Nine

Amanda squinted into the rising sun and stretched her legs. Overnight her muscles had stiffened. She giggled. Served her right after what she and Seth had done throughout the night. She pushed herself to a sitting position and looked around. Seth was standing on the top of a rise. He was fully dressed and staring out at the landscape.

“Good morning,” she said softly.

He took a sip of water from the canteen he held and grinned. “Ah, Sleeping Beauty.” He wiped the rim with his bandana and passed it to her. “You should get dressed and get a head start, so there are no questions once you reach town. I’ll keep you in sight just to be safe, but come in later.”

She took a swallow and made a face. The water tasted like minerals.

He hesitated before crouching close to her. “Look, Amanda, there’s a good deal I can’t tell you, but what I can tell you is that you need to keep the Baxter kid in town. He’s asking for trouble riding out the way he does. Talk to his father if you have to, but…”

“His father would beat him badly. I will not be responsible for that boy enduring more abuse.”

“Then talk to him, because he’s asking to get himself killed if he keeps doing what he’s doing.”

“Why do you care?”

“He’s a kid.”

“It’s more than that,” she argued. “Tell me why you care so much what happens to a boy you barely know.”

He let out a breath that showed steam in the chill of the morning air. He stared toward the distant hills, then finally looked back at her. “I’ve got a younger brother his age, okay? Kids that age think nothing can happen to them.”

“Were you that way at their age?”

He gave her a half smile and stood. “Worse,” he said as he walked away to lead her horse closer to their camp. “Go wash up. I’ll saddle your horse. You’ve got more than an hour’s ride ahead of you. Best get started.”

He’d said nothing about their passion of the night before other than that stupid joke about Sleeping Beauty. Did it mean so little to him after all? She splashed cold water from the creek on her face and twisted her hair into a knot that would fit beneath the crown of her hat. When she stood and turned away from the creek, he was watching her.

“What?” she said irritably.

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he said softly, and she had the oddest feeling that he was unaware he had spoken aloud.

“I’m a mess,” she countered as she strode to her horse and mounted. “With any luck the others will be at breakfast, and I can slip by and get changed before they see me.”

He had been holding the reins to keep the horse steady. As he handed them to her, he took her hand. “Amanda, there’s something I need to finish, but once that’s done…”

The last thing she wanted was an empty promise of someday. “Yeah, well, you know where to find me,” she replied, and pulled her hand free as she kneed the horse’s flanks.

She was halfway back to the main trail when she heard him shout, “Talk to the Baxter boy!”

Without turning to look at him, she waved and urged her horse to pick up the pace. The very idea that there could ever be anything more than one night of passion between them was ludicrous. He kept secrets, and on top of that, her family would never accept him—not her mother, and certainly not Jess. After all, she had known what she was getting into—one night was all she had asked for, and now, she’d had that. Best put the whole business behind her, she thought as she drove her mount hard to make up time.

Later that morning, after she had washed and changed and brushed the tangles his fingers had created from her hair, she made her way to the Baxter house and was stunned to find Ezra Baxter waiting for her.

“Good morning, Amanda,” he said, dropping all pretense at the formalities usually observed between employer and employee. “How is your mother?”

“She is well, thank you.” She felt the need to offer some explanation for not getting back to town until that morning. “In fact, my entire family had gathered, and we were…”

“No need to explain yourself, Amanda. I am pleased you enjoyed the time with them.” He cleared his throat. They were still standing at the gate where he had intercepted her before she could reach the back entrance. From the corner of her eye, she was aware of Kitty watching them under the pretense of hanging laundry.

Apparently, Ezra was also aware of his housekeeper’s curiosity. “Shall we?” he asked, indicating the front porch.

“Of course.”

Once they were seated on two straight-backed chairs made of cypress wood, Amanda folded her hands in her lap and waited for him to explain why he had chosen not to go to the bank at his usual hour. When he did not speak, but instead relaxed into the chair and stared at the main street, she felt something must be amiss. “Has something happened, Mr. Baxter? Are the children…”

“The children are fine, Amanda. I am so pleased with their progress that I gave them the day off.”

