The Law and Miss Penny (38 page)

"You have absolutely no rights where I'm concerned." Mariah finally met his gaze, and finding at least a hint of concern in it, told him what happened. "Being dragged forcibly from my room at midnight wasn't, in any way, pleasant. Tubbs made me get dressed in front of him, and he did think about... about getting to know me a little better, but he was too afraid to do anything about it in case you came by to visit me. I guess he didn't want to take the chance of being caught in the act."

Morgan ground his teeth. "And when he took you to the hotel with his friend Cletus?"

She shrugged, far more concerned about her current plight. "I'm just glad you and Artemis came by when you did. They were talking about killing us. Why?"

"Because I'm a United States marshal, and those men are part of the Doolittle Gang. You, I'm afraid, had the misfortune of getting caught in the middle."

"The Doolittle Gang. But what about Artemis? Why is he with them, and why did you arrest him?"

"Artemis"—Morgan leaned as far forward in the seat as the rope would allow—"is a Doolittle."

She gasped. "But, but how is that possible? He's such a nice young man, and so, I don't know, polite."

"Whatever else he may be, Artemis is also the fox you hired to guard the henhouse, if my splotchy memory serves me correctly. You did put him in charge of keeping me from being killed by the Doolittle Gang while I still thought my name was Cain Law, did you not?"

"Oh, my God." Mariah recalled the day in the Durango sheriff's office, remembering particularly how nervous Artemis had been at the time, at how flustered he got when she mentioned the name Doolittle. The gang must have been tracking Cain's every move even then. "Oh, my God."

"Shush." Morgan glanced toward the door. "Lucky for us, your instincts weren't entirely—"

The door to the compartment opened, and Morgan quickly sat back against the bench seat, motioning for Mariah to do the same.

"You folks okay in here?" Artemis asked as he stuck his head inside the room. "I, ah, I'm supposed to stand right outside your door, and keep an eye on you for a spell."

Morgan canted his head, calling the fox into the henhouse as he whispered, "Are you alone?"

His eyes huge, Artemis checked both ends of the car. "Ah, yes, sir."

"Get in here, quick."

Artemis slipped inside the room and closed the door. "Ah, is your, ah, esthesia all gone, sir?"

"I never had amnesia." He slid down the bench to make room for the young man, pressing Mariah's legs against the outside wall of the car in the process. "Sit down, son."

"Yes, sir."

As Artemis sank down beside him, Morgan explained. "I've been pretending that I couldn't remember anything so I can get the drop on them a little easier. Understand that you've got to keep this information to yourself. Remember your oath?"

"Right. My sworn oath as your number one deputy."

"That's right, and now we have work to do." Morgan offered his back to Artemis. "Untie me."

Mariah, her mouth agog, shot Cain a look suggesting he'd gone mad. "Didn't you just tell me that Artemis is, you know, one of the, ah..."

Morgan smiled. "I deputized Artemis before we came looking for you. He wants to see these cutthroats brought to justice as much as I do."

"That's right, Miss Mariah," said Artemis, untying Morgan's arms. "I'm an honest-to-God deputy for the United States Marshal's Office. Cain made me one last night."

Incredulous, Mariah rolled her eyes and sank back against the bench seat.

Morgan, his hands now freed by Artemis, didn't notice her reaction or correct the young man on the use of his bogus name. He quickly untied his feet, and then rewrapped them, making it look as if he were still bound.

Then he reached down and did the same for Mariah, continuing to explain as he worked. "The gang is planning to rob the train a few miles down the road. They intend to blow up the tracks near Needle Creek to stop the train, but before that, somewhere between there and Elk Park, they plan to throw you and me over the side."

Mariah shuddered as she recalled the jagged face of the mountainside, the sheer drop to the canyon so far below. She held out her wrists, and as Cain untied them, she said, "What are we going to do? It's not like we can run away or anything."

"I'm working on it."

Artemis, who'd gotten up on his own to go check the aisle again, ducked back inside the room. "It's still clear out there."

