The grimy man stepped up and glared at Holly with a look that made her skin crawl. “Where’s that man?” She’d never heard a voice so sinister. Where had he come from? Had he been hiding in wait on the back railing of the car this whole time?
He couldn’t possibly be asking about Curtis Brooks, the bank representative who had insisted on escorting her and the bank’s loan of two thousand dollars’ worth of gold back to Evans Grove. How could this thief know about the banker, or the loan? It took her a second or two to find her voice. “What man?”
The bandit leered over her, close and foul. “The one what was with you back in Newfield. Mr. Fancypants Banker.” He nudged her with the tip of his gun, pushing Holly down into her seat.
Her brain scrambled to assemble the facts, to get a grip on what couldn’t possibly be happening. He knew who she was and what she had. Dear Lord, save me! “He’s not here.”
This clearly wasn’t the answer the bandit wanted. “I know he ain’t here!” He nodded to his partner—a second man Holly hadn’t even seen until just now—who dashed down the train aisle to peer through the door to the next car. The first bandit leaned in closer to Holly. “Where is he? He went for it, didn’t he?”
There would be no victory. Her town’s future, the precious funds she’d labored to secure, the funds to rebuild Evans Grove after a storm and flood had nearly wiped it out—all was being thieved right out from underneath her. She’d return to Evans Grove empty-handed—if she returned at all. These men looked like the kind who wouldn’t think twice to kill for whatever they wanted.
Too frightened to lie, she grappled for the safest truth: “He said he had...business in another car, so he took one of the antsier boys with him.” Mr. Brooks had told Miss Sterling’s partner agent that he was going up to the express car “to check on something,” and had invited him and a boy named Liam as a diversion to the long ride. Of course, Holly knew he’d gone up to check on the safe where the gold was stored, but she wouldn’t tell that to these horrible men.
“Business, hmm? As if you don’t know what kind of business.” The bandit grabbed her arm with one hand while he brandished the gun around, sending the orphan boys in the car ducking into their seats, and the little girls into tears. “Where is he? Which car?”
“There are children aboard!” Holly pleaded as he wrenched her arm.
A second little girl across from Holly began to sob. “The mail car!” one boy yelped, pointing to the door Mr. Brooks, the other orphan escort called Mr. Arlington and Liam had gone through. At that moment, two more men burst into the car behind the first bandit. Mercy, how many of them were there?
“Go get him, boys!” shouted the leader, nodding his head in the direction the boy had pointed. “And don’t forget to mention how many precious little lives are at stake.”
“You wouldn’t!” Miss Sterling suddenly found her voice.
The bandit’s glare silenced her. “Don’t try me, missy.”
Just then, the train slowed with a shuddering lurch, wheels squealing. Someone had thrown the brake, and bags and boxes flew from seats and shelves as the train slowed far too quickly. Shouts rose up from the cars ahead. Holly startled as the sharp sound of pistol fire split the warm afternoon, feeling as if the breath had been ripped from her lungs. Miss Sterling yelped and even the boys now looked close to tears.
“What’s going on?” an old woman from the far end of the railcar cried. A storm of falling and tumbling belongings raged as the car lurched, surged forward, and then lurched again. Holly was held firmly in place by the bandit’s iron grip. Once the car finally stopped—which seemed to take forever—whimpers and groans filled the air. Still, none of the passengers dared to move, even to pick up the things that had fallen.
“Is anyone hurt?” Holly said as calmly as she could manage with the bandit’s glare so close. While everyone was frightened and upset, she was glad no one replied that they were injured.
“I am an agent of the Orphan Salvation Society, sir. May I stand and see to the children?” Miss Sterling asked.
“No.” The bandit’s voice was low and cruel. “Everyone just said they’s fine, didn’t they?”
“We are, ma’am,” came one of the boys’ voices. The attempted calm in the poor lad’s tone twisted Holly’s heart. “But I don’t know about Liam.”
This sent one of the girls into crying again. “Where’s Liam?”
“He went with Mr. Arlington and that other man,” Miss Sterling whispered. “Just hush up now.”
A second later the far door pushed open and a burly hand shoved Liam and Mr. Arlington into the car. The older agent looked roughed up while Liam had a nasty bruise above his left eye. “Keep this feisty one outta my way while the banker man gets the safe opened.”
“Why’d we stop?” The bandit next to Holly squeezed her arm so tight she winced.
“This little rat.” The second bandit nodded at Liam. “He ran to the engine car and told ’em to pull the brake.”
“We ain’t at Evans Grove yet.” The leader’s comment made Holly look out the window, trying to judge where they were.
“We’re close enough,” the second man said, and Holly guessed him to be right. Their awareness made Holly’s stomach drop. Usually, no one paid much mind to tiny Evans Grove. It wasn’t even large enough to have a rail station. Today’s train was only “whistle-stopping” there at the request of Curtis Brooks. The bandits couldn’t know that—unless they’d seen the wire she sent this morning telling of her change in travel plans. Holly’s stomach dropped further.
“If we’re close enough, then stick to the plan,” came the leader’s voice, now pitched with frustration. “Why ain’t it open yet?”
“We cain’t get it open.”
The safe. Of course.
The leader cursed, making Miss Sterling cover the ears of the little girl in her lap. “It takes two seconds to open one of those, and he must have the key so don’t you let him tell you otherwise.” He turned to peer at Holly. “Unlessen you have a key, too?”
Holly wasn’t used to people paying her any mind. Small and “mousy” as Mama used to say, she mostly went unnoticed. Would that she’d gone unnoticed today, instead of finding herself at the center of a crime. A crime in front of children, no less. “I don’t know anything.”
The bandit cocked his gun again, demonstrating his disbelief. Holly flinched and fought for breath.
“Stop threatening her!” Mr. Arlington, a rather bookish gentleman in his fifties from the looks of it, was attempting to sound commanding but failed miserably.
The bandit all but ignored him, still looking straight at Holly. “You know how much gold is in there. You know what kind of ‘business’ he has, and how much. That ain’t hard to figure.”
Holly shut her eyes, wrestling the panic that threatened to swallow her. “There’s two thousand dollars. It’s a loan for my town. To rebuild after the flood.”
“Ain’t that sweet.” His voice taunted. “Y’all will have to find another way.”
The thought of everything this man was stealing—money, hope, a chance to rebuild—burned the fear in Holly’s chest into a growing anger. He knew exactly what he was taking from good people, and seemed to enjoy it. Any jury in the county would send him to the gallows for such crimes, and all her good Christian charity wouldn’t give her enough compassion to object.
A second bandit ducked his head into the car. “Boss, we still can’t get it open.”
“What do you mean you can’t get it open? It’s