Chapter 1Darkness filtered through the small window next to Leon Stroud’s head, for once caused by midnight rather than the soot and smoke from the train’s engine. He needed to sleep. That’s what anyone with half a brain would do. Most of the passengers taking the long trip from Salt Lake City to California were doing just that, including two of his three traveling companions. Nine-year-old Woody had his head in his mother’s lap, while she in turn leaned against her husband’s shoulder.
Inwardly, Leon snorted. Husband. He hadn’t seen that one coming. When he and his partner had taken refuge from a blizzard two months earlier, they’d only been seeking a hideout and some help for Leon’s busted ankle. Within two weeks, Kenneth was in love, asking to take Amy along, and now Mr. and Mrs. Lawson couldn’t take their hands off each other. Amy was a pretty enough lady—nice enough, too, he supposed—but he and Kenneth had been partners for five years, ever since Leon had found the then sixteen-year-old trying to make it on his own. It was tough thinking it was over now. Because no matter how much Kenneth might say otherwise, things would never be the same again.
He met those familiar gray eyes now. “You should be sleeping, too,” he quietly admonished.
“And why aren’t you asleep?”
Leon smirked. “‘Cause I don’t have a soft bedwarmer to relax me.”
“It’d be better if we were in an actual bed. I can’t sleep sitting up like this.”
That was the truth. They’d chosen the most direct route from Salt Lake they could, which meant three days before their first stop in California. The fewer people who saw them, the better. Being wanted for stagecoach robbing and murder—even when you hadn’t killed a soul—had a way of making you stand out in a crowd.
“Won’t be too much longer now.” Leon stretched his leg, grimacing at the pain radiating through his ankle. “And if I never sit so long on my ass again, it’ll be too soon.”
Kenneth smiled sympathetically. “It’s better than being stuck on the back of a horse or in a wagon. Warmer, too. Your foot okay? Amy said she could wrap it again. The pressure might help.”
Mention of Amy drew his gaze back to the soft curve of her cheek. Dark hair spilled over her skin, her mouth full and pouty in sleep. She was older than Kenneth by fifteen years or so, another reason Leon had warned Kenneth about getting involved, but she didn’t look it. With her spirit, Kenneth was going to have a hard time keeping up with her.
“Nah,” Leon said softly. “Not worth waking her up to make the fuss.”
“She wouldn’t say it’s a fuss.” Kenneth touched her cheek tenderly, his callused fingers looking rough against her much smoother skin. “Still, I want her to get some sleep. I think this is the first time she’s shut her eyes since we boarded.”
The unspoken reasons hung between them. Amy had risked a lot, forgiving Kenneth when she’d found out they were wanted men. She’d hidden them away from the law for the two months Leon needed for his ankle, agreeing to wait on marriage until they reached Salt Lake City. If they got caught, she would be in as much trouble as they were. Even worse, she had a son to protect. It was no wonder she worried.
“Maybe I’ll stretch my legs for a bit.” Leon stood and tested the weight on his ankle. It hurt, but the dull ache was more tolerable if he was moving. “You don’t need me talking your ear off and keeping you from sleeping.”
“I don’t mind you keeping me from sleeping,” Kenneth murmured, but he did nothing to stop Leon from turning away.
Amy and Woody weren’t the only ones sleeping. Most of the passengers in the rocking car were twisted in some semblance of rest, heads leaning against windows like Leon had tried, mouths open as soft snores drifted down the center aisle. Each step he took was painful, but he welcomed it. He was walking. That was the important thing. Better to be walking than not.
He paused at the door at the end of the car, gaining his equilibrium before sliding it open. A blast of cool spring air cut into his lungs, and Leon bowed his head as he quickly crossed the gap to the next car. Winter wasn’t completely gone, but the weather would be milder in California. He thought Kenneth’s plan to try and settle in Salinas was still more than a little optimistic, but he was willing to give it a try. For Kenneth’s sake.
His thoughts wandered. He lost track of how far he went, how many train cars he walked, until one stuck door made him pause. He bent his head, gritting his teeth as he struggled to loosen it from its track, but nothing he did made a difference. With a frustrated sigh, he stepped back, glancing over his shoulder as he contemplated the trek back to his seat.
That was when he saw the man. Staring at him from a seat a third of the way down the car.
A wide brimmed hat pulled over his brow, shading deep brown eyes. Black hair curled over his ears and neck, and a short, recently trimmed beard covered most of the man’s strangely unmarked face. Thomas Grady. Leon knew him by reputation and by sight, though their paths had only briefly crossed once.
Coming face to face with a bounty hunter wasn’t Leon’s idea of a good time at the best of times. Coming face to face with Thomas Grady with a price on his head was a little bit like looking Death in the eye.
If he’d been an optimist, Leon would have hoped Grady hadn’t recognized him. It had been two years since they’d last seen each other, and then not even by the light of day. He and Kenneth had been in New Mexico, in the process of getting new horses. One of the whores at the saloon had worked Kenneth up into a tizzy and proceeded to go off with another guy, so Leon had dragged his best friend out behind the stables to help him out.
That’s when Grady had seen them. In the shadows of twilight, with Leon on his knees, sucking Kenneth off. He hadn’t said a word, and Kenneth hadn’t even noticed since he had his eyes squeezed shut. Leon had frozen for a split second, until his buddy’s fingers tightened on his head. Continuing was his only choice. He never took his eyes off Grady, and when the man melted into the darkness as Kenneth shot into his throat, Leon watched the space he had filled. Waiting for marshals that never came.
