Colorado Bride (50 page)

“Why isn’t Lucas here?” asked Bill as a sharp whistle brought his horse loping out of the brush.

“He went ahead to see about liberating the little lady who runs the place. He just asked her to marry him.”

Bill gave a long, low whistle as he climbed into the saddle. “I wouldn’t be in Staples’s shoes right now for all the gold in Colorado.” He fired three evenly spaced shots from his rifle, and then followed it with two very quick shots. “That’ll bring the rest of them” he said, putting his spurs into his horse’s side. “Let’s go.”

Sam was already three jumps ahead of him.

“There’s no use for you looking to me to save you,” Jake said irritably to Katie. “I’ll be hard-pressed to figure a way to keep from having my own hide hung up on the barn door.”

“Why should I be looking to the likes of you for help?” Katie inquired, her eyes flashing derisively. To be sure it would take a man like Mr. Barrow to handle those ruffians. You do be a dreadful poor example of the breed when set next to him.”

“You don’t look so wonderful yourself compared to Mrs. Simpson,” Jake shot back. “That woman would have us out of here in a jiffy.”

“That woman
wouldn’t need to. Mr. Barrow would do it for her.”

“You two shut up your arguing. You been at it tooth and toenail most of the night, and I’m sick of it.”

“Why should I be caring what the likes of you be sick of,” Katie asked him impudently. “Any one of me five brothers could whip you whilst they be drunk.” The man glowered at Katie then turned back to watch the yard. “I could whip you meself if you weren’t such a coward as to come at me from behind and then truss me up like a Christmas goose.’ Tis a poor example of men folks you be.”

“I said shut up before I make you,” the man yelled, losing his temper at Katie’s baiting.

“Ye might as well go casting at the moon as to try to shut me up,” Katie said, her glance clearly challenging him. “’Tis a task you’re not man enough to handle.”

“Well just see about that,” the man said, rising from his crouched position and heading back to where Katie and Jake were trussed up across from each other in one of the horse stalls.

“It won’t hurt nothing to let them talk, Sully,” his companion advised without taking his eyes from the road down which the stage would come. “A sharp tongue never cut no ropes.”

“That Irish setting hen is getting on my nerves. My bandanna in her mouth ought to quieten things a bit.”

Katie struggled to get out of reach and then to dodge Sully when he leaned around her to put the bandanna’ in her mouth. While his back was turned, Jake shook off the ropes Katie had worked loose during the night and threw himself at Sully. The sounds of a tussle drew the attention of the man at the window, and he turned around to see Jake and Sully rolling over in the hay, Jake’s hands on Sully’s throat. He hurried across the stable to help his companion, unaware that Katie had scrambled into the adjacent stall and stood waiting for him, a large shovel poised over her head. When he drew his gun and aimed, waiting for Jake’s back to be to him, Katie brought the shovel down on his head with such force it left an impression in the metal. The man slumped to the floor and Katie scooped up his rifle and took his guns. Just about then Jake rolled over and banged Sully’s head into the six-by-six post at the end of the stall divider and he, too, subsided into oblivion.

The sound of shots from outside drew their attention. “Let’s get them tied up,” Jake said as he began dragging Sully over to one of the twelve-inch support beams in order to tie his feet and legs around it. “It sounds like the stage is coming in. I didn’t do too bad,” he said after the men were safely secured to the poles.

“I suspect you might turn out to be rather respectable as long as you had a good woman to keep your nose to it” tie said as she picked up a rifle and hurried to one of the windows.

“A man never has to wonder why you left Ireland,” Jake fumed. “They chased you out.”

“I came here to get away from drunkards and braggarts” Katie said. “From what I’ve seen, I was better off where I was.”

“It’s for damned sure
we
were,” Jake snapped. He picked up a rifle and prepared to take out his frustration on the outlaws.

The repeated shots from inside the station told Carrie that the stage had reached the yard. She rattled the door as hard as she could, but the latch was caught. If she could just figure some way to open the door. Baca and Staples would be too busy shooting to pay any attention to her, and she might be able to get away. But she could think of nothing she could wedge between the door and the frame that was strong enough to lift the latch on the other side.

