One More Sunrise (25 page)

He then put his attention on Tharyn in the backseat, who was looking at him with eager eyes. He moved up close to her. “Tharyn, could I hug you again?”

“Yes!” she replied with enthusiasm.

David and Kitty looked at each other furtively and smiled.

Dane leaned in and took Tharyn in his strong arms. She wrapped her own arms around him and they held on to each other for a long moment.

When the young couple released each other, Dane took a step back. “I’ll see you again soon, Tharyn.”

He bid David and Kitty good night, smiled at Tharyn, and headed toward the front door of the hospital. When he reached the door and opened it, he turned around and waved.

Tharyn and her parents waved back, and as they drove away, Kitty remarked, “What a fine, handsome young man he is.”

Tharyn sighed. “That he is, Mama. That he is.”

Tharyn lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling by the dim light that flowed through her bedroom window from a nearby street lamp.

“Thank You, Lord, for bringing Dane back into my life. Thank You for always knowing what is best for me. Just a short time ago I was so upset over Scott leaving me for his childhood sweetheart.”

She chuckled softly. “All the time, Lord, You knew that today, You would let Dane and me be reunited. Please forgive me for doubting, and help me to remember that in Your time, You do all things well.”

She lay there for several minutes, then knowing that sleep would be very elusive, she threw back the covers, picked up her warm robe and fleecy slippers from the small bench at the foot of the bed, put them on, and curled up in the soft overstuffed chair by the window.

Her mind wandered back to that terrible day when her parents and her aunt were killed, and the young lad who worked at the Clarkson Pharmacy bravely saved her life. A warmth stole over her as she relived the moment when Dane took her to the alley and gave her a home with the other street orphans. Dane was a hero to the others too, because he had become their protector.

Lying on his hard cot at Mile High Hospital, Dane was reliving those early days in the alley too, and thanking God for His goodness.

Every time he closed his eyes, willing sleep to come, a vision of beautiful Tharyn was there on the screen of his mind. No other girl had ever touched his heart like Tharyn did. It was so wonderful to see her, and to know she was all right. It was also comforting to know that she was not married.

As planned, the Tag Moran gang entered the bank in Vernal, Utah, and rode away, leaving one of the bank tellers lying dead on the floor. Though the gang members were disturbed that Tag had shot and killed the teller, they were elated to have so many stuffed money bags.

They were able to elude the posse that was quickly on their trail by using streams to cover their direction of escape.

Three days later, they robbed the bank in Evanston, Wyoming, and rode away with even more money than the Vernal robbery had yielded. Bart, Jason, Gib, and Tony were feeling queasy in their stomachs because Tag had shot down a customer in the Evanston bank who was pulling his gun in an attempt to stop them.

As Tag’s four men put their minds on the money they had garnered in the Evanston robbery, the queasiness soon left them.

At the Brockman home outside of Denver, John, Breanna, Paul, and Ginny were eating breakfast together on Monday, October 11, while John and Breanna were talking about Tharyn Tabor’s long-lost friend, Dr. Dane Logan, showing up in Denver a few days ago.

Breanna had worked at Mile High Hospital the day after Dr. Logan had done the hip replacement on Elsa Johnson, and had talked to Tharyn at church yesterday about Elsa. Tharyn had told her that Elsa was still doing quite well and would be going home in a few more days.

John swallowed a mouthful of pancake. “I’m glad to hear she’s doing so well. And let me tell you, honey, it’s a real blessing that young Dr. Logan is going to be taking over for Dr. Fraser. That poor old man is so tired. He desperately needs a rest. I’m sure he’s going to want to jump in and help Dr. Logan once in a
while, but he’ll get that much needed rest.”

“Yes,” said Breanna. “And believe me, from what I learned about Dr. Dane Logan, he’s going to be such a blessing in Central City
and
here at the hospital. Matt and Dr. Jess White are both singing his praises.”

“I’m glad.”

“And let me tell you, darling, I’ve never seen Tharyn so happy. She’s a walking sunbeam.”

John chuckled. “Maybe they’ll get past the brother-sister thing and something more serious will develop.”

Breanna smiled. “It wouldn’t surprise me.”

“Well, I’m looking forward to meeting this young Dr. Logan.” He picked up his coffee cup, drained the last few drops, and set it down. “Well, this federal lawman had better get to his office. Lots of work to do.”

That morning when John Brockman was at his desk in the U.S. marshal’s office, Deputy Charlie Wesson tapped on the door, opened it, and stuck his head in. “Chief, I have a telegram here for you from the Uintah County sheriff in Evanston, Wyoming.”

“Oh? Well, let’s see what it’s about. I’d sure be pleased if it’s to inform me that the Tag Moran gang pulled a bank robbery there, and Sheriff Billington and a posse had caught them.”

Wesson handed the chief the yellow envelope.

Brockman tore it open and began reading it silently. He frowned and stopped reading. “It’s about the Tag Moran gang, all right, but they didn’t catch them.”

“Oh,” said Wesson.

