Chapter 33
Omaha, Nebraska 1872
Lara paced the train platform, her footsteps wearing a path in the wooden boards. Though she yearned for her brother to join her, she understood his duty to his family. Her heart swelled with bittersweet pride at his happiness, yet she felt as alone as she had been years ago when she began her search.
Glancing at the train, she spotted Joaquin already seated. His transformation startled her briefly – his long, wavy locks were gone, replaced by a short, neat cut. Clad in a suit with a freshly shaved face, he blended seamlessly among the other passengers, a far cry from the outlaw's portrait on the wanted posters.
As the conductor made the last call for boarding, Lara silently pleaded for one more moment. She lingered in the shadows, hoping to avoid the Marshal while longing for a final embrace with her brother. Just as she resignedly began to ascend the stairs, a faint call reached her ears.
"Lara!"
"Night Wolf!" With uninhibited joy, she dashed towards him, enveloping him in a fierce hug. "I feared I wouldn't get to bid you farewell properly."
"No need, we are going with you," Night Wolf announced, his words tinged with sadness as he introduced his wife, Sweet Rain Woman.
Lara's heart leapt with joy. "Truly!?" She hugged her brother tightly and took the parcel his wife carried, not questioning his sudden change of heart. She reached out to hold Sweet Rain Woman's hand, recognizing the fear in the young woman's eyes – a sentiment she knew all too well.
"Hold it right there."
Lara and Night Wolf froze as the familiar voice reached their ears. Lara hurriedly pushed Sweet Rain Woman onto the train, turning to confront her father.
"Laralie, maybe someday I'll forgive you for this treason," Monroe seethed.
"Forgive me?" Lara's fists clenched in defiance.
"I shouldn't waste a bullet on your hide." His gaze shifted to Night Wolf, his intent clear as he raised his gun.
"Father, no!" Lara rushed forward, grappling for the weapon. "Please!"
Joaquin leapt from his seat on the train, racing towards Lara. The single gunshot that rang out shattered the air, followed by a stunned silence. The spreading stain of blood on Lara's blue silk dress was stark and alarming.
Before anyone could react, the sound of a blade slicing through the air pierced the silence, followed by the sickening thud of it embedding into flesh. Captain Monroe collapsed, revealing a knife protruding from the center of his back.
Buck rushed forward, his instincts driving him to Lara's side before the crowd closed in. Without hesitation, he lifted her into his arms. He couldn't bear to lose her, not like this, not with the bitterness between them unresolved. As he carried her towards the doctor's office, he silently prayed for her safety, willing her to hold on, to fight.