“I see.”

“I thought we might spend the day together, you and I. After all, not to pressure you, my dear, but you have not yet given me your answer.”

“My answer?”

“To my proposal of marriage. With you at my side, there would be no need to send the children east.” He chuckled. “When I spoke of this to them, they were delighted. It seems they have grown quite fond of you.”

Amanda could barely find words. “You…surely you can see that what delights them is the idea they will not need to leave their home. You hardly need me to marry you for that.” She stood and reached for her satchel. “I believe we have had a serious misunderstanding, Mr. Baxter.”

“Ezra,” he said calmly.

“I am Eli and Ellie’s tutor, sir—nothing more. As for you and me, we are employer and employee—nothing more. I barely know you, and you most certainly do not know me. Either we speak no more of this idea that you and I might ever…”

“I could ruin you,” he said in that same calm, singsong way she’d heard him speak to people on the street. He might as easily be saying, “Have a nice day.”

Amanda froze and slowly turned to face him. “Are you threatening me?”

“Do you care at all for the happiness of my children?” he countered.

“Of course I do.”

“Then may I suggest that at the moment your reputation is in question all over town—those evening meetings with the pharmacist, bringing him here to my home at midday under the guise of teaching my son some game? At the moment, marrying me rather than James Matthews would be the wiser choice, clearing up any question of your character. In addition, making a home for Eli and Ellie, living here in this house with the freedom—and finances—to do whatever you want in terms of furnishing the rooms, taking your rightful place as one of the community’s most respected women…”

It hit her that he had said nothing about Seth. He thought she was romantically involved with Jim Matthews. It explained his sudden urgency to get her answer to his proposal. “I was unaware that my personal life was a factor in my employment, Mr. Baxter. If that is the case…”

His breath came in a rush of exasperation, and his hands, while they remained in his lap, tightened into fists. “Why do you insist on provoking me, Amanda? I should not need to remind you that your future is at best precarious. I am offering you security.”

I don’t want security. I want romance, adventure, love.

“I appreciate that it may be difficult for you to understand, Mr. Baxter, but times are changing—women, in particular, are changing when it comes to how they view the future and their lives.”

The man’s face went nearly purple with horror. “Please do not tell me that you have become infatuated with those women who insist on the vote and such.”

He had given her the opening she needed. “Could you not marry such a woman, Ezra?” She took care to frame her facial expression in a concerned frown.

“I could not.” He was practically blubbering. “Under no circumstances could I ever stand for such foolishness. A woman belongs…”

“In the home?”

“Precisely.”

She picked up her satchel. “Then we have nothing further to discuss, Ezra. May I assume you would prefer that I no longer tutor Eli and Ellie?”

She understood by his expression that his first instinct was to terminate her employment, but the children were so close to achieving the goals he had set. Furthermore, if she would not marry him, then he would send them east, after apparently telling them they did not have to go. She almost felt sorry for him and decided to ease his pain.

“May I suggest that since we are nearly at the end of the school semester, I could complete the work with the children? Of course, there would be terms.”

“Terms?”

“There would be no more talk of a union between us.”

He smirked. “You took care of that with your obvious enchantment with those foolish suffragists.”

“And there will be absolutely no discussion of my personal life,” she added.

He sighed. “I suppose your politics and those of the druggist are a better match, although why you would turn your back on a house like this, and all the money you could ever hope to have, puzzles me.”

What puzzled her was where he planned to get all that money, since town gossips repeatedly hinted that the bank was in trouble. “I have one final condition.”

He scowled at her the way he had before he got it into his head that they might wed. “Do not push your luck with me, young lady.”

“I wish to be paid what I am owed to date, and going forward I wish to be paid—in full—weekly.”

He stood and faced her. His anger was visible in his flushed cheeks, his bulging eyes, and the way his breath wheezed through his flared nostrils like a bull preparing to charge. She had the sudden image of Eli’s black eye and the bruise on Ellie’s arm. She had never known his wife, but a vision of a woman enduring his abuse flashed through her mind. Every bone in her body pleaded to take a step back.

