Jodi Thomas (21 page)

The old man appeared nervous. “We meant no harm. We only wanted to help you and the child. When we reach the next town, you will not tell anyone we are here, please?”

Bailee stared at him. “You ... all of you are running also? Like Piper and me.”

The man nodded but still looked fearful. “Not like you. You are running to safety. We only run away. For us there is no place named safety.”

Bailee wanted to ease his fears. “We were being shot at by someone who wants Piper dead. If I hadn’t jumped on the train, I’m not sure what might have happened to us.”

“But why would anyone want to kill such a fine little girl?” he asked. “Or a lady?”

“Outlaws who think she might be able to identify them. Men who wrecked a train and killed everyone but her.”

He nodded and she noticed several of the others who were listening also nodded. The fear she’d seen in all their eyes faded as they saw a glimpse of her trouble.

Bailee lowered her voice, suddenly wanting to share. “We hoped to get her to her father, but a shooter opened fire at the station. Now we have no idea when her family will pick her up, and I left my husband behind to face the outlaw alone. There was a sheriff with us, but he was shot. I don’t know if he’s alive or not. It all happened so fast, and with the rain I could see little.”

The people in their strange layered rags moved closer and asked questions, first shyly, then more boldly. Their problems were forgotten as they worried about the child who was now unprotected and unable to communicate.

Bailee relaxed, relating every detail of the past few days. She even showed everyone how Carter moved his hands and sang a silent song to Piper.

They all commented about how this Carter McKoy must be a good husband. Bailee agreed. She’d been lucky in the drawing. She had picked a good man, a brave man. Today had proved it.

As the train sped through the rainy shadows toward Cedar Bend, one by one the people relaxed. Each one told his story in tiny parts that fit together like a puzzle. They were all of the same family, uncles, cousins, brothers.

They had no home in Europe so thought to find one in America. But no matter where they went, it was the same story. Someone’s cow died, or a wagon was stolen, or a barn caught fire. They were always blamed. Finally they made it to Galveston, thinking they’d be safe, but three nights ago a drunken mob shoved them onto the train without even allowing them to gather all their belongings. Now they traveled, just traveled, hoping to outrun trouble.

Bailee watched them closely. She saw the hollowness in their cheeks, the thin hands, the dark circles beneath their even darker eyes. They never mentioned the word, but she knew who they were. She’d heard stories of a people, dark and wild, who caused trouble wherever they went. Gypsies.

Lacy crossed Bailee’s thoughts. She remembered how the people on the wagon train had considered it grand that she had a gift of nursing. But when the sick wife she’d been hired to tend while they traveled across country died, the women of the train began to talk. They mentioned the strange way Lacy talked of luck and blessings and curses. They told of hearing her chant when she brewed a mixture of herbs by a campfire late one night. One of the older women even swore she saw Lacy dancing beneath the moon.

The days on the trail were boring, and speculating about Lacy became first a game, then a plot the women played. She went from being valued nurse to an extra without a wagon, or a family. Extra baggage.

When Lacy offered to try to nurse Sarah back to health, the others turned on her. They saw Sarah as a poison in the group. Lacy must have been a witch or a simpleton not to be afraid of her. Though they disliked Bailee for offering Sarah a ride, they resented Lacy for trying to stop what they all believed should happen. Sarah should die, if for no other reason than all her family had. Sarah had somehow sinned by living when her husband and child died.

These people huddled around Bailee now were no different than Lacy. They were looking for somewhere to belong. They helped Piper, and for that Bailee owed them her loyalty. Yet they seemed afraid their good deed would be punished.

The whistle blew—one long, one short blast.

“We’re coming into Cedar Bend.” Bailee took action. “It’s only a little town, and my home is two hour’s ride away on dry roads. In this rain it may take us most of the night, but once we’re there, we’ll be safe.” She stood and raised her voice. “Come home with me. All of you.”

The men shook their heads. The fear in their eyes returned. “It is better to keep going,” one mumbled.

“We know not this place,” another whispered. “We must travel farther.”

“We know no place,” came an answer from the back of the car.

