Christie And The Hellcat Part 21

"There is no gold," protested Bonney. "Your information must be wrong." But even Christie could tell that the banker was lying. He was trembling and sweating even more than usual.

"d.a.m.ned if it is!" said the figure in the black hood. He waved a gun muzzle at Dusty. "Get the banker's luggage out of the boot . . .

You too, shorty."

137.

Dan's brown eyes were terrified. "Me?"

"And you, Reverend," continued the Bandit. "Unless unloading luggage is 'gainst your religion."

The preacher opened his mouth then shut it again. Torn trouser leg flapping, he limped round to the back of the stage where Dan and Dusty were waiting. The driver hopped up and undid the straps holding the boot closed then handed down Bonney's bags. Judging by all three men's expressions, the bags were much heavier than expected.

They placed them on the ground and awaited further instructions.

"Stand clear." The Bandit aimed and fired.

Christie's ears were still ringing, and the scent of gunpowder was acrid in her nostrils, when she registered that a bullet had shattered the lock on one of the bags.

"Open it," ordered the Bandit.

Dan crouched and flipped open the bag. Inside were several small pouches. The drawstring of one had come loose and gold dust was spilling out. Christie gulped. It was more wealth than she had seen in her entire life.

"No gold, huh?" The Bandit relaxed his guard. As he did so something emerged from under the stage, barreled past Christie, and leaped at him. The horse reared, and the startled bandit, who had dropped one gun in his attempts to stay in his saddle, fell as Zee bore him to earth with a thud.

Christie gathered her wits and rushed forward. Her help was unnecessary though. By the time she reached Zee, the deputy was kneeling astride the dazed bandit, who was face down in the dust.

As Zee pulled his gloved hands behind his back and lashed them together with his suspenders, the stunned pa.s.sengers watched her, mouths open. Only Dusty was composed enough to offer a.s.sistance.

Zee waved him away and winked at Christie.

"Told you I'd handle it." She rolled her captive over onto his back.

"Now let's see what we've got." She pulled off the black hood with a flourish . . . to reveal auburn curls, long lashes over eyes so dark they were almost black, a pert nose, and a Cupid's bow mouth.

"Oh my!" said Annie into the shocked silence. "He's a she."

The Gila Bandit's mouth worked then she spat. "Nice." Zee wiped the spittle from her cheek. "Very nice." She hauled the woman to her feet and gave her a little shake. "No need for that."

A loud crump made Christie turn. Walter Bonney was lying flat on 138 his back in the dirt, like a beached whale.

"He's fainted!" cried Mrs. Grummond.

As the pa.s.sengers gathered round the unconscious banker and watched Dusty wet a neckerchief with water from his canteen and mop Bonney's forehead, Christie looked at Zee.

"Where were you?"

"In the boot." Zee's answer brought an intake of breath from her prisoner.

"The boot?"

"Sure. Pa.s.sengers have even been known to take a nap in there."

Zee looked smug. "It's kinda cramped, but not bad."

Christie folded her arms. "So you knew we were going to be attacked?"

"No. Had a hunch though."

A faint spluttering proved to be Bonney recovering consciousness and refusing a mouthful of water.

"And you didn't bother to tell me?"

"Coulda been a false alarm. Didn't want to worry you for nothing, darlin'."

The endearment brought a snort from the Gila Bandit. Zee turned an icy gaze on her. "That's enough outta you."

"But you didn't know it was a woman?" persisted Christie.

"Fooled me like everyone else. Must bind her b.r.e.a.s.t.s or something." Zee glanced at the banker, who was being helped shakily to his feet. "What's wrong with him, swooning like that?"

"Always was lily-livered," muttered the Gila Bandit.

Christie blinked at her. "You know him?"

"Should do. Been married to the windbag for fifteen years."

Zee guffawed.

"He's your husband?" Christie couldn't take it in.

"That explains how she always knew when his gold was on board," said the still chuckling Zee. She shoved her prisoner toward the stage.

"Why, Jane?" came Bonney's pained voice as they approached.

His wife brushed past him with barely a glance. "Why not? All that money, Walter. Yet you never spent any of it on me."

"But Jane"

"Show's over, folks," called Dusty, who with Dan's help had stowed Bonney's heavy bags in the boot once more. "All aboard."

139.

While the relieved and chattering pa.s.sengers boarded, Christie watched Zee use the driver's spare set of reins to lash her prisoner to the roofputting her inside the stage with her husband would be asking for trouble, as would sitting her next to Dusty. When Zee at last climbed down, Christie greeted her with the hug she had been wanting to give her since they were held up.

"When I got out and couldn't see you," she whispered in Zee's ear, "I feared something terrible had happened. I thought I'd lost you."

