Chapter 2
Rock Creek, Nebraska
April 1872
As the stagecoach rumbled to a halt in Rock Creek, Lara and Joaquin stepped out onto the dusty road, greeted by the warmth of the midday sun. A cool crisp breeze blew her hat askew and caused her long amber tresses to loosen from the leather tie that had them bound. Shielding her eyes against the brightness, Lara took a moment to let her vision adjust.
Rock Creek appeared far more bustling than she had imagined, its streets alive with the steady hum of the people. The buildings, though modest were well kept. With the keenness of a hawk, her eyes swept across the scene before her, taking in the prominent landmarks and essential establishments, from the sturdy facade of the general store to the quaint charm of the local inn, and of course the jail house which was settled in the center of town.
"Lara," Joaquin called, pulling her towards the hotel. "Quickly, let's get a room and then have dinner."
"Good, I'm famished," Lara replied, following him closely.
"We'd like a room, please," Joaquin said, placing their bags on the front desk.
"No Injuns," a gruff-looking man sneered from behind the counter, his words laced with disgust. "I'm not an Indian," Joaquin sighed.
"You sure look like one," the middle-aged man peered at him closely.
"Sir, we've been traveling for many days," Lara interrupted the argument, her voice calm yet firm. "We're exhausted," she added, hoping to diffuse the tension and appeal to the man's sense of empathy.
"It's just that we don't allow any," the man started to say.
"He's my brother. We're both from California," Lara interjected once more, her interruption punctuated by a smile that hinted at mischief, leaning in closer to the desk with a subtle reveal of her cleavage. "He's not an Indian. You have my word."
The man hesitated, visibly flustered by Lara's assertiveness. "Well, I, uh... Sorry, ma'am, for my mistake," he mumbled, his tone contrite as he realized his error.
"Thank you," Lara said with a charming smile, her lashes batting gently as the man handed Joaquin the keys, the tension dissipating with her graciousness.
Suppressing her laughter, Lara trailed behind Joaquin as they ascended the stairs, her fatigue more visible with every step. As soon as he swung open the door, she gratefully collapsed onto the bed, her body craving rest above all else. Joaquin granted her an hour of undisturbed sleep before gently rousing her. He was tempted to let her sleep the remainder of the night but he knew she would be hungry if she didn't eat dinner.
Their footsteps echoed through the crowded halls of the Rock Creek hotel, the sound of conversation mingling with the clatter of dishes in the restaurant below. Once again, they encountered the familiar reaction to Joaquin's presence, the air thick with judgment and suspicion.
Undeterred, Lara drew upon her charm, her smile disarming as she engaged the man guarding the entrance. With a few carefully chosen words, she worked her magic, persuading him to grant them entry despite the doubts that lingered in his gaze. Almost as if on cue, her stomach growled, adding a touch of humor to the tension that had just dissipated.
"Small towns are a lot more difficult." Lara sighed as they sat alone at the table in the corner of the room.
"I don't know how you do it," Joaquin shook his head annoyed at the circumstances yet amused by the ease in which Lara was able to so quickly manipulate the situation.
"Because men are so easily persuaded," Lara raised an eyebrow at him and winked.
"You mean stupid," he smirked.
"Sometimes," Lara smiled, her eyes scanning the menu. "I'm glad you woke me for dinner. I'm starving, what will you have?" Lara's voice carried a hint of eagerness as she turned to Joaquin, her stomach's growl increased in volume.
"Lara," Joaquin's tone suddenly changed. His vision was fixed at the entrance.
"What is it?" Lara noticed his shift in demeanor. "I have to leave now."
"Go," she whispered softly.
"I'll get a message to you," Joaquin said urgently.
She nodded in acknowledgment, her gaze following Joaquin's to the group of men gathered at the doorway, her senses alert and observant.
"Joaquin, hurry," Lara's eyes snapped back to him, and she stood up. "Go now."
Her eyes wide with panic, Lara stood and raced towards the front of the restaurant. As she neared the door, a surge of adrenaline propelled her forward. With a sudden lurch, she clutched at her chest, allowing her body to go limp. With each calculated movement, she prayed she wouldn't collide with anything as she descended to the ground.