“You can rest,” Bailee pleaded. “We have a ranch with plenty of stores of food. I know my husband would want you to at least rest for a few days with us.” Bailee knew no such thing, but she said it so strongly, she almost believed it herself. “I was told once that Cedar Bend was named after a lone cedar tree that the Apache tied so that it would bend and point toward their winter camp. Let it point you toward a resting place now.”

No one moved. Fear settled once more over the boxcar.

Bailee closed her eyes. She couldn’t bear to think of these people who’d just saved her life, starving as they rode half frozen on a train to nowhere. “Come home with me, please. I need you to so badly. I have no one to protect Piper and me. I can’t get her to the safety of my land alone. I need your help. You helped us once. You may be all that stands between us and death tonight.”

When she opened her eyes, they’d stopped shaking their heads. The old man stood in front of her. His gaze circled the room. “We will consider. If we are needed.”

“Piper’s already been shot once. The outlaws may try again. I left my husband behind to face a shooter. He may already be dead. I’m not sure I can keep her alive by myself.”

Slowly one by one, the people nodded.

Bailee began doing what she did best, organizing. “First, we have to get off the train without anyone in town seeing us. I spent a week in town watching this train go by my cell ... I mean room. It only stops for a few minutes. We’ll have to hurry to get everyone out of the back of the car and into the breaks beyond the tracks. There’s not enough cover to hide this many people in daylight, but at night, with the rain, we might just make it.”

The people collected their few belongings.

“I have to get to my friend without anyone seeing me. She lives in the center of town. She can help me get my husband’s wagon and maybe one other.”

A boy of about fifteen stepped forward. “My name is Rom. I can be a shadow in the rain. I will take you to your friend.”

“Good.” Bailee put together a plan in her head faster than she’d ever been able to organize a dinner party at her father’s house. “All of you stay hidden until I come back. I promise I won’t be long. Rom and I will be back with wagons. In the meantime, I know you will keep Piper safe among you.”

She looked at the child resting in the old woman’s arms. Piper trusted the woman, Bailee could see it in the child’s eyes.

The first part of the plan worked. Ten minutes after the train stopped, everyone was lying on the buffalo grass to the east of the tracks. The rain acted as a curtain, protecting them from anyone in town who happened to be glancing in their direction.

Bailee moved in the shadows with her guide until they reached the side stairs that led to Lacy’s apartment over the print shop. The boy stayed behind, hidden beneath the stairs as Bailee hurried up the steps. She noticed he kept his hand at his belt and knew, without asking, that he carried a knife and was prepared to use it, if needed.

The knowledge frightened her a little. These people might not all be the gentle angels of mercy she thought them.

“Lacy,” she called softly as she knocked. “Lacy, it’s Bailee.”

The door flew open. Lacy hugged her friend tight. “I was so worried. We got word a few hours ago that a sheriff was shot in Childress in a gun battle. I knew you were there and was so afraid. Was it Riley shot or another ? If there was trouble, it’s just like him to be in the middle of it. Where’s Carter? Did he see the child? Could he talk with her?”

“I’m all right, but I don’t know about Riley, or even Carter.”

Lacy pulled Bailee into her little apartment. “I went over to the sheriff’s office, but that nitwit Deputy Wheeler said he didn’t know anything more than what I heard. Riley is going to be plenty mad when he gets back and finds out the buzzards have been nesting in his place.” Lacy covered her wet friend with a towel. “Riley is coming back? He can’t be hurt bad.”

Bailee shivered as she told Lacy all that had happened while Lacy got dressed and collected all the blankets and towels she owned.

“We have to get these people and Piper to the ranch without anyone seeing,” Lacy agreed. “From what you tell me, half of them will catch a fever if they don’t get warm and dry.”

“If you’ll help with the wagon, I can drive them.”

Lacy stopped her packing. “Are you joking! I’m going with you. You’re not having an adventure without me. I got nursing skills, too, remember. I’ll have a look at this little Piper’s wound.”

“It could be dangerous.”

Lacy laughed. “Like traveling alone across country without even a gun or killing a guy who planned to kill us. I’ve been nothing but bored around here waiting for my Frank. It’s time I got my heart pumping again. Come on along, we’ve got work to do tonight.”

