The Fall of Rome (30 page)

“I’m closed for the night, lady,” he heard the owner call.

“I just need something to settle my stomach. I’ll be two minutes,” she said.

“You’ve got one! You, too, mister.”

Elroy spun and knocked into the she-devil who’d launched this nightmare. His lungs seized as his brain scrambled for a way to get him out of this hellish debacle. She backed up a step, swallowed. “I know you.”

He could tell she couldn’t place him just yet. He’d changed a lot since she’d last seen him in San Francisco. Then again, so had she.

“You were in the Star.” She studied his face, sucked in a breath when realization dawned. “Oh ... my ... God.”

Elroy glanced over her shoulder, then met her frightened gaze. “You riding with Garrett?”

She shook her head. “I’m alone.”

“Find that hard to believe. What are you doing in Gila Gulch?”

“I’m on my way to Phoenix.”

“To see your little girl?” He leaned in, voice low. “You’ve got my cousin all twisted up, Miss Simmons. If you want what’s best for Frankie, you’ll come with me.” She glanced at the rag doll clutched in his hands.

He could see her wheels turning, thinking her kid was in Phoenix, thinking Elroy wasn’t an immediate threat. “Brady sent two of his own men along with a couple of hired thugs to steal away the kid. Reckon you’re the only one who can talk him into making for the border without her. Reckon he’d do just about anything to be with you.” She licked dry lips, nodded. “Let’s go.”

“Hey, mister,” the shopkeeper said as they hastened to leave. “You owe me for that doll.”

“I’ll get it,” Kat said and slapped a half-eagle coin on the counter on their way out.

“You overpaid me,” the man called.

“Your lucky night,” she said, and Elroy prayed that applied to him, too.

Phoenix

They hadn’t been gone but ten minutes, but a miscreant with a plan and a gun didn’t need much time to wreak havoc. By the time London slammed through the door of his brother’s house, the damage had been done.

Parker lay at the bottom of the stairway, bleeding and unconscious.

Boston sailed up the stairs.

London tended Parker, wadding one of the women’s discarded shawls and pressing it to his wound. He saw his sister and Emily, but Kaila and Victoria were missing, along with the kids. He yelled up the stairs. “Boston!”

His brother yelled down. “They’re all right!”

Josh knelt next to his wife, checking for wounds as she moaned in agony. Emily held her hand and stroked her brow. “They didn’t hurt her,” she said, “but the shock ... I think the baby’s coming.”

“Three men,” Paris said in a stilted voice. “Mr. Parker shot one, but he . . . Then the other two . . . Ohhhh!” She clutched her stomach. “Josh!”

“I’m here, honey. Christ almighty, a man should be careful what he wishes for.” He glanced over his shoulder.

“How’s Parker?”

“Breathing,” London said. “But it’s bad. Took one in the gut. He needs a doctor.”

“Paris, too,” Emily said to Josh.

“I’m not leaving my wife.”

Paris slugged him in the arm. “Get the doctor. Please! No, wait. Don’t leave me, Josh!”

London glared. “Get the goddamned doctor, Grant.” Cursing, Josh bolted out the door as Kaila came running down the stairs, holding Zach’s hand.

Boston followed, holding a weeping Zoe in his arms. He averted her face as they passed Parker, then set her on the sofa.

The little girl sleeved away tears. “What’s wrong with Aunt Paris?”

“Nothing, sweetie,” said Kaila. “She’s having a baby. We need hot water,” she said, hurrying to the kitchen.

Zach tore away from her and neared London. “Is Mr. Parker okay?”

“He’ll be fine, Zach. Go sit with your sister.”

“I can help.” The boy knelt down and nudged away London’s hands, using his own to retain pressure. “You and Uncle Boston need to catch those men. One came through our window, Uncle London. I shoved Zoe under the bed, but I couldn’t help Frankie. It happened so fast. She was kicking up a fuss, though. Maybe she broke free.”

London’s stomach dropped. “Maybe so.” He squeezed his nephew’s small shoulder. “You did good, boy.” He glanced up the stairs and back to the parlor. “Where the hell’s Tori?”

Emily’s eyes overflowed. “They took her.”

London’s heart stopped. The world stopped. Time froze, and all he could see was
her
. All he could hear was
her
. He’d promised to keep his wife safe, and now . . .

“London.”

He blinked away Victoria’s haunted face and focused on Boston. His brother had pulled him to his feet.

