Wages Of Sin

Wages of Sin Valerie Whisenand Hard Shell Word Factory

Wages of Sin

Valerie Whisenand

To my husband, Joe, who broke pencils, sold my typewriter, dragged me kicking and screaming into the electronic age, and keeps my computer upgraded in spite of my fears that it may someday rise up and eat me. Thanks, Honey.

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Copyright 2000, Valerie Whisenand ISBN: 1-58200-527-3 Published June 2000 by Hard Shell Word Factory PO Box 161 Amherst Jct. WI 54407 [email protected] http://www.hardshell.com Cover art copyright 2000, Dirk A. Wolf All electronic rights reserved. All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatever to anyone bearing the same name or names. These characters are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

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Chapter 1 Kansas—1878 RUBY McKay cast a furtive glance at the icy, rutted road in front of her brother-in-law’s empty, gray frame house. Remnants of the blizzard lingered in the afternoon sky. Sparse slivers of light illuminated the barren fields and what was left of the neglected fruit orchard. She couldn’t help trembling as she climbed back into her spring wagon and wrapped her skirts and cloak tightly about her legs. What she’d just done had been wrong, but she’d had to do it. For the sake of Emma and the baby. Heart pounding, she kicked the strongbox further beneath the wagon seat so she wouldn’t have to look at the evidence of her transgression. If pious Judge Caleb Stone ever learned she was the one who’d stolen the proof of Emma’s infidelity, his self-righteous wrath would indeed rain down on her...on them all. “I’m not a thief,” Ruby insisted. “Please, God, I’m not a thief. Not really.” Surely an omniscient Providence would see that she couldn’t leave her sister’s revealing diary in Caleb’s hands. It was bad enough that he now suspected Emma’s three-week-old baby was not his. Allowing the damning

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confirmation of that fact to remain in his possession was unthinkable. With a shudder, Ruby unwound the driving lines from the wagon brake and spoke reassuringly to her restless mules. “Easy Ben. Whoa, Jessie.” The sooner she got back home to the McKay farm and saw for herself that her injured sister was all right, the happier she’d be. She glanced at the cold, stiff leather of the reins in her hands. Where were her warm gloves? Her head snapped around. The house! She’d laid the gloves on Caleb’s desk while she’d tried to pry open the small strongbox containing Emma’s diary! Failing that, she’d chosen to steal the entire box. Such reprehensible behavior had obviously obliterated any other sane thoughts. Did she dare delay long enough to go back inside and retrieve the evidence of her presence? Wideeyed, she stared at the forbidding house. If Caleb came home and caught her in there.... Fate made her decision for her. The solitary figure of retribution had rounded a bend and was fast approaching, his horse at a gallop, the tails of his great, black coat flapping out behind him. She pressed her fingertips to her lips, her heart in her throat. “Oh, dear Lord! No!” Caleb reined to a halt in front of her wagon. His horse was blowing clouds of frozen vapor, its flanks lathered in spite of the weather. True to her expectations, her brother-in-law immediately confronted her with a glare more frigid than winter on the Kansas prairie. “What are you doing here? I told you Emma and I don’t need you anymore.”

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Ruby considered carefully. He might be easier to elude if he didn’t know his unhappy wife had finally left him for good. She only hoped the stolen strongbox beneath her feet wasn’t visible from his higher vantage point. “I was just leaving.” Ruby eyed the basket slung by its handle from the pommel of his saddle. “Surely, you don’t have the baby in there?” “Of course not.” He dismounted slowly, cautiously, lifted down the basket and started toward the house. “Then where is he?” Ruby demanded. “Emma said you took him with you.” “So, I did.” She couldn’t see his eyes very well in the shadow of the brim of his hat, but his smile clearly ridiculed her. “And I have him inside my coat for protection from the weather, as any good father would do.” There was something disquieting about the way he said, “good father.” Ruby couldn’t leave, even though she feared for her own safety. Not till she made certain little Moses was safe. She tried the only ruse she thought might work on a man the likes of Caleb Stone—subservience. “Please, may I see the baby again before I go?” “Come inside.” “No.” She stepped closer and watched his face for a sign he suspected her of lying. “I...I really must

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be on my way. I just want a peek at him.” That he obviously thought her daft was of no concern. The important thing was, he was moving to grant her request. Striding to the rear of Ruby’s wagon he placed the basket on the floorboards, opened his coat, and gently laid the sleeping infant in the basket, covering him with blankets up to his chin. Ruby reached out a finger to tenderly stroke Moses’ soft cheek. Caleb had done well; the baby was quite warm. “Did you and my wife visit long?” “Not very.” And not here, Ruby added for the sake of her guilty conscience. This was the first time she had seen this man exhibit any sign of normal human kindness. It would behoove her to remember what he had done to Emma and what he might do to this innocent babe, given access to the damning information in Emma’s diary. Ruby knew Caleb was watching her, waiting for her to take her leave. She didn’t know what to do next. He was bigger, faster, stronger. Escape would have to be by her wits. “I couldn’t get the damper on the stove to draw properly,” Ruby said offhand. “It’s awfully chilly in the house.” “Emma knows how.” “I’m afraid it’s broken. Perhaps you should go check. I’ll watch Moses.”

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“It’s too cold for the child out here. Do what you please. I’m taking him to his mother.” He started to reach for the basket, then paused. Something in her eyes must have given away the fact that Emma wasn’t in the two-storey house anymore. Caleb’s gaze suddenly focused on her face. He scowled, then turned on his heel and sprinted up the steps to the porch. She saw him toss aside his broad-brimmed hat as he slammed the front door behind him. In seconds, light from a lone lamp was flickering through the frosty window panes. Ruby knew he would search for Emma before returning to the wagon to demand an explanation. Still, it wasn’t a large house. She saw the light fade, then reappear upstairs in Emma’s empty bedroom. Ruby acted swiftly. Caleb’s sorrel was ground-hitched, its sides heaving, its nostrils blowing clouds of icy condensation. To leave the horse behind was to invite disaster. She snatched up the loose reins. “Come on, boy. Let’s go.” It wasn’t like she was stealing Caleb’s horse any more than she’d stolen his strongbox. She merely needed to insure her safe departure. By the time the judge struggled through the drifts to his nearest neighbor’s and borrowed another mount, she’d be miles away. And she’d have Moses with her. Tired, winded, the gelding refused to be hurried. Ruby tugged frantically on his bridle. Icy clumps of snow weighted the hem of her skirt, soaked her petticoats. She glanced up. The light from the lamp had returned to the ground floor!

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Caleb appeared on the porch, his broad-shouldered form filling the doorway. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? And where is my wife?” Ignoring him, Ruby looped the horse’s reins through the metal armrest on the side of the wagon seat. She moved the baby’s basket forward where she could look after it while she drove. Her only hope was to bluff. Hopefully, Caleb would think her incapable of decisive action until it was too late. She hoisted herself into the driver’s seat. Snapping the lines, she yelled to her mules. They jumped, lunging against the traces. Caleb flung his lamp into the snow and cursed. Before the team could summon speed, his long strides had carried him across the thirty-foot distance from the porch. He grasped the bridle of the nearest mule and halted it with a shout. When he turned to face Ruby his eyes were blazing. “Get down.” “No! Let go of my team.” Working his way along the lines toward her, he took the reins from her icy fingers. “You came all this way with no driving gloves? My, my, how careless of you.” Her gloves! Panic filled her. Caleb had been in his study. He must have seen her gloves on his desk. Soon, he would know everything. “Let me go, or all of Kansas will hear how you beat your wife.” She managed to keep her tone even,

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her voice strong, in spite of the quaking in her bones. Stone laughed. “You may as well understand what your position is, dear sister-in-law. I have friends in President Hayes’s cabinet as well as the State Senate. Do you think anyone will take the word of a mere school teacher over mine? You and your simpering sister will never get away with vilifying me.” Ruby could see the satisfied gleam in his eyes. Worse than his threats was the realization that he was undoubtedly right. Her chances of having the truth believed were nil. Caleb glared up at her. “You, madam, are trying my patience. Hand me the baby and climb down.” He rested one booted foot on the wagon step. She held her ground. “Not until you swear no harm will come to him.” “And why would I harm him?” Caleb asked with a slow drawl. “Is there some reason? Something else you want to tell me, Miss McKay?” “No.” He was smiling openly, now. “Oh? Then why the concern? Surely, you don’t think a man would harm his own flesh and blood?” His hand shot out. His fingers closed painfully around her wrist. Ruby’s startled cry sliced through the air as he jumped back, jerking her from the wagon. She grasped his greatcoat to try to break her fall. He backhanded her across the face, sent her sprawling in the snow. Ruby scrambled to regain her footing. He was reaching for the baby’s basket! She came up behind

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him, pounding his back with her fists. “No! Leave him alone!” Caleb wheeled, wrapped his arms around her, pulled her to him. “All right, woman, have it your way. The infant can wait. I always thought I glimpsed a wanton beneath your Puritanical attitude. No one with such an appealing body and fiery temper can be cold to the core. Let’s see how long it takes you to melt for me.” Suffocating in his tight embrace, Ruby gasped for breath, twisting and writhing to free herself. Caleb pushed back her hood. He buried his face in the soft flesh of her neck. His free hand groped under her coat, found her small, firm breast and kneaded it savagely. No man had ever touched her that way! For Caleb Stone to do so was a horrid anathema. A despoiling she could not allow. Caleb’s overcoat had fallen open in the struggle. Ruby felt the hard butt of the revolver he always carried. Her fingers groped wildly. They closed around the pistol’s grip. Jerked it free of his belt. His eyes widened in disbelief. He released her. “Give me that.” “No.” Ruby held the heavy Colt in both hands while pulling the hammer back with her thumbs. “Get away from my wagon.” “You won’t get far.” “I know what I’m doing.”

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“Do you? I think not.” Hands outstretched as if in supplication, Caleb edged closer, his back to the house. In the dim light, Ruby didn’t see his left hand make a sudden motion but she did feel it take hold of the pistol, try to twist it from her grasp. The sharp crack of a shot echoed a moment ahead of her own shrill scream. Caleb’s horse reared, pulled loose and ran off. Fortunately, her stalwart mules held their ground. Afraid to move, Ruby watched the feverish menace leaving Caleb’s eyes. Stunned, he slowly doubled over, then slumped to the ground. The bullet had penetrated his uplifted hand and gone on to hit him in the head. His arms and legs twitched spasmodically—like the wings of a freshly butchered chicken. Bitter gorge rose in her throat. She crouched over Caleb’s still body, pistol at the ready. Blood was spreading beneath his head, melting the snow and defiling the pure whiteness with its crimson stain. The skin was torn from the back of his left hand. Splinters of bone stuck out. The sickening odor of powderburned flesh filled the air. She waited, holding her breath. If he moved, breathed, she’d have to send for help. Her Christian upbringing would insist upon it. Nothing stirred, save the icy prairie wind. Caleb was dead. All she’d wanted to do was help her sister and instead, she’d become a murderer! If only he hadn’t tried to wrest the gun from her! Then again, if he

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hadn’t grabbed her in the first place she wouldn’t have had to defend herself and none of this would have happened. And if Emma hadn’t been so weak, so vulnerable.… Sobering, Ruby came to her senses. There was no use fussing about the past. What was done was done and couldn’t be changed, no matter how much a body prayed or wished it could. But now what? She began to frown as she stared up at the darkening sky. Winter storms could kill as easily as a pistol. Once the weather closed in, unlucky travelers had been known to freeze to death just a few yards from the safety of a warm hearth. Clearly, it was time to start for home without delay. Caleb was beyond help. Therefore her responsibility was to the living. Later, she’d worry about the consequences of what she’d done. Right now, her only concern was what was best for the baby.

HELLFIRES burned in Caleb Stone’s temples. Tongues of pain streaked up his arm like flames. Bitch. Whore. Harlot. He’d have Ruby McKay’s head on a pike before he was finished with her. He hunched over the blood-spattered saddle horn, his great, black overcoat flapping, and let his horse carry him blindly down the snow-covered road. No woman, least of all a McKay, was worth even one hair

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on the head of a righteously appointed lawgiver like himself. That was surely the reason her bullet had failed to do its worst. Caleb raised his resonant, orator’s voice to the heavens and began to quote, “’Hear me, O God: lighten mine eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death; lest mine enemy say, I have prevailed against him!’” Deliverance was his due. God owed him that. Calling out, he fully expected a miracle. If not a direct bolt from Heaven, at least a suitable substitute to bring him through this life-threatening situation. His sorrel made a sharp turn, slowed, and halted, nickering softly. Blood had caked Caleb’s right eye closed. He was able to force open his left and peer through the darkness at the bobbing approach of a hurricane lamp. There were at least two people besides the bearer of the lamp. It was clear he’d been rescued, just as he’d anticipated. “Judge Stone? Oh, Lord-a-mercy, it is. Come here, Gideon, and give me a hand with him.” Recognizing Dan Tollefsen’s voice and trusting his broad-shouldered, farmer’s strength, Caleb let himself be helped to the ground. “The Lord is my deliverer,” he boomed. “Is that you, Mr. Tollefsen?” “It sure is, Judge. Now, you relax and let me and Gideon get you inside. Doc Powell is here, too. He’s the one started us out lookin’ for you.” “She shot me,” Caleb said.

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“Who shot you?” Dan’s voice rose in disbelief. “Ruby McKay, the schoolteacher. My poor wife’s sister.” Aware of the emotional impact his statements had to be making, Caleb paused for effect. Dramatically, he waited for the men’s murmurs to die down. “Doc said he’d heard you was hurt, Judge, but he didn’t say it was Ruby what shot you!” Caleb spotted the doctor’s slim form silhouetted in the doorway of the Tollefsen house. Only Ruby knew what she’d done, so Powell must have spoken with her. Good. He’d also know where Emma was hiding. Chances were excellent that his dear wife had simply fled to her sister’s. Emma never did have much imagination. Doc Powell held open the front door while the brothers half carried the injured man through. “Put him in the parlor.” Dizzy, Caleb sank heavily into the closest chair, wincing as Powell immediately began to probe his head wound. “Ouch! Careful, you sot.” “I’ve not had a drink all evening,” the doctor replied. “Tonight, I wanted my wits about me.” “To find me? Miss McKay told you what she’d done?” “In a manner of speaking,” Powell said, concentrating on his work. “Now, hold still while I clean this and then I’ll see to your hand.”

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Between the cold and the shock, Caleb had nearly forgotten the bullet’s damage to his left hand. He cautiously lifted the dangling member, supporting his forearm by the wrist. Entering his palm, the lead projectile had shattered the bones, destroyed everything in its path, and exited out the back, taking the flesh with it. Caleb tried to move his fingers. They didn’t respond. The bitch had crippled him! He’d spent four years dodging Confederate bullets in the War Between the States and come away with little more than a lingering case of dysentery. Now, a woman had done this to him! Staring at the wound, he ignored Powell’s ministrations. It was his left hand, so he’d still be able to write and sit a horse, but dammit, he’d be less than perfect. He knew the Good Book. His body was a temple and Ruby McKay had permanently scarred it. She would pay. That, he vowed. Dan Tollefsen’s wife, Martha, brought a basin, hot water and bandages. Her hands were trembling. Her eyes filled with tears. “Put that down before you spill it,” Dan told her. Caleb could see that Martha was dazed. Worried for him. It wouldn’t do to have the foolish sow lose control. In her present condition she might reveal her true feelings. He had enough to worry about without adding Martha’s weeping and wailing. Or, worse yet, having to try to explain away any ridiculous words of love from her.

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“Go into another room, Martha,” he ordered through clenched teeth. Thankfully, she obeyed. The doctor lifted Caleb’s hand, examined it and laid it in the bowl. From his expression, it was clear that Powell assessed the damage much as he had. It was bad. “I’m sorry I didn’t have more experience with such things in ‘64,” Powell said. “But I spent most of my time in Washington, treating illness.” He turned to Dan and asked for whiskey. “And drinking, no doubt,” Caleb said. “The whiskey is to cleanse the wound,” the doctor countered. Accepting the bottle he handed it first to Stone. “Perhaps you should drink some before I use it on your hand.” Caleb waved it off. “My strength is sufficient. The Lord will sustain me.” “So be it.” Adam Powell put the bottle to his own lips, took a deep draught, then inverted it and dribbled its contents slowly into the gaping hole in the back of Caleb’s hand. Golden liquid ran dirty brown into the basin. The last thing Caleb remembered was the sound of his own scream.

RUBY ROCKED Moses in Mama’s old oak rocker, cradling him gently. “It’ll be all right, little one.

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You’ll see. I’ll not let any harm come to you.” The drowsy baby made no sound. Ruby’s thoughts drifted. The events of the prior evening haunted her, spinning through her mind. Hardest to accept was the fact that her only sister had died in her absence. She’d been so young, so full of life. And she’d relied on Ruby the way an innocent child relies on its mother. Trouble was, Emma wasn’t so innocent. Ruby’s jaw clenched. If only she hadn’t gone to Stone’s to fetch the journal. And yet, if she hadn’t acted, the judge would still be alive, still have the damning diary. Emma’s poor, motherless babe would be much worse off than he was now. But why, oh why, had she shot? Her jaw clenched. Had it really been an accident or had she shot because Caleb Stone had left her no choice? Everything about his actions had convinced her he’d been going to have his way with her. Cruelly. Just the way he’d always treated Emma. And afterwards, he might very well have left her to freeze to death, there on the prairie. Her conscience spasmed at the recollection. When the authorities came to arrest her she wouldn’t even be able to claim she’d purposely sent Dr. Powell to see about Caleb, would she? Not honestly. He’d merely been present, tending to Emma...to Emma’s body...when she’d returned home and blurted out her confession of what she’d done. Ruby pushed her feet against the floor, set the rocker in motion again, and held the baby closer. She

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had killed a man, plain and simple. And God help her, she was glad. She shivered. If she escaped the charge of murder for shooting Caleb, there was still a good chance the townspeople would reject her as their children’s teacher on moral grounds. She didn’t blame them. If it was necessary to sell the McKay farm and move on, she would. Her dreams had once included a trip west. Maybe it was time to act on that wish. She smiled down at Moses. “Would you like that, darling? Would you like to see the wild west with me?” Sighing, she kissed his warm, soft cheek. If she went away she’d be leaving all her closest friends, as well as the graves of everyone dear. To her, that would be a trial of the worst sort. All her roots were in Kansas. Still, if self-imposed exile was the price she had to pay for ridding the world of Caleb Stone, then so be it. She was glad he was dead. Such a beast didn’t deserve to live. Not when sweet Emma lay dead in the next room because of his cruelty. If she had it to do over again, Ruby knew she would pull the trigger of the Army colt on purpose. It would be easy. In truth, almost a blessing.

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CALEB AWOKE in the bed at Tollefsen’s. A lamp cast a flickering shadow on the ceiling. Garish cabbage roses dotted the wallpaper. The strange yet slightly familiar surroundings baffled him momentarily. Then he felt the throbbing in his hand and everything came back to him. Adam Powell was the only other person present. “You feeling better?” he asked. “What do you think?” Alone with the doctor, Caleb felt free to speak as plainly as he wanted. “Oh, I imagine you hurt like hell.” Powell seemed unimpressed by his rancor. That galled Caleb the more. “You’re damn right. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you hurt me on purpose. Adam shrugged. “Think what you will.” “Ruby McKay’s been telling you tales about me, hasn’t she?” Caleb asked, cradling his bandaged hand. “Some.” “Did she tell you she shot me?” Nodding again, the doctor leaned back. “She did. And with relish, if I may say so.” He smiled slightly.

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Though his wits were not as sharp and clear as usual, Caleb was still well equipped to play Powell’s game. He managed to smile back. “My wife will uphold my version of the story, of course. Emma’s sister simply became unhinged and tried to take our baby. I was shot trying to stop her. She’s always been jealous. Old maids are like that. I’ll bet she teaches school just so she can pretend all those children are hers.” Powell laughed. “Old maid? I don’t know how old Ruby is, but I’d hardly class her as that.” He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped between them. “How long have you been beating your wife?” “Don’t be ridiculous. Emma is a child. Sometimes she needs to feel the hand of discipline. I’d hardly call that a beating.” “Oh, really? Well, I would.” Caleb shrugged. His head had begun to throb where the bullet had grazed him. It was obvious to him that Powell had taken up with Ruby McKay. Perhaps even bedded her. Someday, when the doctor was in one of his drunken states and likely to answer truthfully, he’d have to remember to ask if the woman was more tractable on her back than on her feet. He stared at his accuser. “What’s your point?” “Nothing much,” Powell said. “Simply that you’ll soon be given the opportunity to speak to others

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about Ruby. At that time, you’ll tell them the shooting was accidental.” Laughing aloud, Caleb shook his head in spite of the pain. “You must be joking.” “Not at all.” “And why should I agree to do that?” Powell leaned closer, his eyes hard, his expression more serious than Caleb had ever seen it. “To keep me from accusing you of the murder of your wife.” “My...” Caleb began to gulp for breath, his pulse galloping like a team of runaway horses. “Emma? My Emma? What happened?” “You beat her to death, Judge. I imagine your friends will find that a bit hard to forgive, don’t you?” Incredulous, Caleb was shaking his head. “No. That can’t be. I didn’t hit her hard.” He raised tormented eyes to stare at the doctor. “You must be mistaken.” “No, I’m not. She was still weak from childbirth. Her body couldn’t take the further damage you inflicted. She hemorrhaged to death.” Tears welled in the back of Caleb’s eyes but he wouldn’t give the doctor the satisfaction of seeing him show weakness. “How many people know about this?” “Just you and I. That’s as far as it will go if you agree to help Ruby.” “Your conscience doesn’t demand retribution?” Caleb asked.

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The doctor rose to leave. “No. Emma is beyond my help. It’s Ruby who needs it, now.” He walked to the door. “As you’re fond of saying when you sentence a man to hang, vengeance belongs to the Lord. I trust Him to exact it.” Silently keeping his counsel, Caleb watched him leave. As soon as he was alone he threw himself to his knees on the floor beside the bed. Tears streamed down his cheeks. “Oh, God! Not Emma! Please, not Emma. I love her. I can make her repent. I know I can.” In his heart he knew it was too late for such prayers. He’d fully expected his sinful wife to be chastened. But not by death. And not before she’d begged his forgiveness. This was all Ruby’s fault, he decided. She and her preaching of disobedience. And she would pay. Dearly. His weeping ceased. He took a deep, shuddering breath, his course decided. Vengeance might belong to God, but it took a man to carry it out. A man like him. Caleb Stone would not fail his God.

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Chapter 2 ALTHOUGH she hated to leave Emma all alone, even in death, Ruby’s aching heart needed the wise counsel and comfort of a friend. As soon as she’d fed Moses and seen to the livestock, she tossed a few of the baby’s things into a carpetbag, hitched up her team and headed for town. Kansas City was a bustling railhead, busy even on this wintry morning. It made Ruby nervous to venture so close to a seat of government. Locals knew her by sight and if word of Caleb’s death had preceded her, she was sure to be arrested. That mustn’t happen. Not until she was ready. Until she’d finished making provisions for Moses’s care, now that he was an orphan. First, she must have him baptized. Nancy Hocker would make the perfect godmother. The wagon bridge across the Kaw, near the Stock Exchange, wasn’t finished, so Ruby couldn’t use that circuitous route. She had brave the middle of town and drive directly down Nebraska Avenue to Sixth. Thank goodness the icy weather gave her the excuse to bundle up, to pull her hood down till little of her face was visible. Sixth Street was a narrow dirt track. It was bordered on both sides by properties smaller than the

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McKay farm, yet larger and more well-to-do than the row houses and tenements closer to the city center. White, glistening drifts were still piled against the buildings and fence rows. Sun and wagon traffic had melted a lot of the snow in the streets though, leaving ugly gray slush behind. Ruby drove slowly to keep her wheels from throwing mud. She halted the team near the small barn behind Hocker’s place. As she stepped down, an old hound dog got stiffly to his feet and began to wag his tail, the greeting flinging soggy drops of slush left and right. Shielding the baby with her body, Ruby waved him off. “Good boy, Brownie. Go on, now. Go on.” To her relief the dog chose to obey and ambled off toward the barn. She gathered up Moses and picked her way to the house, stepping carefully where the ground looked the least slippery. Smoke was rising steadily from the chimney. Ruby rapped once on the kitchen door, then eased it open to peek inside. Wonderful, homey aromas filled her senses. Instantly comforted, she stepped through and set her cumbersome carpetbag on the braided rag rug lying just over the threshold. Busy at the cookstove, Nancy stood with her back to the door. She was stirring an enormous black pot with a long- handled, wooden spoon and singing a hymn at the top of her lungs. The welcome sight of her dearest friend warmed Ruby’s heart to bursting. “Hello, Nancy.” The older woman whirled. “Ruby! Come in.” She laughed. “Never mind, you are in.” Wiping her

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hands on her apron she tucked stray wisps of hair into the graying mass pinned to the back of her head. “It’s good to see you.” She crossed to Ruby, giving her a motherly hug that included the sleeping babe. “I see your nephew is still out and about. The Judge brought him to town, yesterday. I swear, that little man will have traveled more than Rice’s Great Circus by the time he’s two.” Ruby gently uncovered the baby’s head. “I certainly wish I had your experience in caring for him.” “My experience was gleaned the hard way,” Nancy said, smiling down at Moses. “I don’t wish that on anyone.” She giggled behind her hand. “Except maybe on my husband.” She patted her abdomen. “Then, maybe Mr. Hocker’d be more careful.” “Oh, Nancy, not again.” Joy and concern mixed in Ruby’s thoughts. Her friend had already borne eight children, with six still living. “What’s done is done. A man has needs.” Nancy took Moses from Ruby and placed a light kiss on his forehead. She laid him in a cradle between the stove and the table, then motioned for her visitor to sit down. “Don’t talk to me about men.” Ruby chose a chair closest to the baby. “They do have their place, dear.” “Not in my life, they don’t.” Tears filled her eyes. “Emma’s gone to Glory, Nancy. Moses has no

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mother.” “Oh, my dear, I’m so sorry.” The older woman lay a callused hand on Ruby’s arm. “I should have known something dreadful had happened when I saw you wearing black. I know how you hate that color.” “I want you to be the baby’s godmother.” Her voice cracked. “I’d be proud to. Real proud.” Ruby could only nod. She had stood alone against man and the elements for so long that just being in the presence of a kindred spirit gave her overwhelming peace. Leaning over, Nancy kissed Ruby’s cheek. “We’ll talk more about that later. I’ll wager you haven’t eaten.” “I’m not hungry.” “Nonsense. You have to eat. If not for yourself, for the sake of the little one. You can’t take proper care of him if you lose your strength, grieving.” She bustled to the stove, opened the door to the firebox, stirred the coals and set a kettle of water on to boil. “Have you notified Undertaker Hollingsworth?” “No. I came straight here. I was hoping you’d go and make the arrangements for me. I want a pretty coffin, just like Mama had. With the gray coach and team, not the black one. And I’ll have to find a suitable preacher.” Nancy frowned at her. “Judge Stone will expect to make those arrangements.”

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“No, he won’t.” Ruby felt herself stiffening, her body readying for flight. “Of course, he will.” Nancy took Ruby’s hands. “You and I know he’s a scoundrel, but he is— was—Emma’s husband. He has that right.” “He has no rights,” Ruby said clearly. “Caleb is dead. I shot him.” “You what?” “Shot him. He’s dead.” She saw her friend swallow the information, think about it for a moment, then nod in acceptance. “I see.” Slowly, Nancy walked back to the stove, added tea leaves and hot water to a bone china pot. She brought it to the table, then went back for matching cups. “Does anyone else know?” “Only you, Adam Powell and the good Lord.” “Me and the Lord, I trust. Can we rely on the doctor to keep his counsel?” “I’ll not try to hide it,” Ruby told her. “Caleb and I struggled. The gun went off accidentally. I did nothing wrong.” “You have a witness?” “God is my witness.” Nancy shook her head. “That’s all well and good if you shoot a robber. I’m not sure how well it will set for killing a judge.”

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“He was evil, Nancy.” Ruby paused while her friend filled both cups. The amber liquid swirled, eddied, then was still. She confessed, “I find myself wondering if perhaps I was the instrument of the Lord.” “Seems to me you’d best stick to being just a simple, helpless woman until this is all over.” Ruby sipped the tea. Her hands were trembling. Nancy patted them. “You know I’ll do whatever I can. So will my Nellie and the Webber girls.” “That’s not what worries me,” Ruby countered. “Caleb Stone had everyone fooled. They all thought he was a saint. And I’ve killed him.” “Not everyone thought so.” Nancy rose and brought a pan of cornbread to the table. She cut a square for Ruby and urged her to take a bite before she continued. “I was against him marrying Emma and I said so. But Mr. Hocker refused to talk to your Pa about it.” She leaned her elbows on the checkered tablecloth and wrapped both callused hands around her teacup. “Now, dear heart, I want you to tell me everything. Start from the beginning and don’t leave anything out. We have to be ready for whatever happens next.”

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TOLLEFSEN’S farm felt like a prison to Caleb. He had to get out of there, away from the solicitous brothers and their wives. The sooner the better. He had a score to settle. Gritting his teeth, he rose from the rope-slung feather bed and began to dress. “I don’t know if you should be up and about, yet, Judge,” the doctor said. “That wound of yours is bad.” Caleb winced. He’d managed his pants and boots but he was having a devil of a time trying to push his bulky bandage through the sleeve of his coat. “I must go and see my wife. Give me a hand, will you?” Powell complied, guiding him gently. Shrugging the coat the rest of the way over his shoulders, Caleb cradled his painful hand. Perspiration had broken out on his forehead but he couldn’t allow himself to give in to weakness. He glanced past Powell to the window. “I see Dan has our horses ready. I’d be obliged if you’d ride along with me to Ruby’s.” “I wouldn’t miss it for all the tea in China.” “You still don’t trust me, do you?” “Not much. I’ll feel better when you’ve told everyone straight out that Ruby is innocent. Cleared the air.” Caleb nodded as if he agreed. He’d noticed the man’s hands were shaking. For all his bravado, the doctor lacked true courage. And he’d apparently not had much to drink in the past twenty-four hours,

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either. Both facts could be used to good advantage. “I did speak to the Tollefsens in Ruby’s behalf,” he said. “You heard me.” “You told them not to blame her,” Powell countered. “I had something a bit more specific in mind. Like sending Dan to town to assure the sheriff that the entire incident was totally accidental.” “Surely, he inferred as much.” “Perhaps. Perhaps not. When I tried to explain further, you were no help at all.” “I was still in terrible pain at the time,” Caleb argued. “Confused. Suffering greatly. I can’t be expected to wax eloquent under those circumstances.” Dan Tollefsen’s wife, Martha, swept into the room uninvited, her skirts trailing behind her, her hands clasped to her breast over a lace-edged handkerchief. Her swollen eyes were rimmed in red. “Oh, my dear, Judge.” She halted a few feet from Caleb’s broad chest. “Must you leave so soon?” “Alas, yes,” he said. “Poor Emma lies at her sister’s and it is my duty to see to the arrangements. Such things won’t wait.” “What about the baby? Have you made any plans for a nurse? I’d be most happy to take over his care. Mr. Tollefsen has already promised I can spend my days at your place for as long as need be.” Caleb found her hopeful look amusing. Care for the baby, indeed! He wondered how he could stand the adulterous Martha’s constant demands on his manhood if she did come to stay with him.

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He managed to look suitably distraught. “I can’t bring myself to make such a serious decision now. I do thank you and your husband for your concern.” Brushing by her, he lingered just long enough to give her plump hand a cursory pat. “Bless you both.” Martha dabbed at her eyes and stood in the doorway, watching him go. Caleb felt her admiring glance. He squared his shoulders, determined to show no weakness. Dan was holding the bridle of Stone’s horse. “I fed him good and brother Gideon gave him a rubdown,” he said, steadying the animal till Caleb could mount one-handed. “The Lord will bless you.” Stone raised his orator’s voice. “’For inasmuch as ye have done it onto one of the least of these, ye have done it onto me.’” “I’ll remember that. You take care, Judge. Gideon and me’ll send the womenfolk over anytime you need ‘em. You just ask.” “Thank you,” Caleb said. “As soon as I have seen to Emma and reclaimed my son, I’ll look into hiring a wet-nurse for him.” The man removed his hat in deference. “We’re all sorry about what’s happened, Judge. Good luck to you.” Caleb’s horse was shifting its weight, eager to be off. “Luck has nothing to do with it, Daniel. The Lord will watch over me as He always has. Thank you for your hospitality.”

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As Dan nodded and replaced his hat, Caleb addressed the doctor. “Ready?” Powell hauled his thin, stoop-shouldered frame into the saddle. “Ready.” Without further hesitation, Caleb dug his heels into the horse’s side. His hand throbbed with every beat of his heart, every step the animal took, yet the bracing cold seemed to ease the worst of the pain. Frowning, he stared down at the bandages, his fury building. Ruby would pay, and pay dearly.

IT OCCURRED to Caleb that he was getting hungry by the time he and Powell finally reached the McKay farm near Splitlog’s Hill. Pain had dulled his appetite when Mary had offered breakfast. Now, he wished he’d tried to eat. He slowed his horse and peered at the house, frowning. No smoke came from the chimney. “I would have expected some sign of life by this time of the morning.” “Maybe Miss Ruby’s left,” the doctor ventured. “With Emma abed in her room, she may have gone to stay with friends.” “I suppose so.” In Ruby’s absence, Caleb knew he’d have to change his plans. No matter. Perhaps seeing her hang for her sins was best, after all. The vision gave him pleasure. He turned to the doctor. “That’s Emma’s buggy out by the barn. Would you mind hitching it up for

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me? I seem to be temporarily unable to do much for myself.” Powell nodded. “As soon as I check the house.” Dismounting, he tied his horse’s reins to a lowhanging branch of a bare apple tree and walked quickly to the door. In a few minutes, he returned. Caleb had managed to dismount, unaided. His boots crunched in the snow. “I take it you’re satisfied we’re alone?” “I am. I’ll hitch the buggy for you. Miss Ruby’s already dressed your wife real pretty, so you’ll have no problem with anyone seeing the damage you inflicted.” Talk on, Caleb mused. Make this easy for me. “I had no intention of letting C.W. embalm her, anyway. The Lord’s temple should not be defiled.” “Defiled? Oh, spare me the rhetoric, judge.” He hesitated. “Well, are you coming?” “I want to go see my wife, first.” “I’ll go with you.” “No, please. I need to be alone.” For once, Caleb didn’t have to try to sound humble. The show of genuine weakness troubled him greatly. “I guess even you deserve that. Join me in the barn when you’re ready to leave.” Nodding, Caleb cradled his injured hand and made his way to Ruby’s front door. To the left of the porch he saw a window standing ajar, admitting the biting cold. That would be the room where Emma lay.

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It was all he could do to force himself to step inside. He stomped the snow off his boots on the rug just inside the door. The last time he’d seen the McKay parlor was when old Asa had died. Emma had been too distraught to travel, so he’d come alone to call on Ruby, to comfort her in her sorrow, and she’d all but thrown him out. Little did she know he would one day own everything that was hers. As her nearest living relative and Moses’s father, once Ruby was hanged, it would all come to him. He looked around the room. He’d keep the pump organ, the Persian rug and perhaps the etagere. The rest of the furniture was far inferior to the pieces he’d had shipped from New York to impress Emma. Emma. Slowly, Caleb walked to the bedroom door. His head throbbed, his heart aching beyond any pain he’d ever known. The door swung open at his touch. There, dressed in fine wool, silk and velvet lay his dearest love. Of all the women he’d ever lain with, only Emma McKay had captured his heart. Consequently, only she was capable of breaking it. And so she had. Caleb stared for a long time before he finally approached the bed where his wife lay. She looked so cold, so fragile, like fine china. Clouds of her cornsilk-colored hair billowed about her head. Flowing ringlets had been lovingly combed over the pillow. It was a pose of sleep, not of waking, that Ruby had created. Caleb approved. He’d not have anyone pulling Emma’s hair back into the severe style she usually

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wore. Tears flowed silently down his cheeks as he bent over his once-eager bride. She’d shamed him, but in his heart he’d always treasure the naive maiden she’d been when they’d exchanged their sacred vows. His lips brushed her cheek. So cold. Like alabaster ice. “I would have loved you forever,” he whispered. “But the Lord could not permit me to be joined to such an unrepentant sinner.” A noisy cough behind him caused Caleb to start. Hiding his tears he straightened but refused to turn around. “What is it, doctor?” “The buggy’s ready. I’ll ride into town with you to look for Ruby and the baby.” “So you can tell everyone your ridiculous story about how I beat my wife? That won’t be necessary. I’ll go alone.” “Like hell, you will.” Caleb took a quick swipe at his cheeks with his bandaged hand, wiping away the signs of his weeping. When he turned to face the doctor, a sardonic smile had replaced his sorrow. “I see. Did you leave the buggy in the barn?” “Yes.” “Good. Walk me out there.” Backing away, Powell cocked his head, his eyes narrowing. “I think not.”

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“Oh, I think you will.” Caleb’s voice was as cold as the frozen body of the girl who had once pledged him her troth. He pulled a derringer from his pocket and pointed it at the center of Powell’s chest. “Let’s go.”

RUBY TOOK Nancy’s hands. “I wish I didn’t have to ask anything more of you, but word of Caleb’s death may have reached the bank. I mustn’t be found until I’ve taken care of the business that brought me to town. After that, I’ll fetch Dr. Powell as my witness and go to the sheriff to turn myself in.” “I understand,” Nancy said. “Most of all, I want to arrange for the McKay farm to pass to the baby if anything should happen to me. What’s his is his. Someday he may thank me.” She swiped angrily at a stray tear. “I’m sorry. This has been a terrible trial.” “This, too, shall pass.” Ruby sighed. “I hope so. I need to get back to the schoolhouse. I’ve neglected my duties long enough.” “Don’t you worry about that. Remember Lucy, the oldest Bates girl? She’s been teaching in your place. My Phillip likes her. She’s not as knowledgeable as you are but she’ll do till you’re able to work,

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again.” “If I ever am.” “Of course, you will be.” Nancy buttoned her coat and pulled on a pair of gloves. “No one will blame you for defending yourself against a lecherous madman.” Ruby tried to smile and succeeded. Being around Nancy Hocker always made her feel uplifted, as if the sky had cleared and spring flowers were about to burst into bloom. What a blessing it was to have such a friend! Her smile grew naturally. “Thank you for believing in me, Nancy. Are you certain Mr. Hocker will let you make the withdrawal from Papa’s account?” Nancy chuckled. “There are certain advantages to being the banker’s wife. If not him, then Pearce can handle it for me. He’ll be so sorry to hear about Emma. They were such good friends.” “I know.” Ruby lowered her gaze quickly, afraid Nancy would read too much in her eyes. “It’s truly sad.” The older woman patted her hand. “Never you fear. This will all work out for the best.” “Hurry back?” Ruby hated to see her go. “As fast as those poor old mules of yours will carry me. Is there anything else you need besides some money, the deed, and Mr. Hollingsworth’s services?” “No. I’ve milk aplenty for Moses at home and I was making a layette as a surprise for Emma, so he

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won’t lack for clothing, either.” She gestured toward her carpet bag. “I brought some of the things with me.” “Good. Keep the fire going and don’t forget to stir the stew every so often while I’m gone. Mr. Hocker gets very short-tempered if his supper’s burned.” Impulsively, Ruby gave Nancy a hug. “You are the best and dearest friend I’ve ever had.” “As you are to me,” Nancy replied. “Now, go and rest while you can. Put your feet up. Close your eyes for a bit. Everything will be all right. You’ll see.” Ruby smiled and nodded, shutting the door behind Nancy and latching it. Weariness flowed through her. She walked to the side window to watch her wagon pull out of the yard. Nancy was right. Soon, all this agony would be past. All the misunderstandings would end. And she would raise her nephew as her own. She would forever miss her dear little Emma, of course. But the peace of mind which seemed so elusive at the moment would return. Life would go on as before. There was no earthly reason to doubt it.

PEARCE Hocker saw his mother arrive at the bank. Her bonnet askew, her cloak flying, she burst through the tall double front doors, hurried across the polished wood floor of the lobby, and went immediately into

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his father’s private office. Straining to listen, Pearce couldn’t hear much, even though Parkerson’s office door had a fancy etched glass top. He was able to gather from his parents’ raised voices, however, that some terrible event must have occurred. He tried to finish his transaction with the widow Carmichael while still half-concentrating on the heated conversation between his parents. He was already uneasy because angry, rough-looking men had been coming in response to his father’s summons ever since the bank had opened that morning. Each had insisted that only bank president Parkerson Hocker could help him. And now, Mother was in there. Pearce stared at the closed office door. His thoughts were yanked back to his immediate task by the sharp rap of a cane handle on the inlaid marble counter. “See here, young man. You’ve cheated me.” “I—I’m very sorry, Mrs. Carmichael.” Pearce counted again and added a dollar. “There. Thank you for banking with us.” The voices were growing louder. His father had started shouting. Slamming the grate of his teller cage, Pearce closed the window behind it and headed for Parkerson’s office. It was one thing for the man to yell at him or at other employees. It was quite another to raise his voice to Mother. Pearce rapped once, then opened the door and stepped inside. Both his parents stopped their

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conversation, stared at him. “Mother. Father,” Pearce said. “I thought you should know. The bank’s customers are beginning to notice the commotion in here.” Nancy managed a weak smile. “Thank you, Pearce.” He saw she was trembling. No one moved. Parkerson’s face was red, his cigar bitten nearly in two. He faced his son. “Well? Was there something else?” Pearce cleared his throat. The older man’s forceful presence had always intimidated him. It still did, no matter how much taller and stronger he’d grown, of late. “No, sir. I just thought perhaps I could be of some assistance to Mother.” “Your mother and I were having a private discussion when you burst in,” the older man said. “Leave us.” Bowing slightly, Pearce started to back away. Nancy took a step, laid her gloved hand gently on his arm. “Wait. I think you should hear this from me, not from a stranger.” “What is it, Mother?” He saw tears filling her eyes. If his father had harmed her the way some men hurt their wives, he’d... Placing his hand over her smaller one, he looked lovingly down at her. She cupped his cheek with her other hand. “It’s Emma Stone, darling. She’s passed on.”

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Pearce felt as if an abyss had opened beneath his feet. He was plummeted straight to hell. Only a few weeks before, when Judge Stone had announced that Emma had given birth, he’d had to fight every instinct in his body to keep from going to her. Now it was too late. “Oh, God.” The sound of his own voice was foreign to him, its echo hollow in the confines of the small room. He felt Nancy’s hand tighten on his arm, heard her murmur something. He couldn’t take it in. A scream of despair was building inside him, growing harder to control. He had to get away. To be alone. He shook free of his mother’s grasp. Emma. Oh, God, no. Please, not Emma. Please, let it be a mistake. “Leave the boy alone,” Parkerson ordered when Nancy reached toward her son. “He’ll be a man yet, if you give him half a chance.” A man? Pearce thought. What kind of man abandons the woman he loves to a merciless sadist? He should have acted. Should have spirited Emma off to some faraway country where Stone could never find her. But he’d been too concerned with propriety, with protecting her reputation, and he’d failed her. His breath caught. When she’d begged him to go away, to leave her alone, he’d bowed to her demands instead of seeking out the truth he knew was hidden in her heart. She’d loved him, well and truly! And he’d been too much of a coward to save her. Bursting out the office door he darted into the street. Thoughts of escape filled his wounded mind.

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Pushing people aside, he ran down the board walk. Everyone seemed to crowd in on him. A man he barely recognized grabbed at his arm. Shouts followed. Pearce jumped to the muddy street and crossed it. Saddle horses were tied in a ragged line in front of the mercantile. The largest, a bay, seemed the answer to his prayers. Not caring where he went or whose horse he was taking, Pearce swung aboard. Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing. Without Emma, there was no sun. No moon. No world for him at all. His life had ended with hers. Grasping the reins tightly, he kicked the bay again and again. The malodorous stockyards and outskirts of Kansas City went by in a blur. His mother had not said what Emma had died of and in his initial shock, he’d assumed that complications of childbirth had been the cause. Oh, God! What if that was not the case? His hands tightened on the reins, his knuckles whitening. What if Stone had beaten her again? She’d promised to come to him for help if that happened, but suppose she’d been unable to escape? The horse slowed in response to his tightened grip. Pearce squeezed his eyes closed, his mind spinning with possibilities. If Stone were responsible for Emma’s death, he’d find out and make him pay. And if not? Pearce was inconsolable. What if she’d died of a broken heart because he neglected to show her how much he loved her?

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If that was so, he decided easily, then his course was decided. He’d join her in heaven and confess his love to her there. The thought of death comforted him but he knew he must not act rashly. Only alive could he exact any necessary vengeance on Caleb Stone. That done, there would be plenty of time to choose how to go to be with his beloved for eternity. Resigned, Pearce turned the horse and started slowly back toward town.

THE MAN in the dusty leather coat removed his hat as he was ushered into the bank president’s office. He extended his hand. “Braxton Rutledge. Up from The Territories.” “Parkerson Hocker.” Hocker shook the taller man’s hand, ignored his full beard, long hair and unkempt appearance, and offered him a chair. Brax liked that. He’d be able to do business with this man. “How can I help you?” Handing over a stack of vouchers, Brax waited while the banker seated himself behind his desk and examined them. “This is quite a large sum,” Hocker said.

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“It was a big herd. I’m glad to get them to market.” “Surely you don’t intend to carry this much cash on your person.” “Not if I can help it,” Brax replied. “I was hopin’ to leave a goodly portion of it with you for the time being.” He watched as the banker fidgeted, his eyes darting back to the door over and over as if he expected it to open. “’Course, if you’re too busy...” “No, no.” Hocker arose, checked the bank lobby briefly and returned. “It’s just been a rather unsettling morning.” “So, I gathered.” Parkerson raised his eyebrows. “You heard?” “Some of it. I was waiting outside. The young fella who ran out of here sure was upset, that’s a fact.” “Unfortunately.” Sighing, the banker sat back down and dipped his pen. “We’ll open an account for you, Mr. Rutledge, and give you as much cash as you want. If you require more, all you have to do is telegraph and I’ll wire the nearest bank for you.” Brax rose and extended his hand. “Much obliged.” He could see that the man was suffering. “I can come back later to settle up if you want to go chase after your boy.” Parkerson shook his head. He grew thoughtful. “You planning on staying long in Kansas City?”

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“No longer than I have to.” Brax brushed his battered gray hat against his pant leg. “Cities don’t much suit me.” “You’ll be taking the train west?” “Most likely. It’s a might faster, and my horse appreciates the rest. Why?” “I just wondered,” Hocker said slowly. “There’s a murderer who may try to leave town by rail. I thought, if you happened to see her, it would be a boon if you could let us know.” “Her?” Brax paused. “Well, now, that depends. Suppose you fill me in.” By the time Brax had heard the whole story of Ruby McKay and her awful deeds, he was ready to do whatever he could to help, mainly because there was a baby involved. Well-meaning relatives were the worst kind of kin to have. He ought to know. His own son had been taken from him by do-gooders like that. He’d been too overwrought by Annie’s death to think about anything but losing her, so he’d gotten rip-roaring drunk and stayed that way for a long time. By the time he’d sobered up and started to put his life back together, it was too late. Annie’s parents had gone back to Ohio and were raising his son as their own. Without ever telling the boy about his real father. The chance to help another widower in a similar situation strongly appealed to his sense of justice. “We’ll pay for any information,” Hocker added. The suggestion wounded Brax’s sensibilities. “If I do this for you,” he said soberly, “it’ll be because

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it’s the neighborly thing, not because I want your money.” “Of course. I just thought an offer of a reward would provide a better incentive.” “Finding this woman is all the reward I need.” Brax set his jaw. “Now, let’s get back to business and see to my account, shall we?”

PACING THE worn painted floor in Nancy’s kitchen, Ruby had begun to grow very worried. The fire in the cookstove had died down. Supper’s stew was so thick by now the wooden spoon stood straight up on its own when she stirred. The rattle of traces in the yard drew her to the window. She cleared a round spot on the frosty pane with her fist and peered out. Clearly agitated, Nancy climbed down from the wagon and came scurrying toward the house. Ruby yanked open the door and stepped aside. “There’s a trunk in the wagon with all the baby clothes and tinned milk I could find at your place,” Nancy said, flying into the room, breathless. Throwing off her coat and scarf she hurried across the kitchen, took a rusty canister from a top shelf, opened it, and withdrew a wad of bills. “I want you to take this and go.” She stuffed the money under the baby’s clothing in Ruby’s carpetbag. “Why? What happened?”

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“What didn’t happen! You won’t believe it.” Ruby grasped Nancy’s arm to stop her fluttery, random pacing. “Please. Calm down and tell me. Have they found Caleb’s body? Is that it?” “Oh, I wish it were that simple,” the older woman said. “I wish to heaven it were.” “Then what? Are the authorities looking for me?” Nancy nodded. “Yes, but not for Caleb’s murder. He’s not dead.” “He’s...” Ruby felt faint. Rocking back, she leaned against the edge of the table. “Are you certain?” “Positive. I heard the Tollefsen brothers found him and patched him up.” Ruby glanced over at Moses. “What did Caleb say? Does he claim I stole the baby?” “That, and more.” Nancy began to roll cornbread and dried apples into napkins, tying the corners to secure the bundles. “I went to C.W. Hollingsworth’s store to tell him to fix up a coffin and get out his undertaker’s suit, but he was already gone to your place.” She tried to smile and failed. “I reckoned Doc Powell had told him about Emma, so I didn’t think much of it.” “Perhaps he did.” Nancy shook her head furiously. “No, he didn’t. I went on to the bank. There were men all over the place...looking for you...and Mr. Hocker wouldn’t give me a red cent of your money. Pearce was there, too. He took the news about Emma real hard.”

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“Poor Pearce. I’m so sorry.” Once again, she purposely averted her gaze. “So am I. He up and ran right out of the bank.” Ruby folded her arms across her body to help still her trembling. “Then what?” “I drove out to your place to try and catch C.W., tell him exactly what you wanted for the funeral. I figured Caleb might come along and disagree before all was said and done, but if he didn’t, you’d get things your way. It was C.W. helped me load the trunk into your wagon. I’d of never made it by myself.” “And?” Ruby’s uneasiness was compounded by the fact that her friend seemed to be purposely withholding important bits of information. “Don’t try to spare me, Nancy,” she ordered. “Tell me everything.” Nancy laid aside the bundles of food and took both of Ruby’s hands in hers, holding tight. “They found Adam Powell’s body in your barn, Ruby. Everyone thinks you shot him, just like you shot Caleb. Only Adam is stone-cold dead.” “Oh, God, no.” Ruby closed her eyes against the dawning of the truth. “Poor, poor Adam. He was my only witness to the awful bruises on Emma’s body. He knew what kind of man Caleb Stone was.” “Stone still is that kind of a man,” Nancy reminded her. “And the last I heard, he was in town telling every man-jack who’d listen that you were possessed by the devil and gone on a shooting rampage. By now, he’ll have ‘em so riled up most of ‘em would as soon shoot you as look at you.” She huffed. “They’d

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count themselves lucky to get the chance.” “What am I going to do? If I run away I’ll look guilty.” Ruby’s eyes widened. “And what about the baby?” “I’d keep him for you, but you don’t dare leave him where Caleb can get his hands on him,” Nancy countered. “Remember, that man has terrible influence in these parts. He beat your poor sister clean to death and he hates you ‘cause you shot him. After all that, what makes you think he’d value the life of a tiny, helpless baby ?” Ruby pressed her fingertips over her lips. Nancy didn’t know the half of it! “Oh, sweet Jesus.” She let herself be dragged to the door and helped into her coat, then watched silently as Nancy put her own wrap back on, crossed to the stove to bank the fire, and slid her stew kettle off to one side. “You’re not going anywhere with me,” Ruby said. “I’ll do whatever I have to do, alone.” Absently, she lifted Moses into her arms and stood caressing his cheek. “I aim to help you get away from here,” Nancy argued. “You’ll never make it otherwise.” “But...you’re the banker’s wife. What about your reputation? Your husband? What will Mr. Hocker say?” “He’ll be mad as a boiled owl if they catch us.” Nancy managed a thin-lipped smiled. “So, we’ll make sure no one does.” She picked up the carpet bag Ruby had brought that morning and added the

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bundles of food. “Come on.” Ruby followed closely as Nancy hurried outside. “Where can we go? They’ll be watching all the main roads.” “I thought of that.” Climbing onto the wagon seat, Nancy took the baby as Ruby handed him up, then tucked him into his basket. “I stopped at the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe depot on the way home. No one there paid the least bit of attention to a matron like me. They were too busy waiting for you to show up at the bank.” “And?” Taking up the lines, Ruby released the wagon brake. “And, I bought a one-way ticket to Denver.” She looked pleased with herself. “Denver? The closest people I have are in Pennsylvania. I don’t know a soul in Denver.” “Exactly.” “Oh! I see what you’re getting at. Nobody will think to look for me in a place where I have no friends or family.” “That’s right.” Nancy’s grin broadened. “Your train leaves first thing in the morning. What we’ll do is take your wagon to Stantemeyer’s Livery Stable, leave it there, and rent one of those old buggies of his. One of the boys there can tote your trunk to the railway station for safe- keeping.” “Then what?”

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“Then, we’ll drive the buggy to the depot. If it looks safe, you’ll buy a ticket to Philadelphia, making darned sure, excuse my language, that the ticket agent remembers you and this baby. With your looks, that shouldn’t be hard.” “But, I’ll still need a place to hide till morning. You said Caleb has men looking for me, and with Mr. Hocker on his side, I can’t go back to your place.” “I haven’t figured that part out, yet,” Nancy admitted ruefully. “How about the schoolhouse? It’s a ways out of town, but I’ve walked the distance before. Maybe I could stay there.” Nancy brightened. “Wonderful! Lucy’s been dismissing school early because of the cold weather...and because she’s a bit lazy, if you want the whole truth. The schoolhouse will keep you and Moses safe for the night. I wish I could leave a buggy or your own mules out there with you, but it’s too obvious.” “That’s all right, as long as I’m back in time to board the train for Denver. You’ll get somebody to take care of the livestock out at my place?” “Of course.” Ruby smiled wistfully at her long-time friend. “I shall miss you.” “And I, you. But don’t despair. The good Lord will watch over you.”

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“The way He watches over Caleb Stone?” Ruby’s voice turned bitter. “How can I believe God cares for me when He permits that man to mislead so many people?” “If you let Caleb steal your faith, Ruby, he’s won without having to strike a single blow.” Ruby knew that Nancy’s wisdom was flawless. “He won’t beat me,” she vowed, snapping the reins on the mules’ backs. “He’ll never beat me. I swear it.”

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Chapter 3 RUBY closed the damper of the schoolhouse stove nearly all the way to keep passers-by from worrying about the smoke coming from a building that was supposed to be empty. She’d pulled the shades down over the tall windows, yet she dared not light a lamp for fear of discovery. Moses fussed. Holding him close she paced the aisle between the rows of desks, her footsteps a hollow echo. The baby mustn’t cry. He might attract attention. It was fairly easy to warm his milk on the small pot-bellied stove, so she knew he wasn’t hungry. Beyond that, there were few of the comforts of home. Home. Ruby sighed. This one-room building was like a home to her. She’d always felt comfortable in school, even when she was only one of the students. Her teacher’s eye noted that the blackboard needed cleaning. And no wonder...the erasers were filthy. Poor Lucy Bates. Forced by circumstances to go from child to grown-up overnight. Much as she, herself, had done, Ruby recalled, continuing her rhythmic pacing. When Mama had died, she’d become like Emma’s mother. Papa hadn’t understood how frightening such a responsibility was to her. He’d had his own grief to deal with. His eldest daughter was on her own. The woman of the house.

