Chapter Seven
Rachel woke the next morning to find the other half of the bed beside her empty. To say it was only early and the sun had barely lifted up across the horizon, it was already incredibly warm. The bed sheet was immediately kicked away by Rachel's feet.
Charlie soon re appeared around the door, scratching away at his strawberry-blonde beard. "It ain't much past dawn. Go back to sleep," he instructed, walking across the room and getting in bed beside her. The bed creaked as his body weight hit it, and gradually the bed adjusted back to both their weights.
The outlaw's bladder had finally been relieved and he was able to drift back to sleep. It usually didn't take much time or effort for Charlie to go to sleep. He was usually out and about, going on raids and generally stealing whatever he could get his hands on, so some days sleep was only brief. As his pale green eyes fluttered closed, Rachel turned over to face him and studied his face. Her eyes surveyed each of his features: his long nose, rose bud lips which peeped from beneath his beard and his slender face.
No matter how many times Rachel closed her eyes, prompting herself back into sleep mode, her mind would just not switch off. She knew full well that the outfit were heading to a raid. From her limited knowledge of the Wild West and Westerns, she knew that wasn't a particularly good thing. Innocent people would no doubt be killed just so Wade and his men could fill their hands with money. But what exactly did they spend this money on? Rachel eyed Charlie's orange pants as his legs were slung over the bed sheets, and then she gazed over his white leather jacket on the end of the bed. His clothing was decent enough, but not the most expensive. Surely with the amount of raids these men went out on, they'd have enough to keep them all rich for the rest of their lives, so why did they continue? Rachel couldn't understand why someone would want to choose a life like this. It made her think back to her years in England when people would live off benefits, hating the very thought of earning their living.
A little time passed and a clock chimed from somewhere in the upper levels of the house. Its deep resounding chime told Rachel that it had just gone six in the morning. Somewhere from one of the other rooms, Rachel could hear people stirring. Beds and floorboards creaked loudly. Then the gentle tapping of boots upon the wood followed.
Charlie snored loudly, waking himself with a jump. For a couple of seconds he looked truly startled, staring around the room as if he didn't know where he was. "You alright?" Rachel asked, sitting up in the bed and crossing her arms. But Charlie never answered. Bewilderment still danced upon his face. It gradually faded, and he yawned loudly, brushing a hand through his dirty blonde locks of hair. As his green eyes scanned the room, Charlie soon realised where he was and sat up on the edge of the bed.
"I wonder if we'll have breakfast too," Rachel commented, getting up out of the bed and walking around to where Charlie was sitting. She didn't have to be psychic to see that something was bothering him. A whole sea of emotions washed across his face. "Are you alright?" Rachel asked, growing concerned for him. She placed her hand gently on his shoulder, brushing her fingertips ever so gently across his bare skin.
His mind was on the raid. It meant risking Rachel's life. But should he tell her? Charlie's loyalty to Ben Wade had always been strong, however, when he looked into Rachel's eyes he couldn't allow any harm to come to her. He knew that now. Since meeting her out in the wastelands he'd protected her and had promised himself that he'd continue doing that as long as she was here, in this time and place. "Ah'm fine," Charlie replied. "Ah…just…." No matter how much he thought over the words in his mind, they just wouldn't come out. How could he go against the Boss? On the other hand, how could he sit here and watch Rachel be used?
What's happenin' to you, Charlie? She's softenin' you real good. But she's only a young girl. Ah need to get her away from here.
Charlie quickly rose from the bed and grabbed his red shirt, pulling it on around his shoulder. "Get dressed!" he instructed as a plan formulated in his mind.
Rachel looked at him, her dark eyebrows furrowing. "What's going on?" she asked.
"Shh," Charlie told her again. "Just get dressed and be quiet."
"I am dressed," Rachel said simply. "I went to bed in this last night."
"Mmkay. Follow me and be quiet. Not a single word caus' ah know you can't keep ya trap shut." With that, Charlie smiled at her. Rachel returned his smile, sensing a newfound respect that had formed between them somewhere along the line.