Instead, she straightened to her full height, eye to eye, and refused to blink or flinch. “Do we have an agreement, Mr. Baxter?” She thrust out her hand, and to her shock, he took it, pumped it once, and then brushed past her on his way down the street to the bank.

She had won. She had stood her ground, kept her wits about her, and won.

The feeling was incredible, and she wanted to share her triumph with someone.

Not just someone, she thought. Seth.

* * *

The first person Seth saw as he rode into town was the banker. Ezra Baxter was leaving the house, slamming his derby onto his head. He hurried down the street, oblivious to traffic as he crossed the rutted road. He looked upset, but then Seth tried to recall if he had ever encountered Ezra Baxter when he didn’t look like he could chew nails. Word had it that his bank was on the verge of failure. This was gossip, and most people paid little attention, but Seth had his sources.

As he neared the boardinghouse, he spotted Amanda, standing at the adobe entrance to the Baxter house. She waved, and that surprised him, since they really hadn’t parted on the best of terms.

The woman constantly surprised and confused him. He was a man who prided himself on his ability to read beneath the surface and get to the heart of what a person thought or felt. With Amanda he was never quite sure. Of course, that was part of the attraction—that, and the fact that she was impossibly beautiful, and making love to her had been like nothing he had ever experienced.

He tipped two fingers to his hat and rode to the boardinghouse. He was aware of her watching him, but when he made no move to ride in her direction, she returned to the Baxter house and went inside. Knowing he should be relieved, all he really felt was disappointed.

“Grow up, Grover,” he grumbled as he tied his horse to a hitching post and climbed the steps to the front door. He made it past the parlor and up the stairs without running into anyone. When he reached his room and opened the door, the first thing he saw was another note.

Bank. Rooftop. Saturday night. Nine o’clock.

Okay, this was either a setup or a way to distract him from whatever was really going down. The confusing thing was that the timing and place in no way matched with when the garrison’s payroll wagon would be headed for the fort, or the schedule of the train. It had nothing to do with the abandoned Frost ranch and the activity he’d observed there. He really needed to talk to the Baxter kid and find out what he knew.

He glanced out the window that overlooked the backyard of the banker’s home. The housekeeper was sweeping the tiled steps that led into the kitchen. There was no sign of Amanda or the children. He saw movement behind the row of three windows framed in painted wood toward the front of the house. A glimmer of white reminded him of the blouse Amanda often wore. She was teaching. The windows were the library.

After changing to a clean shirt and tucking it in, he ran down the stairs and out the door. Circling around to the back of the house, he crossed into the Baxter yard and knocked lightly at the kitchen door, hoping no one would be there. He was in luck.

He entered the kitchen, where he spotted the boy’s baseball and glove and picked them up. As he passed the corridor that led to the bedrooms, he could hear the housekeeper moving around down there. When he reached the library, the doors were closed, but he could hear Amanda’s voice.

He stopped outside the door to listen.

“I understand that your father is so pleased by the progress you have both made that he’s given us the day off. I have to agree that the research you’ve done on your studies of the geology of the area has been exceptional, Eli. Of course, you have a way to go to equal your sister when it comes to your writing skills. As for you, Ellie, that story you wrote for Friday’s assignment was poignant and lovely. You’ve both done excellent work.”

Seth admired the way she complimented the kid without leaving out the sister’s accomplishments as well. He heard a boy’s voice shifting between the registers of adolescence and adult.

“Do we get time outside then, Miss Porterfield?”

“You do indeed. However, I’m afraid Mr. Matthews will not be able to join us today. He sent word that he has no one to mind the store.”

Seth slid the door open just wide enough for him to sidle through. He tossed the ball in the air and caught it. “Maybe I could be of help?”