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After a while, it was as if her family had always been structured so. Ruby walked to the window and peeked past the edge of the stained shade. Her breath condensed on the pane. The night air was crisp; the moon beginning to wax full in the starlit sky. Moses dozed fitfully. Taking a chance he’d not awaken if she put him down, she laid him in his basket, placed it near the stove, and pulled on her coat. A few chores needed doing before morning. Opening the door slowly, tentatively, she glanced across the yard. The moonlight cast long fingers of shadow on the bare field. Trees that in summer shaded the school yard so benevolently looked suddenly menacing. Their bare branches cast claw-like shadows that danced over the rough ground. Children’s feet had trampled the snow. Cold night air had frozen the footprints into miniature canyons rimmed with treacherous ice. Ruby hefted the empty water bucket and started across the yard. She’d use the facility first, then draw water from the schoolhouse well. It would only take a few minutes. She set one foot in front of the other as cautiously as she could, one arm outstretched like that of an acrobat balancing on a high wire. Her heart beat noisily. The thin ice crunched with every step. Why couldn’t she be more quiet? The sounds of her footsteps seemed to echo thorough the darkness and reverberate off the outbuildings. The narrow door to the facility stood ajar, the darkness within not at all comforting. But, as with most

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of the trials she’d undergone of late, Ruby had no choice. Placing the bucket on the ground by the door, she entered the outhouse and closed the door behind her. The frost on the wooden seat was the least of her troubles. Far worse was the almost absolute blackness and the terrible, closed-in feeling. Suddenly, all she wanted was to be back with Moses. Adjusting her clothing, she pushed open the door and breathed deeply of the icy air. Pure silence enshrouded her, bringing with it a feeling of menace instead of calm. She listened. Carried on the night air was the sound of a horse, blowing hard through its nostrils and shaking its harness. Someone was close by! Forgetting the water bucket, Ruby lifted her skirts and tried to hurry. The ice was unforgiving. She made one misstep and found herself sliding to a seat on the frigid ground. Fortunately, she’d not cried out. As she rolled to her knees she sensed, rather than saw, movement in the darkness in the fringes of the yard. Her heart froze as hard as the ground where she crouched, unmoving. It was clear she was not alone, yet if the other soul abroad in the darkness was her adversary, why hadn’t he spoken or otherwise made himself known? The baby! she thought, panic-stricken. I must get back to the baby! Half walking, half crawling, she scrambled the last few yards to the steps, grabbed the icy wooden railing and dragged herself onto the porch. Without taking care to peer in first, she jerked open the door and darted inside, pulling it quickly

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closed behind her. She pressed her back to the wall as her eyes adjusted to the light. The aroma of hot food wafted through the big, open school room. There, illuminated by a single lantern, the wick turned low, stood Nancy Hocker. She was holding a covered picnic basket. Trembling, Ruby sank into the nearest chair. “Oh, dear God. You frightened me out of ten years’ growth!” “I frightened you? What about me? I brought your supper and you weren’t here.” She began to weep. “I thought Caleb had found you!” Ruby hurried to her friend’s side. “No, dear heart. No. I’d gone for water. That’s all. Don’t cry.” Taking the lantern and placing it safely atop an empty desk, she urged Nancy to sit down. “You shouldn’t be out at this time of night. Not in your condition.” Nancy sniffled and wiped her nose. “I had to see you. They found your wagon at Stantemeyer’s. I paid the boy to tell them he’d put your trunk on board the train for Philadelphia, but I’m not sure they didn’t check the station baggage room, anyway.” With a heavy sigh, Ruby took the other woman’s hand. “We’ll trust the Lord that they didn’t,” she said. “Beyond that, there’s nothing we can do.” Rising, Nancy stripped off the red wool cape she wore over her brown, double-breasted wrap and draped the cape across a nearby desk. “Yes, there is. Everyone will be expecting you to wear black, as

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you are now, because of Emma’s passing. This cloak will put them off the scent. I want you to take it.” “Oh, I couldn’t.” “Because it isn’t proper?” “Yes.” Ruby sobered. “I plan to remain in mourning for at least six months. What would people think if I wore such a happy color?” “They’d think, why, that woman can’t be Ruby McKay because she would never do such a thing.” Nancy paused. “How badly do you want to escape?” Silently, Ruby lifted the cloak. Even in the dim light it was brightly gay. Nancy was right. No one who knew her would expect such bizarre dress or behavior. Her dead sister Emma’s memory would not be best served if Ruby followed accepted traditions of respect and thus lost both her own life and that of Emma’s only son. Logic made the choice for her. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “I accept. I know the cape is your favorite. I’ll take good care of it and try and get it back to you, somehow.” Nancy shook her head. “It’s a piece of cloth. Goods. That’s all. The treasures in my life are my dear ones. Keep the cloak with my blessings,” Nancy said solemnly. “Now, eat. I didn’t sneak all the way over here in the middle of the night just to talk.” Ruby smiled. “Yes, mother. I’ll be a good girl.” She peeked into the basket.

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“Be sure and eat all your peas,” Nancy cautioned with a grin. “They’ll put hair on your chest and fill out your beard, as my Pa used to say.” Chuckling, Ruby obeyed and began to eat. “Now that’s just what I need. Wouldn’t it make a wonderful disguise! They’d never recognize me!”

MOST OF the other mourners had already left the white, clapboard church and were lining up their rigs to drive to the cemetery for Emma’s burial. Caleb had hung back to speak with Parkerson Hocker. He ignored the fact that Nancy had stayed, too. “Ruby McKay must be in league with the devil,” Caleb said. “Otherwise, how could she just disappear?” “I have men patrolling the roads and watching the railway station,” Parkerson told him. “And I’ve spread the word to the bank’s recent customers. Somebody will spot her.” He folded his hands around the lapels of his Sunday suit and cocked his head toward his wife. “Nancy tells me Ruby has family back east somewhere.” “I know.” For every moment that Caleb’s scalp wound grew better, his hand seemed to throb more. He cradled it. “I just didn’t think she’d be stupid enough to believe Emma wouldn’t have mentioned their

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shirt-tail relations.” “Women are not very quick-witted,” Parkerson observed, adding a quiet laugh as Nancy huffed, turned, and flounced out of the church. With a wry chuckle, the widower agreed. “But they do have their uses, eh?” “That, they do.” Both men pivoted to look as C.W. Hollingsworth appeared at the door. “All set, Judge?” Caleb nodded. C.W. became another person altogether when he donned his funeral attire. Always a quiet man, the big furniture-maker took on an air of austere dignity in his long, black coat, striped pants and patent leather shoes with spats. A silver and black tie was drawn into a neat cravat below the stiff, white collar of his shirt. The judge envied the dashing figure he cut. C.W. led the way out the door to the waiting line of buggies. Jet black, gleaming leather, with rectangular, glass side-windows, the horse-drawn hearse stood at the head of the procession. Black crepe was draped across the tops of the windows and pinned back at the sides with silver rosettes. Inside, Emma’s plain wooden box seemed out of place amidst so much finery. A small bouquet of white and yellow paper flowers lay atop the casket. Donning his stovepipe hat, the undertaker climbed silently to the driver’s seat beside his waiting assistant.

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For his own conveyance, Caleb had borrowed a pitch-black horse just like the ones pulling C.W.’s rig. Parkerson Hocker had helped him hitch it to the finest gold-trimmed shay to be had in Kansas City. Leaving his family to fend for themselves, Parkerson joined Caleb and took up the reins. “I can drive myself,” Caleb protested. “I know you can, but we need to talk. That wife of mine has big ears. Too big, sometimes.” “You know something more about Ruby?” Moving slowly, the shay eased into second place in the procession, as was Caleb’s due. As the entourage passed, women paused, heads bowed, hands folded, and men removed their hats. “I may.” “You may? What kind of game are you playing?” Caleb glared at him. “I’m in no mood for tricks.” “This isn’t a trick,” Hocker insisted. “I’m just not sure of my facts. Like you, I’d always thought of Ruby McKay as fairly clever. If she’s done what I think she’s done, I’ll have to revise my opinion.” “And that is?” Caleb hated men who couldn’t come to the point. “Now, now, don’t get your dander up, Judge.” Parkerson grinned at him from beneath his brushy, graying mustache. “You’re not going anywhere except to the cemetery for a while yet, anyhow. Might as well relax.” “I’ll not relax till Ruby McKay has paid for committing murder,” Caleb countered.

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“You know, that’s a funny thing,” the shorter, portly man said. “I remember when Miss Ruby’s Pa took sick. Doc Powell helped her nurse him, right up to the day he died. After that, everybody figured they were pretty good friends. What do you suppose made her up and shot him?” “The devil can make folks do strange things. Very few of us are immune to his wiles. Women are weak-willed and especially vulnerable.” “Well, well. You don’t say.” The wagons and buggies had passed out of town and begun their climb to Oak Grove Cemetery. Caleb felt a sense of relief that there were no more observers standing along the road to watch his every move, notice every nuance of feeling. “I do say. Now, on with your story. Where do you think Ruby is hiding?” Parkerson snapped the reins to close the gap between the carriages. “Philadelphia.” “How do you know?” “We found her spring wagon at the livery. The boy who works for Stantemeyer says he took her trunk to the depot. And Ed, down at the ticket office, sold her a one way pass.” “You’re sure?” “Positive. It was Ruby, all right. Ed swore she had the baby with her, too.” He paused to look over at Caleb. “Does that seem right to you?”

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“That she’d keep the baby? Oh, yes.” The judge took a deep breath, pondering the information. “Ed’s certain the woman was Ruby?” “As certain as a twenty-dollar gold piece makes a man. I’ll be countin’ that as my donation to your next election campaign.” Laughing under his breath, Caleb enjoyed his friend’s wry sense of humor. “You do that, you old cheapskate. The dedicated ladies in Kansas City will make up for any lack on your part.” “I figured so,” Parkerson said. “Speaking of ladies, are you going over to Liz’s after this shindig, or are you going on home?” Caleb’s idea of home was anywhere his sweet Emma waited. As of two days ago, he had no more real home. Hiding his true feelings he smiled at his companion. “Folks that want to feed and console will gather at my place. If I can get away, I’ll join you in town, later.” “Liz will be glad to hear that.” Caleb smiled. “Contrary to what you seem to think, I am not her best customer.” “To hear tell you’re one of them,” Parkerson countered. “I also understand the girls draw straws to see who gets you...or who doesn’t.” Caleb laughed. “Every girl I visit hears about the evil of her ways. That’s my job.” Parkerson was looking at him with a puzzled smirk on his face. The smile faded. “My God,” he said,

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“you really believe that, don’t you?”

WITH THE baby tucked beneath Nancy’s red cape, Ruby had made a completely uneventful trip from the schoolhouse to the depot. Though she’d spent a good deal of time looking over her shoulder, no one had seemed to take the slightest notice of a lone woman, trudging down the street toward the station. The conductor checked her ticket, helped her board the proper section of the train, and handed up her heavy carpetbag. Ruby’s breath caught when she stepped through the door into the railroad car. The air inside was stale and pungent. Cloying. Enforced closeness had concentrated the unique odors of the other passengers. Brought out their various conditions of personal hygiene. Pointed up what the mud on some of the men’s boots must actually be. For the sake of the baby, Ruby chose a place near the pot-bellied stove at one end of the car. Her cumbersome carpetbag barely fit into the space on the floor between her seat and the one in front. She wedged it in more tightly with her foot, then sat down and looked around. Across the aisle, a young mother in homespun busied herself with three rambunctious youngsters. The oldest, a boy, had to be about three years old. The other two were younger.

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Behind those first rows, assorted rough-looking men and unkempt women had made themselves at home on the narrow, poorly-padded seats. Those who weren’t smoking, eating, or talking to companions were stretched out on the flat benches, trying to sleep. Ruby knew that Nancy had bought the only available ticket to Denver. Obviously, she hadn’t realized what a difference there would be between first class and these accommodations. Oh, well. At least Moses was safe. One Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe passenger train per day left Kansas City bound for Denver. They were lucky to be on it. Ruby glanced out one of the dirty windows. Tears filled her eyes. Emma’s funeral procession was wending its way through town. The whole scene seemed other-worldly. Ruby had trusted Nancy to place her homemade paper flowers on the casket. Beyond that small token of love, she dared have no part in her sister’s home-going. The train began to move, slowly, haltingly. The line of black buggies grew smaller in the distance. Ruby closed her eyes. “Rest well, dearest.” A comely young woman staggered down the aisle, grabbing the backs of seats to steady herself as the train picked up speed. She plunked down next to Ruby before asking, “Do you mind if I join you? That fellow in the back is smoking the most foul cheroot.” “No, I don’t mind.” Her gaze drifted back to the funeral procession.

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“Big send-off, that one,” the girl observed. Wiggling around for comfort, she spread her voluminous black skirts over her lap, taking up more than half the bench seat. “Must of had a peck of friends.” “She did,” Ruby said. “A woman?” “My sister.” Her words were a whisper, almost a prayer. “Real sorry to hear that.” “Thank you. Our lot in life can be hard and unfair.” She sighed deeply. “That’s why I’ll never marry.” “Don’t know as I’d say that too often whilst I had a suckling babe in my arms.” The girl giggled. “My ma says a lady travelin’ alone is bad enough. There’s men aplenty who’d take advantage.” Ruby nodded agreement. “As I’ve found.” “No doubt.” There was affable indulgence, not censure, in the young woman’s comments. She was obviously uncultured, yet it seemed to Ruby that the two of them thought much alike. Hiding the small smile her companion’s candid response had evoked, Ruby looked her over more closely. Their thoughts weren’t the only things they had in common. She and her fellow traveler were nearly the same age, as well as sharing similar coloring. Except for Ruby’s more diminutive size, they

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were enough alike to be mistaken for kin. “Are you traveling far?” Ruby asked. “Just to Topeka, if I’m lucky. My name’s Sarah Kussner.” “I’m Ruby...um...” Sarah laughed. “You’d best have a name ready or folks will surely think you’re a scarlet woman.” “That doesn’t bother you?” Ruby blushed. It bothered her plenty. “Me? No. Live and let live, my ma always says. I figure that’s good advice.” She withdrew a folded advertisement from the small hand valise next to her on the floor. Displaying it in her lap, she smoothed out the well-worn creases. Ruby recognized the printed Harvey House plea for single young women of good character, eighteen to thirty years old. “That’s why you’re going to Topeka?” “Yup. Ma says my character’s as fine as any. And I’m smart, too. Finished the sixth grade. I can read and write.” She hesitated, staring at the advertisement and pouting. “The part about being attractive, well...” “But you are,” Ruby insisted. “There’s one kind of beauty, like my sister Emma had; soft as a fairy’s wings, pale yellow as a baby chick, and gentle as a doe. Then there’s comeliness. You and I have that.” Sarah brightened. “You think so?”

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“I do.” “And we’re strong,” Sarah added. “I can see you’re not suffering motherhood a bit. That little one can’t be very old, and here you are, right as rain.” “His name is Moses.” The baby made a funny face in his sleep. Both women laughed. “Pleased to meet you, Master Moses,” Sarah said. She raised her twinkling blue eyes to Ruby. “There. How was that for company manners?” “Admirable. Quite nice.” “Oh, good. I haven’t had much practice. I’ll be switched if I’ll let something like a poor how-de-do ruin my chances to earn $17.50 a month plus room and board.” She leaned closer to speak in confidence. “I know this is talking out of turn, but if you’d leave your baby with your ma, I’ll bet you could get a job at Harvey House, too. You’re real refined like.” “Thank you for the compliment,” Ruby said. “I’d take your advice if I could.” The train car seemed colder all of a sudden, in spite of the fire crackling in the stove. Thoughtful, Sarah fell silent for a few moments. She brightened. “You could ride back to Kansas City, then go on to visit my family for a spell. We have a place north of there, across the Kaw River. My ma dearly loves little ones. Had ten, herself. Only four’s living and we’re all grown. Except for a few aunts and cousins, she’s all alone.”

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“I do appreciate the kind offer,” Ruby said, “ but I can’t go back. I can never go back.” “Shame shouldn’t separate loving families,” Sarah said sadly. “Too bad it does, sometimes.” Ruby saw the misunderstanding clearly. “No, dear, my family hasn’t disowned me. They’ve all gone to Glory.” “Oh!” She reached for Ruby’s hand. “I’m so sorry.” “My comfort is knowing we’ll be together again, someday.” Gazing lovingly at Moses, Ruby leaned down to place a kiss on his smooth forehead. “I hope so,” Sarah said with a nostalgic sigh. “My brother, Robert, he was always a first-rate stinker whilst he was alive. I look forward to trouncing him a good one.” “In Heaven?” Ruby’s sensibilities were shocked. “Why not?” Grinning, Sarah went on. “God made the birds and the beasts, didn’t he?” “Yes.” Not sure she wanted to continue such a strange conversation, Ruby was nevertheless fascinated. “Have you ever watched a new-born foal try to walk?” “Of course. On our farm...” “And a mama hen trying to round up a batch of baby chicks in a stiff prairie wind? Or seen the expression on a dumb old hound dog that corners a skunk and then don’t know what to do about it?” By

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this time, she was chuckling at the silly pictures she’d conjured up. Ruby, too, had to smile. “I think I see what you mean. There is a lot of humor in the world.” “Sure. And when all the weeping and wailing passes away, like the Good Book promises, what’ll be left?” She clapped her hands with joy. “What a blessed place Heaven will be. I can hardly wait!” “To trounce Robert.” “And to hug and kiss him. He died of Typhoid just two years ago this coming March.” Ruby understood Sarah’s feelings all too well. She wished her own could be so innocent. “The loss of your dear ones hasn’t made you bitter because you know there’s no way to cure such a dread disease. Some live, some don’t.” She caressed Moses’s cheek, speaking to Sarah but gazing down at the sleepy baby. “If your brother had been murdered, like my sister was, you’d feel differently.” Sarah gasped. “Oh, my! I reckon so.” Reaching out, she laid a hand atop Ruby’s. “If there’s anything I can do, you know you have a friend in this girl.” “At least until Topeka,” Ruby said wistfully. Slipping her fingers between Sarah’s, she gave them a squeeze. It was a true blessing to have a boon companion beside her. Even for a short time.

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Chapter 4 AN EAST wind whistled up the gully by the cemetery and through the gnarled branches of the few trees, ruffling scarves and skirts and causing everyone to huddle closer on the barren ground. Dry-eyed, Pearce listened as the preacher droned on over Emma’s small casket. It didn’t make any difference what the man claimed, anyway. God had not protected Emma. Pearce closed his eyes, his head bowed. A tear glided down his cheek. On one side, his sister, Nellie, held his hand. On the other, his mother clung tightly to his arm. When everyone else began singing, “Shall We Gather At the River,” Pearce kept silent. He was sure that if he opened his mouth he would scream. And once he started, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop. They were lowering the pine box, now. Four men with ropes played them out until the casket disappeared into the grave. Waves of nausea and dizziness swept over him. Had it not been for his mother and Nellie he felt he might have given up the ghost, himself, at that dreadful moment. There was a tug at his elbow. He didn’t respond. “Take us home, son, please,” Nancy whispered. Opening his eyes he looked at her without really seeing.

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“It’s over. We need to go,” she explained gently. Pearce stared at the scene in front of him. A large group of people had massed around Caleb Stone. Above the heads of all but the tallest, he could see the judge solemnly nodding and accepting condolences. Venomous hate took the place of the pain Pearce had been feeling. The tugging on his arm became a more stern command. “Come away,” Nancy ordered. “Don’t let anyone see you looking at him like that.” Pearce recovered enough to nod and comply. In turn, he directed a measure of his anger at her. “I’m to feel sorry for the poor, grieving widower, is that it, Mother? God damn it, has he fooled you, too?” Nellie gasped. “Pearce! Wash your mouth out. That’s our mama you’re talking to.” Shaking her head, Nancy spoke firmly to her eldest daughter. “It’s all right.” “All right?” Nellie’s voice rose. “All right? Why, you’d throttle me if I spoke to anyone that way.” Disgust clouded her expression. “You two go on without me. I’ll ride in with Papa and poor Judge Stone.” “No!” Pearce’s exclamation was so loud several nearby mourners scowled at him. He quieted. “Go get in the buggy, Nellie.” “I will not.” As she turned to flounce off, Pearce reached for her. Nancy held him back. “Let her alone. It’s better this way.”

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Though he disagreed, he let his mother lead him to their waiting rig. She paused and held out her hand. “Help me up?” “Of course.” Taking her elbow he did as she’d requested, then joined her. “Are you feeling ill?” The question was as close as propriety let him come to asking her about her health during pregnancy. Silently, he cursed his father. Why couldn’t the man leave her alone? “I am tired,” Nancy admitted. She smiled as Pearce tucked a lap robe around her legs. Pearce took up the reins and clucked to the horse. The buggy moved out of the cemetery and started down the rutted road. “I know you loved Emma,” Nancy said quietly. “We all loved her.” Pearce snapped the whip in the air above the horse’s back and gritted his teeth. If only he could continue to focus on his hatred of Stone he might make it through this horrible day without disgracing himself. The rig picked up speed, the horse blowing steamy clouds from his nostrils. Don’t be kind to me, Mother, Pearce wished. I can’t deal with kindness, now. He flinched as Nancy laid one hand over his. “But you cared for her in a special way,” she said. “And Emma had deep feelings for you, too. I know she did.” Tenderness was his undoing. The passion welled up inside him until he felt he’d burst. All the

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sadness, all the hopelessness melded to become stronger, more demanding of release than any emotion he’d ever experienced. Guiding the horse to the right, Pearce took a side road to gain privacy, then halted the buggy. He clamped one hand over his mouth. The pressure wasn’t enough to stifle the moan that rose from the bottomless reaches of his wounded soul. As he began to rock back and forth with the agony of his loss, he felt his mother’s arms enfolding him. He doubled over in a shuddering expression of pent-up grief. As he began to sob uncontrollably, he let his head fall to his mother’s lap, something he had not dared do since he was ten. He’d been whipped by his father, then, for acting like a child. His despair had been nothing like this. This was a man’s sorrow. Pearce wanted to die. To be thrust in beside his darling Emma until he, too, felt no more pain. But that was not to be. He lived. And so he continued to know how desperately his heart...indeed, his whole body...ached for his lost love. Taking shaky breaths, he knew he must tell someone the secret he had borne alone. He lifted his tearstained face to gaze into Nancy’s eyes. She was weeping with him. For him. “I loved Emma more than life, itself,” Pearce confessed, sobbing. Nancy held him to her breast, rocked him, stroked his hair till he quieted. “I understand,” she finally said. “I once knew a love like that. Long ago.”

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Pearce felt her reach around him to take up the reins. He made no protest. Straightening, he wiped his face with his pocket handkerchief and blew his nose. Spent, he was in better control of himself. “It’s all so unfair.” “Many things in life are,” she counseled. Flicking the reins she urged the horse on. Pearce closed his eyes and sagged back against the seat. “At least you still have Father,” he said with a shuddering sigh. “True. And I respect Mr. Hocker a great deal.” Something strange in her voice made him turn to look at her as she went on. “Unfortunately, he is not the one I once loved so deeply.”

THE LULL of the rhythmic sounds and the motion of the train put Ruby to sleep almost as soon as she’d finished feeding and changing Moses. She awoke leaning on Sarah’s shoulder. Somehow, the other woman had relieved her of the baby and was holding him. The sun was already high overhead. “I am sorry,” Ruby said. “I got precious little rest last night.” “No bother. There was a scruffy boy through here a bit ago selling food. I waited for you to wake so we could choose something together. The trouble is, I haven’t seen the boy again.”

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Ruby realized she, too, was hungry. “I have a bundle of dried apples and some corn bread we can share. I forgot all about them.” She smiled over at the baby. “Has he been asleep long?” “Never made a peep.” “He’s a good baby. Just like Emma was.” Sarah whispered, “She was his real mother, wasn’t she? I’ve been sittin’ here lookin’ at him. He has the fair, dainty looks you described.” It was a relief to be honest. “Yes, but you must never tell.” “Why?” Speaking softly, her eyes alert for any show of interest from nearby passengers, she said, “An evil man is after us.” Sarah’s eyes widened. “The one who murdered your sister?” The question was so faint as to be barely audible. “Yes.” “Oh, Lordy. Now I see why you didn’t go to her funeral.” “That was one of the reasons.” Ruby reached into the carpet bag at her feet for the apples. Instead of the napkin-wrapped bundle, her fingers felt something hard and cold. At first, she thought she’d touched the Army Colt she’d taken from Caleb. Then, she recognized the flat, smooth planes of Stone’s strongbox.

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With a heavy heart, she lifted it to her lap. The metal box had been under the seat of her spring wagon the last time she’d seen it. Only Nancy could have transferred it into her bag. She had probably figured it belonged to the McKays and made certain it was included in Ruby’s baggage. “You look like there’s a rattlesnake in there,” Sarah observed. “What is it, really?” “My sister’s diary.” “Why do you keep it locked up?” “I don’t,” Ruby told her. “The man who killed her put it in here so she couldn’t destroy it like she wanted. I had to take the whole strongbox because I couldn’t open it.” “Why would he do such a thing?” “It’s of no importance, now. I may as well throw the whole thing into a river.” Sarah laid a staying hand on Ruby’s arm. “Don’t do that. The baby might someday find comfort in his ma’s words.” She pondered the locked box. “How can we open it?” “I don’t know.” Ruby turned the box in her hands. “I tried using a knife to pry it, but had no luck at all.” A smirk lifted one corner of Sarah’s mouth. “I hate to admit it, but I believe we need the services of a man.”

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“Wash your mouth out with lye soap.” “I’m serious. They know about such things.” “I’d rather chuck the whole box.” “Nonsense. Here.” Handing Moses back to Ruby, Sarah picked up the box and got to her feet, leaning her hip against the back edge of the seat till she got her balance. Nervously, Ruby watched. Of the closest gentlemen... and she used that definition loosely...only one seemed possessed of enough know-how to help or enough refinement to be discrete. His clothes were relatively clean, his boots of the cavalry type. A thick beard and mustache, trimmed but long, covered his cheeks, upper lip and chin. Although he was slouched in the seat with his fingers laced across his chest, he seemed more alert and aware of his surroundings than most of the other passengers. She was not surprised when Sarah paused at his seat. Box in hand, she said, “Excuse me, sir?” Ruby watched in silence as the man tilted back the gray felt hat that had rested low over his eyes. The rakish angle of the hat made him look surprisingly attractive, she noted, wondering what lay hidden beneath the beard. The man uncrossed his legs and straightened. “Yes, Miss...?” Sarah extended the box to him. “Kussner.”

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His nod was cursory. “Miss Kussner.” “Sir. My sister and I lost the key to our strongbox and we was wonderin’ if you mightn’t open it for us?” He scowled, first at Sarah, then past her at Ruby. She couldn’t help but blush under his scrutiny. It wasn’t polite to stare at a lady that way. Then again, they had disturbed his nap. “I might,” he finally said, directing his query toward Ruby. “Is there a reward, Miss...?” Sarah wheeled. At Ruby’s nod of agreement she turned back to the man. “Mrs., um, Harvey, says we’ll offer a small one—for a small favor.” The man drew his hand over his beard thoughtfully before he said, “Give it here, then.” Taking out a pen knife he inserted its thin blade into the lock. In seconds, the hasp was free. She gasped with joy. “Oh, thank you!” Handing the strongbox back to Sarah he waved her off like a pesky fly, closed his eyes and settled the hat over his face once more. Happily successful, Sarah returned to Ruby and gave her the box. “’Case anyone asks, I think you should keep calling yourself Mrs. Harvey. That was the only name what came to me. Guess I was thinkin’ of my new job.” “You thought quickly and I thank you. What about his reward?”

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“I reckon the gentleman was teasin’ us.” Sarah waited expectantly as Ruby lifted the lid of the strongbox. Emma’s diary was on the very top, its blue fabric cover unblemished, its pages filled with the record of a life of anguish. Unable to bring herself to read more than a line or two, Ruby slipped the sorrowful book into her carpetbag alongside Moses’s clothing. She started to close the hated strongbox. “Wait! What about the rest of the things in there?” “They’re not mine,” Ruby said. “I’ll not touch Caleb Stone’s possessions.” “How do you know there’s nothing else of your sister’s?” Surprised that she had been so caught up in her hatred of Caleb that she’d overlooked the obvious, Ruby thanked God for placing Sarah beside her. “You’re right. I don’t.” She lifted the lid once again. There were scroll-decorated deeds of title in the next layer, a graduation certificate and law degree from an obscure, eastern college, and assorted newspaper clippings, which Ruby set aside. Below all that, there was a letter of credit, signed and witnessed by Parkerson Hocker, listing Caleb Stone as rightful owner of one half of the late Asa McKay’s bank account. The letter was in a large envelope, together with banded bundles of money. Caleb had usurped Emma’s inheritance from Papa even before her death!

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“Oh, my!” Sarah gasped. Quickly, Ruby slammed the lid. “Hush!” “But, did you see all that...?” “I did. And the letter from the bank. I assume he kept that in order to torment my sister. Instead, it assures me I’ll not be stealing. By rights, half of Papa’s money is mine. It doesn’t matter which half.” Hardening to the necessities of her plight and fully determined to prevail without sacrificing her integrity, Ruby praised a benevolent heavenly Father for providing for her in this hour of need. She didn’t yet know how much money was in the envelope, but whatever the amount, it was a lot more than she’d had before she’d opened the strongbox.

SAFE AT his parents’ home in Kansas City, Pearce Hocker was floundering, lost in the hellish world of his own conscience. He knew his somber mood was making everyone else miserable, but he didn’t really care. Truth to tell, he didn’t care about anything except the one thing he couldn’t have—Emma. As children, they’d played and teased, never dreaming the time would come when their childish affection would bloom into a grand and beautiful love. Pearce swallowed hard, forcing back the tears that had once again gathered in his eyes. He simply could not believe she was gone.

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A heavy hand on his shoulder startled him. It was his father. “Come out to the barn with me. I want to talk to you.” “Later.” Pearce wasn’t certain he’d be able to restrain his emotions if his father started to berate him the way he usually did. “Now.” The older man lowered his voice. “While your sisters are in the kitchen helping your mother.” “I promised Mother I’d take the leavings to the chickens. I’ll be out then.” “You can see to your mother’s hens later.” Pearce sighed in resignation. Why not get it over with? Everybody knew Parkerson was a friend of Caleb Stone’s. Maybe, in the course of conversation, his father would inadvertently reveal some of the answers Pearce had been searching for, of late. Getting to his feet, he followed obediently. The air was damp, the sun just beginning to set. Frost crackled on the hay beneath their feet as they passed through the wide barn doors. Familiar smells of horses and cows were pungent even in the chilly atmosphere. Shoulders slumped, Pearce sat down heavily on a sack of sweet feed and looked blankly up at his father. “All right. What is it?” “You’re in a fine mess,” the banker began.

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Pearce was not wont to argue. “I told you, from the time you were sixteen, to get yourself into town and use one of the girls at Liz’s or Big Mable’s, but, oh, no, you had to go and fool with a married woman! Hell, with your looks you could have had them standing in line for your services.” Gorge rose in Pearce’s constricting throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Father.” “Oh, yes, you do. You’re a party to adultery. You know it and I know it. What’s worse, I think Caleb Stone knows it, too. If it wasn’t for his Christian charity, the whole town would be talking and we’d be ruined, thanks to you.” Pearce’s reaction was partly angry, partly penitent. Further lying was obviously futile. “I loved her.” “Love? Hah! You’re only nineteen. You craved a woman’s body, not her heart. A few trips to Liz’s with me and you’d have forgotten about that little skirt of yours.” “No, I wouldn’t. Emma needed me. What we had was wonderful.” “Keep your voice down before someone overhears and your mother gets all up in arms. The last thing we need is for her to get wind of this. She’s too involved with Ruby McKay, already.” “I don’t understand.” “It’s not difficult. Your mother has a soft head to go with her soft heart. She’s damned lucky I was able to convince everyone she’d been duped into helping Ruby leave town. By the time the story appears in

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the Wyandotte Herald tomorrow, all mention of the Hockers will have been deleted.” Pearce didn’t like the look on his father’s face or the implication that his mother had done something wrong. He rose and grasped Parkerson’s arm. “What the hell is going on? What’s happened to Miss Ruby? And what does Mother have to do with it?” Parkerson laughed sardonically. “In a way, it’s all your fault...you and your randy ways.” He raised an eyebrow at his fair-haired son. “Can’t say I’m surprised, though. All I have to do is look at your mother and she’s carrying another Hocker inside her.” He chuckled. “That’s why I spend so much time at Liz’s.” “What does my behavior have to do with Miss McKay?” Pearce demanded. “Plenty.” He ran one finger under his starched, white collar. “She’s stolen Emma’s son. He’s got blue eyes and blonde hair. It doesn’t take a professional stockman to figure the bastard’s daddy was probably fair. Like you.” Pearce felt himself losing control. His desire to hit his father for his slurs on dear Emma and the child were nearly as strong as his need to hear the rest of the story. In his deepest heart he wanted to believe that Emma’s child was his, not Stone’s. It was almost too sweet a truth to bear. Waiting, Parkerson seemed to be enjoying himself. Finally he said, “You heard Caleb Stone was shot?” “Yes.” But he survived, Pearce added to himself, wishing the reverse were true. Hell, at the funeral

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he’d looked positively hearty. “He claims Ruby shot him for no reason.” “That’s absurd,” Pearce countered. “If she did do it, it’s because he forced her to. No jury will ever convict her.” “For shooting Stone, maybe not, although he can be a mighty persuasive speaker.” Parkerson smiled with the pleasure of a man possessing a delicious secret. “The thing is, she also killed Adam Powell.” “I don’t believe it!” “You’d better. His body was found in her barn. Judge Stone says he was the picture of health when he left him there and drove into town to hire the undertaker.” “Stone left him there?” Parkerson nodded. “I see what you’re getting at, boy. You mean to accuse Caleb Stone. Well, you just put that crazy idea out of your head. You’ve wronged the man enough by bedding his wife. Don’t think of making it worse, you hear?” “I hear.” But Pearce’s mind was elsewhere. A son. The baby was his son. He should have guessed, when Emma sent him away, that it was for his own protection. He should have guessed and refused to leave her. Oh, why didn’t she tell him? With tears of pride shining in his eyes, Pearce looked up at his father. “I wish Ruby and the baby

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well. She’s a brave woman. She’ll elude Stone.” Parkerson laughed heartily. “Oh, I think not. We already know where she’s headed. Caleb is hiring a Philadelphia detective agency and I’ve got men checking the routes west, just in case. It’s only a matter of time before his men or mine locate her.” “And then?” “And then she’ll pay for her crimes,” Parkerson said matter-of-factly. “Why are you helping Judge Stone do this terrible thing?” Pearce stared at his father as if seeing him for the first time. “And why tell me?” “To keep you out of it,” Parkerson said. “The judge has a lot of money in our bank. You’ll do well to remember that.” “It’s your bank, Father, not mine.” Pearce rose to leave. The older man grasped his arm, swinging him around till they stood toe to toe. “Let go of me.” It was then that Pearce saw the movement of a familiar shadow in the yard beyond the open barn door. When he turned abruptly to look, so did his father. They stared. Pearce recovered his voice, first. “I was just coming back in to get the scraps for the chickens, Mother. You didn’t need to come out in the cold.” Nancy stood, silent and still as stone.

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Chapter 5 IT WAS late afternoon by the time Ruby’s train pulled into Topeka. Ice on the tracks had slowed their westward progress in spite of the fact that the weather was now clear and crisp with little remaining of the storm she had braved three days before. Still, she wasn’t about to jeopardize her chances of escape by taking time out for the lark Sarah was suggesting. She shook her head. “Oh, please, come with me,” Sarah begged, fixing her bonnet on her head and tying the ribbon. “The conductor says you have an hour lay-over here. Harvey House is just above the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe station. We didn’t order our dinner ahead, but we can still look. Everyone says it’s a grand sight.” “I don’t want to leave the train,” Ruby argued. “Please? I’m frightened to go alone.” Ruby supposed such nervousness was normal, since getting a job with Harvey House meant so much to Sarah. “I’m sorry,” Ruby said. She lowered her voice, leaning closer. “Don’t you see? I could be recognized out there.”

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The train was easing to a stop, its brakes squealing, its engine blowing off steam in great billowing clouds. Other passengers had filled the narrow aisles. “If you stay here,” Sarah pointed out, “you may be nearly alone. Seems to me you’d stand out like a black sheep in a blizzard.” “Maybe you’re right.” Ruby eyed her carpetbag. “I can’t leave that here, though, and it’s mighty heavy.” “You need a Chatelaine pocket,” Sarah said. “Ma gave me one ‘fore I left home.” Ruby nodded thoughtfully as she watched the hoards of passengers filing past. “I was in too much of a hurry to plan very well. There are many things I wish I’d brought...like pictures of my family.” “If you get off with me, we can find a dry-goods store and maybe buy you a pocket of your own. Least that way you can put all that...you know...under your skirts where it’ll be safe.” She cocked one eyebrow and nodded her head toward the treasure in the carpetbag. “We could, couldn’t we?” Ruby glanced back up the aisle and saw that few passengers remained. Two men who looked like old Indian fighters had stretched out to sleep on the benches while they had the chance. The gentleman who had helped Sarah open Caleb’s strongbox sat with his arms folded across his chest, dozing. Sarah was right. As the only ladies left in the car, they did seem out of place. “All right.” Ruby rose stiffly. “We’ll go together.”

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“Oh, bless you!” Sarah gave her a quick hug. “I’ll tote the baby.” “You could carry your valise and my bag.” “Not on your life,” Sarah declared. “Mine is no problem. But I’d just as soon not have no responsibility for yours, if you don’t mind.” “All right.” Handing Moses to the taller woman, Ruby hoisted the carpetbag. By leaning sideways as she had on her trip to the station that morning, she managed to get it all the way off the floor. The overworked muscles in her left shoulder protested. Sarah took pity on her. “Here. Slip my grip bag inside, then you keep hold of one handle and I’ll take the other.” “Agreed.” Ruby was in no position to quibble. As a team, they managed to work their awkward burden off the train and onto the platform. “There’s Harvey House,” Sarah exclaimed. “See the sign? It’s up above the station, just like the conductor said. Isn’t this exciting?” She began to pull Ruby ahead by the handle on the bag. “Look. There’s the stairs.” Ruby was struggling to keep up when she heard a deep voice behind her. “Excuse me, ladies.” She whirled. It was the bearded gentleman from the train. He wasn’t sleeping after all. Her heart

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began to beat too fast. Her hands trembled. Close up, his dark eyes were even more penetrating. And there were little crinkled smile lines at the corners. He tipped his hat. “Braxton Rutledge, at your service. Can I assist you with your burden? It looks heavy.” Oh, Lord! Suppose he’d seen the money when he opened the box! Ruby gathered her courage and concentrated on sounding well-bred and aloof. “We can manage quite well, thank you.” “Your friend has her baby and all,” he said, focusing on Ruby. “Surely, she would like some help.” Ruby’s eyes widened. “Oh, but...” “I’m quite used to totin’ little ones,” Sarah interrupted. “Have an older one at home, too, don’t you know.” She smiled sweetly. “But my sister and I do thank you for your offer.” He touched the brim of his hat. “My pleasure.” Ruby watched him turn and walk away. She hoped to heavens the fear she was feeling didn’t show on her face. “I think he was just bein’ polite,” Sarah said. “Didn’t see the need to correct him once he’d made up his mind the baby was mine, though. Not with somebody chasin’ you.” “I’m not positive anyone is,” Ruby said. “By the looks of your face, I’d say you was pretty certain,” Sarah countered. “So for now, let’s

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pretend this little man is mine, shall we?” With a small, grateful smile, Ruby agreed. “Much obliged.” She pointed up at Harvey House. “You must let me buy you something to eat.” “Oh, I couldn’t.” “Consider it a lesson,” Ruby explained. “That way, you’ll know what it is Mr. Harvey expects from his girls.” “Do you really think it’ll help?” “Surely. And I am beholden to you for all your kindness.” “Just bein’ neighborly. You’d of done the same for me if I was in need.” Ruby knew that was true. She glanced back over her shoulder at the busy railway platform. There, leaning against the depot wall, was the man from the train. Once again, his hat rested low over his eyes. He was facing west, so she saw only his profile, yet Ruby swore she could feel his eyes following her every step.

THE SUN felt good on Brax’s face. The warmth reflecting off the depot wall warmed him clear through his sheepskin jacket. He’d had enough of the ice and snow on the plains to last him till way past spring.

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Tipping his hat back on his head he took a deep breath. The air in Texas was more to his liking. Except when he was trailing a herd, he added quickly. Then, the dust was enough to turn a man’s hair white and choke his lungs till he couldn’t swallow for coughing. Straightening, he watched the women from the train start up the stairs to Harvey House as he cursed the luck that had put him in the same car as Ruby McKay. Now that he was certain he’d inadvertently encountered her, he couldn’t just walk away. Not that he wanted the reward. Hocker could keep his blood money. It was the baby that Brax was worried about. If a young one had no mama, he belonged with his pa. Brax huffed, closed his coat and started after the women. His own son would be what...four or five by now? Damned if he knew. Since he’d stopped kidding himself about settling down and sending for the boy someday, he’d lost track. He stiffened, increased his pace. Nobody had a right to make off with a man’s son. Nobody.

THE DINING room of Harvey House had more elegance than Ruby had expected of a place designed to accommodate railroad travelers. Crisply-ironed white linen cloths draped tables set with china, silver and crystal. Only the spittoons on the floor detracted from the aura of refined gentility.

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Sarah stood in the doorway, gaping, till Ruby urged her on. They chose an out-of-the-way table near the back of the room. A friendly young woman in a starched white apron and black uniform approached before Ruby had finished removing her red cloak. “Good afternoon,” she said with a slight curtsey. “If you ladies ordered dinner on the train, you should sit at one of the tables we’ve already prepared for your pleasure.” “I’m afraid we didn’t order ahead,” Ruby said. “Can we still get a bite to eat?” “Yes, ma’am,” the Harvey Girl said. “We must hurry, as you know. What do you recommend?” “Our apple pie is very good.” Ruby smiled over at Sarah. “Will that be enough, do you think?” “Oh, yes. I’m so excited I don’t know if I can eat at all.” “Fine. Please bring us two orders of pie and coffee.” She laid her napkin across her lap as the serving girl turned over one empty cup for each of them and hurried off. “If you’ll hand me my grip bag, I’ll pay my share,” Sarah said, mimicking Ruby’s actions with her napkin. Ruby raised her hand. “Nonsense. Forget about that. Use the time to look around. Watch how the girls act. How they speak. You can learn a lot by observing.”

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“You sound like a teacher.” “I am—was.” While a second girl bustled past, stopping only long enough to pour hot coffee, their original server appeared with large, appetizing wedges of warm pie. The cinnamon aroma brought back fond memories to Ruby; memories of Mama’s cozy kitchen and their Saturday baking together. Smiling, she watched Sarah sample a forkful. “Umm. This is larrupin’! Ma was afraid I’d waste away. Bet that don’t happen.” Ruby laughed lightly. “I’ll bet not.” “You ought to eat, too,” Sarah said. “The conductor told me it’s at least six more hours to Salina in the best a weather.” “I’m afraid my stomach is a mass of knots,” Ruby confessed. “I don’t know if I can choke anything down.” Beginning to inhale deeply, she stopped in the middle of the breath, her heart fluttering. There, at the door, stood the man who’d introduced himself as Braxton Rutledge. Something about him made her heart palpitate, her breath grow short. How many meetings could be genuine coincidence? The more often she encountered him, the stronger her suspicions grew that he was not simply a fellow traveler. But if not, what could she hope to do about it?

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Sarah was eating and rocking Moses gently. She scowled at Ruby’s expression, then turned to follow the path of her friend’s gaze. “It’s him again.” “I know.” “Do you think it’s the money he’s after?” “I dearly hope that’s all he wants,” Ruby said. “I left Kansas City in secret, but it’s possible he was sent to watch the departing trains and is looking for me.” “If that’s the case, why hasn’t he done something?” “I don’t know, but I can’t take any chances. I have to behave as if he’s a real threat.” “How can I help?” Pushing her chair away from the table, Ruby gathered up her napkin, placed it next to her fork, then passed her uneaten pie across the table. She leaned down, reached into the carpetbag, and retrieved some of the money Nancy had given her. “You stay with Moses and enjoy the food. I’m quite sure you’ll be safe as long as you’re here, among so many other people.” She stood. “Where are you going?” Ruby paused. “To find a general store and buy the Chatelaine pocket you suggested. I can’t keep lugging this heavy bag around all the time. It will slow me down too much.”

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“Take care.” Sarah smiled up at her. “I’ll watch over our little man.” “I know you will,” Ruby said. “If I’m detained, please use whatever you need from the bag.” “Oh, I couldn’t.” “You must.” She leaned down and kissed Moses, then placed a light kiss on Sarah’s rosy cheek and paused to whisper, “I have a plan. Trust me.” Sarah nodded. “God be with you.” “God, and my wits,” Ruby countered. “I’ll need both, I’m certain.”

IN LEAVING the restaurant by the back door, Ruby had garnered little attention from anyone but the cooks and the busy Harvey Girls. She reentered the same way and slipped into her chair. The large package she carried was wrapped in brown paper and tied with a string. It, she secreted on the floor between the folds of her long skirt and the wall. “The man in the gray hat hasn’t moved a muscle except to eat,” Sarah reported. “Moses has been a bit fussy, though. He wants a sugar tit, I think.” Untying the string that held her purchases, Ruby rifled through them till she found the bottle of Paregoric she was looking for. “The woman at the mercantile said this would make him sleepy.” She

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passed the bottle to Sarah. “Careful. No more than twenty drops.” Sarah hesitated. “You sure you want to give him this?” “He must be perfectly still if my plan is to work.” She watched as Sarah administered the medicine. “I saved your pie for you. You’d best eat it. Our friend from the train is watching.” Ruby complied. Leaning over the table she spoke softly. “I’ve bought another, lighter traveling bag, a baby-doll and two new blankets. We’ll have to make the switch while we sit right here.” “I don’t understand.” Sarah was frowning. Reaching down with one hand, Ruby opened the new traveling bag. It had a broad, flat bottom already, and by the time she had added some of her things and Moses’ clothing for padding, it made a perfect little closed bed. “We’re going to smuggle him out of here in an ark of bulrushes, just like baby Moses in the bible,” Ruby said. Sarah started to hand him over. Ruby stopped her. “No. Keep his blanket on your lap when you give him to me.” She settled her dear nephew into his new bed, paused a few moments, then lifted the baby-doll in his place. Curling her arm around it, she rocked it, then gave it to Sarah. “You’re the clever gal,” Sarah remarked. “I’d never of thought a this.”

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“My carpetbag is yours to keep now, too,” Ruby said. “I’ve taken out everything I truly need, including the papers that were in Caleb’s strongbox.” “You bought a pocket for the money?” “Yes. I’ll make that switch once I’m back aboard the train.” She covered one of Sarah’s hands with hers. “I wouldn’t ask so much of you if I weren’t desperate. Are you sure you don’t mind?” “If that awful man is looking for you and our little Moses, of course, I don’t mind.” “Bless you.” Tears misted Ruby’s eyes. “I hope I’m wrong. Caleb is a cruel, cruel man. And clever.” Sarah smiled. “Not as clever as you, I’ll wager.” A whistle blast sounded in the background and their serving girl approached. “The train to Denver is leaving in ten minutes, ladies. Is there anything else I can do for you before then?” Ruby got to her feet. “Thank you, no,” she said, paying for the pie and leaving a generous tip. She bent down. It was hard to bring herself to close the top of the traveling case over Moses. She managed only because she knew she had no choice. To her delight, Sarah was play-acting beautifully, cooing and fussing over the inanimate bundle in the blanket so much that Ruby, herself, would have believed it was Moses, had she not known the truth. Head up, back straight, she swirled the red cloak over her shoulders, tied the neck bow and led the

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way out of the still crowded restaurant without looking back. She knew Rutledge followed. She could feel it. “Is he coming?” Sarah asked in a whisper. “Yes, I think so. Lord, I’d love to peek at the baby and be certain he’s all right.” “He’s fine,” Sarah assured her. “Paregoric keeps ‘em real quiet. It never hurt Robert none, honest.” They’d reached the platform next to the waiting, westbound train. Ruby turned to bid her friend goodbye. There were tears in her eyes as well as in Sarah’s. Looking past the taller girl’s shoulder, she saw their nemesis approaching. “He’s followed us!” Ruby put her hand on Sarah’s arm. “I’ve left a little money for you in the carpetbag. Will you be all right?” “’Course I will. I wasn’t raised with brothers for nothing. If that fella gets out a line, I’ll just conk him with the nearest spittoon.” Sarah’s bravado made Ruby laugh. “I’ll bet you would.” “Darn right.” She hugged and rocked the doll. “Got to keep our little man safe, don’t we?” “You’re an angel.” “Just get yourself and your ‘baggage’ on that train and skedaddle. I’ll try to keep him guessin’ till you’re safely away. Now, go.”

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Ruby turned reluctantly and boarded the train, choosing a seat by the window. Taking care to keep her precious cargo from being unnecessarily jostled, she opened the top of the bag ever so slightly and set it gently on the floor. From the window, she saw Sarah walking back toward Harvey House. To anyone casually observing the scene, the young woman looked convincingly maternal. Filled with affection and gratitude, Ruby’s heart went out to her brave friend. Though Sarah had feared the challenge of the inquisitors at Harvey House, she had unflinchingly volunteered to help a fellow traveler. If her good deeds were rewarded as they should be, Sarah Kussner was certain to get the position she wanted with Mr. Harvey’s staff. Ruby’s eyes widened. Her hands flew to her face, fingertips pressed tight to her lips to seal them against a shout of warning. Her worst suspicions were being confirmed. Rutledge had turned away from the train. He was following Sarah! And he was armed!

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Chapter 6 SARAH left the depot and crossed Main street. She wasn’t afraid. Not really. Topeka spooked her a bit because of its size and fancy buildings. The man following her was another matter. He was flesh and bone. That, she could handle. Lifting the hem of her skirt higher in order to climb up onto the boardwalk in front of the dry goods store, Sarah turned to look back at the departing train. The engine was puffing clouds of smoke and blowing steam. It’s wheels slipped then caught, slipped then caught, before finally finding a grip on the slick steel rails. In the second car, third window from the front, she thought she saw Ruby’s face. Sarah set the carpetbag by her feet to free one hand and waved. She saw Rutledge, too, out of the corner of her eye. He had paused halfway across the street, apparently to watch her, and was being splashed with mud from a passing team and freight wagon. Sarah laughed aloud at her good fortune. While he was cursing, wiping himself off and struggling to reach her side of the street, she’d been afforded the perfect opportunity to duck out of sight and cause him no end of consternation. Completely forgetting her nervousness about finding a job she stepped quickly down the walkway until she came to a pair of carved, leaded-glass doors that had Gage House written on

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them in scrolled, gold lettering. This part of Topeka seemed quite civilized. Surely, any hotel here would be safe for an unescorted lady of her age and disposition. Stomping her shoes first to remove mud she darted inside, pulled the door closed behind her, and stared in awe. The room was like the finest parlor Sarah had ever imagined. Well-dressed, fashionable ladies and gentlemen were perched on brocaded settees, talking. Beyond the colorfully woven red and blue Persian carpet, a comely young man stood behind a long counter. He smiled slightly, invitingly. His eyes were the oddest, most appealing shade of blue Sarah had ever seen. His hair was thick and tawny, like the Summer wheat on the Kansas prairie. The young man nodded politely, giving her the courage she needed to approach. “Welcome to Gage House,” he said. “May I help you?” “I—I need a room for one night, please.” “Yes, ma’am. Is your husband joining you?” Sarah giggled. “No.” His voice made her skin tickle like the down of a baby chick brushing across her cheek. “I see. Perhaps you’re traveling with another member of your family, then?” “’Fraid not.” She sobered. It was becoming apparent that Gage House frowned on renting rooms to

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unescorted young ladies. Had she gone straight to Mr. Harvey’s, there would have been no problem. However, she couldn’t do that while pretending to be a mother. Oh, bother. She gathered her wits. “Perhaps there’s a hotel or boarding house nearby where a respectable lady can rent a room?” The hotel clerk straightened, eyeing the blanket-wrapped bundle in Sarah’s arms. “Miss Hattie’s is over on Second Street. But it caters only to single ladies.” When he began to blush, Sarah liked him even more. She was trying to decide whether to take him into her confidence when she felt the painful grip of a man’s large hand tightening around her upper arm. Looking up, she found herself staring into the face of Braxton Rutledge! She twisted frantically, trying to free herself. Rutledge’s gaze never left her, never gave her the chance to flee. Nor did his hold slacken. “Come on,” he said, “I’ve found us a room down the road.” Sarah struggled harder. “No!” “Oh, yes.” Desperate, she looked to the hotel clerk for help. Though he was of slighter build than Rutledge and quite a bit younger, she prayed that he’d step forward in her defense. “Please,” Sarah pleaded. “Don’t let him take me!”

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She saw a passing gentleman start to move closer, presumably to intercede. A fancy-dressed woman laid a restraining hand on his arm. The rest of the hotel guests had already backed away or quickly left the room when the altercation began. Sarah’s shoes were sliding on the floor. It was with great difficulty that she managed to keep her balance and hold tight to the doll. Polite resistance was not bringing anyone to her aid, so she decided to try a louder, more forceful tack. “Help! Help!” she screamed, kicking at her attacker’s legs and pummeling him with her free hand. He winced when her shoe connected with his knee. Extending his arms to move her lethal feet farther from his body, Rutledge scowled. “Stop that.” “You stop it,” the clerk ordered. He leveled a double- barreled shotgun at the big man’s midsection. “You don’t understand,” Rutledge said, letting go of Sarah and raising his hands slightly. “This woman is a fugitive. She’s killed a man and stolen that baby.” A hush fell over the room. No one moved but Sarah. She edged away and stood aside, fighting to catch her breath. Judging by the low murmuring in the room, most of the folks believed her accuser. Even the hotel clerk looked dubious. And why not? Anyone could see from her drab, homespun clothing that she didn’t belong in a place like the Gage House. She was an outsider, not one of them, and thus doubly suspect.

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The frightening possibilities of her situation increased Sarah’s shaking, weakened her knees. If they let Rutledge take her away, there was no telling what he would do to her once he discovered he’d been tricked. The train was gone, giving Ruby a head start. Now, it was time to save herself. She drew herself up tall, forced a smile. “You’re lyin’. I reckon all you want is the money you know I’m carryin’.” He snarled. “You’re as bad as they told me, aren’t you? Well, you’re not fooling me. You’ll never get away. I want the Stone baby and you’d better give him to me.” Sarah’s muscles tightened, her mind working quickly. “Fine. Have him, then.” With a surprising spurt of energy she tossed the doll straight at the man’s chest. His mouth dropped open as the blanket-wrapped bundle hit him, hard. He fumbled. It fell to the floor with a thud and the sharp crack of shattering china. In the background, the woman who had restrained her husband screamed and swooned. Grabbing Ruby’s carpetbag, Sarah hurried to the counter, circled the end and ducked behind the stunned clerk. He’d lowered the shotgun till it’s barrel rested across the counter. Rutledge reached for the crumpled bundle. The blanket fell away. Cursing, he threw the broken doll to the floor, turned on his heel, and ran out the door into the street, his hand on the butt of his revolver. Weak with fright, Sarah leaned against the counter. She smiled slightly and managed a breathless, “Thank you.”

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“What in the...?” “It’s a powerful long story.” Her composure was returning. She smoothed the wrinkles in her skirt and quickly walked back to the public portion of the lobby. The clerk said, “My mother rents rooms. I’m sure she can put you up.” “Oh. Would that be proper? I was going to see Mr. Harvey about a job. I’m told I can board with the other single ladies if I get work there.” “You can. But right now I think you’d be safer at my ma’s. She’ll take good care of you.” Looking around her at the fashionable ladies parading through the room once again, Sarah felt both poorly dressed and lacking in social graces. “I thank you,” she said. “I just wonder why you’d want to help me.” “Because you are the bravest lady I’ve ever met.” He slid the shotgun back into its hiding place beneath the counter. “And because, like as not, I’ll die of curiosity if you don’t tell me what in the name of heaven is going on.” “It’s a mystery,” Sarah said. “And the Lord works in mysterious ways. The greatest blessing is when a body knows for sure she’s part of the Almighty’s plan.” “Amen.” He circled the counter and lifted her bag for her. Pausing, he bowed. “My name is Gabriel Gage, ma’am. No relation to the angel, Gabriel.”

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Sarah stifled a giggle. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

IT TOOK Braxton Rutledge little time to find a telegraph office and dispatch the news of his encounter in Topeka. Waiting for an answer, he cursed his own stupidity. Hocker had told him that the woman called Ruby was a pretty one. And he’d followed the plainer girl because he’d thought she had the baby. The sight of the doll flying at him had given him a start, that’s a fact, yet he was certain there had been a real baby on the train. So what had happened to it? Could it still be in town? Brax doubted that the woman, if she were Ruby McKay, would abandon a child she had killed for. Still, he couldn’t be sure. The law would be served if he simply notified Hocker as promised, then went on his way. His conscience rebelled. Law was one thing, justice was another. When Annie had died and her family had come for his own son, he could have tried to stop them. Many’s the night he’d laid awake under the open sky wondering if he should have. Instead, he’d let the boy go to a home with a roof over it, three square meals a day and proper schooling, while he’d wallowed in sorrow and nearly drunk himself into oblivion. That was what made his situation so different from this one. In his own way, he had chosen. The father of this baby had been given no such choice.

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The telegraph key chattered, the young operator writing furiously. In the silence that followed, Brax waited, lost in the timelessness of precious memories. “You Rutledge?” the telegrapher asked. “I am.” “Then this is for you.” He started to recite the message. “I can read,” Brax said, taking the paper from him. “Sorry. Just figured to save you some time.” Brax nodded. “No offense taken.” Studying the paper for a moment he folded it and slid it into the pocket of his coat. “Can you recommend a hotel—besides the Gage, that is?” Lounging against his desk the operator grinned. “Ain’t you gonna go to the Golden Apple, like the message said?” Brax could see that the telegrapher thought he’d lied about having the ability to read. He chuckled. “A man can’t get much sleep in a place like that. I’m bushed.” Drawing his hand over his beard he added, “A haircut would be nice, too, since I have to wait for someone.” “There’s a couple of hotels on Front Street, near Main, besides the Gage. You don’t like that place?” Brax laughed again, softly. “Something tells me I’d not be too welcome there,” he said, tossing another dollar onto the counter. “Send a reply to Mr. Hocker for me. Just say I’ll meet Stone at the

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Golden Apple tomorrow night, like he wanted.” “Anything else?” The telegrapher waited, pencil poised. “Nope.” Brax settled his hat back on his head and turned toward the door. “No need to ramble on. I’ll tell the man what I need to when he gets here.”

