Four miles from Dodge, the stagecoach passengers had been wearily looking forward to stretching their legs, eating at Delmonico's, blowing off steam at a saloon, or just heading home. None of them were going on any further, and all were grateful for that.
The old Kendall couple leaned against each other, napping, the dapperly dressed young Perry Crane sat with eyes half-closed, secretly admiring the lovely young red haired woman opposite him who was quietly talking with the curly-haired older man. The forty-five year old spinster, Phyllis White, sat next to Crane with arms crossed, frowning at the brazenly beautiful young woman with the sinfully red hair and tightly-tailored mauve suit over a pale pink low-cut blouse.
Suddenly the stage came to a sudden halt, jerking the startled passengers about, followed by a sharp rifle report. The coach door was yanked opened, and the bleeding driver was tossed inside to the floor.
The old woman screamed, and the others gaped at the driver as Doc immediately knelt down next to him with his medical bag that had been at his feet.
As Perry Crane peered out the window, he was jerked backwards as the stage was quickly turned around and started back the way they had come.
"Doc, how is he? Is there anything I can do?" Kitty leaned over Doc, trying to make herself heard over the clamor from the other frightened passengers.
"He's dead, Kitty. Never had a chance with that bullet to his heart."
Kitty helped Doc back to his sear as the rapidly moving coach swayed side to side.
One mile later, the coach once again came to a sudden stop, tossing the spinster into Kitty's arms. The horrified woman recoiled from the young woman, trying to ignore the kind smile on that face like an angel.
The door was yanked open, and a tall, dark, muscular man wearing buckskins stared in at them. A younger, slighter man, also in buckskins, stood next to him, eagerly looking in at the passengers.
Without a word, the two men hauled the dead driver out and slammed the door. Doc looked out the window as the driver's body was dumped by the road.
"YOU! Get your face away from that window unless you want to join this hero!"
Kitty grabbed Doc's arm and pulled him back. As she did, Perry Crane was feeling the derringer in the holster around his right ankle, pondering what to do.
About ten minutes later, the passengers were once again bounced around as the coach left the road and pulled off onto a rutted trail. Coming to a stop, this time when the door was opened, both buckskin-wearing men stood outside with rifles pointed at the coach. The young shotgun guard, Tim Scott, was atop the coach, tossing down the passengers' luggage. Then he jumped down and stood by the coach.
"Get on out here and be quick about it!"
The passengers looked at each other and began to come out. Perry climbed down first, then stood by the door, handing down the ladies. Then old Kendall man followed, then Doc with his medical bag.
"What's that ya got, old man?" The taller older man came over and tried to snatch Doc's bag from his firm grip.
"I'm a DOCTOR! I take my bag everywhere, and it seems that being around you two it might come in handy!"
"Hmmmm…you might be right, old man! Just don't give me any troubles or someone else may have to use it on you! Like your daughter here!"
The big man ran his dirty hand along Kitty's cheek, as she jerked away. She quickly put her hand on Doc's arm that was about to swat the man away.
"She's smart as well as pretty! She'll keep, for now." He gave her an evil grin as his dark eyes traveled up and down her body. Then he glanced at the nearby pile of luggage.
"All right, now! Everyone pick up your bags!"
Poking their rifles in their backs, the two men forced the passengers and shotgun guard to walk a short way down the trail to where a wagon and team was concealed behind bushes. Two saddled horses were tethered nearby.
'"Get that luggage in and get aboard! And hurry up about it! You! Shotgun! Get in the driver's seat."
Perry and Doc threw the bags up into the back of the wagon, with the three women and the old man helping.
Perry and Doc then helped the others up into the wagon, then Perry climbed in and pulled Doc up. Tim Scott sat up front holding the reins, looking over at the two strange kidnapper robbers.
Getting on his horse, the leader beckoned for Tim to take the wagon back down the trail a short way and then to turn east. The other buckskin man led the stage team back to the main road, pointed them towards Dodge and fired his gun a few times, causing the team to bolt back towards their familiar stables. Then he turned his horse and trotted after his older brother and the wagon.
The six passengers in the wagon didn't know what to think. The old couple huddled quietly together, the spinster sat with her arms crossed, frowning as usual, eying the beautiful young woman who was sitting holding hands with the old doctor, both with worried expressions, and the dapper young man sat a little apart, with his right hand over his right ankle, deep in thought.
They reached the Crooked Spur relay station about an hour later. Perry helped the others down from the wagon, knocking Doc's bag from his hand. As Perry reached down for it, he quickly pulled the derringer from his ankle holster and was shot in the stomach before he had even fully turned towards the brothers in buckskin.
"Good shot, Gus! That dude was awfully dumb and sneaky! Guess we shoulda searched him ." The younger brother grinned at Gus, and ran over to Perry, groaning on the ground and holding his stomach as Doc examined him.
Gus sauntered over, kicked Doc out of the way, picked up Perry and threw him over his shoulder.
"Theo, keep an eye on these people while I set this dude up for the Marshal."
Gus headed for the front porch of the shabby building.
Kitty had her arms around Doc as he sat on the ground catching his breath The old woman was crying in her husband's arms, Phyllis White was open-mouthed and staring, and the young shotgun guard clenched his fists in frustration.