Page 24 of Follow the Lonesome Trail

“I guess look for a box or trunk with the name Hampton on it. It would have to be packaged to send it on the mail stage. It’s not like the ruby is just gonna be sittin’ on the bench.

” With a rusty click, the stage door popped open.

Jimmy mounted the creaky step. “Got your knife on you? We might need to break a lock if it’s in a strongbox…

” As he ducked into the dim, stuffy carriage, his words trailed off into stunned silence.

The stagecoach was not empty.

Even under the inevitable layer of dust from coach travel, she was the prettiest thing Jimmy had ever laid eyes on.

She looked like a porcelain doll who’d stepped out of a fancy shop window—pink apple cheeks, walnut ringlets, and eyes like river stones, glossy and bright.

She wore a traveling dress of dove gray wool, lined all up the front with shiny black buttons.

A bonnet perched on her lap, trailing velvet ribbons.

Her plump lips formed a perfect “O” of surprise as she stared at him. Jimmy stared back.

“Criminy!” he finally managed to gasp.

“Heavens to Betsy!” the young woman exclaimed, her voice heavy with a Southern drawl.

For half a minute, they simply looked at each other in shock. Jimmy realized far too late that neither he nor Frank had their bandanas pulled up to mask their faces. They’d thought they were safely beyond the eyes of witnesses.

Finally, the lady spoke up. “Is this a holdup?”

“Um,” said Jimmy, but he didn’t get much more than that out before she cut him off.

“Oh, but of course it is; what else could it be?” She sprang from the bench seat, setting her curls to bobbing. “Let me guess, you boys want me to put my hands up and step out of the coach, right?”

Without waiting for a response, she did exactly that. The intoxicating smell of rosewater wafted over Jimmy as she squeezed past him on the steps. Her pointy-toed boots hit the ground in front of Frank, who stared, open-mouthed, without even trying to hide it.

“You just been sittin’ in there this whole time?” Frank sputtered. “I mighta driven more gentle-like if I’d known there was a lady aboard!”

Jimmy frowned. Frank had a point, though it wasn’t the one he thought he was making.

“Yeah, why didn’t you come out and check why the stage had stopped?” Jimmy demanded. “That didn’t strike you as odd in the slightest?”

“Well, no, not particularly.” The lady shook her curls. “Drivers need rest stops on occasion, sweetie. Wouldn’t be terribly proper to keep eyes on him if he had to…” She gave a demure little cough. “Anyway, I mind my business.”

“We got business of our own,” Jimmy said gruffly. He squared up his shoulders in an attempt to look like a man in charge. This job had taken an odd turn, no doubt about that, but it wasn’t too late to take back the reins.

“Of course you do. You’re robbin’ the stage.

” The girl’s voice practically oozed sweetness, like she’d been raised to be polite to the Devil himself if he were to show up for tea.

“I’d turn over my valuables, but I’m afraid I haven’t brought any with me.

I sold most everything to afford the journey out here.

Oh! I do have this though. Go on now, don’t be shy! ”

Jimmy couldn’t tell where she produced it from—a hidden pocket or bag, maybe—but suddenly she was holding out a pasty square of hardtack, offering it to Frank like someone trying to befriend a wild animal.

“Thanks, uh, but we’re actually just here for the mail,” Frank said, but Jimmy noticed he accepted the hardtack anyway. He even gave the corner a polite nibble.

It was obvious Frank was going to be no help where Miss Porcelain Doll was concerned.

Jimmy frowned, running options through his mind.

They’d have to get rid of her, obviously, and do it without harming her.

They’d sworn to their client that there would be no blood.

Their payout depended on it. Yes, she’d seen them, but maybe that wasn’t the end of the world.

Get enough laudanum in her, and she might just remember the holdup as a strange, fuzzy dream.

“Here, Frank, why don’t you offer the nice lady a drink. I’m sure she’s parched.” Jimmy slung his canteen off his shoulder and passed it to his partner. Once the gal had sipped her way into a swoon, they could dump her in the pine needles next to the stagecoach driver and be safely rid of her.

“Didn’t expect you outlaw types to be such gentlemen.

” The lady bobbed a tiny curtsey as she accepted the drugged canteen.

She didn’t drink it immediately, which irked Jimmy.

Instead, she pulled a brilliantly clean handkerchief, embroidered with tiny pink rosettes, from another invisible pocket.

She set to wiping down the mouth of the canteen, meticulously enough to be insulting.

“Maybe you can help us out, to return the favor,” Frank said, not seeming to mind. “You don’t by chance know which of these parcels has the Hampton Ruby in it, do ya?”

