Jimmy hung his head and moved forward. Dan divested him of his gun belt and the knife at his waist. Stone gave Winston the same treatment. Toby strapped the belts through his own, letting the holsters slap against his left thigh then pulled his own weapon and started marching the brothers off to the jailhouse.
Stone turned and jogged toward the horses. They had serious ground to make up and not much time to accomplish the task.
“Nice doin’ business with you again, Dan,” the marshal drawled as he crossed in front of the Lonely Coyote.
Stone didn’t pay attention to Dan’s reply. He mounted Goliath, grabbed Ranger’s reins, and aimed the animals up the road.
“C’mon, Dan. We got a train to catch.”
Dan mounted in a swift, easy motion, catching the reins Stone tossed his way, and the two rode off, this time heading north to Corsicana.
27
Goliath and Ranger had both been trained for endurance riding, but the nearly thirty-mile trip stretched them to their limits. Stone pressed them hard at first, hopeful they’d overtake Franklin since he was weighted down with Lily. Then he’d spotted the second set of tracks in the soft dirt of a creek bed where they’d watered their horses. Stone had stared at the marks, his entire body aching as if he’d just been felled by a tree. Dan knelt down beside him, took one look at the tracks, and hung his head. He knew what they meant. Franklin had a spare mount. Overtaking him would be impossible.
After that discovery, Stone slowed the pace, no longer racing against Franklin but against the sun. If they could reach Corsicana before the train pulled into the depot, they had a chance. If Franklin managed to get Lily on board . . . well, the additional witnesses would make things a bit tricky. If they missed the train altogether? The thought twisted Stone’s gut. Facing Dorchester in a place where he controlled the stage and all the players would be like battling a wildcat without a weapon. Stone had survived it once, but as he recalled, the cat had suffered very few ill effects. Stone had been the one to lose a pound of flesh. Not exactly a scenario he wanted Lily mixed up in.
So when the sunrise bathed the countryside in golden light, Stone cringed. When the first birds began to sing, he nudged Goliath from a walk to a trot. And an hour later, when a distant train whistle pierced the air, he leaned over the horse’s neck and begged him to run.
“Follow me.” Dan urged a lathered Ranger into the lead. He nodded to a path leading east through the trees.
Stone nodded. Speed was essential, but so was secrecy. If they could avoid the main road into town without losing time, they might be able to get the jump on Franklin. Oaks lined the path, blinding Stone to what lay ahead. Then all at once, they hit open space. Open space that butted up against railroad tracks. Tracks that still rattled from a train that hadn’t yet come to a halt at the station.
Thank you, God!
“Come on, Goliath. Almost there,” Stone urged. “I promise to pamper you for a week after this.”
The horse, noble beast that he was, stretched his stride just a little wider. Stone murmured praise in his ear and gave him his head. Whatever the animal had to give, Stone would take. For Lily.
The first buildings came into view, and Dan signaled with a wave of his hand for Stone to cross to the east side of the tracks, where stockyards and cotton gins would greet them instead of houses and storefronts. Stone followed without question—until they passed the train station. Where was Dan going? Instinct screamed at Stone to split off down W. 8th toward the depot, but years of proven trust kept him following his partner on the perpendicular trail down S. 9th. They passed a flour mill, a cotton yard, and even a gin before Dan finally turned down E. Collin. There, they crossed the tracks, and Dan directed Ranger south toward one of the many freight platforms along the rail line. A painted sign advertised Frank Root’s Livery. At once, Dan’s intent became clear. Hide the horses. Scout the area. Locate Franklin and Lily before giving away their position. Indian-like stealth instead of a cavalry charge. The wiser option.
A man forking hay into a feed rack frowned at them when they brought their mounts to a halt beside the small corral to the right of the main building. He eyed the lather on the horses’ chests with stark disapproval. He leaned the pitchfork against the wall and stomped over, no doubt ready to blister their hides for their treatment of their mounts. But when his gaze climbed to Dan’s face, the creases of anger on his brow cleared into lines of concern. He broke into a jog.
