Chapter 9 #4
“Their only smart move was to go on to the mining museum. With luck they’re snowed in.”
“We haven't checked.” She glanced toward the window. “Odds are good we might be too.”
He grimaced. “We’ll find a way out, but how do we get to the museum without snowshoes?”
“I was thinking we’d use the snowmobile in the shed.”
“What?”
“See?” She grinned at him, delighted to surprise him. “You do need me.”
“Every damn day,” he admitted. “But I’m driving.”
She cocked an eyebrow, stared him down.
“Fine. You can drive, but only until we’re close. The best play is for me to go in alone, while you cover me from a distance.”
“And what can I do from a distance?” she asked.
“Keep watch, take pictures.” He handed her his cell phone. “Call it in if you can get a signal. There’s all kinds of ways to be helpful.”
“Mm-hm.” She planted her hands on her hips. “I’ll take that as an opening list. I reserve the right to step in as needed.”
“I can’t talk you out of that?”
“We’re a team or we’re not,” she said. She was zipping up her coat when she heard the whine of a snowmobile. “You hear that?” she asked. He nodded. “It has to be Cordell.” There wasn’t a single, legitimate reason for anyone to be out in this weather.
Wyatt darted across the room to the front window, then peered through the side window that wasn’t covered with ice and snow. “No visibility,” he stated. “Are there any weapons stashed around here that you haven’t mentioned?” he asked.
“There has to be a shotgun or rifle around here.” She dropped down to search the shelves under the counter while Wyatt searched the back rooms. “Nothing,” he said, coming back in. “I hate to think what that man did to get a snowmobile.”
“Grab the keys,” she murmured. “The mining museum has undergone a facelift in recent years.” He’d know that if he’d ever come back.
“A building remodel, new tours, maps and posters, along with equipment including, but not limited to, hosting a snowmobile club and garage. Really, my dad is the only one averse to progress these days. Everyone is doing cross-promotion.”
“That’s how he found us,” Wyatt grumbled. “I didn’t know he could read a map without an assistant.”
“Joke later,” she said. “Do we wait him out or what? He can’t be sure we’re in here.” Thank goodness he hadn’t built a fire. While the wind whipped everything into a blur, the scent of a fire out here would’ve made Cordell’s search easier.
“I should’ve taken a look around earlier,” Wyatt chided himself.
“And left tracks in the snow? That would’ve only clued him in faster.” She made sure the camp stove was cold and turned off the lantern. “Come on. We’ll take the back door,” she said with confidence. “It’s closer to the shed.” She tossed him the snowmobile keys.
He caught them and led the way down the hallway. At the back door, Wyatt unlocked the deadbolt and stepped in front of her again. Did he expect her to step outside and invite Cordell to shoot? When would he get it through his thick skull that she didn’t want to see him get hurt either?
They stood there together, listening as the snowmobile passed close to the building and around to the front of the store.
The sound died, followed quickly by heavy footsteps on the front porch.
She supposed it was too much to hope they were wrong and the snowmobile was part of a search and rescue party.
Wyatt scowled, his finger over his lips.
Any hope that the visitor might be friendly was dashed when two loud gunshots reverberated through the building.
“Jameson!”
Hearing Cordell’s shout, Wyatt turned the knob and put his shoulder to the back door, but it didn’t give more than an inch. Snow sifted in around their feet. This exit route was blocked.
Evie started for the window with the least amount of snow, backpedaling when a shadow approached from the other side.
“It’s them,” Baker’s voice carried from the other side of the glass.
Behind her, Wyatt swore.
“Jameson, get out here. We need to talk.” Tate’s voice slithered over her skin.
She pulled Wyatt toward the storage room. “Hold the door,” she ordered.
Wyatt cursed. “We’re trapped, Evie.”
She didn’t waste time with a reply. She pulled a rolling ladder into place and scrambled up to open the attic access door. “Hurry.”
Wyatt followed her, kicking the ladder back as he ducked inside. “Really trapped,” he said as Tate crashed into the store, shouting and swearing.
He tugged on his hood and twisted around to crawl after her. Being smaller, she had an easier time scooting around the boxes of seasonal stock and decorations toward the window at the end of the long, narrow space, but he stayed close.
She covered her face and kicked through the glass, then threw herself outside.
“Evie!”
Wyatt’s shout followed her as she slipped down the roof of the covered porch. Baker was waiting for her, but she’d been counting on that. If they could make their stand here, somehow contain the thieves until the weather cleared, they might have a chance.
Not just a chance to survive Tate’s revenge or the blizzard, but a chance to be together again. That hope propelled her as Baker tackled her, the force driving her into a deep snowdrift.
She writhed beneath him, though there wasn’t much room with the snow pinning her in on all sides. Blocking his attempts to get his hands around her throat, she was grateful for the necessary gear that impeded his efforts.
