The Outlaw's Secret. Stacy Henrie

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СКАЧАТЬ more of my time arguing with you. Will you please—”

      His entreaty disappeared beneath the commotion of approaching horses. The other three robbers rode up to the train, leading two riderless mounts behind them. “What’s the holdup?” one of them hollered. “We gotta go before that guard recovers.”

      Essie seized the opportunity. “Which of you gentlemen is called Fletcher?”

      “Who’s askin’?” The tallest of the three stared hard at her, his gray-blue eyes cold and calculating. She’d have to keep an extra watch on him.

      “I’m a writer,” she answered, drawing herself up to full height and maintaining her own level gaze. “I would like to interview you. All of you. I would like to immortalize your lives in fiction.”

      Fletcher gave a smirk. “Very flattering, lady, but we’re on a schedule.” He wheeled his horse around. “Clem? Tex? You comin’ or not?”

      “Wait.” She moved to the railing, her valise clutched tightly against her chest. “My name is Essie. Essie Vanderfair.”

      The name stopped the gang leader at once, as she’d known it would. “Vanderfair?” He looked her over with blatant interest. “You related to Henry Vanderfair? The railway tycoon?”

      Essie dipped a nod. “He’s my great-grandfather.” It was the truth, though she hadn’t ever met the man or spoken with him.

      “Fletcher,” the Texan interjected from behind, “let’s go. Leave her be.”

      The man pushed up the brim of his hat. “Hold on a minute there, cowboy. We might be lookin’ at a real nice ransom if we bring her along. I heard the Vanderfairs have more money than Rockefeller. And I’m sure they’d pay handsomely for the safe return of one of their own.” He turned to Essie as he added, “But only after you get your interviews.”

      “So you’d kidnap her?” The Texan crossed his arms and glared at their leader.

      Fletcher glowered right back. “What are you, the law? Besides, it ain’t kidnapping. Not if she comes of her own volition.”

      “And I do.” Essie traversed the train steps with purpose, her chin high. “I assure you, gentlemen, I will not be a burden.”

      She heard a snort above her, but she ignored the Texan. Her appeals were best directed toward the group’s true leader.

      “I will make your robberies famous, Mr. Fletcher. I’ll share your tales of danger and riches to the world. Without using your actual names, of course.”

      He tipped his hat in acquiescence. “Of course,” he echoed, his smile more sly than affable. He thought he had the upper hand, but he’d underestimated the skills she’d picked up over the years, both on the ranch and as a novelist. Which was fine by her—she preferred to be underestimated by everyone except her publisher.

      “Does that mean I may come along?”

      “Don’t see why not.”

      “Fletcher,” the Texan said, the name a warning.

      But the robber leader waved Essie toward the horses. “We need to meet up at camp by dark.”

      She pushed out the breath she’d been holding and hugged her valise. She’d done it—she’d convinced them, and now she would be the victor instead of Victor Daley. An astonished laugh bubbled out of her. “What is our final destination, Mr. Fletcher?”

      “Our hideout. And that’s where you can interview me, Miss Vanderfair.”

      * * *

      Tate Beckett’s jaw was clenched so tight he thought it might snap. Of all the rotten misfortune. He had to run into a nosy busybody like Miss Essie Vanderfair on his first job with Fletcher’s gang. If he wasn’t careful, this woman, with all her probing questions, would figure out he wasn’t the Texas Titan after all. Then his covert work, posing as his outlaw twin brother, would be finished.

      No, he thought, his teeth grinding in resolve. He wouldn’t let her ruin his plans. Not when he was on the most important case of his career as a Pinkerton detective.

      “If she comes,” Tate announced, stalking down the steps, “she rides with me.”

      Fletcher shrugged. “Fine. Jude and I will head east, then cut back west to the campsite. The three of you will head in the opposite direction and then veer east. Silas and Clem know the way to the camp.”

      Without a backward glance, Fletcher and Jude charged off at a gallop.

      “Why are you splitting up?” Essie asked him, her gaze following the other two men.

      Releasing a soft grunt of impatience, Tate climbed into the saddle of his horse. “Because no one will suspect two or three men riding together, when they’re looking for five.”

      “Ah. Very clever.”

      He reached a hand down to help her up. The wide-eyed look she gave him as she placed her palm in his resurrected the churning frustration in his gut. Now his focus would have to be divided between paying attention to the trail on the way to the gang’s hideout and playing nursemaid to this young lady so she didn’t get hurt.

      “Thank you,” she said brightly as he pulled her onto the horse. As if he were taking her for a Sunday buggy ride instead of bringing her to the hideout of a gang of wanted outlaws.

      Tate rolled his eyes. As she situated herself behind him, she managed to jab him in the back with the handle of her valise—twice. It was going to be a long ride.

      Urging his horse forward, he allowed Silas and Clem to take the lead as the three of them rode across the Wyoming plain. Low hills were visible in the distance.

      “Do you know what you’re doing?” The question escaped Tate’s mouth before he’d even finished thinking it.

      “Riding a horse? Yes.” She joined her hands around his waist as if to prove her point. “I’ve done this countless times.”

      He shook his head. Not just at her words but to dismiss how nice it felt to ride with a woman again—something he hadn’t done in years. Not since Ravena. Tate pushed thoughts of the dark-haired girl back to the deepest recesses of his mind, a place where they’d stayed put for the last eight years. Right beside the regret and guilt he still harbored for Tex, his twin brother.

      “I mean coming with us, Miss Vanderfair.” He didn’t bother disguising the irritation in his voice.

      “As I said earlier, I want to interview you.” She shifted her weight, poking him with her valise again. He ground his teeth over a growl.

      “Why?” he countered, eager to riddle out her true motives. After all, that was his job as a detective.

      “Because I’m an authoress of dime novels. I pen stories of romance and adventure.” Her tone held a touch of pride.

      “A fine occupation but—”

      An amused sniff sounded at his back and interrupted his interrogation. “I’m perfectly СКАЧАТЬ