“Shut your trap, Frank!” Jimmy snapped, but it was too late to snatch the words and stuff them back in Frank’s big, stupid mouth. He would’ve smacked his partner’s head right then and there, if something from deep in his upbringing hadn’t whispered a warning not to start fights in front of a lady.

“Why, of course I do, honey, that’s me.” She gave them a smile warm enough to melt butter. “I’m Ruby Hampton, formerly of Georgia, currently of…” she trailed off and glanced about, as if noticing her surroundings for the first time. “Beggin’ your pardon, boys, but where am I now?”

“Little ways outside of Silverstone, Colorado, ma’am,” Frank replied eagerly, his words nearly tumbling over each other. Forget melting butter; a single smile had melted Frank McCoy!

Jimmy didn’t even have the heart to be angry at Frank for his silliness.

“Ruby Hampton?” Jimmy repeated, feeling like he’d been punched in the gut. “Your name is Ruby Hampton ?”

The lady’s coy eyelashes fluttered. “Sure is, sugar, but don’t wear it out.”

Jimmy couldn’t put his finger on exactly why, but as soon as he heard her name, he got the sickening hunch that he wouldn’t ever be seeing that hundred dollars.

Ruby Hampton, oblivious to the fact that she’d just thrown a stick of dynamite into their perfect, foolproof plan, tucked her handkerchief away and lifted Jimmy’s canteen to her lips.

“Wait, don’t drink that!”he shouted. Ruby and Frank both started, but at least she had the good sense to put the drink down. Jimmy wasn’t about to let her knock herself out until he got some answers.

“Shoot straight with me, sister,” Jimmy said, snatching the canteen out of her hand and shoving it back toward Frank. “This here’s the mail stage. No passengers planned at any stop. You ain’t supposed to be here. Are you some kinda stowaway?”

“Of course not,” Ruby sniffed primly, sounding a little bit hurt.

“You a smuggler, then?” Jimmy pressed. “Cause if you’ve got a ruby sewn into your ruffles, we need to know about it.”

“There’s only one Ruby in this dress, and she’ll stay inside it, thank you very much.”

Frank at least had the decency to blush, but Jimmy narrowed his eyes.

“You boys said it yourself, this is the mail stage,” Ruby insisted. “I’m mail. Paid postage and everything.”

Jimmy frowned. He stuck his head back into the stagecoach and glanced around. Sure enough, there were no passengers. Just parcels and bags of letters, like any sensible mail-delivery coach. He turned back to Ruby and scowled at her.

“Never heard tell of sending a person by post, less’n it’s in a coffin.”

Frank whacked Jimmy. “Don’t talk like that in front of the lady!”

Of all the things to get up in arms about! “Frank, the lady thinks she can stick a postage stamp on her nose and call herself a letter!” Jimmy pushed his partner away. “I don’t think she’s a stranger to crazy talk.”

“Look here, mister,” Ruby cut in, planting her hands on her hips. A touch of the sweetness had left her tone, which Jimmy found that he preferred. “My arrangement is perfectly legal, and I am not crazy.”

“He didn’t mean that, ma’am,” Frank cut in, glancing at Jimmy. “He just gets uppity when things don’t go his way.”

Jimmy scowled. Uppity? Really? This wasn’t some throwaway job they could afford to muck up.

This was a hundred dollars on the line! The presence of a lady notwithstanding, Jimmy was about ready to give Frank a piece of his mind, delivered by way of his fist. But then, like sunshine breaking through storm clouds, Ruby Hampton smiled again.

“Well, I suppose I can understand that,” she said. The honeyed voice was back. “As you might’ve noticed, my day isn’t exactly going as I planned either.”

“And we do apologize for that, ma’am, we sure and certainly do,” Frank said quickly. He nudged Jimmy. “Right, Jim? We never meant to inconvenience the lady.”

“Course not,” Jimmy mumbled grudgingly. He hated groveling, but they needed answers about the ruby they were supposed to steal, and Frank’s method of talking to Ruby was working better than Jimmy’s.

“Well, bless your hearts, you really are nice boys, after all.”

Jimmy cringed. It was so obviously condescending, but either Frank didn’t notice, or he didn’t care.

“Supposing it was a normal thing for a lady to do…” Frank ventured cautiously. “What’d you mail yourself out to the Rockies for? It’s a rough life out here.”

“No rougher than back home.” Ruby twirled a silken curl around one delicate finger and her perfect lips turned downward in a pout.

“My daddy gambled away all our money then up and died. A pretty face ain’t enough to land a good marriage back home, not without money or a good family name.

But there’s this fella in Silverstone who needs a wife, and he don’t care if I’m penniless so long as I’m willin’ to live out West with him. So here I am.”