Chapter 25

A/N #1: My most sincere apologies to those of you hanging in there with me on this story for yet another long delay (three whole months–yikes). Been working through a really frustrating case of writers block for a while now, but I think there's light at the end of the tunnel...

Early Saturday afternoon

Tiredly rolling his stiff shoulders, Wyatt stood at the kitchen sink washing up while Gramps poured two cups of coffee to go with the covered plate of sandwiches Martha had waiting for them on the dining room table. "Yes, indeed, got ourselves another healthy little filly today, Wy," he observed with a pleased grin. "That makes three foals now this month, and we still have two expecting mamas yet to give birth in the next few weeks. I think this might be the best season Sherwin Ranch has had in years, thanks to that stallion of yours. Just for his fine bloodlines alone, Commander is worth every dollar your Gran and I paid for him."

Reaching for a towel to dry his hands, Wyatt nodded thoughtfully. Not only had the black stallion been the finest mount a Ranger could ask for during the years Wyatt served, but the retired Commander was proving to be quite successful in his second season as prime stud for the ranch's mares. And looking to the future, there was Caesar to consider. A few weeks ago, James had contacted a fellow horse breeder from near San Antonio about the possibility of buying at least one, if not two, mares to specifically breed with the new stallion in hopes of producing a few true Palomino foals. The pale coated horses were more rare, and therefore, likely to fetch a reliably higher price.

He and Gramps were discussing possible buyers for this season's new foals (and making steady progress on the sandwiches) when the thunderous pounding of hoof beats along the drive came through the open windows. "We expecting anybody, Wy?" Gramps asked curiously, setting down his coffee cup just as the front door burst open and Rufus came rushing into the room, his face set in grim lines. Startled by his friend's odd behavior, Wyatt frowned as a sense of foreboding crept over him. Something was wrong...

"Wyatt!" the blacksmith blurted out, "Thank God you're here. Dave sent me to get the two of you and any men you can spare. We gotta hurry–there's bad trouble at the bank. It's being robbed and he thinks it's the James gang." Slowly rising to his feet, Wyatt gripped the edge of the table, instinctively sensing there was more...and he wasn't gonna like it...

"What aren't you telling us?" he demanded impatiently, the feeling of dread growing stronger when the other man visibly hesitated. "Dammit, Rufus, just spit it out."

Rubbing the back of his neck, Rufus admitted, "The gang is holding at least two people hostage that we know of...and Wy, one of them is Lucy. She's the one who somehow got word to Dave." Staring at his friend in shock, it suddenly felt like all the air went out of the room, and for an agonizing moment, Wyatt couldn't breathe for the powerful fear choking his throat at even the thought of the woman he loved being in mortal danger. He cautiously drew a shaky breath, and then another, telling himself now wasn't the time to give into his feelings because Lucy was counting on him...needed him to be strong for her.

Wyatt dimly heard Rufus hurriedly assure Gramps that Betsy was safe at the dressmaker's shop. Alright then. Inhaling deeply, an icy sense of calm swept over him, much like the feeling he would get whenever his Rangers battalion was heading into a dangerous situation. Hang on, Lucy, I'm on my way, Wyatt thought, uttering a quick prayer under his breath for her safety. "This is my fault, Wy, I'm the one who sent the women to the bank in the first place," James fretted even as Wyatt shook his head in denial.

"Stop it, Gramps. There's no possible way any of us could've known the James gang would come this far west" he pointed out sensibly, needing his grandpa to keep his head and remain steady. "Last word Dave had, they were headed south towards Mexico. We need to focus now on getting to Lucy, alright?"

Heading for the steps to get his gun from his room, he called over his shoulder for James to round up as many of their hands as he could find and for Rufus to gather all the rifles and ammunition from the gun cabinet in the front room. Upstairs, despite his outwardly calm demeanor, Wyatt's hand's shook ever so slightly as he buckled the gun belt snugly around his waist. Reaching for his gun on the top of the dresser, he quickly checked to make sure it was loaded. His hands stilled for a moment as he pictured Lucy in his mind this morning at the breakfast table, happy and laughing and so pretty she nearly took his breath. He could not lose another woman he loved without losing his mind...

