A Wanted Man Read Online Free

cheek. Blood trickled beneath her fingers.
    The train, its massive momentum finally spent, rolled to a stop. The car gave a final lurch, unsettling the two men standing, causing the nearest bandit to fling out his hands in reflexive balance.
    The opening was brief. Hiram surged to his feet, a quick whoosh of motion. An instant later the robber recovered, bashing Hiram’s head with the butt of his pistol. Hiram went down like a rock, back into his seat. His arms flopped loosely, booted legs sprawling until one toe touched the hem of Mrs. Bossidy’s dress.
    Her lip curled. “One would have thought that noggin of his was too hard to be damaged by a mere rap.”
    The mild-faced robber tsked . “Shouldn’ta moved.” His gaze flicked to the two women. “Well, now, I imagine the two of you will have somethin’ for us, won’t ya?”
    Mrs. Bossidy flung herself sideways, pressing Laura back against the seat, shielding her with her body. “You’ll get nothing from her without going through me first. And I vow to make that such a difficult task that it will not be worth your while. Not at all.”
    He flashed a set of even teeth. “Promise?” Then he raised his voice to carry throughout the car. “Listen up, folks. Pretty easy, here—anything you got that’s worth anythin’, toss it in the bag as the preacher goes up and down the aisle. Some of our friends are up front with the engineer, and stationed throughout the train just like we were, and all in all it’ll be the smartest thing to get it over with as soon as possible. You can try and hide somethin’, but I wouldn’t. It’ll only make us hafta look for it.” He looked directly at Mrs. Bossidy as he continued, “Come to think of it, go ahead and try.”
    Laura tried to nudge Mrs. Bossidy back into place. No luck; she was a lot sturdier than she looked.
    “Preacher? Get started.”
    Preacher slid one of his guns into the holster hidden beneath his black coat and pulled out a sagging canvas bag. He looked down as he shook it open…and never looked up. The door behind him burst open. He wheeled halfway around as a body rocketed throughthe door, driving him down to the floor. One of his guns fired, the blast deafening in the small space. Paneling shattered, bits raining down from the hole where the bullet slammed into the ceiling.
    Impressions flashed, too many for Laura to capture: the bland-faced robber spinning to see what had happened at the doorway; Hoxie surging out of his seat, vaulting over the back, and tackling him in the aisle; men leaping from all directions as if they’d been awaiting the opportunity, now unleashed, shouting, arms flailing.
    Unthinkingly, Laura shoved Mrs. Bossidy away and stood, craning her neck to see.
    Preacher was on the floor, facedown and spread-eagled, a knee on his back and a gun to his head.
    It was him. Him . The dark man who’d disappeared from the back platform had somehow come through the front door and subdued the robber in an instant.

Chapter 2

    “G et down.” Mrs. Bossidy yanked on her skirt.
    “Don’t worry,” Laura told her. “Everything’s under control.”
    And indeed it was. A half dozen men surrounded each robber, fists clenched, belatedly prepared to play the hero. It was entirely unnecessary; the dark man had the preacher thoroughly subdued, and Hoxie had apparently knocked the other one out cold.
    “Need any help back there?” His voice was low-pitched, smooth as melted chocolate. Laura had expected it to be rough, as harsh-sounding as the rest of him appeared. But it was warm, carefully modulated, the kind of voice made to murmur of love and secret things, a voice that might recite poetry and issue orders with equal ease.
    “Nope,” Hoxie answered cheerfully, climbing to his feet. “Two jabs and a left hook and he went down harder’n Glass Jaw Gillespie.” Rocking back on his heels, he cracked his knuckles, more energized than Laura had ever seen him.
    The man nodded. “Anyone got some