He wished they were away from the train and Schofield and his carloads of rifles meant to create death and destruction throughout the state. Ike had a hard time telling himself he wasn’t a real lawman. But showing the badge, carrying it over his heart, made him special in ways he never had felt before. People respected him. The cavalry patrol had even obeyed his orders, as if he were in command.
And Lily. He rested his cheek against her wooly wig. She expected him to arrest Schofield and the railroad detectives when they got enough evidence. If she hadn’t been on the train, Ike wasn’t sure he ever would have come this far. It was easier to run, to fade into the desert, to let terrible crimes be committed.
Mostly he wanted to be alone with Lily. Putting her in danger gnawed at his gut, but there wasn’t any way around it that he saw. If she’d stayed back in Marfa, there was a distant chance the crooked sheriff would harm her. Ike had no idea what Schofield had told his lawman partner about the goings-on in San Antonio.
A quick glance at the window showed Kinchloe’s reflection as he stalked up and down the aisle. Ike kept his face turned away, as if he watched the most intriguing show ever slipping by outside the train. The gaslights inside the car blanked out any chance of seeing the nighttime landscape, even if there had been something other than arid, empty desert to watch.
Kinchloe stopped a few paces down the aisle and fixed a hard stare on them. Ike squirmed. The back of his head was going to explode from that unwanted attention. Just when he knew he had to stand, whip out his six-shooter and have it out then and there with the railroad bull, Kinchloe moved on, going from the car into the third one.
Ike still considered throwing down and shooting Schofield’s henchman in the back. That eliminated one source of danger even as it opened up a new can of worms. Schofield had Smitty and a couple more of his detectives with him in the Pullman. For all Ike knew, there were others aboard. Unlike him with his assumed identity, they were used to blending in with passengers.
And what of the crew? Ike had no idea if men riding in the caboose were armed and ready to defend the safety of the three freight cars.
“They’re the only ones,” Lily said unexpectedly.
He looked at her reflection in the window. She chewed her lower lip as she did when she was nervous.
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve studied all the other passengers. None of them are undercover agents working for the railroad.”
“You can’t be certain.” He saw that she was.
“I can look out across an audience and know which of them will give the catcalls and which will applaud. It’s not an innate talent. It’s . . . it’s a skill I developed over the years.”
“You didn’t read that dance hall owner aright,” he said. “Zachary. He tried to con you out of your payment and steal your belongings.”
“That was Mama’s doing. I never talked to him before she agreed to perform. By the time I saw him, it was too late. He had beady eyes. That should have warned her, but it didn’t.” Lily crossed her arms and folded in on herself. “What’re you going to do? About the guns?”
“The only thing I can do is get off the train at Fort Davis. The lieutenant I rescued will be better.” Ike silently amended, “If he survived.” Too much depended on chance, and letting others do the dangerous work. But why not? They were entrusted with keeping the peace. He wasn’t. He was a fake. Ike went on in a small, choked voice, “He’ll hear what I say and believe it. If he doesn’t, the men who rode in his patrol will back up my story.”
“The train doesn’t stop at the fort. It bypasses the town, too.”
“It’s a water stop. It must be.” Ike felt gut-clenching fear again. He had assumed that the army post was a stop along the route. Ike went cold inside, worrying that she was right. If he assumed too much they’d both end up dead—and the mischief Schofield intended for the rifles would burn across the state all the way into Indian Territory.
Yarrow would have failed. Isaac Scott would have betrayed his memory.
“It’s not,” Lily said with enough assurance to force Ike to believe her. “If you jump off the train while it’s chugging along at full speed and don’t kill yourself, you’d still need to convince the army, form a patrol and chase the train down. Then—”
“I’d do it,” he said impulsively. “You’d be aboard. I’d never leave you behind.” His words rang hollow. He had a great deal to learn about planning ahead if he intended to keep up the imposture. If he left the train, he’d have to hike across the deadly West Texas desert. Food was important. Water was vital. He wouldn’t last two days in the burning sun without water. And he didn’t even have a canteen.
“If you jump off in the middle of nowhere, I’d have to go with you. Kinchloe would swoop down on me like a vulture if you weren’t here to protect me. He’d be curious where we’d vanished, and that’d give them all time to prepare.” Lily made a clucking sound, like a mother chastising her toddler. “He can get mighty persuasive asking questions. Someone among the passengers will have figured out why we’re no longer aboard.” She raised her wrists to show that Kinchloe had chained her up.
Ike knew it would be more than that. Kinchloe had yanked him off the train after he’d found the cases of rifles. The fight had been brief, but Kinchloe had failed to kill him. The next time would be more carefully planned.
He was sorrier than ever that he hadn’t shot the railroad bull in the back when he had the chance and dealt with the resulting chaos. At least Schofield would be without his right-hand man.
“Think of something, Ike. If you can’t arrest them all, why not uncouple the freight cars?”
He looked at her. That had never occurred to him. Rob Schofield of his deadly cargo. Leave it along the route. Separating the seller from his product might infuriate the Comancheros to the extent they settled Schofield’s hash once and for all.
Ike could get them to do all the dirty work! Then he shook his head sadly. Too much depended on luck and Schofield being a fool, which he wasn’t.
“He’d know right away. Backing up a locomotive might take a while, but it’s not impossible. All that does is slow him down.”
“He must be chewing nails and spitting tacks by now,” Lily said. “Think of the delays from the Apaches and the robber. How long will his gun buyers wait for him?”
“Instead of uncoupling the freight cars, derailing them would be more effective.” He sat straighter as he warmed to the idea. “There’s only one set of tracks. That means they have sidings for trains bound in the other direction to pass. How can I switch to one of those sidings and get the cars off the track?” His mind raced, but he had little knowledge of how railroads operated.
“Wait a minute,” Lily said. She leaned over him and waved to attract the conductor’s attention.
“Sir, pardon me. How often do we take on water? For the boiler?”
“Won’t be until close to dawn, ma’am.”
“Is there a side track? A spur line? I don’t know what you call it for the train to leave the main tracks.”
“You should be the one designing the route, ma’am. There is.” He touched the short brim of his cap and moved on.
Lily settled back and crossed her arms as if everything had been decided.
“Uncouple the freight cars on the siding when we take on water?” Ike said the words but nothing came together for him.
“The train fills its tank, pulls out from the siding and onto the main tracks. If the freight cars are left behind, how hard would it be for the engineer to back onto the siding?”
“No harder than getting the locomotive in reverse,” Ike said. “But it will complicate everything for Schofield if another train is on the tracks. The best they could do would be to hook onto the cars and carry them along.”