Suddenly she remembered a set of knives she had bought and stored in the pantry, but her hopes fell just as quickly. The knives couldn’t turn the right angle either. If there were just some way to remove the door jamb. The knives! Maybe she could pry the door jamb loose with the knives. Carrie felt around in the dark until she found the box. She opened it and carefully felt for one of the knives. The blades were thin and not very strong and she didn’t know if they would work. She inserted one knife between the door jamb and the frame and pulled. Nothing happened, so she pulled harder. The knife blade snapped. The sound was lost in the noise of the rifle shots, and Carrie shoved the second knife into the slot, but it, too, broke when she applied pressure.

Carrie tried not to lose her head. She had only one more knife, and she had to make this one work. The first two knives had made a thin slot in the door jamb, and she pushed the knife in all the way up to the hilt. She was sure the blade must be showing outside the door and hoped neither Baca or Staples would turn around. Gradually she applied pressure, keeping the pressure on the thick part of the knife and the knife handle. Carrie felt a sudden snap and thought the last knife had broken, but she was relieved to discover that the wood had parted from the frame and she would work her knife up under the latch.

In seconds she had the door open, but what should she do next? The knife was still in her hands, but she didn’t think she could use it. Just the thought of driving it into living flesh made her queasy. She felt about in the closet and her hands closed around one of the Smithfieid hams she had brought with her. It was hard as a rock. If she could just sneak up behind Staples, she might be able to hit him hard enough to knock him out. She didn’t know what she would do about Baca Riggins, but she would think about that when she had to.

Carrie eased open the door, and the first thing that came into her line of vision was one of the windows at the back of the station; what she saw at that window literally took her breath away. Lucas had raised the window and was climbing into the room. And he had a gun pointed at the backs of the two men at the front windows.

For a moment Carrie was too weak with relief to move. Lucas was safe! Lucas was here! He had come after her. Then she realized he was trying to capture two men separated by about twelve feet, each of them armed and each of them willing to shoot to kill. She must take out one of the men, and Jason was the one nearest her.

Praying the hinges would not squeak, Carrie threw open the pantry door to attract Lucas’s attention. It worked, and for a split second Carrie thought Lucas was going to shoot
her,
but he recognized her in time to release the pressure on the trigger. Pausing only a second to recover her wits and her strength—seeing the gun swing in her direction had left her as weak as water—she motioned toward Jason and raised the ham over her head to indicate what she meant to do. Lucas understood at once, and together they each approached their victim, each of them painfully aware that if either of the outlaws turned around too soon, someone was likely to die.

Oddly enough, it was Baca who sensed that something was wrong and turned to see the pantry door ajar and Carrie approaching Jason with the raised ham. He swung his rifle around and opened his mouth to call to Jason at the same time, but a blast from the barrel of Lucas’s gun sent a bullet deep into his shoulder. Baca’s rifle fell from his grasp, but even as he screamed with pain, he reached for it again.

Jason Staples whirled at the sound of Baca’s scream. Unfortunately for him, the direction of his turn brought him directly into the path of Carrie’s Smithfield ham, and she sent him sprawling. Carrie saw Jason reach for the gun in his holster even as he fell, and then she saw Lucas dive on top of the outlaw leader. Fearful for Lucas’s safety, she picked up Jason’s dropped rifle, aimed a shot at Baca’s rifle, which sent it spinning out of reach, and then turned her weapon on Baca himself.

“I’m a little upset right now. I don’t know much about a rifle and my nerves aren’t too steady, so if you don’t want a bullet in your heart, you won’t move an inch.”