Suddenly, instead of Baker filling her vision, she was looking up into snow-covered trees framing an overcast sky full of clouds. She scrambled out of the snowdrift to see Wyatt squaring off with Baker.
“Get the snowmobile!” Wyatt shouted as he dodged a punch.
Her first instinct was the Greenbriar machine. Looking to the shed, she saw the drift covering two thirds of the door. They’d never get to it before Tate shot them both. Then she heard the revving engine of the snowmobile around front. She’d scold herself later, if she survived.
Tate rounded the corner of the store, the back end of the machine fishtailing behind him. Inexperience and desperation made him reckless. He immediately dismissed her, aiming the machine at Wyatt.
She screamed a warning.
Wyatt must have heard her, but it was too late.
His body twisted, not quite in time, his face registering shock as he was bumped aside. Baker fell the other way, taking a face full of snow as Tate turned. His expression was stark hatred and vindictiveness as he circled around and aimed the machine at her.
Behind him, Wyatt was getting to his feet and Baker was stumbling, holding his side. Wyatt had to be okay. She clung to that singular thought, unable to comprehend another outcome.
She moved straight toward Tate and at the last second threw herself at the nearest tree, taking a stand in the rutted path left behind by the snowmobile’s runners. Looking around for a fallen limb she could use as a weapon, she came up empty, the snow was too deep.
“Stay away from him,” she shouted at Baker when he stumbled toward Wyatt. Baker didn’t look like he could be much of a threat, but she wasn’t taking any chances.
Tate muscled the snowmobile around and was taking aim at her once more.
She fumbled with her zipper and used her teeth to pull off a glove so she could reach into her pocket.
Circling the tree, forcing Tate to recalculate his angle again, she pulled out a few of the loose diamonds and threw them at his face as he passed her.
“Lose something?” she shouted over the drone of the engine. Her fingers were shaking from the freezing air and the barely leashed panic coursing through her veins.
Tate cursed her, standing up on the snowmobile and leaning forward as he came at her once more.
What she wouldn’t give for one well-placed rock, covered by snow, that would pitch him over and knock him out. Then she realized she had all the rocks she needed. She reached into her pocket and pulled out another diamond, pretending to hold something larger.
She raised her hand and threw a strike of epic proportions.
Tate shrieked and jumped off the snowmobile, running in the direction of her toss. His movements were awkward as his feet sank into the snow, his arms flailing for balance.
She smiled. Gotcha. She plucked out a few more diamonds, tossing them to either side of him.
He reached out as if he could catch one of the precious gems before it was lost in the snow. Of course, he missed. On his knees, he dug through the snow. “Stop! Stop!”
“I’ll give you the Mae West if you hand over your gun and leave right now,” she offered.
“Yes.” He reached for his gun.
“Slowly,” she warned, hand poised near her pocket. “Throw it over your shoulder.”
He did as she asked. “Thank you. Now get the hell out of here.” She secured the pouch of remaining diamonds. “Without a guide.”
“We’ll get lost.”
“Not my problem.” She figured the bears would enjoy a convenient, if somewhat stale snack when they woke up in the spring. Provided the authorities didn’t find his lousy carcass first.
Tate’s gaze narrowed, mean and calculating, as he got back on his feet. “I’ll just take you and—”
The threat was smothered by the snow as Wyatt shoved him down, face first, and dropped his knee hard between the man’s shoulders. The fight was over that fast. Wyatt gave him just enough room to grab a shallow breath.
“You’re a better man than me,” she groused.
Wyatt laughed. “Get the rope.”
“You know what I mean,” she said with a snort as she realized what she’d said. “He doesn’t deserve it.”
“Maybe not, but neither of us deserve to have his blood on our hands.”
She studied him for a long moment, seeing the boy he’d been and the man he’d become. He’d gone to grim places and carried out orders she couldn’t even fathom. Didn’t want to. Even if he’d never planned to return to Deadwood she was grateful he was here now. Thankful he was a hero at heart.
“What happened to Baker?” she asked.
“He’s passed out. Injury, exertion or whatever.” Beneath Wyatt, Cordell’s muffled voice sounded worried. “He’s not dead, but he can’t fight. Are there any diamonds left in there?” he queried.
Tate tried to talk again.
“Plenty.” She smiled. “We need to confiscate the diamonds he has,” she said. A gust of wind lifted the top-most layer of snow, carving from one drift to add to another. “Wind is changing,” she said. “Maybe the worst of this storm is over.”
“Let’s get them secured and see if we can get out a call for help.”
“On it.” She trudged back toward the outpost for the rope and whatever else might keep Tate and Baker subdued. “Then we’ll talk,” she added once she was out of earshot.
She wouldn’t let this prime opportunity for a second chance with Wyatt pass her by.