PARKERSON Hocker had received Brax’s message at the bank, answered it, then hurried to find Caleb Stone. Stone was livid. “Is he sure it was her?” “No. He thinks it was, though. I wired back for him to meet you tomorrow night in Topeka.” “Where?” “The Golden Apple. I knew you and Dora had an arrangement. I figured it’d be best not to trust strangers.” “This man can be trusted?” “As far as anyone, I suppose. He’s a customer of the bank’s. Brought a load of cattle up for slaughter and saw Ruby on the train with the baby when he was heading home.” “It’d better be her. I’ve got no time for mistakes.”

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“None of us have. It’s not my fault you left those deeds of trust in your strongbox where anyone could get at them.” Caleb scowled at him. “Enough about that. The woman is so stupid she’ll never realize what she’s got. Besides, there’s no way to trace problems in Lincoln County to us.” “Problems? You call what happened over there, problems? “I do. And minor ones, at that.” Caleb began to smirk. “You must remember, my friend, that I’m in a unique position. My wife has died, my baby son has been stolen, and I’m on a first-name basis with half the politicians in this state, not to mention Washington. If need be, we can probably call in the United States Army.” Parkerson flinched. Running his finger under his tight collar he stared at Caleb. “Would that be wise?” “Don’t worry. I doubt it’ll be necessary,” he said. “If the woman has gone east, as we first assumed, then the Pinkerton man I hired will locate her. If she went west, so much the better. Folks out there aren’t so quick to question where a man comes from or what his motives are. We’ll find her.” “You seem certain,” Parkerson said. “I’d rest a lot easier if I could be sure.” “I have the power of the law behind me.” Caleb drew himself up to his full height and thrust out his chin. “I can’t be bested. Ruby McKay is mine. It’s simply a matter of time.”

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THE CONSTANT sight of the gaunt telegraph poles sticking up out of the snow along the tracks, and the knowledge of the communications possible along the wires they bore, were what finally made Ruby decide to disembark in Newton, Kansas. Newton was little more than a whistle-stop. Hardly the place anyone would expect her to try to hide. Therefore, it suited her purpose perfectly. When the train halted for a ten minute layover, she hoisted her bag, got off, and simply walked away. Main street ran at right-angles to the tracks. A boarded walkway led from the point of embarkation directly to the front door of a saloon. Local people crowded around the platform hawking fresh-baked bread, eggs and milk while small boys offered tattered copies of weeks-old newspapers. Two doors past the saloon, Ruby spotted the Scott and Brown Hotel. She didn’t care that its facade was probably bigger and more impressive than its interior. In mulling over her options she’d come to the conclusion she was acting altogether too predictably. Especially now that there was every chance her true course of action had been discovered. Ruby toted her bag in one hand, cradled the baby, and tried to ignore the stares and whistles of the

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dirty, wild-looking men who lined the walk in front of the saloon. Papa used to tell her it was a blessing to have hair the color of a prairie sunset and eyes as blue as cornflowers, and she’d believed him. Now, however, she wasn’t so sure. With all the undue attention she was garnering, she was concerned about being remembered and later identified. The fewer people who noticed her, the better. Making a swift decision, she crossed the street to the A. F. Cosgrove Store and went inside. Aromas of spices, coffee and leather mingled in the stale air. Approaching an older woman who was sweeping near the drygoods table, Ruby managed a smile and a pleasant greeting in spite of her unsettled feelings. The woman stopped working and leaned on the handle of the broom. “Whew! Can I help you?” It occurred to Ruby that the woman and the broom were shaped quite a bit alike. Turn the broom bottom-side-up and they’d nearly be sisters. “Yes,” Ruby said. “I need to dye my hair.” “Ah. Don’t have henna, I’m afraid.” She smiled broadly, revealing the absence of two front teeth and the mottled discoloring of the remaining ones. “Sorry.” “Not red. Black. I want black dye.” “For yourself?” She squinted, assessing. “Now why would you want to do that, a pretty thing like you?”

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Ruby was growing impatient. “Please. Never mind why. Can you help me?” “In a manner of speakin’,” the woman said. “I got my ma’s receipt for dye. Takes ‘bout an hour to make if you got sugar of lead and sulfur. You lookin’ for a place to stay?” “I thought I’d get a room at the hotel.” Casting a sidelong glance across the store she scanned the portion of the street that was visible through the dirty front windows. A couple of Indian squaws were walking by. They paused to peer in at the colorful goods. “I rent rooms upstairs,” the woman volunteered. “Don’t cost as much as the hotel. And that way you don’t have to go out where nobody can see you, again.” “You misunderstand,” Ruby insisted. “I simply want to color my hair to please my husband. He thinks red is too garish.” “Is he the one what’s lookin’ for you?” “No one’s looking for me.” The toothless grin expanded. “And I’m Jenny Lind. You want the room, or not?” Ruby sighed. “Yes. And the dye. If you’ll be so good as to make up a batch for me.” “Lady like you needs better shoes, too,” the woman remarked. “We got calfskin from St. Louis. Real pretty.” “How about a coat?”

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The woman’s eyes widened. She ran one bony hand over the edge of the red cape. “Nothin’ wrong with this one, is there? Nice goods, if I do say so myself. Real quality.” “Would you trade?” Ruby wouldn’t have considered letting Nancy’s cape go if the color wasn’t now known to Rutledge. If he truly was after her, and discovered he’d been tricked before she reached Denver, he could telegraph ahead and have the train met. The red cape would call too much attention to her. It had to go. “I got a pretty butternut brown. Not as fine as the one you already got, though. She’s wove real nice.” Crossing to the counter, the woman produced the heavy coat and held it out to Ruby. It was cut closer to the body and a ridge of braid was sewn in a straight line down the back from collar to hem. The arms were trimmed in the same braid. The garment would suffice. Untying the bow at her throat, Ruby handed the red cape to the storekeeper. “An even trade, then?” “Well, I don’t know...” “The offer is quite fair and you know it, Mrs...” “Cosgrove, like it says on the sign. Me and A. F., we own this place.” “And the room is upstairs?” “Yup. The facilities is out back. You’d best use those afore it gets dark if you’re goin’ to.

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Sometimes the fellas from the saloon gets a bit rowdy.” Ruby took a deep breath and sighed. “Can I also buy dinner here?” “Sure can.” Mrs. Cosgrove seemed to be warming to her mysterious guest. “Havin’ mutton tonight. With bread pudding. One dollar gold, two dollars Lincoln. You’re welcome to eat with us.” “Thank you.” Ruby draped the light brown coat over one arm. With Moses cradled in the other she said, “I’ll just go put the little one in our room, then.” The woman smiled broadly and patted the red fabric of the cloak before laying it aside, obviously pleased at the shrewd trade she’d made. “Fine. I’ll tote your bag for you. The room’s right up these stairs.” She led the way. “How long you stayin’?” “I don’t know. Tonight, at least.” Ruby glanced out the front windows one last time before turning to follow her landlady. Everything looked peaceful. So why was her heart continuing to race? Holding tighter to Moses she thought about Caleb Stone. It was sensible to be frightened. Complacency was for fools. Stone wouldn’t rest until he found her and she knew it.

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Chapter 7 THE Golden Apple lived up to its reputation as the richest saloon and hurdy-gurdy house on the whole west end of Topeka. Gilt covered nearly everything to some degree, especially the ornate picture and mirror frames. The bar was long, of dark, polished wood, with a brass foot rail running the entire length. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their prisms reflecting light like so many stars in the Texas sky. But it was the women who impressed Brax the most. They were magnificent. Not a clinker in the bunch. It was one of those women, an older gal named Dora, with more curves than the Canadian River or the Rio Grande, who had promised to notify him when Judge Stone arrived. And so she did. By her actions as much as by her words. Brax saw her perk up, pinch her cheeks to bring them to color and head straight for a big man with a bandaged left hand who had just come through the door. Brax figured it had to be Stone. “Caleb! You old rascal. Where’ve you been all these months?” Dora crooned. He swept her up in his arms, swung her high off the ground and kissed her cheek soundly. “You know I have important work to do,” he said before burying his face in the smooth flesh of her bare neck and shoulder.

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Dora giggled. “There aren’t enough thieves in Topeka for you?” Her laugh was throaty and inviting. “Nearly.” Caleb patted her bottom. “I’m supposed to meet a man here, tonight. Anyone been asking for me?” “Over by the bar,” she said with a nod. “The fella that looks like a grizzly.” At that, Brax smiled. He’d been compared to lots of different things. This was the first time he recalled being likened to a bear. Drawing one hand over his beard he thought about shaving it off. Come summer, maybe he would. As Caleb Stone approached, Brax sized him up. There was something intimidating about the man. A strong aura of danger. The judge reminded him of a wild mustang. A stallion. An animal that could maybe be broke to ride but could never be truly trusted. Stone extended his hand. “You Rutledge?” “I am.” Brax shook the proffered hand. The man’s grip was firm and sure. “We’ll use Dora’s room, upstairs, to talk,” Stone said. “I want to hear what you know about Ruby McKay.” He turned to Dora. “I’ll see you a bit later.” She reached up to place a kiss on his cheek. “You bet, honey.” Brax followed the broad-shouldered man past the crowded Faro table and up the stairs. Maybe it was the judge’s cold eyes, maybe his general demeanor, but something was sorely amiss. The man had buried

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his wife just a few short days ago and someone had stolen his son. Was it normal that he didn’t seem upset...or even ask about the baby? Oh, hell, what difference did it make? Brax reasoned. A crime was a crime. Nothing said the victim had to be likable to be deserving of justice.

SARAH’S FIRST day as a Harvey girl-in-training had tired her out the way Ma’s fall canning did at home. Nevertheless, she felt elated in spite of her aching bones. A new world had opened for her and she could see the brightest, most exciting future she’d ever imagined. Gabriel—Mr. Gage—had taken all three of his meals at the Harvey House, ostensibly as a show of support for her. Sarah had other ideas about his motives. He’d offered to call for her after she finished work and walk her home if he could get someone else to watch the hotel desk for him. Since he hadn’t been waiting when she was ready to go, she’d assumed he’d been unable to. Her heels made quick, dull thumps on the walkway. She pulled her shawl more closely around her. The nip in the evening air had turned to an icy chill after sunset. Tomorrow, she would leave Mrs. Gage’s and move into the quarters provided by Mr. Harvey for his girls. That way, she wouldn’t have as far to

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walk to and from work. She shivered. It was powerful dark. And quiet. Most folks seemed to have gone home or to have congregated at the saloons and dance halls on the other end of town. Too bad Mrs. Gage’s house was so far. Growing uneasy, Sarah quickened her pace. Buggies were passing, as were solitary riders. Yet, knowing no one, she might as well have been alone in the middle of the prairie. The shadows deepened. Events of the past few days must have taken their toll. She was growing frightened for no apparent reason. At home, she would have laughed off the feeling. Here in the city, she acted. Gathering up her skirts, Sarah began to run. Only three more houses remained between her and the sanctuary of Mrs. Gage’s cozy home. She could see the spiked shadows cast by the picket fence, the lamp burning in the window. Almost there. She was almost.... The broad bulk that blocked her path appeared so suddenly she had no time to stop or dodge. Hands up, she crashed solidly into it. Only then did she realize fully that the object in the dark shadows was a man. She tried to push herself away. His arms held her. “Let me go.” “I will. After we talk.”

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Sarah gasped. Eyes wide, she peered up at the face. That beard, those eyes...and the old gray hat! Rutledge! There was no mistaking her adversary. The question was, why was he bothering her again? “I have nothing to say to you.” She struggled against his hold. “Probably not,” Brax said flatly, “but you are going to come with me. I want to hear about the baby you helped steal.” “No!” She renewed her struggles. Not to be deterred, Brax wrapped one strong arm around her. “If you don’t come with me, I’ll tell the authorities about your involvement in Ruby McKay’s crime.” He eyed her dress and apron, readily identifying them. “Not too proper for a Harvey girl, I’d say.” “I wasn’t involved. Honest, I wasn’t.” “In that case, you won’t mind talking to me.” He softened. “Do this and I promise I’ll not bother you again.” Sarah still held back. “Where are you taking me?” “To a private room above the Golden Apple.” “I can’t go there. I’ll lose my job. I’m a nice girl.” She was surprised when he laughed. “I know you are, ma’am. I’ve been keeping an eye on you. But you must know something about the whereabouts of the Stone baby. I figure I owe it to his papa to find out what.”

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Sarah stiffened. “His pa? The judge?” “That’s right.” Brax eyed her, his head cocked. “Why? You know him?” “No, and I don’t want to,” Sarah said. “I won’t go anywhere he is.” “Why not?” “I just won’t, that’s all. Let go of me.” Brax tightened his hold. “You’re going to talk to Stone and that’s that.” She stopped trying to control her shivering or mask her fear. “Please, no. He’s purely evil.” Taking her in tow, Brax started to stride rapidly down the street. “Behave yourself and no one will notice where we’re going. All the man wants to do is question you about his son.” Sarah struggled to keep up. “Do you know what happened?” “I know enough. Nobody has the right to make off with a man’s flesh-and-blood.” “Ruby does,” Sarah said breathlessly. “Judge Stone killed her sister.”

BRUSHING her now dark, almost ebony hair seemed strange to Ruby. Yet the somber hue fit her mood better than her natural, reddish color. Mrs. Cosgrove took the pan of dusky water to the door of the rented room. “It becomes you. Takes

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gettin’ used to, though, don’t it?” Ruby nodded. “Thank you for your help.” “I didn’t mind. You need anything else for that baby, you just sing out. I’m a light sleeper.” She smiled her broken smile. “I’m beholden. I wish you’d reconsider and accept something extra for your trouble.” “Room rent is plenty,” Mrs. Cosgrove said. “The good Lord always provides for me.” She smiled at the sleeping baby then left, carefully balancing the basin. Ruby closed the door and leaned her back against the frame. It was strange to be so far away from everyone and everything she’d held dear. Strange and frightening. How she longed to sit at home in Mama’s old rocker and read her bible in the peaceful house where she’d been born and raised. She tiptoed to the bureau drawer she’d bedded Moses in for the night. Thank goodness he was such a contented baby. Rarely did he fuss. And when he did, his needs were easily met. Mrs. Cosgrove had taken an instant liking to him, even offering to do his wash, a good deed for which Ruby was deeply grateful. She’d spread her belongings on the bed to take stock of what she had with her so she’d know what she needed to buy before continuing her journey. The trunk that Nancy had so lovingly packed was on its way to Denver ahead of her, so she couldn’t count on it. Nor did she want to. Especially if claiming it caused her to be captured.

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Captured. The word echoed in her mind, her heart. The country west of the Missouri was vast, yes, but within established centers of population the same code of conduct held true whether a person was in Kansas or the territories. Murder was murder. The punishments for committing it were severe. So, what was she to do? The contents of Caleb’s strongbox lay on the bed with Ruby’s other things. She’d left the box, itself, with Sarah, but in her haste to change bags she had simply tucked all the papers, the money, and Emma’s journal into the new bag beside little Moses. Trailing her fingers over the papers she spread them. A yellowing newspaper clipping caught her eye. Lifting it, she carried it closer to the lamp and began to read. In seconds, Ruby had hurried back to the bed and was leafing through her sister’s diary, her heart racing. She found part of what she was looking for on a page marked, February 9. Caleb has returned from the Territories, Emma wrote, and is bragging about cheating the poor settlers out of their land and selling it to the railroad. That couldn’t be all, Ruby thought. Please, God, don’t let it be all. She continued to turn the pages. There it was, just as the newspaper had reported! He tells me how proud he is of being the one to lure the editor of the Lincoln Independent to his death by promising to reveal the names of the men responsible for leaking the information about the

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railroad right-of-way. Ruby clutched the journal to her heart. Her prayers had been answered, after all. She’d just been too busy running away to see the path she must take. Well, no more. She had a mission, now. Deliverance for Moses and herself lay in the lawful destruction of Caleb Stone and his falsely honest reputation. Tears of joy flowed. When Mrs. Cosgrove knocked once then opened the door, Ruby wiped her eyes and smiled broadly. “Oh, dear,” the older woman said. “You don’t like the color, after all?” Ruby absently fingered her damp curls. “The color is fine. Everything is fine.” She accepted the extra blankets the landlady had brought. “Thank you.” “’Twas my pleasure. Can’t have our baby catching a chill, can we.” “He’s fine. Quite content,” Ruby said. “Well, come tomorrow, when the Sinclair family moves on, I’ll put you over in their room. It’s got a fireplace and all.” Taking her hand, Ruby patted it. “Thank you. But I’m afraid we won’t be here.” “You could stay a day or two more. Rest up.” “No,” Ruby said. “You were right when you suspected I was running away. I must keep moving for my own safety.”

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“You know where you’re bound?” She smiled and nodded. “I do now. Do you happen to have a map of the Southwestern Territories I could borrow?”

BRAX HAD paused for a moment when Sarah made her ridiculous claim against Judge Stone. When she couldn’t add details or explain why she believed him guilty, he’d discounted the whole story as a fabrication. A lie Ruby McKay had invented to give credence to her crime. Grasping both of Sarah’s wrists in his strong hands he forced her to stop struggling, face him, and listen. “Be quiet. Unless you want to be seen, drape your shawl over your head to hide your face.” He waited while she complied, then covered the remaining distance to the Golden Apple rapidly, pausing in the alley. Sarah eyed the back stairs leading to the room above the saloon. “Please. Don’t do this.” “I told you—I owe it to Stone. It was my foolishness that let the woman get away.” “Was it? Maybe the Lord blinded your eyes for Ruby’s sake.” “And let her steal the baby?” Brax snorted derisively. “That wouldn’t be justice, divine or otherwise. Not that I believe in that sort of thing.” Taking hold of one of her wrists he started to climb the stairs.

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Sarah stumbled along behind. “Ask the judge. Just ask him how his wife died.” “That’d be adding hurt,” Brax argued. “I’ll not do it.” They’d come to a porch. Light from inside the room shone out under the door. Brax knocked. “Come in.” Removing his hat, Brax tugged Sarah into the room after him. “This is her,” he said. He saw Stone’s eyes narrow, his jaw muscles knot. “Leave us,” Caleb ordered. Sarah clung to Brax’s arm. “No!” She was adamant. “Look at him. Don’t you feel the evil?” Brax had to admit he was feeling something, the same way he got a sense of an impending stampede before the first muley cow started to run. But he couldn’t go along with Sarah’s crazy ideas about good and evil. Life just wasn’t that clear cut. Nodding to Stone, he pried Sarah’s hand from his arm. “I’ll be right outside. When you’re finished, I’ll see her home safe.” That said, he turned and left the room.

STONE SMILED. How innocent the girl looked. Oh, the wiles of wicked women. This one seemed so soft, so frightened, yet beneath the facade lay Eve’s original sin. Motherhood and age didn’t change them,

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either. It only made them more bold, more crafty. Caleb’s fist clenched. Nostrils flaring, he faced Sarah. “You were on the train from Kansas City with Ruby?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He came closer, raised his good right hand and slid it around her neck. “Rutledge saw you, so there’s no need to deny it.” Frozen in fright, Sarah stared into his eyes. “What I want to know is where she’s bound.” When Sarah made no reply, he tightened his grip. Her breasts were heaving beneath her dress and shawl. Caleb could picture their rounded fullness filling his hands. Pushing her ahead of him he backed her toward the wall until her body was trapped against it. Then he leaned closer, insinuating his thigh between her legs. As he’d expected, she came to life and began to fight him. “Don’t play the innocent with me,” he warned. “I know what you’re about.” Her thrashing was arousing him. Craving satiating, he pressed himself into the soft folds of her skirt, laughing as she renewed her efforts to escape. “Stop it!” “Then tell me what I want to know.”

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“I don’t know anything. I swear. We were just on the same train, that’s all.” “Bound for where?” He ground his hips against her and groaned in pleasure. “Topeka!” Sarah began to flail him with her fists. Her resistance was kindling for the fire raging within him. Pinning her throat to the wall with his left forearm he raised his good hand and slapped her across the mouth. She screamed. He hit her again. His arm came up for a third blow when someone with great strength grabbed his wrist. Caleb jerked away, leaving Sarah collapsed against the wall. “I told you to leave us alone.” “You told me a lot of things,” Brax said. “If you weren’t hurt, I’d...” Eyes blazing anger, fist drawn back to strike, he placed himself between Sarah and her attacker. She was sobbing softly. “The woman knows more than she’s telling,” Stone hissed. “Even if she did, I wouldn’t help you find out, now.” Caleb stood tall. Rutledge was a big man, too, but he wasn’t afraid of him, or anyone. “My wrath is dangerous. You take an awful chance crossing me.” “Did your wife cross you, Judge?” Brax’s eyes narrowed. “My wife was a terrible sinner. That’s not my fault.” Brax reached down and helped Sarah toward the door. Making no move to stop them, Stone watched their progress. He chuckled. “I don’t need either of

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you. You told me Ruby was wearing a red cape and that she reboarded the westbound Santa Fe. All I have to do is check the schedule for that time of day and I’ll know exactly where she was headed.” Brax put one arm around Sarah’s shoulders to steady her. “I’m so sorry.” She dabbed at her bleeding lip. “Now do you believe me?” “I believe the man is corrupt,” he said solemnly. “Will you let me see you home?” Sarah nodded. “Just get me out of here.” Closing the door behind them Caleb felt his urge for a woman still strong. Tonight, he’d start with one of the younger girls before finishing up with Dora. She never had liked it when he treated her roughly, and for the moment, he needed someone to punish. Someone who deserved it.

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Chapter 8 PUEBLO, Colorado was the end of the main Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe line. Intent on substantiating the crime she’d read about in Emma’s journal, Ruby had made up her mind to go south, not north to Denver, which meant she’d have to switch to the narrow-gauge Denver and Rio Grande. Let Stone and his henchmen figure that one out. An immense black engine was being turned at the roundhouse. Pistol shots echoed in the distance. No one in the crowd around her took particular notice so Ruby, too, ignored the ruckus. This was truly the end of the line for both the railroad and for her. Once she departed from her original plan, there was no way Nancy or anyone else back home would know how to contact her. Chagrined, Ruby forced thoughts of Kansas out of her mind. From now on, home was wherever she and Moses were. She gazed tenderly at him. His cheeks seemed to be filling out, his blue eyes focusing more. He was seeing her. Recognizing her. One day, she’d have the joy of hearing him speak her name. Not knowing when the next train was due to leave for New Mexico, she entered the depot. It was crowded and uncommonly warm. The closer the train had gotten to the snowy-peaked Rockies, the colder the outdoor temperatures had become, so the contrast of the warm depot was striking.

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Moses began to complain and kick at his blankets as Ruby waited in line. By the time she reached the counter, the baby was really upset. “I’m sorry,” she said, bouncing him in her arms. “He and I have both had a long and tiring trip.” As she spoke the words she realized just how utterly fatigued she was. It was hard to remember the last time she’d eaten or even had a drink of cool water. The ticket agent, a balding, fatherly-looking man in his forties, pushed up the black elastic bands holding his shirt sleeves. He nodded. “Where you bound?” “I was going to Denver, but now I want to go south.” He raised one eyebrow. “End of the line is either Fort Garland or El Moro, dependin’ on which spur you take.” He pointed to a large map on the wall behind him. “A few more months and we’ll have a line clear through Raton Pass if you ain’t in no hurry.” “I’m afraid I am,” Ruby said. “Which would be the closest to Lincoln?” “El Moro,” he replied, taking her old ticket and exchanging it for a new one. “Here you are, Missus. We’ve had a bit of trouble at the roundhouse—some of the Denver boys got a little carried away—but I ‘spect the train’ll run again soon. Ticket’s good any time. Try tomorrow mornin’.” “Thank you.” Ruby folded the ticket and slipped it into her bag. “You’ll have to take a coach from El Moro or join up with one of the freight wagons.” He eyed

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Moses. “Little one like that, it’ll be tough on him. It’s powerful cold up top the pass.” Sighing, she nodded. Perspiration was beginning to dot her forehead. The depot was stifling. Ruby wiped at the dark ringlets on her forehead. Her hand came away wet. Trembling. Maybe she should stop in Pueblo a bit. Rest up. As long as she stayed out of sight, she and Moses should be safe enough. The sun seemed overly bright as Ruby started down the walk. Brilliant beams reflected off the glistening windows and brightly painted facades that lined both sides of the wide, muddy street. The activity was like any other busy railroad town. Passing horsemen and wagons paid no attention to her, nor did passers-by on the walkway. She stumbled. The boards beneath her feet seemed to be buckling, pitching like a small boat on the Kaw during the spring floods. Sit down, Ruby told herself. And put Moses down so he’ll be safe. The closest building had a split-log loafing bench outside the door. Staggering, she dropped her bag and sat down heavily, placing Moses beside her. Her eyelids were leaden. Voices in the background sounded distant, clouded. Words formed in her mind, yet she found she couldn’t will herself to speak them. “Poor thing,” a woman’s voice said. “I thought I ought a come and get you, Miss Gladys. Didn’t know what else to do. Folks was passin’ her by.”

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“You did right, Amos.” Ruby tried to open her eyes. She liked the sound of the people’s voices. There was kindness in them. She wanted to apologize for causing concern. The woman spoke again. “Help me get her inside.” He laughed. “The baby, too, I suppose.” “Of course, the baby. Tillie’s missin’ her own, as you well know, you old rascal. She can feed the poor little thing till his mama’s better. That’s just good Christian charity. ‘Sides, it’ll help Tillie dry out slow like.” “I don’t know,” Amos said. “The lady’s liable to be mad at you for takin’ her in.” “Should I leave her here? Come on, lend a hand.” Ruby felt herself being lifted, half-carried. Whoever her benefactors were, they planned to take good care of Moses. That was all that mattered. Fatigued beyond reason, she gave in to her body’s insistence that it could not go on. Merciful blackness enveloped her.

BRAX HAD gotten off the west-bound train at every scheduled stop along the way since leaving Topeka. He had to try each town in the off-chance Ruby had gone to ground. In Newton, while the train added cars

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from Wichita, he decided to take advantage of the extra few minutes. Ask around town. He was halfway to the saloon when he spotted Ruby’s red cloak. Moving quickly he overtook its wearer, laid one hand on her shoulder, and turned her around. The gaunt old woman let out a squeal that would have done a scalded hog proud. Brax jumped back. “Sorry. I thought you were someone else.” He stepped away with his hands held out in supplication. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” “You gave me a fright, that’s a fact,” she said, her hands clasped to her breast. He tipped his hat, smiled at her. No, she definitely did not look like Ruby McKay. Chances were, she’d never been close, even as a young woman. “It was your coat,” he said. “A friend of mine had one just like it.” The veiled look that dropped over the woman’s eyes told him all he needed to know. The cape was Ruby’s. “So?” Brax put on his most crestfallen countenance. It had been years since he’d had to use such a pretense but it had always swung his mother and maiden aunt around to his way of thinking. Looking at the thin, hard-edged woman in the cape, he hoped the affectation would work half as well on her. “My dear friend is in mortal danger,” he said. “I came to warn her, but can’t find her.” “Danger? What makes you think so?”

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“There’s an evil man after her,” Brax whispered. “I’m the only chance she has.” The woman was thoughtful. “I got this cape over at Cosgrove’s store,” she said, gesturing. “If you want, I’ll take you over and introduce you to Mrs. Cosgrove. She might be able to help you.” “Much obliged.” Hurrying ahead, he politely opened the door for her. She swept through, twirled the red cloak off her shoulders and stepped behind the counter. Puzzled, Brax waited. “Well, young man? State your case.” “But you said...” Brax stared as the woman pulled an old Colt pistol from beneath the counter and pointed it at his chest. “I said you’d meet Mrs. Cosgrove. You just did. I don’t know who you are or where you come from, but you got two seconds to make me believe you’re Ruby’s friend. After that, I aim to blow your head off.” “Can’t tell it all in two seconds,” Brax argued, raising his hands so the woman wouldn’t think he was going to draw his own revolver. “Matter of fact, the whole damned mess is so confusing I don’t know that I could tell it to your liking at all.” “Try. And watch your language.” “Yes, ma’am. She’s runnin’ from a man called Stone.” He could see that Mrs. Cosgrove was getting too interested to stop him by pulling the trigger. At least he hoped she was. “This Stone killed her sister.

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The baby’s all she’s got left in the world.” “I know that. Tell me somethin’ I don’t know.” “Stone was in Topeka. I saw him there. He beat up a girl who helped Ruby escape. It was then I swore I’d try to warn her how close he was getting.” She squinted at him. “How do I know you’re not this Stone?” “Do I look like a judge?” “A judge?” Mrs. Cosgrove lowered the pistol. “Stone is a judge?” Brax nodded, this time genuinely chagrined. “He is. And a powerful, rich man to boot.” Pausing, he let Mrs. Cosgrove think about what she had just learned before he added, “So you can see, Miss McKay needs all the friends she can muster.” “That, she does.” The woman shrugged her bony shoulders. “If there’s anything I can’t abide, it’s a man what hides his rotten doin’s behind the law. If you’re lyin’, son, it’s the best yarn I ever heard. Come over here.” Brax complied. She had reached beneath the counter to put away the Colt and come up with a tattered old map. He watched as she spread it out on the counter. One bony finger pointed, first to Newton, then along a line to Pueblo. “She’s gone this far, I’m certain. Asked for a map the night she was here. I lent her this one.”

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Peering at the old map, Brax quickly scanned the route. There was nothing new about stopping at Pueblo. All the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe trains did. He sighed. “Afraid that’s not much help.” “Just hold your horses, mister. I ain’t done.” She leaned closer. “See this?” In the southern part of central New Mexico Territory there was a small dot beside the name, Lincoln. “So?” The woman laughed. “Ha! But I remember, see? She asked me about the place. Did I know anyone there? Was it far? Was there decent law there?” “You think that’s where she’s bound?” “Good chance.” Mrs. Cosgrove refolded the map. Brax was jubilant. “If you weren’t a married lady, I’d kiss you!” “If I wasn’t a married lady,” she said, equally elated, “I’d let you, you rascal. Now, git.”

CALEB STONE sent a wire to John Ellis, a detective he’d hired in Wyandotte, then returned home to Kansas City on the next available train. His injured hand had been hurting too much to suit him. If it was infected, as he suspected, he’d need professional medical attention.

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Catching a ride with Dan Tollefsen, he returned to his empty house for the first time since Emma’s wake. Sun had melted the defiled snow where he’d fallen, wounded. He strode past the sullied place and into the house. Memories seemed to float on the air, the sound of Emma’s lilting voice echoing through the rooms as if she might enter at any moment. Her embroidery lay in a hoop beside her chair. All her belongings remained in the bedroom. He’d keep those for a while, he decided. There was no hurry in giving them away. He looked down at his throbbing hand. Right now, he needed fresh bandages. He started to unwrap his hand. Searing, throbbing pain shot up his arm. He cried out. A frightened voice came from behind him. “Judge Stone? What is it? What’s wrong?” Mustering his composure, he looked around. It was Parkerson and Nancy’s eldest daughter, Nellie. “What are you doing here?” “Pa sent me over to clean up the house for you. He thought you were in Topeka.” “I was.” Breathing hard, Caleb fought against acknowledging his physical distress in front of the girl. “I heard you holler.” She tried to peek past him. He covered his hand with a remnant of the muslin bandage. “This is not for you to see.” “I didn’t mean...”

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“I know you meant no harm. Where’s your father?” “At the bank, I suspect.” “And your mother?” “At home with the little ones.” “Then go,” Caleb said. “It’s not proper for you to be here alone with me.” “I’m not afraid.” Nellie crossed the room, closing the distance between them. “I so admire you when you talk to Father. This is not so different from that, is it?” In spite of his throbbing hand, Caleb smiled. “You’re moved when I speak?” She clasped her hands together and held them in front of her. “Oh, yes! You’re magnificent.” “Thank you, child.” Nellie seated herself at the table beside him. “Let me bathe your wound for you?” “No.” Caleb started to pull away. “Just leave me. I can take care of it.” “Surely, it would be better to let someone help you.” She reached for his left wrist, her fingers closing around it gently. “Please?” The touch of her delicate hands was sending shivers up his arm along the same path as the pain, only these pulses were permeating his whole body. So, it had come to this with Nellie, too, had it? Well, he wasn’t surprised. He should have noticed that the Hocker girl was grown to fullness.

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“You ought to go,” he warned. Already desire had crept into his voice. He could hear it. Feel it. And he was certain she felt it, too. “If you order me away, I’ll go,” she said softly. “And if not?” Breathlessly, he waited for her answer. “If not, I’ll stay and minister to you.” Caleb closed his eyes. It was too late to recapture the innocence she’d once had. A woman’s hands were caressing his wrist, a woman’s voice tempted him, a woman’s body waited for the cleansing chastisement he could provide. He opened his eyes and looked directly into hers. She met his gaze unflinchingly, without the least bashfulness. Truly, the devil had taken her to his breast. “Will you not be missed at home?” “I’m not due till supper,” Nellie whispered. Covering her hands with his good one, he said, “Then stay.”

BRAX’S TRAIN arrived in Pueblo late in the evening. A cold wind was blowing in off the mountains, bringing with it the threat of snow. As soon as he’d claimed his horse from the rear car he headed into town.

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It felt good to be astride a horse again. Too much walking was hard on a man who’d lived in the saddle most of his life. Later, he’d find a livery stable and bed the animal down proper. First, he wanted be familiarize himself with the town. If Ruby was here, or had been, someone must have seen her. Determined to make a night of it if necessary, he dismounted in front of the Eagle Claw saloon. The place wasn’t as crowded as he’d expected. He looked around. It was good to see a few Mexicans again. They were noticeably lacking in Kansas City. “Evenin’.” The bartender wiped imaginary specks from the space in front of his new customer. “Evenin’.” Brax touched the brim of his hat, greeting the rotund, balding man. “Three-star Hennessey if you’ve got it.” The bartender turned, filled a glass and set it in front of Brax. Smiling, he pointed to plates and bowls sitting on the bar. “There’s food down to the end if you’re hungry. The pickled eggs is good. My wife makes ‘em.” “Thanks.” Brax downed his drink in two swallows and helped himself to an egg. They were good. Chewing, he leaned back against the bar and surveyed his companions. Most of them were engrossed in small card games, mostly five-card draw. A proper, school-teaching lady like Ruby McKay would never enter a place like the Eagle Claw. He was wasting his time. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to ask. Hailing the bartender he put the question to him.

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“Don’t know that I can help you. Leastwise not much. When was she due?” “Probably yesterday or the day before.” “Ah.” He grinned. “There’s where you’re in luck. Some of the Denver & Rio Grande boys got into a fight with the Santa Fe crowd over which outfit owned the roundhouse. There ain’t been no trains outta here since then. Not goin’ south, like you said.” He paused. “If she’s a proper lady and she don’t like hotels, she’s probably stayin’ over at the Methodist parsonage. They take in travelers sometimes.” “I’ll check. Thanks.” Taking his leave, Brax went back out into the street. Delay of all southbound trains was a miracle, providing Miss McKay hadn’t gotten a ride to New Mexico some other way. That was the course he would have followed, in her place, but then he wasn’t traveling with a baby. His heart tightened. She must be so frightened, so road-weary by now. He’d never understood how women managed to do all they did while balancing a baby on one hip the way his wife had. Lord, she’d been a good woman. Brax shrugged, started for his horse, then changed his mind. As long as he was afoot he might as well ask after Miss McKay in the dance hall next door before he checked the parsonage. Women seemed to notice babies the same way a man noticed a pretty face. Maybe one of the working girls had seen her walk by when she’d arrived in Pueblo.

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Loud, lively music was coming from the hall. Before Brax could step inside, a giggling young woman with pink ostrich feathers and ribbons in her dark hair grabbed him by the hand and dragged him through the door. “They call me Pearl,” she said, cozying up to Brax’s side with a wiggle. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Brax Rutledge.” Tipping his hat he smiled down at her. “You’re a fidgety one, aren’t you?” “The other girls call me Nervous Pearl.” She giggled again and started to point. “That yellow-haired one over there with the three fellas from the commission house is Big Nose May. The one in red with all the feathers, like me, is Lonesome Flora. That there’s Mama Gladys. She’d pointed last toward a hefty woman in a dark green satin gown that had obviously been made for a much less ample figure. Gladys filled it and then some. Brax chuckled. Pearl appealed to him in a funny sort of way. The cozying-up she’d been doing against his side reminded him it had been too damn long since he’d been with a woman. Many a time he’d been sorely tempted. But he’d never broken his marriage vows. Not even after his wife had died. He’d felt unfaithful to her memory if he so much as looked at another woman in a lustful way. He huffed. After so long, he wondered if he still remembered how. The thought made him laugh. Given the chance, he could probably muddle through in a respectable

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amount of time. He’d never been one to dally, except with his wife. That was different. They’d shared love as well as a bed. Pearl took his arm possessively. “Dance?” “What did you have in mind?” She giggled and lowered her lashes demurely. “Whatever you want.” Hesitating, Brax looked around him. “I need to ask all the girls some questions first. Will you help me?” “Of course, Darlin’. Only first I’ll show you my room. You’ll like it. I got it fixed up real pretty.” She took his arm and led him off. “I’m looking for my sister,” Brax lied. “She’s run away.” “We got no new girls,” Pearl said quickly, decisively. Brax slowed his pace and looked down at her. The smile was still on her face but her cheeks seemed redder. When she averted her eyes, he grew more concerned. Pearl’s denial was the first serious thing she’d said since he’d met her. “Do you have any girls here that I haven’t seen?” he asked. “Just Crazy Tillie.” They’d entered a narrow hall. “Her room’s down at the end. You wouldn’t like her. She’s sick.”

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“Oh.” Most of the doors were closed. Those that weren’t revealed tiny rooms with one window and little furniture except the bed. He’d spend a few minutes with Pearl. If she didn’t loosen up enough to answer his questions, he’d investigate on his own. Pearl’s room was like the others. She ushered Brax in and took his hat. “You can hang your clothes on the chair.” “Thanks.” Taking off his coat he hung it as she’d directed, then hesitated, not sure he wanted to proceed. Oh, the girl was comely enough. It just didn’t seem right. Closing his eyes he took a deep breath. Would there never be a time when the past didn’t rule his heart? “I know you’re worried about your sister,” Pearl said. “You just need to forget about her for a little while. I’m the gal who can make you do it.” Snorting a chuckle, Brax watched her sashaying approach. “Oh, you are, are you?” “I am.” Her fingers slipped up his chest and over his shoulders as she raised herself to kiss him. Brax sighed. The girl did have a way about her. A sensitive, hungry touch that was beginning to inflame him in spite of his usual reservations. Placing his hands at her waist he noticed how small it was, how delicate...like his wife’s before she’d had the boy. He’d done that to her. Had he known what the final outcome would be, he’d gladly have spilled his seed on the ground rather than cause her such agony.

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He brought his mouth down hard on the whore’s lips, seeking to drive out the demons that haunted him. The music in the dance hall faded. Blessed quiet surrounded them. For a few moments, Brax was able to imagine he had his darling Annie back in his arms. Pearl was moaning softly. Engrossed in her sensuality, Brax listened. Suddenly, he tensed. Pulled away. She clung to him, murmuring love words. “Hush!” “Why? Don’t you like me?” “I said, hush.” He placed his hand over her mouth to ensure her quiet. In the distance, a baby was crying!

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Chapter 9 THE woman asleep in the whore’s narrow bed had the angelic look of Ruby McKay, all right. Except her hair was too dark and she was deathly pale. Still, Brax recognized her. She was breathing deeply, rhythmically. That put his mind at ease. Seated beside the bed, nursing the baby, was a wild-eyed, disheveled young girl who seemed not at all embarrassed for him to see her with her blue-veined, swollen breasts exposed. While the baby suckled one nipple, the other dripped milk in a steady flow. He’d entered the room with Pearl in tow and kept hold of her wrist. “I thought you said there were no new girls here.” “She’s not one of us,” Pearl insisted. “You can see that.” Brax had only a moment in which to decide what course to take. He directed his attention to the wetnurse. “I thank you for taking such good care of my sister, Ruby, Miss...” “That’s Crazy Tillie,” Pearl said. “She don’t talk much. Not since her own young ‘un died.” Disease? Brax’s heart raced. “Was it sick?” “Born sickly. Never thrived. And you can plainly see, Tillie’s a good mother.”

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“Yes.” Taking Pearl back out into the hall and closing the door, he forced a smile. “Naturally, I’ll pay for my sister’s room and board. Tillie will be paid, too, as long as the baby needs her.” “Sure, mister. I’ll tell Gladys.” “And I’ll be staying. At least until Ruby is well enough to travel.” “You want to bunk with me?” Pearl’s grin was hopeful. “That’s a temptin’ offer,” Brax said, “but I should be handy to look after my kin.” “Well, I don’t know...” “We’re very close,” he lied. “She brought me through a terrible case of cholera in ‘76. I owe her. You can understand that, can’t you?” “I guess so.” “Good girl. Now, is there a separate room where Tillie can care for the baby? I wouldn’t want his cryin’ to disturb my poor, tired sister.” “Tillie’s got a room of her own. I ‘spose she could take the baby in.” “Good. I’ll go downstairs and settle up with Gladys.” He paused, placing one finger across Pearl’s lips. “You mustn’t tell anyone else Ruby and I are here. Understand?” He sealed their pact with a ten dollar gold piece. She took it gladly. “Sure, mister. I ain’t seen nothin’.”

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“Good girl. I’m going to go stable my horse. Shouldn’t take long. Think you can get Tillie and the baby settled and stay with my sister till I get back?” Pearl giggled. “It’ll be the easiest ten dollars I ever earned.” She rubbed against Brax’s thigh. “Sure you don’t want to romp a bit first?” “Not tonight.” He glanced toward the closed door behind which Ruby slept. “Tonight, I have penance to do.” “Say, you ain’t one of them missionaries, are you? We lost two girls to travelin’ missionaries at Christmas time. Gladys was so mad she had ‘em run out of town.” Brax chuckled. “I’m no missionary, Miss Pearl. I’m just an ole cow man from Texas.” He purposely let his drawl thicken. It had been a long time since he’d left Ohio and truth to tell, Texas did color his speech. Especially when it was advantageous. “And I’ll bet the trail was lonely, wasn’t it?” “The trail is always lonely.” Brax pulled away from her. “Now, go look after my sister. And if she wakes, don’t tell her I’m here.” “You want to surprise her, I’ll wager.” “She’ll be surprised, all right.” Leaving Pearl standing in the hall he made his way back to her room for his hat and coat, donned them

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and hurried downstairs. Oh, yes, Ruby McKay would be surprised to see him. He’d be lucky if she didn’t screech her head off when she awoke and found him in her room. Well, that was a chance he’d have to take. He drew his hand over his beard. As soon as he got back from the stables, he’d ask for a razor and clean up a bit. No use scaring the poor girl worse than he already had. Brax explained his plans to Mama Gladys, slipped her a double-eagle and left the bawdy house, mulling over his actions. Suppose Ruby had lied to Sarah? It was a fact she’d taken the Stone baby. What if she’d actually committed the murder of which she was accused? He shrugged and mounted his horse. That wasn’t his affair. All he had to do was make sure she reached the safety of the law and let an honest judge sort out her crimes. At least that way she’d be protected from Caleb Stone’s private brand of justice. Brax’s jaw clenched. A cold chill shook him. He turned up the collar of his coat against the wind. Stone was dangerous, unpredictable. The woman would have to be turned over to a lawman who could be trusted. He spurred his horse to a trot. The only person he knew like that was a Federal Marshall by the name of Bolen, hundreds of miles south of Pueblo. How in the hell was he going to convince Ruby McKay to willingly travel all that way with him?

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NANCY Hocker paced the floor near the front of Rias Wills’s book store and waited for him to finish with the customers he was serving. By bowing her head and peeking demurely past the brim of her bonnet, she was able to watch without causing undue notice. Her heart fluttered. The child inside her grew restless. Laying her hand gently on the swell of her abdomen she was reminded that she was no flighty girl. She was Parkerson Hocker’s wife. The mother of his children. She didn’t belong in Rias’s store any more than she belonged across the river in Kansas City, Missouri. Not anymore. Her mind willed her toward the door but her heart refused to be swayed. It had taken her nearly a week to convince herself to make the trip while Parkerson was out of town with Caleb Stone. She’d come this far. She would stay and speak to Rias. Slowly, a small book held open in one gloved hand, she waited. He was older, of course. They both were. Yet much remained the same. His sandy hair had grayed at the temples but the softness remained in his expression, in his blue eyes. Tears clouded her vision. If ever she had doubted her feelings, she now knew the truth. She was still hopelessly in love with Rias Wills. She saw him hand a brown-paper-wrapped package to his young customer, smile, then lift his gaze to greet her. Nancy tried to smile. She clutched the book to her breast, her hands trembling. “Hello, Rias.”

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“I don’t believe it!” He strode toward her. Nancy waited, unmoving, afraid that if she tried to take a step she would collapse. When he paused a few feet away she extended her gloved hand. As he clasped it, she drew on his strength. He led her to a cane-seated chair beside the cash box, then brought a second chair from an alcove in the rear and seated himself next to her. He reclaimed her hand. “You’re as lovely as ever. Have you been well?” Nodding, she absently drew her free hand to her abdomen. “As well as can be expected.” Rias straightened in his chair, releasing her. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to ask such an impertinent question. I meant nothing by it.” “Didn’t you?” Nancy was too worried to put up any pretense. All of Kansas had apparently sided with Caleb Stone and Parkerson Hocker. Even her own daughter, Nellie, had turned against her. She desperately needed a friend, both for advice and solace. That deep need had driven her to seek out Rias Wills. “Of course not.” Rising, he paced away from her. He thrust his hands into his pockets. “So, what brings you across the river? Certainly, they have adequate book stores in Kansas.” Nancy’s hands fluttered in her lap. She knit her fingers together to still them. “What I don’t have in Kansas, dear heart, is a friend I can trust.”

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“Dear heart?” he muttered, astounded. “Mrs. Hocker, I hardly know what to say.” She arose and went to him. “Once, long ago, you told me that if I ever needed you, all I had to do was ask.” “Yes.” The softness in his tone and the concern in his eyes told Nancy the whole truth. Although years had passed, Rias still cared for her. Perhaps, she mused, he was the only man who ever truly had. “I need to talk to you—alone,” she said. His hands clasped hers tightly. “You know it’s not proper for us to be alone.” “It wasn’t proper for me to come to you, either,” she countered, “but I have. Please don’t turn me away.” “Never,” Rias whispered. Going quickly to the door he locked it and placed the “Closed” placard in the window. “I have quarters upstairs,” he said, returning to where Nancy waited. “Shall we talk there?” She nodded, her eyes downcast. Oh, how she yearned to feel his arms about her. And she, a married lady! The thoughts in her heart were sinful, of that she was certain. They must never be acted upon. Still, the Lord had gifted her with the rare friendship and support of a good man and she was oh, so thankful.

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Taking his arm, she held firm. “Some terrible things have been happening in Kansas,” she said as they started up the stairs. “I’m afraid.” His hand closed over hers. The fondness evident in his expression gave her hope and strength. Rias gazed down at her. “Where is your husband?” “He’s seeing a friend—of his—safely to a hospital in Chicago.” They’d reached the second story. Rias held the door open for her to pass. “You’ll be safe here, Mrs. Hocker. There’s no need to be afraid of anything.” “Must you call me that?” she asked, her voice tremulous. “Yes. I’m afraid if I don’t, I may be tempted to forget you’re another man’s wife.” The concept sent shivers up her spine. She walked slowly to the center of the cozy room and turned to face him. “My father banished you somehow, didn’t he? That was why you refused to see me again. Why you left town so abruptly.” “It was a long time ago. I did what I thought was right.” “And I tried to obey my father and mother when they told me to forget you.” “We were very young.” “And now we’re older.” She removed her gloves and slipped them into her reticule, then began unbuttoning her coat. “Are we wiser?”

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“I hope so.” Nancy’s heart was beating so rapidly she was certain its pounding could be seen through the fabric of her bodice. “Rias, I...” Light-headed, she held out her hands to him as the room began to spin. Flashes of brightly colored lights exploded behind her closing eyelids. The journey had been hard, her conscience a constant trial, and the babe she carried had drawn on the last of her strength. Exhausted, she began to crumple toward the floor, sliding into an escape from the worldly concerns that weighed so heavily on her soul. Strong arms went around her. She felt as if she were floating. Rias held her. Cradled her tenderly. That was all that mattered. They had been silly children when they’d first spoken of love and a future together. They hadn’t begun to plumb the depths of their emotions. And now, it was too late. He carried her to the bed and lowered her onto the counterpane. When her eyelids fluttered open he was kneeling beside her, his worry evident. “Thank God.” “Rias.” Nancy held out her arms to him. Hesitating only a moment, he leaned across to embrace her. She pulled his head to her chest. Tears began to trickle from the corners of her eyes. So much time had passed; so many chances for happiness had been wasted. “Oh, Rias. What have we done?” He stirred. Withdrew. Brushing his lips lightly across her cheek he studied her features with undeniable affection. “We’ve lived different lives than we might have, but what’s done is done.” He gently

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stroked the curls off her forehead with one finger. “Are you feeling better, now?” “Yes.” When she tried to sit up he stopped her. “Lie there. Rest. I’ll make us some tea and you can tell me what’s bothering you. What brought you here.” She had only one specific request. “Will you call me, Nancy? Please?” Getting to his feet he nodded, blinking back the tears pooling in his melancholy gaze. “Yes...Nancy. If that pleases you.” “It does,” she said softly. “For the first time in weeks, I feel at peace.”

CALEB STONE could hear the doctors talking through the haze the drugs had made of his mind. A fever burned in his pain-wracked body, leaving him weak and ill. He wanted to retch, to scream, to rise and flee. None of that was possible. They’d strapped him down, the devils, and now they poked and probed, stripping him of the last of his dignity. “It’ll have to come off or we’ll lose him,” a disembodied voice said. Caleb heard murmurs of assent. Someone was holding his arm. Their hands were icy on his hot flesh. There was a prick, then a drawing of pressure across his wrist. The fools! That wasn’t where Ruby had

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shot him. They were doing it all wrong. He had to tell them—make them understand their error. “Give him more laudanum,” the voice ordered. “He’s fighting me.” “Strong as an ox, this one.” “He won’t stay that way if we don’t remove his hand.” Caleb opened his mouth to curse, to bellow. He felt the trickle of bitter liquid on his tongue. Someone was pinching his nostrils. He gasped, gagged, and the drug went down. The pressure increased on his wrist until he couldn’t feel his fingers. There was a rasping, a vibration radiating up his arm and into his shoulder. Immobilized, he drifted in and out of consciousness, imagining his spirit could look down on the grisly scene from above. They were cutting off his hand! The bastards were finishing the work Ruby McKay had begun. “Well, that’s that,” the second voice said flatly. “Think he’ll make it?” “Can’t say.” Well, I can say, Caleb thought, still unable to move or make a sound. I can say. And I say I’ll live and then some. You fools are as stupid as the woman who maimed me. My loins are girded with the full armor of the Lord, just like the Good Book says. I have much more to accomplish. I am the Lord’s angel of vengeance. You watch. You’ll see.

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PEARCE WAS restless. He’d been in Denver City for days and still no sign of Ruby or the baby. He’d left his calling card in every hotel and rooming house in the city. If she arrived, he’d be informed. And if she didn’t? He asked himself. What then? Where else could he look? Her trunk sat unclaimed in the depot. Every time he checked and saw it still there, his spirits fell a little more. Miss Ruby was clever but she was up against Caleb Stone. Emma had lost her battle against his malevolence. Why should her older sister fare any better? Gaslights atop tall columns burned along the main streets, lighting his way. Thank heavens his city banker’s clothing was appropriate here. It was a pleasure to see that respectability extended this far west. Even the city’s prostitutes lived like gentry, if the palatial homes on Holliday Street were any indication. A carriage pulled up beside him as he was about to enter the Fountain House Hotel for dinner. “Pearce Hocker?” a man called out. Pearce wheeled. “Yes?” “Get in.” The door of the carriage swung open. “Do you have news of Miss McKay?” “Get in.” A hand grabbed him, dragged him through the opening. He landed on the floorboards. Two men

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besides the driver occupied the carriage. “Now see here...” “Shut up.” One of the men backhanded him in the mouth. He felt the blood, warm on his cold cheek. “What do you think you’re doing?” “Our jobs,” the swarthy spokesman said. He and the other man dragged Pearce up onto the seat as the carriage started to move. “I have very little money,” Pearce said. “You won’t get much if you intend to rob me.” Both men laughed. “Then why have you accosted me?” “You’ve been askin’ around town for a certain young lady.” “Ruby McKay? Have you seen her? Is she all right?” The swarthy man cuffed him again. “Shut up, I said. We’ll ask the questions.” Cringing back from the stinging blow, Pearce held his handkerchief to his mouth while they plied him with queries about Ruby and the baby. The carriage proceeded along the wide avenues and past the elaborate buildings lining Blake and Larimer Streets. Finally, it left the district Pearce was most familiar with, headed down Wazee Street, and drew to a halt at the Silver King Hotel.

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He was helped to the ground none too gently. Both men seemed disappointed that he’d been unable to answer their questions. Pearce wished it were courage that had sealed his lips rather than ignorance. It seemed that no one knew where Ruby had disappeared to. His only consolation was hearing that she’d eluded everyone. The men, one on each side, hoisted him on wobbly legs and half carried him up an outside stairway to a room occupied by a third person. The man was short, sported a thin mustache, and was impeccably tailored. Surprised, Pearce shook off the two ruffians and faced the third. From the look of chagrin on the man’s rounded face, Pearce deduced that his abductors had not been instructed to beat him. He wished they’d followed orders. His lip felt like it was already swelled to twice its normal size. “Fools!” the occupant of the room shouted. “We need his cooperation.” He gestured wildly and pointed to the door. “Get out. Leave us.” The man spread his hands wide and arched his eyebrows as soon as they were alone. “Please, forgive me for what’s happened, Mr. Hocker.” “How do you know who I am?” “We have ways.” The man extended his hand.” “I’m John Ellis.” Dabbing at his split lip with the bloody handkerchief, Pearce ignored the hand.

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“Quite right,” Ellis said. “Let me get you a drink.” “I don’t want a drink.” “An explanation, then?” Pearce nodded. “I’m a detective, Mr. Hocker.” Bile rose in Pearce’s throat. The only person he knew who would hire a detective to search for Ruby was Caleb Stone. Stiffening, he began to edge toward the door. “Please. Don’t think of running away. My men are right outside the door.” “I don’t know a thing. I can’t help you.” “I’d gathered as much when I saw what my men had done to your face. You’re very young, aren’t you?” “I’m nearly twenty.” “And what is your connection with Miss McKay?” Pearce shot him an icy look. “You tell me.” “Very well.” He gestured toward two chairs in the corner of the room. “Sit down. Please?” “I’ll stand.” Ellis laughed quietly. “A young bull, are you? Well, I plan to sit down. It’s been a very long day.”

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Crossing to the chairs he’d indicated, the detective sank into one of them and propped his feet on a stool. Waiting, he breathed deeply and sighed. When Pearce held his ground, the man began to speak so softly he had to approach in order to hear. “...so you see, I’m a professional, Mr. Hocker. Formerly with the Pinkerton Agency. And as such, I have a personal code of ethics.” Once again, he gestured toward the empty chair and waited. Pearce cautiously sat down. “Go on.” Ellis made a steeple of his thin fingers and rested his hands on his vest. His mustache twitched. “I want you to tell me about Miss McKay.” “When hell freezes over.” “No, no. You misunderstand. I’m not asking for current information. I want to hear your version, her version, of what happened in Kansas.” Leaning back, Pearce eyed him suspiciously. “Why? What difference will it make?” “Maybe none, son,” Ellis said, raising his eyebrows, “but I should very much like to know, anyway.”

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Chapter 10 BRAX sat quietly watching over Ruby. He’d had Pearl and Tillie dress the girl in night clothes and put her to bed. Fortunately, she’d not roused herself enough to make any protest and was now sleeping soundly again. Judging by her lack of a fever and returning color, she was simply exhausted, not ill. For that, he was most grateful. He wrung out a cloth over a basin and stroked the damp rag gently across her forehead. She stirred, then nestled deeper into the bed. He’d had to pay extra for clean sheets but he’d insisted. She looked so angelic, so at peace lying there, his heart couldn’t help but be gladdened. And when she wakes? he asked himself. What then? Damned if he knew. He ran his hand over his recently shaved cheeks. It felt funny to be minus his beard and mustache but he’d figured the shock to Ruby would be lessened if she didn’t open her eyes to find a “Grizzly”, as Dora had called him, leaning over her. He hadn’t been clean-shaven in years. Not since his family had disintegrated. A knock at the door startled him. One quick glance at Ruby told him she hadn’t been disturbed. Rising, he went to answer the knock before further rapping awakened her. It was Pearl, bearing a tray. Brax nodded, his finger to his lips.