Lacy pushed Bailee out the side door and down the stairs. “I’d do anything to help you. We’re sisters of the soul. You know, bound by something stronger than blood. If somebody’s shooting at you, I’m not leaving your side.”

With the light of a small lantern, they locked arms and moved into the alley. “There would be too many questions if we rented a wagon from Mosely,” Lacy whispered, her voice high with excitement, “but I know someone who will not only loan you his wagon, he’ll drive you to your place.”

Without another word, they hurried through the back alley.

Pulled up beside the livery, protected from most of the rain, was a lone wagon covered with a thick tarp. “I met this fellow last night. In a town this size, you tend to notice when someone new comes in. My father-in-law tried to get him to sleep inside our shop for the night, but he said he’d be heading out to Carter’s place as soon as the rain slowed.” She leaned close and whispered, “He reminds me of a badger and seems just about as friendly. He can’t see much without his glasses, and you have to almost yell to get him to hear.”

Lacy patted on the canvas as though it were the front door. “Mr. Samuel! You in there?”

A gray-haired man with a mustache that went from ear to ear poked his head out of the wagon. “I’m not bothering anyone. Leave me be.” He tried to put on thick glasses in the rain.

“Mr. Samuel!” Lacy jumped up, grabbing his shirt so he couldn’t pull back inside the wagon. “This is Carter’s wife and she needs your help. So get out here and listen for a minute.”

The grumpy man crawled from the wagon and stepped into the lantern light. His face still carried a frown, but he nodded politely. “Why didn’t you say so, Miss Lacy?” He slicked his hair back with a wide hand. “I’m Samuel Dodge, ma’am. I’m sure your husband’s mentioned me.”

Bailee didn’t want to appear impolite. She had heard Sheriff Riley mention that Carter had a handyman help him out every year with carpentry. This had to be the man. “Of course,” Bailee took a guess. “He says you taught him everything he knows about building.”

Samuel stood a little straighter. “That I did. The boy would be living in a hole like a rabbit if it weren’t for me. I stop by twice a year at his place and stay as long as I’m needed.” His pale gray eyes flickered in the lantern’s light as his glasses slipped to the tip of his nose. “How may I be of service, Mrs. McKoy?”

There was no time to explain. “I need your wagon and the one belonging to Carter that’s stored inside Mosely’s barn if we can get it without the man knowing. I have a load to pick up near the station that must get to my place as soon as possible.”

Samuel laughed. “That’ll be no problem. Mosely has been drinking like he came into an inheritance and can’t wait to spend it. He won’t be stumbling back to the livery for at least another hour, maybe more. We’ll have time to take the wagon and have the rain erase our tracks before he notices.”

Bailee leaned closer. “Aren’t you going to ask any questions?”

“Don’t need to, Mrs. McKoy.” He shook his head. “I wouldn’t have worked for your husband for years if I was a questioning man. I can drive my own wagon, if you can drive Carter’s.”

Bailee looked at Lacy. They’d fought their way across hundreds of miles; surely they could handle Texas mud. “I can handle it,” Bailee answered. “But I don’t know if I can manage to harness the team in the dark.”

“I will help.”

The voice came from nowhere through the darkness. Samuel jumped and Lacy let out a little scream.

Bailee laughed. “Everyone, meet my shadow, Rom.”

The boy stepped into the circle of light.

Samuel offered his hand. “Glad to have your help.” He looked around. “Any more of you standing around?”

“Just me,” Rom said shyly.

“Well, help me with the wagons, Rom.” Samuel glanced over his shoulder at Bailee. “If you’ll stand out of the rain, we’ll bring them around directly.”

Bailee and Lacy huddled together beneath the overhang of the barn.

“I’ll run leave a note that I’ve gone with Samuel to visit you,” Lacy whispered. “My father-in-law won’t know if I left it tonight or in the morning. I’ll tell him to say nothing to anyone, just in case.”

“Tell him to watch the trains for Carter.” Bailee tried to keep her voice calm. “I don’t even know if my husband is alive.”

Lacy hugged her tightly. “Neither do I,” she whispered. “Just do like I do. Think of him alive until you know different.”