Under a Falling Star (4 page)

CHAPTER SIX

A
lbert closed the door to room number fifteen and hurried down the narrow staircase of the El Dorado Hotel, stepping over a man who’d just plunked himself down on a step and fallen asleep, chin in hand.

Jessie Logan met him in the lobby at the foot of the stairs. “How’s everything going?”

Shane was asleep in her arms. The full impact of what had happened wouldn’t be felt until they laid all the deceased to rest in the cemetery by the church.

“As well as can be expected, I guess. Those three men were the last of ’em. Every room in town is filled, and I’m not just talking about the hotel and inn. There’s not an empty bed anywhere. I even have a fellow that will be sleeping in the front room of my small apartment above the jailhouse.”

“Don’t forget about our bunkhouse out at the ranch, as well as in the house, Albert. We could support five or six, if need be. I hope Chase let you know.”

“He did. Everyone I’ve dealt with prefers to stay in town, where they can check on each other and get the latest news on the train.”

“That’s understandable.” She sighed and shifted the sleeping child in her arms. The lobby behind Jessie was filled with children. Her daughter, Sarah, played ring-around-the-rosy with several other misses. The circle of girls erupted in laughter and fell to their knees, and boys dashed here and there. “I wouldn’t want to go too far if I were stranded in a strange town,” Jessie said, raising her voice to be heard over the children. She fondled the baby hair on Shane’s head.

“You look tired, Jessie. Now that we have the situation under control, the women will start picking up their young’uns and you can go home. Do you have a way to get there?”

She nodded, and laid her cheek against the toddler’s head. “When Gabe and Jake are finished rounding up the loose stock, they’re checking in here.”

“Good.”

“Did they find any of the missing passengers?”

He shook his head. “Not yet. Charlie, Chase, and a handful of others just returned for torches and lanterns so they can continue the search.” He glanced out the window into the evening shadows.

“How could this happen, Albert? The train tracks are so new.”

“I’d say the hellish amount of rainfall we’ve had the last few months loosened those boulders and they came down. I expressed my concerns to the Union Pacific when they were laying the tracks so close to the embankment.” He shook his head, remembering the animosity that had arisen from that meeting. “I was instantly shot down.”

One of the twenty-five children romping around the lobby let out a loud shriek. Jessie turned. “Boys, stop running!”

“We’re hungry,” a child he rarely saw in town whimpered. The boy dashed at the moisture in his eyes. “I want to go home. I want my ma.”

“Danny Hall, your ma is needed elsewhere right now,” Albert said, giving the boy a direct stare. “She’ll be here as soon as she can. Help Mrs. Logan with the younger children.”

Jessie smiled. “Thank you, Albert. They’ve been very good considering, but everyone’s getting tired. I know I am.”

Albert glanced through the door that connected the Silky Hen to the lobby of the hotel, now starting to thin out from its earlier crowd. “Everybody has their hands full, it seems.”

“Yes. Logan Meadows needs a lot of prayers. For the poor souls suffering and for the people who have lost a loved one. It won’t be easy.”

“You’re right about that, Jessie. You’re certainly right about that.”

“Doctor! You’re here,” Susanna gasped when Dr. Thorn came through the infirmary doors. He slammed into Dalton Babcock as her old acquaintance prepared to leave.

“Whoa, there.” Dalton clutched the doctor by his shoulders to keep him on his feet, then pushed his own dark hair back as he straightened his wide, strong-looking shoulders. Soot and blood soiled his expensive-looking shirt, the garment attesting he was doing well. If she remembered rightly, he’d been twenty-four when he’d left their hometown four years ago.

Susanna did the introductions, all the while praying Dalton wouldn’t let slip that they knew each other from before. The new beginning she’d built here in Logan Meadows—and loved so much—depended on no one knowing her past. She’d been judged plenty back home. Tainted by her mother’s repute, they’d said. Cut from the same cloth, they used to whisper.

“It’s fortunate you’re here then, Mr. Babcock,” Dr. Thorn said. “I need your assistance for a few minutes in setting a broken arm.”

Dalton glanced at the door. “I have a pressing obligation of my own.”

Dr. Thorn was resolute. “These women aren’t strong enough for what I need. I promise I won’t keep you long.”

Dalton’s gaze darted to Susanna. “Very well.”

“Susanna, give Miss Taylor as much of this as she can stomach,” Dr. Thorn said, pulling a bottle of whiskey from his leather bag. “Brenna, you and Mr. Babcock pull those two hat racks around and hang an extra blanket between them, so the others can’t watch. Her screams will be bad enough. Also gather the lanterns and bring them close.”