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Whispering, she tried to peer past his shoulder into the room. “Is she awake yet?” “No.” He blocked her view. “Well, Gladys says she should eat. And so should you. She sent me up with this. It’s broth and stew, biscuits and hot coffee.” Brax took the tray. “Thanks.” “Want some company? We could talk while you eat.” “Thank you, no,” Brax said. “But I’ll see my sister drinks the broth as soon as she’s able.” Stepping back inside, he closed the door. Gladys was right. Most of Ruby’s weakness was undoubtedly due to her hurried flight from Kansas and subsequent neglect of herself. A person could only go so long before succumbing to the effects of deprivation. He ought to know. After Annie had died and the Springfield clan had badgered him into relinquishing his son for the boy’s own good, he’d gone on a months-long bender. In the end, he’d collapsed in a sodden heap in a watering trough. He would have drowned in his own stupidity if a couple of Uncle John Chisum’s boys hadn’t fished him out, dried him off, and hauled him home with them. Brax chuckled and took a bite of one of the biscuits. Funny how things had worked out. Joining up with Uncle John and Pitzer to trail cows up to the railheads was the best move he’d made in all his years of ranching. The men were true friends. What more could anyone ask?

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He moved aside the basin of water and set the tray next to the bed. Damn, the food smelled good. Finishing his biscuit he took a sip of coffee. The stew was in a big white bowl, covered with a cloth. He’d start on that just as soon as he’d gotten some broth down Ruby. Blowing on a spoonful of the liquid to cool it, he slid one arm beneath her head, lifted her, and touched the edge of the spoon to her mouth. Her parched lips parted, her eyelids fluttered. She swallowed. Brax’s face was so close to hers he could feel the brush of her breath on his cheek. Dipping out a second spoonful he offered it. “There’s a good girl. Drink it down.” Ruby mumbled, her eyes opening. She seemed unable to focus. Putting down the spoon, Brax waited. She was looking straight up at him, her brow furrowed, her gaze intense. “You’re all right,” he said calmly. “And so is the baby. He’s safe right in the next room.” “Where...who?” Her muscles tensed. “I’m a friend,” Brax told her. She put her hand to her forehead. “The last thing I remember is getting off the train.” “We guessed you hadn’t eaten in a long time.” “I haven’t.” She licked her dry lips. “Where did you say Moses is?” He nodded toward the west wall. “In there. A woman is caring for him.”

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“Praise God.” For the first time she seemed to notice that Brax still cradled her. He waited while she studied his face, then saw a flash of recognition. Her blue eyes widened in terror. Brax smiled. “Don’t be afraid. I won’t harm you.” It was plain from her violent reaction that she didn’t believe him. She tried to hit him with her fists. He grabbed her wrists, pinned them to the pillow. The way she thrashed and kicked, he wondered if he was going to be able to keep his promise and control her without hurting her. Ruby’s lips parted. She inhaled sharply. Brax knew what was coming. He couldn’t let her scream. If the girls upstairs heard the commotion and came running, his ruse would be exposed. Then, who would look after Ruby? Protect her? “Don’t!” His insistent tone of voice seemed to make her struggle harder. The best thing to do would be to clamp his hand over her mouth, he reasoned, except that if he let go of her arms she’d beat him silly. Probably wiggle loose to cause more mayhem. There was no time to shift position. A wail began deep in her throat. Frustrated, Brax did the only thing he could. He covered her mouth with his own and drank in the reverberating sound of her terror. * * *

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A SLING held Caleb Stone’s left arm, a massive bandage padding the end where his hand had once been. Ignoring Parkerson Hocker’s droning tales of his personal adventures in Chicago, Caleb withdrew inside himself. To be honest, the pain was less now than it had been when his hand had remained. He stared at the bandages. In his mind, he was moving his fingers, wiggling them as always, balling them into a fist. The sensation was so clear, so true to life, he had to blink to be certain of what was reality and what wasn’t. “If thy hand offend thee...,” he muttered. Parkerson paused in his description of the five-story brick sporting house where he had sampled his first Negress. “Beg pardon?” “I was just remembering,” Caleb said. He lay his head against the high back of the rocker and slowly pushed with his feet. The chair had been Emma’s favorite for sewing. “You’re sure you’re all right?” “I’m sure. I’d rather be alone for a while.” The banker nodded. “All right. Have it your way. I’ll send my wife over to see to your supper.” Caleb shook his head. “Your Nancy dislikes me. It would be better to spare us both the experience.” “Martha Tollefsen, then?” With a derisive snort, Caleb dissented. “That woman would be the death of me if I wasn’t wounded.”

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Pausing, he regarded Hocker. “Nellie seems quite the capable nurse.” He waited to see if his suggestion would be accepted. “She’s a bit young, don’t you think?” “The child is not squeamish, of that I’m certain. I’ll need help changing the bandages. It would be good to have the tender, sure touch of one so compassionate.” The banker walked to the door, donned his hat and coat. “Nellie has chores to do at home, too. How long would you need her?” Shrugging, Caleb rocked back in the chair. “The doctors said it might be weeks before I had my strength back. I’ll pay her for her trouble, of course.” “The girl has no need of money. Where would she spend it? I provide for all her needs. When she marries, her husband will do the same.” “Quite right. Shall we say fifty dollars a week into your account, since you are her guardian?” The suggestion had a positive effect. Caleb saw capitulation in his companion’s expression. “Let’s not bother the bank. You know I have a running tab at Liz’s. Her blackjack tables try me sorely. You can leave the money for me there, on account, when you’re feeling better.” Caleb laughed. The motion sent waves of pain up his arm and cut short his mirth. “Done. Bring the girl to me as soon as you can. I need comforting.”

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“She’s just a child.” “I know that, my friend. Her purity is a blessing to me.” When Parkerson sighed, Caleb knew he’d won. The infection in his hand had kept him from more than a few innocent caresses and soul-searching looks when last he’d encountered Nellie Hocker. But she was ripe—and willing—of that he was sure. Having her under the same roof would give him plenty of opportunity to instruct her about the evils of a woman’s heart. Rocking for a long time after Parkerson took his leave, Caleb cradled his arm and thought of Nellie. Somehow, in the midst of his dreams, her face and hair color changed. He was picturing himself once again with his arms around dear Emma. Tears were not enough to wash the agonizing vision away.

RUBY FELT as if her lungs would burst. Her strength spent, she had no choice but to temporarily abandon her struggles. To her intense relief, the man lifted his mouth from hers. She stared up at his face, still mere inches away. His gaze seemed to hold genuine concern but that could not be. The assault on her person was proof of his lack of regard. She waited until he appeared to be relaxing, then drew a quick breath and tried once more to scream. Wherever she was, certainly there must be someone who would hear and come to her aid.

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“Damn it!” the man cursed as he brought his lips to hers to stifle the noise once again. Ruby’s heart raced. His actions were unconscionable! She looked into his eyes. The same dark eyes had stared out at her from beneath the brim of the old felt hat on the train to Topeka. And he had her trapped, as surely as if she were locked in a jail cell back in Kansas. Her eyes filled with tears that quickly slid down her temples to dampen her hair. It was all over. She didn’t know how it had come about, but she’d lost the battle for survival. Oh, poor Moses. What would happen to him now? All the fight went out of her. She lay still, silently weeping. The man lessened the pressure. Raising above her, he said, “Please. Don’t cry. I won’t hurt you.” “It’s all over.” Ruby sniffled. “You win.” “I’ve won nothing.” Brax arose and stood looking down at her. “You’ve captured me,” she said, the fire gone from her gaze, her spirit. “Where is Moses? Is he really all right like you said?” Brax nodded. “I’ll get him for you, if you want.” “No. I’ll go to him.” She tried to rise. Nearly swooned. The firm touch of his hand on her shoulder stopped and steadied her. “In a bit. One of the girls here is feeding him.” Ruby saw her traveling bag on a chair by the door and pointed to it. “I have plenty of tinned milk with

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me.” “That won’t be necessary. Tillie’s capable. She had a child of her own recently.” He eased himself away, his movements controlled, cautious. “Oh.” Ruby flushed, embarrassed. “Oh, I see.” She tugged the covers up around her neck. “I suppose that’s best.” “I suppose.” He almost smiled. “I saw Miss Sarah again. She’s fine.” Ruby sat up, pulled the coverlet with her for modesty, and dried her eyes on the edge of it. “You are the man in the depot, aren’t you? I haven’t totally lost my mind?” “Braxton Rutledge, of Texas and parts west. At your service.” He stroked his bare chin. “I shaved.” To see him standing there, suddenly so polite and acting the gentleman, gave her pause. Since she was already his prisoner, she figured she had nothing to lose if she spoke her mind. “That’s an understatement.” Brax pulled the chair closer to the side of the bed and sat down, resting his elbows on his knees. “I didn’t want you to wake up and faint at the sight of me.” Ruby’s fingertips absently brushed her lips. She glared at him in accusation. Indeed! “I’m real sorry I had to do that, Miss McKay. But if you’d screamed, folks here would probably have figured out I wasn’t your brother. I didn’t want to get thrown out.”

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“My brother?” The more the man said, the more daft he sounded. Wasn’t it enough she had one madman on her trail? Had Satan gathered all his demons and set them to thwart her? “A little white lie, ma’am. I had to be here to warn you when you woke up.” She slid back, tight against the pillows, and stared. “Why in the world should I trust you?” “Because I’m the only friend you’ve got in these parts. And considering who’s chasin’ you...” Her nostrils flared. “You know Stone? I thought as much.” “Only met him once, in Topeka,” Brax was quick to say. “That’s enough to last me the rest of my natural life.” “What happened?” She was too excited now to keep silent. Besides, the more she knew about the situation, the greater her future chances of escape. They were a long way from Kansas City, after all. Looking penitent, Brax combed his fingers through his hair. “I made the mistake of introducing him to Miss Kussner.” “No! Not Sarah!” Ruby’s heart fell. It seemed everyone she came into contact with was in danger. Was God really on the side of Caleb Stone? Every instinct in her body argued against such a thought. Brax briefly tried to pat her hand. Ruby drew back. She could still feel the tingle of his lips on hers and she wondered if he, too, was thus affected. “Miss Sarah’s fine,” Brax vowed. “Stone roughed her up a bit but she came through all right.”

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Pausing, he shook his head. “I owe you an apology. No matter what you did, I can understand why you’d run from a man like that.” “What I did?” Ruby’s growing anger helped her tap her remaining strength. “I did nothing wrong, Mr. Rutledge. Stone murdered my sister as surely as if he’d put a gun to her head.” “How so?” “She’d just given birth to Moses. The man beat her. The doctor said her body couldn’t stand the added strain.” Brax’s expression clouded as if a specter of death had crossed his path. The agony in his eyes took Ruby’s breath away. At first, she thought she was imagining his reaction but as she studied him, she knew better. Brax Rutledge had suffered deeply, just as she had. That realization gave her a vague sense of camaraderie. She tentatively touched his arm. “What is it? Are you ill?” “No.” Brax again focused his gaze on her. “Go on. Why did you run away? Surely, you had friends at home who would help you.” “I had more than that,” she said quietly, deciding she had nothing to lose by telling him the whole story. “I had a witness. The doctor who had examined my sister and seen the damage Caleb had done.” “Then why...?”

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“Because Stone killed him. Or had him killed. Either is possible.” Shuddering, she wrapped her arms around herself. “He left the poor doctor’s body in my barn.” “And that’s the murder they say you did? My, God.” “God had nothing to do with it, Mr. Rutledge.” Ruby faced him boldly. “What are your plans for me, now?” “I want to see you well and rested enough to travel,” he said. “There’s a Federal Marshall south of here who can be trusted. I’ll take you to him.” “No! Stone’s a judge. He may as well own the whole government. I’ll never be safe.” “We have no choice,” Brax insisted. “Because of me, Stone knows you’ve come west. He’ll be on your trail.” “And you aim to see to it he finds me, is that it?” “No. I aim to see you safely to the Marshall.” “I hope you’ll understand if I don’t thank you.” Ruby gritted her teeth. “You will, later. Besides, I’m not doing this to gain your thanks. I’m doing it because it’s right.” “How noble.” Snorting a chuckle, Brax half grinned at her. “Glad you noticed. Now, how about some more broth? We have to get your strength back.” Uncovering the bowl of stew, he handed the cup of broth to Ruby and

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picked up a spoon for himself. “This is mine and that enormous bowl of stew is yours?” “Um, that’s what Pearl said. I figured you’d want the broth, you being weak and all.” “I’ll be even weaker if all I eat is broth.” Ruby took the saucer the cup had sat on and began to ladle herself a helping of the beef and gravy. “Not exactly the timid school teacher, are you, ma’am?” Ruby sent him a wry look, one she usually saved for misbehaving pupils. “If I were timid, sir, I would be dead and my nephew would be in the hands of a madman.” She managed to smile at his discomfiture. “Are you going to eat, or just sit there staring at me?” “I’ll leave the whole thing for you.” Replacing the bowl on the tray he rose. “I’m surprised you haven’t ordered me out of your room before this.” “Would you have gone?” “A point well taken,” Brax said. He opened the door. “If you need me, just ask Pearl. Her room is down the hall to the right. I’ll either be there or downstairs.” “What’s the name of this hotel?” “It isn’t a hotel.” “Then what...?”

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He laughed. “This is the kind of place where young ladies entertain gentlemen for money,” he said. “Don’t venture far from this room without me.” Ruby had just taken a mouthful of stew. She tried not to choke. So that was where she’d ended up. Oh, dear Lord. What else could happen to her? Instantly, thoughts of a confrontation with Caleb Stone popped into her head. She banished them as best she could. “I’ll stop and tell Tillie to bring the baby to see you,” Brax said, taking his leave. “Right away. Please.” With a polite nod, he closed the door. As soon as his footsteps faded away, Ruby clambered out of bed. She pressed her ear to the door and listened. All was still. Whatever went on in the other rooms at night, daytime seemed to be blissfully quiet. Grasping the cold, brass knob she twisted it until the door swung free, then peeked into the hall. It was deserted. The bare wooden floor beneath her feet was icy, her gown too thin to chance a foray out of her room without a wrapper. Moreover, she knew from the way her legs were wobbling and her stomach cramping that she was far from ready to resume her flight. The sound of heavy boots clomping up the stairs sent her ducking back out of sight. Latching the door she wrapped herself in a blanket and went to the window. Snow was falling, its feathery lightness drifting against the panes and creating a crystal curtain that blurred the street below. Dark shapes that were

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undoubtedly horsemen and wagons moved by, their calls and the clank of harness clearer than their images. Needles of cold pierced the bottoms of her bare feet. Sighing, she walked wearily back to the bed. Brax Rutledge was right about one thing—she’d sacrificed her strength in her attempt to escape. That was foolish. God had given her opportunities, made a way for her, and she had betrayed His trust by failing to take into account her human frailties. Well, no more. From now on, she would carefully plan out every facet of her daily existence, including providing for her own sustenance. Lifting the cup of broth and holding it tightly with both hands, Ruby sat on the edge of the bed and began to sip. One careless bite of stew had tied her empty abdomen in knots, demonstrating how shortsighted she’d been about caring for her body. But she’d mend, she told herself. She’d be strong again soon. Strong enough to run from Rutledge or anyone else whose plans included Caleb Stone’s brand of justice. What was it the Good Book said? “I will lift up mine eyes onto the hills from whence cometh my help.” There were hills aplenty between Pueblo and her ultimate destination in New Mexico. She’d find help there. Of course, her departure would have to be kept secret from Rutledge. And to do that, she’d have to make friends with the ladies who worked in this place. Ruby’s first reaction was one of nervous revulsion. Then, she began to laugh. There she lay, freezing and half-dead from starvation, wanted for murder, undoubtedly being maligned in every newspaper and

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pulpit from the Missouri to the Rockies, and she was still afraid of ruining her good name! What a joke. If the girls who worked under this roof knew about her past they’d probably toss her out on her ear in order to protect their own reputations!

THE PAINS in Nancy’s lower back came went, each one more annoying than the one before. She’d already known she was not well when Rias had seen her to her buggy, but she’d kept her counsel. To her surprise, he tied a saddle horse on behind, then climbed into the seat beside her without comment and took up the reins. “There’s no need to trouble yourself,” Nancy insisted. “I’m quite capable.” He chuckled. “You always were. Remember how you used to beg me for a chance to drive my father’s team? Then you’d get us going so fast I was sure we’d upset the wagon.” “We nearly did, several times.” “I’ll say. It took me hours to properly mend the spoke we cracked on that picnic to Lemon Grove.” She slipped her gloved hand through the crook of his arm and held tight as another pain began in the small of her back, crept around her waist and tightened like a steel band. Rias went on. “The grove is still there, by the river. The town was pretty much destroyed in the war.

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I’ve only been back once.” “The Tatum boys went west, I heard. Toby married that pretty little Johnson girl. What was her name?” Nancy made conventional conversation to try and take her mind off the pressure in her lower body. The buggy was crossing the Missouri. The bridge was crowded, their progress slow. She prayed earnestly that she’d reach home before the pain worsened. Rest was all she needed, she kept telling herself. Rest and quiet. “I don’t remember her name,” Rias said. “I always thought she was a silly twit.” “Mr. Wills! Shame on you. She was a good Christian girl.” He sighed and clucked to the horse. “Sometimes I wish you had not been such a good girl, Nancy. In retrospect, I think our greatest sin was in not defying our parents. We should have run away and gotten married in spite of them.” Tears gathered in her eyes and she laid her head against his shoulder so he wouldn’t notice. “Perhaps. I prayed for you every day, all through the war.” “Did you? Sometimes, I swear I felt your presence. Your face was always before me, especially in my dreams.” “Oh, Rias.” She held tighter. “Remembering was hard. I always pictured your husband, lurking in the background. By then, you

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had two children.” Nancy’s hand went to her abdomen as a spasm hardened it like the head of a drum. “Mr. Hocker’s ways may not always be to my liking, but he’s a good provider.” “And a good father? I doubt it, judging by what you told me of your oldest boy, Pearce.” The pressure began to lessen, her muscles relax. “You’d like Pearce. He’s gentle, like you.” She smiled slightly. “The poor boy is certain he’s the only person who ever sinned. He takes his responsibilities for it seriously.” “You said the Stone baby is his. Are you sure?” “As sure as anyone can be. The truth died with Emma.” Gritting her teeth, she waited for another pain. They’d reached the outskirts of Kansas City. To go further, together in the open carriage, might mean they’d be noticed. With Parkerson away, such an unusual occurrence was sure to cause gossip. Nancy laid a restraining hand over Rias’s. “I can go on alone from here.” “I suppose that is best.” He stopped the horse. “How much farther is it to your place?” “We live on Sixth, near Nebraska.” “Very well.” Climbing down, he unhitched his saddle horse and stood by the side of the buggy. “No racing, like the old days, you hear?”

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She couldn’t help but smile. “I promise.” Go away, now, she ordered silently, before...An intense pain shot through her, its effects impossible to hide. Agony contorted her face. She gasped. Bent double. In an instant, Rias was beside her again. “I thought something was wrong. Why didn’t you tell me? I’d have seen you all the way home.” Nancy knew the ire she heard in his voice was only his man’s way of dealing with adversity. “I’m all right.” “The hell you are.” “You can’t go home with me!” Her knuckles white, Nancy held tightly to his arm and closed her eyes against the pain. “Everyone will talk.” “Let them,” Rias said. “I’m not leaving you.” “But the children...” “Your children will believe whatever you choose to tell them. We can say I was passing by and saw that you were in trouble, if you like.” Nancy’s heart overflowed with thankfulness, with love, for this man. He was risking his good reputation out of concern for her. There was no one she’d rather have had at her side. The buggy proceeded up Sixth Street, past the Baptist Church and the old Kimbrell place. Winter sun brightened the virgin snow in the yards, making its whiteness painfully radiant.

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“There.” Nancy pointed. “The house with the gables and the snowman by the porch.” Rias swung the buggy around back and stopped. He jumped down and held up his arms to her. In his eyes she saw the abiding love she’d always known was there. It flowed over her as a soothing balm and she sought to engrave it into her memory so she would never again have to feel bereft or unloved. She placed her hands on his shoulders. As she stood, a warm, sticky fluid began to wet her legs. Wide-eyed, she froze, unmoving. It was too early! She’d had backaches before. Often. But never had they heralded tragedy. Looking down, she saw the mixture of blood and water pooling on the floorboards. Her eyes darted to Rias’s face. He, too, had noticed the telltale signs. Catching her up in his arms he swung her off the buggy and held her close as he started boldly for the house. Shocked and afraid, Nancy clung to him. It had been a sin to covet love outside of her marriage and now she was paying the ultimate price for her folly. Oh, the poor baby. What had she done? Closing her eyes tight against the world, she turned her heart to God and prayed for the forgiveness she knew she didn’t deserve.

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Chapter 11 RUBY had dressed and was pacing, wringing her hands. She knew leaving the bed was a waste of her meager strength but she had to see Moses. Until she was sure he was okay, rest was out of the question. A dark-haired girl had stuck her head in the door a short while ago and promised to bring him. If it didn’t happen soon, she was going looking, bawdy house or not. Hearing footsteps, she hurried to the door and jerked it open. Brax was standing there, a silly grin lighting his face. Beside him was a girl who couldn’t have been much more than sixteen. In her arms, she held Moses. “This is Tillie,” Brax said as he ushered the young woman into the room. “I was going to bring him myself but Tillie insisted she could do it better.” Smiling, Ruby clasped her hands to her breast. “Oh, my, oh, my. Give him to me.” Tillie drew back. When Ruby looked to Brax for an explanation, the warning in his expression was clear. Quickly, Ruby extended her hand. “Please, pardon my lack of manners. How do you do?” The girl remained silent. “Pearl says Tillie doesn’t talk much,” Brax explained. “But I’ve watched her closely. She’s taking

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excellent care of the baby.” Surprised by his claim of expertise, Ruby asked, “Do you have experience caring for children?” His countenance changed, darkened. She gathered the question had caused him emotional pain. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.” He shook it off. “I had a son.” “Oh.” Ruby noticed a look of wary curiosity on Tillie’s face and recalled the lie he’d told about their kinship. A sister would already know all about him, wouldn’t she? Ruby quickly made amends. “Of course, you did, dear brother. How silly of me.” Brax nodded. “We have been apart for some time. You’ve been under a great strain.” Taking Tillie by the shoulders he guided her closer. “I want you two to get acquainted. It seems to me, the best way to travel would be to take our little friend Tillie along, too. Don’t you agree, sister?” The idea had already occurred to Ruby. Only in her version of the plan, the women traveled without Brax. “What a marvelous thought,” she said, placing an arm around the girl’s shoulders in an overt show of friendship. “Good. Then I’ll leave you two to get acquainted.” “That’s probably best,” Ruby said, continuing to mother Tillie. “We have a lot of things to talk about. Women’s things.” She waited till he’d closed the door behind him before she relaxed with an

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exclamation of relief. Tillie looked puzzled. “My brother is too protective,” Ruby said flatly. “His hovering drives me to distraction, sometimes.” She was pleased to see a simple nod of agreement. “Come. Sit down.” Ruby offered the girl the only padded chair. She was dying to hold Moses but sensed that was not the way to win Tillie’s trust. Smiling at the baby, she caressed his head of downy blond hair. “Like a baby chick,” she said tenderly. “So soft.” Tillie, too, smiled. “May I hold him a bit?” Ruby asked, her tone placid. With a quick shake of her head, Tillie declined. “I’ll be careful. I promise. He’s very dear to me, too.” Being far more patient than her nature dictated, Ruby waited, her arms outstretched. Finally, the young woman relented. “Thank you. Oh, thank you,” Ruby said, sighing. “I’ve missed him so.” “He’s mine,” Tillie said. Ruby looked up with a start. “He is?” “Yup. Had him two months ago. His pa was Mr. Amos, I reckon.” “I see.” For a girl who never talked, Tillie was certainly becoming loquacious. Ruby decided the best thing to do was encourage her to go on. “Tell me about it.”

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“Nothin’ to tell. Folks hereabouts hate me ‘cause of what I am. They lied to me, but I found ‘em out.” “Lied to you?” Ruby held tight to her sleeping nephew. “Told me the baby died. But I knowed better. He was just sleepin’. You can see that. He’s a fine, healthy boy. Just like I knowed he was.” “Yes, I see he’s very fine,” Ruby said. “But don’t you think it would be best if we both took care of him? That way, one of us can be awake to look after him all the time.” “No. He’s mine.” She reached out. The wildness in her eyes was enough to convince Ruby that relinquishing Moses for the moment was the wisest course of action. “I’d be pleased to help you,” Ruby said calmly while her heart raced and fluttered. “I could do his washing. Rock him while you did your chores.” “He don’t need you.” “But wouldn’t you like a friend? I’d be proud to be your friend, Tillie.” Holding her breath, Ruby waited. The girl’s mind was childlike, untutored. Yet even the most unsophisticated child could be crafty. As long as Tillie believed Moses was her lost baby, he was safe. The thought that frightened Ruby was the chance that one day the girl would discern the truth. If that happened, there was no telling what she might do.

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Ruby pressed her. “I’ll only be in Pueblo for a short time. I’d truly like to be friends with you. Really, I would.” “I hold the baby,” Tillie warned. “Of course you do. That’s your right. And he certainly seems to be thriving.” Tillie laughed, cupped one of her breasts. Already, a wet spot was appearing on her bodice. “I’ve got milk, that’s for sure. It hurts when he don’t eat enough.” She leaned toward Ruby and giggled, then whispered, “Mr. Amos, he was helpin’ me when I got so sore a while back, but it don’t feel right when a man sucks. Babies is best.” Blushing, Ruby refused to be intimidated. “It was meant to be so.” Tillie laughed and slapped her knee. “I’ll wager no man ever sucked your tits, wet or dry, did he?” “Of course not!” “It ain’t so bad if it’s the right fella,” the whore told her. “Since we’re gonna be friends, I could show you some ways to please a man. Then you could try ‘em on Brax.” “Please! He’s my brother,” Ruby insisted. The wily look on Tillie’s face told her she wasn’t fooled. “Brother. Humpf. He’s a randy boy who’d just as soon take a poke at your drawers, and you know it. I seen it in his eyes when you was sleepin’.” “He didn’t...?”

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“Nope. Too stupid, I reckon. Got me and Pearl to undress you for him. That’s when I figured he wasn’t your kin.” “Have you told anyone?” “Crazy Tillie don’t talk,” she reminded Ruby. “Ask anybody.” “That’s what they call you?” “Sure. They think I don’t know, but I heard ‘em. So I stopped talkin’. Serves ‘em right.” “You’re talking to me.” The girl nodded, “You treated me regular, like my ma used to.” Pausing, she rocked Moses in her arms and smiled. “That’s why I’m gonna let you be my friend, like you wanted.” With a sigh of relief, Ruby gave Tillie’s shoulders a brief squeeze. It was a start. At this point, Ruby couldn’t afford to be choosy.

CALEB SWUNG his left arm wide to keep it out of the way and patted his lap with his right. “Come here, Nellie. Sit with me.” “I don’t know, Judge. My pa said I was to behave like a lady.” He chuckled. “Ladies often sit on gentlemen’s laps. Especially when the gentleman is old enough to

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be their father.” “Oh, but you’re not old.” She blushed, lowered her eyes. “You’re...” “I’m what, Nellie?” “You’re handsome, sir. Much more so than the silly boys who come to court me.” “Ah. So, that’s begun, has it? I thought as much.” “They’ve not touched me. Not even so much as a kiss. I know it’s a sin to permit such things.” “Have you read the Song of Solomon, child?” Nellie shook her head. “Then we should read it now. Fetch me my bible.” When she returned with the worn, leather-bound tome he once again offered his lap. This time, to his pleasure, she accepted. Circling her waist with his good arm he rested his chin on her shoulder and felt her begin to relax against his chest. Her hair smelled like fresh flowers and lemons. Her skin was dove-soft against his cheek. “’Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet and thy speech is comely...’” he began. He had read the same verses to Emma and she, too, had melted in his arms. Giving his imagination free rein, he could almost believe he had Emma back, again. “’Thy two breasts are like two young roes that are twins, which feed among the lilies.’” He heard

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Nellie’s sharp intake of breath. “Does that embarrass you, child?” “Yes, sir. A tad.” In her loss of composure she’d let the book fall closed. “It shouldn’t.” He began to quote from memory. “’Thou art fair, my love; there is no spot in thee.’ That’s how you are, Nellie.” “I don’t understand.” “Oh, I think you do.” Turning his head slightly he brushed a kiss on her cheek. When she didn’t object, he lowered his lips to caress her neck. An older, more seasoned woman would have noticed his arousal by now but Nellie seemed oblivious. “Judge Stone, I...” The breathless quality of her voice made his blood race. “I’ll not hurt you, child. I swear.” In response, she threw back her head, giving him better access to the white column of her throat and softly mewed like a newborn kitten. Slowly, the movement a continuing caress, Caleb stroked her ribs beneath her breasts, his thumb trailing its way around the lower edge. She didn’t need a corset to enhance her lovely shape. As his hand slid ever higher, he felt her breathing grow ragged, her nipples harden to his touch. She turned slightly in his arms and buried her face in his shoulder. “Oh, I am such a terrible sinner,” she whispered.

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“I’m glad you realize that,” Caleb said. “What can I do?” Nellie raised frightened eyes to his. “I burn. I’ve never felt this way before.” “I’ll help you. Together, we’ll find purification.” He glanced at the bandage on his arm. “But you’ll have to help me, too.” Nodding, she parted her lips, hesitated a moment, then tried to press them to his. Caleb turned his head, dipped it to plant kisses between her soft breasts. Nellie moaned. “Raise your skirts.” Eyes tightly pressed closed, she did as he commanded. Piling the folds high on her lap she nestled deeper into his arms. He found the warmth of her evident hunger, the musk of her woman’s sin. Such fresh need! Such artless desire! Caleb’s practiced ministrations were making Nellie twist and arch into his hand. The pressure of her buttocks on his lap was bringing him closer to his own satisfaction than he wanted. His left arm had begun to throb unmercifully. He would have to rethink his strategy. His caresses stopped. “Oh, please,” Nellie begged, clinging to him. “Make the strange feelings go away.” “I will. But first you must help me.” He pushed her off his lap. “On your knees, girl.” Trembling, Nellie obeyed. She looked up at him, her hands resting on his thighs, her trust complete. Caleb closed his eyes and pulled her closer.

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NANCY SAW the panic in her middle son’s eyes as Rias carried her through the kitchen door. Phillip had witnessed enough of life in his eleven years to know something was terribly wrong. She sought to comfort him. “I’m all right, Phillip, honey. Fetch Nellie.” “She...she’s not here.” “She’s got to be.” Nancy heard the terror in her voice and fought to sound calm. The girl had been left in charge of the younger ones. She couldn’t be far away. “Where did she go?” “With Pa,” Phillip said. “Noah was supposed to be watchin’ us. He went chasin’ after Brownie a while back.” As the boy’s words registered, Nancy felt another contraction. “Then run and get Mrs. Plunkett or Mrs. Webber. Tell them I need them, quick.” She saw the youngster squint at Rias. “Who’s he?” “A friend,” Nancy said. “I was sick and he was kind enough to see me home.” “Why’s he carryin’ you?” “Show me where her room is and I’ll put her down,” Rias interjected gruffly.

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The younger Hocker children had gathered. He had to push through them to get Nancy into her bed. She shooed the littlest ones away, sped Phillip on his way, then took Rias’s hand as he crouched beside her. “You should go, too.” “I won’t leave you. Not until I see you have help.” “Not even for the sake of my reputation?” “Not at the possible cost of your life, no,” he said flatly. Tears misted Nancy’s vision. “You heard my son. Mr. Hocker is home from Chicago. If he finds you here...” Rias sighed, straightened. “All right. I’ll wait outside and make sure the boy brings someone. Then I’ll go. If your husband arrives first, he can take charge.” In Nancy’s heart there was no comparison between the two men. She squeezed his hand. “Thank you.” “You’ll be all right,” he whispered. “I’ll be praying for you.” “I don’t deserve your prayers,” she said softly, penitently. “I should never have come to you. Now I’m paying the price for my sinfulness.” “Nonsense!” Rias paced away from her, saw the smaller children peering in at the doorway and shut the door so he could speak freely. “Do you think God punishes us for caring about one another? We’ve

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committed no sin. We’re dear, old friends. How can that be wrong?” She covered her face with her hands and wept openly. “My sin is in my heart. You must know that. As a man thinketh in his heart, so is he.” “Then every man in the world is doomed,” Rias countered, “because there’s not a one of us who doesn’t covet something he shouldn’t. I can’t believe the Lord would punish us by hurting a child, and neither should you.” Stepping closer, he took her hands from her eyes, tilted up her chin and placed a kiss on each damp eyelid before placing a last, lingering one on her quivering lips. Nancy opened her eyes to drink in the sight of him. “Forgive me. I’ve yearned to do that all day. Now that I must bid you good-bye, I couldn’t deny myself a taste of your sweetness.” He lowered his voice and spoke against her ear. “I shall love you always, dear lady.” “And I’ll love you.” Nancy smiled. “Now, go.” Rias pulled himself away, his eyes misty with emotion, just as the door burst open. Standing in the doorway, his sparse hair in disarray, a scowl creasing his forehead, was Parkerson Hocker. He looked first at Rias, then at his prostrate wife. “What the hell is going on here?” Nancy raised on one elbow, felt another rush of fluid. “The baby,” she said, falling back upon the pillows. “It’s coming too soon.”

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“Never mind that,” Parkerson barked. “Just tell me who this man is. What’s he doing in my bedroom with my wife, behind closed doors?” Straightening, Rias strode toward the furious man. “I shut the door because I didn’t want the young ones to be frightened.” He glanced at the floor where a trail of blood lay in splotches. “Mrs. Hocker became ill and I saw her home.” “From where?” He stepped aside to look past Rias at Nancy. “Nellie told me you were visiting the Tollefsens. I just came by there and your buggy was not in their yard. Nor did we pass you on the road.” “She was mistaken,” Nancy said. “I told her I was going calling, but not where.” A strong contraction hit her, doubling her up. Clutching her knees she rocked to ease it and fought back tears. “Your wife is in pain, man, go to her,” Rias said. Parkerson snorted. “She’s had children before. She knows it hurts. That’s a woman’s lot.” “You pious bastard.” Rias clenched his fists. Only his feelings for Nancy kept him from striking out on her behalf. “If you two don’t know each other, why should you care?” “Anyone with an ounce of compassion would care.” Pushing past him, Rias stalked out the door. The boy had arrived with an older woman who, although out of breath, seemed in control of the situation. She swept past him into the bedroom.

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Nancy cried out in pain, her agony echoing through the house. Rias’s expression of deep concern had bolstered her sagging spirits. She blessed him for caring. It was hard enough to go through childbirth without at least a little commiseration. She knew that because she’d done it before. Eight—now nine— times. The empathy Rias had shown was balm to her soul. Parkerson’s attitude was another matter. He was not fond of witnessing pain. Nancy grasped Mrs. Plunkett’s hand and squeezed. This time, when the contractions got so bad she couldn’t bear them, she’d close her eyes and pretend Rias stood beside her, mopping her brow and speaking loving words of encouragement. It was a small thing, but an important one. If she couldn’t truly have him by her side, then she would pretend. Anything to feel not so alone. She reached out, imagined that she grasped the hand of her truest love, and bravely waited for whatever was to come.

CALEB SCOWLED at the two ruffians who stood before him. One was small and quick, like a weasel; the other husky and lethargic. He told them, “Pick up the Kussner girl in Topeka. Take her to Denver where that foolish Hocker boy has gone, and wait for me.” “Mr. Ellis’ll have our skins if he finds out,” the shorter man warned. “We’re supposed to take all our

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orders from him.” His robust companion shrugged. “I don’t care if he does get in a pucker. The judge here’s makin’ it worth our while. Ellis’s gone to Philadelphia, anyways. By the time he hears...if he hears...we’ll be on the way to Frisco.” “I don’t know.” Caleb cursed. “Then I’ll get someone else.” “No, sir. No, sir. Don’t you do that,” the weasel said. “Me and Brown’ll handle the girl for you. She’s workin’ at a Harvey House so we’ll find her, easy. She’s yours, I swear.” “That’s better.” Caleb withdrew a wad of bills and began peeling them off with his thumb, watching the men’s faces as he did so. He’d gotten pretty dexterous with only one hand. Their greedy eyes focused on the money as it left his fingers and fluttered to the table. He smiled. “You’ll get more later. Keep the job secret or Ellis won’t be the only one liable to skin you alive.” “Yes, sir.” Smith, the wiry leader of the two ruffians gathered up the bills. “You can count on friend Brown and me. Anything else?” “Yes. Once you have the girl, I want you to pick up Pearce Hocker, again. Lock the two of them in a room and listen at the door. They may reveal Ruby’s whereabouts if they think they’re alone.”

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Brown elbowed Smith. “See? I told you he was a smart one. We’ll do real good tied up with him.” Slyly, Caleb regarded the two dolts. Together they didn’t have the brains God gave a prairie dog. That was just as well. Men who were idiots took orders better than those who thought too much. Right now, it wasn’t intelligence he needed, it was extra pairs of hands and strong muscles. The thinking and planning he’d do himself, as always.

RUBY’S DAYS cooped up in the bawdy house were long and boring. Sleep offered little relief. Sounds of the night’s activities coming through the thin walls woke her often. During the days, although she knew should be tired enough to nap, she’d found she almost never could. The healthier she began to feel, the more she suffered from her confinement. She and Tillie had become great friends. Ruby thanked the Lord daily for the young woman’s companionship. If not for Tillie, she would have gone crazy from the self-imposed isolation of the tiny room. She’d begun to teach Tillie to read. Although her personal copies of McGuffey’s Reader, Webster’s Blue-back Speller, Ray’s Arithmetic and Frost’s Pictorial History of the World had gone to Denver in her trunk, she’d managed to get ahold of several Police Gazette papers.

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The stories, were, for the most part, lurid and scandalous, or so Ruby kept telling herself. If the truth be known, she’d never read such amazing tales before and found them quite interesting...in a scholarly way. Some of them even reminded her of her own trials. Except that in the newspaper, justice always triumphed. Ruby sighed. Perhaps that was what attracted her to the fictional works. How wonderful it would be to live in a world where truth and justice constantly won out. Snorting derisively she drew her shawl tightly about her shoulders. Only one world was promised to be like that and it wouldn’t come into being until the millennium. She couldn’t wait that long. Anxious and bored nearly to tears she went to the door of her room, peeked out to be certain the hallway was empty, then quickly ducked next door to Tillie’s. The girl was seated in the rocking chair, as usual, cuddling Moses. The sight caused Ruby’s heart to lurch. Someday soon she’d have to reclaim her nephew. The shock could be terribly damaging to the fragile mind of her newly made friend. What had begun as a necessity was by now an abiding friendship. Ruby cared deeply for Tillie’s feelings. Ruby said, “Morning,” and flashed a broad smile. “Mornin’.” Searching for conversation, she inquired about the baby’s health and Tillie’s well-being. “Just fine, as always,” Tillie replied. “I seen Brax this mornin’.”

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“So?” Ruby knew the girl was trying her best at match-making. Lately, her efforts were becoming more frequent and quite blatant. “I wish you’d stop treating me as if I were the perfect wife for Mr. Rutledge. I have no intention of relying on any man for the bread in my mouth or the roof over my head.” “Whyever not?” Rocking slowly, Tillie scowled at her. “I’m thinkin’ about takin’ Amos for my husband and I’m barely sixteen summers. You ain’t gettin’ any younger.” “That has nothing to do with it. If I were fifty, I’d still feel the same.” “And they call me crazy.” “Things are not as they seem,” Ruby said quietly. Making her way to the bed she perched on the side of it and dangled her legs, kicking them randomly. “There was a time, I suppose, when I might have been willing to settle on a husband, but no more. No man would have me.” “Brax might.” Ruby shook her head. “He’s too smart to get tangled up with the likes of me.” She smiled. “He’s just helping me temporarily, that’s all.” “And you don’t figure you owe him for that?” “Of course, I do.” Her legs stilled. “I’ll do my best to repay all the money he’s spent. As soon as things have quieted down, I’ll sell the McKay farm and...” “McKay? Who’s that?”

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Ruby’s breath caught in her throat. The relaxing atmosphere had lulled her into a false sense of safety and she’d foolishly let her guard down. Now, her only hope was to plead with Tillie to keep her secret. Going to her, Ruby knelt on the floor beside the rocker. “You mustn’t ever repeat that name or let it be known it was I who mentioned it to you,” she said. “Why not?” “It’s a long, horrid story,” Ruby told her. “And if a certain man learns that I’m hiding here, he’ll come for me and Moses.” Tillie’s expression hardened, her lips drawn into a thin line. “I won’t let him touch this baby. No, sir.” “I believe you,” Ruby said, “but this man is powerful, with lots of money and influential friends. Like the man in the story we read yesterday about little Eva. Remember?” “I remember.” Holding the baby tightly to her breasts, Tillie wrapped her arms close about him. “Eva, she tricked him and got clean away.” “That’s what I’ve been doing,” Ruby said. “That’s how I came to be here.” “That’s why you never go out? So’s nobody can see you?” “That’s right. I’ll not leave these rooms until I’m ready to board the train.” As Ruby watched, Tillie’s stern expression was replaced with one of thought, then wonder, and finally, sadness.

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“Will that be soon?” she asked. “I’m afraid so. The longer I tarry here, the greater the risk to me.” “And to Moses?” Fondly, she gazed down at the baby. For the first time since she’d made the girl’s acquaintance, Ruby sensed an awareness of the reality of the baby’s parentage. Could it be that Tillie had finally accepted that her own child had died and Moses was only a temporary substitute? And if so, might she hurt him? Neglect him? Cautious, Ruby watched, trying to see into the girl’s mind. Tillie squared her shoulders. “Well, don’t you worry about a thing, Ruby. I’ll never speak a word about your secret. Neither will little Moses, here.” She cooed to the baby. “Will we, son?” Breathing a sigh of relief, Ruby relaxed. Her fears had been groundless. She could proceed as planned. Brax had already talked with Gladys about having Tillie accompany them when it came time to renew their journey. So it would be. A stab of jealousy jolted Ruby. No matter how much she wanted to personally care for Moses, he was better off nursing. As long as Tillie let her see to some of his other needs, she had no choice but to be thankful they’d found someone so eager to insure his health and well-being. Just like the Moses of the bible, she mused, except in the bible, Moses’s real mama had volunteered for the job. She lifted her eyes heavenward. “He’s well, Emma. A fine boy. And strong. You’d be proud.”

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Tillie began singing an Irish melody that brought tears to Ruby’s eyes. It was the same tune their grandmother had crooned to her and Emma so long ago! If God had reached out and cradled her heart in His mighty hand He couldn’t have lifted it any higher. Happily, she joined Tillie in the last of the lilting refrain.

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Chapter 12 GROGGY, Sarah tried to force her eyes open. Her lids were leaden. The strange, sweet smell she recalled was gone. There was still a bitter taste in her mouth. It seemed like she’d been drifting in and out of the strangest dream. Now, once again, she imagined a swaying, swishing and clanking that reminded her of the train ride to Topeka. A babble of odd voices echoed in her head, making nonsensical, sing-song words. That couldn’t be. She worked at Harvey House. There was no reason for her to be on a train. Or among foreigners. It was nearly supper time. The nice young man from the hotel, Mr. Gage, would be in for his usual steak and fried taters, apple pan dowdy and coffee. Black. He liked his coffee black and hot... Lordy, her mouth was dry. Trying to swallow, she discovered her throat wasn’t any more inclined to cooperate than her eyelids were. Silly dream. So uncomfortable. Her wrists even hurt... Oh, my! There was Robert! She called to him and he raised a hand to wave. Glory! How she’d missed that boy. What a blessing that he wasn’t dead after all. Laughing and calling to her he began to trot across the meadow. In one hand he held the old, single-shot .22 Pa had given him. He’d loved that

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rifle so much he’d even slept with it. Sarah tried to run to meet him. Her best efforts were for naught. Slowly, as if in a fog, Robert’s image faded. She heard a voice calling to her. The pressure on her wrists eased. Someone was shaking her shoulders. Let me sleep, she thought. I’m so tired. And I have to find Robert. The shaking continued. Finally, she managed to peer out from behind her leaden lashes. The blond young man who hovered over her didn’t resemble Robert much, though he did appear to be concerned. And frightened. It was that emotion which helped push the fog from her mind. Struggling to sit up, she felt his strong arm supporting her shoulders. “Thank God! I thought you were dead,” he said. “I...” Sarah’s hand went to her forehead. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear a blacksmith was beating on his anvil behind her eyebrows. “Oh, dear. I feel poorly.” “No wonder,” the young man said. “You’ve been unconscious for the better part of the night. I untied you, but...” “Night?” Cringing and shrinking back from him she tried to swallow, coughed. “Could I have a drink, please?” “Judging from the whiskey smell on your coat and frock, I think you’ve had quite enough to drink,

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Miss.” “I don’t know what you mean.” He bent to pour water from a cracked pitcher into a tin cup, handing it cautiously to her. “Here. Sip this.” Sarah drank hungrily, felt her stomach lurch and leaned over the side of the bed to be ill. Her companion was quick with the chamber pot. He steadied her shoulders till the spasms stopped. “See?” he said. “I told you.” Tears of embarrassment filled her eyes. Whatever opinions the boy had formed of her were obviously erroneous. But where was she? And how had she come to be there, sick and alone with a stranger? He’d said it was night. What was happening? She glanced around the room as she lowered her shaking body onto the edge of the bed. One candle, stuck into a tarnished brass holder that looked like a small snake with spines, was all the light they had. The flame cast undulating shadows on grimy, stained walls. The only furniture in the room was the bed, a washstand, and an old cane-back chair. Taking a hesitant breath of the cold, musty air, she realized the young man had been right. As impossible as it seemed, she did reek of strong drink. How could that be? And how had she come to be in such an awful place?

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She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth and scooted back against the pillows. “Where are we? I don’t recognize anything.” The chuckle he emitted was humorless. “I don’t know. I suspect this is a Chinese dive somewhere in Denver City. I’ve heard a lot about them since I got here.” “Chinese? Denver?” Dizziness flooded through her. She closed her eyes tight, refusing to accept what he’d said. “It can’t be. I live and work in Topeka.” “Well, ma’am, you’re in the state of Colorado now.” Incredulous, Sarah shrank back. “Why should I believe you? Who are you? And what are you doing in my room?” He held up his hands, palms toward her, and backed away. “Please, don’t get upset. I won’t hurt you.” “How do I know that?” “Look,” he said, bending over and parting his hair so she could see the blood matted on his scalp. “Somebody hit me. When I woke up, you were lying right where you are now. I was on the floor. My wound was still fresh,” he touched it lightly and winced, “so that’s how I know we can’t be far from where it happened.” “But...” With her head pounding and the whole room lurching as badly as her stomach, Sarah had to

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struggle to form lucid thoughts. The only person she knew who might want to harm her had released her weeks ago. He’d acted as if he’d not bother her again. Had he lied? Could all this be due to him? As far as she knew, Judge Stone was her only real enemy in the world. But, why bring her to Denver? Because that’s where Ruby was supposed to be going! Sarah concluded. If she was right, she was in big trouble. Staring at the fair-haired young man, Sarah tried to decide whose side he might be on. It would be nice to know whether or not she needed to gather her wits and prepare for another battle. “Who are you?” she asked. “That doesn’t matter.” “To me it does,” Sarah insisted. “If we’re together, I reckon there must be some reason. Until we figure that out, we might as well be dropped down a well with no rope.” This time, his laugh was more natural. “Don’t speak ideas like that, ma’am. Whoever did this to us might take you up on it. I’m not ready to die of the damps just yet.” Groaning, she sat up on the edge of the bed and waited a moment for her head to clear. “You’re like my brother, Robert. He always saw the funny side of life, too.” “This isn’t funny,” the young man countered, “and I do apologize for my poor manners.” He held out his hand. “My name is Pearce Hocker.”

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She shook the hand briefly, noting that it was a darned sight warmer than her own frozen fingers. “Sarah Kussner.” “Ma’am.” “Are you from Kansas, by any chance?” Seeing him stiffen, she went on. “I had a friend from there. She got into a might of trouble. I helped her.” Pausing, she watched Pearce’s face. Although his expression was guarded, he’d been unable to cover his surprise or interest in what she was saying. “I could be,” he said slowly. “What was your friend’s name?” Sarah shook her head. The quick motion set off a series of stomach spasms. She stilled, moaning softly. “I got to remember not to do that.” Approaching, Pearce bent a knee at her feet. “Please. Go on.” “Don’t know that I should. Not till I know if you’re friend or foe.” Looking into his eyes she guessed he was probably the former. It wouldn’t hurt to tell him a little more. See what he did. She took a deep breath. “All right. There was this poor gal and a baby, and...” “Miss Ruby.” From the reverent way he spoke the name, Sarah easily made up her mind whose side he was on. “Yes. Ruby. And Moses.” “Are they all right?” Pearce grasped her hands.

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The act was one of desperation, not social transgression, so she permitted it. “Last I saw they were. I figure, us being here like this, he can’t have found her. Otherwise, he’d want to steer clear of us.” “You’re right!” A broad smile lighted Pearce’s face. “You don’t know where she is?” “No. I was hoping you did. I came west to find her, but it looks as if she never arrived in Denver.” “Ha-ha!” Sarah managed a weak grin in spite of her pounding head. “I knowed she was too smart for ‘em.” He rocked back on his heels, still holding her hands. The moment he realized what he was doing he blushed brightly and released them. “So, now what do we do?” “I don’t know about you, Mr. Hocker,” Sarah said, “but I’d dearly love to get shut of this place.” “Do you think you’re well enough to try?” “No, but I aim to, anyways.” “And then what?” He stuffed his hands into his pockets, stared at the door. “The door is locked and guarded. The windows are barred. There’s no way out.” “We got in, didn’t we?” “That’s true.” She had to laugh at him. Big, strapping boy, looking to a sick woman for advice. Well, she’d have to

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come up with an idea soon, because she had to use the commode and no way was she going to do it with him in the room. Pearce smiled sheepishly. “You have a plan?” “Lordy, I don’t know. I’m goin’ back to Topeka, I can tell you that.” She looked around the tawdry room. There was no sign of her reticule. Reaching into the pockets of her coat, she came away empty-handed. “Looks like I’ll need to borrow the money for my ticket, though.” “Gladly.” He started to reach into the breast pocket of his coat, then hesitated. “But, what will keep them from taking you, again?” “Hadn’t thought of that.” “You should stay with me, for a time.” “Thank you, no. I have a job in Topeka. Mr. Harvey would fire me if I went off with you.” Pearce looked down at her, his expression grave. “I’m afraid the damage is already done. You’ve been spirited away and we’ve spent the night together. Alone. If our abductors tell anyone...” “I’ll make folks understand.” Pearce got down on his knees again. “We don’t know how far it is to a depot, or who might be after us. Stay with me so I can protect you. When we’re well away from danger, I promise I’ll send you back to

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Topeka.” “You promise?” “I swear on the bible.” Sarah considered her options. There were none. Careful to nod slowly for the sake of her headache, she smiled at Pearce. “All right. Now, how do we get out of here?”

SEEING BRAX appear at her door, hat in hand, unruly hair slicked back, gave Ruby pause. He looked for all the world like a bashful suitor, which was too silly an idea to entertain for more than a moment. He’d remained clean-shaven except for his upper lip. The effect of the rapidly growing mustache was rather dashing. He nodded. “Miss Ruby.” “Hello, Mr. Rutledge.” “May I come in? We have some things to discuss.” “Of course.” She stepped aside to let him pass. “You can leave the door open, if you like.” “To avoid compromising my character?” Ruby laughed. “I have just spent weeks in a house of ill-

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repute, keeping company with soiled doves. What reputation can I have left?” “Anyone who knows you would never think poorly of you,” he countered. “As a matter of fact, the girls want to throw a wing-ding in your honor before we go.” “I’d suspected as much. Tillie’s been hinting at it for days. When?” Brax watched her close the door. He shifted his feet restlessly. “They figured tonight would be good.” “I see.” Ruby laced her fingers together, studied him. It was plain he meant her no harm. Nor did he judge her. The only problem was, he was still bent on delivering her to the law. “You’ve decided it’s time to go, then?” He nodded, looking her full in the face. “You’re well again. Moses is thriving. I hear tell the snow in the pass is melting, too.” “And you have a ranch waiting for your attention. I understand. It’s been good of you to delay as long as you have.” “Yes, ma’am. I’m just glad it was me that found you and not anyone else.” “So am I.” Her eyebrows arched. “I’ll need to stock up on milk and things for the baby’s journey.” Nodding again, he cocked his head toward the next room. “I guess Tillie told you, she won’t be goin’ with us.”

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“Yes. And I’ll miss her terribly. But for a girl like her, the chance to marry is not to be sneezed at. Even if Amos Greenberry is old enough to be her father.” “That’s a fact.” Changing the subject, Brax’s voice took on a light-hearted air. “So, you’ll be comin’ to the party?” “I wouldn’t miss it,” Ruby said. “I’ve listened to the nights’ revelry so often my curiosity is piqued.” “They’re closin’ down the bar, just on account of you. Gladys figured, since it was your party, they should try to make you comfortable.” “They’re dear ladies. All of them,” Ruby said softly. “Had hard lives, though.” “Hardship can build character and faith. Look at Job. He lost everything.” Brax had stepped closer. He put out his hand. For a moment Ruby thought he was going to touch her but he apparently changed his mind, dropping his arm to his side. “You won’t lose,” he promised. “Trust me. You’ll be all right. You’ll see.” “I’m sure I will, Mr. Rutledge.” Forcing a smile, she gazed up at him. This close, his size overwhelmed. If he weren’t so bent on turning her over to the law, it would be sensible to let him escort her to New Mexico Territory. As it was, she had to try to duck away from him or take the chance of having her identity exposed. Once that happened, she wouldn’t be able to function anonymously, trap Stone, and

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make him pay for the murder of the newspaper man Emma had written about in her journal. “They’re kickin’ out the commission house boys and railroaders around supper time,” Brax said. “I’ll come fetch you when everything’s quieted down.” “Is that necessary?” “Is what necessary?” “Making everyone leave. Don’t the girls enjoy the men from town? I’d think they’d have a better time at the party if some of their friends were there, too.” “You don’t mind? I mean...” Ruby squared her shoulders. “I know what you mean, Mr. Rutledge. I thank you for trying to protect me. But please remember that these ladies are my friends. They took me in when others looked away and passed me by. I am not so pretentious that I would refuse to consider their happiness simply for the sake of appearances.” Brax cleared his throat. “Yes, ma’am. We just figured...” “Heaven help me,” Ruby declared. “Jesus drank wine and consorted with folks not approved of in polite circles. I don’t pretend to be as tolerant as the Lord, but I’m learning. Now, you go tell Gladys I’d be honored to attend her party. If she wants to invite men for her girls to dance with, I certainly have no problem with it.”

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She paused in her diatribe and went to the door. “Close your mouth, Mr. Rutledge. If this was summer, you’d be catching flies.” His expression was so comical, Ruby had to chuckle. “Excuse me. You do look awfully shocked. “No more than usual where you’re concerned,” he finally said. “Make a list of the supplies you’ll need for the trip. I’ll pick them up for you this afternoon. Our train leaves early tomorrow morning.” The gaiety went out of Ruby’s thoughts. Her smile faded. “I’ll have the list for you in an hour.” She closed the door after him. It shouldn’t have surprised her that he was eager to be on his way. Her tiny world had become so structured, of late, she’d managed to shelve her most troubling thoughts. They were still there, though. Crouching like a wolf outside a sheepfold. Waiting for the right moment to rush in. Far from home and from Stone’s tyranny, she’d grown complacent. Therein lay the real danger. Those who forgot to bar the door against Beelzebub had no one but themselves to blame when he appeared among them. Her memory turned fondly to dwell on Nancy Hocker. How she did yearn to sit in Nancy’s kitchen once again, sipping tea and chatting about the mundane events of daily life. Taking pen in hand, Ruby made the list Brax had requested. She folded it around some bills from her reticule, then laid it aside and took up a fresh sheet of paper. Now that she was moving on, what harm

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could it do to write a short note to Nancy? If their positions had been reversed, Ruby knew such a letter would bring her untold joy. When she was well gone from Pueblo, one of Gladys’s girls could post it for her. With a heavy heart, Ruby began to write.

