1. Honeymoon Hazards
Chapter 1
Circle C Ranch, California, June 12, 1886
Music! Dancing! Food! Merriment! Let the party begin!
Andrea Carter couldn’t wait to finish the wedding ceremony and get right to the reception.
She’d overcome the first hurdle—descending the wide staircase without tripping, thanks to Justin. She had stood patiently during Reverend Harris’s longwinded prayer and his even longer words about marriage.
Andi listened attentively while Riley recited his half of the vows. He only stumbled twice. Poor Riley! He looked as jittery as a bronc rider competing in his first rodeo.
Now, the last hurdle: her own vows. She knew them word perfect.
“I, Andrea Rose Carter, take thee, Riley Jared Prescott, to be my husband, to have and to hold—”
She paused when a breeze wafted through the open window, sending the aroma of prime, spit-roasted Circle C beef into Andi’s nostrils. She swallowed. Her mouth watered.
Then her stomach rumbled.
Amusement twinkled in Riley’s hazel eyes. He’d heard that loud, hurry-up-I’m-hungry growl.
A giggle bubbled up in Andi’s throat, but she squelched it. This was a serious moment. She willed herself to ignore the tantalizing barbeque odors and her grumbling stomach. She must focus on these all-important words. Now, where was I?
Her mind drew a blank.
A gentle squeeze to her hand brought Andi’s panicked gaze to Riley’s face. “From this day forward,” he mouthed.
“From this day forward,” Andi picked up where she left off. “For better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; and I promise to be faithful to you until death parts us.”
The last hurdle conquered. Maybe nobody noticed her long pause. Or if they did, perhaps it would be overlooked out of consideration for the bride’s nervousness.
Ten minutes later, and after another long prayer, Reverend Harris finished the ceremony with his solemn, “I pronounce you man and wife.”
And just like that, Andi and Riley were married.
As a proper bride and groom should, they walked down the short aisle without looking to the left or right. Heaven forbid that someone might accuse the newlyweds of demonstrating “bad taste” by acknowledging their silent guests.
A minute later, Andi and Riley burst outside. She drew in a deep breath, enjoying the mouth-watering barbeque aroma to her heart’s content. As an extra gift from above, the usual scorching midday heat this time of year had dropped to bearable levels.
Andi knew this pleasant temperature would not last. If she wanted to dance and eat and enjoy the reception in her heavy wedding silks, she’d better not waste a moment. By late afternoon, she would be too hot to do more than sit in the shade and greet her well-wishers.
Andi clasped Riley’s hand and smiled up into his proud, happy face. “What about that first waltz, my knight in shining armor?”
Riley grinned from ear to ear. “Absolutely, my princess. Lead the way.”
*****
Andi lost count of the number of guests who swarmed into the Carters’ spacious backyard that afternoon. They admired the decorations swaying in the breeze and the profusion of flowers of all kinds and colors. They consumed quantities of Circle C prime beef, Luisa’s famous tamales, mounds of creamy whipped potatoes, and trays and trays of fresh fruit and small, decorated cakes. As the temperature climbed, they drank gallons of iced lemonade.
The Circle C ranch hands had outdone themselves putting the outdoor dance floor in order. They swept it clean. Not one speck of dust marred the hard-packed surface. Sid McCoy shook his nephew’s hand until Riley grimaced like it might fall off. Sid then took Andi’s shoulders and drew her close. For the first time in her life, the old foreman planted a fatherly kiss on her cheek.
“Welcome to the family,” Sid murmured with shining eyes. “I reckon you finally did grow up, and I’m mighty pleased.”
After recovering from her surprise at Sid’s kind remarks, she smiled and hugged him.
The rest of the afternoon passed in a whirl of merriment. True to Andi’s prediction, the day turned blistering. She felt sticky with sweat under her tight, hot stays. Her veil offered no protection from the bright sun, but she dared not ask her young nieces, Betsy and Hannah, to run find her wide-brimmed hat.
No, indeed! A black Stetson did not go well with her formal, white wedding dress.
As the afternoon grew hotter, Andi felt more like a limp noodle than a fresh bride. She sought out the shadiest part of the yard and headed for it, much like a snake seeking respite from the sun’s scorching rays.
Andi sat down on the bench and winced. What a terrible comparison! How could she think of snakes on her wedding day? Riley would certainly get a kick out of it when she told him.