He started for the kitchen, but turned back when everyone just stood there. “Go on. I have many people who need tending.”

Brenna jumped into action with Dalton helping. Violet Hollyhock followed Susanna over to Julia’s cot. Taking the cup from Violet, Susanna splashed in a good three inches of the brown liquid, knelt, and lifted Julia’s shoulders. Mrs. Hollyhock stood on the other side of her cot.

“What’s that?”

“Just a little whiskey. To dull the pain.”

“I don’t drink.”

Mrs. Hollyhock reached out and ran a soft cloth over Julia’s perspiring forehead. “It’s all right, honey-pie. A little taste’ll do ya fine.” The statement wasn’t casually delivered, and a deep crinkle formed between the old woman’s eyes.

Susanna held the cup to Julia’s lips, and the girl took a tiny taste, but came up sputtering. “Ohh, I don’t like that! It burns.” She coughed, then cried out from the pain the jostling had caused her broken arm. Her face blanched. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Naw, honey, you’re not. This is jist one o’ those thing ya got t’get through whether ya want to or not. Take another sip for ol’ Mrs. Hollyhock.”

The girl’s lips quivered, then her eyes widened. “Still no chloroform?”

“I’m so sorry,” Susanna replied softly. “We must forge ahead without it so we won’t have to start over later. If your arm begins to heal like this, the doctor would have to rebreak it. I wish it weren’t so.”

Dr. Thorn, back from the kitchen, had his head together with Dalton, whispering. They came toward the bed.

“One more large gulp, Julia,” Susanna pleaded. “You can do it.”

To her credit, Miss Taylor grasped the cup with her good hand and guzzled down the entire cup, then proceeded to cough and hack for a long minute. She lay back and closed her eyes, her jaw set in a hard grimace.

Dr. Thorn waited, giving the whiskey time to get into her blood. Five minutes passed without a word from anyone. The doctor sat by her side, carefully unwound the sling, then studied her upper and lower arm for a long time. Susanna forced herself not to look away from the badly distorted, purple-colored limb.

When Dr. Thorn probed the fracture, Julia moaned but she didn’t open her eyes. He nodded to Dalton who was positioned at the girl’s shoulder.

“Miss Taylor, we’re ready to begin. I won’t lie to you. It’s going to hurt, but as soon as we align the bones, the pain will ease up some. The main fracture is down here, but there seems to be another smaller break between the elbow and your shoulder. We’ll get this done as quickly as we can.”

She didn’t make a peep, or open her eyes, but the rapid rise and fall of her chest spoke volumes. Susanna inched forward and picked up her other hand, stroking the top with her thumb.

“You’re to hold her shoulder as steady as you can, Mr. Babcock. I’ll do the pulling.”

The doctor gave one quick glance around. “All right, Miss Taylor, take a deep breath.”

From behind her head, Dalton took a firm hold of Julia’s shoulder. She screamed out in pain when Dr. Thorn slowly straightened her arm, increasing the force until Susanna thought she would faint and embarrass herself.

Julia never opened her eyes, but the shriek that came from her small frame was surprising. Mrs. Hollyhock plunked down into a chair, and shivers racked her frail body. Brenna huddled close by.

Dr. Thorn signaled Dalton, and they let up. Laying Julia’s arm across her chest, Dr. Thorn inspected their work. “Bring that lamp closer, Susanna. Hold it over Miss Taylor’s head.”

As she fetched the lantern, Susanna met Dalton’s familiar caramel-gold gaze.
He looked shaken and stalwart at the same time.
Dr. Thorn directed her aim. “Right there, so I can get a good look.”

The doctor’s adept fingers gently palpated Julia’s arm. Rising, he shook his head. “We’re not finished yet. She has a small bump here where the bones are not in exact alignment.” He pointed. “We can do better.”

A low moan issued from Julia’s mouth.

Dalton once again took hold. Dr. Thorn, with his own hold, pulled and manipulated. He lifted and slightly turned the girl’s arm. Perspiration slicked his brow.

Julia screamed, and then her head rolled to the side. Dr. Thorn stopped, held her wrist with one hand, and examined the length of her arm with the other. “Good. That’s all.” He looked around. “I’ll get a cast on this, and then we’ll see to the others. I don’t want Miss Taylor out of bed for a good five days. After about Wednesday, most her pain will be gone, and the bones will have a good start on knitting together. After that, she should be good to do just about anything she feels comfortable with.”

He extended his hand to Dalton. “Thank you. It would’ve been much more difficult to get that set correctly without your help.”