Amanda’s blush fueled his desire—his desire to impress her. Eli watched him with mixed emotions. He really wanted to play ball. On the other hand, he clearly recognized Seth, and the expression in his eyes was one of wariness.

“You’re that man,” the girl blurted. “Father said we should stay away from you. He would be upset to find you here. He doesn’t like you, mister.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Maybe if he got to know me…”

“What are you doing here?” Amanda asked in a low voice meant only for his ears.

He tossed the ball again, caught it, and then lobbed it to her. In spite of herself, the Baxter girl giggled.

“Are you any good?” The boy seemed to have found his nerve. He had stretched himself to his full height, which came close to equaling Seth’s.

“Why don’t we find out, Eli?” Seth handed him the glove and headed for the door. When the three remained as still as statues, he grinned. “Well? You coming or not?”

Outside, he took the ball from Amanda and tossed it to Eli. “Show me what you’ve got,” he said as he crouched into a catcher’s position.

“You’d better take the glove,” Eli said.

“Just throw your best pitch.” Seth held his hands to receive the ball. Eli wound up and then threw a blistering fastball that Seth dropped as soon as it struck his hand. “Pretty good.”

“Pretty good?” Eli held out the glove again. “You want this now, or do you want me to burn you again?”

Seth stood and met the boy halfway to get the glove. “Sure. Thanks.”

While Amanda and the girl sat on a banco outside the kitchen door, Eli threw pitches to Seth, who sometimes gave him a pointer on making it more effective, and sometimes received the pitch with a grin before lobbing it back.

After about half an hour, the housekeeper emerged with a tray loaded with glasses and a pitcher of lemonade. “Come have something cold to drink,” Amanda called.

Seth walked to the makeshift pitcher’s mound on the pretense of handing Eli his glove and ball. “We need to talk,” he said softly. “I need to know what you mean by that latest note you left me.” It was a shot in the dark, but he saw by the way the boy’s eyes widened in surprise that he’d guessed right. “You’re playing a dangerous game, kid. Let me help you.”

“You can’t,” Eli said. “Nobody can.” And with that, he stalked off toward the house. Without breaking stride, he said something to Amanda and his sister as he passed them and entered the back door.

“What happened between the two of you?” Amanda demanded after she’d sent Ellie back into the kitchen for napkins.

“Leave it be, Amanda.” Seth pasted on a grin as Ellie emerged from the shadows of the house and placed a stack of cloth napkins on the table next to the plate of cookies the housekeeper had left.

“Mrs. Caldwell said Eli was upstairs lying down—too much sun. She was fixing him some ice water.”

Amanda filled and distributed glasses of lemonade. “I expect we could all use something cold to drink.”

Seth drained his glass in one action. “Well, ladies, it’s been fun, but I have work to do. Ellie, be sure and tell your brother I hope he gets to feeling better. I look forward to seeing him again soon.” He tipped his fingers to his hat. “Miss Porterfield,” he said by way of parting.

The fact that she wanted to question him further was written all over her face, but until he’d had time to sort things out with Eli, he had no answers to give.

* * *

Amanda didn’t have much time to ponder what might have transpired between Eli and Seth. After she sent Ellie to her room to get her bonnet and gloves with a promise of visiting some of the local shops that afternoon, Kitty cornered her.

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t know—”

“Don’t play dumb, Amanda. You and the mister had a serious talk this morning, and before that he told me to prepare for a large party he wants to host on Saturday—he’s invited a bunch of important people, from the district attorney to Judge Ellis himself. Their wives as well. That man hasn’t hosted so much as a Sunday dinner since his wife died, and when I suggested such a gathering could get expensive, he said—and I quote—‘Spare no expense.’ Now you tell me, is that not strange?”

“Very strange.” Amanda’s first thought was that Ezra had been so confident she would accept his proposal that he had gotten the cart well before the horse. No wonder he had been so upset. “He may change his mind.”

