Love on the Line - Deeanne Gist [143]
“Take a gander o’ that,” the one covering Lucious said. “Claims it’s his and he’ll let us have the bullets but not the pistol.”
The boss’s gaze went from the bone-handle carvings to Lucious’s face. “What’s yer name?”
“Lucious Landrum.” He smiled. “Would you like me to prove it?”
The question hung in the air, right alongside Luke’s pistol.
The boss stilled. “Who’s he with?”
“That gal over yonder. The pretty one with the five little girls.”
The boss glanced at Georgie, then back at Lucious. “Where’s the other pistol that goes with this one?”
“You never know,” Lucious answered, his voice dropping. “But he doesn’t like to be far from his woman and will go to any lengths—any—to protect her.”
The boss paled and exchanged a worried glance with his comrade. Neither made a move toward Luke’s pistol.
Georgie could see he was losing his patience. He’d come a long way from the man who charged in first and thought later. But he did have his limits.
“Why’re the robbers staring at Pa?” Tina asked.
Georgie looked down at their oldest, not far from the age of the girl who’d been at Georgie’s side that long-ago day she’d first laid eyes on the man who would become her husband. “They recognize your father and fear for their lives.”
“But there’s two of them and only one of Pa.”
“Yes.”
From the opposite end of the train, a group of men on horseback burst from the forest. “Get down!”
The command sailed above their heads and broached no argument.
Spreading her arms, Georgie brought the girls down with her. “Cover your heads,” she shouted, then glanced to the side.
The men who’d been with Lucious were without pistols, their hands in the air while he held them at gunpoint.
Good heavens, that was fast. She was sorry she’d missed it. It had been a long time since she’d seen him disarm a man.
Gunshots cracked above them like firecrackers.
“Mama,” Christine cried.
“Shhhh.” She reached over and squeezed one of the twins’ arms. “I’m right here, girls. Don’t worry, help has arrived. Just stay on the ground until they tell us we can get up.”
“Where’s Pa?” Jessamine sobbed, flinching after each shot.
“He’s part of the help. Don’t worry. Everything will be fine.”
As quickly as it started, the clash between the outlaws and the charging lawmen stopped.
“Can we get up?” Tina whispered.
“Not yet, but soon.” The girls scooted closer, their backsides lifting like inchworms. Georgie stretched her arms as far as she could reach.
“It’s okay, folks,” a young man shouted, his spurs clinking as he walked the line. “You can get on up now. Danger’s over.”
The dusty pair of boots stopped beside her. The jinglebobs dangling from the spur’s shank still swayed, though the man had quit walking. A thin, youthful hand came into her line of vision. “Ma’am.”
Grasping it, she rose, then shook the dust from her skirts. “Thank you.”
The girls bounced up beside her like jack-in-the-boxes.
Pushing the brim of his hat back, the young man grinned. “Hey. I recognize you. You’re that bird lady.”
She scanned the area, then saw Lucious shaking hands with some of the Rangers, clapping others on the shoulders. Once she’d ascertained he was hale and whole, she returned her attention to the lad. “How do you do, I’m Georgie Landrum.”
“Yeah. I know.” He touched his brim. “I’m Benito von Hiller. But ever’body calls me Hyena.”
She stilled, examining the eyes of . . . No, it couldn’t be. “Bett—”
“Benito. I’m part of the posse these Rangers put together this morning.” Benito’s gaze traveled over the girls. “Are all these yours?”
Joy at seeing Bettina filled her. Try as they had, no one in town had been able to tame the young girl or keep her from her tomboyish ways. Her father had died the year Georgie carried her first child. Shortly after von Schiller’s death, Bettina had stopped by the cottage to bid Georgie and Lucious good-bye.
“It’s time I moved on,” she’d said. “There’s a whole world out there and I have me a hankerin’ ta see it.”
“But you’re only eleven. Where will you go? What will you do? How will you eat? Wouldn’t