Untamed Journey by Eden Carson Page A

asked.
    “The message was from Marshal Abel Wyman.
He’s been working for the railroad ever since that robbery last
month where those folks got killed. Railroad doesn’t like dead
passengers – bad for business.”
    “Did they catch the men who did it?”
Masterson was furious that he’d have to interrupt his plans to go
fetch his new wife. Either she had gotten on the wrong damn train
or the fools he hired had bungled everything.
    Milo gasped for air as the huge man tightened
his grip and cut off the clerk’s air even more. “Please, please
mister. I’ll tell you everything. Here. See for yourself. The
telegram is in my pocket. I was just taking it over to the sheriff
when you walked in.” The clerk choked out the broken sentences
despite the crushing grip around his neck.
    Masterson pulled the scrap of paper out of
the man’s pocket and offhandedly dropped the man to the floor, as
he needed both hands to unfold the telegram. Masterson quickly read
the little info it provided:
     
    Train to Denver robbed near Ft Lyon. Seven dead.
Three robbers, two passengers, Engineer, one Marshal. Eight
wounded. Tracks damaged. Six robbers escaped. Marshals in
pursuit.
     
    Masterson crumpled up the paper and tossed it
aside before storming off to the stable to fetch his horse.
    He was furious he had to interrupt his plans
to go look for Ruth. But it wouldn’t do for his future place in
society to be seen abandoning his new wife just when she needed him
the most. He’d best put on a civilized show and ride to her rescue,
he thought. Make her feel safe.
    Then he’d drop her off at his ranch and see
what could be done about tracking down the fools he’d hired.
Assuming, of course, they survived the lawmen.
    His men had numbers on their side, but they’d
had that same advantage during the robbery. Masterson didn’t count
the tenderfoots from back East that always swelled the passenger
lists. They were next to useless in a fight, so he couldn’t figure
out how his men had lost the upper hand. But he was damned sure
gonna find out and get his fair share of the loot, too.
    The telegram didn’t mention what had been
stolen. Masterson just assumed they’d gotten away with something.
And God help them if they didn’t, he swore. Even though they’d
managed to hurt a few passengers, like he’d ordered, he had costs
to cover and more land to buy.
     
     

Chapter 16
    R uth huddled closer
to Caboose, not minding the scent of trail-weary horse nearly as
much as the lack of heat the minute she stepped away from the
Paint. Her newly acquired mount was a bit more particular,
apparently, as he head butted her away for the second time in as
many minutes.
    “Hey, watch it mister!” Ruth whispered at the
ornery animal. “I might not be as mean as Jasper Smith, but I’m
still standing between you and every kernel of grain in those
saddlebags.” Ruth yanked the saddlebags down and shoved the horse’s
head away with as much force as she could manage, though the effort
exhausted her.
    Her father always taught her to keep the
upper hand with horses. Ruth grinned, recalling that her mother
would say the same about men – with a wink, and always within
hearing of Papa. He’d laugh every time, and claim to be in full
agreement, at least where his daughter was concerned.
    Ruth rationed out a handful of grain, feeding
Caboose a few morsels at a time. Forcing an animal to hand feed was
another thing she learned from her father. Remembering him on this
cold, lonely night almost brought her to tears.
    Caboose licked her palm clear of every last
grain and nickered for more. The sound brought Ruth out of her
nostalgia. She had no time for it now, and certainly no energy to
waste on tears, Ruth admonished. She’d had more years on her own
than she cared to remember and she’d get through this one just the
same, she promised herself.
    Ruth brushed away her tears and started
gathering leaves for a bed. She wasn’t sure they’d provide