Finished with Mariah's bonds, Morgan sat back in his seat and tried to look as if he were still a helpless captive. Then he asked his deputy, "Is there any way you can talk Tubbs or Cletus out of a gun?"

So proud of himself he thought he might burst, the youngest Doolittle flipped open his coat to reveal Morgan's huge peacemaker buried in the waistband of his trousers. "I asked Tubbs to give it to me in case of an emergency, and he did."

Chuckling softly, Morgan held out his hand. "I'd say we definitely have us an emergency of the highest order, Deputy."

After Artemis dropped the weapon onto his palm, Morgan checked the cylinder to make sure the Colt was still loaded. Then he slid the gun between his thigh and the wall of the train, and rewrapped his wrists. "Where's Cletus?"

"Last time I saw him, he was stretched out in the parlor car."

"And Tubbs?"

"He went up to check on the guards at the express car, where they got the gold."

"In that case, why don't we take care of Cletus first." Double-checking both himself and Mariah to make certain they looked as incapacitated as before, he nodded to Artemis. "We're ready. Go tell Cletus that Mariah's taken sick and you don't know what to do with her. Tell him to hurry."

"Yes, sir." He saluted, then ran out the door.

Looking back at Mariah, Morgan said, "It's going to get dangerous and maybe even a little messy in here pretty quick. The second I go for my gun, you drop to the floor and cover your head. Understand?"

"But I want to help. I have to do something."

"Just do what I said—and Mariah..." He hesitated, not sure how to say what he was feeling, not even certain what he was feeling, only knowing that he couldn't let things end this way. "If something happens to me, if I should—"

"No, don't say it," she warned, a sudden image of his blond wife coming to her mind. "Don't tell me anything you wouldn't have if we weren't in this predicament."

But Morgan wouldn't be put off. He had something to say, and by God, he was going to say it. "I have to let you know that, well... I forgive you."

"You forgive me?" Mariah's temper flared, sending her fears for her safety up in smoke. "For what, you arrogant bastard? For showing you how to live like a real human being for a few weeks, for caring about you? We ought to charge you for the privilege of having—"

The doorknob turned, and Morgan cut her off. "Put your head between your knees, and keep your eye on my gun" was all he managed to whisper before Cletus walked into the room.

"We got trouble in here?" the outlaw said as he leaned over to take a look at Mariah.

"Like you wouldn't believe." Morgan swung the Colt up to fit the barrel against the man's temple. The gun's hammer clicked back one notch at a time as he softly said, "Now straighten up, real slow." Rising along with Cletus, whose intense blue eyes had paled with fear, Morgan relieved him of his pistol. Then he dropped the firearm to the floor beside Mariah, and surprised the outlaw with a vicious left uppercut.

Cletus staggered back to the door and stood there wavering for several long seconds, his legs unaware of the fact that he was unconscious. Then, finally, he slid to the floor.

Morgan quickly bound him with the ropes he'd removed from himself, then used Cletus's handkerchief to gag him before dragging him up to where Mariah had been sitting. After stretching him out on the bench, Morgan turned to find Mariah standing by the door. She was helping Artemis to keep a watch on the aisle, despite Morgan's instructions to stay on the floor.

"Next time I tell you to do something, you do it," he said, his voice gruff.

"Or what?" The set of her chin and look in her eye held more challenge than question. "Maybe you'd like to knock me down and tie me up, too, is that it? Why don't you just shoot me and get it over with."

Morgan took two short strides and caught her by the shoulders. "Damn you, Mariah. Now is not the time for this, understand?"

She shrugged out of his grip with a haughty toss of her head. "There will never be a time for this again, Marshal Slater. Either arrest me now, or leave me alone."

His green eyes glittered with rage and something else—a heightened sense of awareness, of what he'd had and what he'd lost—but Morgan didn't have the time to sort through it or figure it out. Not now, with another outlaw loose on the train. He did the only thing that he could do: He lifted Mariah off of her feet, swung her around in a half-circle, and set her on the bench across from Cletus.