“Not likely. He hired the Tucker boy to hand-deliver invitations yesterday. So far, there have been no regrets. Everybody’s coming—including James Matthews and his daughter. You coulda knocked me over with a feather when I heard that one. If there’s one person Mr. Baxter has butted heads with in this town, that would be Jim Matthews. He can’t stand the man, especially the way he built that business of his even after Mr. Baxter turned him down for a loan.”

Amanda’s head was spinning. This was a disaster in the making, and she felt compelled to put a stop to it. “Kitty, would you tell Ellie to meet me at the millinery in half an hour? I forgot an appointment I need to keep.” She didn’t really wait for the housekeeper to agree, but ran across the yard and into the boardinghouse instead.

From her room she grabbed her satchel and then hurried to the bank. Ezra’s secretary, Mr. Fitzhugh, looked up in surprise at her entrance.

“I’m afraid Mr. Baxter has requested no appointments today, Miss Porterfield. Is there some way I might be of service?”

“Oh, Mr. Fitzhugh, this is about the children, and I’m quite sure Mr. Baxter will want to see me.” Before the little man could protest—or indeed, move from behind his desk—she had swept past him, and opened, then immediately shut, Ezra’s office door.

Ezra stood and glared at her. “This is not the time—”

“Kitty has told me about the party,” she interrupted. “Forgive me for presuming that you planned that as an event to announce our…”

She saw by the way he slumped into his chair that not only had she guessed right, but also that he had completely forgotten about the party.

“I can’t cancel,” he mumbled. “It will ruin everything.”

“What if I have a plan so the party can go forward, and you will not lose face?”

He straightened and scowled. “I’m listening.”

“Have the party be a celebration of the children—the work they have accomplished.”

The scowl changed to a frown of concentration, but he was definitely listening.

“Over the next couple of days, I could have Eli and Ellie prepare a little program. Ellie could read one of her stories or poems, and Eli could explain the geology project he’s been working on. Think how impressed everyone would be that you were able to bring your children through their grief for their mother to become the model students they were when she was alive.”

“And you would attend as well?”

“Of course. I am their teacher.” She placed her satchel on a chair and removed some papers. “Just look at what your daughter has written, Mr. Baxter.”

He waved the papers away as he stood and paced from one side of the room to the other. “It might work,” he said, more to himself than to her. “And with the children providing the evening’s program, I could cancel the musicians I hired.” He paused and pivoted to fix his gaze on her. “There can be no mistakes,” he told her. “I’ll need a program that entertains our guests for at least half an hour.”

“I’m certain that the twins and I can easily—”

“I suppose you expect extra wages for this.”

She was insulted that he thought for one minute money might be her motive. She was saving the man from embarrassment, after all. “I am delighted to have Eli and Ellie receive the praise and credit they deserve. This party is the perfect opportunity. And that is remuneration enough.” She glanced at the wall clock above his office door. “And now, if you will excuse me, I promised Ellie I would meet her at the milliner’s.”

“Just a minute more, Amanda.” To her astonishment, Ezra Baxter opened a small safe and removed an envelope. “Buy Ellie something she can wear to the party, and get a new shirt and a vest for Eli as well.” He pressed the envelope into her hands. “If you have anything left, buy something for yourself—perhaps something for your lovely hair.”

Amanda glanced at the envelope so stuffed with money it would not close properly. “Thank you, but I cannot accept that. If there is anything left, I can give it to Mrs. Caldwell to pay the expenses for the party.”

“Do as you like,” he said gruffly, and turned his back to her.

“We won’t disappoint you, sir—the children and I,” she assured him as she gathered her things and opened the door. “I’ll keep you informed on the progress.”

Outside the bank she realized she was still clutching the money. She decided to return to the boardinghouse before meeting Ellie. Tomorrow she would take the twins shopping. The one thing—perhaps the only thing—she felt sure of was that she was not about to allow Ezra Baxter to use his money to buy her something pretty for her hair.

* * *

The party Ezra Baxter was hosting was the talk of the town. Certainly, the residents of the boardinghouse seemed incapable of discussing anything else, whether or not they had received an invitation, although only Ollie had been left off the list. To no one’s surprise, Seth was also not invited, and that would work to his advantage. The party was the same evening he was supposed to get to the roof of the bank for the mysterious meeting.