One behind the other, Rachel and Charlie traced the hallway, trying not to step on any creaky floorboards. They could hear Kinter and Jackson arguing with one another in one room, and loud snoring from another. Rachel stopped suddenly as she heard embarrassing sounds from the end room. One of the men was obviously enjoying himself with a member of the opposite sex. Her cheeks flushed bright red as she looked at Charlie who seemed to have also heard the moans, groans and bed springs. He just smirked and continued on towards the steps leading down. It must have been the middle aged woman's daughter because there weren't any other women that Charlie knew of in the house.
"Come on," Charlie whispered, gesturing for her to follow him.
"What are we doing?" Rachel asked, stopping on the stairs suddenly. Charlie stopped dead in his tracks and turned back to face her. With a sigh, he answered.
"Just come outside with me and ah'll tell you."
Rachel remained silent from then on and walked slowly out of the back door with Charlie. No one seemed to be about that time of morning. The house was quiet, a little too quiet for Charlie's liking. As he and Rachel stepped out into the gathering warmth of the early morning, Charlie glanced up, his gaze tracing each window in turn. He hoped no one was watching.
"You have to get away from here, Rachel," Charlie said simply, turning on his heel to face her. He looked down at the dirt on the ground, hanging his head so his eyes became eclipsed by his hat.
"What's going on, Charlie?" Rachel asked. "Please tell me."
Biting his bottom lip, Charlie began to speak. "They others wanna use you as a diversion when we raid the coach today takin' money to the office in Millville. It means puttin' your life on the line, and ah'm not gonna watch that happen."
"So you pretty much want me to make it look like I run away?" Rachel asked, cocking her head to the side and placing her hand on her hip.
"Exactly. This isn't the life you should be leadin' with us," Charlie told her, his eyes scanning her face. As each day had dawned with Rachel in his protection, she'd grown more beautiful through his eyes.
"I'm not going, Charlie," Rachel replied. Her eyes were full of sincerity and silent strength. The way she crossed her arms showed determination. "You've looked out for me since I came here, and I….," she broke off in mid sentence. Her cheeks flourished with just the faintest hint of a blush. "I trust you, and only you."
"But if you stay and go on the raid, they could turn on you….anythin'."
"And what if I ride off and happen to run into another group of outlaws on the run, but they aren't as friendly to me as you've been?" Rachel smiled weakly at him, squinting through the strengthening sunlight. "I'd feel safer with you."
Charlie was speechless. She trusted him? Deep down he knew that he couldn't do any wrong against her. He owed her this much, to do what she asked of him. Let her stay in his company. "Ah promise that ah'll take care of you, and we'll find a way for you to go home," he said finally.
Back in the house sometime later after Charlie and Rachel had waited for some kind of signal from the rest of the outfit, everyone gathered and trailed down the stairs. Wade looked across at Rachel, noticing how close she always remained to Charlie, and quite honestly, he didn't blame her either. Charlie Prince was one of the best shots he'd ever seen- rarely missing his intended target. He also had a fiercely loyal heart to those he let in.
In the yard, everyone mounted their horses after the young man of the house got them all from the stables. As Rachel got up onto the horse, sitting behind Charlie, she felt his gun press against her leg in the pocket of her baggy pants. "I think I need to get a holster to put this in," she said, tugging a little on Charlie's jacket.
"Once we're in town, ah'll get you a belt and you can have mine," he replied softly, feeling her arms tighten around his middle. They rested just above his stomach, but the sensation sent strange signals to other parts of his body. Charlie closed his eyes a moment, trying hard to push the signals away and pulled on the reins.
They were off.
The outfit galloped on towards the main road leading into Millville which would no doubt be the route the coach would take to deliver the money. The heat began to gather momentum as they rode along, following Wade's lead. Rachel noticed that they steadied their pace and gradually slowed down as they came to a broad dirt road.
Wade was the first to dismount his animal. He jumped down, his feet slamming into the hard earth. "Rachel!" he called, looking across to her. She swallowed hard and slid from the saddle, almost stumbling over. Her legs felt so weak beneath her out of sheer nervousness paired with her thundering heart. Her eyes met Wade's cold ones. "When the coach comes, you walk out and flag them down," he ordered.
"What do I tell them?" Rachel asked, trying hard to sound confident in this situation.
