Fair Is the Rose (18 page)

Macaulay shook his head, thoroughly disgusted. Rol-lins's laughter echoed down the mountain. The three men left with the yellow light of their lantern glinting wickedly off their silver star-shaped badges. Each engraved:
U.S. Marshal.

Christal listened to the men snore, her heart hammering in her chest while she struggled to untie her hands. Daylight would come soon, and Kineson would find Cain gone; she would be totally at his mercy if she couldn't free herself. She took a deep breath,
then
tried the knot again, cursing the darkness that blinded her.

She tried hard not to think of Cain. He'd taken his escape, and that was all there was to it. After all, he'd done more than could be expected to help them. He deserved to survive. But no matter how she rationalized it, she found it difficult to accept his abandonment. He'd left her alone, without any protection. And he'd left with more than fear. No matter how much it angered her, she realized she must have begun to care for him; there was no other reason for the lump of hurt in her chest. She knew if she survived the kidnapping, the fear would diminish. But she'd never forget the soul-wrenching emotion that clutched at her heart when Macaulay Cain disappeared into the night.

"Damn," she said underneath her breath, unable to see the knot. Her fingers twisted in every unnatural position, but she couldn't get it loose. Finally she used her teeth to pull on it, but the knot was as immovable as stone. She sat back, despair crashing over her like a wave.

Then a hand covered her mouth.

Terror shot down her spine. It had to be Kineson. He'd come to rape her while she was tied. He'd enjoy the abuse.

She turned her head to face him, to take her enemy head-on. And suddenly she knew it wasn't Kineson. Cain had come back. Even in the darkness, she recognized him. She knew his breathing, she knew his smell,
she
knew his touch.

Without a sound, he lowered his hand and untied her. She was torn between wanting to hug him and wanting to slap his terrible, handsome face. He drew her against him, she rebelliously pulled away. Without a sound, he forced her down onto the bedroll. He won the battle, as she knew he would, and soon they were
lying
together, both feigning sleep.

Her mind was wild with unanswered questions. She wanted to know why he had come back, where he had gone, what he was thinking, but she knew she would never get anything more than the excuse he'd already given her about hidden gold. Perhaps it was the truth. Nonetheless, she was furious that he'd left. He'd revealed emotions she didn't want and now that he was back, her terror eased, and she again felt that perverse gratitude. She vowed to do away with all her feelings for him, but that was hard while lying in the fortress of his arms. Especially because for the first time in her life, she could think of no place she'd rather be.

Until the lavender fingers of dawn crept over the mountains. Tuesday had come.

The gang rose early, keeping a fearful silence as they saddled their horses and scarfed down their breakfast. Kineson looked the most nervous. And all the while, his gaze followed Christal as if she were the ransom, not Overland's gold.

Finally, the men saddled, camp broke,
Kineson
sat atop his paint and mapped out the orders. "Zeke'll watch the passengers back up in the saloon while we pick up the loot." His feral gaze slid to Cain, who was astride his
Ap
, Christal holding on to his waist. Cain stared back, his face expressionless and hard. She knew that look well. "Cain, you and I'll get the ransom. The boys here'll cover us."

Cain nodded. Christal's heart skipped a beat. Once Kineson got that ransom, she'd bet her soul that he would return to camp alone. He was choreographing Cain's slaughter. She looked up at Macaulay, desperately hoping he saw this too, but Cain only grunted his assent.

"The woman goes with Zeke to the saloon."

"She stays with me." Cain's fingers relaxed, inches from his holster.
Christal's breath suspended in her throat.
Beneath them, the
Ap
pranced nervously, waiting for the order to move out.

Kineson's eyes lowered to Cain's fingers. "She's a liability. You can't move on that horse if she's holding on behind."

"She's insurance. They ain't gonna shoot at us when they see I've got her."

Kineson looked at Cain, then at Christal. A smile touched his lips and he said, "Sure, Cain, sure." Kineson's smile grew, and he turned his horse eastward. The men followed. Cain let the
Ap
have its head.

They climbed past Valentine Lake,
then
took a trail that wound between Cathedral and Lizard Head peaks. Mountains shot rock and snow to the heavens, a violent, awe-inspiring sight, but there was no one to notice. All were too absorbed in their own tragedies or triumphs to take note of the magnificent theater around them. Soon they reached the foothills overlooking the Popo Agie valley and in the distance they could spy smoke from the fires at Camp Brown. Only trappers and displaced Arapahoe lived there now. The government had declared the old fort abandoned, which was why Kineson had chosen the water tower near it for the drop site.