Eli Baxter continued to deny that he had written the note, although he did finally admit to delivering it. Seth had confronted him one night when the boy made one of his midnight rides to the abandoned ranch. “You need to stop doing this, kid. You have no idea what these men are capable of, if they have reason to believe you’ve crossed them.”

“So don’t put me in that position by talking to me and coming to the house to play baseball, mister. I know what I’m doing.”

“Let me help you. Tell me what’s going on. Do you know where the Stock boys and their gang are hiding?”

The kid’s reaction had told Seth he’d guessed right. It was dark, but there was no denying the way Eli tensed at the mention of the gang. “I gotta go.” He turned his horse away from Seth, but Seth reached out and took hold of the bridle.

“The old prospector got shot in broad daylight. He died. Do you think they would hesitate for a second to do the same to you?”

“And what’s it to you? Everybody in town thinks you’re up to no good. How do I know you’re not in cahoots with the gang, spying on me? I heard Sheriff Richter tell Judge Ellis he was pretty sure you were on the wrong side of the law.”

Seth took this as good news. If people with power thought he was an outlaw, then his cover was protected. If anybody thought he was working the other side of the fence with a plan to prevent a robbery, he might as well pack up and leave Tucson. “Maybe I am. Maybe that’s why your mysterious note sender told me to meet him there—maybe we’re in cahoots.”

“I gotta go,” Eli said again, and this time Seth released his hold on the horse.

“Stay away from this, kid.”

Eli snorted with derision. “Who’s gonna stop me?” He rode off.

Seth watched him go. Suddenly, Sam wasn’t his only concern. Eli Baxter was in this thing up to his neck.

Seth fingered the note in his pocket. Maybe he was being lured to the meeting. They were on to him and intended to eliminate him. The party the banker was throwing would be the perfect cover—the saloons would be as rowdy as ever, and in addition, most decent citizens would be at the Baxter house. In effect, the town would be deserted.

Later that evening, he waited until everyone had left the boardinghouse, Ollie for his shift at the Blue Parrot and all the women for the Baxter house. Admittedly, he had lingered near the window, waiting to see Amanda. She wore a modest, pale-blue gown, a dress appropriate for a teacher. From talk at the boardinghouse, he knew the party was a celebration of the progress the Baxter twins had made in their studies. The others, however—Mrs. Rosewood, Miss Jensen, and their landlady—had apparently decided to take full advantage of a social outing. They were dressed in finery suitable for a ball.

He watched the four women make their way along the path from the boardinghouse to the Baxters’ front gate. Other guests arrived by carriage. Ezra Baxter and his children were at the gate to greet them all. Seth cringed when he saw Baxter place a proprietary hand on Amanda’s waist as he introduced her to Judge Ellis, and then was clearly taken aback when Ellis apparently let the banker know he and Amanda had already met.

Seth waited for the last guest to arrive and for the Baxter family to enter the house and close the door before making his move. His plan was to be on that roof well ahead of whomever he was supposedly meeting. He would lie in wait for his attacker—or attackers.

Making certain he was not followed, he made his way down the alley, past the drugstore and Miss Jensen’s millinery shop. He checked all side lanes and doorways—anywhere an attacker might hide—and saw no one. At one end of the street, he could hear the honky-tonk piano from the Blue Parrot. At the opposite end, he was aware that the Baxter party had spilled into the courtyard because the weather was so fine. He glanced up. The sky was full of stars and a sliver of a moon. With any luck, tonight would mark the completion of his final assignment for Wells Fargo. He would foil the Stock brothers and be free at last to begin a proper courtship of Miss Amanda Porterfield.

When he reached the bank, it occurred to him that with the place closed, he had no way of reaching the roof. Why had his mysterious confidant designated this as their meeting place? That was a sure sign something wasn’t right, but he didn’t have a choice. He hesitated, then ducked between the bank and the mercantile next door. As he headed for the street, he noticed a side door to the bank ajar—a door that should have been closed tight and locked.