A smile played across her lips imagining Riley’s reaction. She leaned back against the valley oak’s rough bark and closed her eyes. This feels much better.
“You look beautiful today, Mrs. Prescott.”
Andi’s eyes flew open, and she sat up.
Riley slid onto the bench beside her. “I’m happy to just sit here and look at you.”
Heat jumped into Andi’s cheeks before she could order her emotions back into a corner. Mrs. Prescott? That sounded like an old lady, not a girl who had turned eighteen years old only a month ago.
Riley sure seemed to enjoy saying it, though. He’d called her “Mrs. Prescott” about a dozen times already, ever since the ceremony ended three hours ago.
A stray thought tickled Andi’s mind before she could shoo it away. What have I gotten myself into?
Yesterday she’d been a free and laughing young girl. She and her colt, Shasta, had ridden all over the Circle C ranch from dawn ’til dusk. Her only worry had been wondering if big brother Chad would find something to boss her about.
Andi smiled. At least that part of her life was over. No more big-brother bossing!
Riley chuckled. “What are you smiling about?”
“Chad can’t ever boss me again.”
His eyebrows shot up. “That’s what you’re thinking about on your wedding day?” He burst out laughing.
Andi felt the heat in her cheeks spread over her face and down her neck. Good thing the sun was hot and bright. It would look like a sunburn.
She ducked her head until Riley put his arm around her. “I’m sorry, my princess. I couldn’t help it. You always make me laugh. Don’t ever change. I want you to make me laugh every day.”
That shouldn’t be too hard, Andi thought. It didn’t take much to make life-loving Riley Prescott laugh or break into a wide smile. “All right,” she agreed. “Just so long as you promise never to boss me. I’ve had enough of that for eighteen years, and I’m done with it.”
“Cross my heart,” Riley said solemnly. “I love you too much to boss you.”
“I love you too,” Andi whispered.
She peeked past her new husband and studied the crowd from this shady, out-of-the-way spot. Everybody was laughing, eating, and dancing despite the rising temperature.
The Mexican music reached a fever pitch. Old Diego strummed his guitar as if he were a young vaquero again.
“¡Otra vez, otra vez!” the Mexican guests chanted when Diego paused to rest. He laughed, nodded, and played another song, one even faster than the previous tune.
It looked inviting, if only Andi were allowed to change clothes and rest awhile before the next round of merrymaking. She slumped against Riley’s shoulder and stifled a yawn. “I’m tired.”
“I know.” Riley squeezed her hand. “It’s been a long day. I feel a little glassy-eyed myself.”
The wedding ceremony had been a quiet family affair, but the barbeque reception afterward swelled with more well-wishers than Andi had expected. It appeared that half the valley had accepted the Carters’ invitation, and nobody looked in a hurry to leave.
“I had no idea your family would host so many guests,” Riley said. “I’ve talked to every friend and relative you have.” He grinned.
“Well, not every relative.” It was Andi’s turn to smile. “Uncle Benjamin, Aunt Lydia, and Daniel weren’t able to attend.” Thank goodness, she added quietly. Even after two years, Andi’s knee sometimes twitched painfully, a stark reminder of how her cousin had nearly destroyed all their lives.
“Thank the good Lord for small blessings,” Riley murmured. “I don’t miss that young man’s company.”
A loud yee-haw brought the couple around. Across the yard, two scruffy-looking soldiers descended on Riley’s father, Captain Prescott, and slapped him on the back in congratulations. His glass of lemonade went flying.
“I’ve met all your relatives and friends too.” Andi giggled at Riley’s embarrassed look. “Half the soldiers from those forts you lived at showed up for the barbeque. I was sure there must be an Indian uprising somewhere when I saw all those blue uniforms.”
“Pa’s men have some rough edges,” Riley admitted, “but they’re good soldiers.” He shook his head. “They’ve added a bit of extra commotion to this gala, I’m afraid.”
Andi didn’t worry about the wedding festivities spiraling out of control. Her brothers would keep things well in hand. She glanced up through the oak leaves at the blazing, late-afternoon sun. Fatigue swept over her in another wave.
As much fun as this fiesta had been, Andi was ready to admit she’d had her fill. Too much sun. Too many people. How much longer before she and Riley could slip away to start their Yosemite wedding trip?
