Wildfire in His Arms

  He reached Bismarck just before dusk. He went straight to the sheriff’s office to see if bounty hunters had turned Max in for the reward. But she wasn’t in jail, and the sheriff had left a note that he would be out of town for a few days. If bounty hunters had taken her, that could be why she hadn’t been turned in yet. They might still be in town waiting for the sheriff to return.

  He went to the train station next. It was closed for the night, but the short schedule was posted on the wall. A westbound train left early every morning, one bound for the east every evening. It appeared he wouldn’t find out until tomorrow morning how many passengers had departed today and in which direction. But he could search the hotels in the meantime. If Max was still in Bismarck, he would find her.

  He stabled his horse first, which turned out to be a stroke of luck. His horse was familiar with Max’s. They nickered at each other in passing, which made Degan examine the chestnut gelding more closely. While her horse wasn’t distinctive, it did have a small white patch on the neck just under the mane where it wouldn’t usually be noticed. But he’d rubbed down her horse enough times to notice it.

  He called the stableman over to him and nodded toward the chestnut. “Who left this horse here, a man or a woman?”

  “Jackson Bouchard did.”

  “Who was with him?”

  “No one. He came in this morning with his horse and this one. Mr. Bouchard always stables here. He asked if I wanted to buy the gelding off him, but I didn’t. Don’t want more horses than I need.”

  Degan’s panic spiked so he reverted to instinct and simply ran to the boardinghouse nearby where he’d been directed when he asked around for a scout after he and Max had arrived in Bismarck. He was afraid she was dead. Nothing else occurred to him as an explanation for why she no longer needed her horse, but then nothing sensible was running through his mind just then, no thought other than getting his hands on Jackson Bouchard. She hadn’t trusted the supposed half-breed. She knew Jackson had been working with the train robbers. He wouldn’t want to leave loose ends like that. But why wait so long to come back for her? Unless it took him that long to find men willing to help him. No, if Jackson had wanted to kill Max, he could have killed her when they’d come back to the cabin and Degan was passing out.

  Degan didn’t knock, he just kicked Jackson’s door in as soon as he got to it. The man was sitting in a small tub naked. No one else was in the room. He’d started to reach for his rifle on the floor next to him, but stopped when he saw Degan’s gun was already drawn and aiming at his heart.

  “She’s not dead!” Jackson blurted out.

  “Where is she?”

  “On the train heading west.”

  Degan cocked his gun. “You’re lying. She wouldn’t leave her horse.”

  “She didn’t have a choice!”

  “Talk fast, Bouchard.”

  “I thought you were wounded.”

  “Wounds heal. Say something I need to hear while you still can.”

  “They were lawmen, a sheriff and two deputies. I heard they were asking around town for you and her. I found them and asked why. They showed me her wanted poster. That was a lot of money to ignore.”

  “So you led them right to us?”

  “To her. They didn’t want to deal with you if they didn’t have to. We rode all night so they could catch the train this morning.”

  “They’re taking her to Texas?”

  “That’s what they said.”

  “Why would they go west to go to Texas?”

  “They wanted the first train out so they wouldn’t be here when you arrived. They figured you would go east.”

  “Why is her horse still here?”

  “They didn’t have horses themselves. They came all the way from Texas by stage and train, so they didn’t need them and thought they wouldn’t—until they got here. Took half a day to find them a few they could rent or borrow. They didn’t want to buy them. When we got back to town, they tossed me her reins and said I could keep her horse as a bonus for helping them finish their business without bloodshed.”

  “You’re not keeping it.”

  “No, of course not.”

  “I’ll take that money they gave you, too. You don’t get to profit from this.”

  “But she’s an outlaw!”

  “No, she isn’t, and I was going to get that cleared up for her. Your interference has done nothing but make me want to shoot you right now. If they’ve hurt her, I will come back and kill you. Now where’s that money?”

  “I don’t have it,” Jackson admitted. “The sheriff wasn’t here to help them out with that. And their town doesn’t have a telegraph. But they said they would send the money here as soon as they got home.”

  “Gullible as well as despicable.” Degan turned to leave.

  “Hey! What about the money you owe me?”

  “You’re kidding, right?” Degan didn’t pause to hear the ­answer.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  “YOU’RE NOT FROM BINGHAM Hills, are you?”

  It was Max’s first opportunity to talk to Saul Bembry alone, well, at least without Grady or Andy within listening range. And they’d finally removed the gag from her mouth. Grady had gotten annoyed pretty quick at her yelling at him so much. He also didn’t like her describing how Degan was going to kill him when he caught up with them, so he was keeping her gagged unless she was being fed.

  They were at a stage stop on the long stretch east of Bozeman. There had been many stops after they’d left the train at Billings. Not all of them were in towns. Unlike Boulder, which had grown up around a stage stop, this stop only had a trading post next to it. They only had about fifteen minutes to eat and relieve themselves before the stage departed again with fresh horses and a new driver.

  Saul had been left to guard her while she was sitting at a table, since only her hands were tied in front of her, not her feet. Grady and Andy were getting them some food.

  “Am now,” Saul answered her. “Moved there this year with my wife and kids. Never been made to feel so at home in a place so fast. I’m a carpenter by trade.”

