Hello again!

Okay, so I know I said I would post this "tomorrow" but I just couldn't help it! (I really want to see your reactions to this part.) Besides, I posted 2 chapters late, so why not another one early? (And it's almost tomorrow ...)

Because I am too tired to think of a good dedication, I'm going to give this one to my cats: Peanut and Ninja (who are currently sleeping on either side of me). Yay kitties!

Thanks again to my wonderful betas, The Wild Whovian and Andamogirl, for putting up with my starts, stops, and randomness.

Enjoy ...

Chapter 10

Olivia sat on the bench in the water closet, trying desperately to pick the lock on her wrist with a nail file. No luck. If only she had a hairpin … and about ten minutes or so to use it. She really needed to work on her lock-picking skills. The agent probably had something that could do it, but if he did, it wasn't in his pocket. She looked up to the crack in the door where she could see a sliver of his back as he kept anyone from walking in on her – or her from sneaking out.

Darn him.

These agents were a lot harder to lose than Father's men, or even the Marshal's. They must have known she wouldn't try for Chicago again and discovered that New Orleans was her second choice. Clever, clever agents. Maybe she could use their own tricks against them. Reaching into her pocket, Olivia checked to see what she had managed to lift off her jailer while they were on deck. The jeweler's glass was useless and the matches wouldn't do her much good either. The silver ball was a curious thing – she'd never seen anything like it before – but wasn't sure if it could help her.

"Ah!" she yelped as the ball slipped from her fingers and exploded on the floor.

Instantly the room began to fill with smoke and Olivia found herself growing weaker. She tried to call out for Mr. Gordon, but couldn't stop coughing long enough to form the words. However, he must have heard the ball pop because she could hear him cursing just before strong hands lifted her up and everything went black.

The next thing Olivia knew, she was laying on something soft with a splitting headache and what felt like a mouth full of cotton. What happened? She tried to get up, but the hammers in her head kept it on the pillow. Next she tried opening her eyes and discovered that the hammers didn't like that either. Perfect.

"Just take it slow," a gentle voice advised as a shadow moved to block the nearest light.

"Mr. Gordon?" she whispered, squinting up at him.

It took a minute to remember that the agent was blond today, not to mention why. Though, surprisingly enough, she found herself in one of the riverboat staterooms instead of the brig. Not that she was complaining, but after her latest escape attempt she didn't think he would be taking any chances.

"Here," Mr. Gordon offered, holding out a glass of water.

She sat up to reach for it, noticing the chain was still locked around her wrist. Apparently he wasn't taking any chances after all. On top of that, it might have been hard to explain to the crew why he was shackled to a little girl – but it might have been fun to watch him attempt it. The cool drink helped to clear her head a little, but she still felt funny and settled back against the pillows.

"What was that stuff?"

"That, my dear, was knockout gas," Mr. Gordon answered. "In the future I would appreciate it if you kept your fingers out of my pockets, lest you accidentally lose one."

While he was obviously unhappy with her, the agent's tone made it clear that his words were far more warning than threat. Olivia got the feeling that the man carried other things on him that were a lot more harmful than knockout gas. Curious as she was, the girl made a heartfelt promise never to take anything out of his pocket again.

"What happens now?" she asked, managing to sit up and stay there. "You gonna lock me up?"

"No more than you already are," he answered, looking out the window. "We'll be pulling into the next stop soon. You and I are getting off and going back to St. Louis."

"And Mr. West?"

"Oh, he'll be waiting for us at the dock."

Sure enough, an hour later they got off the riverboat and there was Mr. West – with two horses. Olivia forced herself to remain calm; her ride from the Marshal's office was still haunting her memory. She couldn't show fear – fear was a weakness and weaknesses were exploited. However, she could only make it as far as ten feet from the beasts before she firmly planted her feet on the ground.

"What is it now?" Mr. Gordon asked.

"I have to ride that thing again?"

"Don't worry," Mr. West said with a smile, swinging himself out of the saddle. "You can ride with me this time."

Olivia looked up at the other horse and took a step back. It was like a monster of black with specks of silver. The agents noticed her hesitation and shared a look. Uh-oh! She had better come up with something to say before they figured it out.

"I'm not getting on that; it looks like death," Olivia stated as firmly as she could. "I'd rather take my chances with the other one."

Once again the agents shared a look, and Mr. West knelt down to look her in the eye. It was all she could do to put on a brave face as images of those hooves plagued her mind. He seemed to see straight through her mask and frowned.

"Olivia, are you afraid of horses?"

"No!" she shouted, just a bit too quickly. "I'm not afraid; I just … I just don't like them."

Who would after seeing a man fall off and get trampled? All broken up and covered with blood – she shuddered at the memory. That horse had been black too, but with a white foot. It didn't stay white though …

"Come here," Mr. Gordon said gently, leading her to his horse.

He kept his arm around her shoulders and the contact helped – a little. Then the agent lifted her up and placed her in his saddle. With a little shriek – which probably sounded more like a squeak – she grabbed the saddle hold and held on for dear life, screwing her eyes shut and praying this nightmare would end. A few seconds later, she felt Mr. Gordon right behind her and a strong arm wrapped around her waist.

"It's all right," he whispered. "I won't let you fall."

She latched onto his arm with one hand, while gripping the saddle with the other and felt a little better – she wasn't about to open her eyes, but she did feel better. A short time later, Mr. Gordon announced that they had arrived. Olivia peeked out to see the train and Mr. West holding up his arms to her. She reached out and he swept her off the horse, planting her feet lightly on the ground.

"Now that wasn't so bad, was it?"

Olivia looked up at him and smiled.

"No, because his horse is not the Grim Reaper."

Mr. Gordon laughed as he dismounted, handing his reins to their engineer – or at least, Olivia was pretty sure that was who he was. Mr. West did the same and the three of them headed back into their luxury train car while the engineer took the horses to the other one. Soon they were speeding off to St. Louis again.

Speeding away from Papa.

So, how do you feel about Miss Olivia now?

UP NEXT: The truth (FINALLY!) comes out ... I'll try to get it up around lunch tomorrow. In the meantime, I look forward to your comments/feedback.