Sternly chastising himself for the momentary weakness, he took a deep breath to prepare himself for the job ahead. With Lucy's very life in danger, it was vital Wyatt keep a cool head and set aside any kind of distraction like his feelings for her. One thing he knew for damn sure was that Miss Lucy Preston would no longer be leaving Sherwin Ranch for any reason in the future unless Wyatt was right by her side. (And if that meant putting a wedding ring on her small hand as soon as possible, that was more than fine with him.) Despite the seriousness of the present circumstances, he couldn't help but grin briefly at the thought of the feisty brunette's predictable response to such blatant protectiveness on his part. Too bad, teacher...

Taking the steps two at a time, he hurriedly grabbed his hat from the hook beside the front door and headed outside to the group of well-armed men waiting, including his grandpa, and Rufus on a fresh horse. As Wyatt swung himself onto Commander's back, James leaned over and grasping his arm, murmured, "I know you're worried something fierce, son, and rightly so, but it's going to be okay. Your Lucy is a smart young lady with plenty of courage. You keep that in mind." Slightly comforted by the older man's advice, Wyatt nodded brusquely.

Riding silently at a brisk, steady pace, the men entered the far end of town less than a half hour later and headed straight for the Sheriff's office. Pulling Commander to a stop, Wyatt and the others hurriedly dismounted just as the door opened and a grim-faced Dave and his part-time deputy, Cyrus, came out.

"Any news?" Wyatt demanded gruffly, his steely gaze instinctively drawn to the other end of the street where the bank stood...where Lucy was being held captive by a bunch of dangerous men...who wouldn't hesitate to use her as a shield while making their escape. With a supreme effort, he pushed the scary, unthinkable idea aside. Now was not the time or place to let his emotions get the better of him...

"None at all since the dressmaker flew into my office out of the blue to tell me your teacher and the bank manager were trapped inside the bank with robbers. Once I had Cy escort Mrs. Larson back to her shop, I moseyed up and down the street a couple times, and made a pass around the back as well, but there hasn't been any sign of movement, not so much as a curtain twitch in the past hour. Whoever the hell's inside that building is staying put for the moment," Dave practically growled in frustration. Without warning, Wyatt's heart clenched at the blunt reminder of how afraid Lucy must be right now as the minutes passed without rescue. Be brave, sweetheart, I'll see you soon, he promised in his heart.

"Thank God most folks around these parts were in town early this morning for their errands and already gone back home, because a public panic is the last thing we need right now." Wyatt and the other men nodded in agreement. "Dammit, Wy, it has to be the James gang–nobody else is even in Texas right now, not that I've heard. Somehow, these bastards got the jump on us, sneaking into town and breaking into the back door of the bank without being seen or heard," his friend exhaled harshly, clearly pissed off by the outlaws catching him and the town unaware. "I really didn't think Jesse and his boys would come this far west, not when all the reports said they were headed south to the border..."

The other man fell silent when Wyatt abruptly held up his hand. "It's not your fault, Dave, and besides, none of that matters now," he said evenly. "What's important is rescuing Lucy and Mr. Randolph and capturing as many of the James gang as possible before they really do head south into Mexico to hide out for a while. And it has to be us, because you know it'd take the Rangers at least a full day to get a battalion here from Fort Worth." Grimacing at the brutal truth of Wyatt's words, Dave ushered everyone inside his small office and hurriedly deputized each man before putting together a plan of action.

Once his grandpa sent a man to the dressmakers to check on Gran and the Larson family, the rest of the group split in half, with Cyrus, James, Rufus and a couple of the Sherwin hands guarding the front of the bank while Wyatt, Dave, and the remaining men casually headed down on the street on horseback to circle around to the back of the building. Mindful of staying out of sight, they dismounted and hunkered down a few yards away beside a slim stand of trees, not far from a cluster of horses lazily grazing. It reminded Wyatt somewhat of the years when he and the Sheriff served together in the Rangers...except the stakes in this particular instance were painfully, personally high for him.