“What’s wrong, Barrett? Never known you to push Ranger like this before.”
“A little girl’s life never hung in the balance before.”
The man slid a leg through the corral’s fence slats, bent his body, and emerged on the other side. As soon as Stone and Dan dismounted, he collected their reins and clucked soothingly to the exhausted animals.
“I’ll pay double your boarding fee, Frank, if you cool them down for us and see to their care. We pushed them through the night.”
“Don’t you worry none,” he said, already leading the horses toward the shade of the stable. “I’ll reward these two warriors right and proper.” He called to a lad already inside and handed the reins over with instructions for the boy to start rubbing them down. Then he pivoted and pierced Dan with a thoughtful stare. “Had another beast come in this morning in similar condition. Wasn’t as lathered, but I could tell he’d been ridden hard.”
Stone had started scouting the best route to take between buildings to get to the depot unseen when the livery owner’s words carried to him. He spun and nearly lunged at the man. “Was it a palomino? Fancy tooling on the saddle?”
“Yep. Along with a dun mare I recognized from Thompson’s Livery down in Steward’s Mill.”
Franklin.
“Did he have a child with him? A girl?”
Frank leaned a shoulder against the livery wall. “Yep. Said it was his daughter. Didn’t look much like him, though. Her bein’ blond and him bein’ dark.”
Stone’s heart thumped wildly. They’d been here. They were close. “How long ago?”
“First thing this mornin’. Said they was gonna grab a bite at his hotel before catchin’ the train. Fellow said he’d send for his horse once he got the girl home.”
“How’d she look?” Dan asked.
Stone held his breath, bracing for the answer. Please let her be all right.
“Couldn’t see much of her. Fellow had her wrapped in a blanket. Carryin’ her while she slept. All I could see was her hair.” Frank shrugged. “Truth to tell, I was more concerned with the horses than the kid. That palomino was limpin’ a bit. Had a rock in his hoof.”
Stone shifted his gaze to Dan. “He probably dosed her with laudanum.”
Dan nodded. “Good way to keep her from causing a scene when they board. It’ll mean she won’t be able to run away from him, too. Retrievin’ her won’t be easy.”
Stone clenched his jaw. “Then we’ll just have to retrieve him instead.”
Dan grinned.
“So . . . how do you want this to play out?” Dan asked from his position in the alleyway across from the Commercial Hotel.
Stone scanned the street. Too many people coming and going, what with the hotel across the way and the boarding house on the other side of the alley wall. “Long-lost friend. Anything else would draw too much attention.”
Dan nodded then slid his revolver from his holster. Stone opted for a blade.
They’d already scouted the platform and surrounding area. No sign of Franklin. But then, he’d wait until the last minute to board, not wanting anyone to grow too suspicious about him carting around a sleeping child who was well past the age of being carried.
Behind them, a train whistle pierced the morning air with its final call for boarding. A minute later, a handful of businessmen exited the hotel. Then a family with a pair of squabbling kids. Then two ladies with fancy plumes on their hats. Stone scanned each face, tension radiating through him, ready to strike.
Franklin was a hulking b
rute with long, straggly hair and a penchant for wearing buckskin britches dripping with fringe. The man’s costume begged the dime novelists of the world to immortalize him on the page, but as far as Stone knew, no one had. Restored a bit of his faith in the authorial profession.
Another man exited the hotel. Tall. Broad shoulders. Sack suit. Bowler hat. Well-trimmed hair. Stone nearly looked past him until the man tugged a young boy out from behind him. The lad, clothed in worn trousers, baggy shirt, and knit cap, didn’t seem to fit with the immaculate man. And he staggered about as if he wasn’t sure where the ground was. Stone’s nape tingled. Something wasn’t right.
Stone took a step out of the alley, needing to get closer, to try to make out the faces.
“What are you doing?” Dan hissed.
“That could be them. The man and the boy. Franklin could have changed their clothes.”
Dan edged closer. “Are you sure? If we go now and it’s not them, we risk scaring him off.”