Andi had never been to Yosemite, but she’d heard plenty about its natural wonders from the townsfolk who had made the trip. When the Fresno Daily Expositor ran a story about trailblazer John Muir’s efforts to turn the wilderness into a national park, Andi plopped the newspaper onto Riley’s lap. “I’d like to go here for our honeymoon.”
Not everyone had expressed enthusiasm for the young couple’s destination choice, however. Melinda let out a disappointed groan when she learned Andi wanted to explore the High Sierra. Big sister sang the praises of her own bridal trip with Peter Wilson to San Francisco a year and a half ago. The opera! The Palace Hotel! The Embarcadero!
Andi shook her head. San Francisco held no good memories. It was the last place she would choose for any destination, much less a weeklong honeymoon. No sirree! Yosemite sounded like heaps more fun than the city. “And the sooner, the better.”
“What did you say?” Riley asked.
“Oh, just wishing we could—”
“So, this is where you two snuck off to,” Chad greeted, strolling up. “I haven’t had a spare moment this afternoon to wish you congratulations, little sister.” He winked. “You know, of course, that Justin and I arm wrestled to see who would walk you down the aisle in Father’s place.”
Andi rolled her eyes. “Sure you did.” It was never a contest. Justin had taken over for Father more than ten years ago.
Laughing, Chad pulled Andi off the bench and into a hug. “I’m going to miss you.”
“I’m not moving back east,” she retorted. “You know our new place is only a half-hour ride on a fast horse.”
“Ah, but you are so much easier to tease when we’re living under the same roof.”
The flamboyant Mexican music suddenly slowed to a waltz. Chad cocked his head to listen. Then he took Andi’s hand and looked at Riley. “One more dance with my sister?”
When Riley nodded, Chad led Andi across the yard to the dance circle. He kissed the top of her head and whispered, “For luck.”
*****
Andi wriggled out of her hot, heavy silk gown. She carefully hung it from the top edge of her wardrobe and added her veil. “You are very pretty,” she told her wedding apparel, “but certainly not suited for a week in the wilderness.”
She wasted no time slipping into her familiar split skirt and plaid shirt. Then she unbound her stiff bun and braided the mass of dark waves into one long, thick plait. “There,” she declared to the floor-length mirror. “I’m back to the Andi that Riley knows and loves.”
Before she looked away, Andi caught the reflection of a gold ring encircling her finger. A cobalt-blue sapphire with diamond chips on either side sparkled. A warm glow enveloped her when she remembered Riley’s words on the day he’d presented it to her.
“I want you to wear a ring that matches your eyes.”
It was a beautiful ring. “I will never take it off,” she promised her reflection.
“Andrea,” her mother’s voice called from the hallway. “You’ll miss the train if you don’t hurry.”
Andi glanced around her room. She thought this morning was the last time she would linger in her childhood surroundings. But no. She’d forgotten she had to change, so this time really was the last time.
The Circle C was no longer her home. Even on Sunday dinner visits, this would not be her room. “Don’t be silly,” she scolded herself. “Riley and I have a house of our own. That will be my home.”
Still, Andi couldn’t stop the shiver that skittered up her spine. She had just taken a major step in life. What had she written in her journal this morning? I will always remember June 12, 1886, as my most memorable milestone.
She smiled. Her journal whispered the truth. The wedding ceremony was memorable, and the reception even more so. She would never forget the laughter, the food, the dancing, and being together with her family and her new husband.
Everything had gone perfectly. Then why was she feeling such a sudden, inexplicable wave of anxiety?
“Andrea!” Mother’s voice grew insistent.
“Coming!” Andi called.
No time for further musing. Her guests waited downstairs. She and Riley must say their good-byes. Andi squared her shoulders, picked up her traveling satchel, and left her childhood room behind once and for all.
Chapter 2
Madera, California, June 13, 1886
Today is my first full day of being Mrs. Andrea Prescott. I confess, this whole idea of being married is a little hard to get used to.
“Wake up, Andi.”
Andi snuggled deeper under the fluffy quilts. “Go away.”
She knew what would happen next. One of her brothers would splash water on her head, but she was too tired to care. She kept her eyes tightly shut.
When no water sprayed her face, she opened one eye.
Riley sat next to her on the bed. “We’re not going to catch that stagecoach to Yosemite if you don’t get a move-on.”