NANCY LAY quietly, her strength spent. The younger children had been in to see her after it was all over. Noah and Phillip had acted embarrassed. Polly and Ada had hugged her and told her how sorry they were that their new little brother had died. They’d shed tears together before the little ones had left with Mrs. Plunkett. Nancy sighed and grasped the coverlet. She’d be so relieved when Nellie got home. It wasn’t right for the girl to be out at Stone’s all alone. It wasn’t safe. The thought chilled her soul. Why couldn’t Parkerson see the kind of man Caleb was? Hearing footsteps approaching, Nancy thought of Pearce, realized it couldn’t be him, and steeled herself for a meeting with her husband. From the rapid sound of his approach, he was agitated. Parkerson came through the door so forcefully he knocked it back against the wall. The look in his eyes was cruel. Merciless. Terrifying.

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“What...what is it? What’s wrong?” “You had to go and get yourself in a family way, didn’t you? Just when we needed you.” “What?” Nancy was befuddled. Pacing and waving his arms, Parkerson shouted, “The girl, you ninny. She’s run away. If you’d been well, you could have done the job. I wouldn’t have had to send her.” Ignoring the pain, Nancy managed to sit up in bed. “What girl? Nellie?” “Damn it. Haven’t you been listening, woman? I just told you. She’s run away.” Nancy didn’t try to hide her bitterness. Losing the baby and seeing Rias again had caused her to reflect on the tenuousness of life and how quickly the best of it could be snatched from one’s grasp. A few days ago, she wouldn’t have dared talk back to her husband. Now, she did. “From Stone?” Parkerson wheeled. “Of course, from Stone. If you’d been here when we left, as you should have been, you’d know.” “I know the kind of beast the judge is.” Nancy didn’t try to hide her anger. “Has it taken losing poor Nellie to open your eyes?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Oh, don’t you? Just what did he do to her out there in that big house all alone? She’s a child, for God’s sake! You threw her to the lions!”

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“I did nothing of the kind. My own dear wife could have tended to his needs if she hadn’t been out catting. Was your old friend too rough with you? Is that how you killed my son?” His hands closed into fists. “I should have divorced you long ago.” “Mr. Hocker! You have an evil mind.” “Do I? I’m not the one who just suggested that a respected judge would bother an innocent girl.” Nancy glared at him. “You know as well as I do that Caleb Stone hasn’t been right in the head for a long time. No law is strong enough to overcome the corruption in his black heart.” Tears pooled in her eyes. She screamed, “Where is my daughter?” “I don’t know, madam. Nor does Judge Stone. The ungrateful girl left him without even once changing the bandage on his arm.” “His arm? Don’t you mean, his hand?” Puzzled, she scowled at him. “I wish I did. Caleb has no hand. Not anymore. The doctors in Chicago had to amputate. So you can hardly blame him for asking for a little help around the house.” “They took his hand off?” Nancy was nearly whispering. “Are you deaf? Yes, they took it off. He’s suffered a great deal. He’s to be pitied, not condemned.” Nancy began laugh hysterically. “What’s the matter with you, woman?”

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She managed to stifle her chuckles enough to say, “Nothing. Not a thing.” “Then what the...?” “Because it’s the perfect punishment. Don’t you see? ‘If thy hand offend thee, cut it off.’ That man’s hands have offended so much it’s a wonder he has either one of them left!” Taken aback, Parkerson opened his mouth to contradict her, then apparently changed his mind. He clamped his jaw shut, turned and stalked out of the room. Nancy clasped her hands and held them to her breast, praying wordlessly. Nellie would be all right. She had to be. It was unthinkable to imagine the loss of both the new baby and her darling Nellie. And with Pearce so far away, too. Closing her eyes, Nancy fell back against the pillows and prayed for her loved ones with all the fervor of a mother’s heart.

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Chapter 13 RUBY stood in the middle of Tillie’s room and looked down at the low, squared décolletage of the green satin gown her friend had insisted she wear for the evening’s festivities. The bodice fit so tightly from her ribs to her hips, thanks to the whalebone in her corset, that she wondered if she might have to temporarily forgo breathing. The skirt below, except for the train and slight bustle, left little room for walking if she didn’t lift it above her ankle. All in all, it was quite shameless. “It’s pretty,” Tillie insisted. “If you truly want to distract a man, this dress’ll do it.” Ruby shook her head. “I’m not so sure I want anyone to notice me this much.” She tugged at the ruffle outlining the low neck, hitched at the flower-bedecked puffs over her shoulders. “All we need is for someone to keep Brax busy while you sneak out with the baby. Surely, Pearl could do a better job than I.” Tillie giggled. “Not to hear her tell it. Seems Mr. Rutledge sleeps alone. She blames you for that.” “Me? Why, he’s never...I mean, I’ve never...” Frustrated, she glanced around the room. “I need a shawl.” There was none. The outfit was hopeless. “Oh, fudge.” “I love the way you curse,” Tillie said, tittering. “It don’t even sound bad.” “It’s not supposed to.” Ruby put her hands on the waist of the dress and smoothed the heavy satin.

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Tillie had laced her corset so tightly she couldn’t take a decent breath. She pulled a face. “What’s worse, is wearing a dress like this when my sister’s barely in her grave. It’s shameless.” “She’d understand,” the girl countered solemnly. “We all have to do what we think is right, like you said.” Ruby took her hands. “You have my traveling bag with the money and Moses’s things? I’ll not be able to take much with me when I sneak away. I’m counting on you to have everything ready.” “It will be. How’re you gonna know when it’s safe?” “I’ll show you.” Ruby crossed to the chair. She reached for her extra petticoat, unwrapped Stone’s Army Colt from its folds and handed the heavy pistol to Tillie. “Careful. It’s loaded.” Tillie nodded. Judging by the way the girl handled the gun, she was no novice. She looked up at Ruby. “Who do you want me to shoot?” “No one! Use it to signal me. Two shots, in rapid succession. Then I’ll hurry to meet you at the station.” “What if you don’t come?” “I’ll come. You just be there with Moses.” A sharp, impatient-sounding knock startled them both. Without thinking, Ruby jerked open the door and found herself facing an equally startled Brax Rutledge.

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He removed his hat. His scowl remained firmly in place. “You didn’t answer when I went to your room. I was worried.” To keep him from seeing the added preparations for travel in Tillie’s room, Ruby quickly swept out into the hall, her skirts swishing, her smile nervous. From the way he was studying her, she knew she’d never be able to fool him into thinking nothing was wrong, so she sought to divert his attention. Tugging at the bodice of her borrowed dress, she tried to lift it to cover more of her chest. “I had to have Tillie’s help getting into this gown,” she said, blushing as she noticed that his eyes were drawn to the creamy, exposed mounds of flesh peeking over the satin and ruffles. Brax chuckled at her futile attempts at modesty. “You might as well stop pulling. “That’s all the dress there is. If you tear it, Pearl will nail my hide to a post.” “Your hide?” Ruby frowned. “You got this dress for me? I thought it belonged to Tillie.” “Tillie’s way too short and too...” He hesitated. “Go on.” Her eyes narrowed. “Well, she’s too ‘big’ in some, uh, places. Too well-rounded.” “And I’m not, is that it?” Ruby couldn’t believe she was actually having this conversation, discussing her own physical attributes, or the lack of them, with a man. She wasn’t about to back down, though. Whether he was interested in her or simply embarrassed by her, the result would be the same. He’d stay

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focused on the satin and ribbons and Tillie could escape with Moses. Besides, Ruby told herself, she did look pretty. Oh, not in the same way as Gladys’s girls, of course, but presentable. Tillie had managed to coax most of the black dye from her hair, leaving it a rich auburn. She’d styled it high with ribbons and silk flowers. Her shoes were twelve- button, black calfskin, given with a blessing for safe travel by Flora. By the look of them, they were almost new. Smiling, Ruby faced Brax, a challenge in her eyes. “Do you really think my attire is acceptable? I’ve never worn anything like this gown before. I find myself wanting to reach up and hold it in place.” His laugh was rich and throaty. “If you’re careful not to sneeze, you should be fine.” “What a comforting thought.” She took his arm. “Shall we go down?” “Fine.” Brax put his hat back on and led the way. “I didn’t see your bag when I went to your room to get you. Are you packed and ready.” “Yes.” Her breathing was already shallow due to the constraints of her clothing. Anxiety didn’t help. “That’s good. We’ll be leaving early. The train won’t wait.” “No, I suppose it won’t.” Her fingers were trembling where they wrapped around his arm. Brax laid his hand over hers. “I know this is going to be hard for you.” “The party will be no trial. I’m looking forward to it.” “I mean turning yourself in to the Marshall. It takes a great deal of courage to do the right thing. I

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want you to know, I admire you for it.” “Thank you.” Ruby lowered her eyes and concentrated on getting down the narrow staircase without tripping over her skirt. There were tribulations to come of which Brax knew nothing. If he felt she was brave for going to the law with him, how much braver must she really be to take on Caleb Stone by herself? She blinked and looked up as Brax patted her hand. Lord, she hated to deceive him after all he’d done for her. If only he hadn’t been so adamant about turning her and Moses over to the authorities. Clearly, he wasn’t seeing the whole picture. She was the one who’d have to live with the consequences of his actions. And she wasn’t willing to rely upon his judgment—especially since he refused to acknowledge Caleb Stone’s influence over the so-called law. “I’m sorry it has to be this way,” Brax said. “But it’s for the best. In your heart, you must realize I’m right.” “Do I have a choice?” Bothered by the ruse she was planning, Ruby found it impossible meet his gaze. “None. There was a south-bound train, tonight. I delayed till morning so the girls could celebrate with you.” He knew about the night train! “When we leave makes no difference to me. I’ll be ready when you are.”

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Brax nodded. “Now, you’re being sensible. I also wired ahead for more money so you can board in a nice hotel when you get to El Moro.” “You didn’t need to do that.” Overly defensive because she was so troubled, Ruby brought him to a halt as they reached the landing. “I want you to keep track of everything you spend. I’ll pay you back as soon as I can settle my family’s estate.” “I know you want to. That’s plenty good enough for me.” She stared at him, her jaw jutting out stubbornly. “Wait a darn minute, Braxton Rutledge. If you’re so sure I’ll be treated fairly by the courts, why would you doubt my ability to resolve my accounts when all this is over?” “Look,” he said, resigned, “I know you didn’t kill anybody. I also believe that turning yourself in to the law and working through the system is the only way you’re ever going to be free to start a new life.” “Go on.” “Well, the whole thing can take time. Cost money. The way I see it, you’d best hold onto what funds and property you’ve got left, at least till you find out for sure what’s ahead.” “And you intend to just pack me off to this Marshall friend of yours to take my chances?” “I’ll take you to him, myself. Explain the situation. It’ll be all right. You’ll see.” Shadows of poignant memories filled his eyes, broke his heart anew. He was getting altogether too attached to Ruby

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and the baby. The tender feelings were familiar, painful warnings of what might happen to him if he let down his guard, even for a short while. “You don’t feel any responsibility for what you’re asking me to do, do you?” Ruby accused. His countenance darkened. Unwelcome emotions closed his mind against admitting how much he already cared. Defenses firmly entrenched, he said, “That’s how it has to be.” Ruby lost her temper, said what she was thinking. “You know, Mr. Rutledge, with the pigheaded streak you’ve got, it can be real hazardous to be around you.” She saw his expression freeze. The Brax she’d come to like, had fretted about tricking, was gone. In his place stood the same menacing man she’d encountered in Topeka. This time, however, she sensed the personal anguish behind his uncompromising attitude. Ruby realized belatedly that she’d lashed out because she’d wanted to hurt him. Well, she obviously had. Deeply. And she was oh, so sorry. She let go of his arm. “I apologize. I had no call to speak to you that way.” “No. You’re right,” he said, staring blankly past her. “That’s the same thing the Springfields told me after my wife died. I remember every word. They accused me of being too stubborn to see how unhappy and sick Annie’d been, way out there in Texas.” “And then?” Ruby asked, her voice a whisper, her heart breaking for him.

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“Then, I let them take away my son.” “Oh, dear.” There was nothing Ruby could do to stop the tears gathering in her eyes. Brax hardened. “No pity, you hear?” “But...” “None! Why do you think I never talk about it? I don’t know what possessed me to mention it to you. Now get on down to your party. The girls are waiting.” “Aren’t you coming?” “Of course I am. I have celebrating to do, too.” He started down the stairs ahead of her and made straight for the bar.

IN THE darkened room where she and Pearce were being kept captive, Sarah raised the iron bedpost over her head, held her breath and waited. Pearce had managed to convince their guards that she needed to be alone in the room for a few minutes to use the chamber pot. That much was true. Beyond her personal needs, however, she had also formulated their plan of escape. Now, if the big galoot could carry off his part of the scheme, they’d soon be on their way. The door opened slowly. An odor of incense drifted through. Sarah could hear Pearce saying the

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words they’d rehearsed. She tensed. Every muscle in her body was twitching. Her stomach felt like she’d swallowed a whole pail of curdled milk. Just a few more steps...Pearce’s fair hair appeared as he passed through the door. Now! she thought. Say it now, before they lock us in again. “Miss Kussner,” Pearce called, “is it safe for me to come back in? Miss Kussner?” He paused and stepped clear, just like she’d told him to, then added loudly, “Hey! Where is she?” As predicted, their abductors hurried through the door past Pearce. A small man was ahead. Sarah held up her swing to let him pass. Behind him came a tall, burly ruffian brandishing a pistol. He was hatless. As she swung the iron post into the front of his skull, it made a hollow, sickening sound like someone had lobbed a big rock at a ripe watermelon and caught it broadside. The blow knocked him off his feet. He crumpled to the floor. Sarah didn’t have time to give in to the nausea she was feeling. The smaller man had whirled, drawn a slim-bladed knife, and was coming for her. She brought up the post as rapidly as her aching muscles would allow. It wasn’t fast enough. Lunging, the little man grabbed the make-shift weapon, twisted it from her hands and threw it aside. Sarah screamed. The slashing knife barely missed her arm. It caught in her heavy coat. Pressing forward, her assailant jabbed it deeper into the folds as she drew her body back. She was going to die. She

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could see her fate in the sinister glint of the man’s close-set eyes. Seeming to come out of nowhere, Pearce leaped. He caught the man in the shoulder. Tumbled with him to the floor. The knife blade flashed. Sarah dove for her weapon. Her hands were so shaky she was barely able to hold on to the slick post. Light from the lone candle flickered. The two men rolled against the washstand, nearly upset it, then reversed directions and came back toward her, locked in a lethal embrace. Sarah’s stomach lurched as her foot slipped on the bloody puddle from the larger man’s head wound. She swallowed hard. She hadn’t meant to kill him, if in truth she had, but what was done was done. Her companion was fighting for his life. She couldn’t stop to worry about what had already transpired. Raising the post like a bat, she waited for just the right moment, then swung. A glancing blow caught the smaller man on the shoulder, careened off his right ear and ended up at his temple. Groaning and stunned, he fell back half-conscious and lay still. Pearce crawled free and got to his feet, his eyes wide. “I’ve never seen anything like what you just did. You’re either very good or very lucky.” Leaning against the wall to catch her breath, Sarah let the post slide out of her fingers. It dropped to the bare floor with a clank. She managed a feeble smile. “I played Rounders and One-o-Cat with my brothers,” she said. The knife-wielding man began to stir, distracting her. “We’d better hurry and tie him

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up. He’s lookin’ too lively.” “You rest. I’ll do it,” Pearce said, reaching for the strips of cloth they’d prepared for bindings. He made quick work of securing the man’s wrists, then picked up the knife, closed it, and stuck it in his pocket. He retrieved the first man’s pistol and wiped off the blood before he handed it to Sarah. “I don’t need this,” she said. “You keep it.” Pearce shook his head. “No. If we get separated, I want to know you can defend yourself. Put it in your coat pocket.” In spite of the ordeal they’d just been through she felt elated and a bit giddy. Thinking you were going to die must do that to a body, she decided. She looked at Pearce with as much composure as she could muster. “I could tote the bedpost, instead.” He laughed and nodded. “Judging from what I just saw, that would be enough.” Crossing to the larger man he tied his hands, too. Sarah watched. “He isn’t dead?” “No. I suspect he’ll have a headache, though.” She felt her knees start to give way and caught herself with a hand on the washstand. “Oh, thank the Lord.” Pearce started toward her, purpose in his step. Whatever else was to come, their current crisis had

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passed. Her gratitude was overpowering. Opening her arms, she embraced him without hesitation. To feel another’s beating heart, to share the safety of the moment, was wondrous. When he tried to release her she clung to him. “No. Please. Just a tad more.” “We—I—shouldn’t be...I’m sorry, I just...” Sarah raised her face to look into his eyes. “Don’t be sorry. I was sure we’d both be crossin’ the river Jordan by now. Since we aren’t, it seems fittin’ we celebrate. I don’t know about you, but I’m plumb glad to be alive.” Pearce blushed. “So am I. Come on. We’d better go before somebody gets curious about the noise and finds us here with these two.” Somber, he took her hand and led her out of the room. “You know, not long ago I was so mad that I’d been left alive and alone, I was wishing I were dead.” They started down the deserted hallway. Sarah squeezed his fingers. “I understand. I felt that way when Robert passed on.” “You were married?” “Robert was my brother. I loved him dearly.” They peered at the closed doors on both sides of the hall before turning the corner. “Were you ever married?” “In a way,” he replied quietly. “Before man, no. Before God, yes. The woman I loved wasn’t free to marry me.” Door hinges creaked. They froze, waiting. To their left, a dark, almond-shaped eye

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scrutinized them through a narrow opening. It blinked, then disappeared behind the silently closed door. They hurried to the end of the hall and slipped out into the strange city. Pearce’s hand was grasping Sarah’s so tightly her fingers were numb. It was obvious he needed to hold onto her as much as she needed the solace of his touch. Crouching low, he led her out of the alley. What she saw was truly fascinating. Small, dark shops with unreadable signs over the doors lined the narrow street. Scurrying, shuffling, little dark people were everywhere. The odd language Sarah had thought she’d dreamed about caught her attention. So, that was what Chinese sounded like! None of the Orientals looked up as they passed. It was as if she and Pearce, being so tall and so different, were invisible. He cast around, got his bearings, then started wending his way toward what she supposed was the town center. Sarah’s curiosity about him grew as she mulled over the confession he’d just made. “Your woman...,” she finally said, struggling to keep up with his long strides and also dodge the diminutive Chinese crossing her path. “Is she dead, like Robert?” “Yes.” “I’m sorry.”

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“So am I.” He squeezed her fingers. “But I have a son. You’ve seen him.” “I have?” “Yes. He’s with Miss McKay.” Sarah saw the pride in his smile. Of course. He had the baby’s yellow hair and blue eyes! There was a little resemblance in the way he held his mouth, too. “Moses?” “Yes. Moses is mine and Emma’s.” A softness came into his voice. “She was very beautiful.” Sarah concentrated on keeping the pace without slipping in the puddles of melted snow refreezing in the cold night air. She still felt safe with Pearce; safe and happy to be alive. But mighty plain and unattractive, too, after his comment about Emma’s beauty. A train whistled in the distance. Pearce moved even faster, making Sarah run to keep up. The events of the previous hours had taken their toll on her stamina. She slipped, falling to her knees with a sharp cry. “I’ve been thoughtless,” Pearce said, helping her up. “You’ve been through a lot more than I have.” He held out his arms. “May I carry you until I can hail a hack?” Suddenly shy, Sarah lowered her lashes and nodded. She wrapped her arms around his neck. He easily swung her off the ground, looped one arm beneath her knees and started walking again. Eyes closed, she hid her face against the front of his coat. Denver was certainly a long way from

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Topeka. And she was a far piece from the simple country girl she’d been a few weeks ago.

BRAX LEANED one elbow on the bar at Mama Glady’s as he watched Ruby from afar. Dapper young bloods from the commission house were buzzing around her like bees on a honey tree. Not that he blamed them. She’d surprised him good when he’d gone to fetch her. In her regular clothes she was pretty enough. In Pearl’s dress she was unforgettable. Feeling a lot more mellow than he had when he’d first come downstairs, he sighed and ordered up another shot of Three-star Hennessey. Even before Ruby had fixed herself up for the party, she’d been unforgettable. The woman had character. It wasn’t so bad that she was head-strong. It took someone like that to persevere and survive in the west. Kansas farming was different. Back in the eastern part of the state where Ruby had grown up, most women had the regular things they craved, like good neighbors, church meetings, parties, canning bees and the like. Hell, pretty soon Kansas City would probably even have electric cars on rails, like he’d read about in the Weekly Kansas Chief. Brax saw Ruby smile at a lean, dark-haired boy in a tightly tailored suit. Soon, the two of them were galloping across the floor together. Brax’s gut lurched. They made a right handsome couple. Dammit.

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Downing his drink, he meandered over to the upright piano in the back corner. Amos Greenberry was banging out a lively tune. Brax leaned nonchalantly against the high-backed instrument. Amos didn’t miss a lick. “Howdy.” “Amos.” Brax nodded politely. “I hear you’re leavin’.” “Tomorrow.” He waited until the song ended then asked, “Do you know how to play anything that doesn’t leave a fella all winded?” The old man smiled, seemingly unaware of the gaps caused by several missing front teeth. He wiped beads of sweat from his balding head with a rumpled bandanna. “I can play a few waltzes. Most of our ladies don’t like ‘em, though. They complain that the customers get too close for free.” Amos cackled at his own humor, took a sip from the glass of beer sitting on the top of the piano. “For two bits, I’d be willing to chance gettin’ ‘em mad.” Brax laughed. He slapped some coins down beside Amos’s beer. “Nice and slow, you hear.” Ruby was fanning her brow with a lace hanky and smiling at her slim companion when Brax approached. Removing his gray felt hat, holster and revolver, he handed them to the young man as if they were solid gold. “Here, son. Mind these for me, will you? The lady and I are gonna dance.” “We are?” Ruby looked up at him, wide-eyed. “Who says?”

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“I do.” Brax took her hand. “If you can dance with all these strangers, you sure as hell can dance with me. At least once.” “Mr. Rutledge! Watch your language.” Flashing her a wry grin, he bowed and faced her. “Yes, ma’am.” Smiling in return, she placed one hand lightly on his shoulder and took his left hand in her right. Amos had started to play. Brax stepped out smoothly. Ruby easily followed his lead. Leaning her head back, she gazed up at him. “I’m glad you’re over being mad at me.” “I never was,” he countered. “You gave a good impression of it.” Brax had to force himself to keep her at arms’ length. What he wanted to do was pull her tightly to his chest and kiss her for real, not the way he’d had to when he’d been stifling her screams. The thought made him falter. He missed a step, his boot grazed the tip of her shoe. “Sorry.” Ruby’s voice was tender as she asked, “Where is your son, now?” “In Ohio.” Looking into her eyes he saw no tears, much to his relief. That made it easier to continue. “Is he well?” Brax swept her around the floor in a graceful arc. “If he wasn’t, I’d have heard. The boy’s with my wife’s parents. They’re good people. It’s for the best. I travel too much to be anybody’s papa.” He felt

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her hand briefly caress his shoulder and he almost embraced her then and there, propriety be hanged. “You’re a good man, too, Braxton Rutledge. If you had a decent home to raise the boy in, I’m sure he’d be just as well off with you.” “You mean that, don’t you?” “Of course I do.” She licked her lips, the innocent action making Brax’s arms tighten around her of their own will. It surprised him that she didn’t resist or pull away. Instead, she slipped her hand higher on his shoulder and smiled. “I shall miss you,” she whispered. “It’s for the best.” Ruby nodded. “Yes.” She smiled more sweetly. “You and I are very much alike in that respect, you know. We try hard to do what’s best. Sometimes, that’s a most difficult decision to make.” The waltz ended. He escorted her back to where he’d left his hat and pistol. The gray felt rested securely on a table, the gun belt coiled neatly next to it. Ruby picked up the hat and held it for him as he strapped on his belt and tied down the holster. “Thank you for the turn around the floor, sir,” she said. “You’re quite a good dancer.” “It’s like most skills.” He couldn’t help thinking of his short interlude with Pearl. “Once learned, it

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comes back pretty quick...with a little practice.” A train’s whistle sounded in the distance. Brax saw Ruby stiffen, her smile fade. A frightened look passed across her face as she turned and walked away. Poor thing. She must really be dreading their upcoming trip. He watched her hike her skirts and start up the stairs. By the time she reached the landing, she was running. Convinced that he was the cause of Ruby’s distress, Brax felt lower than a snake’s belly. He wandered back to the piano to talk to Amos and thank him for the waltz. “Glad to do it,” the piano player said. “It made an old man’s heart glad to see you paradin’ that gal like you done.” “She’s quite a woman.” Brax leaned on the piano. “So’s your Tillie. When are you two gettin’ married?” “Married? Me and Tillie?” Amos choked, coughed and grabbed another swallow of his warm beer. Brax’s eyebrows creased together in a scowl. “She said she couldn’t go with Ruby and me ‘cause you and she were gettin’ married.” “That’s a damn lie,” Amos said. “But with Tillie you never know. Hell, man, she might even believe it.” “I thought she was getting better.” Brax absently stared at the place on the stairs where he’d last seen

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Ruby. “Tillie’s a funny one,” Amos said solemnly. “She ain’t what she seems most of the time.” The back of Brax’s neck began to prickle under his long hair. Ruby had run away when they’d heard the train whistle. He’d laid the cause to her upcoming journey because he’d assumed she was afraid of making it on his terms. Suppose her fright was on account of something else? If Tillie wasn’t getting married after all, why had she refused to travel with them? Knowing how the girl loved that baby, the whole lie made no sense. Unless.... Sprinting across the floor, Brax bolted up the stairs. The door to Tillie’s room stood ajar. He pushed it farther open. The room was empty. Cursing under his breath, he went looking for Ruby. He didn’t have to go far. Straight-arming the door to her room, he caught her dressed in nothing but her camisole, corset and petticoats. On the bed lay her traveling dress. The guilty look on her face told him what she’d done—or tried to do. “She’s left you behind, hasn’t she?” Brax barked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Ruby snatched the Basque of her brown wool dress from the bed and held it to her chest, covering herself. “I simply got tired of dancing and came up here to rest.” “And to change so you could sneak off?” “Don’t be ridiculous.” She stared at him haughtily. “If you’ll be good enough to leave, I’d like to get

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ready for bed, now.” “Go ahead.” The brim of his hat covered his forehead. He watched her through heavy-lidded eyes. “Good night, then.” “Good night.” Brax seated himself in the chair, propped his boots on the end of the bedstead and leaned back, his arms folded across his chest. Ruby was as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rockers. It wouldn’t be long till the truth spilled out. He could wait. “Leave me alone!” “Not a chance,” he said calmly. “You just go right to bed, Miss Ruby. You made a lot of admirers downstairs, tonight. I’ll keep watch in case one of ‘em decides to sneak up here and bother you.” “I’ll be fine by myself, I assure you.” He arose and lazily stretched. “Maybe you’re right. I’ll just trot next door and check on little Moses, then I’ll turn in. We’ve got a long day, tomorrow.” “No!” Brax saw the end of her deception coming. If what he suspected was true, the longer they delayed, the greater the chance Tillie would get away. Watching Ruby’s inner struggles, he actually felt sorry for her in spite of the way she’d lied to him. “Why, ma’am?” he drawled. “Is there something wrong?”

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“Yes.” She tossed the Basque aside, pulled the skirt over her head, and fastened the hooks at the waist. “We have to hurry.” “Hurry? Why?” “You know darned well why, Brax Rutledge, or you wouldn’t have that smug look on your face.” Slipping her arms into the Basque she began to button it. “When did Tillie leave?” His rancor was undisguised. “I don’t know.” “But you did set it up.” Ruby practically screamed, “Yes! Yes! Now get your coat and help me catch her.” He moved toward the door. “What was your plan? Or should I wait to be surprised?” Brushing past him, she put on her coat as she headed for the door. “Tillie was supposed to take Moses to the train and signal me to join her.” “You were leaving me behind?” “Yes.” Ruby paused long enough to look up at him, her eyes pleading. “It was what I thought was right.” Giving that reasoning some consideration, he stepped aside to let her pass. Damn it all. In her place, feeling the way he knew she did, he’d have done the same.

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Resolved to help her salvage the situation, he followed. “All right. I’m a damned fool but I’ll come. Gather up all your things in case we have to jump aboard the train. I’ll get my horse.” Ruby stared back at him, her eyes wide, their blue nearly lavender. “I have no things, Mr. Rutledge. Nor money. Tillie has it all.” “Everything?” He saw her nod. His heart sank. It was bad enough to be traveling in the west with a baby. Penniless, Ruby had no chance at all of survival. Judging by the terrified look on her face, she knew it.

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Chapter 14 IT HAD taken Nancy by surprised when Nellie had burst into her bedroom. In tears, the girl told of her abuse at the hands of Judge Stone. Nancy’s first reaction had been that of any good mother protecting her young. She felt Nellie needed sanctuary, above all. “Take this letter to Mr. Rias Wills,” Nancy said, handing a hastily scribbled note to the girl. “It will introduce you.” “Who is this man you’re sending me to?” Nellie was trembling. “Can I trust him?” “You can trust Rias with your life,” Nancy said. “I want you out of this house and out of Kansas City until Caleb Stone is no more.” “How do you know that will ever come to pass?” “It will,” Nancy said. She was merciless. “If I have to kill him myself.” “Oh, Mama, no!” Nellie threw her arms around her mother and wept. Nancy held her close to comfort her, then set her away, her decision steadfast. “Hush. Now listen to me. I don’t want your father to know where you’ve gone. You’ll have to walk, at least till you’re out of

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the city and across the toll bridge. Take care. It’s a long way.” She handed the girl a hastily drawn map. “Even if the bookstore is closed for the day when you arrive, knock until Mr. Wills answers. He lives above and he’ll find you some decent woman to board with.” “I understand.” The girl gave her mother a tight hug. “But you still haven’t told me how you came to know him. Is he kin?” “No, dear,” Nancy said, smiling slightly. “But he might have been. If my mother had been a stronger woman and stood up to my father, I might very well have married Rias Wills.” “Mother!” “Don’t look so shocked. I was once quite pretty.” “Oh, Mama, you still are. I just never dreamed...” Nancy lowered her voice, her tone somber. “I was visiting Rias the afternoon your baby brother decided it was time to be born, rest his soul. Your father suspects the worst, but Rias and I are just old friends. That’s all. I swear.” She glanced at the letter in Nellie’s hand. “Guard that well. Give it only to him.” “I will. I promise.” Tears filled the girl’s eyes. “Enough weeping,” Nancy said. “Save your grieving for sad times.” “But this is,” she insisted with a sniffle.

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“No. This is a time for joy. I have my dear daughter back, safe and well, and she’s about to embark on a great adventure.” “You’re sure Mr. Wills will hire me? My schooling may be lacking.” “Nonsense. Ruby McKay was your teacher. There’s none better. Rias Wills will be impressed, I’m sure.” Nellie held tight to her mother’s hand. “I should stay here and look after you. You’re still not strong.” “My strength’ll come back,” Nancy insisted. “Just knowing you’re safe will heal me faster than any tonic.” “Still no new word from Pearce?” “No. But I know in my heart he’s well. My children are sheltered under the Lord’s wings.” “Even in Denver, where Pearce is?” “In Denver, Missouri or wherever,” Nancy replied. “I feel it in my bones.”

LULLED BY the rocking motion of the westbound train, Sarah sat back and managed to relax. Pearce had been dozing for miles. Asleep, he looked angelic and very young. Funny how his size belied his age.

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There were times when he did seem childlike. Other times, like when he’d carried her through the slippery streets so effortlessly, he’d seemed much older than twenty years. She blushed and turned to stare out the window. Pearce Hocker was a man, all right. He’d already fathered a beautiful baby. Embarrassed by the turn her thoughts had taken, she nevertheless peeked over at him once again. He was bigger and taller than Mr. Gage, the clerk from the hotel. And his features were less dainty. Had she not met Pearce, she might never have noticed how frail poor Mr. Gage seemed by comparison. Of course, he was still a fine man, Sarah told herself. Mighty fine. And solicitous to a fault. Maybe that was part of the problem. As a farm girl, she wasn’t used to gentlemen being so polite and reserved toward her. Why, if she’d vomited in Mr. Gage’s presence, he’d probably have been revolted instead of helping her the way Mr. Hocker had. She could still feel his hand on her back, stroking gently, while she did the dirty deed. Truth to tell, it was probably better that she’d not known Pearce Hocker at the time. Being sick in front of a stranger was better than doing such an awful thing in the presence of a beau. Pearce stirred. Opening his eyes he smiled languidly. “Sorry. Guess I’m not much company.” “I don’t mind.” His smile grew. He reached for her hand, turning it over in his palm. “You know, I can still see you

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standing behind that door, ready to do battle for me. It’s hard to believe these hands did all that.” “We fought together.” She lowered her gaze while her heart swelled with pride. “So, we did.” “Do you think we got clean away?” “Probably. Whoever their boss is, he probably won’t find those men for a while. I’m glad they were hiding us in the Chinese quarter. Chances are very good that no one there will answer any questions about us.” Sarah lifted her eyes to look boldly into his face. “I still don’t see the advantage of headin’ out to the Territories like this.” “Where we go is less important than the act of escape,” he explained. “They’ll look for me in Denver, and probably expect you to go back to Topeka. Our best chance is to be in neither place.” “That makes sense.” He closed his warm fingers around her smaller hand. “I know you’re upset about leaving your job. I promise I’ll not interfere if you want to go back, later.” Smiling, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “In the mean time, I’ll look after you. You can think of me as the brother you lost.” Sarah’s immediate reaction was a wish to counter with a willingness to take the place of the lady love he’d lost, instead. She felt her cheeks flame. The last thing she wanted was for Pearce Hocker to think of

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her as his sister.

GLADYS, HER girls, and most of the men were gathered by the saloon door to watch Brax mount his big sorrel gelding and pull Ruby up behind him. “Hang on!” he shouted, kicking the horse hard. Ruby wrapped her arms around his waist. The bulk of his sheepskin jacket was so great she couldn’t reach all the way around him. Without stirrups, her seat was tenuous at best. The train whistle sounded forlorn in the distance. Ruby prayed silently for the Almighty’s help as she bounced into the air for the hundredth time and came down hard to glance off the cantle at the rear of the saddle. It didn’t matter that the Denver & Rio Grande depot was farther down the road than the Santa Fe. They would make it in time to catch Tillie. They had to. Clinging for dear life, she felt the horse finally slow. She peeked out from behind Brax’s broad back. “Are we there? Do you see her?” He turned their mount so she, too, could see the narrow-gauge tracks and the depot platform. “It’s too late. The train’s gone.” “No! Well, catch it. Go on. We can do it.”

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“Even on a horse as good as mine, I couldn’t catch that train, now,” he told her flatly. “Riding double, there’s no chance in hell.” “Then get off.” She began to push at his back. “I’ll do it alone.” He sat firm. “No, you won’t. All you’d do is kill this poor animal and get yourself stranded in the snow and ice at the top of the mountain. I could ride the morning train and pick you up, only by then you’d probably have frozen to death.” Laying the reins against the side of the sorrel’s neck, he turned it and started back the way they’d come. “But, Moses!” “Tillie loves him,” Brax said. “He’ll be fine.” Ruby knew he was right. It was idiotic to attempt the impossible. With a whimper she sagged limply against Brax’s back and lay her cheek at his shoulder. He found her hand and grasped it. Her fingers were icy. “I’ll take you back to your room.” “No, please. Can’t we ride a bit more? I don’t want to face everyone just yet.” “It’s me you should worry about facing.” “I know.” Ruby pressed her body closer to draw on his strength. Tillie’s flight was all her fault. In subverting Brax’s plans, the groundwork had been laid for the trials to come. Yet what choice had he left

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her? Gathering her courage, Ruby spoke. “I couldn’t let you take us to the law. I need to be free to make Stone pay for what he’s done.” She felt Brax sigh. “And you’ll run again, the first chance you get, won’t you?” “I have to.” He brought the horse to a stop. “Get down.” “Are you going to leave me here?” “No. Just do as I say and climb down.” He held out his arm for her to grab onto, gently lowered her to the ground, then reached out, again. “Come on. Up in front.” He kicked out of his stirrup. Ruby put her foot on his boot and took his hand. As he drew her across his lap she settled into the crook of his other arm. “You’re cold,” he said. “Slip your hands inside my coat.” She did as she was told. His body heat was comforting, though not as intense as the glow that had begun to warm her from within. The fingers of her right hand found his ribs through his shirt and began to slowly trace their contours. Feeling his muscles tense, she looked up. Without her realizing it, Ruby’s lips softened. Brax dipped his head, lowered his mouth to meet hers. The frost on his mustache tingled against her face.

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Pulling away, he shuddered. “God help me. You are the most troublesome woman I’ve ever met.” The kiss had happened so fast, so naturally, Ruby hadn’t had time to decide what her proper reaction should be. Now that he’d pulled away, she had no doubt that she was about to do something very improper. Moses was gone—everyone she’d loved was gone—and she’d never felt more alone in all her days. She needed Brax. Desperately. “God help me, too,” she countered. Withdrawing her hand from his coat she slid it behind his neck to pull his head down again. Parting her lips, she returned his kiss with a eagerness she’d never dreamed possible. The horse shifted. Brax dropped the reins. Held her so tightly she was breathless. Ruby’s emotions surged and peaked till she wondered if she might expire from an excess of pleasure. What she was doing was wanton and wrong. Yet nowhere in her heart or soul was there any desire to stop. The more glorious feelings she let herself experience, the more she knew there must be. Ruby let go of the last of her reservations, gave herself over completely to Brax and his kisses. If this was passion, she finally understood why Emma and Pearce had sinned.

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THE TEMPERATURES in Denver had dipped so low, the blood from the shorter kidnapper’s scalp wound had frozen his hair into a gummy mat beneath the bandage which covered his swollen, mangled ear. The man called “Smith” puffed the icy air, rubbed his hands together for warmth, and nervously faced the formidable gent who had hired him and his partner. Caleb Stone was livid. Looking from side to side to make sure they weren’t being observed, he grasped the scarf around the little man’s neck and shook him the way a cat worries the life out of a mouse. “Talk, you idiot. You’re sure they’re still together?” Smith winced. He clapped a hand over his sore ear to protect it. “Ow! That’s what the station master said.” “And you let me come all the way out here for nothing?” “I was too busy to telegraph. Friend, Brown, was busy, too. Busy dyin’. I kept callin’ for a doc. The damned Chinese couldn’t understand a word I said.” “What about Ellis?” Caleb asked. “How much did you tell him?” Snorting, the man said, “Not much. I let him think it was Ruby McKay what hit me with the bedpost and busted Brown’s head. He’s so damned mad he’s gettin’ into it hisself. For all I know, he’s already here in Colorado.”

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Casting him aside, Caleb began to pace. “What about the rest of the men working with him?” “I don’t know for sure. My guess is, they’re probably ridin’ the trains and checkin’ hotels and the like. That’s the way Ellis works.” Caleb cradled his bandaged arm. The fast trip to Denver on the main line of the Kansas Pacific had tried him sorely. He could feel his strength ebbing. A woman was what he needed. Thanks to the bungling of the kidnappers he’d hired, however, he had no time to dally with skirts. “You say the girl and Pearce Hocker bought tickets. Where were they bound?” The man hedged. “If I was to tell you, what would the information be worth?” “Your pitiful life,” Caleb spat. Using his good hand he knocked him against the wall in the filthy alley. “Down here in Chinatown, no one would care if I killed you where you stand.” “Th—that’s why we hid ‘em here,” he stammered, his eyes wide with fright. “So’s nobody would bother us.” “I’m impressed.” Caleb closed his hand around the man’s scrawny neck. “Which train?” “The Denver & Rio Grande. Goin’ south. You think they’ll ride ‘er as far as she goes?” “Your guess is as good as mine,” Caleb said. “And since your boss is hot on the trail, too, I won’t be needing your special services, anymore.” The man tried to pry loose Caleb’s iron grip. “All right. I’m gone. You’ll never see or hear from me

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again. I swear.” “I know I won’t.” Lifting him off the ground, Caleb pinned him against the wall with his body and squeezed his throat till all resistance ceased. He hoisted the limp body higher and quickly slammed it down, its head wedged tightly between the wall and the frozen ground. The snap of the thin neck echoed like a dry tree branch cracking in the pristine quiet of a forest. Dusting invisible filth from his leather glove, Caleb straightened, smiled to himself, and started for the depot.

BRAX STOPPED his horse behind Gladys’s. He dismounted, then reached for Ruby’s waist and lifted her down. “We’ll use the kitchen door.” She took his hand and followed. Outside, she was freezing. Inside, where the fire raged in her soul, she was being consumed by the flames of newly-discovered passions. It was frightening and wonderful at the same time. Though Moses was still in the forefront of her consciousness, she needed desperately to be with Brax. It was as if, by doing so, she might somehow find a brief release from worry. Might steal a few moments to pretend she was safe and looking forward to long life, a sweet future.

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Ruby trailed behind as he led her through the kitchen, past the pantry and up a short flight of stairs. It ended at a door leading onto the landing of the main staircase. When she saw Brax tense and silently ease through the doorway, she followed suit. The levity in the dance hall below continued, although more hushed than usual. Her hasty departure must have put a damper on the party. She thought about the other girls; Pearl, Flora and the rest. Were they any worse sinners for what they did than she was for wishing retribution on Caleb Stone? The girls at Gladys’s were honest about their actions. In that way, they were more ethical than she was. No one else knew of her plan to see Stone hang for the murder recounted in Emma’s diary. She’d kept that sensitive information to herself. If she were to tell anyone the whole truth, it would be Brax. Then again, he’d probably abandon her on the spot if he knew about her perilous plans. Ruby’s conscience lurched. How could she take him to her in the truest sense and not be honest with him, first? She noticed they’d halted in front of her room. It would be wrong to let things go any further until she’d confessed. That was only fair. Then, if he still wanted to be with her, she was more than willing. In coming days she’d be in great danger. Her life was apt to be over in a wink. She might never know the wonders of a man’s love if she didn’t learn of them with Brax. He would make her a woman. It was that

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simple. Brax tilted her face up, gently cupped her cheeks, placed a brief kiss on her forehead. “We must talk, first,” she whispered. “No talk, sweet Ruby.” His voice was heavy with desire. “I can’t be responsible if we stay together.” “But...” Impossible as it seemed, he was planning to leave her! Trembling, she raised on tiptoe and slipped her arms around his neck, trying to recall some of the coarse instruction about pleasing a man that Tillie had insisted on imparting. Their thick coats kept them apart. Ruby wanted to rip hers off and throw it to the ground so she could open Brax’s jacket and slip inside where his heart beat fast, where his warmth could make her feel safe and wanted. Closing his hands around her wrists, Brax disengaged them. Sad determination filled his eyes. “No. You don’t know what you’re doing. You’re overwrought about the baby. Tomorrow, you’d be sorry.” “No. No, I wouldn’t.” It shamed her to plead with him but every dram of her life’s blood insisted. Brax sighed, gazed down into her upturned face. “You don’t know what you’re asking.” “Yes, I do. I’ve read all about it. I know exactly...” The derision in his laugh brought her up short. “So, you’ve read a book, have you little teacher? And that makes it all right?” Stepping away, he glared at her. “You haven’t the slightest idea what it would

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mean to me to take you to bed.” “I care for you,” she said, her explanation barely audible. “That’s part of the problem.” Removing his hat, Brax held it between them like a barricade. Ignoring the tears filling her eyes she pressed on, intent on understanding what had happened to abruptly change his mind. The rejection hurt so much she was no longer rational. Nor did she care to be. “You went to Pearl,” she reminded him. “Am I so much less attractive that you can’t bear the thought of bedding me?” Standing there, trembling and defiant, Ruby watched his reaction. She thought for a moment he might strike out at her in anger. “Bedding you?” Brax hissed. “If that’s all you want, I’m sure there are a dozen men downstairs who would be glad to oblige.” He grasped her shoulders. “If I go to bed with you, Miss McKay, it will be because I want you to belong to me. The joining of our bodies will be the joining of our souls, as well. That’s how it is when a man and a woman care for each other. Once done, there’s no undoing it. Even death doesn’t end it. Do you understand?” “I don’t know.” She brushed aside the tears that had begun to trickle down her cheeks. “No, you don’t. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.” Stepping back, he put more distance between them. “I knew when I kissed you that I didn’t dare take it any farther, for both our sakes.” Ruby’s pride disappeared altogether. Brax’s words washed it away like the spring floods carried off

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the soft banks of a river. “If I were a whore, would you come to me?” she asked in a whisper. “If you were a whore,” Brax replied, gritting his teeth and taking a shaky breath, “we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” Ruby watched him start to reach for her. She closed her eyes in the hope he would relent, would hold her in his arms once more. He didn’t. When she heard footsteps she opened her eyes. He had turned and was striding quickly down the hall. Passing his own room, he paused at Pearl’s, then opened the door and went in, slamming it behind him.

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Chapter 15 TILLIE got off the train at the end of the line in El Moro. At her side was a young cowhand she’d known for only a few hours. She’d told him she was an heiress, trying to reclaim her lost fortune for the sake of her baby. Which was true. Once she sold the McKay farm, as was her right since she’d taken Ruby’s place, she’d be rich. The slightly-built young man with her had introduced himself as Henry McCarty and they’d taken to each other instantly. He’d told her he’d been working for a sheep rancher named Tunstall, down on the Pecos near Roswell, until the man got himself killed. Henry was on his way back there to join a posse looking for the killers. Tillie cradled Moses while Henry toted Ruby’s traveling bag and a well-worn grip that had once belonged to Tillie’s mother. The town was much larger and busier than she’d imagined it would be. She twirled around, trying to take it all in at once. “Hoo, whee! Look at this place.” Henry laughed. “Between El Moro being the end of the railroad line and Colorado being a new state, I guess folks did get a might carried away. A lot of ‘em will pack up, buildings and all, and move on when the line extends.”

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Pointing to a large, frame structure she read the sign. “Look. That there’s the New State Hotel, and next door is the New State Saloon.” Proud of her ability to read, she continued. “And a drug store, a barber shop...” She paused and pointed. “I can’t tell that one. What’s it say?” “Look in the window and you’ll see,” he said. “That’s Blackwood’s Butcher Shop.” “Oh.” She couldn’t contain her excitement. “Where are we goin’, now?” “George Close’s Dance Hall. I got business there.” He slowed his pace. “I can take you over to Mrs. McDowell’s to board, first, if you want.” Tillie shrugged. “No need. I seen saloons before.” “No doubt,” McCarty said, chuckling. “I’m a lady,” Tillie insisted. “From Kansas City, too.” “So you told me. I just don’t know if it’s right takin’ a baby into a place like Close’s.” “In Pueblo, we lived in a dance hall when I got sick. I’m used to it. So’s Moses.” “All right.” Turning the corner off Main Street, he elbowed the door open. Loud, happy-sounding music greeted them, making Tillie feel at home. Her companion was welcomed immediately. Tillie stayed in the background, rocked Moses, smiled and listened. The most confusing thing was that the men had called her new friend by a different name than the one he’d given her. “Brewer, Widenmann, Martinez,” he said, shaking hands with each of them in turn and clapping them

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on the back. “Where’s Wilson?” Widenmann, an enormous giant of a man, grinned broadly and pointed to the silver-colored badge pinned to his vest. “When Governor Axtell tried to tell me I wasn’t no U.S. Marshall no more, he took away Wilson’s appointment as judge, too. Wilson’s so het up about it he’s gone to Santa Fe to holler.” Widenmann laughed. “We figured we’d best wait here for you.” “Has there been more trouble? More fighting?” “Naw. I went to Fort Stanton to see what was goin’ on over there. They got a new commanding officer, name of Dudley, but them army boys is still in Murphy’s pocket. They even fed their horses with hay from Tunstall’s store, just like they owned the place. Nobody paid nothin’.” “And the Regulators?” Henry asked. “Us?” “No, the other bunch.” “They been fairly quiet, for vigilantes. Haven’t bothered to chase us, lately. ‘Course, that could change if Wilson gets to be judge, again, and they start worryin’ about us coming after ‘em for killin’ Tunstall.” The big German pressed a glass of beer into his friend’s hand. “Drink up, Bill. We can’t stay here. We got ridin’ to do.” Pausing, McCarty turned to acknowledge Tillie. “These are the friends I told you about, Miss

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McKay,” he said, removing his hat and elbowing the others till they followed suit. “I’ll be going with them.” She’d listened carefully to the men’s conversation. Although she didn’t understand all of it, she didn’t much like the parts she’d figured out. “You said you’d take me along. You promised. I can’t ride with a baby. Leastwise, not fast.” “I know.” Setting down his drink he took her arm and led her aside. “You’ll have to follow us by stage. It’s about a hundred fifty miles to The Meadows—that’s Las Vegas, in Mex talk. You can wait for me there.” “Why wait? I thought you said you knew a smart lawyer who could help me get hold of my fortune.” “I do. Problem is, Lawyer McSween’s got troubles of his own to take care of right now.” He stepped back, his hands on the double cartridge belts slung around his waist. “Murphy’s people have been after him ever since he got the job of settlin’ up Tunstall’s estate. There’s a lot of money. Government beef contracts, too. Me and my friends are going to Lincoln to help him out. Keep things fair. When the fighting’s all over, you can come ahead.” “How will I know when that is?” Moses began to fuss. Tillie jiggled him to quiet him down. “You showed me you can read. Watch for news in the Mesilla Independent. Their office used to be in Lincoln but the editor got himself shot, so his partners moved the paper out of town.”

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Confused, Tillie nodded. “There’s so much to remember.” “You’ll do fine. Just wait in Las Vegas. I’ll get in touch.” “But...” One nagging question remained. “You said your name was Henry McCarty. I just heard your friends call you something else. Which is it?” “My step-father’s name was McCarty,” he said. “I also go by William Antrim. My grandmother’s name was Bonney.” “If I was to ask for you, what should I call you? “In the Territories, I mostly go by William Bonney,” he said. “My friends call me Billy.”

SARAH WAS tired. Pearce had slept, on and off, while the train clattered along but she’d been too nervous to do the same. They’d reached Pueblo just past daybreak. Besides being stiff and sore from the hard, unyielding seats, she was ravenously hungry. When the conductor announced they’d be stopping long enough to stretch their legs and get a bite to eat, she shook Pearce to wake him. “Come on, sleepy-head. Up you come.” He opened one eye and peered at her. “Ugh. A cheerful woman in the morning. The bane of man.” Sarah giggled. “I’ll show you who’s a bane, whatever that is, you lazy bones. We got no time to

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waste if you want to eat.” “Eat?” His countenance brightened. “I thought that would interest you. I’m so hungry my stomach thinks my throat’s cut.” He made a disgusted face. “Suddenly I’m not hungry.” “I’m sorry.” Sarah stared at her hands. “My granny always used to say that. I didn’t mean to offend you none.” “I was joking with you, Sarah. Nothing you do could offend me. We’re friends, remember? Brother and sister.” He took her arm and helped her to her feet, straightening her collar for her and brushing dust off her coat sleeve. “Do you have real ones? Brothers and sisters, I mean.” “Yes. I’m the oldest. There are two other boys, three girls, and another on the way.” “Your mother must be a wonder.” “She is.” As they inched their way down the narrow aisle between the rows, Sarah stared up at Pearce’s fair hair and admired the sure way he carried himself. Since they’d met, he seemed to have gained assurance. For one thing, he was no longer looking to her for advice on how to proceed. She preferred following his lead. There was something comforting about being able to settle back and let a clever man take charge.

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Smiling, Sarah noticed how she’d begun to see Pearce as a man instead of a boy. She had to hurry to keep up with his longer strides. It seemed she was forever running a step or two behind him. He jumped down from the train, turned, and put out his hands to lift her to the ground. Sarah didn’t hesitate to grasp his shoulders to steady herself. After all, she reasoned, she didn’t want to take a tumble in the mud. It was bad enough to be caught in the middle of nowhere, penniless, without looking the part, as well. Once she had a good footing and he’d released her, she tried to tuck loose wisps of hair back into the twisted coil at the nape of her neck. Judging from the ratted way her hair felt, the task was hopeless. “Oh, dear. If only I had a brush. It feels like half my pins are gone.” “You look splendid.” “Liar.” Her voice was firm but pleasant. “A looking glass would be nice, too.” “Your wish is my command,” Pearce said. Grasping her at the waist once again, he hoisted her up, her chin even with the window of the railroad car. “There. Can you see yourself?” “Oh!” His abrupt action had both startled and thrilled her. She was sure it must be improper to allow him to toss her around like that but the last thing she wanted was for him to put her down and let go. “Well?” Pearce asked. “I can’t keep this up too long.” She was about to reiterate the hopelessness of her appearance when she spied a second reflection in the

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glass. The image stole her breath away more than Pearce’s touch already had. It couldn’t be Ruby—yet it certainly looked like her. No two women had hair like that or.... Wiggling, she said, “Pearce, quick! Put me down!” “What’s the matter?” “It’s Ruby. Look!” Sarah twisted to point past his shoulder. The shocked expression on his face confirmed what she’d suspected. “Oh, my God,” he said, nearly dropping the girl as he lowered her. “It is!” His glance centered on a big cowhand in a gray felt hat. “Who’s that with her?” Frowning, Sarah tried to recall where she might have seen the man before. She’d swear they had never met. Unless... Unless she pictured Ruby’s companion with a full beard. Of course! It was the man from Topeka! Trembling, she grabbed Pearce’s sleeve. “He’s the one who took me to Stone. The one I told you about. Oh, Lordy, I hope I didn’t do the wrong thing by helpin’ him.” “We’ll know soon enough.” Pearce never took his eyes off Ruby. “Give me the pistol.” “You’re not going to face him down! You can’t. He’s armed!” Holding tighter, she refused to release him. “How else would you suggest?”

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Sarah could see she’d have to think fast or Pearce would put himself in terrible danger. “I’ll go. Ruby knows me and so does he. They won’t suspect you’re here, too.” The more she babbled, the more clever her plan sounded. “You lay back with the pistol. I’ll signal you if Ruby’s all right. If not, you can sneak up and take him by surprise.” “I don’t know.” Covering her hand, Pearce gave it a squeeze. “I’ll worry about you.” “That man trusted me good, once. No reason to think he’d do less, now.” “I still don’t like it.” “Suit yourself,” Sarah said. Pulling free she thrust the pistol into his outreached hand, whirled, and ducked into the crowd.

PEARCE stood transfixed, watching her go. Quite a woman, he told himself for the ninth or tenth time since he’d met her. Oh, Sarah had a few rough edges. Who didn’t? Just because she hadn’t been educated as well as he had didn’t mean she wasn’t intelligent, though. Pearce was reminded of his mother’s repeated comments about having a brain under her bonnet. Sarah Kussner certainly had that—and more. Plus, he admired her courage. He saw recognition spring to Ruby’s eyes as Sarah threw her arms around her. The man stepped back, watching the two women embrace. Pearce could see their shoulders

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shaking. He had no doubt they were shedding happy tears together. He tensed. The man took hold of Ruby’s arm again, gestured toward the train. Sarah reached between them. The hiss of the steam escaping from the engine’s boilers and fittings was too loud for Pearce to overhear what she was saying. His hand gripped the pistol. His finger slipped through the trigger guard. His thumb rested on the hammer. As soon as he saw the man jostle Sarah, he moved. Circling so that Ruby wouldn’t spot him and inadvertently give him away, he came up behind the threesome and pressed the muzzle of the pistol into the man’s ribs. “Let the women go,” Pearce ordered. “Now.” “What the...” Brax whirled, his reflexes taking over. One hand deflected the gun as Pearce fired. The bullet passed through the top of Brax’s boot, nipped his calf, and lodged in the thick planks of the wooden platform. The surrounding crowd dissipated like smoke in a stiff wind. Brax grabbed at his leg. “Son of a...” Pearce raised the muzzle to fire again. Both Ruby and Sarah threw themselves between the pistol and the wounded man. “No!” Ruby screamed. “He’s a friend. Don’t!” Pearce looked to Sarah. She nodded. “It’s true. You didn’t give me a chance to tell you.”

