Messenger by Moonlight (5 page)

It seemed to take an eternity, but when cheers finally rang out and Annie dared to look down, Emmet was—miraculously—safe. The black horse stood in the middle of
the corral, head down. Four men moved in to subdue him, but the animal seemed done in. When he submitted to the removal of saddle and bridle without protest, someone shouted that the Paxton brothers had broken Outlaw. “Three cheers for the Paxtons! Three cheers for the Pony Express!”

Annie stayed seated, trembling with fear. The black-and-white cat emerged from a corner of the loft and minced toward her. Inviting itself to curl up in her lap, it began to purr as Annie stroked the soft fur absentmindedly. It seemed a long time since she’d traipsed into St. Joseph with such a clear vision of what lay ahead. It hurt to face the stark truth that both her brothers had abandoned their plan—at the first opportunity. Without so much as talking to her about it. Without considering her feelings.
Without including her.
Apparently, neither Emmet nor Frank shared her vision of the future, after all.

The crowd in the back lot had dispersed and Annie had calmed down before one of her brothers came looking for her.
You’ve always known they’d go their own way at some point. It’s just happening sooner than you expected
. There was always a ray of light if a body looked hard enough. She would find it—although it might take a while. In the meantime she wasn’t going to pretend to be happy about the way things were turning out.

At the first sound of someone climbing the ladder, the cat bolted. Annie sat with her hands folded in her lap. Waiting. The top of a head appeared.
Auburn hair.
Of course. Frank would be the one to talk to her first. Being twins, she and Frank had always been closer to one another than to Emmet. But that wasn’t going to matter today. If Frank expected her to make this easy, he was going to be disappointed.

Instead of sitting down beside her, Frank leaned against the haymow doorframe, staring down into the back lot for a while. Saying nothing. Annie curled her arms about her knees and tucked her chin. Waiting. Staring off toward the opposite end of the loft.

Finally, Frank took a deep breath and said quietly, “Two hundred dollars a month, Annie. With both Emmet and me riding for the Pony, we’ll be able to give you the home you want.”

She didn’t look at him. “Unless you break your neck on some midnight run aboard a half-wild horse. Or get shot by road agents. Or run over by stampeding buffalo. Or scalped by Indians.”

Frank snorted. “We both just rode the worst they had to offer, and we broke him. Outlaw’s no threat to anyone anymore. Shoot, I might even ask the Pony to let me ride him on my part of the trail. One thing that horse has is grit.”

Annie shrugged. She could feel him looking at her, but she refused to look back.

“As to road agents, the Pony only carries mail—no money. There’s nothing valuable to rob. And there’s no Indians scalping people where we’re going.”

Where we’re going. Not “where we might go.” Where we’re going.
That made her look at him. Frowning. “You’ve already agreed to it?”

He came to sit beside her. “The station’s called Clearwater. Luther told us all about it. It started out as a trading post. Now it’s also a regular stop for the Overland Stage. It sounds like a good place. Better than our old farm, for sure. Almost a village, spring through fall. There’s a store inside the station, a big barn, and several corrals.
Two
wells with cold, clear water. Emmet and I will both ride out of there. I’ll ride west and Emmet will bring the California mail back this way. A hundred miles each way and then back again, with Clearwater as home. Luther says there isn’t any serious Indian trouble to worry about. It’s less than a dozen miles to Fort Kearny, and they send out daily patrols.” He paused, obviously waiting for Annie to say something.

All she could manage was, “It’s not what we talked about.”

Frank reached over to chuck her under the chin. “But it could be
better
.”

She shrugged. “I got the job at the Patee House. And rooms at Miss Stanton’s. Ira—he said I should call him Ira—put in a good word for us.”

“He told us. You did good, Annie. Real good. But—Emmet says this is better. The answer to his prayers. I think he’s right.”

“When have you ever cared about Emmet’s prayers?” She regretted the bitter tone, but she didn’t apologize for it.

Frank nudged her shoulder. “Just because I don’t talk to God doesn’t mean I don’t think he’d listen to a good man like Emmet and help him out.” When Annie remained quiet, he said, “There’s more to it than just making money. We’ll be making
history
. Think of it, Annie. The president in Washington City telegraphs a letter, and ten days after it leaves St. Jo., the governor of California is reading it. Ten
days
. Not weeks.
Days
.” He paused. “Only about eighty men in the history of the world will ever be able to say they were good enough to be part of that first ride. Imagine it, Annie—carrying a letter written by the president’s own hand. Emmet and I will be telling our grandchildren about it when we’re old.”

Grandchildren.
It was the first time Frank had ever come close to talking about getting married and having children. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen Frank this excited about anything.

He ducked his head and looked her in the eye. “We’re supposed to report to the Pony office at that fancy hotel in a little while—Emmet, Jake, and me. To take the rider’s oath.” Again, he nudged her shoulder. “You’ll come and witness it—right?”

They’re going. No matter what I say. It’s done.
Annie’s throat constricted. Frank reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Please. We came to St. Jo. for a fresh start. This is it. We’ll
earn enough money to get a little house here in town. Emmet will be able to get married. He’ll have a hope of putting a down payment on some good land.” He arched one eyebrow and adjusted the kerchief knotted about his neck as if it were a fancy cravat. “I’ll be famous. Everybody wins.” He winked at her.