Andi blinked. Visions of being rousted from bed for school flew from her head.
Silly goose, she chided herself. She hadn’t been in school for over a year. Well, if she didn’t count her short term as a substitute teacher last winter.
Her mind cleared. No more school. Not ever. No more mean brothers trying to pull her out of bed on school days. No more icy water in her face.
She was so happy she sat up and flung her arms around Riley’s neck. “Good morning! What time is it?”
“Eight-fifteen.” He untangled Andi’s arms and stood up. A few strides took him to the window where he flung the curtains aside. “The sun’s been up for hours, sleepyhead. Stage leaves at nine-thirty.”
Andi’s exhaustion from the day before overwhelmed her just then. She fell back against the pillows and tried to remember how yesterday’s reception had ended. Saying good-bye to hundreds of guests? A fuzzy blur.
Dodging handfuls of rice and the occasional thrown slipper? She certainly remembered that. Rice speckled her hair all the way to the railroad depot in town. And why did people throw shoes and slippers at the departing bride and groom? What a silly tradition!
“We don’t have to go if you’re tuckered out,” Riley said. “We can stay in Madera.” He pressed his nose against the windowpane. “Though, I’m not thinking there’s much to do or see here.”
“No, I’m fine.” She threw aside the bedcovers and hurried to the washroom to splash water on her face and get ready.
The Yosemite Hotel was a dream come true. Rustic but with modern conveniences, like a private washroom instead of sharing one down the hall with the other guests. I reckon that’s why they call it the bridal suite. It must have cost a fortune.
Andi didn’t know how long it took other brides to wash, dress, and do up their hair, but she managed it in fifteen minutes. As a final, finishing touch, she let her braid hang down her back. All too soon, a gossipy old matron would likely tell her to put it up now that she was a married woman, but until then she could avoid a headache.
Besides, Riley liked Andi’s hair down. “What’s the point of putting all that lovely hair up where nobody can see it?” he’d complained more than once after a Sunday service.
Very forward thinking, that young man.
Riley had been up for at least an hour. He was shaved and dressed in his familiar duds—a long-sleeved shirt, dungarees, high-topped boots, and a vest to hold odds and ends. His waist sported a shiny silver buckle and new leather belt, Andi’s wedding gift to him. His jacket lay slung over a chair, topped by his broad-brimmed Stetson.
The newlyweds breakfasted in the hotel dining room along with eight or nine other people, who were obviously headed up into the mountains. An older gentleman and his wife, both white-haired and jolly-looking, chatted at the table next to Andi and Riley.
Across the room, two young couples ate heartily. It wasn’t hard to overhear their conversation.
“Do you think we’ll be robbed on this trip?” a young lady with tightly pulled-back hair and a pouting lower lip asked the waiter as he served them.
“Oh, no, madam. There is no danger at all.”
The woman’s mouth showed even more of a pout. “Oh, that’s too bad. I do wish we were.”
Andi rolled her eyes at the silly comment. Who would wish to be robbed? She caught Riley’s amused grin.
“Greenhorns,” he whispered.
Just like everyone else for miles around, Andi knew the stories. The Yosemite Stage had its full share of robberies. Highwaymen hid and waited, usually where the coach slowed down around the steep mountain curves.
That’s when the thieves popped out and demanded the strongbox. They also took watches, rings, money, and even buttons.
But that was all the robbers ever did.
One would think that the reports that showed up in the Expositor newspaper during tourist season would scare visitors away. Instead, the incidents were looked on as romantic.
Adventure for the city folks, Andi thought with a giggle. The idea of a romantic encounter with a real, live highwayman in the dark forests surrounding a mountain road clearly added excitement to the women’s otherwise dreary lives.
“Be assured, Miss Barbara,” the woman’s tall, blond companion was saying. “I and the other gentlemen aboard the stage will stay alert for any kind of confrontation.”
Riley stifled a snort, and Andi nearly choked on her orange juice. “Time to go,” she whispered. “Before I change my mind.”
Riley gave her a puzzled frown. “You scared of getting held up?”
“Not at all. However, I might not want to spend six hours stuffed in a stagecoach with this present company.”
“I see your point.” Riley rose and helped Andi with her chair.
“Will you be one of those gallant young show-offs to come to our rescue, Sir Galahad?” Andi quipped.
“Indeed, I will, my princess.”
