Chapter Twenty-Five
Reuben insisted Frank and Walt hold him at gunpoint as they made their way from his home to the back door of the bank, in the event anyone was watching. They didn’t see one person as they hurried along the back of the buildings.
But there was someone who caught a glimpse of the men through an alleyway. Stella Wood, a soiled dove at the Crystal Saloon, was sitting on the second floor balcony, scantily clad and drinking a whiskey-laced cup of coffee. It was her Sunday morning ritual to listen to the church bell ringing. The other girls were still in bed, and Stella enjoyed her quiet time alone on Sunday mornings. She hadn’t been inside a church since she was a young girl, but she’d never forgotten the peaceful solitude of the small church she’d attended. The soiled doves knew they weren’t welcome in church, and most of the girls didn’t care one way or the other. They didn’t bother to even get out of bed before noon on most Sunday mornings. Oftentimes, Stella wished she was brave enough to put on her most demure dress and go to church just so she could listen to the old hymns. Not wanting to be shunned by the townsfolk, she’d never summoned the courage to give it a try.
Stella’s musings were interrupted when she glanced across the street and saw three men walking behind the buildings. When they crossed a wide alleyway, she realized the man leading the threesome was the strange little clerk who worked at the bank. It looked to her like the man behind him was wearing a bandana covering most of his face, and he was holding a gun in the clerk’s back. There was no doubt in her mind they were making their way to the bank. She thought about raising an alarm, but she’d seen the sheriff lock his office and head to church earlier. There was no way she’d walk in that church to fetch the sheriff, not even if the entire town was burning down.
If those men were robbing the bank, the way she looked at it she didn’t have a horse in that race. It wasn’t as if she had money in the bank, and she didn’t expect she would ever earn enough money to save. It was her opinion the Denver Bank had made more than their fair share of money by selling the farms and ranches they’d foreclosed on during these hard times. Nor did she feel any particular concern over the bank clerk’s welfare. He wasn’t one of her customers, and she’d never even seen him in the saloon. She’d passed him a time or two on the sidewalk, but he’d never looked at her, not even to offer a polite nod like most men. When his boss came into the saloon, he didn’t give her the time of day either. So why should she get all hot and bothered about these men sticking up the bank?
* * *
Frank and Walt pulled their bandanas away from their faces once they were inside the bank. Walt locked the back door as Frank lowered the shades covering the front windows.
Reuben took both of their saddlebags. “Both of you keep your eyes on the street while I fill these up.” He knew the combination of the vault by heart, and he quickly opened the safe.
Frank and Walt took their positions by the windows where they could peek through the shades and watch the street in both directions.
“It’s a quiet street on a Sunday morning,” Frank whispered.
Walt saw the woman sitting on the balcony above the saloon. It was the pretty dove who had been playing cards the day he’d been in the saloon. She was the one who’d smiled at him. He wouldn’t mention her to Frank, because if she saw them enter the bank, she wasn’t doing anything about it. He saw no reason to put her life in jeopardy by telling Frank. Frank wanted to kill Joseph Longbow because Joseph could identify him as one of the rustlers. It stood to reason Frank wouldn’t hesitate to kill that woman if he thought she could pin the robbery on him.
After a few minutes passed, Frank walked around the counter near the vault door. “You about finished?”
“Yes, just keep your eyes on the front,” Reuben said. “I can handle this.”
Frank didn’t like Reuben giving instructions, but this wasn’t the time to set him straight. The little man could pull the door of the vault shut, and they would walk away with nothing. He walked back to the window and looked out. He’d take care of Reuben later.
Stella watched as the shades lowered at the bank. They were definitely robbing the bank. Maybe she could work this to her benefit. She walked into her room and grabbed her robe.
Walt saw the gal sitting on the balcony walk inside. He had a feeling she’d been watching the bank. Still, he wasn’t going to say anything unless he saw her leave the saloon and head for the sheriff’s office. He waited and watched the front door of the saloon. He figured she could leave by a back door, but something told him to remain quiet.
