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Authors: Eugenia Riley

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Chapter Thirty-eight

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When Molly tore inside the jail with Lucky and Cory,
she was horrified to see her worst fears confirmed. In
the outer office stood her three older brothers, along
with Ma, Pa and Grandma. Everyone seemed to be
talking at once, gesturing angrily at Sheriff Hackett.

“Oh, no!” she cried to her brothers. “Are you boys re
ally responsible for all those robberies?”

All at once the room grew deadly silent as the others
turned to regard the three newcomers.

“No, no!” Zach denied. He frowned at Cory. “Didn’t you tell her?”

Cory shook his head. “I wanted her and Lucky to see
this for themselves.”

“See what? Is it the Hicks boys?” Molly demanded.

None of Molly’s brothers answered her.

Lucky addressed the sheriff. “Sheriff Hackett, what’s
going on here? Cory said you caught the outlaw gang.”

“Sure did. You all want to see ‘em?”

“You bet!” cried Molly.

“Lead the way,” added Lucky.

The sheriff escorted the group through a passage
way into the cell area. Molly was fully expecting to see
the five Hicks cousins locked up there, and her jaw
dropped at what she actually witnessed in the first cu
bicle. “My God!”

“Well, I’ll be damned!” declared Lucky.

Molly stared at the group in the cell, still not quite
able to believe her eyes. For there sat a scowling Ezra
Trumble, along with his four very abashed daughters.
All five were dressed in the black costumes of male outlaws;
the women had their hair pinned up under their hats.

“The
Trumbles
were the ones committing these
crimes?” Molly asked in disbelief.

Hackett self-importantly hitched up his britches.
“Yep. I never would have believed it myself—espe
cially that females would go outlaw like this.”

Molly waved him off. “Oh, Sheriff, hush up. Women
can do anything.”

As Lucky flashed his wife a forbearing glance, Hack
ett forged on. “Anyhow, ma’am, I hid a posse out near
Dillyville this morning and caught ‘em all red-handed
when they robbed the stage.” He gestured toward Trum
ble. “And that ain’t the half of it, neither.”

“Yes?” Molly asked tensely. “You mean there’s more?”

The sheriff nodded grimly. “Yep. Folks, meet Dirty
Dutch Dempsey.”

“What?” cried Lucky, staring at Trumble wide-eyed.
“Mr. Trumble is Dirty Dutch Dempsey?”

“But you’re dead!” accused Molly.

Ezra harrumphed, then glared back. “To paraphrase
Mr. Twain, the rumors of my passing are greatly exag
gerated.”

“My God, I can’t believe this,” Molly muttered.

“It’s true, folks,” the sheriff confirmed. “Ez really is
Dutch, and his daughters there is his gang.”

“Well, I’ll be hanged,” Lucky muttered.

“Ez is one sly fox,” the sheriff went on. “He’s been livin’ here under an alias for several years now. Had all of us hoodwinked—until his daughters gave him up af
ter we arrested the lot of them.”

Lucky turned to the daughters. “But why were you
women involved?”

Sally popped up. “It wasn’t our idea a’tall!”

Nelly stood next. “Yeah, Pa forced us to help him rob
all them folks.”

“We tried to say no, but he beat us!” wailed Bonnie.

Trumble rolled his eyes.

“How horrible!” declared Molly. “Your father de
serves to be horsewhipped.” She glanced at her broth
ers. “But why are you boys here?”

“We’ve been trying to convince the sheriff to let the
girls go,” explained Cory. “Clearly their father is the re
sponsible party.”

“Yeah, you got some nerve, Ez Trumble, accusing my
grandsons of your own crimes,” scolded Grandma. To Hackett, she added fiercely, “You should hang him by
his scrawny neck without benefit of a trial.”

Trumble glowered back while his daughters gasped
in fear.

“Settle down, Grandma,” Cory admonished.

“Why did you do it, Mr. Trumble?” Lucky asked. “You
were here, you were a part of this community. You had everyone
fooled as to your real identity. Why not just live out
your final years in peace?”

He sneered. “What has this town ever done for me?”

“Well, shame on you,” Lucky chided. “And how des
picable of you to involve your daughters against their
will, and risk their lives, as well. Sheriff, you know Cory
is right. You shouldn’t hold these young ladies accountable.”

“That may be so,” conceded Hackett, “but as I was
just telling your folks and grandma, that’ll be up to the
circuit judge.”

“But can’t you let ‘em go until he next comes
through?” pleaded Matt.

Hackett scratched his jaw. “Well, maybe if someone
will vouch for them—”

“Jessica and I will be delighted to supervise the
girls,” put in Cole.

The girls chortled in delight.

“Hell, us boys’ll marry them!” declared Vance, prompting more grins from both the men and women.

“Well, I guess if they have proper husbands to keep ‘em in line . . .” Hackett muttered. “I mean, I have been kind of hard on you boys, seein’s how you weren’t the
real bushwhackers.”

“Yeah. You owe this family a big favor, Hiram—and
an apology,” chided Grandma.

“Very well. I’ll release the girls into the custody of
the Reklaws.” Hiram shook a finger at Trumble. “But I’m
recommending the judge sentence you to a good spell
in the calaboose, Ez—that is, Dutch.”

“Hell, lock him up and throw away the key,” pro
nounced Grandma.