“We’ll find her,” he said. “Both of them.” He squeezed London’s arm. “Frankie and I talked about a lot of things on our journey. One of them was tracking.”

Gila Gulch

Rome hadn’t aimed on stopping in Gila Gulch. He’d made an enemy out of Marshal Burke and that rancher, Gaffey. Last thing he needed was a delay when Phoenix was a spit and a holler away. But the spirited grey had gone lame, and Kat wasn’t feeling well. He needed another horse, and she needed some medicine. She assured him it was just nerves and exhaustion, and he believed her. Still, he wished he hadn’t allowed her to leave and visit the mercantile on her own while he bartered for a new horse at the livery. What if she fainted? Not to mention Brady was still unaccounted for. He’d slipped a pistol in her duster so she wouldn’t be without protection. He knew she’d use it if provoked. Still. . . The longer he was away from her, the more his gut clenched. “Shouldn’t have left her alone.”

His concern escalated when he reined his new mount in front of the mercantile. Where was Stargazer?

An old man was locking the store’s door. He turned and saw Rome. “I’m closed.”

“My wife. Came in to buy some medicine. Dark, curly hair. Split skirt, brown duster.”

“Didn’t buy no medicine. But she did overpay me for that man’s rag doll.”

Rome fisted his gloved hand. “What man?”

“Don’t know his name.”

“Can you describe him?”

He rattled off a brief description.

Not Brady, Rome thought with relief, but it could have been one of the gang.

“He was in here yesterday, too,” the merchant went on. “Him and another stranger stocked up on food and laudanum. Tonight he dawdled in the children’s section, looking at toys. Settled on the rag doll.” He flipped a gold coin in the air, caught it. “Like your wife said, my lucky night.”

Senses primed, Rome slid from the saddle. “Can I see that coin?”

“You gonna give it back?”

Rome offered him a ten-dollar gold piece, twice what the half-eagle was worth, monetarily anyway. “I’ll trade you.”

The man whistled, made the trade. “My lucky night, indeed.”

Rome palmed the half-eagle, his worst fear confirmed. Kat was in trouble. She wouldn’t part with her father’s lucky coin otherwise. This was her way of signaling him. “You say they left together?”

“Walked out together, yes.”

Rome indicated the street. “See which way they went?”

“Nope.” And with that the old man loped off.

Rome crouched and examined the dirt. He easily identified Stargazer’s tracks. He’d had those horseshoes especially made. He thanked God for the full moon rising. He needed all the light he could get. He swung into the saddle, settled into old ways. He’d earned a name tracking criminals. According to the dime novels, he and Boston were the best. “Strong and steady, sugar. Don’t worry. I’ll find you.”

Strong and steady
, Kat told herself as she followed Elroy through the desert. Gambler’s advice, compliments of her daddy. Advice she’d once shared with Rome. Funny how often that phrase applied to life in general.

As scared as she was, now was not the time to fall to pieces. Instead she kept replaying everything Rome had once told her about tracking. She knew he was the best. She trusted he would find her. Eventually She worried because it was dark, so she tried to leave clues when Elroy wasn’t paying attention. At first, she used the few coins she had in her pocket, dropping one in the sand every now and then. In the same way the sunlight had glinted off of McCree’s rifle in the canyon shoot-out, she hoped the coins would shimmer in the moonlight. When the coins ran out, she pulled a ribbon from her hair and draped it over the arm of a cactus. When they made a hard jog west, she pulled off her wedding ring and slipped it onto a fat thorn of a saguaro. Eye level, a shiny band twinkling in the moonlight.

Rome will see it
, she told herself.
Strong and steady
.

She also told herself that Brady’s henchmen would fail in their attempt to steal away Frankie because she was in Boston and London’s care, and like Rome, they were fierce protectors. She told herself that she’d be able to bamboozle Brady. She’d manipulate him with a wink and a smile. She’d lie through her teeth and make promises she had no intention of keeping. When it came to creating an illusion, once upon a time,
she’d
been the best. She’d distract him from Frankie. She’d buy Rome and the law time. She’d do what she’d set out to do in the first place. She’d condemn Brady to hell for eternity. Only then could she truly live.

Whatever it takes.

Elroy pulled his horse up short.

“Why are we stopping?” she asked, stomach churning.

“Look yonder,” he said, pointing due west. “See that flickering light?”

She squinted across the plain. “Yes.”