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“When he pushed you, I thought...” Blushing, Pearce turned his attention to Ruby. She was bending over her companion, steadying him, as he attempted to remove his boot. “Mr. Rutledge was just explaining how they had to be on this train,” Sarah told him. “Somebody else has made off with the baby.” All the fight went out of Pearce. “How? When?” “I trusted the wrong person,” Ruby said, straightening. She let Brax lean on her, slid her arm around his waist. “Put that gun away, Pearce. Sarah, you help me get Mr. Rutledge back to Gladys’s.” “No,” Brax argued. “We have to be on that train. I’ll be all right.” “Nonsense. You’re bleeding like a stuck pig,” Ruby said. “We’ll get your horse off and leave it behind for you.” She directed her attention to the flushed young gladiator who’d tried to save her, albeit from the wrong enemy. “Pearce, you see to Brax’s horse. It’s in the last car. Tell them Mr. Rutledge has changed his mind about going.” Brax leaned over to survey the damage again. “He did do me, didn’t he?” “I’m real sorry,” Pearce said. “Yeah, me too.” Brax turned to Ruby. “I don’t want you to go alone.” “I won’t. Sarah and Pearce will be with me.” “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

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“Well, you sure can’t travel like you are. Not and be worth a plug nickel when we do find Tillie.” Brax’s pain was not as clearly defined as his righteous anger. “I see. Now that you’ve got your friends, you don’t need me anymore. Is that it?” “Why you conceited...” Stamping one foot, Ruby faced him, hands on her hips. “I’m not the question here and you know it. Moses is getting farther and farther away all the time. What would you have me do, stay and nurse you?” “Of course not.” “What, then? Drag you along till you bleed to death and then bury you? Enough people have died already.” Pearce had never seen his old teacher so adamant or so outspoken. The change in her fascinated him. Open-mouthed, he watched the exchange between Ruby and the rough-looking rancher, wondering who was going to back down first. It was the man. “All right. This has certainly worked out to your advantage, hasn’t it? You get rid of me and my ideas of justice, and gain new traveling companions at the same time.” Brax’s shoulders slumped. “I give up.” Ruby resumed her place by his side and motioned Sarah to the other. “That’s better. We have nearly an hour to spare, according to the railroad time-table. That should be plenty long enough to get back here

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after we deliver you to Pearl on a silver platter.” She glanced up. Pearce hadn’t moved. “The horse, Mr. Hocker. You can leave it at the stable by the hotel. He’ll need it when he’s well.” “Will you and Sarah...Miss Kussner, be all right?” Pearce wasn’t going anywhere till he was sure. Grumbling and grimacing in pain, Brax shot him a disgusted glance. “Listen to the lady and go get the horse, boy. Thanks to you, I’m in no shape to ravage beautiful women this morning.” “He never is,” Ruby added cynically. She lowered her eyes as they started back toward the depot. “Unless they’re whores.” Pearce couldn’t believe his ears. He shook his head. The noise from the engine must have distorted her words somehow, made them sound different. He shrugged. That was what must have happened. Miss McKay would never speak of such vulgar things. She was a lady.

LIMPING and cursing under his breath, Brax had managed to board the D&RG three days later. Pearl had wanted him to stay longer but the doctor had told him the wound was clean. He’d drawn a silk handkerchief through it, just to be sure, and pronounced him out of danger. Staying behind in Pueblo while Ruby went God-knows-where, had driven Brax crazy. He tried to convince himself he didn’t care what happened to her. Why should he? She’d made it real clear she didn’t

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need any more of his help. Fine. Let her and her friends traipse all over the southwest. He was through worrying about things that didn’t concern him. He needed to go home. It was coming on calving season so there’d be plenty to do. All the way to El Moro he’d kept trying to get Ruby and her problems off his mind. It had occurred to him he’d probably never hear from her again. She’d be too smart to chance giving herself away by contacting anyone she’d known in the past. Brax was disgusted with himself for not thinking to suggest they set up a way of safely communicating. She could have used a false name, or a code, to at least let him know she was all right. The Union messengers had done that in the Rebellion when they’d heard the South was going to try to take Glorietta Pass and block the Santa Fe trail. Brax had been a young drover back then. Hearing about that short battle was as close as he’d come to any part of the War Between the States. If the fighting hadn’t followed him to New Mexico, he’d have missed the war altogether. Deep in thought, he limped to the rear of the train to claim his horse. Colonel Canby had been commander of Fort Union back then, if he remembered right. By the time the army had issued the call to arms and Brax had come in off the range, the First Colorado Volunteers had arrived to save the day. The army had told him they didn’t need the help of a scrawny, half-grown kid, and had sent him home to mama.

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He didn’t go, of course. Helping supply fresh beef to Fort Union, he’d gotten to know the quartermaster. In five years he’d saved up enough money for a herd of his own, staked out a piece of range he fancied, and gone back to Ohio to show his mother what a success he’d made of his life. And there he’d met Annie Springfield. The rest was history, more poignant to him than any war would ever be. Riding down Main Street in El Moro he noticed how much building had gone on since he’d last passed through. Hell, it was getting pretty bad when a man went away for a few months and hardly recognized his old haunts when he returned. He held his horse to a walk, as much for the animal’s sake as for his own. Halting in front of George Close’s dance hall, he climbed stiffly down. Before he’d even reached the door, he was being welcomed and pounded on the back by old friends. “Ted, Sandy,” Brax said, shaking hands. “How’ve you been?” Sandy, whose coloring and dusky appearance fit his name, glanced at Brax’s limp. “A damn sight better than you, from the look of it. Whose bed did you fall out of?” “Very funny.” Ted was shorter, with a deep voice that was surprising in one so small. “Yeah, Brax. Come on in. Tell us about it. You look like you could use a drink.” Brax smiled and joined them at the bar. He wasn’t about to tell his old friends he’d gotten the hole in

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his calf from some confused kid, then been saved from additional harm by two hysterical women. The drovers and trail bosses would laugh him out of the territories if they got wind of the truth. It was easier to let them assume he’d gotten drunk and accidentally shot himself in the leg. That story would do if no better tale occurred to him. “It was one of those things,” Brax said. “My leg was in the way of an innocent bullet.” Sandy guffawed. “Ain’t no such a thing. A woman can be innocent but a bullet seems to know whose name is on it.” “Speakin’ of women, that reminds, me,” Brax said, taking a swig of the beer Ted had pressed on him. “I was wonderin’ if you boys’d noticed a couple of pretty, kinda red-haired women and a blond fella, ‘bout nineteen, twenty, passin’ through here of late?” “Not me,” Ted said. Sandy agreed. “That’s what I figured.” Brax drank again, wiped foam from his mustache. “How about a real young mama and baby? They would of come through about three days ago.” “Pretty, only kinda dumb?” Sandy asked. “And big as ole Kate at the top?” Brax tensed. The odds of these two yahoos seeing Tillie and remembering her were a hundred to one against. It had to have been a different mother and baby. Still, he needed to be sure. “Yeah, dumb and crazy. She’d of been alone, most likely.”

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Ted leaned against the bar and shook his head. “It ain’t her, then, Brax. This gal was with a bunch from down by your place. Worked for Chisum last roundup. They talked like there’s been more trouble over the contracts to supply beef for the Indians on the res. A few folks got shot.” He raised one eyebrow. “Say, that ain’t where you was nicked, is it?” “No. I got mine in Pueblo.” Sandy laughed again, his belt bouncing up and down over his round gut. “I got some there once, too, Brax, but it didn’t hurt!” Brax ignored him and downed the rest of his beer. “Did you see where the girl and the baby went?” When both Sandy and Ted shook their heads, the bartender spoke up. “I heard Bonney tell her to take the stage to Las Vegas and wait there for him.” Brax choked. “Him? She was with him? Oh, shit.” “Came in together,” the bartender said. “He left her just sittin’ and she got all mad like. I reckon she taken the stage, like he told her to.” “Thanks.” Brax laid an extra dollar on the bar, bid everyone good-bye and started for the door. He’d get himself a good meal, then make tracks for Las Vegas. At the pace the stage usually traveled, he’d probably get there shortly after Tillie arrived—if the woman in question really was Tillie. The more he thought about it, the more Brax figured it might be. Given her penchant for liking men,

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plus her reputation for being loco, it was possible Tillie had picked Bonney because she’d sensed a kindred spirit. As far as Brax was concerned, that young hand was as crazy as they came. Even though he didn’t know where Ruby and her friends were, it felt good to imagine he might have a line on Moses. He hoped so. Poor little guy. Tillie wasn’t the saviest woman in the world. If she’d really tied up with some of those wild boys from Lincoln County she could be in over her head. They weren’t opposed to shooting anybody they suspected of being on Murphy and Dolan’s side. The range around the Pecos, the Ruidoso, and the rest of Seven Rivers had been home to Brax for a lot of years. If anybody could locate that baby in New Mexico, he could. Mounting with a groan, Brax wheeled his horse, spurred him hard, and set off across the Raton Mountains toward home.

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Chapter 16 RUBY, Pearce and Sarah had spent an entire day searching for traces of Moses in El Moro. Only Ruby knew exactly what Tillie looked like. The other two concentrated on the baby. By the end of the day when they met in the restaurant of the New State Hotel, Ruby was exhausted. “I can’t believe she could just vanish like that. Oh, what have I done?” Sarah patted her on the shoulder. “You did what you thought was best.” “All this came to pass because I lied.” Ruby didn’t try to stop her onslaught of penitent tears. “I was afraid for myself so I deceived the one person who’d sworn to help me.” “Rutledge?” Pearce asked. Ruby nodded. “I’m afraid he’s terribly hurt.” “He’ll be all right.” Sarah passed Ruby a handkerchief. “The bullet went clean through.” “I don’t mean that kind of hurt.” She dabbed at her eyes. “I mean the kind that doesn’t show. The kind a body can never forget.” While she labored to regain her self-control, Pearce ordered supper for all three. “I’ll need to wire home for more money, soon,” he said after the waiter had left. “Mother promised to

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send as much as I need. I hope Father doesn’t object too strenuously. I’m afraid I can’t see him agreeing to it.” Ruby had given their lack of funds a lot of thought. “I want you to tell Nancy to sell my mules and wagon and whatever else she can of the stock I left behind. We should be in Las Vegas in two or three more days. Have her send the money there, in care of you.” Pearce scowled at her. “That’s risky. Selling your stock’s going to raise a lot of questions. I know we can trust Mother, but what about Father? He’s been a friend of Caleb Stone’s for years. Even before he became a judge.” “It’s a chance we have to take,” Ruby said. Dabbing the last of her tears from her cheeks, she was resolute. “Finding Moses is the most important thing. We can’t do that if we don’t have the means to travel and pay our way.” She observed the concern in their expressions. In Pearce’s, there was both fear and expectation. Sarah’s feelings were harder to read. Ruby saw the girl look up at Pearce, eyes dewy, lower lip quivering. All at once, the situation became clear. Sarah was in love with Pearce Hocker! Though he seemed unaware of the young woman’s affection, Ruby was certain they’d be good for each other. Both had charming naiveté, a basic faith to see them through the hardest times, and an obvious capacity for love so dear it made her heart ache.

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Ruby took Sarah’s hand in her right, Pearce’s in her left. “We are blessed to have one another. Moses is doubly blessed to have the two of you. If anything should happen to me, promise me you’ll love him.” “As much as if he were my own?” Pearce asked, his voice breaking. He pulled his hand from Ruby’s. “This whole mess is my fault. If any harm comes to that baby, I’ll have no more reason to live.” Sarah gasped. The look on her face broke Ruby’s heart. Tenderly, she reclaimed Pearce’s hand and joined it with Sarah’s beneath her own. “There’s no need to hide the truth any longer. We’re all friends. Emma’s child was born of love. It’s that love we should take care to remember.” She turned her attention specifically to Sarah. “Has he told you what happened?” “Enough.” “Then we’ll speak openly from now on.” The anguish in Pearce’s eyes grew until both women could only gaze at him with compassion and love. “Emma and I were sinners,” he finally said. Ruby took a deep breath and sighed. “In the eyes of the church you were sinners. I would not begin to presume to know the mind of God in the matter.” “But, Miss Ruby,” Pearce said, “they’re one in the same.” “Are they?” She released her friends’ hands and spread her own wide, palms toward the heavens. “It

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seems to me that there’s much we have yet to learn about God. As long as there are evil men like Judge Stone in power over us, I’m afraid the picture will continue to be muddied and confusing. Fortunately, I plan to remedy some of that confusion very soon by exposing...” A sudden jolt of memory shocked Ruby so badly she wondered if her heart would pound its way out of her chest. Her fingers flew to her lips. “Oh, sweet Jesus!” Sarah leaned forward, her hand on Ruby’s arm. “What is it? What’s wrong?” Ruby managed to calm herself enough to say, “My sister’s journal! It proves Stone is a murderer. I was so worried about Moses, I forgot everything else.” Pearce managed a weak smile. “Then Emma will be avenged and you’ll be free. Why be upset?” “Because,” Ruby said, her eyes darting from Pearce to Sarah and back again, “when Tillie stole my bag and my money, she got all Stone’s private papers, too. Emma’s journal was with them!”

BRAX GOT to Las Vegas late in the day. He’d taken a room at the Exchange Hotel, slept well, eaten a hearty breakfast and gone out early to scout around town. Before long, he’d wandered over to Locke and Brooks’ saloon on Central Avenue. It wasn’t fancy, like the Golden Apple, but to his way of thinking, it was a darned sight more comfortable. Best of all, he’d

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heard there was a new girl doing business out of one of the upstairs cribs. That was the kind of lead he’d been looking for. Brax was already in the saloon, waiting for the opportunity to identify Tillie—if it was her—when a nattily dressed man with an enormous mustache and a Bowler hat walked in. Brax didn’t know who the man was, but he knew what he was, at least basically. He had Sheriff or Marshall or Detective written all over him. Hopefully, the little man wasn’t a bounty hunter. Brax stiffened. A buxom girl in a crimson dress was descending the stairs. Recognizing her instantly, he dipped his head and pulled his hat lower over his eyes. He saw Tillie latch onto a big cowboy with arms the size of summer-fed hams and begin cavorting happily around the dance floor, oblivious to everything else. Keeping his face turned away, Brax was able to observe the girl by looking into the streaked mirror above the bar. He’d intended to bide his time and catch her unawares. The presence of the little man in the bowler hat had changed all that. Now, Brax wasn’t sure whether or not he could afford to wait until he could get Tillie alone. He ordered his usual whiskey and leaned on the bar as it was poured. He’d exchanged pleasantries with the same bartender the last time he’d come to town. “Thought I remembered you when you ordered Three-star,” the bartender said. “You been gone

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awhile.” “It’s been a spell, Sam. Got some new girls, I see.” “They come and go.” The older man chuckled. “Mostly, they go. We’re damned short of decent women out here.” “So, I’ve noticed.” Brax gestured over his shoulder. “What do you know about the one in red? She new?” “Yeah, but you don’t want her. Not unless you’re lazier than you look.” “Why’s that?” “She’s already got a baby.” Drying a glass he cocked his head toward the stairs that led up to the second story. The towel squeaked against the slick glass. “Keeps it upstairs in her room. Can you beat that? If I was her, I’d of left it with its pa and forgot about it.” “Women are funny,” Brax said. “They take to the little critters. Beats me why, though.” The bartender agreed. Leaning nonchalantly against the bar, Brax felt his gut tying in knots the size of Gladys’s biscuits, only harder. Tillie’s dance had ended and she was urging her partner to go upstairs with her. To Brax’s relief, the cowhand settled for a drink, instead. As Tillie and her beau approached the bar, Brax stepped away and faded into the crowd. Wandering

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among the stud poker, monte and keno games he made his way gradually to the foot of the stairs. When another couple sashayed up the steps, he followed at a discrete distance, always keeping his attention focused on the scene in the barroom below. No one seemed to notice that he was an odd third to the pair just ahead. At the top of the stairs they went to the left so Brax opted for the hallway to his right. Going clear to the end, he began to knock on doors. “Darlin’, you in there?” he called to provide an excuse for his presence. Rapping loudly on each door in turn he hesitated, then peered inside. The first two rooms were deserted. At the third, he encountered an aged whore sitting astride a portly gentleman the way a bronc buster rode a mustang. Her flesh was dimpled and rolled but the man on the bed didn’t seem to mind. It looked like she was going to tame her stallion real soon. “Get out of here,” she screeched. “I’m lookin’ for Tillie.” “Ain’t no Tillie here.” “She’s got a baby with her.” “Down the hall, two doors,” the woman hissed, still breathless from her exertion. “Only the name’s Ruby, not Tillie. Now, git.”

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“Yes, ma’am.” Brax tipped his hat and backed out the door. The guttural noises resumed. He counted two more doors, paused, then entered without knocking. The tiny room was so like the ones in Pueblo he had a sudden rush of déjà vu. Tillie’s things were strewn all over as usual. Moses slept peacefully beside the bed. She’d tucked him into a crate stamped, “Babbitt’s Best Laundry Soap.” Leave it to a woman to find a soap box no matter where she was. Must be in their blood. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Brax gazed at the baby and wondered just what the hell he should do, now. Moses’s tiny hands spread in sleep, their fingers curling around unseen objects. Brax smiled. The little guy was dreaming. Leaning closer, he held out one finger and the baby grasped it. Brax’s heart lurched. Never, since he’d given up his son, had he let himself come within miles of a child; especially a baby. The few months he’d cared for little Brax, alone and bereft, were so poignant that he’d taken great pains to bury any emotions of parental love so deep they would never be unearthed. Clearly, he hadn’t buried his feelings deep enough. Love washed over him like warm oil, flowing to every cell of his being. The task of protecting Moses had passed to him, no matter what else happened. Tears misted his vision, making him thankful he was alone. Still asleep, the baby smiled so sweetly it put the angels to shame. To preserve what dignity he had left, Brax pulled his finger from the baby’s grasp, cleared his throat

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and stood. Looking around the room he spotted Ruby’s traveling bag, the same one she’d tricked him with in Topeka. On investigation, he found it contained most of Moses’s clothing, Ruby’s personal items, and a few tins of milk. Thoughtful, Brax began to pace. The sensible thing to do would be to keep Tillie with him until he’d located Ruby and returned Moses to her. It was difficult to please a baby with a bottle, he knew, and since this one was thriving on mother’s milk, he’d be better off continuing to feed him that way as long as possible. Chances were Tillie would fight him, of course. He had to be prepared for that. And she’d most likely try to run away, just as Ruby had. The puzzling words of the older woman down the hall came back to him; brought him up short. Tillie was apparently going by “Ruby” instead of using her own name. Brax stopped walking and stood very still. His brow knit. Was it possible that Tillie was calling herself Ruby McKay? He’d never spoken Ruby’s full name in the presence of Gladys’s girls but it was possible that she had confided in one or all of them. His heart began to pound. If Tillie had foolishly chosen to use the name McKay, then there was every chance that the menacing lawman loitering downstairs had been sent by Judge Stone to retrieve Ruby! Stepping quickly into the hall, Brax leaned over the railing and looked down. Tillie was nowhere in

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sight. The mustachioed man in the bowler hat was working his way across the room, his attention focused on someone, or something, out of sight beyond the roulette table. If Tillie was in danger, then so was Moses. That was all Brax needed to know. Moving swiftly, he started down the stairs. The room was crowded. Smoke hung in a layered pall over the gaming tables. Halfway down, Brax paused to get his bearings. His hand gripped the banister. Tillie was already talking to Bowler Hat! Judging by the frightened look on her face, she was beginning to sense the seriousness of the trouble she was in. Slowly, to avoid attracting attention, Brax descended the rest of the way. He elbowed through the crowd until he was close enough to overhear what was being said. Bowler Hat was handing Tillie a card. “John Ellis, of Kearney, Smith and Ellis Brothers, Detectives,” he said. “Now, Miss McKay, if you will kindly come with me, we’ll go get your nephew and be on our way.” “I told you,” Tillie hissed. “I ain’t Ruby McKay.” “And that’s why everyone from Pueblo to El Moro knows you by that name?” He snorted as he took her arm. “I will admit you’ve managed to alter your appearance. You really should have continued to use an alias, you know.” “But, I ain’t...” Tillie’s wide, frightened gaze flitted over the crowd. “Don’t look for help from them,” Ellis warned. “The proprietor knows who I am and why I’m here.

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And he’s ready to back me up if need be.” Brax wasn’t sure how he was going to get them all out of the fix they were in but he knew he had to try. Once the man had escorted the frightened girl away from the bar’s patrons, he’d make his move. Watching the tableau unfold, Brax let his eyes meet Tillie’s. Instant recognition replaced the lost look she’d had. If she was afraid of him, she sure didn’t show it. Chancing a brief smile, Brax nodded to her, then let his gaze trace a path up the stairs so she’d know he was aware that Moses was in her room. Tillie yanked her arm from Ellis’s grip. “If I was this Ruby McKay, which I ain’t,” she said loudly, “I’d hope you’d be satisfied to arrest me and forget about any baby.” “You know I could never do that, madam,” Ellis said. “If I was to have a friend close by, I’d sure hope he’d take care of my son,” she said, her tone so strident it was nearly a shout. “Yes, sir! I’d want my baby taken far, far away so’s you and your kind could never get ahold of him.” Ellis’s voice was emotionless. “I’ve heard the tales of your innocence, Miss McKay. Until one of my operatives met with a sorry end in Denver City, I was inclined to believe you might have been the victim of circumstance.” He drew a derringer from his pocket and pointed it at her. “Now, however, I know better. I shall have to insist that you accompany me upstairs to get your things. I’m taking you and the Stone baby back to Kansas.”

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“No,” Tillie said flatly. “No, you ain’t.” Glancing over Ellis’s shoulder she smiled at Brax. “You know what you got to do.” Brax realized too late what she was planning. As Ellis turned to see who Tillie had spoken to, she made a quick grab for the small, double-barrel pistol, pulled it tightly into her stomach and squeezed her hands down tight over the detective’s. “No!” Brax shouted. It was too late. Two loud retorts rattled the glasses over the bar. Tillie crumpled into a pitiful heap on the floor. The crowd closed in. Precious seconds were wasted while Brax stood staring in disbelief. He didn’t have to see the wound to know it was bad. He’d seen men gut-shot before. They didn’t usually die right away but they did die. Always. Spinning around, he sprinted up the stairs. Tillie had sacrificed herself to buy him the time to save Moses. He owed her plenty, not the least of which was to get that baby out of Las Vegas and as far away as he could. Nothing else mattered.

STANDING alone in her warm kitchen, Nancy took a pan of biscuits out of the oven. Admiring their golden color and the perfect way they’d risen, she set them in the warming cupboard above her pot of stew.

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She sighed. Parkerson had barely spoken to her in the past few weeks; not since she’d refused to tell him where Nellie had gone. All her life she’d been taught that her husband was the boss. Defying him brought her great guilt. As penance, she’d vowed to be the dutiful wife, just as the book of Proverbs commanded. She’d cause Mr. Hocker no more embarrassment, tend to his every need, and hope he could forgive her. Subservience didn’t suit her temperament as well as it once had, she thought with chagrin. Perhaps a young wife’s skills with an oven weren’t as good as hers, but she remembered being a darned sight better at making her man happy years ago than at present. She poked at the hot coals and slammed the woodbox door. What she really wanted to do was throw something—anything—and see it shatter the way her life had shattered. But that wouldn’t do, would it? The perfect wife of King Solomon’s description would never do such a thing. Then again, the perfect wife in the bible wasn’t married to Parkerson Hocker. God help her, she wished she wasn’t, either. Nancy was so deep in introspection she didn’t hear the buggy pull into the yard. The first she knew her husband was home was when he barged into the kitchen, slamming the door. She started and let out a tiny gasp. “Who did you expect, my dear?” he asked. Nancy didn’t like the tone of his voice. Wiping her hands on her apron she managed a smile,

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nonetheless. “Why, you, Mr. Hocker. Your supper’s nearly ready.” The satisfied look on his face gave her pause. Up until then he’d been going around looking upset and worried. It seemed that whatever had been troubling him had been resolved. For that, she was thankful. “I’ve made your favorite. Beef stew,” she told him. “Those carrots I’d covered up with straw kept fine, as always. Now that the ground’s thawed I was able to dig them out and...” He hadn’t moved. Nor had he reacted to anything she’d said. She looked at him more closely. In his left hand was a telegram; in his right, two letters. Nancy’s hands clutched at her apron. “Is it bad news?” “No, not at all,” Parkerson said. “I was expecting a letter. When I called at the post office, Ira was good enough to tell me he had some mail for you, too.” A smile spread across his face, its benevolent influence not reaching the coldness in his eyes. Nancy shivered. “For me?” “Yes. One is from Nellie, extolling the virtues of Missouri and your Mr. Wills. One is from Ruby McKay, thanking you for your help and advising you that she and the kidnapped child are well.” He paused, holding up the other hand. “And this telegram arrived from our prodigal son, Pearce. He wants you to sell some of Ruby’s possessions, on her behalf, and send the profits to him in New Mexico Territory.”

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Reaching for the letters and wire, Nancy snatched them away. Parkerson let her. Livid, she clutched them to her breast. “You read them all? How could you!” “How could I?” he shouted. “My wife has been conspiring behind my back with my children and my enemies. What did you expect me to do, sit back and ignore your deceit?” “You had no right!” “I had every right, madam. I am your husband. Or have you forgotten that, too?” “Hardly,” Nancy said with disgust. “A chattel seldom forgets, if the lord and master reminds her often enough.” “Hah!” Seating himself at the table, Parkerson looked up at her. “All right, then. You said my supper was ready. Let’s have it.” “I’ll call the children.” She crammed the letters into her apron pocket and dished him up a bowl of stew, setting it before him. “They can eat later. Come. Sit.” The abrupt change in his attitude worried Nancy. Cautious, she slid into a chair. It was not like her authoritarian husband to call off an argument until he’d won. Instinct suggested he wasn’t through with her. Oh, if only he’d leave so she could read her precious letters in private! Parkerson took a few bites, raised one eyebrow and looked over at her. “You aren’t eating.”

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“I’m not hungry.” “Ah, but you should always eat. After all, you never know when you’ll get another chance, do you?” “I don’t know what you mean.” He leaned across the table, his eyes narrowing. “I stopped on the way home and made arrangements for the younger children. Phillip and Noah will go to military school in St. Louis. Polly and Ada will be sent to Dr. Martin’s Young Ladies’ Institute.” “No!” Parkerson smiled. “Oh, yes, my dear.” “But, that’s not fair. They’re my children, too.” “Pearce and Nellie were mine until you turned them against me,” he countered. Nancy’s alarm increased. If he was sending their remaining children away, what plans might he have for her? “I turned no one against you,” she argued. “You made the choice to trust Stone.” “And you condoned adultery, you slut.” His voice was low, menacing. “Your precious son bedded the man’s wife, for God’s sake! Did you expect Caleb to be pleased?” “The judge beat her.” “So? Emma was his wife.” With a cruel laugh, Parkerson stood, wiped his mouth, and threw aside the napkin. “See how lucky you were to have me for a husband? Not once did I raise a hand to you, even

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though you deserved it.” Silent, trembling, Nancy watched him circle the table and come toward her. Was he going to make up for lost chances and hit her now? To her immense relief, he only laughed. “Coward. Look at you. You’ve become an old, meddlesome woman, Mrs. Hocker. You disgust me.” Turning away from her he headed for the door. “Have the children’s clothing packed by tomorrow morning. They board the train at nine. In the mean time, you’d best be thinking about where you’ll be going, too.” “Me?” “Yes.” Smiling contemptuously, Parkerson turned back to face her. “I’m divorcing you. Should have done it years ago. Caleb will be my witness just as soon as he gets back.” Nancy’s head was spinning, but she wasn’t so shocked that she missed the implications of his reference to Stone. “The judge is out of town?” “Oh, yes,” Parkerson said, “I forgot. You haven’t read your letters and wire yet, have you? Caleb is on his way to New Mexico to identify Ruby. When I saw the telegram from our turn-coat son, I wired the information to his detectives.” “Oh, dear God.” The banker paused at the door. “I suggest you get busy and pack, my dear. I want you out of this

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house when I get home from Liz’s.” Nancy’s stomach lurched, her hands trembling. “Where will I go?” “That, is your problem. This house belongs to me.” “Kansas law says a woman has property rights, too,” she reminded him. “Maybe some women do. You don’t. If you make a fuss, I promise you’ll never be allowed to see your children again. Is that clear?” Nancy took a deep breath and nodded. Her husband knew where her heart lay and he’d use that knowledge to destroy her if he could. Her only safe recourse was to pretend to give in to him until she’d figured out her next move. “Perfectly clear,” she said, her chin held high. “I’ll go.” If Parkerson was surprised, he gave no indication of it. Turning abruptly, he slammed out of the house. With a heavy heart, Nancy opened first the telegram, then both letters, spread them out on the table and sank into a chair. All she had left of her dearest friend lay before her. And poor Pearce. He must be so frightened. She stared at the message from her son. Its instructions were clear. Ruby was entrusting her with all her worldly possessions, including the McKay farm. Nancy had been paying one of the Plunkett boys to

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care for the livestock but the place really needed a full-time caretaker. And she needed a home. The farm would do nicely. Rising, Nancy moved slowly, like a person in shock. Routinely, she cleared away Parkerson’s dirty dishes and set new places for herself and the four children. This would be their last meal together for a while. She aimed to see that it was enjoyed before she told them of their father’s schemes. Poor little dears, she thought, her heart filling with anger at her husband. Maybe she couldn’t do anything to stop his plans for divorce, nor did she truly want to, but she wouldn’t give up her children without a fight. If Parkerson Hocker thought she’d just roll over like a whipped dog and let him kick her again, he had another think coming!

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Chapter 17 RUBY was surprised to find that a goodly portion of the town of Las Vegas, New Mexico, was composed of squatty, thick-walled adobe buildings. Only the business district contained the usual wood-frame stores, hotels and saloons, an island of the familiar in a sea of mud huts. She noticed a loud commotion at the Locke and Brooks saloon as she, Sarah, and Pearce passed by in the street. Women and children were clustered around the doorway and peering in the windows. She turned to Pearce. “You’d better go have a look. Sarah and I will stay out here.” “Why should we concern ourselves?” he asked, sounding a little put out. “We’re here to pick up the money mother sent so we can keep looking for Moses.” “Tillie once worked in a place like that,” Ruby reminded him. “Maybe you can spot her in the crowd.” Chagrined, he nodded. “All right. But I don’t see how. All those women look alike to me.” “I told you...she’s shorter than I am and her hair is kind of light brown, wild and curly.” Pearce shook his head in resignation. “Okay. I’ll try. Wait here.” He flashed a smile at Sarah before ducking through the saloon door.

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The two women kept a discrete distance. Someone inside was shouting epithets at the top of his lungs. Ruby had heard that this part of the country was uncivilized but she’d had no idea just how raw it could be, till now. She glanced at some of the passing men. Those who weren’t wearing a sidearm were at least carrying a rifle or shotgun. What surprised her even more was that most of the women were likewise armed! Even those who didn’t appear to be, probably had kit guns tucked into their reticules. As soon as she’d gotten her money and visited the bank, Ruby vowed she was going to buy herself a pistol. She, Sarah and Pearce had only one gun between them. If they became separated, it would be good to be able to protect herself. A wizened man carrying a black bag entered the saloon. Pressing her nose to the window, Ruby saw the crowd clear a pathway for him. Someone apparently lay prostrate on the floor because the doctor bent down and opened his bag. A quiet hush fell over the spectators. In the background, two burly men were holding a much slighter man by the arms to restrain him. From the look of it, the smaller man had committed some heinous crime; probably murder. Ruby shivered. It was wrong to judge anyone without knowing the facts behind what had happened. She, of all people, ought to know better. Others had wrongly condemned her when she wasn’t guilty. The rules of fairness should be no different for the man in the saloon.

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They saw Pearce edging closer, working his way through the mob. “He’s almost there,” Sarah whispered aside. “I know. I wish we could see what was going on from up close.” Covering her mouth, Sarah giggled. “I’d love to sneak in. Could we?” “Your Mr. Harvey wouldn’t like it,” Ruby warned, reminding her young friend of the job she’d ceased to mention of late. “Oh, dear,” Sarah said. “I reckon...I mean, I dare say he wouldn’t.” Ruby eyed her curiously. “Are you trying to change your speech?” “A tad.” “Why? I love the way you speak. It’s charming.” “It’s not as good as you and Pearce talk.” Hanging her head, the girl studied her folded hands. “Till I met up with you, I thought I was real fine.” Taking Sarah’s hands, Ruby drew her aside. “You are as fine as they come, Sarah Kussner, and don’t you ever let anyone tell you differently.” “I do have a wicked streak in me,” the younger girl said, brightening. “I was thinkin’...with all those people in that there saloon, who’d notice two quiet women standin’ in the back?” Ruby chuckled. “Who, indeed?”

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“Do we dare?” “Why not? I’m already branded as corrupt, and you fought your way out of Denver. We’re practically desperadoes, already.” Ruby led the way in the door, proceeded around the perimeter of the room and paused near the bar. She looked surreptitiously from side to side. No one seemed to be paying any attention to her or to Sarah. Behind them, the bartender was speaking to a well-dressed gentleman smoking a cheroot. Sarah waved away the drifting smoke with her hand. “Whooee. It’s mighty close in here.” Putting her finger to her lips, Ruby admonished her to be quiet. She thought she’d overheard the barman mention a baby and she wanted to listen more carefully. “Look, Sam. We can’t be responsible for what happened,” the gentleman was saying. “It’s not our fault. He’s an old Pinkerton man. You know how they are.” “We could of warned her,” Sam said. “What good would that have done?” The bartender’s, “Humpf,” reminded Ruby of the way her father used to react when he was disgusted. She chanced another peek at the two men. The well-dressed one was chewing on the end of his twisted cigar, an agitated look on his face. “I’ll put her up for as long as it takes,” he told the bartender. “You tell Doc I’ll pay him, too, and buy

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her a proper tombstone.” “What about the baby?” Ruby held her breath, listening. “Have one of the girls take it to that new preacher over at Trinidad, or leave it with Father Francis. I don’t care.” “Shouldn’t we try to find the girl’s family?” Sam asked. “How? Chances are good she wasn’t using her real name, anyway. Few of them do. Didn’t you hear her denying who she was just before she was shot?” “So? If an ex-Pinkerton man was on your trail, wouldn’t you lie?” The one called Sam busied himself polishing glasses. Ruby could tell he was upset. Grinding out his cigar in a glass on the bar, the gentleman nodded. “Well, we’ll have to put something on her grave. What do you suggest?” Sam shrugged. “Might as well call her Ruby McKay, like she claimed. No use leavin’ it blank.” Sarah’s gasp was so loud it caused both men to pause and look toward her. She quickly covered her mouth, her eyes wide with astonishment. The bartender spoke. “You ladies shouldn’t be in here. Your husbands’d nail my hide to the barn door if they thought I’d let you stay. Go on, now. Git. Both of you.”

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“Yes, sir,” Ruby managed to say. Dragging Sarah behind her she hurried toward the door. When they were outside, Ruby sank onto the loafer’s bench and tried to catch her breath. All the pieces of the puzzle fit. Tillie must have usurped her name and someone had shot the poor girl by mistake. The men in the saloon had mentioned a detective. Ruby knew, if she was to reach Moses and rescue him, she’d have to figure out a way to do so without being recognized by the detective or his henchmen. She turned to Sarah. “Go fetch Pearce. Tell him I’m going down the street to the First National Bank, the one we saw from the coach when we arrived. I’ll wait there while he visits the telegraph office. Once we’ve collected our money, we can bribe someone to bring Moses to us.” “Why not go get the baby ourselves?” Sarah was still trembling from the shock she’d received upon hearing Ruby’s name. “Because Stone’s hired detective is right here in town,” she said. “And if one has followed our path this far, more must be aware of my presence in the Territories. The other thing is, we don’t know if you and Pearce are wanted for the fracas in Denver City. That’s possible, too. I won’t knowingly endanger your lives.” “All right.” Sarah got to her feet. “I’ll find Pearce. You skedaddle.” Ruby kissed her cheek. “And ask Pearce to find out if there’s anything we can do for Tillie.” “I will.” She managed a wan smile. “I’m real sorry about your friend, but I’m powerful glad it

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wasn’t you that got shot.” Ruby swallowed. Her throat felt as if a ball of dusty cotton were trapped halfway down. It was monstrous of her to agree with Sarah, she knew, yet she couldn’t get over the fact she’d been a witness to the scene of her own murder. The idea stunned her. That detective must have been closing in all the time she was recuperating in Pueblo, imagining herself safely hidden. Only a few days had passed since the morning she’d left Gladys’s. How close had she come to being the body on the floor of the saloon, instead of Tillie?

“SHE’S still alive,” Pearce told the two women. “They’ve carried her up to her room.” Ruby laid her hand on his arm. “Is there a chance for her?” “The doctor says not. I did manage to ask about Moses, though. I don’t think anyone suspected why I was interested.” She held her breath. Pearce was being vague, a tactic at which he wasn’t very accomplished. It irritated her. “Well?” Gripping his arm more tightly she felt him place his hand over hers. “They didn’t take him to either clergyman, like you heard the man say they should. No one seems to know who’s caring for him at present. They all assured me he was still up in her room when Tillie was

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shot.” He lowered his voice. “Do you suppose the detective stole him away?” Ruby shook her head. “I don’t think so. I watched from the bank as some men escorted him straight from the saloon to jail. He’s had no opportunity to get Moses.” “Suppose he had help?” Sarah asked, looking from Pearce to Ruby. “In the confusion, someone else could have taken the poor little thing.” “No,” Pearce said. “The bartender assured me nobody had been seen leaving with a baby. Besides, if the detective’s men had him, wouldn’t they have taken him to the Sheriff’s office, too, to prove their boss’s story?” Thinking, Ruby nodded. “I’m going to go visit Tillie. You two keep a lookout in case the detective gets released and comes back while I’m up there. The jail is the first adobe building on this side of the street, going out of town the same way we came in.” She’d anticipated Pearce’s objections but not Sarah’s. The younger woman was adamant. “You can’t! What if somebody recognizes you?” “They won’t, as long as you keep a sharp lookout.” Pearce agreed. He took Sarah’s hand. “Ruby’s right. She’s the one to go. She knows Tillie and we don’t. If the woman’s dying, as they say, she’d be much more likely to confide in a friend than in strangers.” “But, how will you get in to see her? What excuse will you give? You know the bartender doesn’t

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approve of women in his saloon. What if he remembers you?” “I’ve thought of that,” Ruby said. “As soon as I’ve been to the hardware store and the drygoods store, and paid a call on the nearest preacher, I’ll be ready.” Sarah’s mouth hung open. “Whatever are you talkin’ about? You sound as crazy as you said Tillie was.” “Not crazy—clever,” Ruby told her. “I’m going to buy myself a pistol and ammunition, a black bonnet and shawl, and then get myself a bible. Sister Ruby Harvey is going to pay a last-respects call on the poor sinner in the saloon.” “I don’t know,” Pearce interjected. “It sounds a bit blasphemous to me.” “In spite of all that’s happened, I do still have my faith,” Ruby countered. “If I can offer a poor, lost soul peace before the Death Angel calls, then I should.” Sarah laid a restraining hand on her friend’s arm. “What if it’s all a trap? Suppose someone is waiting for you to come so’s he can shoot you, too?” “If I were meant to be shot,” Ruby reasoned calmly, “then I would be the one lying on a bed of suffering instead of poor Tillie. I don’t know why things worked out as they did but I suspect God has other plans for me.” “What plans?” Sarah resisted as Ruby tried to loosen her grip.

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“The destruction of Caleb Stone and the evil he represents,” she said. “Tillie has Emma’s diary. I intend to get it back, as well as find out where Moses has been taken.” “Even if it’s dangerous?” “I’ve walked through the valley of the shadow of death before,” Ruby said. “I wish I could be as sure of all this as you are,” Sarah said, her voice little more than a whisper. Ruby smiled at both her young friends to reassure them. “Don’t worry. I’ll meet you back here in about an hour. I’m going to go get the two kinds of armament everyone needs in this far-flung land; a pistol and a bible.

THE ROOM was dimly lit, small, dingy. There was no healthy color to Tillie’s cheeks, no bloom of youth. Ruby approached the bed, took the chair the doctor vacated, thanked him, and reached for Tillie’s hand. The girl didn’t respond to her touch. “May we be alone?” Ruby asked. Shrugging, the doctor acquiesced. He waved two other women toward the door, ushered them out, and followed. As soon as the door shut, Ruby leaned closer. “Tillie? Tillie, it’s me, Ruby. Can you hear me?”

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The long lashes quivered. Tillie opened her eyes, blinked, then tried to smile. The expression looked more like a grimace. Ruby felt a tightening of Tillie’s fingers around her own. Thankful she wasn’t too late, she returned the smile. “I hoped you’d come,” the girl whispered. “I need you to forgive me.” “It’s done,” Ruby said in total sincerity. “Oh, bless you.” Tillie moaned softly, her teeth clenching. “Got what I deserved, didn’t I? Thought I’d steal your fortune. See what it got me?” “The money didn’t do this to you,” Ruby said. “Using my name was what got you into so much trouble.” She cradled and stroked the girl’s cheek. Her skin was clammy, her complexion growing more sallow. “You were just confused about Moses and your own baby, that’s all.” “My baby died,” she said. “I knowed that. It was just peaceful to pretend.” “You knew? All along, you knew?” Tillie tried to chuckle. Pain cut short her attempt. “Not all the time. Sometimes, I’d get real sure losin’ my baby was a bad dream. Then I’d sort of wake up, see Moses, and know what was true.” A cough racked her body. Ruby cradled her till the spasms passed. “I’m so sorry. Is Moses safe, now?” Tillie nodded. “Safe.”

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“Thank God.” She breathed a sigh. “Where is he?” “You don’t know? I thought sure...” A rattle came from Tillie’s throat, its sound reminiscent of the last breaths Ruby had heard her father draw. “What? Tell me. You thought what?” “Brax,” Tillie managed to say. “You and Brax.” “I left Brax in Pueblo. We’re not together, anymore.” “He was here,” Tillie said, her voice barely audible. “He saved Moses for me.” Grasping her hand, Ruby hovered over her to hear the rest. “What happened? Where did Brax take him?” “Don’t know.” She closed her eyes. Ruby could still hear her labored breathing. It was plain the girl was no longer aware of anything temporal. Placing the bible on the bed beneath Tillie’s limp hand, Ruby arose and began to search the room. In minutes, she realized Emma’s diary wasn’t there. Neither was her own traveling bag. Brax must have fled with it when he took Moses, since the bag had also contained the baby’s spare clothing. But where had they gone? If he’d wanted Moses returned to Judge Stone, Brax could have left him for the detective to find. Ruby paced the floor, thinking, praying. Brax had said he’d often teamed up with a man named

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Chisum to move their combined herds to market. Where Chisum lived was as big a mystery as the location of Brax’s ranch. There might be cowhands around who knew, though. She’d trust Pearce to find out while she decided what course to take. It had occurred to her that Brax might also have started back east, meaning to deliver the baby to the Kansas authorities. If that were the case, Ruby reasoned, maybe Pearce and Sarah could help. It was time they went home, anyway. The danger here was too great. Ruby couldn’t help wondering how a man like Brax Rutledge expected to properly care for an infant. He would undoubtedly hire a nursemaid. She grimaced. Whoever he chose would probably be pretty, too. A stab of jealousy jolted Ruby. Before meeting Brax, life had been lonely. There was no one special who belonged only to her; who had chosen her. She was part of others’ lives, yet excluded from the specific relationships that formed only when two people joined and became one. Ruby realized she’d always been an outsider, set apart because of her strong-willed character, relied upon while not being allowed to reverse the roles and lean on her family for the emotional support she needed. “You’re the strong one,” Papa had said. “Take care of your little sister.” As the eldest, Ruby had listened to Emma’s troubles from the time they were children. Emma; always insecure, always floundering, and yet she’d found love. With Pearce.

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Everything Brax had tried so hard to explain to Ruby suddenly made sense. It wasn’t only a physical joining that two lovers enjoyed, it was a singular assurance that one other soul in the whole world was a true part of yours! After the loss if his wife, no wonder he was hesitant to open himself to the possibility of more pain. Thinking about his explanation for leaving her chaste and untouched, Ruby finally understood. Brax knew his life was empty but he chose not to fill the void with a woman whose own life hung by a thread of lies. That was why he’d wanted to take her to the Marshall! He hadn’t intended to hurt her. He’d been trying to free her. And she’d thwarted him at every turn! Returning to the bed, she placed a kiss of farewell on Tillie’s clammy forehead. “Jesus loved Mary Magdalene and forgave her,” Ruby said softly. “Surely, He loves you just as much. Sleep well, dear heart.” Tillie’s breathing slowed, the rattle less pronounced. It looked as if she were trying to smile. The aura of absolute peace within the room was palpable. Ruby backed out the door, content to leave her friend to the benevolent mercy of Almighty God.

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Chapter 18 “I TOLD you not to shoot her,” Caleb declared, facing John Ellis in the Las Vegas jail house. “It was an accident. She grabbed my hand. No one could have kept from firing under those circumstances.” The sheriff, a squat, graying man who reminded Caleb of a slow-witted possum with fuzzy muttonchops, agreed. “Lots a folks seen it happen, Judge. Your friend here’s tellin’ the truth.” “Fine. Release him and we’ll be on our way. I understand the girl is still alive. At least I’ll have a chance to confront her with her sins.” “Sorry, Judge,” the sheriff drawled. “Guess you ain’t heard. Miss McKay, she died late yesterday night.” Spitting tobacco juice on the floor in a corner, he hooked his thumbs through the belt partially hidden by his overlapping gut. Caleb was so angry he could barely keep from shouting. His only solace was the assurance that Ruby had gone down to perdition where she belonged. He just wished he’d been present to see her take her last breath. He stood by as Ellis gathered up his pocket watch and other belongings from the sheriff’s desk. The

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detective’s slim fingers were quick, his manner nervous. No doubt he’d worried about being officially charged with Ruby’s murder. Caleb chuckled to himself. Didn’t the idiot know no harm could possibly come to him while they were allied? A blanket of grace covered anyone whose mission was the same as Caleb Stone’s. It was a fact he’d seen over and over, ever since he’d begun waging a holy war against sin. Standing tall, Caleb felt a swell of pride; a sin in itself, but surely permissible under the circumstances. He’d come a long way and deserved everything he’d accomplished. His only regret was that his father had died before seeing him proven worthy in the sight of God and man. Caleb flinched. It was as if the sting of the lash smarted freshly on his back. He often experienced the same aberration of memory. In the silence of the sheriff’s office he could almost hear his father’s stentorian recitations of holy writ, the crack of the buggy whip, and the echoes of his own denial that he was a sinner. In retrospect, Caleb saw that the whippings were a form of holy purification for a man who was to someday give the world its second look at the true mind of the Redeemer. Through the pain and the old man’s knowledge of scripture, Caleb had begun to understand who and what he was. He’d dedicated his life to the pursuit of that ultimate truth. It wouldn’t be long now. Glancing at the folded shirt sleeve tucked back into the arm of his coat, he half expected to see the

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renewal of his hand as the first manifestation of his promised power. That it hadn’t happened yet was no deterrent to his beliefs. Everything would fall into place in God’s good time. Until then, all he had to do was continue to believe and wait for the revelations to begin. Ellis spoke, jarring his thoughts back to concerns of the present. “Do you want to see the girl?” “Yes,” Caleb said. “It will set my mind at ease to know she’s no longer a threat to my son.” “Very well.” Ellis turned to the sheriff. “Have they moved her, or is she still at the saloon?” The sheriff shrugged, jiggling all three of his chins. “Can’t say. It’s comin’ on warm, today. I ‘spect they’ll be buryin’ her right soon.” Nodding, Ellis squared his bowler on his head and started out the door. Caleb followed. “You said she’d changed her appearance some?” “That’s right. We’d expected as much. If Miss McKay hadn’t stopped using an alias, we might not have discovered her whereabouts nearly so soon.” “And the baby?” Ellis cleared his throat. “Another matter altogether. It seems the child has been misplaced.” Caleb grabbed the smaller man’s arm, spinning him around. “Misplaced? Just what is that supposed to mean?” “Calm yourself, Judge,” the detective said, extricating his arm from Caleb’s iron grip. “I arrived in

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town some hours ahead of my men. Unfortunately, the sheriff took me into custody after the shooting and I was unable to follow up on my plans to secure the child. By the time help arrived, the girl was dying and someone had removed the baby from her room. I’m certain it’s simply a case of a well-meaning soul failing to inform Mr. Locke or Mr. Brooks.” Caleb’s mind was racing. Perhaps that idiot, Pearce Hocker, was involved. Perhaps not. The idea would bear remembering. Satan had clever henchmen. If there was a way to thwart the plans of a man doing God’s work, the devil would find it. In his case, naturally, the danger was increased a thousand-fold. While on earth, Christ had had to face Lucifer in person. Caleb Stone could expect no less. They had reached the saloon. Following Ellis, Caleb went directly to the bar. His presence was attracting attention, as it always did. He stood taller and lifted his left arm. The hand was still gone but he could feel his fingers even more clearly than before. Clenching a phantom fist, he smiled. “Where have they taken her?” Ellis was demanding. “The cemetery,” Sam said, wiping invisible spots from the bar top. “No use waiting for kin. She didn’t have any.” “Yes, she did,” Caleb announced, gesturing. “And I have come for the baby.” “Holy shit!” Staring at the end of Caleb’s arm as it waved past, Sam backed away. “Mister, you’re bleedin’.”

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“Probably a form of stigmata, since I have healed completely,” Caleb said calmly. “Now, suppose you tell us how to get to the cemetery. We’re in a hurry.” “Uh—up the road toward the east end of town, then turn at the barbershop just past the Exchange Hotel. Cemetery’s about a mile out of town.” “Do you have a buggy?” Caleb asked Ellis. “No. We’ll have to rent one.” “By that time, we could walk. Come on. I want a look at Ruby McKay before she’s buried.” The detective tipped the bartender for his help and followed Caleb outside. “You sound awfully eager.” “I am.” He laughed. “I suppose I really ought to thank you for doing what I might have been tempted to do, had I been given the same opportunity.” “I told you,” Ellis insisted. “The shooting was accidental.” “Maybe that’s what you think. I know better.” “Oh?” He was nearly running to keep up with Caleb’s longer strides. “Yes. God has seen to it that the woman is no longer a trial to me, and has done it so that my hands are clean. What could be more clear?” Ellis puffed. “Humpf! I’ve never been much of a church-going man.” He shot a glance at Stone.

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“Maybe that’s just as well.” “Why?” “Because, I can’t picture any god I’d care to worship going around killing young girls.” “In the end, you’ll understand,” Caleb declared. “Everyone will; ‘Every knee shall bow and every tongue confess.’” “Confess what?” Caleb laughed. “You’ll see,” he said. “In good time, you’ll all see.”

RUBY HUGGED Sarah one last time. “Take care.” “I don’t think we should leave you,” Sarah said. She looked to Pearce. “Tell her we shouldn’t.” He shrugged and shook his head. “If Miss Ruby believes she’ll be safe alone, then what right do we have to question her decision?” “But, she’s a woman. This is an uncivilized land.” Ruby took Sarah’s hand and guided her to the waiting coach. “That’s why I chose such a plain brown outfit,” she explained, looking down at hem of the split-skirt which fell just past the tops of her boots. Enough money had come from Nancy for both Ruby and Sarah to have a welcome change of clothing.

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They’d managed to find a Mexican seamstress who’d helped them make some quick alterations to the basic store-bought outfits available in the mercantile. Under protest, Sarah had eventually been persuaded to accept a feminine Princess polonaise of green and blue that made her eyes look as clear as the summer sky after a rain. The fabric was a plain grenadine over wool, perfect for traveling. Sarah didn’t suspect how beautiful she looked but Ruby had seen Pearce take notice. That, alone, made the price of the dress and matching bonnet worthwhile. Sarah raised an eyebrow at Ruby’s outfit. “At least I look like a lady,” she remarked, making a face. “As if that skirt wasn’t bad enough, you had to go and buy leather drawers!” “They’re chamois,” Ruby said. “You’re going to be riding in a coach. I’ll be on horseback. That makes my needs different.” “My ma always said, girls what dressed like that was askin’ for mischief.” Ruby patted the pistol she now wore in a holster strapped to her waist. “Don’t fret. Thanks to Pa, I’m as good a shot as Pearce, here.” Sarah gazed up at him questioningly. “She is,” he agreed. “Better, actually. Last Independence Day, we had a picnic and a turkey shoot back home. Miss Ruby shot her target best and won for the women.” Smiling slightly he extended his hand to her. “Good luck.”

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Ruby ignored the outstretched hand and hugged his neck for a brief moment before backing off. “Take care of Sarah for me.” “I will.” Pearce scowled. “I hate to go.” “You must,” Ruby said. “If Brax has decided to take Moses back to Kansas, someone who knows the truth has to be there to keep Stone from getting his hands on the baby.” “I think I should go all the way back with you so I can help,” Sarah offered. “And not stop in Topeka?” Pearce frowned at her. “That’s nonsense.” Flustered, Sarah was blushing, her gaze averted. “I suppose so.” Assisting Sarah into the coach, Pearce joined her. “I promised to see you back to your job and so I shall.” He turned back to Ruby. “Mother will ask how you are and where you’ve gone. What shall I tell her?” Ruby sighed. “Just say I’ve gone in search of the truth. As soon as I can, I’ll write again and explain everything. In the meantime, tell her to use her own judgment about keeping or selling my possessions. The longer I’m away, the more I realize that material things don’t matter. I’ll never be able to return to Kansas, anyway. Too much has happened.” “You have the money?” he leaned out to ask quietly. “On my person.” Her voice took on a wistful air, her hand rested on the butt of the revolver. “From

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now on, I plan to keep the tools of my survival always at hand, waking or sleeping.” “We wish you every success,” Pearce said. Ruby stepped back and waved as the coach started to roll. There was a strong, well-built horse waiting for her at the livery stable, its saddlebags filled with supplies, a bed-roll tied on behind. The sooner she mounted and headed out of town, the better. Her stomach lurched, then formed one hard knot in the center. In her deepest heart she prayed that she wasn’t wrong; that Brax had gone south just as he’d urged her to do. She yearned to be reunited with him almost as much as she did with little Moses. Nothing would bring her more joy than to be blessed with finding the two of them together.

“IT’S TOO late, mister.” The leathery old man tilted back his stovepipe hat and wiped the sweat from his brow with a bandanna. “She’s done buried.” Leaning on the shovel handle, he rested. Caleb was adamant. “I can see that, you fool.” He squared his shoulders. “How much would you charge to open the grave again? I want to look at her.” The shocked expressions of the men, including Ellis, didn’t surprise him. Most people were abject cowards. “Not for a hundred dollars, mister,” the old grave-digger said. “And I’m sure that goes for Charlie

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and Ted, here, too.” They nodded. “Let the dead rest, that’s what I always say.” “Then my associate and I will do it,” Caleb insisted. “Give me your shovel.” All three men stepped away, two clutching shovels and the third a pickax. “No, sir.” “I said, give it to me.” How dare they defy him?! Didn’t they know what horrible consequences they faced by not complying with his wishes? He took a step toward the old man, his hand outstretched. “The shovel.” Ellis grasped Caleb’s good arm. “Let it be. You can’t dig alone, not one-handed...and I have no intention of helping you.” “What?” He wheeled, his anger white-hot. “You work for me. If I say you’ll dig, then by all that’s holy, you’ll dig!” “No, Judge,” the detective said firmly. “I won’t.” “Then you’re through—you and all your men—through.” “I’d assumed we’d get to that pretty soon.” Bowing, Ellis acknowledged the grave-diggers with a tip of his bowler. “Gentlemen. Shall we go?” “Stay here. All of you,” Caleb bellowed. “I want this grave opened, do you hear me? Opened!” Calmly, purposefully, the little detective turned his back on the newly-made grave and began to lead the others away. His cock-sure demeanor infuriated Caleb even more.

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“I said, you’re fired,” he shouted after them. Ellis paused, looked back, and lightly touched the brim of his hat. “Thank you for saving me the distasteful task of quitting. I’ve lost two men, not my best operatives but two souls nonetheless, and I can’t help suspecting that you must have played a part in their demise.” “You’re crazy.” “I may be. Sanity is not the issue. If it were, well...” He spread his hands wide. Caleb’s fist was clenched. He could feel his left wrist sticking to the fabric of his cuff. As always, the detective was wasting words. “Well, what?” Caleb demanded. “Say what you intend to, then leave me.” “It’s simple. I may be out of your employ, now, but I’m not quitting this case. In the future, I suggest you watch yourself, Judge, because you can no longer buy my loyalty.” Caleb laughed, his cynicism obvious. “Do you think I care?” With a brisk sidestep he moved to stand on the center of the grave. “You’ll be crushed under my feet just as Ruby McKay was, and I won’t have to lift a finger. You can’t hurt me. Nobody can.” He saw Ellis and the grave-diggers break ranks and depart, heard the echo of his own laughter resonating up the arroyos and across the barren hills. It had been foolish to bother hiring detectives in the first place. He saw that now. He should have realized that the Almighty had the situation in hand, just as He always had, even during the pain of Caleb’s youthful purification at the hands of his earthly father.

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Raising his eyes to the sky, he looked out past the turbulent jumble of clouds, apologetic for relying on worldly means to locate Moses. Clearly, the child was to him as Isaac was to Abraham. Caleb lifted his arms, calling for guidance. A breeze had been stirring, the harbinger of a storm. The wind rose in the north, blowing south. It whipped at Caleb’s coat, tore off his hat, sent it tumbling across the cemetery. At peace, he stepped down off the mound of earth. The baby was somewhere to the south. Providence had pointed the way. All he had to do was trust and follow.

