24

Spending time locked up in an underground cavern with the sheriff was Brett’s idea of hell, but he was determined to make the best of it.

That was more than the sheriff tried to do. Instead, Keeler spent his time pacing the cavern and staring daggers at him.

“So, where are they?” he asked for perhaps the hundredth time in the last two hours.

Seated on the ground, Brett held his pocket watch close to the lantern light and checked the time. It was just a little after one p.m. “The stage should be arriving any minute now.”

That meant that in less than an hour, this should all be over and the Ghost Riders would be wearing steel bracelets. He hoped and prayed that Foster One was among them.

The scene was set. Deputy Sweeney was now in position. His job was to give chase. Once the Ghost Riders entered the underground cave, Brett and the sheriff would take over. Brett anticipated no problems. The element of surprise was on their side.

The hardest part was waiting. Not only did he have to ignore the sheriff’s caustic remarks, but he also had to keep pulling his thoughts away from Kate. Even in the dark gloom, he could picture her big, blue eyes and brilliant smile. At times, he even imagined her laughter and visualized the way she…

He groaned inwardly. Oh, no, you don’t. You’re not going there. Never again.

It was over. Whatever hold she had on him had to stop. By now, she and Foster should be at the theater. If Foster played his part as they’d rehearsed, Kate would soon be wearing his ring.

Over.

Grimacing, Brett shifted his weight. The ground was hard and seemed to grow harder with each passing moment.

The sheriff continued pacing. “What if they don’t show?”

“They’ll show,” Brett said, sounding more confident than he felt.

This time, the sheriff stopped pacing, a derisive look on his face. “And if they don’t?”

“Then we have a problem.”

The sheriff’s eyes filled with contempt. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means our plan wasn’t as foolproof as we thought.” Brett let that sink in a moment before adding, “You sure the telegraph sent to the express company was in code?”

“’Course I’m sure. What do you think I am? An idiot?”

“Okay, then. There’s no way that the Ghost Riders can suspect a trap.” Even the stagecoach driver didn’t know that the strongbox he was transporting was filled with rocks instead of gold coins. “Only you, me, and Sweeney know the full plan. If something goes wrong…”

The sheriff narrowed his eyes. “Go on.”

“Then one of us had to have spilled the beans. And I know it wasn’t me.”

“Are you suggesting that I—?”

Brett shrugged. “It had crossed my mind.”

Keeler frowned. “Had?”

“The other day when I told you to meet me here at this cavern, I found you wandering around looking for it. You had no idea where this hideout was. That seems to put you in the clear.”

Keeler greeted this news with a tight-lipped smile that failed to reach his eyes. “You aren’t suggesting that Sweeney—”

“You trust him?”

“Yeah, I trust him.”

Since they depended on Sweeney for backup, trust was good. “Okay then. We have nothing to worry about.”

The sheriff continued his pacing. After a long silence, he said, “I still think we should have tried to capture them during the actual robbery.”

“It’s easier this way,” Brett said. “And a whole lot safer.” This way, there was little chance of any passengers getting hurt.

He checked his watch again. If his calculations were right, three or maybe even four horsemen should come sweeping down the ramp in less than twenty minutes.

* * *

Kate boarded the homebound train from Austin ahead of Frank. Knowing how much he liked sitting next to the window, she chose the aisle seat. As much as she’d enjoyed the play, she was happy they were heading home.

She’d been frantic all day with worry, though she’d done her best to hide it from Frank.

If things had gone as planned, the Ghost Riders could very well be behind bars right now, and the citizens of Haywire would once again be able to rest easy.

She chewed on a nail. But what if something had gone wrong? Brett and the sheriff weren’t on the best of terms. And what if the Ghost Riders suspected a trap?

She prayed now as she’d prayed all day. Oh God, please keep Brett safe.

“Whew,” Frank said after settling in his seat and adjusting the window shade. “I thought all those curtain calls would make us miss the train.”

“See? I told you not to worry. We made it with time to spare.”

Resting her head on the back of her seat, she closed her eyes. It had been an excellent production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, the best she’d ever seen, and some of her favorite quotes from the play were still ringing in her head. One line especially kept running through her mind: The course of true love never did run smooth. She let out a long sigh. No truer words had ever been spoken.

The whistle blew, startling her back to the present. The train rolled forward with a jerk before gradually picking up speed. Soon, the scenery whizzed by in a blur outside the dusty windows.

She nudged Frank’s shoulder with the tip of her folded fan. “Thank you for everything,” she said. It had been obvious how much Frank hated the play, but he’d been a good sport and hadn’t complained. He’d even managed to laugh and clap at the right times, though she could tell his heart wasn’t in it.

When he failed to respond, she asked, “You okay?” He’d hardly spoken a word since leaving the theater.

“Yeah, sure, I’m fine.”

“It wasn’t too awful for you? The play?”

“It was worth it, knowing how much you enjoyed it.”