As Dutch growled at Eula, Hackett opened the cell,
and the four girls rushed into the arms of their sweet
hearts.

“Lawdy, lawdy!” Eula laughed. “We’ll be having
us a quadruple wedding any day now.”

Molly felt compelled to speak up.

Um, boys, before
you start rushing to the altar, I think it’s only fair to tell
you that Lucky and I have kind of jumped the gun on
winning that contest.” She grinned at Lucky, and he
proudly wrapped his arm around her waist.

“You’re expecting, Molly?” asked her mother excitedly.

She nodded happily.

“Oh, darling, that’s wonderful.” Jessica hugged them
both.

“Yes, that’s splendid news, children,” pronounced
Cole, following suit.

“Congratulations, Molly,” added Cory. “And as far as
the contest goes, it doesn’t matter.” He beamed at Ida
May. “We’re all in love.”

“Yeah, in love,” added a grinning Zach as he kissed
Sally.

***

While the others chattered away happily, Cory drew
Ida May aside and the two shared a long, tender kiss.
He was so delighted that things were finally resolved
and the girls were safe, their futures secure.

“Are you all right, honey?” he asked raggedly.

She hugged him ecstatically. “Oh, yes, especially
now that you’re here! Thanks for helping to make
things right, Cory.”

He shook his head wonderingly. “Dirty Dutch
Dempsey. No wonder your pa was always so standoffish. He couldn’t risk allowing anyone here in Mariposa
to get close enough to learn the truth about him.”

“Did you ever suspect it?”

He smiled guiltily. “Actually, for the last week or so,
I’ve known—at least, I’ve known your father was an outlaw—and so have my brothers.”

Her eyes went wide. “You’ve known?”

“You see, I watched three of you rob the
Colorado
City
stage, then followed you home.”

“You saw all that—and didn’t turn us in?” she
gasped.

“Of course not, honey. My brothers and I had hoped
to find a way to stop the robberies on our own. That’s
why I tried to speak with you at the Wild West show.”

She bit her lip, then confided, “Cory, I want you to
know that I didn’t rob that stage, or any other. Bonnie and I were always the
lookouts. It was Pa, Sally and Nelly who did the dirty
work.”

“I know. But it doesn’t matter—especially not since
he forced you girls to participate.”

She glanced away guiltily. “Well, I’ve a confession to
make about that, too.”

“Yes?”

In a confidential whisper, she admitted, “My older sisters enjoyed playing outlaw a lot more than they’re
letting on.”

He chuckled. “Oh, yeah, I kind of figured that one
out, too.”

“You did?”

“Well, when they grabbed up all those dime novels
at the library, I guessed they were a pretty bloodthirsty
lot. And that was quite a hint, too, when Sally admitted relishing the fictional account of Dirty Dutch Dempsey
getting gut-shot in
Denver
. The amazing thing is, she
was talking about her own father! Only I didn’t see it at
the time.”

She nodded.

I just hope my sisters will follow the
straight and narrow path now.”


Oh, I wouldn’t worry there. If they played outlaw, I
think it was only as an outlet for their resentment to
ward your pa. With him out of the picture, they’ll settle
down. Besides, they’ll be good matches for my broth
ers—who are also on the spirited side, in case you
hadn’t noticed.”

“Oh, I’ve noticed.” She glowed with pleasure. “Thank
you again for everything you did.”

“You think I’d want my future bride in jail?” he teased
back. “Besides, I can’t wait to hear all about the ex
ploits of Dirty Dutch Dempsey—like how he managed
to acquire four daughters, and why he moved here to
Mariposa.”

“Oh, I’ve got lots of tall tales to share with you,” she
rejoined.

***

Two weeks later Molly sat with her husband in the
front pew of the church. She squeezed Lucky’s hand
and the two of them exchanged a quiet smile. Before
them stood Molly’s four brothers and their four beauti
ful brides, listening to Reverend Bledsoe’s marriage
sermon. The rest of the Reklaw family looked on
raptly. Absent, of course, was Ezra Trumble, father of
the brides; although the circuit judge had absolved
the Trumble girls of criminal liability in the robberies, old Dutch would
be spending the rest of his golden years in the state
penitentiary.
With her wonderful husband beside her, Molly had
never felt happier. Time, and Lila Lullaby’s stagecoach,
had brought her the true hero of her dreams. Even bet
ter, she knew Lucky loved her now, and she loved him;
he was hers forever. Soon they’d have a beautiful child
to further brighten their lives. She felt intensely grateful
and only hoped her brothers might know a fraction of
the joy she felt.

***

Next to Molly, Lucky, too, had never felt happier, after
finding the woman, and the time, of his dreams. He
found it particularly appropriate when Reverend Bledsoe turned to the Beatitudes as part of his wedding ora
tion. With a poignant smile he heard, “‘Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.’”

This had been a humbling experience for him, all
right, as well as an enthralling one. He’d regained his
faith and found the love of his life, a woman who
equaled him in every way. He had so much to be grate
ful for—love, trust, a solid marriage, a family on its
way, a future to look forward to.

As the couples began repeating their vows at the
parson’s urging, Lucky squeezed his bride’s hand and
gazed into her eyes, seeing his own smile reflected
there. The contest that had put him and Molly at odds
had made them both winners in the end, and he was intensely thankful for the shared destiny that had
bonded them together in love.

BOOK: Bushedwhacked Groom
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