Chuckling, Riley and Andi left the dining room. They were first in line on the wide veranda when the Yosemite Stage and Turnpike coach rolled to a stop in front of the hotel.
The coach looked spanking new. It was painted bright red with large, red-and-yellow spoked wheels. It wasn’t like other stagecoaches Andi had seen in the valley, though. For one thing, there were no doors. Instead, the sides lay wide open to the air . . . and the dust and dirt.
“Step right up, folks,” the driver called from his seat in front.
Andi stepped into the coach. Three rows faced forward, not including the driver’s, which rested a little higher. Each bench seat looked like it could hold four passengers, or five in a pinch.
Another man stashed everyone’s luggage in a boot at the back of the coach. A Yosemite adventure was not a day trip. By the time the stage pulled into the Mariposa Grove six or seven hours later, the passengers would be too tired from rattling and bumping around to ooh and ahh at the giant sequoias.
One needed a good night’s sleep to appreciate Yosemite.
Riley found seats for himself and Andi in the first row, just behind the driver. “Less jarring,” he whispered in her ear.
Andi nodded and looked out. She had a sudden urge to ask Riley to trade places with her. There was no door, and no sturdy side. If the horses raced around a curve, she might be tossed out like the end boy in a game of crack-the-whip.
A man with a moustache and hair that curled around his ears settled himself next to Riley. “Howdy.”
“Howdy yourself,” Riley answered.
The man leaned back. “First time up to the valley?”
Riley nodded. “But we’ve heard lots about it. You been there before?”
“My brothers and I run the Wawona Hotel,” he replied. “Came down to Madera on yet another business trip. I look forward to going home.”
“Hey, Henry!” The driver poked his head through the opening. “Mind riding up with me? Got extra passengers this trip.”
The man sighed. “Reckon so, Eddie.” He tipped his hat to Andi. “Have a good trip, ma’am, sir. Wait ’til you see the giant sequoias in Mariposa Grove. You’ll get an eyeful, no two ways about it.”
Chapter 3
Sierra wilderness, June 13, 1886
“I forgot what a rough ride these stagecoaches give a person.” Andi shifted her weight on the hard bench for the dozenth time in an hour. “I can’t believe we paid forty-five dollars each for the privilege of being churned like butter.”
What a crazy way to spend a honeymoon! Melinda’s laughing voice suddenly echoed in Andi’s head.
For once, Andi was forced to agree with her sister. A horseback trek along the Yosemite Valley trails would be much more to her liking than being stuffed into this rattling sardine can.
Every spot on the coach was filled. Along with Henry Washburn, two male passengers sat in the driver’s seat, wedged in next to the driver. Inside, the rest were laid out like sardines, with not a speck of free space to stretch.
Two men shared Andi and Riley’s front-row seat. The man closest to the other side of the coach had rusty-red hair, a close-shaven face, and a quick smile. He pulled out his harmonica and played a jaunty tune to pass the time.
Squeezed between the harmonica player and Riley, an older man clutched a wide, flat case on his lap. When he caught Andi’s curious look, he smiled.
“Howdy, ma’am.” He tipped his hat. “Might I interest you in a reliable derringer?”
Andi stiffened. “No, thank you.” She never wanted to see another of those tiny pistols again, not so long as she lived. Once was enough. She’d used one to shoot her captor, Mateo Vega, in the belly just over a year ago. Then she’d thrown Lucy’s empty derringer far and wide.
“Don’t be hasty,” the salesman urged. “I carry all types and brands. The Remington Model 95 Double Deringer is the best protection on the market for ladies. Why settle for one shot when you can have—”
“We’re not interested.” Riley cut him off, and Andi relaxed.
Just behind them on the second row, the two couples from breakfast laughed and joked. “We sure don’t have holidays like this in Chicago,” one gentleman said.
“It is quite exciting,” the young lady named Barbara agreed.
The back seat held an older gentleman and his wife. They hadn’t said a word so far, at least as far as Andi could tell. They were hemmed in on either side by two business-type men.
Conversation was hard to keep track of over the rattling and banging. All except for the derringer salesman. He held the harmonica player captive with a lengthy spiel on the merits of his various handguns.
Andi tuned him out, braced herself to keep from sliding, and endured. Yosemite was worth the inconvenience.