  “Then what are you doing with these two?”

  “I moved to Bingham Hills because I heard it was growing, but it wasn’t by the time I got there. I tried making furniture for a while, but there wasn’t much call for that either.”

  Max didn’t like hearing that. It confirmed that Carl wasn’t around any longer, and Evan must not be carrying on with his father’s agenda. Evan might even have moved away. Rich now and out from under his father’s thumb, why would he stick around? But if the town was stagnating now, everyone would blame her for that, too.

  “But I got talked into staying,” Saul continued. “Was promised that building was going to start up again soon. And I was offered the deputy job in the meantime. Didn’t expect to have to travel for it, though. I miss my family.”

  She almost snorted at him. He’d been gone less than a month, while she’d been gone nearly two years. She missed her family. She wondered if they would let her see Gran, or if they would lynch her immediately.

  “Have you met my grandmother? Your wife probably cooks with her eggs.”

  He grinned. “Who hasn’t met Widow Dawson.”

  “How is she?”

  He shrugged. “She was fine the last I saw her.”

  More proof that her grandmother’s letter had been tampered with. “What about my brother, Johnny?”

  “Can’t say if I’ve met your brother.” Saul glanced at Grady and Andy, then down at the table. “I think you should stop—”

  Stop what? Asking? Worrying? Caring? Probably asking. He obviously had orders not to tell her anything, even about her family. Grady’s orders. And with Grady sitting down next to her right then, she wasn’t going to be able to ask any more questions of any kind.

  She picked up a piece of bread from the plate Andy had put before her, then glanced behind her at the entrance as if she’d heard something outside. She’
d started doing that a few towns back. It got results. It made them nervous and they’d started watching the door of whatever canteen or restaurant they were in. It was her little way of getting even, reminding them that Degan might be following them. That really worried them.

  If he was following them, he wouldn’t be able to catch up. Common sense should have told them that, considering they hadn’t run into a single delay. If Degan even took the right train, somehow figuring out that Grady was going west before heading south in order to keep him off their trail, he’d be a day behind them. He couldn’t outride one. The stages were slower than trains, but still faster than a horse because they didn’t slow down to rest their animals, just swapped them out at each stage station. He could outride a stage, but only if he left his palomino behind, swapping for new mounts along the way, and she couldn’t imagine him doing that. Besides, he’d have to sleep sometime, and the stages weren’t stopping for that, either. At only one stop had a fresh driver not taken over for a tired one. So any way you looked at it, they would still be a full day ahead of Degan—if he was following.

  She needed to escape so she could hide out along the road somewhere and wait for Degan to pass, or delay them somehow. But escape didn’t look promising. If she wasn’t sitting down with a guard next to her at the rest stops, Grady’s hand was clamped to her arm, taking her in and out of them. Even in the coach she ended up sitting between two of the three of them. Grady expected her to try something and was making sure she couldn’t.

  She’d barely finished her meal when Grady stood up. “Get up, it’s time to go,” he said before he tied the gag back over her mouth.

  As Grady practically dragged her to the stagecoach with Andy and Saul following close behind, she tried to come up with a plan. They’d probably reach Butte sometime tomorrow or late tonight and be back on a train again. Butte would be her last chance to escape. She was going to have to feign some sort of sickness in advance of their arrival there, like today. Something that would require Grady to take her to a doctor when they arrived in Butte. If she could make them miss just one train departure, Degan might roll into town on the next stage. But without some obvious symptoms such as a fever or vomiting, Grady wouldn’t buy it. She’d been unable to think of anything else except maybe fainting. But she wouldn’t put it past Grady to punch her to see if she was faking. That’s how despicable the sheriff had become.

  Grady got into the stage first, then Andy pushed her up into it. Grady had her sit between him and Andy, and Saul took the last spot on the bench next to Andy. Across from them sat a dark-haired man dressed in trousers and a suit jacket and a woman with a big bonnet and her young son, who amused himself by playing with a big wooden toy horse. They’d joined them at the last stop, and the man didn’t appear to be traveling with the woman and the boy. A cowboy joined them at this stop, tying his horse to the back of the coach.

  The coach was full now, which might slow it down a little. The dark-haired man mostly slept and didn’t say much when he was awake. The older woman had given Max some disapproving glances when she’d seen that Max was gagged and her hands were tied. The little boy had stared at her and asked his mother why the man had a scarf tied over his mouth. “Don’t look at him, Tommy. He’s an outlaw,” the mother had said. Grady nodded.

  Now, the cowboy was staring at Max with interest. “Why’s he being restrained and gagged?”

  Grady merely showed him his badge in answer.

  Max wondered if Grady would punch her in front of these witnesses if she tried fainting right there in the coach. It wouldn’t be as dramatic as it would be if she were standing. She’d just have to slump over Grady or Andy. They’d have to conclude that something was wrong with her when they couldn’t revive her. She’d have time to do it again before they reached Butte just in case they doubted that she was ill.