She felt suddenly tearful.

"It takes a lot more'n that to get rid of the h.e.l.lcat." Zee gave her a squeeze then released her and held her gaze. "Don't you know that by now?"

Christie sniffled and fumbled for her handkerchief. "I'm beginning to."

Chapter 7.

The recent rainfall had swollen the Gila River above its normal level but Dusty a.s.sured Zee that the ford was still manageable with care. It was either that or wait, and with a schedule to stick to and the pa.s.sengers champing at the bit, he was reluctant to delay.

Zee shrugged. "You know best."

He turned back to his lines. "Hang on." He cracked his whip above the two leaders' heads, and the team plunged down the bank, the stage rumbling hard on their heels, the tethered gray stallion that was the Gila Bandit's mount bringing up the rear.

Zee hung onto the handrail, watching the water level climb above the horses' fetlocks, then their knees. Their ears went back as twigs and other debris swirled round them.

"Hey, you with the blue eyes," came a woman's voice.

"The name's Brodie." Zee turned to find Jane Bonney frowning at her.

"Promise me something?"

"What?"

"If we get swept away, you'll cut me loose. Least that way I stand a fighting chance."

A large branch kerranged off the near forward wheel then floated off downstream. The horses were chest deep now, snorting and showing signs of wanting to turn back. A judicious crack of the whip strengthened their resolve.

"It won't come to that." Zee became aware of the driver's gritted jaw. "Right, Dusty?"

To her alarm, he ignored her and shook the reins, encouraging the wheelersthe largest and most dependable members of the teamto put their backs into it. "Yah."

141.

The horses were almost swimming. It couldn't get much deeper could it?

Zee craned her neck and peered over the side. The water hadn't yet reached the bottom of the door but it wasn't far off. Noses were pressed against windows, and there was a concerned edge to the m.u.f.fled voices. Once the river started seeping inside the stage, the pa.s.sengers would panic. She crossed her fingers.

The horses were swimming in earnest now, straining in their traces, veins popping and tendons standing out in their arching necks.

The stage pa.s.sed the ford's halfway mark, and Zee shot the grim-faced man beside her another glance. Shouldn't the water level be dropping by now? She gritted her teeth and hung on.

It was imperceptible at first, then slowly but surely, the level began to fall. Then the horses were no longer swimming but wading, pulling the stage more and more strongly toward the bank.

Zee let out her breath. "That was close."

Dusty's jaw worked, then he nodded. "Thought for a moment I'd misjudged it."

She laughed, releasing the tension of the last few minutes. "Glad you kept that to yourself."

They powered up the bank in a shower of grit and sand.

An hour later, they had reached the outskirts of Phoenix and were heading for Central Avenue. Dusty reined in his team and halted the stage outside the Wells Fargo office then jumped down and began unloading the bags ready for the pa.s.sengers.

Zee cut the Gila Bandit loose from the roof and helped her down, then felt a familiar presence behind her. Holding her prisoner's arm with one hand, she turned and smiled down into green eyes. "Hey."

"Hey," returned Christie, giving her a fond look.

"We made it," said Zee unnecessarily.

Christie nodded, taking in their bustling surroundings before turning back to her.

"I have to get her," Zee indicated Jane Bonney, "over to the sheriff's office, and then take care of that Johnny Cactus business. Think you can find our hotel all right?"

"It's the Republic, isn't it?"

Zee nodded. "Best hotel in Phoenix."

"All right for some," muttered Jane.

"I'll find it," said Christie.

142.

The urge to touch her was too much for Zee, and she stroked a soft cheek. Eyelids fluttered closed in response.

"Deputy Brodie. Miss Hayes." Loud voices shattered the quiet moment, and they turned to find a jovial Vesta and Dan Galvin bearing down on them. The Englishwoman was holding something in her gloved fingers.

"We're in a hurry, so we can't stop. But we had to come and say good bye."

"Indeed, sweet ladies. 'Parting is such sweet sorrow.'" Dan smiled and gave a gallant bow that made Zee want to laugh.

"But by way of a thank you," continued Vesta, ignoring Dan's antics, "for the good care you've both taken of us all these last couple of days, we thought you might like these." She pressed two small pieces of card into Christie's hands since Zee's were occupied with her prisoner.

"Oh!" said a clearly delighted Christie. "Tickets to the theater.

Thank you so much."

Probably some Shakespeare play. Zee hoped Christie wouldn't expect her to go.

Dan tapped his pocket watch and Vesta grimaced. "We must rush,"

she said. "We've got a matinee this afternoon, then an evening performance, and we have to get our costumes cleaned and pressed first." She sighed. "And after this journey, heaven only knows what state they're in."