The sun rose, and it was almost warm as they descended from their mountain hideaway to the prairie below. Overhead, the sky became a huge blue dome that Christal wished was big enough to swallow her, Cain, and the rest of the Overland passengers. Like an out-of-control locomotive, the inevitable screamed toward them. Try as she might to think of a way to avoid the showdown, there seemed no escape. Her only hope had rested on Cain, that he would see the folly of going along with Kineson. But he hadn't. If anything, he'd adamantly embraced Kineson's plans. And though it broke her heart to remind herself of it, the man who had kissed her and held her last night was still the same man who had kidnapped her. Cain was as entrenched in the Overland ransom scheme as any other gang member who rode with Kineson. He was an outlaw, just as Marmet had been and Boone was. There was no denying it. There never had been.

At the edge of the plains, Christal began to remember the path to the drop site. The day Cain had taken her there seemed years ago. Silence had stood sentinel between them, as it did now, but now the silence was different. When before it had been one-dimensional, empty, mere silence, now it was almost a living thing, a fully formed figure that sat between them, fraught with emotion and memories of what might have been.
Draped in black.

Unable to accept what might come, Christal held on to Cain more tightly, leaning her cheek against the soft faded fabric of his shirt, soothing herself with the warm, hard play of muscles on his back as he rode. The girl she should have been would have never embraced a gun-fighter this way, but the girl she'd become was desolate. It was as if she had been given a glimpse of something beautiful and good and right, and just as she recognized what could be hers, the door had slammed and she was left out in the cold with nothing, all the more disconsolate for seeing what she now knew she could never have.

Sensing her mood, Cain said softly, "It's going to be all right, girl."

She didn't answer, she didn't look at him. She was too afraid of tears.

The gang arrived at the water tower long before noon. The horses were tied in a patch of cottonwoods below a ridge out of sight of the railroad tracks. Kineson and Cain stood in the shade, still mounted, ready to go. Christal, also astride the
Ap
, clutched at Cain's waist, feeling her terror mount as the sun marched to its zenith. The other gang members, Winchesters in hand, crawled through the high grass to position themselves strategically near the drop site.

They saw the locomotive five miles before it arrived. In the distance it looked like a puny toy, no match for a gang of cold-eyed outlaws, but as it grew closer it became more ominous. The grind of oiled steel and the flare of blowing cinders whispered fury. The release of steam was a cry to war like
J
.E.B. Stuart waving his plumed hat.

"We talked about how we're gonna do this.
Any questions?"
Kineson addressed Cain but looked at Christal. She shrank back.

"No questions," Cain answered automatically. He nodded. His eyes were frigid.

They watched the locomotive grind to a halt beneath the water tower—a strange sight with no people, no buildings, nothing but empty prairie as far as the eye could see. The train consisted of the iron engine, the wood bin, and one car, nothing more—just as Kineson had specified.

Cain and Kineson jogged their mounts to the waiting train. Cain was the one to approach the car and Christal clung to him like a frightened kitten. He inched the
Ap
forward and banged the butt of his rifle on the door.

The door opened six inches.

Without pause, a small canvas bag was shoved out the space, dropping with a thud to the ground. Then another, then another, until there was a large pile on the side of the tracks. Kineson released a loud, gleeful chuckle as he eyed the pleasing glitter of gold from a bag that had broken open.

The final bag shoved out, the door slammed and the train chugged to a start. Christal watched it depart, not realizing her nails dug into Cain's back. When the train was a speck miles down the tracks, Kineson dismounted. The outlaws who'd been hiding in the grass stood, whooping and shouting like Indians while Kineson filled his shirt with as many canvas bags as he could carry.

"Get them horses over here and we'll load the rest up," Kineson shouted over the din. Boone nodded, the first one to run to the cottonwoods, eagerly hitching up his jeans in his greed to have at the loot.

"Gimme the girl, Cain."
In the excitement neither Cain nor Christal watched Kineson. Kineson had mounted and now stood at their side, his shirt bloated with bags of money.

Cain grabbed his revolver. It was trained on Kineson before Christal could blink. "She's not going with you, Kineson. Get that through your head."

"The only thing going through your head is a bullet. Look behind you, Cain."

Christal turned her head. One of the outlaws had a rifle pointed at them. They'd planned Cain's execution just as she'd suspected.

Her heart died in her chest. She held on to Cain and vowed never to let go. For some crazy reason her mind couldn't accept that this was how she was going to watch him die.

"What is it, Kineson? You think I betrayed you?" Cain's every word was slow and cautious.

"Hell no.
You're just too uppity, Cain. Now that we've got the money, we don't need you anymore." Anger cut into Kineson's features. He nodded toward Christal. "And I don't appreciate the fact you don't share, boy. So gimme the girl, or the both of you gonna be blown to kingdom come."

Cain was silent. Then all at once, he nodded for her to go to Kineson.

"No, Macaulay," she whispered urgently. "They're going to shoot you the minute I get off this horse. Don't let them. Don't!"

"Take her, Kineson! She's all yours!" Cain said, refusing to look at her.