Counting seven in all, including a loaded pack horse, Wyatt cursed under his breath. While the last report Dave had received before today warned Jesse and his brother Frank were apparently seen running with the Ford brothers the past few months–a couple of young, murderous hotheads starting to make a name for themselves–now it looked like there might be one or possibly two more in the gang they knew nothing about, and a sucker's bet that every one of them was heavily armed. Dammit.

"Looks like the James gang has gotten bigger over the past year," Dave frowned, jerking his head toward the horses, practically reading Wyatt's mind (just like the old days). The two of them had always made a good team—and there was no better man to have at his side in a dangerous situation like this, he thought gratefully, despite his gnawing worry for Lucy. "So, how do you wanna handle this, Wy" he asked in a low voice as they closely watched the back door for any sign of movement. "I'd say we got the element of surprise in our favor right now, but only one shot at catching them unawares."

His friend was right. Jesse and his boys hadn't ripped a violent path through parts of Oklahoma and Texas by acting stupid or careless. They'd proven in the past to be willing–even eager–to kill anyone who got in their way, and no way in hell would Wyatt consider the possibility of Lucy getting caught in the middle of a gunfight with them. While it was tempting to run off the gang's horses and cut off their escape, on the other hand, trapping them inside the bank with two vulnerable hostages could easily backfire...and he just wouldn't risk it. No, they'd just have to figure out something else, and sooner rather than later...

Huddled on the floor behind the teller window with poor Mr. Randolph for the past hour or so, Lucy was uncomfortably aware of the avid gaze of the outlaw keeping watch over the two of them. The other members of the gang paced around, peeking out the front windows and discussing their escape (while occasionally sending angry looks in her direction since she'd enabled the Larson girls to escape and probably sound the alarm). Keeping her eyes lowered, she whispered, "Are you alright?" to the older gentleman, who nodded slowly, wincing in pain from the movement as he leaned closer.

"I'm terribly sorry, Miss Preston, that your life is in danger. This is all my fault," he whispered. "I neglected to lock the back door behind Charles when he left at noon, and so these brigands were able to just walk right in. The Sheriff regularly keeps me apprised of reports on various outlaw gangs, but I truly never believed any of them would come this far west. And now you're a hostage, too. You should have gotten away when you had the opportunity, and now it's too late," Mr. Randolph lamented. In the dim light filtering through the drawn curtains, a concerned Lucy noticed how pale his normally ruddy complexion was.

Reaching up her sleeve, she retrieved a clean hankie and gently dabbed at the blood oozing sluggishly from the side of the injured banker's head, grateful the robbers had neglected to bind her hands. Lucy prayed someone had notified the sheriff, who would of course immediately send for Wyatt. Not only was he smart and brave and quite capable, it was reassuring to remember that both men were former Texas Rangers who spent years together dealing with dangerous men like the ones robbing the bank.

Thank goodness she'd offered to fetch Mrs. Sherwin's reticule herself. While acutely aware of the danger she found herself in, nonetheless, Lucy was comforted by the knowledge that the older lady was safe at the dressmaker's shop–and Mary had hopefully been able to get word to Sheriff Baumgardner. Which meant her biggest worry at the moment was whether the man she loved would be able to ride into town in time to help the sheriff before the outlaws got away with everyone's hard-earned money. Lucy prayed fervently he would arrive soon, telling herself to be patient and have faith in him and his friend that they would do everything in their power to keep her and Mr. Randolph safe.

She froze when a high-pitched masculine voice abruptly interrupted her racing thoughts. "Hey, there, pretty lady, you got yourself a husband?" Glancing up, Lucy saw the youngest man in the gang, maybe around 18 or so judging from the patchy whiskers on his face, standing a few feet away. Surprisingly, he appeared to be not much older than some of her students. Still–though her expression remained composed—she recoiled mentally at the nasty, knowing smirk he wore despite his young age, discomfited as his pale blue eyes gleamed and seemed to lazily scan her from head to toe. Regrettably, ignoring the youth thus far only seemed to encourage his interest.

