“Now,” said Ann, “we’re going to leave you alone so you can sleep off that fever.”
Danielle slept all day and part of the night. She awakened, sweating. Ann sat on the foot of the bed, and she spoke.
“The fever’s broken. Now all you have to do is heal.”
“I’m obliged,” Danielle said. “You’ve done all this for me without knowing whether I’ve told you the truth about myself or not.”
“I saw the truth in your eyes,” said Ann, “but I’d have helped you even if you were an outlaw. The Good Book says we should not judge as we be not judged. It wasn’t up to me to decide if you were deserving or not. All I saw was the need.”
“You’re a good woman, Ann Willard,” Danielle said.
“I’m a sinful woman,” said Ann, her hands covering her face. “For five years I’ve been with Eph Snell because Anita and me were starving. I thought anything was better than that, but I don’t anymore. Snell’s a thief and a killer, and I fear what he may do if he comes back and finds you here.”
“Put my guns where I can reach them,” Danielle said, “and I’ll promise you he’ll get the surprise of his life.”
“It’s none of my business,” said Ann, “but can you tell me who shot you, and why?”
“It’s something I’m not proud of,” Danielle said, “but I’ll tell you the story.”
For the next few minutes she told of having to shoot Elmo and Ebeau Winters, and finally of the necessity of killing old Jubal, after he had bushwhacked her.
“You didn’t shoot anybody that didn’t deserve it,” said Anita, from behind the door.
“You’re supposed to be in bed asleep,” Ann said.
“I’m too excited to sleep,” said Anita. “When can we leave?”
“Not until Danielle heals enough to ride,” Ann said.
“Three more days,” said Danielle. “Just so I’m healed enough that the wounds won’t start bleeding again.”
The three days came and went without a sign of Eph Snell. Danielle was up and limping about, again with her binder in place, dressed like a man.
“It’s time we were going,” Danielle said. “Do you have saddles for your horses?”
“No,” said Ann, “but I’d crawl from here to Wichita on my hands and knees. We can ride bareback.”
Ann gathered her own and Anita’s few belongings, stuffing them in a gunnysack. The trio then rode north toward Wichita.
“I’ll stay with you in Wichita until there’s an eastbound train,” Danielle said. “Once we reach town, you can sell the horses you’re riding. That’ll give you some extra money. I’ll buy your train tickets from Wichita to St. Louis.”
“You’re too generous,” said Ann. “I’d gladly sell the horses, but I don’t have any bills of sale. I’m sure Eph stole them somewhere.”
“I’ll write you some bills of sale,” Danielle said. “By the time Snell figures it all out, you’ll be on your way to St. Louis, and well out of his reach.”
The trio reached Wichita. Inquiring, Danielle learned the next eastbound from the end-of-track wouldn’t reach Wichita until the following morning. Danielle bought two tickets to St. Louis, and Ann Willard wept for her generosity.
“Now I’ll get us a hotel room for the night,” said Danielle, “and we’ll see about selling those two horses.”
The bills of sale were not questioned, and Danielle collected seventy-five dollars for each of the horses.
“Here,” Danielle said, handing the money to Ann. “The horses brought a hundred and fifty dollars, and I’ve added some to that.”
Ann Willard was completely overwhelmed, and Anita’s eyes sparkled like stars.
Leading three horses, Eph Snell reached the deserted cabin in Indian Territory. He swore when he found the corral empty, and it took him only a few minutes to find tracks of three horses heading north. Leaving the three newly arrived horses in the corral, he mounted his horse and rode north, toward Wichita. He also carried a pair of tied-down Colts, and he had killing on his mind.
Chapter 14
Wichita, Kansas. November 22, 1870.
The eastbound was due at ten o’clock. Danielle had accompanied Ann and Anita to the railroad depot to await the train. Far down the track, they could hear the whistle blowing for the stop at Wichita.
“I can’t believe we’re actually leaving,” Ann said. “I feel like I’m dreaming.”
“We ain’t gone yet,” said Anita. “I won’t feel safe until we’re on the train and it’s on its way.”
With the clanging of its bell, the eastbound rolled in, and the locomotive began taking on water. The conductor stepped down from the one passenger coach, lowering the metal steps so that the passengers might enter. Up the track, beyond the train’s caboose, there came a horseman at a fast gallop.
“Ma,” Anita cried, “it’s him!”
“Dear God,” said Ann, “it’s Eph Snell.”
“Get aboard the train,” Danielle said. “I’ll delay him until you’re gone.”
“I can’t let you do it,” said Ann. “He’ll kill you.”
“I’ll risk it,” Danielle said. “Now get aboard the train.”
Ann and Anita had just entered the passenger coach when Snell reined up. Dismounting, he started toward Danielle. She spoke quietly.
“That’s far enough, Snell.”
Snell laughed. “So you know me.”
“I know of you,” Danielle said. “You’re a damn yellow-bellied, woman-beating coyote that walks on his hind legs like a man.”
It was the ultimate insult, and Snell drew. He was fast—incredibly fast—but Danielle had her Colt roaring by the time Snell pulled the trigger. His slug spouted dust on the ground in front of him. From the locomotive, the fireman and engineer had watched the entire affair. Suddenly, Ann and Anita were out of the coach, running toward Danielle. At the sound of shooting, the station agent came running from the depot. He eyed Danielle as she reloaded her Colt, directing his question at her.
“What’s the meaning of this?”
“Get the sheriff,” Danielle said, “and I’ll explain it all to him. I reckon you’d best keep this train here until the sheriff’s talked to the fireman and engineer. They saw it all.”
“I want to talk to the sheriff, too,” said Ann to Danielle. “I won’t leave until I know the law’s not holding you responsible.”
Others had heard the sound of distant gunfire, and men came on the run. One of them was Sheriff Bart Devlin. He eyed Danielle and spoke.
“Who’s the dead man?”
“Eph Snell, a horse thief and likely a killer,” Danielle said. “This is Ann and Anita Willard. I helped them to escape Snell, but he caught up to us and drew on me.”
“He pulled iron first, Sheriff,” the engineer said. “We saw him, didn’t we, Slim?”
“Yeah,” the fireman said, “and he was a fool. This young gent here could shoot the ears off John Wesley Hardin.”
“Now, ma’am,” Sheriff Devlin said to Ann, “sup pose you tell me where you figure into all this.”
Ann spoke swiftly, her eyes meeting those of Sheriff Devlin. When she paused to catch her breath, Anita spoke.
“He tore all my clothes off, and I had to hide from him in the woods.”
Shouts of anger erupted from the men who had gathered around.
“Sheriff,” said the station agent, “this train needs to be on its way. What more do you need of the fireman and engineer?”
“Probably nothing,” Sheriff Devlin said, “but just in case, write down their names and addresses for me. Then they can go.”
“I’m not going until I know you’re not in trouble for shooting him,” Ann told Danielle.