Anxiety ricocheted through Susanna’s chest. It was as if she could hear his response before he opened his mouth.

“You’re welcome, Doctor. I’m glad I was able to assist you. Any friend of Susanna’s is a friend of mine. We’re from the same small town in Colorado.” He tossed her a fond look. “Isn’t that something? It’s a small world, to be sure.”

She had no choice but to smile and nod, feeling as if quicksand were pulling her under. Only when silence filled the room did she realize they were waiting for her to respond. “That’s absolutely correct,” she said, forcing a smile and a shrug. “Dalton and I go way back. A very small world, I’d say.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

D
alton strode away from the infirmary, focused on his next task. He needed to get into the train car he’d been guarding, but how, he couldn’t fathom. The car had been constructed to thwart potential break-ins. A moment of wonder made him glance back, still unbelieving he’d run into Susanna so far from Breckenridge.

His last memory was of her eyes filled with shimmery tears as she walked away from the mercantile. His sister and a friend had been teasing her again, until he’d come and put a stop to it. With a defiant tilt to her chin, Susanna had told Eloisa just what she thought of her haughtiness, then she’d turned away, but not before he’d seen her face crumble. He’d wanted to tell her he’d gotten a job with Wells Fargo and would be leaving, but lost his nerve. His attraction to her had always been one-sided.

Maybe destiny had just given him another chance.

A disgruntled shout in the distance jerked him back to the present. What had happened to Pat Tackly? He’d sure like to know. The head guard had hired Dalton the day before the shipment of cash was scheduled to leave. Somehow, Pat’s third man had gotten himself killed just hours before, and Pat needed another fellow good with a gun. Being Dalton had ridden guard for Wells Fargo for several years, he fit the bill. Dalton, pleased at the opportunity that had landed in his lap, had thought it over for a whole two minutes before accepting. The job paid more money in one month than his yearly salary riding guard on the Wells Fargo stage, and then some. Enough to send half back to his folks to help on the ranch. That was a pretty darn good return on his time.

Dalton strode down the alley beside the hotel, and stepped up onto the boardwalk. The sun had set, but all the buildings of Logan Meadows were alive with lights and townsfolk.

With the train a good half mile from town, he needed a wagon and tools. But most of all he needed trustworthy men. He passed by the saloon. A skinny fellow at the piano tapped out a tune with one finger as the bartender poured drinks to a full bar. Looked like things were picking up now that most people were settled. He halted in front of the sheriff’s office. He was under no obligation to inform the sheriff of his cargo, but he did have an obligation to protect the money. His best opportunity for help resided inside.

He took hold of the brass doorknob and stepped through the door. A large wolf-like dog lying in front of a potbellied stove lifted his head, looked him over, then lay back down. The sheriff sat at his desk, writing. He appeared none too pleased by the interruption.

“Yes?” The tone was curt.

“I’m a guard employed by the First Bank of Denver. I need some help.”

“You and a hundred others.”

“That may be so, but in my case time is of the essence. I need tools and manpower to break into a specially built train car that’s bolted closed from the inside.”

The lawman set his pencil down. “You helped with the big fellow today, isn’t that right?”

“It is.” Dalton put out his hand. “Dalton Babcock from Denver, Colorado.” He extracted his officially stamped letter, stating he was an employee of the bank with authority over their cargo.

The sheriff grasped his hand. “Albert Preston. Why’s it so darn important to break in? Can’t whatever’s inside stay locked up?”

“It’s a guard who’s not responding—if he were, he’d be able to open the door. I’d like to get him some help as soon as possible, in case he’s still alive.”

The sheriff nodded, understanding washing over his face.

“And there’s also the small matter of a million dollars cash.” Sheriff Preston gave a loud whistle and his eyebrows arched. “The longer it remains unprotected, the more enticing the treasure becomes. I saw your bank on the way over. It secure? I believe locking the money up there is the best option until management from Denver can arrange transport.”

“Nobody’s getting into Frank’s vault unless he opens it. I’ve never seen the like.”

“And it’s large enough for that amount of money?”

“It’s half the size of his back room—a joke until now when we need it.”

“Good.” Dalton glanced out to the dark street. “The other two guards and myself have been closed mouthed about the cargo, but information like that has a way of getting out. Somebody had to pack it and schedule its transport. People know it’s en route. I’d like to get out to the abandoned train as soon as possible.” He directed his gaze back to the lawman. “The head guard was on the roof when the train hit and is still among the missing.”

The lawman stood. “Let’s get moving then. I’ll find you a horse and ride out with you. I have some fellas out there now searching for anyone who was thrown from the train on impact. They’re my right-hand men. I’d trust any of them with my life.”