Because he was early, he decided to take a chance and step inside, where he found himself at the foot of a steep, narrow stairway. It had to go to the roof. He closed the door that led to the street, but did not secure it. Whoever was coming would find it unlocked as expected, and Seth would hear the door open and shut again. He would be ready.

He started up the steps, keeping close to the wall, his hand on his gun. The steps were iron, and it was hard to keep from making a sound as his leather bootheels connected with metal. The door at the top of the stairway had been blocked open, allowing light from the street and surrounding buildings to filter into the confines of the dark corridor. He listened for footsteps and watched for shadows, but other than distant music from the saloon, all was still and silent.

He waited for several seconds once he reached the top step before slipping over the threshold and onto the flat surface of the roof. His senses were on high alert, and he immediately picked up the scent of sweat and—of all things—oranges. Somebody had gotten there ahead of him, and when he heard the slurp of somebody eating the orange, he knew he had the advantage.

Turning toward the direction of the scent, he stepped onto the roof, gun drawn. He heard a scrambling, like a rat scuttling across a floor, and saw a shadowy figure struggle to his feet. “Jeezel Pete, Seth, you’re early. Put that thing away.”

It was a voice he knew, but had almost given up ever hearing again. “Sam?”

His mind raced with a myriad of thoughts—he had found his brother and had the urge to wrap his arms around him and hold him tight. It would embarrass them both, but the feeling was still there.

He took a step forward, lowering his pistol as he did, but stopping short of returning the weapon to its holster. “What going on, Sam?”

“They’re gonna rob the bank tonight.” Apparently oblivious to his older brother’s wariness, Sam stepped closer and offered Seth a section of an orange. The sweet, tangy smell hung in the air between them, but Seth waved him away.

“Talk to me, Sam.”

“I’ve been on the inside now for the last several weeks.”

“You sent the notes?”

“Yeah, the kid was like a regular carrier pigeon. I figured, why not get a couple of messages to you?”

“Eli?”

Sam shrugged. “Don’t know his given name, just that he’s the banker’s kid.”

“Where did the prospector fit into all this?”

“He was the one supposed to be getting information about what was going on at the fort and the movement of the payroll. But then the brothers got suspicious about him after somebody saw him talking to that marshal there in Whitman Falls. They thought he was setting them up, so Rudy Stock—he’s a hothead if ever one walked the earth—just took off to find him. That’s when they changed the plan from robbing the payroll for the fort to robbing the bank. Orson Stock and the banker grew up together, so he went into town one day and had a little talk with his old friend. Pointed out to Baxter that his bank was up to its eyeballs in trouble. I guess he’s been borrowing from Peter to pay Paul, as Ma would say. Anyway, Orson told him that as an old friend, he’d be willing to help him out.”

“Okay, this is making no sense,” Seth said as he put away his gun. “If the bank’s in trouble, then what makes it worth robbing?”

Sam sighed and stuffed a quarter of the orange between his lips, sucking the juice free. He spit out the seeds. “It’s complicated, but they stand to make a huge haul, if they pull it off. Yesterday, the sheriff persuaded the captain at the fort that the payroll wagon was going to be hit, but if he would let him store the actual money in the bank and replace it with cut up paper and rocks, they could catch the gang and not lose the money.”

“You’re telling me that the money meant for the fort is in this bank?”

Sam grinned. “On its way, I reckon. The colonel agreed to send the money here tonight, so Rudy and Orson figured while they wait for the payload to show up, they might as well help themselves to what’s already in the bank. Pretty brilliant, right?”

“And you’re saying the sheriff had a part in this?”

“Has a part. The sheriff and the banker—they were promised their cut, of course.”

“And the messages Eli has been carrying were instructions for his father?”