"Be creative," Wade sneered, gesturing to his men to follow and hide away behind the boulders which were scattered about the place and take the horses up into the hills.
Before Rachel headed off towards the main road, Charlie stopped her, placing his hand on her arm. "Be careful," he said softly. Rachel merely smiled in response.
"I will."
By the side of the main road, Rachel waited, leaning against an old withered tree. She sighed and brushed a hand across her hot, sweaty brow. Gradually the loud, pounding sound of hooves became known, echoing around the area. She looked back behind her hoping to see Charlie somewhere, but he'd disappeared along with the other men from the outfit. She was on her own now.
The vague outline of a coach hovered in the heat wave which lay across the horizon. She could make out dark shapes ahead of it: the horses. Rachel took many deep breaths until the coach was only a couple of hundred yards away, then she pushed herself into gear and raced out across the dirt track.
"Help me!" she screamed, looking up towards two men which were sat at the front of the coach, controlling the horses. "Please. Help me!" Whether her acting skills were anything to be proud of, she'd soon know.
"Whoa!" an old man called out, pulling tightly on the reins of the horses. The coach came to a slow stop. The man peered down at Rachel with a pair of small dark eyes and spoke out from underneath a large, grey handle bar moustache. "What's goin' on, Miss?" he asked. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Sweat was pouring down Rachel's brow which made everything look all the more believable. "A gang of outlaws were after me. They held me captive. Please, help me!" Rachel called out, gesturing back towards the hills.
Suddenly with no word of warning a gunshot rang through the air and the younger passenger of the coach slammed forwards, blood pouring from a wound in his chest. The old man yelled in surprise and grabbed a gun from by his feet, raising it up into the air.
Charlie was still behind a large boulder, watching Rachel from a distance. His heart beat wildly in his chest. If this man realised what Rachel was doing, he could easily turn on her. His right hand lingered on the top of his Schofield, ready to raise it if need me.
A few feet away from Charlie, Campos aimed his rifle at the old man, ready to kill him too. Hopefully there were only these two men to take care of. It certainly didn't seem as if any others were present.
Back at he coach, the old man noticed how unaffected Rachel seemed to be by the sudden death of the young man in the passenger seat. "You're with 'em, ain't you?" he snapped. "What did they do? Bribe a young kid like you to go along with 'em?" With that, he raised his gun directly at Rachel's head and watched her eyes grow wide like a shocked rabbit out on the highway at night, being blinded by the headlights of an oncoming vehicle.
Charlie rose from behind the boulder suddenly as if on instinct.
"Charlie!" Wade demanded. "Get back down you stupid bastard!" But Charlie never listened and made himself known to the old man.
"You wanna kill someone, old man. Kill me!" Charlie called, holding his hands out.
"For fuck's sake, Charlie!" Wade shouted.
The old man watched Charlie approach with his hands in the air and kept his weapon aimed at Rachel's head. "Aww!" he cooed evilly. "Worried ah'll blow her pretty little head off? Ah know who ya are, Prince. Ah've seen you."
"Well, ah can't say that you look familiar. You'll have to jog mah mind a little there, old man," Charlie replied sarcastically.
"Come on. Word travels fast round here. You know that," the old man spat. "Not many like you get by without someone knowin' who ya are."
Charlie's gaze raced back and forth between Rachel and the old man and the long that gun was aimed at Rachel, the more nervous it made him. Should he reach for his gun and risk the guy shooting Rachel? The odds of him killing this guy now with one shot seemed to outweigh any other options right now. He knew what he needed to do and as quick as he could grabbed his gun, shooting the old guy directly between the eyes, never faulting. The crack as the bullet left the barrel echoed through the air, almost deafening Rachel. He shoved his gun back into the holster and then looked at Rachel. "You alright?" he asked.
"I'll live," she said simply, staring at the dead bodies.
Wade and the rest of the outfit were soon on the scene, emptying the coach of any money which seemed a pretty small amount. Ben looked across at Charlie as he walked past him, glaring nastily at his second in command. "Next time ah tell you to do something, Charlie Prince, you damn well do it!" he snapped.
As Wade walked away and joined his men that were raiding the coach, Rachel stood before Charlie and in that moment pushed herself into his arms. "Thank you," she whispered softly.