Page 50 of Wagon Train Melody
The sergeant made introductions. “Joe works for the Mounties. He’ll show you to the house. You—” He signaled to Rudy. “Come into my office.”
Alice bit back a protest. This was it? How they’d part? Shouldn’t it be a bigger event? After all…
She drew in a steadying breath. Now or later. In the end, it was all the same.
Rudy turned to Alice. “I’ll be along shortly.”
Her lungs expanded and filled with air. So much for persuading herself it didn’t matter.
She nodded as Joe took the reins and drove the wagon from the fort, past several businesses, and down a side street. He pulled up in front of a house and jumped down. “This is it, ma’am.”
Alice saw a simple, one-story house that had windows overlooking the street. The big yard showed signs of neglect. She couldn’t tell the size of the abode from where she was, but it would be their home, and they’d make the best of it.
She didn’t wait for Joe’s help in alighting but climbed down and rushed to the door. She knocked. No answer. Should she walk in? After all, this was to be her home.
She knocked again.
Joe sidled closer. “Clint isn’t going to answer. He’s gone.”
“Gone? Oh of course. He’ll be about his work. When should I expect him to return?”
“He left. Gone looking for gold. I ain’t expectin’ him back any time soon.” He swallowed hard. “If ever.”
Gone?
Her heart stalled. If Clint wasn’t there, she was on her own.
Not a muscle in her body heard or obeyed a non-existent command. Not a thought surfaced in her brain.
This was not what she’d expected.
What was she going to do?
CHAPTER 12
Rudy finished telling the Mountie what he’d seen and why he was on the run as the man before him made notes.
Realizing Rudy had finished, the Mountie leaned back. “The good news is a patrol from the south brought in a report yesterday. Seems there was a gunfight on this side of the border. Both parties were killed. The description of one sounds like your man. Big. Black hair. Worn gun belt.”
“Dead?” Big Al was dead? Rudy couldn’t make sense of the information. Finally, he let out a long breath. “Guess I figured he was too mean to die.”
The Mountie shoved the papers on his desk to one side. “Sure sounds like your man. Of course, there was no one to make a positive identification. Witnesses reported the big man rode into their camp and got mouthy. Someone called him out. And that’s how it ended.”
“I can’t believe it. I’ve been riding with my head turned to look over my shoulder for so long.”
“Well, I hope he’s the man. He doesn’t sound like a nice person.”
“He’s not. He wasn’t.” Rudy sat still, going over the information. No one could say if it was Big Al or not. And there were more than enough big men in the west with bad attitudes. “What if it wasn’t him?”
The Mountie pressed his palms to his desk. “We’ll certainly be watching for anyone who might be after killing you or anyone else for that matter. If he’s alive and shows up in our territory, he will be arrested and taken back to Fort Benton for trial. I guess if you’re still concerned, he’s on your trail you could stay at the fort where you’ll be relatively safe…”
Rudy considered the plan. He’d only be safe so long as he stayed within the fort. If he ventured out for any reason and Big Al was around, Rudy would be a living target. More than that, his presence would endanger Alice and the children. Big Al—if he was still alive--wouldn’t hesitate to use them to get to him. Any more than he would care if they got hit by one of his bullets.
Was it too much to hope that Big Al was dead?
But how could he be certain?
The Mountie continued. “Another option would be to head west, cross the mountains and disappear into the wilds. In fact, there is a patrol leaving on Monday. You could go with them as far as they’re going. From there you could venture further on your own. I doubt even Big Al would challenge a patrol.”