“Nope. For the sheriff. The kid didn’t know nothing about his pa—he thinks he’s saving his pa. The sheriff needed a courier. The kid’s part was to deliver the messages to that lady at the boardinghouse, so she could get word to the sheriff. Not the notes I sent you, of course. I sort of snuck those in there when I thought it was safe and paid him extra to slip them under your door.”

“What woman?”

“I don’t know. What I do know is that she’s related to Orson and Rudy somehow.”

Seth thought of the women in the house—the widow lady? Could be an aunt or even the Stock boys’ mother. Same with his landlady. But both were so proper that he had a hard time imagining either being part of something so sordid. Of course, the milliner could be a sister or girlfriend, but then why not deliver the messages to the shop? That left Amanda.

Sam was still talking. “I knew we had to meet up tonight if we were gonna have any chance of stopping this. The Stock boys have got this thing planned out down to the minute. They’re gonna hit while the banker’s party is going on and then ride hard all night for the border. You ask me, they’ve got no intention of paying anything to the banker or the sheriff.” He polished off the rest of his orange and licked his fingers.

He was so damned young, Seth thought. How on earth had he gotten himself mixed up in something like this? “What’s your role?”

“Horses. I hold ’em and have ’em ready to run soon as the job’s done.”

“You understand that if you don’t get yourself killed tonight, Ma is gonna do the job herself?”

Sam chuckled. “Her and Pa think I’m still just a kid, but it’s time, Seth. I want my chance to do what you’re doing. Chicago is boring, but out here there’s adventure around every bend. And if I do this right, then Wells Fargo will take notice. We could work together.”

Seth wondered if he had ever been quite so naive. “Here’s the way we’re gonna play this, little brother. You are going to leave here now and head for the fort. Hopefully, you’ll intercept the payroll detail on the way and can warn the captain of the plan and let him take matters from there. You’ll stay put until I come to get you. Understood?”

But even as he laid out the instructions, he knew it was already too late—he heard movement at the entrance to the alley two blocks away. Before Sam could protest, Seth held up his hand for quiet and crept to the edge of the roof to see what was going on below. He saw half a dozen riders, their horses muzzled.

“Are they expecting you to be here?” he whispered.

“Yeah. It was my job to slip into the bank and hide until after closing, so I could open the side door, and then take hold of the horses while they move the money. They’re early though.” He sounded surprised and confused—and very, very young.

“Okay, give me your hat and jacket.” Seth shrugged out of his own garments and handed them to his brother. “I’ll go do your part. As soon as they are inside the bank, you head for the fort.”

“They’ll have two acting as lookouts,” Sam protested.

That explained the large number of men. Two outside to keep watch, while four pulled off the heist. Think, Grover!

He wished Amanda’s brother were around, or that he could at least count on the district sheriff, but Richter was part of this whole business. It was Sam and him against six members of the gang and probably the sheriff.

“Hey, Seth, maybe I can jump from here to that roof next door and then shimmy to the ground and then…”

Seth’s instinct was to immediately reject the idea. But then he looked at the roof of the mercantile. It was flat and slightly lower than the bank’s roof. The gap between the buildings was maybe six feet.

“I’ll do it,” he said as he handed Sam back his hat and jacket. “You follow the original plan they laid out for you, but when I show up, you get the hell out of there, do you understand me? No heroics. Just grab a horse, mount up, and ride hard for the fort.”

“But the payload detail must be getting close to town already.”

“Then you’ll warn them off. I’ll handle things here.”

The movement below had stopped. He heard men arguing in low voices. They had reached the bank.

“Now go on, and do whatever you were told about the door.” He shoved Sam toward the stairway and watched him hurry down. He waited until he heard voices below.

“Where were you, kid?” a rough-talking man demanded in a raspy whisper.

“Right here, Rudy—just like you told me.”

“Come on,” another man said. “We don’t got all night.”

Seth peered over the edge of the roof and saw Sam emerge into the alley and take hold of the horses. To his credit, he resisted the urge to glance up. Two men spread out to watch from either end of the alley, while the other four entered the bank carrying saddlebags.

Seth hurried to the far side of the roof, took a running start, and jumped.