Page 49 of Follow the Lonesome Trail
“Yeah, why didn’t you come out and check why the stage had stopped?” Jimmy demanded. “That didn’t strike you as odd in the slightest?”
“Well, no, not particularly.” The lady shook her curls. “Drivers need rest stops on occasion, sweetie. Wouldn’t be terribly proper to keep eyes on him if he had to…” She gave a demure little cough. “Anyway, I mind my business.”
“We got business of our own,” Jimmy said gruffly. He squared up his shoulders in an attempt to look like a man in charge. This job had taken an odd turn, no doubt about that, but it wasn’t too late to take back the reins.
“Of course you do. You’re robbin’ the stage.” The girl’s voice practically oozed sweetness, like she’d been raised to be polite to the Devil himself if he were to show up for tea. “I’d turn over my valuables, but I’m afraid I haven’t brought any with me. I sold most everything to afford the journey out here. Oh! I do have this though. Go on now, don’t be shy!”
Jimmy couldn’t tell where she produced it from—a hidden pocket or bag, maybe—but suddenly she was holding out a pasty square of hardtack, offering it to Frank like someone trying to befriend a wild animal.
“Thanks, uh, but we’re actually just here for the mail,” Frank said, but Jimmy noticed he accepted the hardtack anyway. He even gave the corner a polite nibble.
It was obvious Frank was going to be no help where Miss Porcelain Doll was concerned. Jimmy frowned, running options through his mind. They’d have to get rid of her, obviously, and do it without harming her. They’d sworn to their client that there would be no blood. Their payout depended on it. Yes, she’d seen them, but maybe that wasn’t the end of the world. Get enoughlaudanum in her, and she might just remember the holdup as a strange, fuzzy dream.
“Here, Frank, why don’t you offer the nice lady a drink. I’m sure she’s parched.” Jimmy slung his canteen off his shoulder and passed it to his partner. Once the gal had sipped her way into a swoon, they could dump her in the pine needles next to the stagecoach driver and be safely rid of her.
“Didn’t expect you outlaw types to be such gentlemen.” The lady bobbed a tiny curtsey as she accepted the drugged canteen. She didn’t drink it immediately, which irked Jimmy. Instead, she pulled a brilliantly clean handkerchief, embroidered with tiny pink rosettes, from another invisible pocket. She set to wiping down the mouth of the canteen, meticulously enough to be insulting.
“Maybe you can help us out, to return the favor,” Frank said, not seeming to mind. “You don’t by chance know which of these parcels has the Hampton Ruby in it, do ya?”
“Shut your trap, Frank!” Jimmy snapped, but it was too late to snatch the words and stuff them back in Frank’s big, stupid mouth. He would’ve smacked his partner’s head right then and there, if something from deep in his upbringing hadn’t whispered a warning not to start fights in front of a lady.
“Why, of course I do, honey, that’s me.” She gave them a smile warm enough to melt butter. “I’m Ruby Hampton, formerly of Georgia, currently of…” she trailed off and glanced about, as if noticing her surroundings for the first time. “Beggin’ your pardon, boys, but where am I now?”
“Little ways outside of Silverstone, Colorado, ma’am,” Frank replied eagerly, his words nearly tumbling over each other. Forget melting butter; a single smile had melted Frank McCoy!
Jimmy didn’t even have the heart to be angry at Frank for his silliness.
“Ruby Hampton?” Jimmy repeated, feeling like he’d been punched in the gut. “Your name isRuby Hampton?”
The lady’s coy eyelashes fluttered. “Sure is, sugar, but don’t wear it out.”
Jimmy couldn’t put his finger on exactly why, but as soon as he heard her name, he got the sickening hunch that he wouldn’t ever be seeing that hundred dollars.
Ruby Hampton, oblivious to the fact that she’d just thrown a stick of dynamite into their perfect, foolproof plan, tucked her handkerchief away and lifted Jimmy’s canteen to her lips.
“Wait, don’t drink that!”he shouted. Ruby and Frank both started, but at least she had the good sense to put the drink down. Jimmy wasn’t about to let her knock herself out until he got some answers.
“Shoot straight with me, sister,” Jimmy said, snatching the canteen out of her hand and shoving it back toward Frank. “This here’s the mail stage. No passengers planned at any stop. You ain’t supposed to be here. Are you some kinda stowaway?”
“Of course not,” Ruby sniffed primly, sounding a little bit hurt.
“You a smuggler, then?” Jimmy pressed. “Cause if you’ve got a ruby sewn into your ruffles, we need to know about it.”
“There’s only one Ruby in this dress, and she’ll stay inside it, thank you very much.”
Frank at least had the decency to blush, but Jimmy narrowed his eyes.
“You boys said it yourself, this is the mail stage,” Ruby insisted. “I’m mail. Paid postage and everything.”
Jimmy frowned. He stuck his head back into the stagecoach and glanced around. Sure enough, there were no passengers. Just parcels and bags of letters, like any sensible mail-delivery coach. He turned back to Ruby and scowled at her.
“Never heard tell of sending a person by post, less’n it’s in a coffin.”
Frank whacked Jimmy. “Don’t talk like that in front of the lady!”
Of all the things to get up in arms about! “Frank, the lady thinks she can stick a postage stamp on her nose and call herself a letter!” Jimmy pushed his partner away. “I don’t think she’s a stranger to crazy talk.”
“Look here, mister,” Ruby cut in, planting her hands on her hips. A touch of the sweetness had left her tone, which Jimmy found that he preferred. “My arrangement is perfectly legal, and I amnotcrazy.”