Her plan unfolded flawlessly, a rush of relief flooding her senses as a crowd quickly gathered around her, their concerned murmurs drowning out the chaos of the moment. Shielded by the swarm of onlookers, the lawmen's pursuit of Joaquin was momentarily halted, their attention diverted by the spectacle before them.
Lara lay still, her breath shallow as someone fanned her. Slowly, she fluttered her eyes open, the glimmer of consciousness returning as she played her part in the charade, every heartbeat a testament to the lengths she would go.
"Oh, she's regaining consciousness."
"Someone call the doctor," an elderly man's voice rang out, his hands waving frantically in the air as he sought assistance amid the commotion.
"No, thank you, I'll be fine," Lara sighed heavily, glancing at the concerned crowd.
"Are you sure, miss?" the man helped her to a chair.
"Yes, thank you, sir."
"Are you alright, ma'am?" A young man, his shirt adorned with a silver star, stood before her, concern etched across his features as he sought to assess her well-being amidst the chaos.
"Yes, marshal," Lara stammered. "I must be tired from all the traveling."
"Where's your friend?" the marshal inquired.
"Friend?" Lara looked up at him, her eyes wide and innocent, as if she had just awoken from a deep slumber, her act woven with cunning precision.
"The man you were having dinner with."
"Well, he's right there," Lara replied, glancing around the restaurant with feigned sincerity. "Well, he was."
"Come with us, Ma'am," the marshal said, extending his hand to help her to her feet.
"I don't understand," Lara said, following the two men back to the marshal's office.
"What brings you to Rock Creek, Ma'am?" the marshal inquired.
"I was, well, I'm just headin' east is all. I'm looking for an old friend."
"What's your name?"
"Lara Alba."
"You ain't from around here," the young deputy chimed in.
"I'm from California," Lara replied, surveying the small office. "Marshal, I'm feeling a bit faint, if you don't mind."
"Ma'am, where's Joaquin Vasquez?" the marshal continued, shutting the door behind him and pushed a chair in her direction.
"Who?" Lara feigned innocence as she accepted the chair.
"The man you were havin' dinner with."
"You must be mistaken," Lara shook her head. "He told me his name was Jack, Jack Mitchell."
"You're sayin' you don't know him?" the Marshal locked eyes with her.
"Well, I met him on the train yesterday," she smiled innocently. "We both took the coach from Omaha here."
"You checked into the hotel with him," the deputy interjected.
"Oh, you must be mistaken," Lara felt a sudden panic. How long had they been followed? She was usually much more observant.
"Mr. Billings, the Hotel owner, tells me you both checked in," the marshal nodded. "He said you claimed he was your brother."
Lara thought quickly, biting her lower lip as she glanced across the street at the hotel.
"Ma'am?" The marshal pressed. "Mr. Billings was concerned that there was something funny going on and he came to me. Once I saw you and your friend, I knew I had seen him before." He retrieved a wanted poster from his desk drawer. "This is him. Now, either you are helping him of your own free will, or he's forcing you to."
"I told you, I don't know anyone named Vasquez," Lara maintained her composure. "That man was escorting me to the hotel. The owner must have thought otherwise. He was simply carrying my bags for me, that's all."
"He said you were up there for over an hour," the deputy chimed in.
"Have you brought me here to be impertinent?" Lara stood up, raising an eyebrow.
"Just answer the question," the marshal insisted.
"Either throw me in jail," Lara cut him off, "or I'll be on my way now."
"Thank you, Ma'am, for your time." The marshal escorted her to the door, watching as she walked across the street, glancing back at them once before continuing toward the hotel.
"Why'd you let her go?" the deputy questioned.
"She ain't done nothin', just watch her, Peterson. She knows Vasquez."
"Alright, marshal," the young deputy nodded.
The presence of a wanted criminal in his town raised serious concerns for Kid, especially considering the potential danger it posed to the safety and security of Rock Creek. The fact that the wanted individual was accompanied by a young woman looking barely a few years over twenty only added further interest.