"Leave the young lady, alone, you ruffian," Mr. Randolph suddenly huffed in her defense. While Lucy appreciated his gallantry, she feared it was a mistake when the brash outlaw instantly frowned and only moved closer, idly twirling the revolver carelessly dangling from his dirty hand.

"Wasn't talkin' to you, old man," he growled, looming over them menacingly, "and it ain't polite to interrupt the private conversation I'm having here with the lady. So mind your business or you'll get another knock on the head."

"It's alright, Mr. Randolph," Lucy intervened hastily, putting a shaking hand on the man's arm until he reluctantly settled back down against the wall. Though just thinking of Wyatt made her throat ache with unshed tears, she lifted her chin and replied calmly enough, "No husband, but I do have a serious beau." She thought it prudent in light of the circumstances to remain silent about Wyatt's former service as a Texas Ranger.

To her surprise, the younger man's angry expression cleared and he laughed in delight. "A beau? Well, damn, don't you use prissy words." As Lucy and the injured banker exchanged bemused looks, he looked over his shoulder and called out, "Hey, Charlie, c'mere and listen to the way this lady talks all fancy like." Oh, dear, maybe she should have kept quiet...

One of the others broke away from their tense discussion and approached, wearing an exasperated frown. "Dammit, Robert, we're a little busy right now for you to be wasting time sniffing around this woman," he chided, sending the hostages an annoyed glance, as if Lucy was deliberately trying to hold the increasingly bold young outlaw's attention.

Ignoring the scolding, their guard merely grinned sheepishly. "So what? I ain't all that busy watching over an old man and a girl, plus you know we got no say in what the gang does, Jesse does all the deciding...and besides, she's awful damn pretty, Charlie," he explained, winking cheerfully at Lucy. Her skin crawled unpleasantly at the impropriety. Wait...did he say Jesse? As in the infamous Jesse James? Lucy's heart sank. This was turning out to be so much worse than she thought...

"It ain't fair that all you boys have women back home except me," Robert whined, staring at Lucy with ill-disguised longing. Quickly looking down at her lap, she couldn't contain a shocked gasp when her world was unexpectedly turned upside down by the other man's terrifying response.

Charlie rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Listen to me, little brother, you need to leave this female the hell alone and pay attention 'cause when Jesse and Frank wanna make a move, we gotta be ready to go. (Brother?) And anyway, it wouldn't surprise me none if she ends up coming along for insurance in case the town sheriff comes after us, so you can sweet talk her all you want once we get back on the trail to Mexico." Going with them? To Mexico? Dear God, no. It was simply unthinkable...

Reeling at the threat of being forcibly dragged away from the man and life she'd come to love and being used as a kind of "insurance" (or even more frightening, something besides that) by these dangerous fugitives—and at the mercy of the overly familiar, volatile Robert as well—Lucy fought the growing panic filling her chest. Just breathe, Lucy, and stay calm. She had to be strong and smart until Wyatt arrived (never doubting for a second he'd come for her). Slumped beside her, Mr. Randolph's breathing grew labored and shallow, and Lucy feared the older man was near to losing consciousness–or much worse—from the vicious blow to the head he suffered.

Without warning, her resolve was tested when the other men finally joined the brothers to stand over them. Lucy eyed the group warily, her heart thudding fiercely as the newcomers regarded them wordlessly before one began to speak. "Well, now, it's easy to see why Robert's attention was caught by this one. She is rather comely compared to most of the women we meet in these little bitty dirt towns, ain't she, boys? What's your name, darlin?"

Caught off guard by the strange lack of animosity in the question, Lucy gazed up at the man, who was of slender build and not overly tall. He had bright blue eyes, and though his clothes were as dusty and shabby as the others, sported a clean face and surprisingly neatly-trimmed goatee. And while the outlaw spoke casually enough, his earlier annoyance with her seemingly forgotten, she nonetheless sensed the unmistakable air of authority around him despite his relative youth (as well as a faintly perceptible glimmer of menace), and therefore had no trouble guessing his identity. This must be Jesse James himself.