Brockman read on, and when he had finished it, he looked up at Wesson. “Charlie, the Moran gang robbed the bank in Vernal, Utah, five days ago, then three days ago, robbed the bank in Evanston. Tag shot a bank teller in Vernal and killed him. Then in
Evanston, Tag shot and killed a bank customer who tried to stop them. Sheriff Billington chased them with a posse but lost them. He thinks I should bring some deputies and see if we can track them down.”

“I’m all for it, Chief. You remember that I asked to be one of those deputies if it came to this.”

“Yes.”

“How about it?”

“You’re on. Let’s see, the deputies who are here in town right now are Tom Lewis, Steve Hagan, and Roger Thurston, right?”

“Right.”

“Okay, I’ll have Roger fill in for you here in the office, and Tom and Steve will go with us. I want you to wire Sheriff Billington that three deputies and I will leave by train today. I have a hunch that the Moran gang just might hit the bank in Green River next. Tell Billington we’ll let him know how it goes in Green River. Then wire Sheriff Mike Randall in Rock Springs and tell him what’s happened in Vernal and Evanston, and that we’ll be there tomorrow. We’ll rent horses in Rock Springs and be in the saddle to ride to Green River.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ll find Tom, Steve, and Roger and set things up. Then I’ll ride home and let Breanna know what I’m doing. We’ll take the next train to Cheyenne, which leaves in two hours. Then we’ll grab the next train out of Cheyenne heading west.”

“I can’t wait, Chief,” said Charlie, showing his teeth. “We’ve got to bring that gang to justice.”

I
n Rock Springs, Wyoming, Sweetwater County Sheriff Mike Randall sat behind his desk while the afternoon sun slanted through the office windows, and ran his gaze over the faces of his three deputies. “Yes, gentlemen, I fully believe the Moran gang will hit our bank next. I’m really glad that Chief U.S. Marshal John Brockman and his three deputies are coming. This could very well be the downfall of Tag Moran and his gang.”

“Have you met Chief Brockman in person, Sheriff?” asked Deputy Ross Allen.

“Yes. When he first arrived in Denver to become chief U.S. marshal, I happened to be there. I went to his office, introduced myself to him, and we had a nice chat. Of course, I had heard a great deal about him when he was traveling the West as the mysterious John Stranger.”

“Supposed to be faster’n greased lightning on the draw, isn’t he?” said Deputy Corey Rapp.

Randall grinned. “That’s putting it mildly. A lot of hotshot gunslingers have tried to outdraw him just to make a name for themselves. Most of them did make a name for themselves, all right—on tombstones or grave markers. A few lived through the ordeal, only because Brockman was able to put them down without
killing them.” He chuckled. “And the ones I know about who lived could never fast-draw again because Brockman purposely put a bullet in each one’s gun arm.”

“I’m really looking forward to meeting him, Sheriff,” said Deputy Rick Lampton. “I know a family up in Lander who was down and out financially, and John Stranger came to their rescue. Gave them—I forget now, how much—but gave them quite a sizeable amount of money.”

The sheriff started to comment, but his eye caught sight of four riders drawing up to the hitch rail outside the office. A grin split his face. “He’s here.”

Outside, as Chief U.S. Marshal John Brockman and his deputies were dismounting, they saw the sheriff and his deputies come out the door.

Brockman and Randall shook hands, then introductions were made and the lawmen shook hands all around.

As they were filing inside, Brockman was walking next to the sheriff. “Mike, have you heard anything about the Moran gang since I wired you yesterday? Do you know if they’re still in the area?”

“That they are, Chief. They robbed the bank in Green River about this time yesterday afternoon. Got away clean. I’ve got a powerful hunch that they’ll lay low for a few days, then hit our bank right here in Rock Springs.”

“I have the same powerful hunch, Mike. Let’s sit down with our deputies and devise us a plan.”

Two days later—Thursday, October 14—Tag Moran and his gang rode out of a tree-lined gully just west of Rock Springs and headed across the rolling prairie toward the town.

“Boys,” said Tag, “so far on this trip, we’ve done well for ourselves. We should have a pretty good haul at this bank too. Then
we’ll hightail it back into Colorado and find us a good place to hide for a few days. Once we’re sure the coast is clear, we’ll head back to the hideout.”

Soon they rode into Rock Springs and paused at Main Street, looking both ways.

Tony Chacone was first to spot the sign to their right a block away that read: Bank of Rock Springs. “There it is, Tag,” he said, pointing. “Okay, boys. Let’s go do it.”

As they rode up to the front of the bank, the clock on the sign told them it was ten minutes before three o’clock.

Bart Moran grinned. “Should be plenty of cash in the tellers’ drawers right now.”

“Not to mention what they’ve got stashed in the vault,” said Jason.

“Yeah,” Gib Tully said. “More in the kitty for our future life in California!”

As the five outlaws were dismounting, Tag said, “Okay, boys. I’ll lead in as usual and announce that we’re holding the place up. Do your stuff.”

Tag walked a couple steps ahead of the other four and ran his gaze around to see if anyone on the street was watching. He saw no one looking their way. He pulled his revolver from his holster just before he reached the door. The others drew their guns at the same time and followed their leader inside the bank.