CHAPTER ONE

Having endeavored for quite some time to lead a life which would never, by anyone's standards, be considered dull, I find it rather amusing that I have fallen victim to the singular dullest epidemic of all: I have fallen in love.

With who, you ask? Ah, there's the rub. She doesn't love me back. It's the oldest story in the world, so pathetically unoriginal, and I, Rafferty Nolan, have always conspired to be original.

So robbing trains and stages isn't exactly what one might call 'original'...as such. But you must admit it's not a standard occupation. Well, it's more of a pastime, really. I do it for fun. Of course, the money's not bad. But I don't fancy the fear in people's eyes; that's the one thing I don't like about the job. People always look so scared. They see the guns and their eyes get huge, and that makes me feel just terrible. The first time it was a small stagecoach traveling to Sacramento. The woman took one look at my revolver and she screamed and fainted. I felt very guilty. So the next time I smiled.

The smile is the trick, you see. My own personal method of putting people at ease. You just fire the gun in the air, call a halt to the vehicle, and then when you pull alongside and see the terror in those poor people's eyes, you smile. Just like that. It's quite simple, really. The women like it especially. You should see them hand over their jewelry and cash. Sometimes they smile, too. Occasionally, a really brazen girl will wink. They always make eye contact. One woman, quite lovely, dressed in all manner of frills and lace, told me, "You have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen." I don't think her companion was too happy with that. Flirting with your attacker is hardly proper, is it?

Harry - he works with me - says he could never get away with it just by smiling. He's right, of course. We tried it one time, just to be sure. He smiled at the stagecoach driver and the man shot at him. He missed, but Harry's never tried that method since. I think the problem is that Harry's smile gives you the impression he's about to put a knife in your back. So now he just covers his face with a bandanna and points the gun and keeps quiet.

But all this isn't telling you about the woman I love. It's impossible to describe her, really. Words fail me. She's perfect in every way. Beautiful, fiery, independent, loyal. Eyes so velvety brown I could dive into them and swim around. A temper to match my own. In the short time I knew her - for it was a very short time, indeed - we had some glorious battles! I've never known a woman who made me feel so alive. She's gone now and I feel horrible. I'm mopey and moody and extremely cross. I've been snapping at Harry like a small dog every time he says or does anything. And all because of one woman. One very tiny, very perfect woman.

I suppose I should explain...

We spotted the two riders heading along the trail to Lockley and followed them past the town until we were about halfway between Lockley and McGovern Falls. They rode side by side at a leisurely pace, so Harry and I were able to take a bit of a breather.

"I'll take the little one," Harry whispered to me. I nodded in response.

"I like his horse, too. What do you think?"

I glared at him. "I think you should leave the boy his horse, you idiot! We've already got a bounty on our heads for robbery, do you really think we should add horse theft to the list?"

Harry shrugged sheepishly. He was a bit dim; not slow exactly, just not the brightest man I'd ever met. "I suppose you're right, Rafferty."

"Of course I'm bloody well right!" I hissed.

We continued in silence. Lunchtime was looming. The two riders ahead of us stopped for a moment and appeared deep in discussion. Harry and I stopped as well, waiting patiently.

"Tell me again why we're followin' them," he murmured.

I rolled my eyes heavenward and spoke in irritation. "They're Pony Express riders-"

"How can you tell, Raff?"

"By the mochila on their saddles. Good God, man, do you know nothing of the world around you?"

"All right, all right, don't jump all over me. I just asked. All right, so they're Express riders. What's that got to do with us? They're obviously not on a run or else they wouldn't be travelin' so slow."

"I have my reasons," I replied.

Harry shrugged and seemed to accept that response. I did have my reasons. One reason, actually: I was bored. Bored out of my mind. It had been over a week since we'd robbed anyone, and I find that it's a bit of a habit for me. If I don't get to do it, I become cranky and ill-tempered. I enjoy my work. What can I say? I'm a lucky man.

The two men climbed off their horses and began the process of building a fire. The taller of the pair removed his hat and wiped his sweaty forehead with his arm. His hair was a whitish-blond that reflected the glare of the sun. Harry and I dismounted and tethered our horses to the trees that hid us from the other men's line of view.

"I'm goin' to see if I can find us a rabbit or somethin', Lou," the blond called over his shoulder. "Mind gettin' that fire started?" I chuckled at the request he made of the small boy. The runt must have been used to being given the lesser of the chores, but by the look on his face he wasn't taking kindly to it.

"I'll get the fire started, Cody," he called in reply, "but I can't promise that you'll have somethin' for us to cook when you get back!"

I had to keep myself from laughing outright at that. Clearly the boy didn't just sit back and take what abuse was heaped on him. I looked at Harry and he was grinning at the thinly veiled insult.

We were crouched down behind some bushes that blocked us effectively from view. We watched for a moment as the boy began making the fire. I could feel Harry growing restless beside me. It was time.

"All right, on the count of three. You know the routine."

Harry nodded.

"One..."

We both readied our revolvers.

"Two..."

We straightened, rising to our knees.

"Three."

Harry and I stood at the same time and aimed our guns: Harry pointed at the boy, I fired into the air. The boy jumped ten feet high, a stick of wood flying to the ground. His hat flew off his head and he stared at us with wide eyes. I smiled.

"Don't worry, boy, we won't hurt you," I promised, letting my voice go low and smooth. "Just hand over the satchel and we'll be on our way." I smiled again.

"Like hell I will!"

Men are usually slower to respond to the smile.

"I mean what I say: we won't hurt you."

"I don't give a damn what you say. You get the satchel over my dead body."