Worried a show of defiance would only result in offending the robber–which might result in further harm to Mr. Randolph-Lucy swallowed hard before responding quietly, "Lucy...Lucy Preston," grateful her voice remained somewhat steady." To her surprise, the man merely nodded and promptly held out his calloused hand for her to shake. An outlaw with manners? she wondered, bewildered by the gesture.

"Right pleased to meet you, Lucy Preston. My name is Jesse James, and this here is my gang." Pointing to each one, he named them. "This is my big brother and best friend, Frank, and that beanpole's Ed Miller, and it looks like you've already met the Ford brothers, Charlie and Robert. My apologies if this pup has acted rather forward towards you, Ma'am. Our Robert's still a little wet behind the ears," Jesse informed her, shaking his head fondly. From behind him came a muttered, "Aww, now, Jesse," as the men all nodded politely at Lucy as if they were attending a church social. It was truly the most bizarre introduction she'd ever experienced.

Never in a hundred years could Lucy have imagined having a civil, even amiable, conversation with the leader of an outlaw gang like the man in front of her—and it was unsettling, to say the least. How in heaven's name was she supposed to respond? "Lovely to meet you also," would certainly be an outright lie, Lucy thought ruefully. After a slight pause, she reached up and gingerly shook his outstretched hand.

Luckily, despite her obvious hesitancy, he took no offense, merely chuckling. "Easy to see by your skittish manner that you might've heard tell of us, pretty lady," making some of the others smirk proudly. "Guess word has gotten around about us, boys, even in the middle of nowhere Texas." In a heartbeat, however, Jesse' jovial demeanor disappeared entirely as he abruptly regarded the hostages somberly. The chilling difference in his manner was like day and night. "Alright, then, now that the pleasantries are over, it's time for us to go. Need to get as far south towards the border as possible before sundown."

The outlaw leader jerked his head towards the back door. "Ed, you, Charlie and Robert wait there for my signal before opening the door...me and Frank will handle this and be right behind you." The men obeyed without question, even the youngest one–though he did pause long enough to wink at Lucy once more. For the briefest of seconds, she thought perhaps Jesse had decided to let her remain behind with poor Mr. Randolph until he gestured and his brother roughly yanked Lucy to her feet, his grip on her arm uncomfortably tight. It seemed time had run out for the hostages. Wyatt, please hurry, we need you...

"You go on with Frank, now, Lucy Preston, and behave yourself while I take care of the banker," he ordered calmly. It was disturbingly clear to her from his impassive expression and matter-of-fact tone exactly what was in store for the injured older man...and though it would probably put her life in even greater danger (which would surely scare and infuriate Wyatt), Lucy just couldn't let that happen...and knew what she had to do. Please forgive me, my love.

Wrenching her arm from Frank James' punishing grip, she knelt in front of Mr. Randolph and whispered assurance to the now unconscious man before inhaling deeply and turning to face Jesse. "Please don't hurt this man any further," she pleaded, hating the hint of desperation in her voice. "As you can see, he's no threat to you and your men. He's not even conscious, and you've been very open about your identities. I...I will go with you of my own accord if you leave him alone. Please, Mr. James." She practically held her breath as the outlaw's eyes narrowed in consideration while his brother frowned at Lucy's disobedience.

After several agonizing seconds, Jesse grinned and said, "Aww, what the hell. One less soul to answer to our Maker for, right, brother?" looking at Frank, who shrugged. "Alright, then, you got yourself a deal, Lucy Preston. Been a while since we had a female along for company. Might be kinda nice. Hope you know how to ride, though, darlin', 'cause we got ourselves a lot of miles to cover between here and Mexico." Too relieved Mr. Randolph's life had hopefully been spared to worry about her own safety, this time she made no protest when Frank James once more hauled Lucy none too gently to her feet and started dragging her to the back door followed by Jesse with the bulging money bags.

Clustered around the door in a tight group, the air in the bank stuffy and overly warm, she swallowed hard against her nausea at the smell of so many unwashed bodies in such close quarters–careful to keep out of reach of the eager Robert. "Charlie, you and Robert head straight for the horses while Ed covers in case somebody's laying in wait to ambush us." Lucy anxiously hoped Wyatt and several "somebodies" were waiting outside the door to save her and Mr. Randolph.