“I did enjoy it,” she said, but the theme of appearances versus reality had hit close to home. As much as she’d enjoyed the play, it’d had an unsettling effect. She pulled her fan away and tucked it in her purse. “Lately, you’ve said the nicest things. It’s almost as if…”

His gaze sharpened. “What?” he asked. “It’s almost as if what?”

She tried putting her thoughts into words. “Like you’re…two different people, and I don’t know which one is real.”

His eyebrows rose like half-moons. “I’m real,” he said, pinching his arm through the sleeve of his shirt to demonstrate. “See?”

“You’re completely missing the point,” she said with a sigh.

“Don’t you like this new me?” he asked.

“Yes, of course. But it takes some getting used to,” she admitted.

She kept waiting for him to fall back into his old ways, but he hadn’t even gotten jealous when the conductor smiled at her. Or at least not that he’d let on. He’d simply shoved his hands in his pockets and whistled like he hadn’t a care in the world. Though to be honest, his annoying new habit of whistling was beginning to get on her nerves.

Kate shifted her gaze to the window. She’d accused him of not trusting her; now she was the one unable to trust him—or at least the new him—and for that, she felt bad.

They rode in silence for several minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. Next to her, Frank kept checking his watch.

The crimson sun slowly sank, staining the western sky a vivid red. Shadows yawned and stretched over hill and dale. Frank seemed to grow more restless with each passing moment. He jiggled his leg, tapped his fingers on the armrest, and kept looking out the window.

The gentle motion of the train had put the baby across the aisle to sleep on her mother’s lap. Now, the only sounds were the murmur of low voices and the clickety-clack of train wheels against iron rails.

Kate’s eyes drifted downward. She was about to sink into slumber when something startled her. Her eyes flew open. Much to her surprise, Frank had left his seat and was kneeling on the floor in front of her, a serious look on his face.

Thinking something was wrong, she sat forward. “Frank, what is it?”

Seeing the ring in his hand, her mouth dropped open. Was he really going to propose to her here? On a crowded train?

Glancing at the other passengers, she whispered, “Frank, I don’t think this is a good idea.” She wasn’t even sure she was ready to give him an answer. At least not the one he obviously expected.

Ignoring her concerns, he pulled off his hat and set it on his empty seat. “Katie…” He cleared his throat and pulled a scrap of paper from his shirt pocket. He quickly scanned it before beginning again.

“Katherine Anne Denver,” he began, surprising her. She couldn’t remember him ever saying her full name.

Looking as serious as an old cat, he continued, “I love everything about you. I love the way you smile, the way you make me smile. I love the kindness you show to others—”

Touched by his words, Kate covered her mouth with her hand and gazed at him through misty eyes.

Frank’s eyes widened in alarm. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s just”—she brushed away her tears—“you’ve never said anything that nice to me before.”

He jerked his head back. “Sure, I have. What about the time you changed the wagon wheel? I told you that a man couldn’t have done it any quicker.”

“Well, yes, there was that.”

“And I praised you to high heaven when you caught that twelve-pound bass.”

“Yes, yes, you did.”

“And don’t forget how I complimented you for winning the yodeling contest at last year’s county fair.”

She leaned forward. “What I meant to say is that I didn’t expect you to say such nice things here. On the train.”

He pulled out his handkerchief and mopped his brow. “Is it okay if I continue?”

“Well…” She glanced around, but the other passengers were either sleeping or had their heads buried behind newspapers. She looked back at him. He looked so earnest, so hopeful, that she didn’t have the heart to tell him no. Yet neither could she tell him yes. Not while the memory of another man’s kiss was still so fresh in her mind.

Evidently taking her silence as acquiescence, Frank replaced his handkerchief and studied the scrap of paper in his hand. “Katherine Anne Denver, I love…”

Kate listened in disbelief as Frank cited everything about her from her hair to the way she wrinkled her nose. Never had she imagined that he could be so sensitive. He made her brassy-red hair sound like gold, and her freckles… Oh my, he even had something nice to say about those.

How could she not have known that he thought this deeply? Cared this much. “Oh, Frank,” she whispered.

“Wait. I’m not done yet.” He held up the ring. The setting sun turned the diamond into a flash of white fire.

“Katie. I mean Katherine Anne Denver…”

Someone shouted, drowning out his next words. Kate craned her neck to see over the heads of the other passengers. At first, she didn’t see anything, but then everything changed. Three men with flour sacks over their heads ran down the aisle, brandishing guns.

Watching in horror, Kate drew back, hand on her mouth. Still kneeling in front of her, Frank asked what was wrong, but before she could answer, one of the bandits stopped by her seat. He pointed his weapon straight at Frank’s head.

Kate gasped, and a shiver of panic raced through her. “Oh, please, don’t hurt him!”

“I’ll take that,” the bandit said, voice muffled, and just like that, he snatched the diamond ring clear out of Frank’s hand.