his pocket and turned over. Tomorrow he’d ride out of Casper, after he conducted a few matters of business, and then he’d move on to his next outlawing adventure.
* * *
Tex impatiently tapped his foot against the polished floor of the bank. The woman at the clerk’s window had been there for seven minutes, according to his pocket watch. A gift from his mother, which she’d saved for months to buy, a watch for him and one for Tate. It wasn’t the only thing the brothers had that was identical. Looking at Tate through the years had been like looking at Tex’s own reflection.
Tamping down thoughts of his twin, Tex crossed his arms and glared at the back of the woman’s head. He needed to hurry and cash in his gold coin for money so he could send some more anonymous funds to Ravena Reid and her grandfather back in Idaho and slip out of town as soon as possible. For all he knew, Quincy was still around, and that meant it was time for Tex to leave. He didn’t trust the cattle rustler. Especially not after seeing the desperate glint in Quincy’s eyes last night when the man had realized he’d lost not only his coin and his cash but his precious map too. The older man had been boasting all week about how he’d won it himself from another outlaw in a card game in Colorado.
At last the woman thanked the clerk and walked away. Tex blew out a breath of relief. Stepping to the counter, he smiled at the clerk through the bars on the inner window. “Morning. Busy day at the bank, huh?”
He brought his hand to his pocket, intent on extracting the gold coin. But the sudden click of a gun from behind and the wide eyes of the clerk in front of him made Tex freeze.
“Caught you right in the act of robbing our bank,” a firm voice intoned. “Didn’t I, Mr. Texas Titan?”
Terror he hadn’t felt since his first robbery coursed through Tex and robbed his mouth of moisture. He cautiously lifted his hands in surrender and turned to face the triumphant expression of the local sheriff. “There’s been some mistake. I was simply conducting my banking affairs like everyone else.”
The sheriff barked a humorless laugh. “I ain’t a fool. The jig’s up. Someone in town recognized you and I’ve been tracking you since you left the hotel ten minutes ago.”
It had to be Quincy who had turned him in. Tex frowned, his stomach still lurching with panic. “Why don’t we talk about this outside, Sheriff?”
“Not unless you’re in handcuffs first.”
Tex feigned a look of contrition as he fell back a small step, edging toward the wall that had a plateglass window. It stretched from waist high all the way up to the ceiling and looked out on an alley. “I can see how committed you are, Sheriff. And I applaud that.”
His words seemed to confuse the man, just as Tex had hoped. “But I’m afraid...” He moved another tiny step backward. “That I’m going to have to pass on the suggestion.”
With that he covered his face with his arm and dove for the window. The shatter of glass filled his ears and he felt it cut into the exposed skin along his jaw and hands. But better to deal with broken glass than a bullet.
He landed with a hard thud on the ground in the alley. Gulping for breath, he lumbered to his feet and started for the front of the building. The sheriff fired a shot through the window, but Tex ducked out of the way. Jerking his horse’s reins free, he threw himself into the saddle. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the sheriff barrel out of the bank, his face red with fury.
“You won’t get away so easily,” the man shouted.
Tex kicked his horse, his mind intent on fleeing. The horse leapt forward, and for one moment, Tex knew the familiar thrill of a clean escape. Then the sheriff shot at him again. This time the bullet found purchase. It struck Tex in his right side, and his body jerked hard to the left in reflexive response. He clung to the horse with trembling arms to keep from falling as searing fire registered through his shock.
Half blind with pain, he guided his horse down the alley and out the other side. As if from the end of a long train tunnel, he heard the sheriff hollering at him, but Tex couldn’t make out the words over the roaring in his ears.
He urged his horse into a gallop, heedless of the outbursts from those leaping out of his way. Pressing a hand to his side, Tex fought off the blackness stealing onto the edges of his vision. If he lost consciousness and fell off his horse, he would lose his freedom too. He had to get away from Casper before he passed out. His few belongings, including his money and a dwindling supply of hardtack and jerky, were thankfully already ensconced inside his saddlebags.
As he reached the end of the street, he dizzily looked back over his shoulder. The sheriff was running hard after him and the man wasn’t alone. Quincy and his friends were right behind him.
So it had been Quincy who’d revealed Tex’s identity to the sheriff. Likely in an effort to get back the map.
Tex scowled as much from the pain of being shot as the realization he’d been framed. He wasn’t giving up the map. Not when he’d won it fair and square. Quincy would have to pry it from Tex’s dead hands...though his demise might be sooner than he anticipated with his side bleeding out all over.
He pushed his horse faster, though the increased speed jarred his injury even further. The stabbing in his side pierced his every thought and sense. He ground his teeth against it, refusing to falter. He’d need to stop soon and bandage the gunshot wound as best he could, but right now he had to focus his little remaining energy and awareness on escaping.
And Tex knew where he had to go.
There was only one place Quincy wouldn’t think to look for him. One place he could convalesce in peace. One place where his outlaw past hadn’t yet caught up to him.
The Texas Titan was headed home.
Idaho, five days later
“Mr. Grady, please.” Ravena Reid tossed her dish towel on the porch rocker and trailed the middle-aged man into the yard. “You can’t quit now. There are still two more fields to plow and the planting needs to be done.”
He whirled on her, his face as red as his hair. “I ain’t staying another day. Them rascally boys spooked the horses with their snake. And that’s the second time they’ve made trouble for me in five days.” Marching forward again, he tossed over his shoulder, “’Sides, I can earn far better wages somewhere else.”
Desperation, in the form of a tight lump, lodged in Ravena’s throat and slowed her steps. Not for the first time she wished her grandfather were still alive. The last three months of running the farm and caring for the orphan children by herself had taxed her to capacity. She felt twice as old as her twenty-seven years.
Without their two older orphans, who’d left the previous autumn to make their way into the world, she’d had to part with some of her precious savings to hire someone to help with the plowing and the planting. Mr. Grady was the second man she’d employed—and just like the first, he’d quit after less than a fortnight. In Mr. Grady’s case it was less than a week. Clearly she wasn’t as adept at keeping a hired hand or disciplining the children to leave them alone as her grandfather had been. The knowledge brought the hot press of tears that she barely managed to blink back.
They couldn’t afford a delay in the planting. Not when she needed a good crop in order to provide for the children under her care and the other four orphans she and her grandfather had planned to bring to the farm this summer.