Reuben walked from the vault and handed the men their saddlebags. “I’ll stay here until you have time to get out of the area.”
Frank looked out the window one last time. “Let’s get out of here, Walt.”
“I’ll see you in a week,” Reuben reminded him.
“Sure thing.” Frank opened the back door and started running toward the brush. He didn’t look back once he entered the trees, until a shot rang out. He stopped and looked back toward the bank, but he was already too far into the trees to see anything. He listened, thinking he would hear Walt running behind him. Nothing. Where was Walt?
* * *
Walt ran from the bank with his saddlebag over his shoulder when he skidded to a halt. Standing at the corner of the building was the woman who had been sitting on the balcony. Walt was face-to-face with her. Up close, she was even prettier than he remembered. She wasn’t wearing makeup today, and she looked young and innocent. He couldn’t explain what happened to him in that moment, but a strange feeling came over him. He nodded.
Stella smiled at him.
Walt stared at her. She was smiling, but there was something about her, maybe the lonely look in her eyes, or perhaps it was the haunting look of hopelessness. Whatever it was, Walt had an overwhelming urge to grab her and take her with him. If someone had asked him yesterday if he’d ever settle down with one woman, he’d have told them they were crazy. He was a drifter, a loner. There’d been many a time he’d felt emptiness of his solitary life, but those were the times he’d pick up and move on to the next town.
He’d already planned on leaving Frank and his gang after this holdup. He didn’t trust Frank, he was evil through and through, and the farther he got away from him, the better. The money he was carrying was the means to a whole new life. Why keep drifting? Why not try something totally new? Suddenly, he could see himself settling down with a woman. This woman. He opened his saddlebag and removed a stack of bills. He held the money out to her.
Stella recognized Walt immediately. She didn’t know his name, but she remembered the day he’d walked into the saloon. When he smiled at her, she thought he was the most handsome man she’d ever seen. She remembered thinking she wished she wasn’t playing cards with other customers because she wanted to talk to him. The other gal who’d drank with him said he treated her real nice. Stella took the money from him. “Which way are you going?”
“South,” he replied.
“I’ll tell them you rode north.”
Walt glanced around and listened. Hearing nothing, he holstered his pistol and snaked an arm around her waist, pulling her close. He kissed her with a longing he didn’t know he possessed. When he released her, he said, “I’m Walt. I’m meeting Reuben in a week. If you’re interested, come with him and I’ll take you with me.”
For the first time since she was a young girl, Stella felt hope rising up in her soul. “I’m Stella, and I’ll be there.”
“Stella, you’re beautiful.” He tipped his hat and then ran for the trees.
Frank stepped out of the dense thicket. “Who fired that shot?”
Walt had his pistol in his hand so he wasn’t worried about Frank getting the drop on him. “Reuben pulled his derringer. He was going to double-cross us. Keep going, I’ll see you at the Conner place.”
Frank turned around and ran for his horse, jumped in the saddle, and didn’t wait around for Walt before kicking his horse into a gallop.
By the time Walt got to his horse, Frank was out of sight. Frank was headed back to the Conner cabin, so Walt rode south.
* * *
“Reuben, what in the world happened here?” the sheriff asked.
“Two men were waiting for me as I left my home to go to church this morning. They forced me at gunpoint to the bank.” Reuben played his role well. Walt had only grazed his upper arm with his shot, but it appeared to the sheriff that Reuben had put up a struggle. “I’m sorry they got away with the money, Sheriff. I tried to stop them.”
“You did what you could, Reuben.” The sheriff was surprised Reuben had even made an attempt to stop the bank robbers.
Stella kept her promise to Walt, saying to the sheriff, “I saw them riding north. I was sitting on the balcony when I heard the shot.” She realized people would come running when they heard the shot, so she’d stuffed the money down her chemise and tied her robe tightly around her. By the time the sheriff arrived at the bank, Stella was banging on the front door. The sheriff forced the door open, and they found Reuben lying on the floor. “I’ll take care of him, go on after them, Sheriff.”