Annie had never been able to stay angry with Frank for long. He was just too… charming. “It’s a lot to take in. Especially when we didn’t so much as talk about it before you both took the job.” She cleared her throat to keep her voice from wavering. “I thought we’d stay together. Not always, of course, but—at least for a little while. I didn’t think you’d both go off on your own all at once. So soon.”

Frank frowned. “Wait a minute—you thought—you think Emmet and me—that we were leaving you here in St. Jo.? Alone?” Palms up, he waggled both hands back and forth. “No, no. That is
not
gonna happen. Clearwater’s more than just a stage stop. Like I said, it’s a trading post. A blacksmith and a crew work the place, spring through fall. The station keeper needs a cook. We got you the job—and you’ll stay as long as we ride for the Pony Express.”

Speechless, Annie just stared at him.

Frank leaned close and nudged her shoulder. “You didn’t think you’d get rid of us that easy, did you? You’re going with us.”

She twisted about so she could face him. “You got me a job. Cooking. At a place that’s hundreds of miles from St. Jo. Without talking to me?”

The furrow between his brows deepened. “You were upset when you thought we were leaving without you. Now you’re upset because we aren’t?” He reached for both her hands and gave them a little shake. “It’s only for a couple of years—at
the most. We’ll save our money, and when we all come back to St. Jo.—
together
—we won’t need any sour-faced landlady’s charity. Luvina’s pa won’t be able to stand in Emmet’s way. We’ll get you a little house and I’ll paint the trim. By the way, is it still blue?” The black-and-white cat came into view. It sat, looking first at Annie and then at Frank. “New friend?” he asked. Letting go of her hands, he picked up a long piece of straw, and enticed the animal to play.

At the sound of a distant steam whistle, Annie looked across the tops of the buildings toward the river just in time to see a puff of steam dissipate. Beyond the river, the rolling landscape was just beginning to turn green. With a sigh, she asked, “You said two years at most?”

“At most.”

“And then we’re coming back to St. Jo.”

“Isn’t that what I just said? ‘… when we all come back to St. Jo.
together.
’”

Slowly, Annie stood up. As she headed for the ladder, she called over her shoulder. “Yes. Blue trim. But before you paint the trim, I want those window boxes so I can plant flowers.”

Annie had barely stepped off the last rung of the ladder when Emmet joined them, clearly bent on doing his part to prove that working for the Pony Express was a wonderful opportunity. “We’ll use Pa’s cash box. When the paymaster comes through, Frank and I will hand every penny over to you. You can keep the key on that ribbon around your neck.” He looked over at Frank. “Did you tell her how much she’s earning?” Frank shook his head, and Emmet said, “Twenty dollars a month. Between the three of us, in just two years we could have almost
five thousand dollars
.”

Annie tried to envision someone handing her a twenty-dollar gold piece at the end of every month. She’d never had that much money in her life. And
thousands
of dollars? It was too much to take in.

“There’s more,” Frank said. “All the Pony Express riders stay and eat at the Patee House. And since you’ll be working at Clearwater, so will you. Starting today and going until we leave.”

“When’s that?”

“Not for a few days at least. We’re going out with Luther’s outfit, and he has to wait for supplies to arrive from downriver. There’s a dance in the ballroom tonight. Think you can remember how to waltz?”

What could a girl say to all of that? It was only for a couple of years. And the money. She’d seen the Pony Express flyer with her own eyes or she wouldn’t have believed it. It wasn’t as if Frank and Emmet had tricked her into swallowing a tadpole. Or tasting the frost on the pump handle. And when it came right down to it, she couldn’t imagine life without her dad-blasted brothers.

“I, Franklin Emory Paxton, do hereby swear, before the Great and Living God, that during my engagement, and while an employee of Russell, Majors, and Waddell, I will, under no circumstances, use profane language, that I will drink no intoxicating liquors, that I will not quarrel or fight with any other employee of the firm, and that in every respect I will conduct myself honestly, be faithful to my duties, and so direct my acts as to win the confidence of my employers, so help me God.”

Even as he said them, the words gave Frank pause. First
because he’d never taken an oath before and the solemnity of the moment carried weight. Second because it was obvious that the owners of the freighting company organizing the Pony Express—Russell, Majors, and Waddell—were darned serious about what they expected of the men who worked for them. Not that Frank intended to be anything but a trustworthy employee. Promising not to use profane language was all right—especially for Annie’s sake. Not fighting with other employees only made sense. In-fighting among the jockeys during that short season he’d worked for Hiram Hillsdale had dragged everything down. The promise not to drink was problematic, though. After all, even educated men like doctors knew that whiskey had its benefits. Still, they were paying him $100 a month. He supposed they could make the rules.

After the oath, Superintendent Lewis shook each man’s hand and presented him with a leather-bound Bible printed especially for the riders. Emmet expressed heartfelt thanks for his. Frank wondered how many would get “lost” as soon as the riders left town. Still, when he walked out of that office a Pony Express rider, Frank felt just a little taller.