Chapter Ninety-Eight
Eugene caught up with Heath in the barn, "I know it's usually Nick to ride out with you but I am going this time. McColl told me what happened."
Heath just grunted and tightened the straps.
"I take that as a yes."
Heath nodded and the brothers took off toward Stockton.
—-&—
The young hand was terrified for his life and headed to Stockton. He would check for the next train with a drover car.
"There is no way I am leaving my gal behind. This horse has been with me through thick and thin."
He tethered behind the church building, "No one will think to look there for a while."
He snuck into town and met up with Dottie at the cafe. She hid him in the kitchen and heard his version of the story being propositioned by a girl of ill repute and the Barkley girl falling down in an accident, "The whore blamed me. Now Heath Barkley is going to kill me."
They were talking in front of an open window on the boardwalk. The back porch of the newspaper office next door. Peter Doolin had gone out for a smoke and a moment to think. He heard the name Heath Barkley and had to eavesdrop.
He heard enough, "Son, you are in a pickle. No one will believe your story, up against a Barkley. Why don't you two come over to my office and tell me why a whore is at the Barkleys. I will make it worth your while and make sure you get out of town."
Dottie looked at him, "You betta. Let me tell my boss I am sick and I will be over there. I can't lose ya honey."
The young hand told an embellished story from the Pinkertons of opium dens, Shanghai'ing, almost fatal stabbings, loss of $10,000 to the kidnappers, a whore brought back to keep quiet about the circumstances, Jarrod losing his mental facilities—
Peter Doolin delighted in taking the notes of a witness close to the case. He went and checked the train schedule. Booked passage for two first-class seats and a drover space for the horse. He withdrew $200 from the bank and returned to the young couple.
"Good luck in the future. Buy yourself some land and a little house. The tickets are in the name of George and Harriet Smith. Here is my donation to your new life. My runner will deliver the horse under the same name to the drover. It will be there. So I suggest you be on the train in two hours."
"Thank you, Mr Doolin. You saved my life."
"You are very welcome. I shall miss your pies at the cafe but I caution you not to tell anyone what has transpired today. " He sneered.
Dottie went upstairs to the diner and packed a bag. She changed into her traveling dress.
"I would go anywhere with you—"
"Love ya, honey. Thanks for standing by me. You won't regret it."
—-&—-
The young couple dressed in their church clothes waited nervously on the platform while the newspaper clerk boarded the horse. Eugene feverishly watched the passengers for a man in tan dungarees and a maroon shirt with a tan vest. No one met the description. Heath checked the manifest for names to no avail. They had already made their way through the three bars in town and Big Annie's with no sightings.
The Springer private car was unhitched and caught Heath's attention.
"Nate? Alice? Didn't know you were coming."
Nate hugged him, "Sent a telegram last night. First of all, how is everyone?"
"I guess no one opened the telegram or mail in a few days," Eugene surmised.
Heath gave him the rundown as Alice listened breathlessly with an overwhelmed expression.
"We will get rooms at the Cattleman's. You have a full house. We have guests with us. It was better just to bring them than to transact solutions by wire. Heath, you remember Timothy? And Lila?"
Lila looked frail and very young. She smiled at Heath and did an old-fashioned curtsy. She held tightly to Timothy's arm.
Heath shook his hand just as Gene came back from checking the cars once more.
"They aren't on the train."
Heath shook his head in anger, "Well best leave it be for now but he shows his face in town—-"
Nate and Timothy shared a look of concern.
"Long story. Let's get you four to the ranch for a meal and hear the news from San Francisco."