“That’s the adobe where Brady’s holed up. Itchy and Mule might still be out, but Boyd and Brady will be keeping watch. I’d ride in real slow-like if I was you, hands up. Might wanna announce yourself as you get close. Else-wise, they might shoot you.” He thrust the rag doll into her hands. “Take this just in case.”

In case of what?

“And here. Take these, too.” He draped his saddlebags over Stargazer’s rump.

“What’s in there?”

“Whiskey and laudanum. Jed’ll be real pissed if he don’t get his laudanum.”

Her stomach heaved. “Where are you going?” she asked, feeling a surge of panic when Elroy reined his horse south. It’s not like she trusted him, but she at least remembered him as being a decent sort.

“I don’t want no part of this. I’m real sorry, Miss Simmons, but I’ve eased my conscience by bringing you this far. I was worried about the kid. If Brady’s hired men did manage to snag her, I know you’ll protect her. Just remember,” he said. “Jed loves you.”

Kat managed to wait until he’d had ridden off and then leaned over and retched in the sand.

“I have to pee.”

“Again? What’s wrong with you, kid?”

Victoria also wondered about Frankie’s bladder. She supposed it was nerves. The poor thing had uttered that frank plea at least four times since they’d been snatched from Phoenix. Victoria refrained from comment because each time they stopped it slowed them down. That was a good thing. She believed with her whole heart that London and Boston would rescue them. She
had
to believe. She needed to be strong. For Frankie. For herself. She wasn’t ready to give up her new life. A life with London Garrett.

They’d been taken by three outlaws, only Mr. Parker had mortally wounded one of them. That left two. They wore masks and went by the names Smith and Jones. Victoria hadn’t recognized either one of from the train robbery, but that didn’t mean they weren’t part of Bulls-Eye Brady’s gang. Frankie was riding double with Smith. Victoria, who’d since been blindfolded, had the displeasure of doubling with Jones, a man who smelled as if he hadn’t bathed in a year.

“Oh, gosh,” Frankie squealed. “I think it’s coming out!”

“Dammit to hell,” Smith barked.

“Please, don’t curse in front of the child,” Victoria said.

“Why are we stopping again?” Jones complained. “Tell her to hold it in.”

“Easy for you to say. She ain’t sitting on your lap.”

“Look,” said Jones. “Here comes that Itchy fella.”

“Good. They’re his problem now.”

Victoria couldn’t see anything, but she could hear and smell and feel. She heard Smith and Frankie dismount. She felt Jones slide out of the saddle, then jerk her to the ground.

“I have to pee.”

“Then pee, dammit!” Smith bellowed. “Right there behind that bush.”

“Don’t watch.”

“I ain’t gonna watch, but if you run, kid, swear to God, I’ll shoot your mama.”

“Swearing to God isn’t nice,” Frankie told him.

“Pee!”

“And she’s not my mama,” she grumbled before shuffling off.

Victoria marveled at the girl’s spunk. She didn’t sound one bit frightened. How could that be? She heard a horse approach. Must be the Itchy person.

“Where have you been?” he complained. “I’ve been waiting at the designated ... Where’s Mule?

“Dead,” said Jones.

“Damn. Well, at least you got . . . Oh, no.”

She heard his boots hit the ground. It was all she could do not to quake. She recognized his voice. One of the train robbers. She heard him strike a match, felt the flame close to her face. “This ain’t Kat Simmons.”

Jones tugged at her hair. “What are you talking about? She fits the description, and she was with the kid all day.”

“Where is the brat?” asked Itchy.

“Taking care of business behind that bush.” Smith spit. “You sure this ain’t the right woman?”

Victoria felt the blindfold being pulled off. She braced herself for the shock, locked her knees when she did, indeed, recognize one of the gang members. She almost wished the moon weren’t full and shedding significant light. His toothless smile made her stomach turn.

“Another one of them damned coincidences. If this don’t beat all.” He leaned in close, looked down her décolletage. “You ain’t Kat, but Bulls-Eye’s gonna be happy to see you all the same.” He fingered her locket. ‘Yup. Real pleased.”

“Hey,” said Jones. “What’s taking the kid so long?”

Smith called, but she didn’t answer. He cursed, and Victoria closed her eyes and prayed.
Run, Frankie, run. Run fast and hide.

“No kid, no pay,” Itchy said.

“You go this way,” Smith said. “I’ll go over there.”

“Take the locket and give it to your boss,” Victoria told Itchy as the other two left. “It’s gold, as you can see. Maybe you’d want to keep it for yourself. Please, let Frankie and I go. We won’t tell--”