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Chapter 19 BRAX had taken shelter from the storm with the large, hospitable, Patricio Perea family in Anton Chico, twenty-seven miles out of Las Vegas. Because of Moses’s fair coloring, the Mexican women and children had found him a fascinating toy, which relieved Brax of his constant care. The Pereas had gifted him with so much food and baby clothing upon his departure, he’d had to leave some of it behind. It took him five more days to make his way across the Galinnas and Jicarilla Mountains. Skirting Fort Stanton he pressed on, intent on reaching Rio Ruidoso country. Brax had never been so eager for civilization. Not only did his horse need a rest, his ears did, too. A bored baby was not the most pleasant traveling companion. He topped the rise. Lincoln’s curving, tree-lined main street lay below, nestled in the bottom of the narrow valley. Moses traveled more contentedly if he could see what was going on, so Brax had taken to buttoning the baby inside his jacket or vest, high against his chest, facing out. The sometimes damp arrangement sure beat listening to him wail like a pack of wild coyotes! Steadying Moses against him, Brax cantered into town. The closer he got to the familiar buildings,

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the more on edge he felt. Lincoln had always been quieter than El Moro or Las Vegas. But never this quiet. A few freight wagons were tied up at Murphy and Dolan’s place. The sign out front had been repainted to read, J.J. Dolan & Co. Given Murphy’s reputation for underhanded dealings, however, Brax doubted much had actually changed. He reined his mount to a halt outside the Lincoln County Bank. There were a few things he needed to check on besides his money. For instance, where was everybody? Were the Mescalero Apaches still behaving themselves? Under other circumstances, Brax wouldn’t have much cared. Having Moses along made a difference. “Well, we’re here, little fella,” Brax said softly. He’d taken to talking to the baby while he rode. Some of his friends would undoubtedly tease him for babbling to an infant but so what. If he’d cared about what other men thought, he’d have hired a woman to look after the kid. Besides, the baby had started grinning up a storm whenever he appeared. It was nice to have somebody so damned glad to see you. Still holding Moses secure under his coat, his little face peeking out at chin level, Brax dismounted and walked stiffly into the bank. Never before had he been forced to sit so still or proceed so cautiously on horseback. The enforced rigors had stiffened his muscles, aggravated the lingering pain of the healing wound in his leg.

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The regular cashier wasn’t working. In his place stood a young man with a shock of unruly brown hair and thick spectacles. The makings of a meager mustache were scattered across the youngster’s upper lip, reminding Brax that his own needed trimming. Brax nodded. “Afternoon.” “Afternoon, Sir.” “You’re the Woods boy, aren’t you?” “Yes, sir, Mr. Rutledge. I’m Ned.” “Thought I recognized you. You’ve grown some.” He opened his coat and set Moses on the counter, steadying him carefully. “John Tunstall’s not here, today, I see.” The cashier frowned. “You been to Californy, or something?” “Kansas,” Brax said. “You should of read it in the newspapers, even up there. Word was all over the Territories. Mr. Tunstall’s been dead for more’n a month. Murdered by a posse of Murphy’s Regulators, they say.” “Jesus.” Brax pulled Moses closer as if doing so would somehow protect him from the roving bands of vigilantes. “Is McSween around, then?” “He’s under arrest at Fort Stanton,” the boy said. “Went there of his own free will. Figured he’d be hung if he stayed here where Sheriff Copeland could get to him.”

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“Copeland? I thought Brady was sheriff.” “Was. Got shot along with Mr. Hindman, right out there in the street. Judge Bristol up and made John Copeland acting sheriff.” Brax was no longer surprised to have found Lincoln’s one main street deserted. He knew it was about time for the grand jury to reconvene. No matter what indictments it handed down, the fight for authority in the territory would probably continue. That dismal thought brought him to ask after his friend. “How about Chisum?” “Mr. John, Mr. Jim or Mr. Pitzer?” “John.” The boy nodded. “Mr. Chisum came through here on his way home. Said he was going to check on Bosque Grande, then head for his South Spring River ranch. He missed out on the gunfight at Blazer’s Mill.” Brax took a deep breath. “Thank God. Who died in that one?” As if it mattered. He’d obviously ridden into a hornet’s nest. “They say the Regulators on both sides started it. Mr. Brewer got killed right off. I heard the odds was thirteen to one. Mr. Middleton took a shot in the chest, too, but he’s on the mend.” Richard Brewer had been a foreman of Tunstall’s. Brax had liked the man, admired the way he

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tackled hard work. “Was Blazer’s still being used as headquarters for the Mescalero Indian agency?” Ned nodded. “Except for the fight, everything’s stayed pretty much the same.” Moses was wiggling, trying to reach a hand to the inkwell on the counter. Brax held him back while he spoke. “Okay. I’m not going by Blazer’s Mill. Not with those Regulators acting like a bunch of green vigilantes. If you had to get this baby home safe to my place, what road would you take?” “I wouldn’t go there at all,” the cashier told him. “I’d head on over to McSween’s, on account of he’s built a twelve-foot-high adobe wall around the place. Or I’d hightail it out to one of Mr. Chisum’s ranches.” He smiled. “I heard most of your cowhands have gathered at either the Bosque Grande or South Spring River, anyway.” “Thanks.” Brax hefted Moses with one arm. The baby tried to remove a handful of his mustache. Used to Moses’s antics, he ducked his head and chuckled. “I need some milk, molasses and cornmeal. Is Tunstall’s store open?” “Nope.” The cashier looked worried. “If I was you, I’d get my supplies at Montano’s or Isaac Ellis’s. That is, unless you want to meet up with the rowdy boys over at Dolan’s.” “Not on a bet,” Brax said. “And thanks for your help.” “Glad to be of service, Mr. Rutledge. I remember when my pa got hurt real bad. You gave us a beef so we could get by for the winter. Ma cried, she was so happy.”

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Brax disengaged Moses’s fist for the third time and held it. “That was a long time ago, Ned.” “Not so long that I don’t still owe you,” he said. “You need anything else, you just ask.” Seeing the young man’s earnest expression, Brax smiled. “You don’t know how to take care of babies, do you?” “Uh. No, sir. But my ma does. She loves ‘em.” “Then if I need help, I’ll know just where to go,” Brax said. “For now, me and my little compadre are doing fine.” He grew serious. “More trouble starts, you keep your head down, son. Your mother needs you. This fight’s not yours. Hell, it’s not anybody’s.” “Mr. McSween says it’s a matter of justice over might.” “Justice doesn’t do you a whole lot of good if you’re dead, boy. Lots of honest men aren’t breathin’ anymore. A bullet doesn’t stop to ask whose side you’re on—it just kills you. You remember that.” “Yes, sir.” Brax turned to leave, then paused. “If a pretty, kind of red-haired woman comes lookin’ for me, you send her to the South Spring River, you hear?” “Yes, sir. Anybody wants you, I’ll tell ‘em you’re at Mr. Chisum’s.” He shook his head. “No. Not just anybody, Ned. There’s a few folks I’d just as soon not see till I’ve been warned they’re around.”

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“Then how will I know if it’s the right lady? Suppose I tell the wrong one?” “You’ll have to use your own best judgment.” Brax held up his hand. “The lady I mean is about so high, real pretty and not likely to take no for an answer. If she reminds you of a cross between a cornered bobcat and a school teacher, you’ve probably got the right gal.” Ned was trying so hard to keep from laughing he nearly choked. “Shall I tell her what you said?” “Not if you value my life, like you said you did a bit ago.” Brax noticed that Moses was beginning to doze off. He gently pressed the baby’s head to rest on his broad shoulder. “He’s real taken with you, Mr. Rutledge,” the cashier said. “Is he yours?” “In a manner of speaking,” Brax said sadly. “When the time comes for him to go, I’m sure gonna miss him.” “So, let him stay. If he’s a stray, just do like we do with dogies. Make him yours and keep him.” “Yeah.” Nodding slowly, Brax left the bank. A motherless calf was one thing; dogies were a fact of the open range. A motherless human baby was quite another. Someone would eventually come to claim Moses. Brax knew it wouldn’t be hard for him to deny Caleb Stone his rights to the baby but what about Ruby? Of the two, she was the one to raise little Moses, no matter what the law said. The trouble was, she was still wanted for murder in Kansas.

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His throat tightened. Wherever Ruby happened to be at the moment, detectives were only days away, possibly less, thanks to Tillie’s foolishness. Heavy-hearted, Brax swung into the saddle and headed down the street to Montano’s store. He never should have let Ruby talk him into staying behind in Pueblo. It was his pride, not his intellect, that had turned his decision to her way of thinking. Hell, he’d known better than to let her go off alone with no other protection than a green kid and a girl even less worldly than herself. So why had he given in? Because she’d made him feel as if she didn’t need him, he realized, and it had hurt like the devil. He held Moses closer. If circumstances didn’t work out so that Ruby could take over, he might wind up raising the boy as his own. Although that idea should have thrilled him, Brax found it only deepened the emptiness in his heart.

RUBY HAD quickly learned that traveling alone in a strange land was more than dangerous, it was foolhardy. She’d lost the trail over and over until she’d finally decided to give her horse his head and see where he took her. The result was her eventual arrival at Anton Chico. Hospitable residents took her in as if she were a long-lost friend. Manuelita Perea finished sweeping the dirt floor of her one room cottage as Ruby comforted a toddler

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who had just arrived in tears, sporting a skinned knee. Ruby dried the child’s tears with the hem of her skirt and kissed away the hurt while speaking to her hostess. “I thank you so much for all your hospitality.” “It is nothing.” Manuelita scooped up her still sniffling child and balanced him on one hip. Two older siblings were now clinging to the folds of their mother’s skirt. Seeing the shy interest of one of them, Ruby held out her arms. The little boy came to her. She picked him up, spoke softly, and let him touch her hair. “They like the rojo—red—Señorita,” the young mother explained. “My niña, Rosa, wants me to have another baby. Like the one we saw yesterday.” She laughed. “I told her that I would try.” “A baby?” Ruby had planned to ask about Moses as soon as she was sure it was safe to do so. After Tillie’s death, the danger had greatly increased. Inquiries had to be both discrete and limited, or Ruby might place herself in jeopardy. She couldn’t help Moses and Brax if she wound up in custody. Or worse. Moreover, her plans to trap Stone would be thwarted if she weren’t present to carry them out. Manuelita was regarding her seriously. “Si, Señorita. A baby with no mamacita.” “Did he have blond hair and blue eyes?” “Azul ojos. Si.” She looked puzzled. “What is blond?” “Yellow,” Ruby said. Pointing to a stripe in the woman’s shawl, she added, “Like this.”

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“Ah, amaria.” Ruby sensed a sudden caution, as if by asking questions about Moses she had somehow alienated herself. “He would be with a dark-haired man,” she said. “Brax Rutledge. We got separated. I’m trying to catch up with him.” The Mexican woman rocked the little one in her arms and stared at Ruby. “You go slow?” “I’ve been in Las Vegas,” Ruby said, deciding to offer only a partial explanation. “Someone there told me Brax had my baby. I took a chance he might have come this way.” Manuelita nodded. “Señor Brax, he thinks you go faster than him.” Gesturing with her hand she searched for the English words she needed. “You are late—tarde.” “Tardy? Yes. I see what you mean.” The excitement Ruby felt spilled over into her speech. “I left Brax behind in Pueblo. Of course he’d think I was ahead of him!” The young woman set her squirming child down and waited for Ruby to continue. “I stopped along the way to look for my baby. I guess Brax must have caught up and passed me.” She laid a hand lightly over Manuelita’s. “Was he all right—Brax, I mean? Is his leg healing?” “Si. He is your man, eh?” “Oh, no. I mean...We’re friends. But we aren’t sweethearts.” “So you say.” Manuelita grinned. “He loves the baby.”

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Ruby didn’t know what to say. “He does? How do you know?” “A mother knows.” She patted her chest over her heart. “A woman knows.” “Brax had a wife, once,” Ruby said. “She is muerto. Dead. I heard him tell my husband.” “He still loves her. I’m certain of it.” Manuelita nodded sagely. “Perhaps. But she can no longer warm his bed and cook for him. Or hear the words of his heart.” “I could never replace her.” “Come with me,” the woman said. Handing her baby to an older girl who had remained in the background, she started outside. Politely, Ruby followed. The noon-day sun beat down on dry terrain the same color as the adobe houses. A bawling milk cow stood tethered in the back of the small plot, its dark hide taut over its bones. Crossing a narrow ravine, Manuelita paused to pick some delicate white flowers that reminded Ruby of anise. “Yarrow,” the young mother explained. “For my babies.” Slowing, she laid the fresh flowers atop two small mounds of dirt. Wooden crosses marked their heads. “I’m so sorry.” Ruby stared at the bleak scene.

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“I loved them. When they died, I grieved.” Crossing herself, she kneeled for a moment in prayer, then straightened. “The niños and niñas I have now will never take the place of my Maria and Luis, but I love them, too. One goes back to heaven and another comes. They are not the same. God does not mean them to be. He only offers love. It is up to us to take it.” Ruby understood what the woman was trying to say. “I know I can’t expect to be like Annie Rutledge.” Shading her eyes, she looked across the miles to the purple mountains. “It would be foolish to try.” Thoughtful, Ruby considered the wisdom of her own words. A happy future with Brax was impossible. He already knew too much about her past. Already disapproved of the way she was handling her private war with Caleb Stone. Even if she gave up her quest for justice and managed to convince Brax to run away with her and the baby, there would always be the threat of discovery. Of ruin. He had a ranch. Responsibilities. It wasn’t fair to ask him to leave behind everything he’d worked so hard for. She should have realized long ago that trials like hers must be faced alone. Sadly, Ruby tuned to Manuelita. “Do you know where Brax has gone?” “Si. He takes the boy home.” She smiled as she squeezed her new friend’s fingers. “My Rigoberto is guiding a man of God and his family through the mountains to Fort Stanton. You will be safe if you ride

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with them.” Safe? How safe would the others be if she joined their party? Pulling away, she stepped back. “I don’t know, I...” “The Reverend Mr. Ealy is traveling with his wife and two children. It will be no sin to go with them.” Ruby couldn’t deny that common sense. “When do they expect to leave? I don’t want to delay too long.” “In the morning. To wait is best. You will not lose your way again if my Rigoberto takes you.” “All right.” Ruby sighed. Every moment’s hesitation caused her anxiety to grow. Still, she could do no one any good if she wasted precious time wandering in the desert. The plains of Kansas had seemed empty until she’d encountered the wild lands of the Territory. Here, even the grass was sparse. Water was a luxury no longer taken for granted. Manuelita had blessed the tiny graves, turned and started back to the house. Watching her go, Ruby was touched by the woman’s candor and her quiet acceptance of the ebb and flow of life. Venturing back to the arroyo, Ruby picked a few more flowers from the abundance flourishing there, returned, and placed them carefully on the graves.

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TAYLOR and Mary Ealy were the very essence of a missionary and his wife; he bearded, taciturn and zealous, she plump, supportive and subservient. Ruby assisted them as much as they would allow, sometimes taking care of their four-year-old, Glory, while Mary Ealy watched over baby Grace, her other daughter. Mary was full of tales of their misadventures since leaving Pennsylvania. Listening with as much grace as she could muster, Ruby understood why Rigoberto had lied and claimed no understanding of the English language. When the party decided to pause at Fort Stanton before proceeding on to their assignment in Lincoln, Ruby took her leave. Taylor Ealy was brushing dust off his black frock coat when she approached. “Reverend?” “Yes, child?” “As much as I have enjoyed your family’s company, I must press on. I want to thank you for your kindness.” “Mary will miss you, child,” he said, straightening and stroking a hand over his beard. “Perhaps, if God wills that we all live and prosper, we shall meet again.” “I hope so,” Ruby told him. “I may have business in Lincoln. When you’re settled there, perhaps we

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can visit.” Taylor Ealy merely nodded. Ruby turned away. Lincoln was a half-day’s journey ahead along a wellmarked road. She’d wasted enough time. Brax and the baby had to be close by. Eager to be on her way, she sought out their Mexican guide to be sure she understood his directions, bid Mary a tearful farewell, and rode on alone.

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Chapter 20 RUBY saw three rifle-toting men on the flat roof of the bank when she entered Lincoln. No children ran and played. No women chatted outside the mercantile. No men sat whittling on the loafer’s benches outside the saloons and barber shop. Because of the hot afternoon, Ruby had tucked her long hair under her hat. Seeing the armed ruffians riding through town, she was glad she had. The less she resembled a gentlewoman, the better off she’d probably be. Dismounting in front of the bank, she looked around, saw no one close by, and entered. Tendrils of hair were plastered to her damp forehead by perspiration. She fantasized about gladly paying every penny she had for the luxury of a bath. The absurd idea was so vivid, so appealing, it was humorous. The bank’s lone employee regarded her with a look better suited to a man encountering a riled-up polecat in his formal parlor. Judging from what little she could see of herself reflected in the thick glass of his spectacles, it was just as well there were no mirrors handy. “Excuse me, young man,” Ruby said. “I’m looking for someone. His ranch is in the area. I thought perhaps he had an account here.”

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“We don’t give out that kind of information,” young Ned said flatly. “Quite right. Very commendable.” Ruby took out a handkerchief and patted her cheeks. “I’m afraid I must look a sight.” To his credit, he refrained from comment. Ruby had already determined how she was going to represent herself in Lincoln. She’d practiced on the Ealys until the false identity sounded natural to her. The new alias would do nicely, at least until she found Brax and he disowned her. Pocketing the handkerchief, she extended her hand. “I have some money I want to deposit. Will you kindly open an account for me. My name is Mrs. Braxton Rutledge.” The astonished look on the young man’s face proved she was in the right place. His Herculean efforts at self-control were so comical she almost burst into giggles. “You’re Brax’s wife? From down on the Ruidoso?” “I’m originally from Bedford Springs, Pennsylvania,” she said, borrowing the Ealy’s hometown because she now knew so much about it, thanks to Mary’s incessant babbling. “My dear husband and I were separated. I promised to meet him here.” “Brax didn’t say anything about a wife.” Ruby decided to play her trump card. “Knowing my husband, he was probably too busy showing off the baby, wasn’t he?” Joy and relief filled her as the cashier nodded. “I thought so. Did you notice how

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blue the baby’s eyes are? He takes after my side of the family.” “Yes, ma’am. They were a real pretty blue.” Glad that he seemed to have temporarily forgotten her ruse of opening an account, Ruby smiled sweetly at him, trying to project an innocence she certainly wasn’t feeling. Lying, in any form, went against her strong moral principles. “Then, you’ll direct me to my husband’s ranch?” “Yes, ma’am. I mean, no, ma’am. He—Brax—isn’t there. He’s gone over to Chisum’s South Spring River ranch.” “I’ve heard of that place,” she said truthfully. “Is it hard to find?” “Not if you know the country, which you don’t, you being from back east and all.” Ned thought a moment. “There’s a Miss Lily Casey visitin’ over to McSweens. Her folks’ place is on the way to Chisum’s. They’re real good friends. I’ll bet she’d be glad to show you.” “Where did you say I could find Miss Casey?” Ruby was so eager to be on her way she had to force herself to remain calm and civil. “At Lawyer McSween’s.” He hastily scribbled a few lines on a piece of paper. “Give her this note and tell her Ned Woods sent you.” Ruby’s heart fell. “You say this McSween is a lawyer?” She wanted nothing to do with the judicial system until she held the damning evidence in her hand and was ready to make Stone’s crime public.

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Ned nodded vigorously and folded the note before handing it to her. “He’s over to the fort right now but his wife is home. Mrs. Shields, too. Mr. Shields and Mr. McSween are partners.” “Both lawyers?” “Yes, ma’am.” “I see.” Stuffing the note into her pocket, Ruby managed a smile. “Is there any way I could get directions to the Chisum ranch without bothering Miss Casey? I hate to be a nuisance.” “Oh, no, ma’am.” Ned came out from behind the teller’s window and escorted her to the door which he graciously opened. “Brax would skin me if he thought I’d let you ride out there alone. I don’t mean to worry you, but there’s been trouble in the county. It’s not a good idea to go wandering off unless you know for sure where you’re bound. Or who your friends are.” As if to emphasize his warning, he pointed down the street and to the east. “See that real high adobe wall? Mr. McSween’s house lies behind that.” “It—it looks like a fort.” “In a manner of speaking, it is.” “Is it safe for me to go there?” Ruby pictured herself as the innocent victim of a feud in which she had no part. Ned leaned out the door, signaled to an armed man across the street on the front balcony of the

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Wortley Hotel, and took Ruby’s arm. “Come on. Olinger’ll watch the bank for me. I’ll walk you over.” As they crossed the wide, dusty street, Ruby had to run to keep up with Ned’s strides. His apparent fear was contagious. The town itself seemed menacing. How could people stand to live under such dire conditions? Surely, the constant threat of mayhem drove away all but the most valiant. What could Brax have been thinking of, bringing Moses into such terrible danger? Ruby vowed that as soon as she’d reached the Chisum place and reclaimed what was hers, she and Moses were getting out of Lincoln County. Fast. She wasn’t going to stand by and see the innocent baby’s life endangered. Even if fleeing meant she’d have to temporarily abandon her plans to entrap Caleb Stone. The more she thought about what Brax had done, the angrier she became. How dare he subject poor Moses to a place like this! Just wait till she caught up with him. A horrid thought crossed her mind. Suppose Brax had used the baby to lure her here, intending to turn her over to the Marshall he’d mentioned? She stiffened, her hand unconsciously coming to rest on the butt of the revolver strapped low on her hip. Ruby’s every instinct insisted she run away. But she couldn’t. Not yet. She had to continue her quest, rescue Moses, and hope that Brax still had Emma’s journal. Once she’d recovered that, she could do as she pleased. Ned paused outside thick, wooden gates and hallooed the house. A reply came. The gate swung back.

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Ruby tried to thank the cashier and found he was already departing. At a run. Stomach churning, she stepped through the portal. The McSween dwelling was a double house; a large, wood-frame building designed for two families. It was surrounded by lovely spring flowers. The makings of a small vegetable garden lay off to one side. If the house hadn’t been located in the midst of a make-shift fort with armed men patrolling its walls, it would have been really quite elegant. Ruby smoothed her skirt and threw back her shoulders. It wouldn’t do to appear as frightened as she felt. Mrs. Braxton Rutledge had no reason to be afraid. She was simply on her way home to a loving husband. Hurrying up to the front door, she fixed a smile on her face and knocked.

WHEN CALEB entered the gates of Fort Stanton and made his esteemed presence known, the Sergeant of the Guard escorted him to the commanding officer, Col. Nathan A.M. Dudley. Dusting off his black frock coat with marginal success, Caleb regarded the pompous little man with well-disguised disdain. The officer’s mustache was far too big for his face and his dress uniform, obviously hastily donned in order to receive his distinguished visitor, was not up to snuff. Such was life on the frontier, Caleb supposed. He nodded a polite greeting and waited while Col.

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Dudley read the letter of introduction he’d brought from Governor Axtell in Santa Fe. The colonel offered Caleb a chair, waited till he was seated, then placed himself behind his massive desk. “How may I help you, Mr. Stone?” Rankled, Caleb let the omission of his title slide, for the present. “I have reason to believe my young son is being held prisoner, somewhere near here.” “How old is the boy?” Dudley reached for a humidor. “Cigar?” “No, thank you.” The colonel withdrew one for himself. Biting off the ends, he spit them aside, missing the spittoon by several feet. “Moses is a babe in arms,” Caleb said. “My wife died shortly after he was born.” Waiting for the usual expression of sympathy, Caleb was surprised to note that the other man merely accepted Emma’s death as if it made no difference. “It was a terrible shock to me,” Caleb added. “Of course, of course.” Propping one boot on the desk, Dudley leaned back in his chair, inhaled the smoke from his cigar and blew it out in rings and swirls. “Go on.” “The baby was stolen.” Caleb arose and cradled his injured arm as he began to pace. “My sister-inlaw cost me my hand in her attempt to kidnap the child. She was also wanted for murder in Kansas. Since

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she’s now dead and buried, however, that’s of no consequence.” He paused, facing the laconic colonel. “I have no idea who has the child, nor where it might be. The last time the baby was seen was in Las Vegas.” “Why come to me? Why not go to Fort Sumner?” “I intend to, eventually,” Caleb said, deciding to keep his latest divine revelation to himself. “I had other business to see to in Lincoln County. I thought it wise to stop here to advise you of my son’s disappearance and enlist your help.” The colonel snorted derisively. He handed the territorial governor’s letter back to Caleb. “I have quite enough to do, already, Judge. I’ll keep alert to your problem. If I hear news of any strange goings-on involving a baby, I’ll look into it.” Using one hand, Caleb folded the letter against the desk top before slipping it back into his coat pocket. “Thank you. I’m sure Governor Axtell will be glad to hear that. We’ve been close friends for years.” Dudley seemed to ponder the claim for an inordinately long time before he said, “You know, Judge, my wife has been badgering me to invite some stimulating guests to dinner ever since we arrived here last month. We’d be honored if you’d join us for our evening meal. A man of the cloth and his wife have already consented. I’m sure you’d enjoy the evening.” He rose and clapped Caleb on the shoulder.

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“Please? Mrs. Dudley will be terribly disappointed if you refuse.” Caleb considered the possible good the colonel could do for him and how weary he was of travel. Although his days of temptation in the wilderness hadn’t yet totaled the Lord’s forty, they had been emotionally and physically draining. “All right.” Extending his hand, Caleb deigned to let the colonel shake it. “If you’ll direct me to quarters, I’ll rid myself of some of this trail dust and prepare to meet your charming wife.” “Good! Good!” Dudley escorted him out into the yard and across the parade grounds to a row of houses that served as the officer’s quarters. Curious, Caleb asked, “What is the clergyman’s name? Perhaps I know him.” “I doubt it,” Dudley replied with a sardonic chuckle. “He’s recently arrived from the east. Quite a greenhorn. You should have heard him complaining about the inconvenience along the way. I told him he should have waited another year or so and ridden the railroad.” Caleb nodded. He knew a great deal about the coming of the rails, thanks to his connections in Washington and Santa Fe. His own pockets had been lined quite substantially, already, and he was looking forward to many more lucrative transactions. Land he’d bought for pennies would be worth a small fortune before any track was laid. He chuckled to himself, wondering if the idiot colonel had bothered to invest for himself. Probably

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not. Laying aside his thoughts of monetary gain, Caleb paused, thankful for a certain newspaper editor’s timely demise. The story of graft the man had threatened to print could have proved quite embarrassing— and costly—if he’d lived long enough to publish it. “Here we are,” Dudley said, pushing open the door to a small, divided house at the end of the rocklined pathway. “You’ll be sharing with two of my junior officers. If they give you any trouble, tell me and I’ll see they’re sleeping with the enlisted men by nightfall.” Chuckling, he tossed the half-smoked cigar into the powdery, red dust beside the porch. “I’ll have your horse seen to and your gear delivered to you here. We dine at dusk. My orderly will call for you as soon as the colors are lowered.” “I’ll be ready.” “Good, good.” The colonel pumped Caleb’s hand once more. “I’m looking forward to it, Judge Stone. I’m certain you’ll like the Reverend Mr. Ealy.”

PEARCE WAS glad he’d insisted on personally escorting Sarah back to her job at Harvey House, because that meant he’d been present to defend her virtue. And to subsequently take her away with him when she was fired. It was preposterous that anyone would doubt the purity and honesty of an innocent girl like Sarah Kussner. There was no one Pearce admired more, save his own mother.

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He and a much subdued Sarah had arrived at the Hocker home in Kansas City to find it empty. After a revealing confrontation with his father at the bank, Pearce had rented a buggy and he and Sarah had started for the McKay farm to visit Nancy. Splitlog’s Hill was one of the few rises of land west of Kansas City and Wyandotte. Because water was plentiful, the area was perfect for small farms. The gathering of homes had grown into a looselyformed township. An invasion of grasshoppers a few years past had left every tree stripped bare and the fields leveled, but the advent of Spring was helping the land heal. The country was greening up, the sun warm. Pearce was so glad to be home he felt like whistling. He amiably patted Sarah’s hand to cheer her. “You’ll like Mother.” “I’m sure I will.” “Then why are you trembling?” “I’m not,” she lied. “Don’t worry. My mother’s not a bit like those folks in Topeka,” Pearce said, closing his fingers around her gloved ones. Sarah smiled slightly. “Thank goodness.” “Try not to look down on her because of the divorce. She couldn’t help what my father decided to

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do.” “Of course not, you silly goose. I could tell your pa’s very forceful.” Pearce sobered, thinking. “I wish I were more like him, sometimes.” “Well, I don’t. ‘Scuse me for saying so, but he’s a hard, hard man. You shouldn’t ever want to be like that.” Releasing her hand, Pearce reined the horse around a curve and hurried it along. “If I were, it would make my life easier.” “Easier don’t...I mean, does not...mean better. You’re a fine man just as you are, Mr. Hocker.” Smiling, he glanced over at her. The Kansas sun had kissed her cheeks to a rosy hue. Her eyes sparkled like a rippling brook as its eddies caught and reflected the brightness of the sky. An overwhelming sadness gripped him. “I should have left you in Topeka,” he said. “Why? There was nothing there for me, anymore.” He shook his head. “We could have found you another job if that was what you wanted.” Pearce felt his heart lurch. How little anyone’s personal wants really mattered. If only duty were not such a hard master. He glanced over at his lovely, trusting companion. What a coward he was. The longer he delayed, the

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harder it would be to tell her. But he couldn’t speak of his decision. Not yet. Not until he’d discussed it with his mother and received her blessing. Pearce knew there wasn’t much chance she’d disapprove. Nancy Hocker had raised him to be the man he was; to take responsibility. While he knew he’d be doing the right thing, that assurance didn’t make telling Sarah about it any easier. The familiar McKay house lay ahead, its fruit trees in glorious blossom, its fields freshly tilled. If Pearce had not seen it in years past, when it was under the sure hand of Ruby’s farmer father, he would have thought it absolutely top-notch, now. Sarah clapped her hands together as they came to a halt out front. “Oh, Pearce, it’s so pretty here! What a lovely place to live.” “I’m glad my mother had somewhere to go when Father showed his true colors,” he said. He helped Sarah down, his hands lingering on her waist long enough to elicit a shy smile from her. Jerking his hands away, Pearce cursed under his breath. Damn it. Stop making it worse, he ordered his fast-beating heart. You can’t call her your sister, then treat her like your sweetheart. It’s not fair, especially to her. Games of the heart are what caused all the suffering everyone’s been experiencing. Don’t make the same mistake again. You haven’t yet cleaned up your last mess. Chagrined, Pearce led the way to the house. A man didn’t have to be as omniscient as God to see that

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Sarah belonged somewhere else...with a man who could offer her a secure future. She deserved a decent husband and a family of her own, both of which she’d never find with him. He had responsibilities to fulfill. By the time he was free of them, Sarah’s youth would be long past. It didn’t matter that he was strongly attracted to her and she apparently also cared for him. She would get over her infatuation. As soon as he was certain his mother lacked for nothing, he intended to escort Sarah back to her family, or wherever else she fancied, and bid her a final good-bye. Before he could knock on the front door it flew open. Nancy, squealing with delight, launched herself into his open arms. “Pearce! Oh, Lord. I was so afraid for you!” “I’m fine, Mother. Really.” When he was able to disengage himself he turned to Sarah. “I’d like you to meet Miss Sarah Kussner; a friend.” Nancy dabbed at tears of joy with the corner of her apron then opened her arms to embrace Sarah, too. “Welcome, dear. Both of you, come in. Come in. It’ll just take me two shakes to whip up supper.” She took Sarah’s hand and led the way inside. “You’ll stay, of course. It will be such a blessing to have another woman to talk to.” “Where are Nellie and the others?” Pearce asked. He saw Nancy’s hand tighten on Sarah’s. “Gone,” his mother said. “We buried your new little brother shortly after you left. Mr. Hocker sent

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the rest of the children away to school, all except for Nellie. She’s living with a friend in Missouri.” Hearing a wagon approaching, Pearce tensed. His weeks of flight and adventure had taken their toll on his otherwise placid nature. He nervously peered out the open door. After what his mother had just told him, he couldn’t believe his eyes. “No, she’s not!” he exclaimed, stepping back out onto the porch. “Nellie’s here.” Running down the steps and across the yard with shouts of greeting he nearly spooked the horses. He led his sister inside while Nancy wept for joy. Even Sarah, who had barely met the other two women, shed tears of empathetic delight. Pearce noticed that she’d moved off to stand alone so he gently drew her back into the family circle. Nancy finally calmed herself enough to take Nellie’s hands. She led her to the sofa where they sat side-by-side. “I’m surprised that Mr. Wills let you come all this way alone.” “Oh, he objected, of course,” Nellie said, “but he has to keep the bookstore open. I simply couldn’t wait till Sunday to tell you the wonderful news!” Pausing, she laughed, her elation pulsating throughout the room. “It’s a wonder I found you, way out here. If it hadn’t been for Mrs. Plunkett, I wouldn’t have known where to look.” “What wonderful news?” Nancy asked. “Is Mr. Wills sending you somewhere for more schooling? I’d hoped...”

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“Schooling? Oh, no, Mother.” The young girl blushed, lowering her lashes. “We’re in love. I’m planning to marry him!” The silence that fell over the room made the hairs on the back of Pearce’s neck stand on end. Judging from the look on his mother’s face, Nellie’s choice of a husband did not meet with her approval. As the only man present, he felt he should speak up. “Whoever this gentleman is, Mother, I’m sure Nellie has made a good choice. After all, she’s your daughter.” “My daughter,” Nancy muttered. “Yes.” She sighed. “Yes, she is, isn’t she?” Eyes wide, she stared at Nellie. “It’s certain, then?” “Oh, yes. We’ve spoken of love many times. He hasn’t gotten up the courage to ask for my hand yet, but I know he will. He’s so worldly, so understanding. I can see why you...well, you know.” Pearce was lost. “Maybe Mother knows, but I don’t. Tell me what’s going on here.” It was Nancy who spoke, her voice unusually calm. “Rias Wills is the old love I confessed to you on our way home from Emma’s funeral. When your sister ran afoul of Caleb Stone, I sent her to Missouri so she’d be safe. She was supposed to work at Mr. Wills’s bookstore.” Nancy paused, a catch in her throat. “I just never dreamed...” “Well, why not?” Nellie demanded. “I’m entitled to happiness, too. Just because you and Father fight

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all the time doesn’t mean a marriage can’t be happy.” “They’ll not be fighting anymore,” Pearce told his sister. “Father is divorcing her. That’s why she’s staying out here all by herself.” Incredulous, Nellie stared at her mother. “Is that true?” Nancy nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me? You wrote every week and you never let on. Why not?” “I didn’t want to worry anyone.” “You mean worry Rias, don’t you?” Nellie asked, her tone strident. “You didn’t want Rias to know about the divorce. Not until you were free. Then, you were going to set your cap for him, weren’t you?” “Of course not.” “I don’t believe you!” Jumping to her feet, Nellie ran to the door. “Well don’t think you can ruin it for me, do you hear? Mr. Wills and I are going to be married. You can’t stop us.” Pearce started after the girl as she darted out the door. His mother’s hand on his arm stopped him. “Let her go.” Resolutely, Nancy faced her eldest son. “Don’t let your sister’s interruption spoil what you two were going to tell me.” “You mean the news that Ruby is well?” he asked. “Is she? I’m glad. And Moses?”

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“Fine, as far as we know. Miss Ruby said to tell you not to worry. She’ll write as soon as she’s out of danger.” Nancy nodded. “That’s fine. I hadn’t really expected much more. But what about you and Sarah?” Puzzled, Pearce furrowed his brow. “Sarah? She’s a friend. I told you that.” “I know, but...” Nancy walked over to the young woman. “Forgive me. My son has never brought a girl home for me to meet and I thought, perhaps...” Pearce understood the mistake his mother was making and why she was confused. He knew he should have prepared Sarah for what was to come by at least hinting at his plans. Now it was too late for that. “Miss Kussner and I have been like brother and sister,” he said, repeating the pat phrases he’d used before. “I swear to you, that’s all.” “You needn’t swear anything,” Nancy told him. “When two young people are in love, sometimes...” “No!” Surprised at the force of his emotions, Pearce hated himself for the look of complete dejection that had come over poor Sarah. Oh, how he wished it could be different for them. He would give anything to make his mother’s predictions come true; anything except his only son. “I don’t understand,” Nancy said. “I know Moses is my son. I won’t shirk my duty.” Pearce looked to Sarah for understanding and watched in agony as the seriousness of his statement began to dawn on her. He went on, “It’s my

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responsibility to care for him for the rest of my life and that’s exactly what I plan to do. I know Miss Ruby feels the same way. If she’ll have me, I intend to take her to be my wife. It’s the only honorable way out.” He saw Sarah’s face blanche, her fingers tightly gripping Nancy’s. Nancy Hocker stared at her son. “And how does Ruby feel about all this?” “I don’t know yet. But I’ve given it a lot of thought. My skills as a banker will come in handy in a place like San Francisco. I’ll take her and Moses there. We’ll change our names. We’ll be safe as long as Stone can’t trace us.” “That will mean cutting all ties,” Nancy reminded him. “I know.” Slowly, he turned his back on the unbearable signs of pain in the faces of his mother and the girl he loved.

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Chapter 21 IT DIDN’T take Ruby long to realize that sixteen-year-old Lily Casey not only knew every living soul in and around Lincoln, she was also determined to spread the word that Brax Rutledge had finally taken a new wife. Consequently, by the time Ruby and the girl rode into the yard of John Chisum’s ranch, faster riders had preceded them and a noisy welcoming committee awaited. Blushing and wishing she’d appropriated a different name, any name other than Brax’s, Ruby rode slowly past the adobe corrals to a chorus of hurrahs and whistles. The crowd of men parted like the waves of the Red Sea had for the biblical Moses, leaving only a narrow lane by which to proceed. Ruby led the way, noticing too late that Lily had dropped back, deserting her. A grizzled, stooped old ranch hand stepped forward and took hold of the bridle of Ruby’s horse so she could dismount. She shifted nervously in the saddle. Leather creaked. Surely, Brax would be angry at her for causing all this furor with her foolish lie. Penitent, she sat stock still and held her breath, not sure whether she should step down or stay mounted and use her horse to try to push her way out of the throng. A hush fell over the men. Looking for the reason, Ruby saw a tall, compelling figure elbowing his

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way toward her. His gray hat sat low on his forehead. Though the heavy coat she was used to seeing him wear was missing due to the hot weather, there was no doubt in her heart or mind that the man was Brax Rutledge. Trying unsuccessfully to remain calm and demure, Ruby felt a smile of relief begin to lift the corners of her mouth. His mustache had grown a lot since she’d last seen him. She strongly suspected Brax was grinning beneath its turned-down corners. When he reached her and raised his face to hers, she saw with immense joy that she was right. “Hello, Brax.” He swept his hat off his head in a wide arc, bowed, then replaced it, his eyes sparkling. “Wife.” “I’m sorry, I...” “Hush.” Grasping her around the waist with both hands he lifted her easily, stepping back to lower her slowly to the ground. Ruby’s hat fell off, hung by its leather chin-strap. Her hands went naturally to Brax’s shoulders. His flesh was hard and warm beneath her fingers as she slid her arms around his neck and held fast. She cherished the fleeting seconds, the wondrous perfection of his nearness. If Brax had intended to keep her at arms’ length, he gave no indication of it. His embrace tightened, pulling her to his chest without hesitation.

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Thinking with her heart, not her mind, Ruby lifted her gaze to his, her lips slightly parted. No longer was she trying to remember the women’s wiles Tillie had taught her. And no longer was she cognizant of her earlier perception of a lifetime spent alone. Now, there was only Brax; Brax’s aura, Brax’s eyes, Brax’s powerful body, Brax’s dear face. His eyes darkened. He lowered his head and claimed her mouth with a kiss so hungry that Ruby wondered if perhaps she had died and this was the heaven she’d heard so much about. How could anything, anywhere, be sweeter? The wide brim of his hat hid their kiss somewhat. In its shadow, Ruby dared open her eyes and drink in the precious sight of him. If she lived an additional hundred years she doubted she’d ever again experience such untainted bliss. His hands stroked her back. “I was afraid you wouldn’t find me,” he said against her hair. “I was afraid, too.” “But now you’re safe.” The strength of Brax’s embrace was making it hard to breathe. Ruby pushed away a fraction. “Where’s Moses?” “He’s fine. Down at Long House.” Brax glanced over his shoulder and nodded. “Over there. I’ll take you.”

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“Please do.” Fatigued from her long, worrisome ride and weak from the brief contact with the man who had still not released her, Ruby leaned on him. He turned and escorted her through the crowd while the ranch hands offered ribald suggestions for their future and raucous, back-slapping congratulations. Thankfully, everyone dropped back to permit them some privacy before they reached the house. “I’m sorry about using your name,” Ruby said quietly. “I just couldn’t think of a better way to travel safely and still be able to locate you when I arrived.” He gave her shoulders a quick squeeze. “It was a stroke of genius. Everybody who saw me with Moses figured there had to be a woman involved.” Brax chuckled. “There usually is.” “What did you tell them?” “Nothing. I let them guess.” He laughed again. “Some of their ideas got mighty wild.” “Will they be very angry when we tell them that we’re not really married? I wouldn’t want to cause trouble between you and your friends.” Stopping, Brax turned her to face him. “We aren’t going to tell anybody anything. Not yet. As long as they all think you’re my wife, you’ll be safe. The last thing I need is for every randy cowpoke for miles around to decide you’re fair game.” “You know I would never encourage such feelings.” Grinning broadly, Brax touched a fingertip to the end of her nose. “The way you look, now, probably

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only fifty or so would be smitten. But give you a bath and clean clothes and I’d probably have to stand off the whole damn county—or worse.” “Oh, dear.” Ruby touched her hair. It felt every bit as bad as she’d imagined. “I must look a fright.” “Since husbands are supposed to be truthful, yes, you do,” Brax told her with a tender smile. “But I know what’s hidden under all that trail dust.” He took her arm. “Would you like to go in and see Moses? He’ll probably be sleeping. He usually takes a siesta about the time the rest of us do.” Brax started across the cool porch into the house. Manuelita’s earlier reference to a mid-afternoon nap sprang to Ruby’s mind. “I heard a lot of foreignsounding words in town and out by the barns just now. Was that Spanish?” “Probably. Some of the men speak Mescalero Apache. They mix that with Mexican Spanish and English, too. You’ll catch on.” “I probably would if I were going to stay here,” Ruby said, following him down a dark hallway. She held her breath as he pushed open the door to a small, brightly furnished room. Moses lay sleeping in a cradle that was nearly too small for him. Next to the inside wall was a narrow bed, neatly made. “Does his nursemaid sleep there?” Ruby asked. “I sleep there,” Brax said flatly. “When I’m working, one of Chisum’s cooks looks after him for me. Now that you’re here, that won’t be necessary.”

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“I guess you didn’t understand me,” Ruby said, looking up at him. “I’m not going to stay. Moses and I are leaving.” “I heard you perfectly. It’s you who don’t understand.” Brax had moved to block the doorway with his body. “This whole territory is about to explode in a range war. It’s impossible to tell the law from the outlaws. Hell, some of them are the same men. You can’t leave now. It’s too dangerous.” “Well, I certainly can’t stay here.” Ruby set her jaw. “You’ll not compromise me.” Brax’s cynical laugh sent jolts of energy singing along her spine and into her core. “Compromise my own wife?” “You know what I mean.” The sting of his rejection in Pueblo still hurt. “You made it quite clear you wanted to have nothing permanent between us. In retrospect, I totally agree. My life won’t stand involvement, either.” “Fine.” He stepped back. “Just remember what happened to Tillie when she used your name.” A chill shot through Ruby. “I’ll never forget it.” “Then think carefully about your present position. While you’re here, you’ll have my protection and the loyalty of all of John’s hands, as well as that of the men who work for me. Would you rather be out on your own?” “Of course not, but...”

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Brax shushed her. “No buts. Naturally, I’ve told Uncle John the truth, so there’ll be no problems about our sleeping arrangements.” “Oh, I thought...” Ruby glanced at the narrow bed. “I know what you thought.” Snorting a derisive chuckle, Brax shook his head. “What I don’t understand is how you could imagine I’d try to force myself on you after all we’ve been through, together.” “You’re a man. It’s normal for you to act that way.” “Is it?” Brax smiled, the gesture not reaching his eyes. “This Caleb Stone of yours has really done a work in you, hasn’t he? What happened Ruby? Did he convince you we’re all liars and cheats, just because he is?” She wasn’t willing to admit how close he probably was to being right. “Don’t be silly.” With a sigh of disgust, Brax turned to go. “Stay here. I’ll have Rosa bring you a bath and whatever else you need. When you’re ready, I’ll introduce you to Uncle John. And don’t worry. I won’t insist you perform the wifely duties you seem so worried about.” Looking for something—anything—that would prolong Brax’s presence in the small room, Ruby asked, “Is Mr. Chisum really your uncle?” Brax shook his head. “No. He’s everybody’s uncle in the way some men are called, Father. John Chisum is the kind of man you’d pick for a relative if you were lucky enough to be given a choice.”

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“Oh. Then that’s why Lily called him Uncle John, too.” “She and most of the other decent folks around these parts,” Brax said. “When Lily’s father was shot in ‘72, John helped Mrs. Casey keep the family ranch going. He didn’t have to do that. He could have bought out the widow for a paltry sum, taken over the land, and made a neat profit. Only he didn’t.” Pausing, Brax stood in the doorway and stared hard at Ruby. “If he’d had the kind of unprincipled conscience you suspect most men of harboring, he’d have taken quick advantage of Mrs. Casey, wouldn’t he?” Ruby had no ready answer. She pressed her lips together and watched Brax turn away, pull the door closed and leave her alone with the sleeping baby. Breathing deeply, she released a quiet sigh. Brax was right. As much as she hated to admit it, she’d lost her ability to trust. Walking over to where Moses dozed, Ruby looked down at him. Of course, she still trusted her Heavenly Father. He’d brought them safely through the trials so far. He’d surely see that justice was done, if not for her sake, at least for the innocent baby’s. Her heart gave a lurch as she thought about the biblical, “sins of the fathers” being visited onto the sons. That passage didn’t pertain to one as unoffending as Moses. It couldn’t. Still, Emma and Pearce had sinned. What did that make their offspring, if not the product of

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disobedience? Unmindful of her dusty clothing, she bent and picked up the baby, holding him close. She wouldn’t let him perish, no matter what. As long as there was breath in her body she’d fight for him, care for him, love him as truly as any real mother ever could. Even if there was no one else in the world firmly on the side of either of them, they had each other.

THE DAYS at John Chisum’s South Spring River ranch were sweltering. A dry wind blew in off the Llano Estacado, or Staked Plains. The Pecos, the Ruidoso, and Seven Rivers, where other tributaries joined the flow, were what made the place habitable. Long House, the main adobe dwelling, was unique. The corridors remained cool and comfortable in spite of soaring outside temperatures because the clever rancher had diverted an irrigation channel to flow right through the middle of his house! Balancing Moses on her hip and speaking softly to him, Ruby strolled along the expansive porch. From there, she could see the man-made lake where the runoff water from the indoor channel accumulated. Longhorn cattle, their ears notched with Chisum’s trademark jingle-bob, lined the banks. Worrying, she sighed. The serenity of the place lulled her too much. No matter how safe she felt there, she knew Caleb Stone would never rest till he’d reclaimed Moses. The longer she remained in one

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place, the greater her chances of discovery. It was time to move on. Thankfully, Brax was making her decision easier by tormenting her ceaselessly in front of everyone. “Bring me a drink, wife. Mend my shirt, wife. Haven’t you finished the wash, wife?” He’d kept his vow and not come to her in the night, but he was insisting she behave as his dutiful and long-suffering mate in every other way. Many times she’d plotted to catch him alone and chasten him. Never once had she been successful. The closest she’d come was when she’d cornered him after dinner a few days before. When she’d approached from behind and whispered his name, he’d jumped like a rattler had just sunk fangs into his ankle. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!” “Sorry,” Ruby had said. “You are not.” His knowing glance was a challenge. She shrugged. “You’re right. I’m not a bit sorry. You deserve everything you get for the awful way you’ve been treating me.” Brax’s eyebrows arched. “I’ve been treating you?” He snorted. “Hah! You should talk. What about pushing me in the creek?” “That wasn’t my fault.”

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“How do you figure it wasn’t?” “I just forgot myself for a minute and made a misstep. I’m not used to having a cold stream running right through the parlor.” That much was true. She neglected to add that she’d regained her equilibrium moments before giving her pretend husband a push in the direction of the water when he’d reached out to steady her. Brax pouted. “You might have killed me.” “Oh, nonsense. A grown man can’t drown in a few inches of water.” From behind them came the booming voice of John Chisum. “He can if he’s drunk as a skunk when he falls in.” Startled because she’d thought they were alone, Ruby had bolted toward Brax and wound up in his arms. Off balance, he’d staggered backwards, clasping her tightly. “Let go of me,” she remembered insisting, struggling to free herself. Uncle John bellowed with laughter. “I swear, you’re the most cantankerous female I’ve met since I came to the Territories.” He’d winked at Brax. “Kiss her, boy. It might improve her disposition.” Ruby had been braced to resist. Brax had released her, instead! It was as if he could read her mind, was purposely thwarting her every desire. The frustration level in their relationship had risen to such a peak, she wondered how much longer she’d be able to hold her tongue. Once she began to give vent to her

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true feelings, there was no telling how far she would go. Or what secrets of her heart she might reveal in anger. Which was another very good reason to leave her sanctuary at Chisum’s as soon as possible. Brax had warned her that many men who worked for Uncle John had professed loyalty but not all could be trusted. It wasn’t unusual for cowhands to change sides in times of serious trouble. Consequently, if she hoped to survive to bring Caleb Stone to justice, nothing she said or did must give any hint she’d been using a false identity. Ruby went to the kitchen, handed Moses to Rosa, and picked up the basket of food for Brax’s lunch, just as she’d done every day for the past six weeks. “Señor Brax, he said to hurry, today,” Rosa told her. “The men were very hungry, yesterday.” “I was busy sewing larger shirts for Moses. I lost track of time,” Ruby explained. “Yes, but Señor Brax said...” “I know what Señor Brax said. Señor Brax spent the entire evening repeating it until I thought I’d go mad.” “He is your husband. You should want to please him.” “Rosa, if you only knew,” Ruby mumbled. Taking up the heavy basket she hurried out the door and down a path toward an outlying corral. Bad

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temper, not wifely obligations, gave vigor to her steps. The sun beat down, quickly making her sorry she’d come away without a hat or bonnet. Brax had bullied her into wearing the confining garb of genteel women, and she yearned for the cooler freedom of her shorter, split skirt and a shirt under which she needed only a camisole, not a stiff corset. Rounding the bend, Ruby didn’t notice a large rock on the path. She tripped, caught her foot on her hem, and nearly fell before righting herself. The basket tumbled to the ground, spilling half its contents. She dusted herself off and surveyed the damage. The only real casualty was a small watermelon. Since Señor Brax wanted his meal pronto, Ruby salvaged what she could of the split melon and crammed it back into the basket. If her so-called husband protested too much, she’d simply leave the bulk of the food for him and his crew and go fetch another melon while they ate. Everyone quit work with grateful muttering as she approached. Most of the men were shirtless, a sight that once would have made Ruby turn her head and blush. Lately, though, it seemed as if hardly any new sight affected her that way. Except seeing Brax’s bare muscles, she added with chagrin. That sight never ceased to make her stomach flutter and her mouth go dry. Thank heaven she’d been able to hide her embarrassing reactions. “Thank you, wife,” he said. Relieving her of the basket he removed his hat and tossed it down. Everyone else had gathered in the shade of a scraggly mesquite bush that stood off to one side. He joined

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them. Ruby shaded her eyes with her hand and squinted down at him. “I tripped on the way,” she explained. He was opening the basket. “I didn’t expect you to purposely ruin the food because you were angry, Ruby. That’s beneath you.” “Purposely?” She was livid. “You think I did that on purpose? Why you...!” Brax chuckled as he lifted a small chuck of the smashed melon and popped its sweet wetness into his mouth. “Very well. In the future, please remember that I prefer my watermelon sliced, not beaten to death.” The others laughed along with him. “I’m so sorry, dear husband,” Ruby said. Her honeyed words belied the fire in her eyes. “If I had known that, I certainly would have bowed to your wishes.” She reached for a larger piece of melon. “Here, let me help you, dearest one.” In a flash, she’d leaned closer and crushed the ripe fruit against his forehead. With a demure smile she stepped back. “There. How’s that?” The silence was absolute except for the snorting and stamping of the nearby cattle. Everyone stared at Brax. Watermelon seeds were stuck to his forehead. Pink juice tricked down his cheeks and neck. The first man to chance a chuckle was the same withered old cuss who’d held Ruby’s horse when she’s first arrived at the ranch. In moments, everyone was roaring with laughter. Everyone, that is, except Brax.

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Ruby saw the glint of promise in his eyes before he made a move. Slowly, purposefully, he used his crumpled shirt to wipe the mess off his face. Worried about the strange look he was giving her, she took one step backward, then another. Every muscle in Brax’s body had tensed. She knew she should apologize for shaming him in front of his friends but her stubborn pride wouldn’t let her. For weeks, he’d been pushing her to the edge of her tolerance. Well, she’d finally toppled over. And she wasn’t sorry. Retaliation had felt wonderful. Fighting to keep from joining in the laughter, Ruby continued to back away from him. Usually she waited and returned the basket to Rosa. This time, she figured a hasty retreat was in order. In a flash of insight, she realized she’d already tarried too long. Brax came up off the ground with a roar. Ruby whirled, hiked her skirts and began to run. Before she’d gone three strides, he had her. Wiggling and squealing, she lost control of her shaky emotions and began to laugh hysterically. Brax looped one arm around her waist and toted her away like a sack of flour while she kicked and thrashed. “Hey, Brax,” one of the men called. “You don’t want her, I’ll take her off your hands.” “Not me,” another shouted. “She’s too wild. I like my women better trained.” “You could throw a saddle on her and break her,” a third offered.

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Silent, Brax just kept walking. Ruby shrieked, wiggled, swung her fists ineffectually. When he reached a large rock, he paused and set her on her feet before him, then captured both her wrists in one hand. Sitting down, he dragged her across his lap on her stomach, pinning her legs so she couldn’t squirm free. “Oh, no! Brax, stop this. It’s not dignified.” “Assaulting me with a melon is, I suppose? You, my dear wife, need a lesson in proper comportment.” “I’m sorry,” Ruby insisted. “You just made me so mad I lost control for a moment.” She felt his grip on her wrists tighten, saw his other hand raise. “Brax!” He brought the flat of his hand down on her upturned bottom three times in quick succession. Between the padding of her petticoats and the fact that the spanking was no more than a sham, Ruby wasn’t physically injured. Her pride, however, took a terrible beating. As soon as Brax finished and stood to place her on her feet, tears of shame trickled down her dusty cheeks. Mortified, she turned her back on the other men and glared up at him. “I hate you, Braxton Rutledge.” “Maybe now I’ll at least get some respect.”

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“Don’t count on it.” So angry she could think of no more to say, Ruby wheeled and stomped off down the trail. The men’s laughter resounded behind her. Never had she been so humiliated. How dare he!

THE PASSAGE of the afternoon did nothing to calm Ruby. The more she thought about Brax and what had happened—not only that day but ever since they’d met—the more certain she became that she must leave. Immediately. She’d been over the details recorded in Emma’s journal many times. Caleb Stone had paid a man named Roberts to kill the editor of the Lincoln Independent for him. Behind the murder was a conspiracy over the buying and selling of right-of-way land for the railroad. Ruby requested a buggy, packed her bags, and hurriedly headed for Lincoln, with Moses, before Brax returned to the house. She planned to hire McSween and tell him everything. Then, she’d proceed however the lawyer advised. Snapping the whip above the horse’s back, she urged him into a fast trot. It pained her to think of leaving all her new friends behind but she knew her decision had been the wisest course. The sooner she

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distanced herself, and her heart, from Brax Rutledge’s influence, the sooner she could begin to forget him. Ruby pictured his handsome face and laughing eyes, the rugged strength of his body, and she knew she’d been lying to herself. Forgetting him would be impossible.