“With a million dollars?”

“You bet.” Sheriff Preston went to the gun rack, pulled out two rifles, and handed one to Dalton. He filled a saddlebag with bullets then headed for the door. “Let’s go see what we got.”

It took less than five minutes to lope to Three Pines Turn. The stars were bright in the sky. None of the men Albert had sent out, including Chase Logan and Charlie Axelrose, were close by. The engine, the only car off the track, sat kitty-corner and a bit tilted behind a pileup of large boulders. It was a horrific sight, even the second time around. He and Babcock rode silently down the side of the eerily quiet train toward the money car.

Albert pointed to several torches that shined like fireflies in the distance. “The searchers. The engineer hit the brakes when he came around the corner and saw the pileup directly before him, but couldn’t stop completely. With the length of the train, survivors could be as far back as a quarter mile.” He pulled out his sidearm and squeezed off a shot into the air to signal the others over.

Babcock reined up before a dark train car.

“This it?” Albert asked, glancing around.

Babcock nodded, then dismounted. He strode over to the train and pounded on the side of the car. “Evan, can you hear me?” he shouted. He pounded some more. “Evan, knock on the side, or the floor, if you can’t talk.” After a moment, he looked back over his shoulder. “Nothing.”

Babcock’s face was a mask set in stone. Death was never easy.

Albert dismounted and dropped one rein to the ground. He made his way to the side of the train and met Chase, Charlie, and a few others as they rode up. “You find any bodies?” Albert asked.

“Two. The undertaker’s been out already and hauled them away,” Chase Logan said, still sitting his horse.

Babcock straightened. “Either of them big, over two hundred and fifty pounds?”

Chase shook his head. He glanced at Albert and asked, “Whatta we have here?”

“Chase, Charlie, I need your help. The rest of you can go back to town and see what needs doing. If there isn’t anything, go home and get some sleep. There’ll be plenty to do for days to come.”

Three men nodded and rode off.

“You’re sounding awfully mysterious, Albert,” Chase said, the stock end of the burning torch resting on his thigh. He looked Babcock over with a discerning eye. “The way you dismissed the others, I’d say you’re about to share something interesting.”

“You know me too well, Chase. We need to break into this train car, but not until morning.”

Babcock took a step toward him. “We need to get inside now! By morning Evan could be dead.”

Albert ignored the man’s sharp tone. “I’m not risking the necks of these live men for someone who’s most likely dead already. The only way in would be through the air vents on top, and that may even be a bust. Working with heavy tools in the dark is not worth the risk. That’s my decision. We’ll begin at first light.”

Babcock cut his gaze away, clearly unhappy with the turn of events.

“Chase, I’d like you and Charlie to stay here and help stand guard until morning. Can you do that? Thom Donovan will relieve one of you after midnight, when he gets back from New Meringue, and I’ll do the same at one. Right now, I need to get back to Logan Meadows and keep an eye on the town. Whiskey’s flowing easy in the saloon.”

He strode over to the men and handed over his rifle.

Charlie’s brows lifted in speculation. “What’s inside? Seems if we’re risking our necks, we have a right to know. Can’t just be a dead body.”

“What I’m going to tell you goes no further. Mr. Babcock works for a bank in Denver and is moving some cash. One million dollars to be exact. One of their guards was thrown off the roof, and the other is locked inside, either dead or unconscious. After we get in, we’ll transport the money to the bank until arrangements can be made to get it on its way.”

Chase looked none too pleased. “What about our families? Jessie’s still in town.”

“I just spoke with her a little while ago. She said Gabe and Jake plan to take her, Sarah, and Shane home after the children she’s watching have been picked up. What about you, Charlie? Where’s Nell?”

“Helping out at the Red Rooster Inn. She has Maddie with her.”

“If you’re both agreeable, I’ll stop by and let both your wives know you won’t be home until sometime after midnight. I’ll make sure Nell and Maddie have an escort home, and I’ll send you out some grub.”

The crickets were his only response.

“Guarding someone else’s
money
don’t sit well with me, especially when there’re people in town who need tending, and a worn-out wife to look after.” Chase’s tone spoke to his displeasure.

“Everyone who needs tending has been taken care of, Chase. This is where I need you now. But, just say the word and I can find someone else. We’ll begin work at first light.”

Chase shifted in his saddle as he swiveled to look at Charlie. Charlie nodded. Babcock looked back and forth as the men talked, a frustrated expression on his face.

“Fine, Albert, we’re in. You got yourself some guards.”