Carrie couldn’t keep her eyes off the two men rolling on the floor, especially since she saw that Jason had somehow gotten a knife in his hands. Lucas didn’t weigh as much as the outlaw and Jason was using his weight to his advantage, but Lucas was stronger and more agile, and after a terrific struggle, he was able to knock the knife from Jason’s hand. It slid in Baca’s direction, and he was unwise enough to reach for it. A blast from Carrie’s rifle put a bullet into the floor next to the knife and raised a shower of splinters that embedded memselves into the soft flesh of Baca’s palm. His hand looked like the back of a porcupine.

“I’ve about lost patience with your stupidity,” Carrie said to Baca, who stared at her in stunned surprise. “Next time I’ll shoot you instead of the floor.” Baca had had sufficient proof of Carrie’s marksmanship and nerve, and he sank back against the wall.

Meanwhile, Lucas had succeeded in getting atop Jason and he was able to rap his head sharply against the floor. Lucas drove his fist into the jaw of the momentarily dazed outlaw, and before Jason could recover himself, Carrie placed the barrel end of her rifle against his forehead.

“Don’t move,” Carrie said, anger flooding over her now that Lucas was no longer in danger. “After what you’ve done to my station and my people, I just might kill you.”

“I wouldn’t think of it,” Jason said, accepting his defeat with amazing calmness. “I always thought you were more of a man than Baca.”

“Listen!” Lucas said, and Carrie realized that it was quiet outside. “The fighting’s stopped.” The door burst open, and Sam Butler and Bill Cody rushed in, guns drawn ready to fire.

“I should have known it,” Sam said when he saw Jason Staples lying at Carrie’s feet. “If she could beat a whole posse to flinders, I don’t know why I thought she would have any trouble with one no-account outlaw.”

“You two all right?” Bill asked Lucas. “This place looks a wreck.” Carrie hadn’t had time to notice, but the cans of fruit, the spilled coffee, flour, and Baca’s blood along with fallen chairs and shattered windowpanes and tattered curtains had turned the model dining room into a total disaster.

“We’re okay,” Carrie assured him with a smile. “This place will fix up a lot easier than either of us would.”

“Get to your feet, both of you,” Lucas ordered. “You’ve got a long ride ahead.”

“Baca, you should have taken your beating and run,” Sam Butler said to the sullen ex-station manager. “When you joined up with Jason Staples, you bought into his troubles. But then you always were a stupid man.”

Jason and Baca were herded out into the station yard, and Carrie saw men converging on the station from several points around the property, several of them with captured outlaws walking before them. She heaved a great sigh of relief when she saw Katie and Jake emerge from the barn, but her relief was short-lived. Jake was wounded and leaning on Katie and Found for support.

Most surprising of all, the stage was still moving. The reins had been tied so that the horses had to always turn to the right, and it had been going in a huge circle about the yard all during the fight.

That was a right neat trick” Sam said, noticing the direction of her glance. ‘As long as the stage kept moving, none of the outlaws had a chance to jump aboard, and your men yonder had themselves a shot at every outlaw each time that stage went around. You got yourself some crew here.”

“It’s Lucas’s crew. I can’t take any credit for anyone but Katie and Jake.”

“And yourself,” Lucas said, unable to conceal his pride. “You’re not a bad player to have on one’s side.”

“I can tell you she’s a damned fierce customer as an enemy,” Sam observed. “I heard you was fixing to marry her.”

“You heard correctly,” Lucas said, putting his arm around Carrie and pulling her to him. “Just as soon as we can get these men into town. I’m told there’s a preacher in Fort Malone with lots of time on his hands, and I intend to claim a few minutes of it.”

“You’d better not get itchy feet. That’s the wrong woman to step out on.”

“I know gold when I see it” Lucas said, “and I can assure you this is the real thing.”

Carrie turned her head away, embarrassed by the compliments in front of so many people and saw Bap’s head slowly come into view at one of the stage windows.

“Is anybody going to stop those fool horses, or do I have to risk my neck climbing up to the box?”

“You just hold on,” Jake said, suddenly acting a lot less decrepit. “You might fall off, and I wouldn’t want the stage to run over you.” When Bap’s features took on an air of self-importance, he added, “One of the horses might break a leg, and it would be a shame to lose a good animal.”