"You may consider yourself under arrest, Miss Penny. From here on out you are under my orders, and you will do as I say."

Mariah was speechless. Never had either Cain or Morgan spoken to her in such a manner, and never had she experienced such a strange reaction to him, this feeling of being both threatened and cherished. As she stared up at him, her chin trembling, her gaze locked into his, the door to the compartment burst open and Artemis stuck his head inside.

"Marshal. It's Tubbs, and he's a-coming this way, fast."

Morgan jerked Mariah off the seat and pushed her down to the floor. "Roll under the bench. And stay there." Then he turned back to the door and leveled the peacemaker toward the opening, just as the outlaw stepped into the compartment.

Spotting the barrel of the Colt immediately, Tubbs went into a crouch.

"Don't try it," Morgan warned as the man reached for his gun. "Put your hands on your head."

Tubbs froze, and then slowly raised his arms. Speaking to Artemis over his shoulder, he said, "Don't just stand there, kid. Shoot the son of a bitch."

Offering the young man the ultimate expression of trust, Morgan never even looked at Artemis. He simply smiled at Tubbs and said, "I wasn't aware you were acquainted with my deputy."

The outlaw's features tensed. "Your...
what?"

"Meet Artemis Doolittle, special deputy for the United States Marshal's Office."

Artemis puffed up his chest, straining the seams of his shirt, and elbowed Tubbs in the back. "That'd be me. Now put your hands on your head like the marshal says."

His gaze darting to every corner of the compartment, Tubbs continued to raise his arms. As the train rounded a sharp bend, Cletus rolled off the seat and fell to the floor with a thud, his limp body trapping Mariah in the narrow little hiding space behind him. In her sudden terror, she screamed.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Tubbs went for his gun. He drew his pistol, but didn't quite find the time he needed to fire it. A bullet from Morgan's peacemaker slammed into his chest, driving him through the open door and flattening him against the wall across the aisle. He looked down at the crimson hole in his shirt as if to say, "Well, imagine that." Then he pitched forward, dead before he hit the floor at Deputy Doolittle's feet.

* * *

The death of gang member Tubbs didn't go unnoticed by the other passengers on the train. The female occupant of a nearby compartment opened her door, saw the dead man in the aisle, and screamed. The conductor was none too pleased about the goings-on either.

After several long, tense moments of testimony by Morgan, Artemis, and Mariah, the conductor finally accepted the fact that Morgan was indeed the real U.S. marshal, and that trouble lay just ahead on the tracks. He notified the brakeman to slow down, as the train was rapidly nearing the Needle Creek area, and then left the logistics of capturing the Doolittle Gang up to the marshal.

Tubbs was temporarily "interred" in an empty compartment, his shroud the sheepskin jacket Morgan no longer cared to own. Figuring it would be best for the time being to leave Cletus where he was, Morgan secured his bonds and then lashed him to the bench seat, wrapping the rope around him several times over like a spider rolling up a fly. When he was certain the outlaw would be incapable of causing any more trouble, he approached Artemis with an idea for bringing the rest of the gang in—alive, if possible.

Morgan leaned against the door, his gaze skimming Mariah's tense features before settling on Artemis. "We'll be at Needle Creek soon."

Artemis nodded. "Yes, sir."

"You've done a real fine job as my deputy so far. I want you to know that."

Artemis's troubled brown eyes lit up. "Thank you, sir."

"I also want you to know that if you decide to back out now, I'll understand. I can't expect you to take part in the capture of your own brother, especially since there's a good chance he could wind up like Tubbs."

Artemis cringed, and beside him, Mariah bristled. She said, "You sound as if you're going to ask him to do it anyway."

Morgan could hardly argue the fact, since it looked as if using Artemis might be the only way to surprise the rest of the gang. "I am," he said, careful not to meet her gaze. "But he has every right to decline."