“Thanks, Stella,” the sheriff said. “You say there were only two of them?”
“That’s all I saw,” Reuben said, clutching his arm.
“I only saw two men riding away,” Stella added.
“Reuben, did you know them, or ever see them before? Can you describe them?” the sheriff asked.
“They had their bandanas over their faces. I didn’t see anything other than their eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen them before.”
“Okay, Stella will help you,” the sheriff said on his way out the door.
Stella knew Reuben was lying. The man who had given her the money, Walt, didn’t have his mask on when he left the bank. Walt was meeting Reuben because they were partners in the robbery. She helped Reuben to his feet. “Come on, I’ll help you home. I don’t think the doctor is in town.”
“Thank you. I don’t think it’s serious. Perhaps you could bandage it for me.”
“Of course.” Rarely did men surprise Stella, but today, she’d had two of the biggest surprises of her life. This timid little man was a bank robber, and in a week she would be meeting a handsome cowboy and leaving behind the life she hated. Maybe dreams did come true. As soon as they were out of the bank, Stella said, “Reuben, I will be riding with you next week to meet Walt.”
* * *
Frank stayed off the trail the entire trip to Whispering Pines, and reined in at the Conner place two hours after the robbery. He hadn’t even stopped to count the money. When Walt shot Reuben, all he could think about was getting out of the area. He hadn’t even slowed down for Walt to catch up with him.
Corbin walked out of the cabin. “Did you bring any whiskey?”
“No.”
“Where’s Walt?”
“He should be here soon,” Frank said.
They heard a horse riding in, and Frank pulled his pistol. When he saw it was Stevie, he holstered his gun.
Stevie jumped from his horse. “Where’ve you been?”
“Denver,” Frank said, dismounting.
“Why didn’t you tell me? I’ve been out here several times looking for you.”
“We wanted to check out the town,” Frank said. He glanced at Corbin. “You got any coffee on the stove?”
“I’ll get some going.” Corbin walked back inside the cabin.
Frank waited until the door closed, then said, “We wanted to see what time was best to rob the bank.”
“I don’t see why I couldn’t have gone with you. Anyways, Reuben already told you the best time to pull the robbery.” Stevie looked around for Walt’s horse. “Where’s Walt?”
“I expect him any minute,” Frank said.
Stevie was angry he was the one always staying behind. Reuben had told them everything they needed to know about the bank robbery. “You and Walt ain’t planning on robbing that bank without me, are you?”
Frank glared at him. “You’d ask your own brother that? We’ve planned it together, haven’t we?”
Stevie hung his head. “Sorry, Frankie, I’m just tired of staying at the farm and not knowing what is going on.”
Frank shook his head as if he was disappointed in Stevie. “Why were you coming out here? Did something happen?”
“I came out to tell you that Rose was marrying Morgan on Saturday.”
“Next Saturday?” Frank asked.
“No, they married yesterday,” Stevie said. “You’re too late to stop it now.”
Frank’s face twisted in rage. “You were supposed to let me know before it happened!”
“I rode out here twice to tell you, but you weren’t here. How can I tell you when I don’t know where you are?”
Frank’s mind was racing. He couldn’t believe his own sister had married his enemy. Morgan was going to pay for this. Frank was certain Morgan had only asked Rose to marry out of spite. Rose was going to pay too. He needed time to think. “Stevie, go home. I’ll be there in a couple of hours.”
“What are you going to do, Frankie?”
“Right now I’m going to make a plan. Do as I say and go home.”
Frank watched Stevie ride away before he led his horse to the back of the cabin. He needed to hide his saddlebags in case Corbin got nosy. He wanted to take time to count the money, but right now it was more important to find a secure place for the cash. He walked through the trees until he found a perfect spot beneath a large tree, where he could bury his saddlebags under rocks.
When Frank returned to the cabin, Corbin said, “I thought you said Walt was right behind you?”
