Cooper's Wife

“Yes, sir.” She didn’t want to anger him. She thought of her daughter with her little fists wrapped in her skirts. Anna’s fingers felt wooden and clumsy, but she took a deep breath and forced herself to drop the remaining $5.37 into the empty canvas bag.

“That’s right.” The robber’s guns gleamed in the lamplight as he waved them at Tom. “Fill the sack, boy. Do it and I’ll let you live.”

Anna took a tiny step back. She felt Mandy’s tight hold on her skirts, felt the child pressing hard against the backs of her knees. She needed to get her daughter as far away from that gun as she could.

“Not so fast.” Almost laughing, that voice.

She studied the broad brim of the sweat-stained hat, the dust marks on the bandanna, the fine cloth of the robber’s shirt and trousers. Blue eyes met hers.

For one brief moment she thought she was looking into the eyes of a man she’d almost married. It hadn’t worked out between them. Could never work out. He wasn’t fond of children, and she wanted a large family. She wanted to give Mandy brothers and sisters to play with.

“I want the reticule, too.”

Oh, her nicest one. Anna’s heart sank. She unwound the string handle from her left wrist. Nothing of value was inside, just a small comb, a few hairpins and Mandy’s favorite hair ribbon. Not much to lose, considering.

Tom reached into his drawer and piled crisp bills on the counter. Anna dropped her reticule into the robber’s sack. Mandy stumbled, clutching Anna’s skirts. She laid a hand to steady the child. She did not like that this armed outlaw was only a few inches away from her daughter.

He watched her, watched all of them. She heard the tick of the clock on the wall, the rattle of old Mr. Fletcher’s watch chain as he stood in line, the squeak of the outlaw’s left boot when he shifted his weight.

“Hurry up,” he threatened Tom, waving his guns. He moved and again his boot squeaked.

Anna felt a prickle along the back of her neck, felt the cold knowledge low in her stomach. She cast her gaze downward and saw the shiny leather boots, brown and highly polished, scuffed along the left toe where he’d caught it on her sister’s loose porch step.

The man behind the mask, the man with the guns and the familiar blue eyes and voice was none other than Dalton Jennings. Her breath caught. She had to be wrong. Dalton was the shenff, a leader of the town.

A clatter of metal against the counter broke through her thoughts. The robber—no, Dalton Jennings—snatched up the half-full sack. He held it out, walking down the aisle, accepting watches, wallets and reticules, scaring one old widow woman out of her ruby wedding ring.

Anna had never felt so afraid. It was Dalton. She recognized his walk, a slight limp in his left leg from a once badly injured knee.

“Count to one hundred before anyone steps outside.” The second robber joined him, two huge money bags in hand. Together they pushed out the door. “I have an armed man hidden across the street to make sure you all know how to count.”

Anna tried to think what to do. Then the robber’s gaze latched on to hers. Her heart fell. Sweat broke out beneath the brim of her bonnet. Recognition thudded in the air, heavy like thunder. Dalton Jennings’ eyes narrowed, his gaze sharp on hers. A sensation passed between them.

Did he know that she recognized him? Fear tasted coppery in her mouth. Like a deer caught in a rifle’s sight, she waited.

Then Jennings strode away with his money. The door snapped closed. The bank owner and Tom rushed around making sure their patrons were safe. Mandy cried and Anna held her, debating what to do. No doubt the town sheriff would show up soon, dressed in his black trousers and black vest, sporting his tin badge, wearing those boots with the scuff mark on the left toe.

How could she face Dalton when he returned as the sheriff? Anna rocked Mandy, cradled the girl tight in her arms. Thank heavens she still had her money, tucked out of sight against her wrist.

The men robbing banks and stagecoaches in the Ruby Range area had killed before. People who could identify them, be they men, women or children. What would Dalton do to her when he returned?

She would go home and think of what to do.

Chapter One

“Bumpy, Mama.”

“I know, pumpkin.” Anna ached at the sight of exhaustion pinching Mandy’s button face, bruising the skin beneath her big blue eyes. “The stagecoach driver said we’ll be in Flint Creek before suppertime.”

The three-year-old sighed. Suppertime was so far away. Knowing just how she felt, Anna took the child on her lap and hugged her tight until she smiled.

Anna hadn’t dared to relax since their desperate flight from home. Was Dalton already on her trail?

But with each passing mile, Anna breathed easier. This was the third day of travel and no sign of trouble. Did she dare to hope that Jennings wasn’t following? Maybe, just maybe, she and Mandy were safe after all.

But despite her hopes, the worry tight in her stomach didn’t ease. Dalton wasn’t a man to forget.

“Too tight, Mama,” Mandy complained.

Anna loosened her hold on the child. What would happen to the little girl should Jennings find them?

The first sound of trouble came as a gunshot from outside the stage. The second was the scream of a horse. Was it Dalton? Fear pumped through her veins. The stage rocked fiercely to the right side, then limped to a stop.

What should she do? How could she protect Mandy? She glanced at the other travelers seated beside her and across the aisle. Would they help her? The banker who boarded the stage at Dillon mopped sweat from his brow with a monogrammed handkerchief. He didn’t look armed. But the ruffian seated beside him, who smelled of stale cigarette smoke and whiskey, hauled out a highly polished revolver.

“Don’t you worry, ma’am,” he said through gritted teeth. “I won’t let those no-good bandits do you harm.”

“Thank you, sir.” The gun looked deadly. Thank heavens he was on her side.

The stage door burst open. Anna choked, unable to scream. A masked man fired a gun. The passenger fired, then slumped over. Burly arms tossed the brave man and his gun on the dusty road.

They’d killed him. Shock washed through her. Anna couldn’t breathe. What was to become of them? She heard voices outside the stalled stage. They were laughing.

Laughing. How dare they? No one had the right to take joy in an innocent man’s death. Hot rage tore through her midsection. She’d seen just about enough of men’s violent ways.

“Get out,” a gruff voice ordered from the doorway.

Anna swung her reticule. It smacked the aimed revolver from the outlaw’s hand to the floor at her feet. “Stop this killing right now.”

Shock rounded his eyes. “Lady—”

“I said, enough.” She pushed at the scruffy brute’s chest. No one should be hurt because Dalton wanted her. “Where is he?”

A brutish laugh. “What kind of woman do we have here? I like a lady with some fight.”

Why was he laughing? Anna took one look at the cold glitter in the outlaw’s eyes, and her courage wavered.

Three other robbers stood on the road behind him, armed and mean-looking. They weren’t Jennings’ men. And now she’d made them angry. What would they do?

“This is the first thing I intend to take from you.” Cruel blue eyes laughed at her over the edge of a dirty red bandanna.

She gasped as the masked man tore the cloth bag from her wrist. A snap of pain bit her skin. Her money! This time it wasn’t tucked away in her sleeve. What was left of her life’s saving was dug out of the now ragged reticule.

A twisted gleam sparked in the villain’s eyes. “I’ll be back for more from you.”

He gave her a shove. Anna’s knees buckled and she lost her balance. Her shoulder slammed into the side of the coach. She hit the ground hard, tasting dust. Already the outlaw was reaching into the coach, sunlight glinting off the nose of his revolver. Mandy was in there, defenseless.

“No!” Anna launched forward, stumbled, then found her feet. She grabbed at the outlaw, pulling at his shirt. “Leave her alone. She’s my child. She—”