Nearly five long, bumpy hours later, Riley’s hand encircled Andi’s waist. “Steady. We’re coming to another curve.” He peered past Andi to the rough terrain just outside the coach. “Looks like a hairpin turn. Hold on.”
Andi shifted her weight away from the open doorway, planted her feet, and leaned against Riley. The horses slowed to a crawl. Not only was it a hairpin turn, but it was also uphill.
The worst turn so far.
Just then, the coach’s front wheel struck a rock in the road, jarring the coach and jolting the passengers. They yelped and shifted. Andi landed on Riley’s lap then bumped back into her seat.
“Sorry about that, folks,” the driver called. “We’ll be there in an hour or two. This here’s the Ahwahnee grade, not far below the Wawona Hotel.”
Andi gripped the support pole next to her seat. If we live to see it, she thought with a groan.
Another tune poured out from the harmonica player. The salesman seated next to him began to sing. Then Riley joined in.
Andi grinned. She’d heard this song about the California Stage Company many times.
There’s no respect for youth or age
On board the California Stage,
But pull and haul about the seats
As bedbugs do about the sheets..
Andi hummed along through the chorus and the rest of the verses, enjoying the truth in the song’s simple humor.
The ladies are compelled to sit
With dresses in tobacco spit.
The gentlemen don’t seem to care,
But talk on politics and swear.
The dust is deep in summertime,
The mountains very hard to climb,
And drivers often stop and yell,
“Get out, all hands, and push up hill.”
The coach’s wheel slammed over another large rock, and Andi’s humor vanished.
The stage eventually rounded the curve, but no one was given time to breathe sighs of relief. “Whoa!” the driver shouted.
Andi and Riley looked at each other as the stage came to a dusty, clattering standstill.
“Landslide?” one of the passengers wondered.
It was a reasonable cause for delay. The steep mountain slopes often gave way to boulders large and small. They tumbled down the mountainside and landed in the road.
Andi slumped in her seat. “Are we never going to get there?”
“Patience, sweetheart,” Riley replied. “This is all part of the adventure.”
“I reckon.” Andi couldn’t deny she was ready for supper, a bath, and a soft bed. The noon dinner stop a few hours earlier in Fresno Flats had faded to a dim memory. Andi leaned out her side of the coach. “I wonder how big the pile of rocks—”
She caught her breath. It wasn’t a landslide. It wasn’t a downed tree across the road.
It was two masked men.
Chapter 4
Unbelievable! Barbara’s silly wish has come true. Our stagecoach is being held up.
Andi’s throat felt dryer than the dust swirling around the coach.
Two bandits stood in the middle of the steep roadway, mere yards away from the stomping, snorting horses. Both men were dressed in black and wore their clothes inside out.
The smaller man was armed with a sawed-off shotgun, but it was the tall man who grabbed Andi’s attention. He held a .44 Colt pistol like he knew how to use it. This fellow meant business.
Andi ducked her head back inside the coach and tried to make herself small. “The stage is being held up,” she whispered to Riley.
His eyes widened. His fingers found hers and he squeezed. “Stay calm. If we do what they say, they’ll let us go on our way.” He smiled, but his hazel eyes turned dark with concern.
When the horses had settled down, the taller of the two men hollered, “All right, everybody out!”
From the seat behind Andi, Barbara gushed, “A robbery. A real-live robbery. How romantic!” She tittered and pretended to swoon against her companion.
Andi bit her lip and said nothing. Foolish young woman. There was nothing romantic about being robbed at gunpoint in the middle of nowhere.
The tall highwayman stomped to the coach’s open side. He yanked Andi’s arm and yelled, “I said get out!”
Andi flew from the stage but caught her balance just in time. She pushed away from the road agent and stormed, “Let go of me.”
He backed away and raised his pistol higher. “Shut up, miss, or else.”
Andi shut up. But she couldn’t help staring. There was something familiar about this man’s voice. Where had she heard it before? She peered up at him.
To her surprise, the highwayman stared back. The brown eyes behind his mask opened wide. Then he growled, “Get going,” and motioned Andi to stand clear of the rig.
Riley sprang from the stage. “We’ll do whatever you say. Rob us and be on your way.”
The highwayman jabbed his pistol into Riley’s chest. “I’m giving the orders here, cowboy.”
Andi puckered her brow at his tone of voice. I think I know him.