I frowned. Quickly realizing my slip, I curled my lips upward once again. "Come on now, lad, is it really worth all that much?"

"What's it worth to you?" he challenged. "You don't even know what's in there!"

He had a point, but I wasn't willing to acknowledge that. "That's not the issue. Do you really think that in our line of work we can afford to find out what we're taking before we take it?"

The boy snorted. "If you had a lick of sense between you, you'd do just that."

I stared at him. I could feel myself growing furious. "You mouthy little runt. Just hand over the bloody satchel!"

He lowered his head and his eyes narrowed. "I said - over - my - dead - body," he enunciated carefully. I didn't hear the boy's companion approach, but Harry did. Thank God. I knew there was a reason I kept him around. Suddenly he whirled round and fired again. The blond man called Cody ducked quickly and effectively; the bullet whizzed past his head.

I turned to Harry. "Ace marksman, eh?" I couldn't help it. I should have kept my mouth shut, but it does have a tendency to run away with itself before I can rein it in.

"I just saved your sorry carcass!" exploded Harry.

"So you did," I said quickly, attempting to assuage him. "So you did, Harry. Thank you."

"Are you all right, Lou?" Cody shouted.

"I'm fine," Lou replied firmly. "These gentlemen were just attemptin' to relieve us of our parcels, Cody."

"Well, that's awful nice of 'em, but I reckon we can handle it ourselves," Cody drawled.

"Thank you just the same," Lou said, crossing his arms over his chest. Then he had the nerve to smile.

"I'll tell you what," Cody continued, "we're on a bit of an important trip just now, and we ain't got time for games like this. What do you say we tie you boys up real nice and pretty and escort you into McGovern Falls, and turn you over to the nice sheriff?"

The arrogant bastard. I had to laugh. "I don't think we fancy that idea much at all, quite frankly."

"Not a damn bit," Harry was compelled to add.

"I think we're at a bit of a crossroads here, gentlemen," I said. I gestured in the direction of Harry, who had his revolver pointed at Cody; then I gestured to Cody, whose gun was aimed at my forehead. "If we continue like this, either way you look at it we're going to be two men short...and then my partner Harry here, and young master Lou will be left to finish each other off. It doesn't paint a pretty picture, does it?"

"What are you sayin'?" asked Cody.

"Well," I shrugged, "I don't fancy killing anyone - I've never done it before and it seems rather messy. On the other hand, nor do I particularly relish the idea of being killed myself. I'm rather young and good-looking; I think I have a lot to live for."

I heard a chuckle escape from Lou's direction. Harry just looked amused.

I continued, "What I propose is that we call a truce. Harry puts down his gun, Mr Cody puts his down as well, and we all walk away like the civilized gentlemen we are."

Then Lou laughed outright. "Do you really think we'll agree to that?! Y'all are thieves! You probably got the law at your backs. Do you think we'll just leave you to terrorize the countryside?"

I had come to a decision. I didn't like it, but the boy was persistent. He wouldn't leave well enough alone. I said, "I was hoping I wouldn't have to do this, but you seem to be heading in the general direction of leaving me no choice."

My reflexes have always been fast. At school they called me Lightning Nolan. I withdrew my own weapon from the inner pocket of my jacket and lunged for Lou, my arms outstretched. Apparently his reflexes were just as good, for the moment my arms closed around him, I felt the blade of a rather large knife pushing through my left side. I screamed. Shots rang out. Lou screamed, a high, sharp wail, and I wrapped my arms about his neck, pulling him tightly up against me. Cody stood, his gun smoking, fear and horror on his face. Blood dripped down his shoulder. Harry was writhing on the ground with a matching wound. I held my gun to Lou's throat and felt him stiffen in my embrace.

"One more move, Mr Cody, and your young friend here dies. I may not care for the idea of killing a man, but I assure you I will not hesitate to do so if the need should arise. Now drop your weapon."

"Cody, don't listen to him! Shoot him!" Lou hollered.

I pressed the gun to his temple. "Quiet," I muttered. "You may be a brave lad, but I doubt even you would be so brave as to tempt a gun." Then I yelled at Harry, "Harry, can you ride?"

Harry groaned in agony, clamping his hand over his shoulder, his large body stiffening. After a moment he nodded. "I can ride," he said through gritted teeth.

"Then we'll be on our way, with master Lou here as collateral. If you follow us, Mr Cody, if I so much as see a cloud of dust that I think could be your horse, young master Lou will not be with us much longer."

It was amazing. I felt such rage, such powerful energy. Things had gone so horribly wrong, but it wasn't too late to make them right. I didn't want to kill the boy, and in truth I had no intent to, but he made a powerful checkmate in our deadly game of chess. I could see that Cody was desperate to keep his friend alive. He would do what had to be done.

"When the time comes," I said, "I'll release the boy - unharmed, quite safely. But first I must be certain that I am safe. It takes me quite some time to feel safe, Mr Cody, so I trust you will keep your distance for a couple of days. It would be a pity for your friend's death to rest on your shoulders. Harry!" I barked. "Are you ready?"

"I'm ready." He had risen to his feet and we began to simultaneously back up.

I dragged Lou along with me, his small feet unwilling. "If I were you I'd make a bit more of an effort," I warned him.

He was hesitant, I could see it in his dark eyes. But a second later he picked up his feet and matched our pace. His eyes were locked with his friend's as Cody grew further and further away. Then suddenly, as we had reached the clearing of trees where our horses were hidden, I heard an angry, frustrated cry: "Don't you hurt her!"

Lou froze. Harry and I stopped short. Her?

"Well, well, well," I said. "This could get interesting."