The Devil's Kiss. Deloras Scott
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the situation. “Permit me to offer some advice.”
“I’m the robber—the one who is supposed to figure everything out.” Nevertheless, Beth watched closely as Cole creased lines on the tablecloth with the blunt edge of his knife.
Cole made crisscrossed lines in several places. “This is your train. You are going to need someone to get to the front —” he pointed to it “— and get the engineer to stop. While he’s doing that, others have to enter by the back. There will only be one passenger car. Naturally you’ll want guns to be drawn in case someone wants to put up a fight.”
Beth’s face became ashen. “Are you saying we may have to shoot someone?”
“When you’re an outlaw, there is always that possibility. Some people don’t take kindly to being robbed.”
“But I really don’t want to rob anyone. I just want to see what it’s like to do it.”
Cole shrugged his shoulders. “I hope the people on the train understand that. Now, you’re also going to need someone to stay with the horses and have them ready when you exit the train. You don’t want to get shot while leaving.”
“You’ve left out one very important detail. How do we get on the train?”
“That’s the simplest part. You ride your horse up alongside and climb on.”
“You can’t be serious!”
“Dead serious.”
“While the train is moving?”
“How else do you plan to stop it? You might consider getting a man’s saddle and some britches. You could get your foot caught up in a skirt hem and kill yourself. Of course, if you want to change your mind about this...” He raised a dark eyebrow and waited.
“No, I’m not going to change my mind. I always finish what I set out to do. I don’t want to hear any more. As I told you, this is my holdup.”
“But of course. You will have several days to work it out. I’m curious why a lady of your financial standing would even want to do any of this.”
“Research. Purely research. Besides, money isn’t everything. It is time for me to start doing something constructive with my life.”
Cole stood and made a slight bow. “The supper was excellent, my lady. I thank you for all the trouble you went to.” He snatched up his hat before exiting the tent. Yes, sirree, the woman did talk a good story. Of course, come time to commit the crime, the lady would undoubtedly change her mind.
As Cole drove the farm wagon down one of the back streets of Bruster, he kept scanning the area for any sight of the bald-faced nag the traveling sheriff rode. How long had it been? Six years since he last visited the town? Something like that. It wasn’t a large town, but it was sufficient for the surrounding farms. He brought the horses to a halt in front of a large saloon.
“Why are we stopping here?” Doolan inquired.
“I figured we could both use a drink.”
Doolan jumped from the wagon and followed Cole inside. It was only around ten in the morning, so there were few customers. As he sidled up to the bar, Doolan was feeling more like a man than he ever had. There was something about being around Cole that made him feel different than when he was with the others. Maybe that was because Cole didn’t treat him as if he were still in short pants.
“A couple of whiskeys,” Cole told the bartender. He pulled a coin from his pocket and slapped it on the bar. “Is Dahlia still here?” he asked when the bartender had filled the shot glasses.
“Yeah, I’m still here. Who wants to know?”
Cole downed the shot, then turned toward the voice. Dahlia had to be in her early fifties, but very little had changed. She was overweight, her hair was dyed a gaudy bright red and her two-layer-deep makeup did little to hide the wrinkles. Nevertheless, she’d always been a fair woman and treated her girls well.
“Cole?” Dahlia pulled her wire-rimmed glasses from between her large breasts and took a harder look. “Son of a bitch! Cole Wagner. It is you!” She hurried forward and threw her ample arms around him.
“You haven’t changed,” Cole said fondly.
Dahlia released him and stepped back. “Well, I sure as hell can’t say the same about you. Why are you dressed like that, you handsome devil? Look at that stupid hat. And that beard. I ain’t never seen you with a beard.” She laughed with delight. “You aimin’ to braid it?”
Cole grinned good-naturedly. “Dahlia, I’d like you to meet a friend of mine. Doolan, this is Dahlia, the best woman for miles around.”
Doolan blushed at the brazen way Dahlia looked him over. He wasn’t sure what to think about all this. How had these two come to know each other?
“I’ll be damned. You brung me a green one.”
Cole chuckled. Dahlia knew her men. “Doolan is fixing to become twenty. I figured it was time he learned a few things about women.”
Doolan didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “You mean...”
“Knowing you have the best girls in the county,” Cole continued, ignoring his young friend, “I knew you would pick him out someone special.”
Doolan licked his lips. Was he honestly going to get to be with a woman — naked and everything?
“I got just the one,” Dahlia crooned. “Bill,” she called to the bartender, “call down Credence.”
Doolan was feeling as skittish as a turpentined cat. “Can I talk with you a minute in private?” he asked Cole.
“Sure thing.” Cole winked at Dahlia and moved several feet away. “What is it, Doolan?”
“What if I...I mean, you know... can’t do it.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Well, you know I’ve never... Don’t you need me to help get supplies?”
“Are you telling me you don’t want to go through with this?”
“I just don’t want...” Doolan forgot what he was about to say. His eyes were fastened on the tall blonde coming down the stairs. The only thing she had on was a girdle that pushed her creamy white breasts up, and a gossamer thing that reached the floor and hid nothing. He’d never seen anything so beautiful.
Cole laughed. “You’ll do just fine, Doolan. I’m sure you haven’t a thing to worry about.” Cole doubted that the boy had even heard what he’d said. He saw Dahlia’s slight nod, indicating to Credence which man was her customer.
Credence walked up to Doolan, who looked as if he were frozen in ice. “Oh,” she said as she ran her fingers through his hair, “you’re a handsome one.”
Doolan grinned like a sick puppy.
Credence took his hand. “Why don’t you come upstairs with me?”
Cole reached into his pocket and pulled out some money. “It will be a while before I return,” he stated as he handed Dahlia the money. “See that the boy has a good time.”
“I can’t take your money, Cole. Hell, if it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t have this business.”
Cole gave it to her, anyway. “Tell me, has Sheriff Biggs been in these parts lately?”
“No, he tried shootin’ it out with some young kid. They buried him nearly a year ago. The new sheriff never comes here ’cause nothin’ ever happens. You’re free to go where you please.”
Cole grinned. “I’ll see you later.”
As Cole drove out of town, Frank Doolan couldn’t stop talking about how well Credence had said he’d performed. “She told me she’d