACK!

He fell backward, but managed to remain seated on
his mount. She’d only winged him. She cocked it again.

Bullets exchanged heavily on both sides.

“Hi-yah!” the driver yelled as he encouraged the
horses to run faster.

Elizabeth took a deep breath, reloaded the gun,
then, staying as low as she could, climbed back into in the railed storage
section and lay flat against the wood. Another twenty feet and they would be on
top of the hijackers.

At the driver’s whistle, Elizabeth pulled herself
up behind the strong box and took aim, following her target as the assailants spun
their horses around to catch up to the stage that had passed them without a
second thought. At this close range, she could see the men’s faces and
suddenly, killing one of them became all too real. She aimed, but could not
make herself pull the trigger for a kill shot. She shifted slightly and pegged
the closest man in the leg.

He screamed a few obscenities at her, but did not
stop his forward pursuit.

The belt of extra bullets had slid just out of
her reach and before she maneuvered close enough to collect it, one of the men
had grabbed onto the side of the coach and began climbing up toward her. She
wished she’d paid more attention to all the fighters that had come through her
house. They had always been talking about the most effective methods to take
down their larger opponents.

Improvise!

She turned the gun around and smacked the man in
the face with the butt of the rifle. A thick gash oozed with blood as he jerked
backward, but he did not lose his grip on the railing. He touched his face and
upon seeing the blood, narrowed his eyes and curled his lip into a snarl before
he spit a mouthful of blood at the ground.

“You’re going to pay for that, Missy,” he spat as
he pulled himself up on top of the stage.

The driver glanced back over his shoulder. He pulled
the reins slightly to one side and then the other. The man approaching her
wavered with the stage, but kept his footing as he got closer.

Elizabeth placed her hands to her sides to brace
herself, her fingers touching the edge of the ammunitions belt that had slid
back within reach. With a little more effort, she scooted sideways until she
could grip the buckle and pulled it toward her.

The man reached to his holster only to discover
that his gun was not there. He growled in frustration, still inching his lumbering
bulk toward her.

One bullet was all she needed. Just one. She
managed to slide a pellet from the belt and scooched backward up against the
driver’s box as her fingers fumbled with the casing, trying to load it into the
rifle.

Hurry, Beth! Hurry!

The man now stood hunched over her. His meaty
hands reached down, touching the tender flesh just above her collar.

CRACK!

His large, bulky frame fell forward on top of
her, squeezing the breath from her lungs. Half of his body dangled over the
side of the railing.

But, how?

She hadn’t fired.

“Help me,” the man gasped, blood encasing his
lips, a rotten stench rising up and filling her nostrils even as the life
drained out of him. He pawed at the wood, grasping for anything he could, until
he connected with her wrist as he fell, haphazardly pulling her over the side
with him.