Page 16 of A Groom for Millie
Robert moved forward as he heard the woman cry. “Stop it, Carson,” he growled, moving in front of the passengers. “You got what you want. Now git.”
“I want my money.”
“I don’t have it.” Robert was clenching his jaw. He could feel the tension up through the top of his head. Flexing his fists, he wanted the gang to leave.
“Then you’ll just come with us. We’ll go to the next town and you can wire the money over.” Bart reached for Robert’s arm.
He quickly stepped back out of Bart’s reach. He had to think of something quick. “They can’t send it for at least a month.”
Bart was getting agitated. His hands were starting to shake and spittle crusted in the corners of his mouth. “Why not?”
Robert shrugged his shoulders. “Dunno. That’s just the rules, I guess.” He pointed to the reticule. “You already have all of my money, and the possessions of these good folks….”
Bart lunged forward. “Then I’ll take the boy.” He grabbed James from his mother’s grip and yanked him closer to the horses. Mrs. Martin gave a yell as Mr. Martin reached underneath his coat.
“Move your hand,” Bart said, pointing the gun at Mr. Martin. When Mrs. Martin moved forward, Robert pulled her back. “I said move your hand.”
Ben moved closer to the passengers. “Bart, we ain’t no kidnappers. Let the boy go.”
“Shut up!” The spittle flew across, hitting Ben in the chest. “Let me think.”
Mr. Martin brandished a pearl-handled pistol in the air. “Let my boy go,” he said as he fumbled with the gun.
Bart reacted instantly and fired his gun at his attacker. James’ father dropped his gun and clutched his chest, falling to the ground. Both women screamed and James broke free to run over to his father’s side.
“I’m outta here,” Vincent said scrambling onto his horse. “Let’s go boys,” he called to his brothers. The Myron brothers quickly mounted their horses and turned away from the stage. Bart followed, climbing on his horse.
“Give me my horses,” Bart yelled, reaching for the two animals Cedric was leading away from the stage. The cowboy was so focused on fleeing he didn’t respond. Robert saw Bart lift his gun and fire towards the young cowboy, missing Cedric.
Robert spied Par reaching underneath the bench and grabbing a shotgun. With expert precision, he lit the fuse and lifted the gun to his shoulder. A loud bang was heard and one of the cowboys went down.
“Stop!” Robert yelled. “You’ll hit my horse.”
“Don’t have time for robbers,” he said looking at Robert with cool golden eyes. “Or horse thieves.” He pointed the rifle at Robert.
“I didn’t steal the horse.” He moved towards the front of the coach. “Put your gun away, boy.” Robert put his fingers between his lips and whistled. Tanner pulled away from Cedric, yanking the young man to the ground before trotting back towards the stage. He saw a hint of a smile break on Par’s face. “Where’s the nearest town?”
“About five miles that way,” Par pointed with the rifle.
Robert nodded. “We’ll need to get there and find a doctor.”
“I’m not leaving without Cletus.”
If Robert found it odd that Par called his father by his Christian name, he didn’t say anything.
“Let’s get him,” he said, walking towards Cletus’s body in the snow.
Mrs. Martin was covered in blood. “They killed him,” she screamed. “They killed him.” When she saw Robert walk by, she looked at him with narrow eyes. “This is your fault,” she said, standing.
“I don’t know how it is my fault. I didn’t pull a gun on anyone.”
Mrs. Martin lunged for Robert as he passed her. “You knew those men. You knew what they were capable of.”
“Mrs. Martin, I’m sorry for your loss, but I had nothing to do with it.” He turned to Par, “We’ll need to tie Mr. Martin to the top.”
“No!” Mrs. Martin wailed. “He’ll go inside the compartment.”
Robert lowered his eyebrows. “He’s gone, Mrs. Martin.”
