Untamed Journey Read Online Free PDF Page B

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    “Let’s ride.”
    “We can take these bastards.”
    “Settle down,” Mike advised. “Jackson’s
right. We can’t go riding in hot-footed with no cover and no plan.
They’ll pick us off one-by-one or just shoot a few passengers to
halt us in our tracks”.
    Jackson crawled back from the edge on all
fours until he was certain he wouldn’t be seen from below. As he
stood, he started laying out orders. “Mike. You and Emmett ride to
the far side of the train. Position yourselves to come up from the
back at my signal.” Jackson turned his steady gaze to the oldest
Marshal. “Wyman, you take the rest of the men and ride in closer to
that clump of trees. The shouting from the passengers should muffle
any noise you make. Wait there for my signal.”
    “And what will you be doing, Reb?” The young
New Yorker barely sprouting his first beard demanded.
    Jackson approached the speaker until a mere
six inches separated them. “I’m going down there. I can take out
one or two of the men quietly – improve our odds and offer some
protection for the passengers. When I signal, you come in hard and
fast.”
    Jackson stood his ground until the young man
turned away to fiddle with his perfectly maintained rifle.
    Once the last of the men reluctantly grumbled
acceptance of the plan, Jackson changed out his boots for moccasins
and headed out with one last order for his men.
    “Give me twenty minutes. No more.”
     
     

Chapter 12
    R uth awoke with a
start. It was pitch black, as she’d dozed off close to dusk. She
remained perfectly still, afraid to move, not knowing what had
pulled her out of a sound sleep.
    She heard the sound again, a small scraping
against the door and a man’s low-voiced curse. Someone was trying
to get through the locked door, she thought. Ruth saw the handle
start to move and heard the distinct sound of a key sliding into
the lock.
    Where is the pistol?
    She rolled to the ground, frantically feeling
around under the bed.
    Nothing .
    She thought she had put it on the tiny
nightstand while she worked on her sewing, but it wasn’t there
now.
    “God Damn it!��� a familiar voice cursed. “I
should’ve got me a light from that useless conductor.”
    Ruth froze when she recognized the voice of
Jasper Smith. He was crawling on the floor now, searching for the
stolen key in the dark.
    “There you are,” he crowed.
    Hearing his low cry of triumph, Ruth quickly
crawled out of bed, trying not to make any noise. She knelt on the
chilly floor and silently thanked God she’d decided to sleep fully
dressed. She felt along the floor and into the corners of the
sleeping compartment, but couldn’t find the pistol.
    More cursing and scuffling as Smith tried to
fit the key in the lock.
    Ruth wiped the sweat out of her eyes, not
understanding how she could be hot and cold at the same time. She
gasped for air as the door slid slowly open.
    “Well, lookey here,” he cackled. “You’re
already awake and on your knees – like you was waiting for me all
along.”
    His rotting teeth grinned at her in the pale
moonlight shining through the tiny train window.
    Seeing Smith close and lock the door behind
him spurred Ruth into one last frantic search for a weapon. A
terrible sense of calm settled her rapid breathing as her right
hand felt the cold metal of her missing pistol.
    Ruth had to clear her throat twice before
whispering. “Get out. You have no right to be here.”
    “Now the Law don’t agree, missy. I’m your
official husband now. I got papers that say so.” Smith fondly
patted his jacket. “Now, you and me both know you can scream and
cry all you want, and just maybe someone will hear. But it’ll be
too late. There ain’t no one in this whole train car but you and
me. I made sure of it.”
    He tugged at his belt and dropped his
pants.
    The sound of Smith’s brass buckle hitting the
floor spurred Ruth into action. She clambered up off the rolling
floor, yanking her gun with her. She