Leon turned back to the stuck door. The back of his neck burned. He held little doubt that Grady recognized him. To assume otherwise invited danger. But Grady couldn’t do anything on the train. He was one of the best, willing to shoot a man’s foot off in order to get him to stop running, but he wouldn’t do it in front of women and children who might get hurt. A deep well of honor ran through him.
The door wasn’t going to open. If he didn’t turn around soon, he would only invite even more suspicion. Hunching beneath his coat, he turned to make his way back to his car. He never looked at Grady again, but several seats away, he faked a violent sneeze, reaching into his pocket to pull out his faded bandanna in order to blow his nose. It effectively hid his face as he passed, but he didn’t dare risk looking back to see if Grady still tracked him. He couldn’t even look back when he slid open the door at the end of the aisle.
In the next car, he ditched his coat, swapping it with a man sleeping by himself. In the car after that, he did the same with his hat. No footsteps echoed behind him, no evidence that Grady had followed. By the time Leon reached his seat, he’d even lost his bandanna, tossed into the darkness before he’d entered the car.
“We got trouble,” he said to Kenneth, his gaze darting around to make sure nobody was awake to listen in. “Thomas Grady’s on board.”
Kenneth visibly started, though not hard enough to disturb Amy’s sleep. “Did he see you?”
“Yes. Which means we’ve got to split up.”
“Split up? Do you mean you’re getting off the train?”
Leon nodded. “And I’m going to find someplace else to hunker down for the night. You cover your face with your hat, keep Amy close, he won’t even notice you if he comes looking. You look like a family now. Then tomorrow, I’ll get off when we stop. If I make a scene, maybe he’ll follow me off. You and Amy can get on to Salinas then, no problem.”
“What are you going to do if he catches you?”
Though he felt anything but cocky, he grinned. “The only thing that ever slows me down is you. He’s not going to catch me.”
Kenneth didn’t look convinced, but he nodded. “I’ll check for a telegraph in San Francisco and when we get to Salinas.”
He wanted to be glib, but the prospect of being separated from Kenneth didn’t fill him with glee. Splitting up was their only option; they both knew Kenneth’s first priority now rested in protecting Amy and Woody. It hurt, but then he’d had six weeks of getting used to the fact that things were never going to be the same again. Leon had never said so, but he’d always thought it would just be the two of them against the world. He hadn’t envisioned an order that included a woman and her son.
But he wouldn’t take this away from Kenneth for anything. Kenneth loved Amy with everything he had. If she didn’t love him back just as hard, Leon might be a little less generous with his offer to lead Grady off their trail.
Except he would, and he was, and the longer Leon sat there, the more he risked Grady coming through and seeing them together.
“Don’t leave these two alone,” he warned. “There’s no telling if Grady’s the only one on board.”
“I won’t.” Kenneth reached over and grabbed his hand—the first non-incidental contact between them since Kenneth decided he was in love with Amy. “We can figure something else out. We’ve stayed one step in front of everybody before, Leon.”
The rough skin was achingly familiar. Leon had to stomp on the urge to pull Kenneth away from the sleeping pair and jump from the train right then. Everything had been better before this last robbery. That was when everything had all started going to hell. Kenneth’s words were hopeful, but ultimately, Leon knew what he had to do.
He squeezed Kenneth’s fingers, not quite strong enough to let him go yet. “If it was just the two of us, I’d say hell yeah. But any other plan’s only going to put Amy and Woody at more risk. I can’t do that to ‘em.”
“I know. I promised Amy I’d keep her safe. That this s**t would never hurt her. But I’ve made promises to you, too.”
“And you’ll have more than enough chance to keep ‘em. You’re not rid of me so easy, you know.”
“I know.” Kenneth finally released him. “We’ll have a place at the table for you in Salinas.”
Rising, Leon stretched before looking casually around. Nobody was paying him any attention. Good. It would be easier to slip away then.
“Just make sure that table’s got some of Amy’s biscuits. You know you can’t keep me away then.”
“I will. The train is scheduled to stop in Verdi in the morning. You should be able to find a place to hunker down, since we’ll still be in the mountains. Just be careful you don’t get eaten by a bear or something.”
“Nah, bears don’t want me.” He grinned as he tilted his hat back onto his head. “I’m too gamey.”
“Be careful anyway.” Amy stirred and Kenneth tightened his arm around her until she settled. He nodded at the saddlebags at his feet. “Be sure to take some money. You’ll need it for the fare down to Salinas.”
It all seemed so final. Leon crouched and rummaged around until he found their back-up stash, taking just what he needed. He didn’t even want to take that. If he had his say, he’d just ride to Salinas instead of taking the train.
Before he straightened, he took one final liberty. With everybody else asleep in the car, he crushed his lips to Kenneth’s, stealing the kiss he wished wasn’t the last.
Kenneth’s free hand curled in Leon’s shirt, and for a moment, everything felt normal again. It was just the two of them, and Kenneth didn’t need or want for anything, because he had Leon to provide for him. Except, Kenneth didn’t even taste the same anymore, and he could hear Amy sigh in her sleep. But that didn’t matter as much as it should have, because Kenneth didn’t push him away.
He didn’t speak, either, when Leon finally straightened. Just offered a strained, apologetic smile that made him look as young as his age.
“Be safe,” Leon said, retreating for the end of the car. “And keep my chair warm.”
He didn’t wait for a response. Clean break. Besides, it wasn’t like he wouldn’t see them again in a few days anyway.