“And if it is them and we don’t go, he could get Lily on that train.” Pulse roaring in his ears, Stone took another step. If only he could see their faces.
Dan’s voice echoed behind him. “Make the call.”
Stone hesitated, his gaze combing over the man making his way toward the station with the boy then shifting back to the handful of other people exiting the hotel. No one else matched Franklin’s build.
His gut told him to go. His spirit told him to go.
“We go.”
Decision made, the men wasted no time. Hiding their drawn weapons in the folds of their coats, they laughed and jostled each other as they made their way toward the depot. Stretching their stride to make up ground, they circled around and came at Franklin from the side. Dan waved at an imaginary comrade to excuse their change of direction while Stone steered them directly toward the boy.
“Walt Franklin?” Stone called out. “Is that you?”
The man’s shoulders flinched, but he didn’t turn. Stone grinned. He didn’t need him to turn. The flinch gave him away.
“It is you!” Stone and Dan maneuvered around him, cutting off his path to the station. “I haven’t seen you in a coon’s age, you old rascal. And look, you’re all gussied up. I almost didn’t recognize you.”
Franklin twisted his face to glare at Stone, finally removing all doubt of his identity. “Get out of my way, Stone,” he growled through gritted teeth as he smiled at the few people who had slowed to observe the reunion.
“And the lad,” Dan enthused loudly. “You must’ve grown a foot, boy. I wonder if I can still hoist you on my shoulders like I used to when you were little.”
Stone slung his left arm over Franklin’s shoulders, fanning out his coat to disguise the blade that he shoved against his rival’s side. He twisted the point just enough to let Franklin feel the threat and release his hold on Lily.
When Franklin’s grip loosened, Dan holstered his weapon and with an exaggerated grunt, lifted Lily over his head. Her glazed eyes registered no change as she flopped into her new position like a half-stuffed doll. Dan kept hold of her hands to protect her from falling backward. “Hold on to your uncle Dan now, and I’ll give you a ride.”
“We don’t have time for a ride,” Franklin admonished, though Stone’s blade kept him from moving to stop them. “Our train is boarding.”
“I’ll gallop the boy down to the freight platform then meet you back at the main station,” Dan said. He took off with a skipping stride toward the freight platform, making appropriate horse noises. Only Stone knew the detour he would take, escaping with Lily back to the livery. Dan would see to her protection.
Stone would see to Franklin.
28
“I don’t take kindly to people stealing my bounty.” Stone growled through teeth clenched into the shape of a grin for the sake of the other passengers approaching the platform.
“Then maybe you shouldn’t have put Dorchester off.” Franklin tried to twist away from the point of the knife, but Stone’s iron grip on his shoulder held him fast. “The man’s not exactly patient, you know. Your little stunt of taking the girl to Barrett’s ranch gave me the permission I needed to jump the bounty. If you’d been serious about collectin’, you’d have had the girl back in Houston by now.”
Stone kept his voice hard as he forced Franklin onto the platform and toward the line of people waiting to board. “There were complications.”
Franklin snorted. “Yeah. I heard about your complications. Fell for a skirt. Never pegged you for the gullible type, Hammond.”
“Tell me something.” Stone turned to smile at a passing lady. “Did Dorchester tell you Miss Atherton has legal custody of the kid?”
“Who told you that? The teacher?” He guffawed. “What’d she do? Blink her eyes at you until you believed her lies?”
Stone’s fingers bit into the man’s shoulders harder than necessary. Hard enough to make the big man bend slightly at the knees to escape the pain. “She had a paper. Signed by a judge. A paper a colleague of mine in Austin verified. Dorchester played us.”
“Ease up, man.” Franklin winced. Reluctantly, Stone dialed back the pressure. He had a role to play, after all. And it wasn’t a chivalrous part.
The family from the hotel with the quarrelsome kids slowed the steady progress of the line as one of the boys threw a tantrum and refused to board. Stone held Franklin back a few paces, not wanting to get too close to anyone. No one besides Franklin needed to hear what he was about to say.