“I thought he was.” Frank wondered what was keeping Walt. What if he got caught? He didn’t know if Walt had killed Reuben, and he didn’t care one way or the other. That was one killing they couldn’t pin on him. He wasn’t planning on meeting Reuben in a week anyway. There was no way he was going to split the money with him.
Corbin handed Frank a cup of coffee. “Where do you think he is?”
“How do I know? Maybe his horse threw a shoe. Maybe he stopped for a nap.”
“You want me to go look for him?” Corbin asked.
“No. I want you to sit down. I want to tell you what we are going to do today.”
* * *
When Stevie reached the farm, he stabled his horse, but he didn’t take the time to remove his saddle. In a huff, he yanked off his saddlebag and stalked to the house. Once inside, he threw the saddlebag in a chair. He was tired of being taken for granted. There was no reason for Frankie to be in Denver, other than . . . no, he didn’t want to think that of his own brother. On the other hand, Reuben’s words kept playing in his mind. Reuben told him Frankie was going to double-cross all of them. And where was Walt? Did Frankie do something to Walt? He’d planned to meet Reuben in a few days, so he’d have a chance to ask him if he’d seen Frankie in Denver.
To be on the safe side, he thought he’d find a new hiding place for his money. If he didn’t like Frankie’s plans, he’d just take off on his own. That thought spurred him into action. He’d get his things together and hide them in the stable just in case he needed to go it alone. He grabbed his saddlebag from the chair and carried it to the bureau, then yanked a couple of shirts and socks out of a drawer and stuffed them in his saddlebag. He walked to the corner of the room and pried up the floorboard. Once he tossed the bag on the bed, he realized the bag was stamped with the name of a bank in St. Louis. He needed to get rid of that bank bag. He stuck his hand in the bag to pull the money out, but he came out with a handful of old newspapers. He emptied the bag on the floor and saw that more than half of the money had been replaced with newspapers. Frankie.
Stevie was distraught over what Frankie had done. He’d worshipped his big brother his whole life. How could he betray him like this? When had he taken the money? Frank was late the day they’d met Reuben. That had to be the day he took the money.
Realizing he didn’t have time to sit there and think about Frankie’s deceit, he jumped up and grabbed what money was left and shoved it in his saddlebag. He filled the bank bag with the newspapers and placed it back in the hole. He ran to the stable and hid the saddlebag beneath the hay in one of the stalls. He’d just made it back inside the house when Frankie slipped through the back door.
Frank took a seat at the kitchen table. “I figured out a way to get to LeMasters. I’ve sent Corbin to ride on Morgan’s property to create a diversion.”
Stevie found it difficult to be civil. He thought he was a faster draw than Frankie, but before he did something stupid, he wanted to know if his brother had already robbed the Denver bank. “What do you have planned?”
“Corbin is going to set a fire in the north pasture. I figure that will draw Morgan and his men to that area. Then we are going to set a fire here, and I know Rose will come running.”
“Then what?” Stevie didn’t care one way or the other if he burned the farm down.
“Then I’m taking Rose with us. I’ll have the very thing Morgan wants, and he will come to me.”
“What if Granny comes with her when they see the fire?” Stevie asked.
“Too bad for Granny. She always cared more about Morgan than she did us.”
“You’re going to take Rose to Denver with us to rob the bank?” He watched Frankie’s face carefully to see how he reacted to his question.
“We’ll have to put the robbery off for a few weeks,” Frank answered. “We’ll take the money you stole and head on down to Mexico.”
Stevie walked to his bedroom to get the bank bag. He had his answer. There was no way Frank would put off that bank robbery. Not after he’d already gone to the trouble to meet Reuben and planned the whole thing. Frank had already held up the bank, and Stevie figured it was likely Walt had been shot during the robbery. But what had happened to Reuben? If they’d robbed the bank today, Reuben wouldn’t have been working. Stevie retrieved the money, and when he turned around, Frank was standing in the doorway. He threw the bag on the bed. “There you go.”