Ed cautiously pushed open the back door and peeked around. "All clear, boss," he said after a moment, stepping through the doorway, followed closely by the Ford brothers. At the last second, Jesse thrust the money bags at his brother and took Lucy's right arm in a firm grip as he held his gun in the other hand. Blinking in the bright afternoon sunlight as the outlaw dragged her outside, Lucy stumbled along after him. A welcome breeze lightly ruffled the loose strands of hair waving around her face as her gaze frantically darted here and there searching for Wyatt. Wyatt, where are you? I need you...

But sadly, all was quiet, and her hopes quickly fading...until thankfully, she suddenly heard in a familiar deep voice, "Jesse James! You and your men are under arrest. Put down your weapons and the money and let the woman go." Whipping her head around, Lucy could've cried when she saw Wyatt and the sheriff and a few men from Sherwin Ranch standing only a few yards away with their guns pointed at the robber gang. "Wyatt..." she whimpered under her breath, wanting nothing more than the safety of his strong arms in that moment.

Time seemed to stand still as the two groups of men coldly stared each other down. And then all hell broke loose. A volley of gunshots and hoarse shouts of pain filled the air as the Ford brothers made a run for the horses, apparently not entirely successfully dodging bullets, while Ed returned fire on Wyatt and the others. Desperate to free herself, Lucy pulled with all her strength against the unyielding hold Jesse had on her arm as he swiftly followed Frank towards the horses. If the robber managed to drag her onto a horse, she might never see Wyatt again...

Gathering her courage, Lucy dropped all her weight onto her heels and shrieked, "Let me go," hissing in pain when it felt like her arm was being wrenched from its socket. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the wounded Ford brothers leaping onto a couple horses and riding off as Ed dropped to the ground clutching his chest. Despite Lucy's efforts, Jesse's iron grip on her never loosened a bit as he calmly laid down cover for his brother.

And then Frank somehow managed to hold onto the money bags and take off, too, and it was just Lucy and the outlaw standing beside the last horse who was shying away and pawing the ground nervously. Roughly jerking her body in front of him as a kind of shield–so closely she could feel his hot breath against the back of her neck—Jesse shouted, "Hold your fire or the woman dies. You boys know I mean it."

Closing her eyes briefly, Lucy shuddered and went limp, her senses overwhelmed at last by the danger she'd endured since being pulled into the bank not even two hours ago. The sudden quiet once Wyatt and his men lowered their guns was oddly, shockingly loud to her ears as she opened her eyes and silently pleaded for him to help her. To Lucy's surprised relief, one corner of his lips curled slightly and he mouthed the words, "It's gonna be okay." And because she loved this man with all her heart, she believed him.

"Let the woman go, James," Wyatt ordered curtly, his gaze shifting to the outlaw, hands steady on his gun as he slowly advanced towards them, backed up by his ranch hands and best friend. Lucy's heart pounded in trepidation as behind her, the robber hastily considered his options. Then without warning, in one violent, unexpected motion, Jesse forcefully shoved her away from him as he leapt onto the back of the horse and rode off, firing at the men over his shoulder while the sheriff and a couple men ran for their horses and raced after him.

Startled by the action, Lucy cried out in shock when one of the fleeing horse's hooves sharply clipped the side of her head as she was falling to the ground. As if from a great distance, Lucy thought she heard Wyatt hoarsely shout her name. Wincing at the blinding pain as blood began to slowly drip down the side of her face, the last thing Lucy was aware of before the soothing darkness took her was the stark fear in his deep blue eyes as he bent over her prone body, feverishly murmuring, "Don't you dare leave me, Lucy Preston, you hear? I love you..."

A/N #2: Wow...that was a little intense–but hopefully in a good way :) This chapter is a bit shorter than usual, but Lucy's rescue by Wyatt (was there ever any doubt?) seemed like a good place to stop for now. Still more to come, Timeless friends. Once again, a grateful thank you to those readers still enjoying this story for your patience. Your favorites, follows, and of course, reviews, are deeply appreciated. Here's wishing all of you a wonderful holiday season and a happy new year. See you in 2024 :))