“What are you waiting for?” The tall robber poked his head inside the coach and waved his pistol around. “Do I have to yank you all out? Get out!”
The rest of the passengers scurried from the coach.
The shorter highwayman waved his shotgun at the driver and the two others riding with him. “Throw down the box.”
Thunk! The heavy Wells Fargo strongbox landed in the road. It no doubt held the payroll for any loggers or other businesses up near Yosemite. One shot from the tall bandit’s Colt, and the lock sprung open. He lifted the lid and grunted his satisfaction at the contents.
“Shorty” lined the fifteen passengers and the driver up against the stagecoach. “Empty your pockets.” He removed his Stetson and placed it on the ground. “Put your money in the hat and be quick about it.”
The hotel owner, Henry Washburn, looked furious but said nothing. He dropped his pocketbook into the hat. Andi took her cue from him and kept silent. She had no reticule or any cash. Riley, however, tossed his pocketbook in with the others.
There goes our honeymoon, Andi mourned silently.
With frantic jingling, the hat began to fill up.
“You ladies.” The tall bandit motioned them with his pistol. “Take off your charms, bracelets, rings, and other jewelry and put them in the hat with the cash.” He dropped his own Stetson on the ground. “Fill it up, folks.”
Barbara yanked the earrings from her lobes and dropped them in the hat. When she passed the road agent, she batted her eyelashes at him. “I do hope you won’t hurt us.”
“Shut up.” He yanked a diamond-studded brooch from the lace at Barbara’s throat. “Don’t forget this, ma’am.” He chuckled and tossed it in the hat.
Barbara pressed her lips together and returned to the arm of her companion.
Male passengers added their watches and cuff links. When the bandit waved his gun in front of Riley’s silver belt buckle, he sighed and began to remove his belt.
Andi choked back a cry. Riley had worn her wedding gift to him for only one day. She opened her mouth to protest, but Riley shook his head. He looped the belt and lowered it into the hat.
“Quite a haul today, Big T.” Shorty grinned. “Two hats’ worth, especially after we empty the strong box.”
Big T nodded and turned back to the passengers. “Please, your buttons too.”
Gasps rose.
He laughed. “Not from the ladies’ frocks, but from the gents’ shirts. I see some of you wearing pearl buttons.” He singled out the older couple. “Hurry up.”
The older gentleman was clearly a rich man. He popped his shirt and sleeve cuff buttons off and dropped them into the second hat. His wife trembled. Her face had turned chalk white.
Andi’s blood boiled. How dare these lowdown thieves terrorize an old man and an old woman!
“You there,” Shorty snapped.
Andi whirled.
“Yes, you. Hold out your hands.”
Andi’s stomach turned over, but she did what she was told. Sparkling in the sunlight, her brand-new wedding band—the one with the pretty blue sapphire and tiny diamonds—came into view.
“Toss that ring in with the others,” Shorty ordered.
Andi thrust her hands behind her back. Never! she screamed silently. She’d had this ring for barely a day. She’d promised herself that she would never take it off.
“Andi,” Riley said gently, “give the man your ring.”
“I can’t. It’s stuck tight.”
Big T snapped his head around. His eyes narrowed, as if he had guessed correctly about something. “We’ve got enough loot. Wouldn’t want to cut off the little girl’s finger just for a ring.”
Not funny, Andi thought.
The robbers stooped over to collect their stolen treasure. “Let’s get outta here.”
A sudden flash of movement and two loud bangs told Andi that the derringer salesman had taken matters into his own hands. She and Riley dove for cover.
The other ladies screamed.
Andi raised her head in time to see the salesman toss his Double Derringer aside and dig into his case for another small pistol.
Shorty’s shotgun went off, and the salesman dropped to the ground.
Andi squeezed her eyes shut. Had the road agent killed him?
“Fool,” Shorty muttered. He walked over and looked in the case. “These are some right-nice derringers.”
The short robber should not have turned his back for even a second.
“Let’s overpower them, men!” the driver shouted. “It’s twelve against two.”
Leaping forward, the stage driver and Henry Washburn flew at the highwaymen. The driver snaked an arm around Shorty and began to wrestle him for the shotgun.
Big T moved like lightning. Before Andi or Riley could react, Big T grabbed Andi by the arm. Pulling her to her feet, he jammed his pistol against her temple. She winced.
“That’s enough,” Big T barked. “Let my partner go.”
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