  She was waiting until they were about halfway between stops before she tried it. But someone else had been waiting for that moment, too. The coach slowed and came to a stop. The dark-haired man had already drawn a gun. Grady was looking out one window, Saul the other, to see why they’d stopped. She was probably the only one who had noticed that the gun across from them hadn’t been drawn in self-defense; it was pointed at them. They were being robbed from inside the coach?

  “Drop your weapons,” the dark-haired man said.

  Max would have grinned if she weren’t gagged. With their money stolen and no quick way to get any more, Grady and his men would end up stranded in Butte for weeks! Well, that was, if they remained alive. But from the expression on Grady’s face she could see he had realized that, too, and he wasn’t about to get robbed without putting up a fight.

  He didn’t immediately reach for his gun. Saul had already dropped his on the floor. Andy, apparently, had decided to be the hero; he drew and aimed. He got shot for it. Which was when the woman, instead of screaming, hit the dark-haired man, who was sitting next to her, with her purse. And she hit exactly what she was aiming for, too, the hand holding the gun.

  The stage robber’s weapon didn’t fall out of his hand, but it got pointed toward the floor. That was when Grady drew and shot the robber. Grady then jumped out of the coach to deal with whoever had stopped it. Saul quickly retrieved his gun and went outside to help Grady. Andy was slumped forward, still holding his gun, although it was lax in his hand, now lying on the seat. Right next to Max . . .

  “I wouldn’t,” the cowboy warned her.

  Well, hell, Max thought. Now he had his gun drawn? She couldn’t tell if he was with the robbers or just doing a good deed for the lawmen. Probably the latter, since he didn’t say anything else. The woman with the lethal purse only gave him a brief glance before she gathered her boy in her arms to shield him from the dead body on the seat next to her.

  Max leaned forward to see if Andy was still alive. He was. His eyes were still open and his face was contorted in pain. She looked for the wound, then winced, finding it near his heart. He was going to need a doctor—as long as he didn’t die before they could get to one.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  THERE HAD ONLY BEEN two stage robbers, and now both of them were dead, their bodies tied to the top of the coach. They would be turned over to the sheriff in Butte for burial.

  The failed robbery hadn’t delayed them long, only about twenty minutes. Andy passed out soon after the stage starting moving again, but he was still breathing. Saul was pressing a cloth the woman had given him to the wound to stanch the blood flow.

  One more stage stop was before Butte, but it was just a house and a stable. Still, Max lowered her gag long enough to suggest they pause there to take the bullet out of Andy. Grady didn’t answer, just lunged toward her to put the gag back in place. She did that before he could reach her. Bastard. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t remove the gag herself with her hands tied in front of her, but every time she did it, Grady tied the gag even tighter. Which hurt.

  She finally got the message and stopped trying. But the last time he’d also warned her that he would tie her hands behind her back if she removed the gag again. The only reason he hadn’t done that to begin with was because they’d have to untie her and retie her every time they ate, which would have been too much trouble.

  They arrived in Butte early the next morning. Andy was taken straight to the doctor on a stretcher. Saul took his bag and Andy’s with him and went to find the local sheriff to inform him of the attempted robbery. Grady picked up his own valise and her saddlebags and, with her arm in his other hand, followed behind the stretcher.

  On the way, she heard the train whistle blow. Grady swore, hearing it. She would have laughed, was almost tempted to remove the gag so she could. They would probably have just managed to catch that train if the stage robbers hadn’t shown up and shot Andy.

  Grady still went to the train station, dragging her with him once the doctor started treating Andy’s wound. That worried her. He wouldn’t leave Andy behind, would he, just to catch the next train? He and An
dy were friends, had worked together for years. Of course he wouldn’t leave him. That would be too coldhearted, even for Grady.

  The train schedule was posted. The next one wasn’t leaving until tomorrow at 10:00 a.m. Grady bought three tickets. That answered her question. He was going to leave without Andy. But this delay might still be all that was needed for Degan to catch up. If he’d found out in which direction she’d gone in time to catch the next train in Bismarck. If he’d taken the same stages she’d taken after that. If he was even following her. That was too many ifs to ease her anxiety.

  They returned to the doctor’s office to await news about Andy’s condition. When Saul joined them a while later, Grady sent him to get them a room at the nearest hotel. One room. Max started making noises under her gag, a lot of them. She needed a damn bath. She hadn’t had one since they’d captured her at the pond a week ago.

  Grady finally lowered her gag to demand, “What?”

  “I need my own room.”

  “No.”

  “Then I need time alone in the room for a bath. You do, too. We all stink.”

  He couldn’t dispute that. He put her gag back in place and took her to the hotel. Saul was still at the desk checking in. Grady left her and the bags with him.

  “See that she gets a bath, but don’t leave her alone in the room,” he told Saul, then left to go back to the doctor.

  Red-faced, she followed Saul up the stairs. But he was even more embarrassed than she was. As soon as the water arrived, he got a chair, took it to the window, and just sat there, looking out at the street with his back to her. She could have told him not to bother, she wasn’t taking her clothes off. She did take the gag off. She ended up dripping water all over the floor, too, when she got out of the tub. She didn’t care. Didn’t apologize either when Saul used one of the towels to wipe the floor.

  “You should change into dry clothes at least,” he mumbled.