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Chapter 22 ACCORDING to local gossip, there’d been no new fighting in Lincoln, lately. Driving down the main street, Ruby was relieved to see that the rumors were accurate. If a person didn’t already know about all the killing that had gone on in the recent past, they’d never dream the sleepy town was anything but peaceful. Of course, McSween’s home still looked like a fortress. That was to be expected. Such a massive adobe barricade was neither quickly constructed nor easily removed. In a land where wood was at a premium, even most of the corrals at Chisum’s were bordered by adobe walls instead of rail fences. When Ruby had asked about it, Uncle John had explained that there were horizontal strips of wood buried inside the adobe to keep the Mescaleros from drawing a rope back and forth through it like a saw and “liberating” his livestock. Waving a tentative greeting, Ruby stopped the buggy in front of McSween’s and gathered up the baby. One rifleman remained on guard. Apparently he remembered her because he simply nodded and waved her through to the house. Ruby found Mary Ealy in the yard, tending the flowers. When the two women recognized each other,

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both shed tears of joy and shared a hug that included Moses. “Oh, my goodness,” Mary said, grinning and fanning her flushed face with her apron. “You told me your son was a baby about the age of my Grace but he’s so big! He’s nearly a little man.” “Moses has grown,” Ruby replied, smiling at the baby who was making a silly face at Mary. “He’s been fussy, of late. I think he’s getting some teeth.” “Be eating steak soon enough,” Mary said. Taking Ruby’s arm, she escorted her up the steps and into the house. “There’s plenty of food like that around here, although there are moments when I’d give almost anything for a fresh carrot or an orange. Most of the vegetables Mr. Ealy tried to grow froze. Those that didn’t got all dried up as soon as those horrid, dry winds started.” “I know what you mean about the wind. This land takes a bit of getting used to, but I like it, somehow.” “Bless you,” Mary said. “I can’t find a kind thing to say about the Territories. The Lord sent Mr. Ealy here to minister, so I shall have to make the best of it.” “How did you come to live in this house?” Ruby asked. “Or are you visiting?” She took a seat on the end of the sofa and glanced at the heavy, dark furniture. “We’re living in this side of the house while we try to raise money for a church and school. It was Mr. McSween who wrote the Presbytery for a missionary in the first place, so he’s very kindly putting us

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up. This residence used to belong to his law partner.” “And the trouble I heard about?” Ruby bounced Moses on her lap, eager for confirmation that the danger was over. “Oh, I don’t know.” Clasping her hands, Mary paced across the floor shaking her head. Stopping beside a small table she opened a folded Spanish fan and began to cool herself in earnest. “Mr. Ealy says that the Lord will keep us safe. But I notice he still hates to go out at night, even when someone in need sends for him. He’s treated a lot of horrible gunshot wounds since we arrived.” “Oh, that’s right,” Ruby said, thinking back. “I’d forgotten he was also a doctor.” “I wish he weren’t. It’s dangerous to associate with so many ruffians. Even if they are injured.” “I suppose so.” Thoughts of danger brought Ruby’s mind back to a subject she’d almost forgotten. She smiled at Moses, then at Mary. “Do you think the reverend would consent to christen my son?” “It hasn’t been done? Oh, dear.” Mary perched beside Ruby and the baby. “I’m afraid not,” Ruby said. “And it should be, don’t you think?” “Oh, my, yes.” Mary fanned faster. “I can speak to Mr. Ealy for you, if you’d like.” When Moses babbled and reached a chubby hand toward the fan, she tucked it behind her and took his tiny fingers in hers. “Oh, would you? I’d be most grateful.”

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“Certainly. In the meantime, you and your son must stay here with us. My Glory loves babies. She’s a great help with my little one.” Appreciative, Ruby agreed. “I’d planned to see Mr. McSween on business, anyway, so I’d be doubly delighted. If you’ll watch Moses for me, I’ll go fetch my things out of the buggy.” She got to her feet. So did the older woman.. “Is your husband doing well on his ranch?” Mary asked, holding out her arms and accepting Moses. Ruby smiled as the baby immediately closed his chubby fist around the brooch at Mary’s throat. “Yes, he’s quite busy.” Though she intended her response to sound normal, something about it caused Mary to raise an eyebrow. “Oh?” Ruby didn’t want the older woman’s curiosity to lead to too many pointed questions so she added, “I’ve left him. As soon as my business with Lawyer McSween is concluded, I’ll be going away for good.” Mary sat back down with a plop, Moses coming to rest on her lap. “Oh! Oh, dear. You want a divorce? Oh, my dear. How terrible. That is so, so wrong. Marriage is for life.” “Like a prison sentence?” Ruby asked, remembering Emma’s plight. “I’m afraid I can’t agree with you. When a man is evil, no woman should be forced to remain married to him.” “Surely, Mr. Rutledge has some good qualities.”

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Although she hadn’t purposely misled her friend about Brax’s character, Ruby thought it best to say no more. “I’d rather not discuss it, if you don’t mind. Am I still welcome to stay?” “How can I turn you away in your hour of need? Of course you may stay. Why, maybe the Lord sent you here so Mr. Ealy and I can open your eyes to what is right.” She brightened. “Yes, I’m sure that’s it.” “Maybe so,” Ruby agreed. “If I can have Moses properly christened and also see to my other business, I’m certain God will be well pleased. As, will I.” “Then we’ll arrange it at once.” Lowering Moses to the floor where he immediately tried to lift the pictures of roses off the worn rug, she hurried to the door. “Wait for me. I’ll go fetch Taylor and tell him you’re here. He’s at a meeting over at the Tunstall store. He’ll be so pleased to see you again.” Ruby nodded. Picking up the baby to keep him out of mischief, she went to her buggy, got the traveling bag containing the precious journal, and brought it into the house. Whether Taylor Ealy would be genuinely happy she’d come or not, she knew she’d done the right thing. To not act on what she’d found out about Stone was a sin of omission. The judge must be stopped before he scarred and ruined any more lives. If she had to stand alone against the devil, then so be it.

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MARY PROVIDED a dainty, white, christening gown for Moses. Taylor Ealy’s usual gruffness seemed heightened when he arrived, making Ruby suspect that Mary had had to use all her wits to convince him to agree to perform the ceremony. Garbed in black, Ealy stood before a make-shift altar and baptismal font in the McSween parlor while Mary fluttered nervously in the background. Ruby had seen little of the house’s owners other than the brief, distracted greeting Mrs. McSween had bestowed while passing through to her own side of the divided dwelling. Lawyer McSween was apparently not in Lincoln at present, which meant Ruby’s plans to trap Caleb might have to be altered or postponed. Now, though, having Moses christened was the important thing. Cradling him, she smiled at Reverend Ealy and waited. His visage stern, Ealy cleared his throat and said, “I want you to know that what I do, I do only because the scripture tells me it is right. My soul is at peace.” Mary Ealy began to weep softly. Ruby shivered in spite of the oppressive, mid-July heat. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled in alarm, her pulse accelerating. Was Mary’s distress spilling over onto her and making her nervous? Was that the problem? Or was it the odd way the reverend was behaving? When Ruby looked directly into his eyes she was suddenly filled with unspeakable dread. He lifted

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one arm and motioned toward an open door. The doorway darkened. An aura of evil seemed to fill the small parlor. Four armed cowhands entered, their booted footfalls heavy, and took up strategic positions. One of them wore a star pinned to his vest. Following them came a tall, commanding figure. “That’s her,” he said, pointing an accusing finger. “And the baby is my stolen son.” Caleb Stone! Ruby clutched Moses to her breast and retreated. Her gaze darted around the room. Armed men blocked the exits. There was nowhere to run. No escape. “No! He’s lying!” Her voice rose to a screech as Stone advanced. “He killed my sister. You can’t let him do this. You mustn’t!” “I’m certain the proof of her guilt will be among her belongings,” Caleb said smoothly. “Bring me her things.” With strong men restraining her on both sides, Ruby had no choice but to permit Stone to search her bag. His hand emerged holding Emma’s journal and the damning private papers that had originally come from his strongbox. Waving them triumphantly over his head, he flashed a satisfied grin. “Here is the proof, Sheriff, for all to see. Mrs. Ealy, will you kindly take charge of my son?” Ruby held Moses tightly to her. This couldn’t be happening! It was as if she’d fallen into Hell and

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was tumbling unhindered through a black abyss to her death. Hoping to find compassion, she looked into Mary’s eyes and was met with hurt and scorn, instead. Whatever groundwork Caleb had laid with the Ealys regarding her character, he’d done his usual masterful job. Moses began to wail. Prying him from Ruby’s arms as she’d been instructed, Mary turned away and quickly bore the child out of the room. Ruby struggled against her captors’ firm grips. “Ask him who arranged for the death of the editor of the Independent,” she urged, casting about the room for one kindly soul. “Ask him.” “As I told you,” Caleb said, “the poor woman is quite mad. She has been since her sister’s death.” He tucked the journal under his left arm. “She has no proof.” Noticing for the first time that her nemesis no longer had a left hand, Ruby was momentarily struck dumb. She quickly recovered. “The proof is in the journal. Look at it. Just look!” Caleb gave a snort of contempt. “If such lies do exist, they were no doubt put there by this poor, deluded creature. She’s had her sister’s diary for months—more than long enough to add lies to try and ruin me.” He shot a well-calculated look of pity toward Ruby. “Sheriff Peppin, do your duty.” “With pleasure, Judge.” The lanky lawman motioned with the barrel of his shotgun as he nodded to the men who were restraining Ruby. “Lock her up.” “No! No! Mary, help me. Please,” she shouted, hoping the other woman hadn’t gone too far away to

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hear, to heed her pleas. “Get word to Brax!” What else could she say? Ruby asked herself. Quick. Think. What would be a strong enough utterance to make a subservient woman like Mary Ealy defy her husband? She tried, “Tell Brax I want to repent and be reconciled with him before I’m taken away. Tell him! Please!” Ruby continued to shout and struggle as the men dragged her from the house and out into the street. “Tell Brax Rutledge about this,” she screamed as loudly as she could. “There’ll be a reward, I swear it. He’s at Chisum’s. Somebody, go get Brax! For the love of God, help me!”

BRAX FOUND most of the Regulators who were still on Tunstall and Chisum’s side of the conflict gathered at Blazer’s Mill. He’d not been able to fully understand the scribblings from Mary Ealy. All Brax knew for sure was that Ruby had been arrested. That was enough for him. The way the law had been operating in Lincoln County, lately, he didn’t dare leave her in the sheriff’s custody. Men with rifles guarded the sloping approach to the mill on the Rio Tularosa. Brax recognized them. One was Bob Olinger. The other, William Bonney. Fortunately, they knew him to be as neutral as any of Chisum’s friends could be, in view of the abortive siege on the ranch by the Long posse last Independence

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Day. He waved, rode closer, and kept his hands visible as he greeted them. “Boys.” Neither man lowered his rifle. Brax wasn’t surprised. The daily developments between the separate factions in Lincoln County often left a man wondering who his friends were. Or if he had any. “What brings you out here, Brax? Chisum need us again?” “No. I do.” Moving slowly, he dismounted, removed his gunbelt and looped it over the horn of his saddle. “Widenmann here?” “Inside.” Hands in the air, Brax entered the mill. He nodded to the men lounging on the stacks of grain sacks, then lowered his arms to assume a more natural pose. “Morning.” Widenmann smiled. “I see your sore leg’s all healed up. What brings you to us? It ain’t real safe these days to be ridin’ out alone, you know.” Brax snorted. “I know. If it wasn’t for a damn woman, I’d be home brandin’ calves and jinglebobbin’ their ears like any other regular hand.” The big German laughed. “You want a woman, my friend, you’d best be headin’ to Santa Fe. All the fancy girls left Lincoln a couple of months ago, about the time Axtell fired Sheriff Copeland and replaced him with Peppin.”

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“Yeah. That’s partly why I’m here. A friend of mine’s in trouble. I don’t trust the sheriff.” The entire complement of men laughed, some more raucously than others, but enough in agreement to assure Brax he’d come to the right place. “So?” Widenmann asked. “You don’t expect us to break the law, do you?” Behind him, Bonney guffawed. “Break the law? Hell, we were the law last spring. Maybe we will be again.” Brax nodded solemnly. “Maybe so. Trouble is, I can’t wait to find out.” A hush filled the room. Brax decided to come directly to the point. “I want us to break a woman out of jail. Today. Before Peppin or that idiot Col. Dudley decide to have her moved to Fort Stanton. If they do that, we’ll never get her out.” “I agree with you there.” Shaking his head, Widenmann, leaned back in a languid pose. “But a jailbreak? What if Dolan’s men interfere?” “Chisum got a wire that says Dolan’s gone to Mesilla. For good. The J.J. Dolan and Company store’s been sold to a fella name of Catron. That should help some.” Bonney stood, his hand on the butt of his sidearm. “I say we go. What more can they charge us with than they already done?” Widenmann chuckled. “Besides seven or eight murders and a dozen robberies, you mean? Beats the

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hell out of me.” He got to his feet. “Well, boys? What do you say? Do we ride?” Every man immediately volunteered. Brax knew their mission was dangerous. Yet he couldn’t leave Ruby in the hands of men like Peppin and Dudley. Not if he hoped to see her alive, again. It didn’t matter that she’d run away from him. She had a strong spirit, like a wild mustang. She’d never truly be tamed. Women like her were a real nuisance. They were also rare treasures. Whether or not he ever put his brand on her was of no immediate concern. He loved and respected Ruby McKay too much to abandon her to her fate without first putting up a damned good fight. They’d settle their personal differences later. If there was a later.

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Chapter 23 THE Lincoln jail was adobe. Its only windows were narrow slits set just below the roofline. Little air circulated unless someone opened the outer door. Ruby’s arrest had been so traumatic, so swift, she couldn’t recall everything the sheriff had told her. As near as she could remember, the heavy steel door would be opened only twice a day, when they brought her food. Otherwise, she’d be left to swelter alone in the dim light. She heard footfalls outside and stiffened, listening intently. A key turned in the lock. A scruffylooking armed man with narrow-set eyes and mutton-chop sideburns entered, carrying a small plate of biscuits and a pail of boiled beans. As soon as he’d opened the door and stepped inside, he began to grouse loudly. “Damn, it’s hot in here. Don’t know why I had to bring yer dinner. Wasn’t even my turn.” Ruby glowered at him. He didn’t look too quick-witted. If she could catch him off guard, maybe she could overpower him and escape. The ridiculousness of her idea was not enough to keep her from considering trying it out, in spite of the guard’s greater bulk. Her concerns for Moses’s future interfered, cautioned against such folly, or she would have launched

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herself bodily at the man the second he unlocked her cell door. Instead, she decided to try subterfuge. “Oh. Oh, dear,” she whined, fanning herself as best she could with the flat of her hand. “I feel so faint in this horrid heat.” “Ain’t my fault,” the guard argued. “I don’t like it here no better than you do, but I gotta stay whilst you eat so’s I can take the tin back to Mrs. Ealy, like the sheriff said.” He started to nudge the outer door with his foot. “Oh, please, sir,” Ruby begged, now truly into her role of helpless female, “don’t shut the door. I shan’t be able to bear it if you do!” He glanced down at her, then eyed the heavy steel door. “All right. If you promise to eat up, I’ll leave it open a might. But I ain’t stayin’ in here to cook. I’ll be on the porch, in the shade. You sing out when you’re done.” “But...” That wasn’t at all what Ruby’d had in mind. “Couldn’t I sit out there with you? I mean, I’m only a slip of a girl. Surely, you don’t think I could escape from a big ole’ man like you?” He paused, appearing to consider her request. “Please? It’s so hot in here I don’t think I could eat a bite. Honestly. Why, it’d probably make me sick to try.” “Well...”

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Throwing all her pride away, she fell to her knees, her hands clasped above her breasts. “Oh, please. Tie me to a chair, if you wish, only let me breathe the fresh air.” Real tears sprang to her eyes. During the time she’d been forced to give in to Brax’s notions of safe refuge at South Spring, she’d likened her experiences to those of jail. Now, she realized there was no comparison. Brax hadn’t made her a true prisoner the way this cell did. Here, the walls seemed to close in, taking her very breath away. Oppressive beyond words, the tiny barred room made her want to scream and claw at the thick, hard walls with her bare hands, even though she knew in her rational mind that the idea of escape by sheer force was ludicrous. Ruby held her breath, waiting. The guard took a few steps toward her. Lifting a heavy key off the wall beside the cell door, he inserted it into the lock. A loud clank echoed in the stillness. “You mind your manners, missy, or I’ll put you right back in here, you hear?” Drawing his revolver, the man swung the cell door open. He gestured toward the food with the barrel of his gun. “Pick it up.” Ruby complied. Her gaze darted toward the door. “Can we go outside like you said? Please?” “Walk slow.” Trembling, she did as she was told. Reaching the porch, she sank to a seated position and leaned against one of the posts that held up the front overhang. The heat was more bearable now that she could

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taste fresh air. The guard picked up a short coil of rope as he followed her out. “Good,” he said. “I’ll tie you right where you sit. Lift your arms.” No thought of immediate defense entered Ruby’s weary mind. Later, when the man untied her to take her back to her cell, she’d attempt an escape. All she wanted right now was to sit and enjoy the temporary respite. Staring along the street, she noticed marksmen atop the parapet on the torreon, an old watch tower. Lily Casey had told her the tower went all the way back to 1855 when the first Mexican settlers had needed protection from Apaches. Nearer the center of town, a large complement of soldiers was dragging a cannon into place. It was hard to be certain from Ruby’s distant vantage point, but it looked as if there was a gattling gun mounted in one of the army wagons, too. Curious, she glanced at her guard as he looped the rope around her waist and tied it behind the post. “What’s going on? Why is the army here?” “To keep the peace, so’s I’m told. Now, eat.” “Yes, of course. I...” She opened the bean pot and took the spoon in her hand to placate him. “Haven’t things been pretty quiet? It seemed so when I rode in.” He seated himself on the porch behind her, taking the only chair, and laid his heavy pistol across his

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lap. “Sheriff says the army ain’t allowed to inter...inter...” “Intervene?” “That’s it. Intervene. ‘Cause of some new act of Congress. Sheriff Peppin sent a messenger to ask for the loan of the cannon. Dudley brung it hisself, ‘cause some fools shot up the damn courier. Crawford got killed in that fracas, too.” “Crawford?” Ruby’s voice was hardly more than a whisper. It seemed that men were dying daily. Half their names were strange to her even though she’d paid precise attention every time Brax and John Chisum had discussed the ongoing feud in her presence. Too much had happened too fast for her to even begin to keep track of who was on whose side in the senseless battles. Shocked, Ruby gasped. Col. Dudley’s cannon was being wheeled around to point directly at the McSween house. As far as she knew, Moses was still inside! Struggling to appear unaffected, she forced herself to try a spoonful of beans. It was a mistake. They sat in her mouth like a handful of dry pebbles. Managing to choke them down, she spoke as casually as her anxious state would allow. “Tell me, is my baby still at McSween’s?” The guard frowned. “Don’t know as I should say.” Ruby managed to continue playing the role of a helpless woman. “Why ever not? Surely, I’m no

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threat.” “No, ma’am. Not likely.” “Well, then? I was just curious.” “Guess it won’t hurt nothin’ to tell you. He’s with his pa. Reverend Ealy took in Judge Stone for the time bein’.” He chuckled derisively. “They don’t seem too fond of each other, though.” Ruby turned back to stare unseeing at the street. Remembering Taylor Ealy’s high moral standards, she wasn’t surprised to hear he didn’t like Stone. Perhaps there was a chance Mary could be prevailed upon for help, after all. As quickly as the hope arose, it was dashed by logic. Mary Ealy was so well-versed in proper wifely comportment and strict ideas of right and wrong, there was no possible chance she’d judge the present situation candidly. To Mary, black was black and right was right. Stone was Moses’s legal father. Mary would never act against him, even in the best interests of the child. Her old habits wouldn’t let her. Neither would her rigidly judgmental husband. Tears filled Ruby’s eyes. “Eat up,” the guard ordered, eyeing her suspiciously. “You’re about out of time.” Ruby knew she should eat to keep up her strength. But how could she when there was an enormous cannon pointed at Moses and he lay within reach of Caleb Stone’s wickedness? “I’m trying.” Ruby averted her gaze in preparation for the lie she was about to tell. “If only I had a drink of cool water to

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wash the food down, swallowing would be so much easier.” His laugh mocked her. “And you ‘spect me to hop up and fetch you one? The sheriff’d skin me.” Suddenly, Ruby heard the double click of a revolver hammer being pulled back to full cock. Surely, the deputy wasn’t going to shoot her! Not for simply requesting a drink of water! Twisting, she was relieved to see that his gun still lay in his lap. His skin was pale. His mouth gaped. There was fear in his wide gaze. Ruby whipped her head to the opposite side, then back again. She was secured to the post too tightly to turn all the way around and see for herself what had frightened the insolent guard. A familiar chuckle shocked her, sent shivers of anticipation singing up her spine. “Brax?” Her heart threatened to pound itself to pieces. “Is that you?” “It is,” he said quietly. “Now shut up and stop hollering or you’ll have the whole damn town down here.” “Sorry.” Nimble fingers began to work at the knots that held her. As soon as she was loose, Ruby hitched up her skirt and eased to her feet, pivoting slowly to avoid attracting attention. Brax had the barrel of his pistol pressed to the deputy’s temple. Another man held the reins of four saddle horses. A third, the youngest, stood grinning while he coiled the rope that had bound Ruby.

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“This is Charlie Bowdre and Bill Bonney,” Brax said. “Widenmann and the others are waiting just outside town, in case we need extra help. I had no idea you’d be sittin’ on the porch, waiting for me.” Ruby recognized those names. “Regulators?” she asked, amazed. “But, I thought...” Brax’s scowl of warning was enough to shut her up. In order to affect her rescue, he’d apparently joined forces with a group whose tactics he strongly disapproved. She tried to thank him with her eyes and a small smile. He cocked his head toward the horses. “Edge on back behind the jail where nobody can see you, then mount up. I’ll see to our friend, here.” “Don’t hurt him. He’s not too bright.” “I only aim to lock him up.” Brax gestured with the pistol barrel. The deputy stood, easing his way through the jail door, his hands in the air, his own revolver discarded beside his chair. Ruby paused long enough to claim the man’s gun. She was astride a horse, her skirts hiked up above her shoe tops, by the time Brax joined them. He swung into the saddle. “Ready?” “Moses is still at McSween’s. We have to go get him,” Ruby said, reining her fractious mare to keep it from bolting in the excitement. Bonney cursed. “Like hell we do.” He followed the remark with a longer string of expletives.

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Expecting Brax to agree with her, Ruby looked to him for support. To her chagrin, he was shaking his head. “But, we have to,” she insisted. “We can’t just leave him in there with Caleb.” “According to what the boys have heard around town, both Mrs. McSween and Mrs. Ealy are also in the house. No harm will come to the boy while they’re so close by.” He reached for the mare’s reins and took control. “No! Let go of me. I’m going after Moses!” Brax refused to answer. Instead, he planted his spurs in the sides of his mount while Bowdre leaned over to slap the rump of Ruby’s bay mare. Her horse jumped, kicked out once, then started to gallop alongside the others. In the melee, Ruby dropped the precious pistol. She grasped the saddlehorn with both hands to keep her seat, not daring to cry out for fear of discovery and recapture. Tears stung her eyes. With every length the horse carried her away from Moses, the crack in her heart widened further. If she left him in Lincoln with Stone, all her struggles and sacrifices were for naught. Somehow, she had to get Brax to change his mind and turn back. She just had to.

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THE DISTANT sound of gunfire echoed up the canyon like thunder over the Staked Plains. It had become an almost hourly phenomenon, waxing and waning as if part of the cycles of Nature; so much so that when quiet reigned, Ruby noticed the silence more. Widenmann, Bowdre and Bonney had led the rest of the Regulators away, leaving her alone with Brax in a secluded cow camp at one end of a narrow ravine. Adobe pens showed recent use, though they were now empty. A wooden lean-to stood with it’s back to the west wind. That was where Brax had made her a pallet. He slept apart, under the stars. The moonlight falling across the camp gave it a softness that daylight erased. Ruby liked the night best, even if its quietude did give her too much time to brood about Moses. It didn’t matter that she knew Brax had been right when he’d assured her of the baby’s temporary safety with Mary Ealy. She still yearned to go back for him. Ruby knew there had to be a way to rescue her poor little nephew before Stone spirited him away. But how? And why did Brax refuse to even discuss the situation? She’d witnessed the affection the big rancher felt for the baby. That was why she couldn’t understand his reluctance to act, to help her do what was right.

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Drawing her shawl more tightly around her shoulders, she stared across the empty ground between her blankets and Brax’s still form. Perhaps he was sleeping. Or maybe he lay awake like herself, captive of his restless musings. They should talk; discuss what was to come next, Ruby decided. There was no telling when they’d have to flee again and she didn’t like the idea of riding farther away from Moses. Yet, what other options did they have? Stay and be killed? What would happen to the poor baby, then? She had to talk to Brax, air her fears, even if it meant disturbing his rest. Getting slowly to her feet, Ruby tiptoed closer. His eyes were closed, his features relaxed. He looked years younger, minus the cares of the day. Ruby dropped to her knees beside him and laid a hand gently on his bare arm, feeling his muscles tense beneath her fingers. “Brax?” He opened his eyes, pulled the blanket higher on his chest to hide his nakedness. “I’m awake. What’s wrong?” Lord, he sounded gruff. “I’m sorry to bother you.” He stared up at her. Didn’t she know how hard it was for him to leave her alone? Had she any idea what fantasies spun through his mind every time he looked at her, every time she smiled, or wept, or simply spoke his name? Propping himself up on one elbow, he took a deep, steadying breath and waited for her to

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go on. “Don’t be angry with me,” Ruby said softly, a tremulousness in her voice. Tears were threatening. She was helpless to banish them. “Angry?” He snorted with derision. “Woman, don’t you know what’s wrong?” “I...I assume you’re upset because I ran away from Chisum’s and made such a mess of things. I’m really sorry. I believed Moses would be safe at McSween’s and I wanted desperately to see the lawyer. To give him the evidence of Caleb’s crimes.” “This has nothing to do with the baby. Or your enemies. Moses may be like a son to me but he’s not the reason I’m not able to hold my temper around you, anymore.” “He isn’t?” Perhaps Brax had grown to truly hate her. The notion pierced Ruby’s heart like the keen blade of a dagger. Rivulets of tears began to course down her cheeks. Her long, thick hair hung loose, draped over her shoulders in a satiny mantle. Her tender lips quivered, begging silently for the solace only he could provide. Reaching out, Brax pulled her into his arms. She came willingly, with only a tiny gasp. Their momentum carried them onto his bed in a tight and timeless embrace. When his mouth sought and covered hers, she surrendered her wounded soul to his keeping.

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He moaned, a guttural sound that ignited her core the way dry tinder struck by lightning set a forest aflame. It was as it had been for them in Pueblo, only a hundred-fold greater. Ruby wanted nothing more than to be joined to him the way he had once tried to describe. It would not be merely a man bedding a woman. She understood fully, now. They’d be two souls becoming one—for eternity—no matter what worldly afflictions befell them. “Oh, Brax,” she whispered against the new stubble of beard on his cheek. Sliding lower, she kissed his bare shoulder then dared place her exploring fingertips on the hair of his chest before dropping her lips onto the same warm flesh to kiss him there. “Ruby...darling...stop. I can’t take this.” “You must.” She raised her misty eyes to look daringly into his. “Because it is what I want to give you.” “You don’t know what you’re saying.” “Oh, yes, I do,” she countered. “Before, I was a silly girl playing a game I didn’t understand. Not anymore. The sheriff may find us at any moment, Brax Rutledge. We may be shot. Killed. I don’t intend to die unfulfilled.” The seriousness of her tone spoke directly to his heart. “I love you, Ruby McKay,” he said. “Will you be my wife?”

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She blushed demurely, yet her eyes sparkled with excitement and desire. “Yes. I want to belong to you the way every wife belongs to her husband.” His hands lifted her to lie atop him, then slipped under the shawl to caress her back through the thin fabric of her bodice. “It is I who will belong to you, sweet wife. As God is my witness, I take you in holy matrimony. No other will ever replace you.” “As long as we both shall live. And beyond,” she added, bringing her lips to his once more. Ruby wasn’t sure that every new bride felt as she did, but of one thing she was certain. No church ceremony or sanctimonious preacher with a black coat and a somber face could make her any more married than she was at that moment. Brax shifted his weight to bring her under his blanket with him. Wrapping one leg around her, he pushed up her skirt. The smooth, bare flesh of her thigh beneath his hand startled him. He drew a shaky breath. “I laundered my drawers in the creek and they weren’t dry,” she explained, smiling. “I’m sorry if I shocked you.” “Nothing you do should surprise me,” Brax told her tenderly. “You’re one of a kind.” “So are you, husband.” With trembling fingers, Ruby explored the broad planes of his back, then let her hand drift lower till it rested on his hip.

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His husky moan inspired her to be more daring. As if she’d done it hundreds of times before, she slipped her small hand between their bodies and grasped him, boldly. He was hard, yet soft, like velvet, veins throbbing beneath her touch. Surely, such a great thing would not fit where she knew it must! Yet God had made both Adam and Eve, so there had to be a way. Trailing her questing hand lower, Ruby caressed him gently, aware of how mightily he was trembling. It was a marvelous feeling to know she affected him so strongly, simply by her touch. Why.... Suddenly, she felt his fingers begin to explore the secret places she’d shared with no one before. A tingle started between her legs and spread to infuse the inner part of her that had hurt so much when he’d left her to go to Pearl. So that was what a husband’s touch felt like. Oh! Oh, my! Tiny mewing sounds began in her throat and grew till she could no longer subdue them. Fire was too tame a word to describe the heat Brax had unleashed. Releasing her hold on him she arched into his palm, her fingers digging into his shoulders. “Ruby. Oh, Ruby, my sweet love.” Rolling her over, he held himself above her. In the moonlight she looked like an angel...a thoroughly brazen one. Her lips were parted. Her nostrils flared. Her breathing was ragged. This was a woman he could love for a lifetime and never tame. Nor did he want to. It was enough to know she would tame him. Easing closer, he fought for self-control while his tortured body screamed for release.

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Sensing his desperation, Ruby opened herself to him, her hands sliding down his back. When she felt him poised at the brink, hesitating, she arched into him and pulled him closer, her unpracticed actions totally natural. Brax cried out. So did Ruby. Panting, he managed to pause and look down at her with reverence and concern. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I love you.” She cradled his face in her hands and urged his head down so she could kiss his lips to silence him. Beyond words, she wanted only to be sure he would continue, fulfill his promise to make her his wife in every sense. As his mouth joined with hers, she arched her back and felt him join with her more fully. The explosive sensation nearly overwhelmed her already razor-keen senses. Brax was lost in the beauty of the moment. This perfect woman was what he’d waited for, yearned for, prayed for. She was not shy or frightened of his sex the way poor Annie had been. For the first time in his life he felt free to finally be the man he really was. In giving herself completely, with no reservations, Ruby had freed him from the ghosts of the past which had ruled over him for so many lonely years. He began to rock above her. She was opening to him like a flower to the summer sun. Soon, he thought. Soon, she will be mine. Eternally. Ruby couldn’t believe the myriad of sensations coursing through her body. She didn’t want to cry out,

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yet she lacked the power to stop herself. As Brax’s intensity grew, her own responses built till she was calling his name, over and over. She sensed his urgency, his struggle to hold back, and she lifted herself to receive the gift of life and of love he offered. Every muscle in his body tensed. Ruby held her breath. Shocked, she sensed her own release, then his. The glow which suffused her sent her spiraling downward into the deepest relaxation, the most perfect peace, she’d ever felt. Breathing hard, silently weeping for joy, she clung to him as if she never intended to let go. They were finally one. Ruby McKay had been transformed into Ruby Rutledge in a blaze of glory greater than the sun, itself. Gently, questioningly, Brax kissed her cheek. “Are you all right?” She opened her eyes to stare at him in awe, her voice a hoarse whisper. “Oh, my! Will it always be like that?” “I’ll try to see that it is,” Brax told her, relieved. “I’ve been saving up for a long while. I hope I can do as well the next time.” Snuggling closer, Ruby blushed and giggled. “And when will that be, husband? Is it too soon, now?” With a groan of mock displeasure, Brax flopped over on his back. “Woman, you’ll be the death of me.”

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Ruby tensed. She knew he’d only been teasing but the truth was, his innocent words might prove prophetic in spite of their best efforts to escape. Sobering, she settled herself beside him and snuggled into the crook of his arm. He’d just given her the most wonderful moments of her life. She loved him with a depth of emotion she’d never before dreamed possible. He didn’t deserve to die at the hands of her personal enemies. But what could she do? How could she keep that from happening? The answer came easily. To save Brax, she’d have to leave him. The sooner the better. As tears filled her eyes, resignation took control of her mind. She would have to elude Brax so that she could sneak back into Lincoln, steal Emma’s journal again, and rescue Moses. Alone. Perhaps Mary Ealy would help, Ruby reasoned, once she heard the details of Emma’s death and understood Caleb Stone’s true nature. And perhaps not. That didn’t matter. All Ruby cared about was sparing the life of the extraordinary man lying beside her. She turned her head and kissed her husband’s slowly rising and falling chest. It was best that he slept. Before dawn, she’d slip away from him and start for town. That was the only way she could save both Moses and Brax—the two people she loved most in the whole world.

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Chapter 24 ALEXANDER McSween peered out the broken window into the street. His wife was weeping softly in the background. She and Mary Ealy had kept a vigil all night so the men could sleep. Nothing much had happened, save a few wild shots directed at the now-shattered parlor windows. “Looks quiet,” McSween said. “I think we should send the women and children out under a white flag.” Caleb Stone snorted and sneered. “Coward. ‘If God be for us, who can be against us?’” “The whole damned U.S. Army, that’s who,” McSween shot back. “You’re crazier than a loon if you think they aren’t getting ready to fire that cannon.” “Never,” Stone insisted. “If I am to die, it will be on a cross between two thieves.” Astounded, McSween looked to Taylor Ealy. The Presbyterian minister merely shook his head sadly, an incredulous expression on his drawn, weary face. “If they accept the white flag, I want you to leave, too,” McSween told Ealy. “Take care of the women and children for me.” The reverend stood firm. “If you stay, we stay.”

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“No. Think clearly, Taylor. I don’t dare set foot outside but you’ve been allowed to leave before, to tend to the wounded on both sides. You’re the logical one to go. Those of us who stay will rely on you to speak to Col. Dudley about letting us surrender and placing us all in the army’s protective custody.” “I might be able to do that,” Ealy said, brightening some. “We did dine with the colonel’s family while at the fort.” He went quickly to the desk. “I’ll pen the request for mercy and we’ll all sign it.” “Leave me out of it,” Caleb warned. “You fools may be afraid but I’m not.” Going to the window he placed his body in plain view of the vigilantes and lawmen outside. No one fired. “You see? I cannot be hurt. It’s the Lord’s will.” Ealy added his own signature below those of the other men, folded the note and headed for the door. Caleb overtook him. “Give me that. I told you, I...” “We know,” McSween said, his words dripping sarcasm. “You’re goddamn invincible.” Pocketing Ealy’s missive, Caleb jerked open the door. “Divine,” he corrected. “I’ll return with an answer very soon. Be ready, gentlemen. The new millennium is about to begin!”

IT HAD taken Ruby all morning to make her way back to town. She’d arisen early with the excuse that she wanted to relieve herself and wash in the creek. Brax had kissed her lightly, bidding her take her time.

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She’d put only bridles on their horses, saying she intended to water them while she bathed, then led them away. Escape had been easy. She’d secreted Brax’s horse and mounted her own, bareback, the way she used to as a girl in Kansas. Chances were good she’d been gone from the camp for an hour or more before Brax had discovered the deception. Skirting the blacksmith shop and Dolan’s store, Ruby planned to approach McSween’s from the rear. The protective adobe wall would hide her arrival. All she’d have to do was wait till Mary came out to use the facilities, then call to her over the wall. By standing atop her horse’s back and reaching up, Ruby figured she could hoist herself high enough to peek and make sure she wasn’t divulging her presence to the wrong person. The plan wasn’t perfect but it was the only one she’d come up with that wasn’t seriously flawed. A commotion in the street drew her attention. Halting next to the Dolan and Company store, she listened. Taylor Ealy was speaking—shouting, actually—and demanding that his wife come out of McSween’s. If Mary exited to the front where all the troops waited, Ruby would have no chance at all to speak privately with her. Urging the horse forward, Ruby circled the fringes of the crowd, keeping to the rear. There was so much bedlam coming from McSween’s house and yard, no one noticed the passage of the bedraggled rider

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on a saddle-less horse. Mary and Taylor Ealy were walking slowly toward the cannon with Glory trotting along beside her daddy and baby sister Grace cradled in Mary’s arms. Bringing up the rear was Mrs. McSween and her two children. Both little girls were clinging to their mother’s skirts and weeping inconsolably. Ruby saw the women glance back at the house. The anguish in their expressions was indescribable. As soon as the pitiful little group was behind his raggedly formed lines, the Army officer on command raised his saber in the air, then brought it down with a whoosh. New firing commenced against the house. Ruby craned her neck to look. Where was Moses?! How could Mary have left him in such mortal danger? She gasped as she saw a lone figure, dressed all in black, appear in the parlor window. The firing slowed, then ceased. No shots must have penetrated that particular window because the man didn’t falter. He stepped closer to the aperture; close enough that everyone could see he held a naked baby in his arms. A baby with cornsilk-yellow hair! The officer raised his saber again while barking commands. Ruby screamed. “No!” She spurred the horse into the fray. In the background, someone was yelling her name. Subconsciously, she knew Brax was the one who shouted to her. His dear voice would forever echo in her heart. Yet she dared not hesitate. If the officer lowered his saber the shooting would recommence.

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Moses was in the direct line of fire. Surely, he would die.

WITH SURPRISE as an ally, Ruby broke through the line of soldiers. Charging directly at the colonel, she reigned the horse to a halt and slid to the ground. “Stop this! There’s a baby in the window. Can’t you see that?!” Col. Dudley snorted. “The men in the house fired on my troopers. We have every right to defend ourselves.” “That baby didn’t shoot at anyone!” “I permitted the innocents to leave unmolested. If no one took that child, it’s not my fault.” “I’ll take him.” Ruby grasped the colonel’s arm and fell to her knees. “Please. I beg you. Let me go inside and fetch him.” Behind her, she heard a commotion and glanced back. Brax was being restrained by the same soldiers whose ranks she had breached. Her heart broke to see the anguish in his face. Dear, dear husband. How she did love him!

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“Get up,” Dudley ordered. Two of the men under his command dragged Ruby to her feet and away from the colonel. Mutterings of discontent had started to come from the gathered crowd. The overall mood seemed to have shifted in her favor, giving Ruby a faint hope she might prevail. Straightening his tunic, the colonel addressed her. “You bleeding-hearts are all alike. All right. If the man in the window agrees, I’ll let you go in and get the baby. But no tricks.” Tears of thanksgiving were streaming down Ruby’s face. In spite of her clever plans going awry, she was going to be able to save Moses! She nodded agreement, not trusting herself to speak. Dudley motioned to a nearby trooper, spoke softly to him, then dispatched him to the house under a flag of truce. Ruby held her breath, praying none of the men still in the house would be foolish enough to fire. Approaching the window, the messenger briefly exchanged words with Caleb, then trotted back to the colonel. “He says he’ll let the baby come out,” the trooper reported, eyeing Ruby nervously. “Go on,” Dudley ordered. “What else.” The young soldier cleared his throat, obviously loathe to repeat the rest. “He says...he says he’s the

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Almighty, himself. He wants this woman here, so he can have the vengeance that’s due him.” “Ye, gods!” Dudley let loosed a string of expletives so vile that some of his troops blushed. “I knew he was loco when I first met him.” “You can’t let her go in there, sir. I’m sure he means to kill her.” The colonel stood pompously erect. “What do we care what he means to do?” He turned to Ruby. “Well? Do you want that baby out of there, or not? We can’t stand here all day.” More calm than she should rationally be, Ruby nodded. “I’ll go in. Anything to save Moses.” She looked around, over the heads of the assembled crowd, for a sign of Mary Ealy. When she spotted Taylor, she spoke aside to the trooper who’d just delivered the other message. “Mrs. Ealy is standing over there with her husband,” Ruby said, pointing. “Would you please ask her to come and take charge of Moses for me?” “Yes, ma’am.” He bowed, left her, and in seconds was back with the preacher’s wife. The two women embraced tearfully. “Are you sure you want to do this?” Mary asked. “No. But I have to.” Pausing, Ruby wiped her eyes. “Moses is too young to really know me, so will you see to it he’s told about me when he’s older. No sad stories, please. Just so he knows how much I loved him.” Mary sobbed noisily. “I wish there was some way I could undo the past few hours. I swear to you, I

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didn’t know the judge was mad or I never would have let...” “I know you didn’t. Stone is very clever.” She took Mary’s hand. “I forgive you.” Glancing at the place where she’d last seen Brax, Ruby noted that the soldiers still held him fast. He’d ceased his struggles and was quietly staring at her. Although he was too far away to have heard her decision, she was certain he knew what she was about to do because his cheeks, too, glistened with tears. Still holding tight to Mary’s hand, Ruby led the trembling woman up the walk. The front door opened. Moses was placed in Mary’s arms. Grasping him tightly to her chest she turned and ran back to her husband. Ruby stepped quickly through the door. It closed behind her with a bang.

IT TOOK a few moments for Ruby’s eyes to adjust to the dimness. The once dignified house was in shambles. Bed rolls and blankets littered the floor. Hardly a window remained intact. Shards of glass lay everywhere, as did bits of bread and uneaten food. Several full chamber pots sat beside the stairway. They had spilled over onto the lovely Persian rug Mrs. McSween had been so proud of. Swallowing hard, Ruby ignored the other men and looked closely at Caleb. Gone was his usual

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aplomb and disdainful arrogance. In their place was a wild fervor, as if he had no true concept of where he was. Or of what was going on around him. His hair was mussed. His clothing was rumpled, dirty and torn. The unstable quality of his demeanor unnerved her. When he began to grin, her fright magnified. It was all she could do to stand her ground. “I’ve waited for you to be delivered to me,” he said. “It took a long time. You must have defied my angels.” Sensing the futility of rational conversation, Ruby merely nodded. “Excellent. You do understand,” he muttered, still bestowing his most sardonic smile upon her. “Then we shall commence. Come to me. I’ll cleanse you.” Ruby took a tentative step backward. “Now!” Caleb began to scream. He tore at his clothing, exposing himself. Ruby had expected him to beat her, or perhaps shoot her, but not to rape her! How dare he even suggest such a foul deed, especially in the presence of so many other men? Eyes wide with fear, she looked to them for help. McSween arose and came toward Caleb, his hands held out in supplication. “Calm down, Stone. We’ve all been under a strain. Once this is over, you’ll feel better.” “Over?” Caleb roared. “Over? It’ll not be over till I’ve risen from the dead. Don’t you know that? I

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thought you were a Bible-reading man.” Appalled, Ruby edged away. The other men were hanging back, apparently waiting to see whether Caleb shot McSween in cold blood, or the lawyer dispatched the madman in self-defense, instead. Outside the house, the shooting started again. Bullets whizzed by. Ruby instinctively ducked. So did McSween. Caleb, however, seemed truly impervious, just as he’d claimed. A man near the window shouted, drawing McSween back to his post and leaving her unprotected. Fortunately, Caleb seemed to have temporarily forgotten about her. Instead of renewing his attack, he closed his eyes and caressed himself with his good hand. The stump of his other hung idle, the bandage oozing. “It’s Boyle and Nash,” the lawyer reported, panicked. “They’re dousing the place with kerosene!” His face grew deathly pale. “We’re done for.” “We’ll make a run for it,” one of the others insisted. “All of us. Together. We can make it.” McSween shook his head. “Listen. Hear that crackle? They’ve started the fire. It’s too late.” He led the way to the front door. “It’s me they want. I’ll go first. Beckwith, Morris, Zamora, Romero...all of you, wait till you’re sure they’ve recognized me, then spread out and run. You might make it.”

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Looking back at Ruby, Alexander McSween managed a sad, weary smile. “You go last. After all the shooting’s stopped. It should be safe, then. Tell my wife I love her.” Breathing hard, Ruby nodded. The air was beginning to fill with acrid smoke. Nothing outside was visible through the windows, anymore. Flames licked up the lace curtains. The blaze ran across the ceiling of the parlor in dancing streaks of orange and yellow. Wider and wider tongues of flame made a sheet of fire as broad as the stairs were high. In the confusion, Ruby didn’t hear Caleb approach. His good arm encircled her shoulders like an iron band. The pistol in his hand pressed into her flesh. She tried to pull away. Beastly strength held her fast while heat from the building inferno surged overhead. “I will convey your regards to your wife,” Caleb said in his deep, orator’s voice. “Miss McKay won’t be leaving.” Every man froze in place and stared at him. Clearly mad, Caleb appeared to be the only one in the room still in complete control of himself. Seeing the others’ indecision, Ruby spoke to free them. “Go! All of you. Try to save yourselves for the sake of your families.” Still, they made no move to leave her. Slowly, Caleb lifted the pistol and placed the end of its barrel hard against her temple. “You heard the whore. Get your sorry asses out of here so I can finish my

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business with her.” He paused, his nostrils flaring. “Go! Before I shoot her where she stands!” Ruby held her breath. She thought of her dearest love, a prisoner outside, unable to come to her rescue. Oh, how his heart must be breaking! McSween and the others bolted through the open door. Volleys of shots rang out. Then, there was a deathly silence, broken only by the roar of the licking flames and the distant wailing of women. Coughing till he was bent double, Caleb lowered the pistol. His hand hung limply at his side. His eyes swam with tears from the dense smoke. Ruby cast about for an avenue of escape. The front door was completely obliterated by the inferno. There must be another way out. There had to be! She started for the rear of the house, then paused for a heartbeat to look back. Caleb’s hair was singed. His cheeks were red as an over-ripe persimmon. Flames licked around his ankles. It was as if he felt nothing. Cared about nothing. In his altered state of mind, he had apparently achieved that which he sought. He was beyond the temporal. Above the curse of his flesh. Whatever his original reasons for remaining in the burning building, Ruby could see that Caleb Stone was now functioning on the level of a simple-minded child. She couldn’t just abandon someone that defenseless. She also couldn’t make herself move back toward him. Couldn’t force her hands to touch him. Not

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him. Crouching low beneath the thickest of the smoke cloud, she called out, “Come on! We can go out the back.” “Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego,” Caleb shouted. “The dead in Christ shall rise...Fear not, for I am with you always, even onto the end of the world.” “Please, listen! Follow me.” The more frantic Ruby became, the more the judge withdrew into the fantasy of his broken mind. Gasping for air, she staggered backwards. Stumbled. Fell. Righted herself. The stairwell was rapidly becoming a chimney for the advancing fire. There was no more time to argue. In the blur of choking, curling smoke, Ruby saw Caleb raise his mutilated left arm parallel with his remaining hand and smile. He said, “See? I told you. I told you all. I’m restored to fullness.” His hair began to smolder. Ruby gathered her skirts, turned and ran.

BRAX SCREAMED out Ruby’s name over and over as the front of the house was consumed. McSween had gotten as far as the porch, fallen, and given up. He’d accepted the barrage of bullets without trying to defend himself. The others had been cut down in various parts of the yard as their escape efforts failed.

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Only Ruby and Stone had remained inside the house. And now, it no longer mattered. Weeping openly, Brax stopped struggling against the troopers who had restrained him. They let him go. In a daze, he wandered away, so bereft he neither knew nor cared where he was going. If there really were a God in heaven, surely He wouldn’t have permitted poor Ruby to die so horribly, so senselessly. Angry beyond words, Brax shot those cold, vindictive thoughts to the sky as he rounded the corner of McSween’s protective wall. All he wanted was a private place in which to give full vent to his sorrow. Stamping through the already trampled vegetable garden, he stared, unseeing, into the distance. Annie’s death had been all his fault. Now he’d lost Ruby, too. All because he’d failed to protect her well enough. Failed to realize that she would try to return for the baby against any odds. A flash of bright color drew his attention. He wiped his eyes on his dusty sleeve. The fire had apparently spread to the yard. Some unseen force spurred him on, drew him to seek out the source of the flames. It was moving! Fire was licking up the folds of a woman’s skirt! Her headlong flight fanned the blaze. Every step she took made the situation worse. Brax’s heart almost failed him on the spot. Ruby! Dear Lord, it was Ruby. And she was on fire! He began to race toward her. She stumbled, giving him precious seconds in which to overtake her. Flinging himself into the air he

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stretched. Reached as far as he could. She must not regain her footing. Must not continue to run. Or she’d burn to death for sure. Brax’s hands connected with her waist. His upper body came to rest in the midst of the fiery fabric. Rolling over and over, he held her to him and prayed his efforts would be enough. She was fighting him like a roped wild cat. Thank God she still had such strength! “Ruby! Ruby, stop. It’s me!” Gasping for breath, she came to her senses. Crying out, she flung her arms around his neck. “Brax! I thought I’d lost you.” “Never, sweetheart.” Clasping her close, he showered her smoky cheeks with a myriad of kisses. “Never. Oh, dear God, thank you.” Ruby wasn’t about to argue. It was highly probable that she was the only survivor of the final attack on the McSween house. It was only by the grace of a kind Providence that she found herself in her lover’s arms instead of lying dead, like the others. “Moses.” She coughed, gagged. “Is he all right?” “Mary has him. He’s out of danger. I’m sure of it.” Ruby hugged him harder. “And you? Were you burned?” “No.” Brax pulled back so he could look at her. It was still hard to believe she lay in his arms, a

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living, breathing miracle. “How about you? Your legs?” “I...I don’t think so. Oh, Brax, we’re so lucky!” A long shadow fell across them as a man’s voice said, “You’re right about that, ma’am.” Brax instinctively reached for his sidearm. The holster was empty, thanks to the soldiers’ diligence. The man pointedly held his hands away from his own guns in a gesture of trust. “No need for that, Mr. Rutledge. I didn’t come here to do either of you harm.” Brax lurched to his feet, prepared to do hand-to-hand battle. “You’re the bastard that shot Tillie!” The man backed away, palms forward, hands up in surrender and supplication. “Not on purpose.” Ruby clambered to her feet, too. She stood behind Brax, grasping his arm. Her spirit plummeted. How much more of this could she possibly bear? Would Stone’s persecution go on forever, even after his death? The man removed his black Bowler and bowed. “John Ellis, at your service, ma’am. I’m sorry to report that I personally shot and killed a woman named Ruby McKay, in New Mexico Territory, a few months back. I saw her buried, myself.” He paused and smiled, letting the portent of his words sink in. When Ruby’s mouth dropped open, he continued. “Another woman, also identified as a Miss McKay, was arrested recently in Lincoln County for kidnapping a baby. Sadly, a negligent U.S. Army detachment failed to insure her safety. She was burned to death in the McSween fire, on July nineteenth.” He smiled.

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“I’d swear to those facts in any court of law.” Brax scowled. “You mean it?” Grinning more broadly, Ellis replaced his hat and tapped it into place. “Sure do. But if I were you, mister, I’d get this poor, nameless lady out of the way before some trooper sees her and confuses things, again.” He pointed to the east, past the now-damaged adobe wall. “There’s a rig waiting behind the stable. It used to be mine but I seem to have misplaced it. Don’t intend to report it stolen, either, in case you were wondering.” Sure of John Ellis’s veracity, Ruby stepped up to him and boldly placed a kiss on his cheek. “This nameless woman thanks you,” she said, her voice still raspy from the smoke. “And I,” Brax added, scooping her up in his arms. Two soldiers had just rounded the far corner of the house. He didn’t intend to stand around jawing. Ellis passed him at a trot, heading in the opposite direction. Brax heard him shout something to divert the troopers’ attention. Ruby clung to her husband’s neck and buried her face against his chest. She hated to cause him more worry, especially now, but she had to ask. “What should we do about Moses?” “Nothing, for now. He’ll be safe with the Ealys. Uncle John put his lawyers to work on the problem.

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We should have Moses back in no time.” He smiled down at her. “Chisum has applied to be made his legal guardian but we’ll be the ones to actually take charge of the boy.” Ruby’s initial relief was tempered by her strong sense of right and wrong. Finally she said softly, “No.” “No?” Brax was confused. “I thought you wanted to raise Moses as our own.” “I did. I do.” She managed a smile. “I love him dearly, only...” Ruby paused long enough to choke back the feeling of loss and make sure her final decision was the fairest one. “He’s really Pearce’s son.” “Granted.” Brax waited for her to continue. “The only way for us to escape the past is to cut all ties. Permanently. If we take Moses and disappear, the authorities will never stop looking for us. And Nancy will never get to know her grandson. Don’t you think the baby belongs in a safe, stable home with his real papa?” Sighing, Brax nodded. “Yes, I do. I’m just amazed that you see it that way.” They had reached the hack Ellis had left for them. Brax swung her aboard, then joined her on the narrow seat, taking up the reins. A sooty, stinging tear slipped down Ruby’s cheek in spite of her firm resolve. She cuddled up to her husband, laid her head against his shoulder, and grasped his strong arm for both moral and physical support. “In a perfect world, I wouldn’t have to let Moses go.”

Wages of Sin

Valerie Whisenand

424

“In a perfect world, Caleb Stone would never have been born,” Brax said flatly. Shivering, Ruby pictured the way her nemesis had looked just before the fire had consumed him. There’d been no sign of the terror he should have been feeling. No indication that he feared what was to come. No urge to flee in spite of her last-minute pleas. The machinations of his unhinged mind had brought him to the scene of his violent death and held him there till the deed was done. The wages of sin was death. It was Divine justice of the highest order. Ruby could not have asked for more.

Wages of Sin

Valerie Whisenand

425

Epilogue THROUGH intermediaries, Ruby had arranged for Chisum’s lawyers to deliver her last will and testament to Kansas. Since she was officially dead, Moses inherited everything, thereby giving Nancy Hocker a permanent place to live while she helped Pearce raise his son. The Chisum brothers, Pitzer, James, Jeff and of course, Uncle John, had bought out Brax’s ranching interests in New Mexico Territory and forwarded the money to him in Texas. He’d laid low for awhile, then eventually started a new spread south of San Saba. Remembering the day Brax had renamed her, Ruby smiled. She was now called, Rachel, after the beautiful sister in the bible. Fittingly, he’d chosen Jacob for himself. Now and again, they still referred to each other by their old names in private, though not as often, of late. She gazed fondly at the cradle he’d made for their first-born. Little Johnny had quickly outgrown the tiny bed. The toddler was presently fast asleep on a pallet atop the bed she and her husband shared. The enticing aromas of fresh-baked cornbread and pinto beans filled the cozy house. Ruby had been cooking all morning. Anything to occupy her mind while she waited anxiously for the return of the man she loved.

Wages of Sin

Valerie Whisenand

426

Brax burst through the door, startling her out of her reverie. “Ummm. I must of died and went to heaven,” he shouted, throwing his hat onto a chair and heading straight for her. “Brax!” Ruby ran into his embrace. He swung her off the floor and kissed her soundly. She kissed him back. “I’ve missed you so!” Holding her as if he was afraid she’d vanish if he let go, he closed his eyes and drank in the wondrousness of their shared devotion. “I’ve missed you, too, darlin’. So much.” He paused to kiss her again and again. Breathlessly elated to have him home, Ruby laughed as she pushed him away playfully. “Enough of that nonsense, Mr. Rutledge. What have you brought me from Uncle John’s? Did I get any letters?” “Fine thing,” he countered with a sly smile. “I’ve been stuck on the trail, eating cattle dust for weeks, and all you care about is the mail.” She pulled a face. “You know that’s not true. “I know.” He relented. Handing her a packet, he stood aside while she tore into it and started reading. A wistful smile illuminated her face. “Moses is well. Nancy says he’s grown another inch!” “And he’s a handsome devil, I’ll wager. Which reminds me. Where’s my son?” “Asleep.” Ruby smiled up at him. “On our bed. He outgrew the cradle. Climbed right out and crawled off while you were gone.”

Wages of Sin

Valerie Whisenand

427

“No!” “Yes. I knew you’d want to make his new bed yourself, so I didn’t ask one of the hands to do it.” She turned back to her letter. “Listen to this. Sarah and Pearce are going to be married! Isn’t that wonderful?” Her husband had helped himself to a big slab of warm cornbread. “Mmm. What else?” “Oh, my.” “What’s wrong?” Ruby began to giggle. “Nothing. Nothing at all. Remember how we thought Nellie was going to break poor Nancy’s heart and marry Mr. Wills?” She waited until Brax nodded, then continued, “Well, it turns out Nellie had totally misinterpreted the poor man’s motives. He was just trying to be kind to her. When she figured it all out, she gave Rias the mitten and ran off with a drummer!” “Nancy and Rias can marry?” “She says she doesn’t think they will. I suspect she may eventually change her mind, though. Especially since Mr. Hocker has taken another wife. A much younger one.” “That man has no sense,” Brax said with a grin. “Imagine, sparking at his age.” Ruby swatted him lightly with the cherished letter. “And what does age have to do with it? Are you telling me that you’re too old for such nonsense?” She faced him, hands on her hips. “Is that it?” He feigned a stooped appearance. “Well, I’m not the man I used to be.”

Wages of Sin

Valerie Whisenand

428

“True. You’re better.” Ruby slid her arms around his neck, thoroughly enjoying the look of pleased surprise on his face. She smiled. Blushed. “Aren’t you going to ask me why I said that?” “No need,” he said. “All I have to do is wait and you’ll tell me. You never could keep your opinions to yourself.” She faced him boldly. Proudly. “You’re right. And it’s my opinion that as a father you’re a huckleberry above a persimmon, Mr. Rutledge. I think it’s a shame to waste all that goodness on one little boy, so...” Pulling her close, Brax whispered, “Are you asking me what I think you are?” “Sorry,” she said, giggling. “I’m afraid it’s already far too late to ask...this time.”

~ The End ~