“Why do you think I’ve wasted all this time wooing a dratted schoolmarm?” Stone turned his head and spat. “I ain’t about to be hauled away on kidnapping charges. Even if I snatched the girl and got her to Houston, what’s to stop the teacher from pressing charges against me? Or you, for that matter.”
Franklin shrugged. “You could kill her.”
Stone fought down a gag. Kill Charlotte? He couldn’t even pluck a hair from her head without regretting the pain it would cause her. “Better to woo her, gain her trust, and not have to worry about a hangman’s noose. You know how fickle women are.” He eyed Franklin knowingly. “Give ’em a little affection, make ’em promises, and soon they’ll be selling out their own kid for a chance at running away with a handsome devil like myself and the fat reward I’ll earn. ’Course, if I happen to take the reward and get the running away done before she catches on, well, that’s just a lesson learned, ain’t it?”
Franklin shook his head, a chuckle of admiration rumbling from his chest. “You always were a wily one, Hammond.”
Stone urged him one step closer to the train. The line was moving again now that the boy’s father had wrangled his screaming son and forced him up the steps. One after another, the passengers boarded. Link after link, the chain shortened, until only two people stood between Franklin and the railcar.
“Go to Dorchester,” Stone commanded, pressing the knife just a little closer to make sure Franklin understood the importance of compliance. “Tell him I don’t appreciate his interference. I’ll have the girl to him before the end of the month, and I’ll expect full compensation. If he doesn’t like the delay, that’s his problem. He should’ve leveled with me from the beginning.”
“I ain’t your errand boy, Stone.”
“No, but you’re Dorchester’s lap dog. You’ll tell him.” Stone ushered him a step closer to the train, but a subtle change in the way Franklin moved set Stone’s instincts flaring.
In a blink, Franklin reached across his midsection and drew a pistol from a shoulder holster under his coat. Stone did the only thing he could think of—he threw his body hard against Franklin, pinning his still-bent arm to his chest.
“I’m gonna miss you, man,” Stone declared, embracing a struggling Franklin to him in a bear hug he hoped looked more like a farewell offering than the stranglehold it was. If Franklin managed to get his finger on the trigger, he could blow a hole through them both. Stone was banking on the man’s self-preservation restraining him, but a
man eager to make a name for himself was unpredictable at best. Stone needed to claim control. Fast.
Careful to keep his knife arm on the inside of Franklin’s coat as he wrapped him up, Stone inched the blade toward the tender flesh of the man’s underarm. Just a little higher. There!
He jutted the knife upward in a sharp thrust. Franklin grunted.
“Drop the gun or I push it in to the hilt,” Stone growled in his ear. The blade was only about an inch into the fleshy part of his side beneath his armpit. Far enough to draw blood, but not far enough to do any real damage. A full thrust, though, could sever a blood vessel. Franklin stilled, recognizing his peril.
Stone gave him a few rough pats on the back, jiggling the wound painfully against the partially embedded blade, encouraging him to comply. Franklin swore under his breath.
A throat cleared nearby. “Time to board, sir,” the porter stated. “We have a schedule to maintain.”
“Drop it and get on the train,” Stone ground out, “or I’ll drop you on the platform with a gusher that will drain you before the doc arrives.” He pounded Franklin’s back again then raised his voice. “Take care of yourself, Walt.” Stone tightened his hug. Franklin groaned.
Finally, something shifted against Stone’s belly. Keeping his grip against Franklin’s upper body, Stone sucked in his abdomen and pulled his hips back. A hard metallic object slid down his front and thudded onto his boot.
Stone immediately released Franklin, slid his knife free, and gave him a friendly shove toward the steps. Franklin stumbled, but righted himself before the porter could offer assistance.
“See you at the end of the month.” Without looking down, Stone slid his foot out from under Franklin’s pistol then covered it with the sole of his boot. He waved along with the others who’d gathered on the platform, yet he didn’t relax his guard until he caught a glimpse through a window of Franklin taking a seat near the front of the railcar, his right hand gripping his left arm and pinching it close to his side. He’d not be making any mad dashes to leap from the train.