Frank thought Stevie seemed jittery, but he read it as fear over what he had planned for Rose and Morgan. “It’ll take a while for Corbin to get there and get the fire started. You got any whiskey?”
“Yeah.” Stevie knew Frankie wouldn’t look in the bag since he’d already removed most of the money.
Frank grabbed the bag of money off the bed and walked toward the kitchen. Obviously, Stevie had never looked inside the bag and found most of the money missing, so Frank was going to keep it within his grasp and make sure he didn’t open it now.
Stevie pulled out a full bottle of whiskey from the cabinet, and Frank filled two glasses.
“Here’s to paying Morgan LeMasters back,” Frank said, holding his glass in the air.
Stevie clinked his glass to Frankie’s. “Yeah.”
Frank could tell Stevie was upset. “I thought you would be happy to finally show LeMasters that he don’t run things around here.”
“I just wanted to rob that bank and get out of here for good,” Stevie replied before he downed his whiskey.
Frank looked at his brother over the rim of the glass as he drained his whiskey. He picked up the bottle and refilled both glasses. “That bank won’t be going anywhere.”
“But Reuben may leave. He wants to travel,” Stevie said, and took another long drink.
“We can do it without Reuben.” Frank filled Stevie’s glass again. He knew Stevie couldn’t handle his liquor any better than Corbin. He wanted to leave him behind, and what better way to do it than get him too drunk to know what was happening. He didn’t want to split the money with him any more than he did the rest of the gang. “Drink up. Everything will work out well.”
They drank several more glasses in silence, and Frank thought Stevie was about ready to pass out until he started talking again.
“Reuben’s my friend,” Stevie slurred. He hadn’t had many friends in his life. Reuben had kept his word about sharing the money after he planned the stagecoach robbery. Stevie thought Reuben was smart, and he trusted him. That was more than he could say about his own brother. All Frankie ever did was use him to get information on where Morgan’s cattle were grazing. Frankie always left him behind. He didn’t know why he expected things to be different this time. “You don’t know what it’s like to have a friend you can trust.”
Frank laughed. “You think he’s a friend? He’d double-cross you in a heartbeat.”
Stevie drank some more. “Reuben’s not the one who would double-cross me.”
“What are you saying, Stevie?” Frank asked.
Stevie stumbled to his feet. “I’m saying I think you’re the one who double-crosses everyone.”
“You better watch it, little brother,” Frank said in a threatening tone. He poured more whiskey in his glass. “Drink your whiskey and let’s talk about Mexico.”
Slumping back into his chair, Stevie grabbed the glass and threw the contents back.
Frank poured the remainder of the whiskey into his glass. “Looks like we might need another bottle.”
Stevie took another large swig before he dropped his head to the table. “I know you took that money,” he mumbled.
“What?” Frank wasn’t certain he’d heard him correctly.
“Money. Gone.”
Frank heard him this time. “Do you have another bottle?”
Stevie tried to stand, but it took him a few times before he stopped wobbling. “It’s . . . bedroom.” He stumbled across the room.
When Stevie left the kitchen, Frank walked to the window. He saw a thin plume of smoke in the distance. Corbin had started the fire. A few seconds later, he saw another plume of smoke. Good for Corbin. He figured he’d set the fire at the farm in a few minutes. He wasn’t going to concern himself if Granny came with Rose. He’d have to improvise. He really didn’t care one way or the other what happened to Granny or Rose.
Hearing a crash from the hallway, Frank walked from the kitchen to see Stevie slumped to the floor. His holster and two bottles of whiskey were on the floor beside him. It looked like his little brother went in the bedroom for more than his whiskey. He tucked the bag of money under his arm and threw the holster over his shoulder. He picked up the whiskey bottles and walked to the front door. On the way out, he grabbed two kerosene lamps and smashed them on the floor. Glancing at the sky over Morgan’s ranch, he counted four plumes of dark smoke in the distance. It was time to execute his plan. He struck a match on the sole of his boot and threw it inside the house. The wood ignited quickly, and Frank walked slowly to the back of the house to wait.