The Five Dollar Mail (Book 1: The Green & Book 2: Lynch's Boys)

184: Charge For the Guns

Cover painting by Angela Taratuta. Chapter artwork of Rosie by Melissa Zayas. All graphics by me.

Book 1: The Green, Book 2: Lynch's Boys, Book 3: The Road Home, and the Riders & Kickers Anthology are available on Amazon under the name Regina Shelley. So if you hate waiting for chapter posts and/or want a more polished read, the finished product is available now.

What if we're too late? What if me and Doc Plunkett are just riding his nice, black doctor's buggy straight into...the same awful mess that happened at that station out west? The image sprang to Rosie's mind for what felt like the hundredth time since she'd left Green River Station. She glanced at the old doctor beside her on the leather seat and tried to calm herself, focusing on the light, sporadic drumming of leftover droplets from the soaked trees above hitting the buggy roof.

He hadn't wanted her to come back to the mail station with him. In fact, he'd tried to send her home. But when she told him she'd just ride alone in the rain, on her borrowed express horse, he evidently decided that option was even worse and relented, letting her ride beside him in his buggy.

He doesn't realize I'd rather be out here, in the rain, than be at home with my father right now. And anyways, I have to know. I have to know if my father got them killed. She shivered, pulling her damp coat around herself. I can't wait till morning.

The yellow glow of lamplight in the bunkhouse doorway glowed ahead, shining dimly through the foggy air. She could see the dark shapes of horses in front of the low porch and realized she was holding her breath. Please let them be alive. They're never going to want to see me again after this...not after what my father's done. But just let them be alive.

"Thomas Page was unconscious from blood loss last time you saw him, you say?"

Rosie nodded unhappily, feeling her heart clutch inside her. "Yes, sir. And that's just what I know about. Things are bad here."

"I would say so, if they had to send a little girl out in this to get help." He did not sound even remotely happy. "Appalling."

Rosie cringed. "They didn't 'send me'," she said, defensively, her ears burning. "I wanted to do it. They only 'sent' me after I showed up in the barn to get a horse. And they wanted me far from here when the shooting started anyways. None of this is their fault, so don't blame them!"

The old doctor turned towards her in the dark, and she could feel his eyes studying the shadows of her face before turning back towards the foggy road. "Alright," he said softly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I suppose I'm on edge as much as everyone else is tonight." He sighed tiredly. "Boys young as Thomas and Luis shouldn't be in these sorts of situations in the first place."

Rosie nodded, saying nothing as the buggy slowed to a stop beside the horses tethered out front. Rosie recognized the roan, the bay, and the dun as belonging to Sheriff Holt, Deputy Shannon, and Deputy Rhys. She leaped out of the buggy and dashed to the open bunkhouse door before Doctor Plunkett could stop her. "Luis!"

"¡Híjole, Miz Rosie!" He nearly ran into her in the doorway. She caught a brief glance of his face in the lamplight, pale and pinched with his dark eyes red-rimmed and wide. And then his arms were around her, nearly crushing the breath from her body as he hugged her. She could feel him trembling, his lungs hitching as he fought to calm himself. "Ah, Miz Rosie," he whispered shakily in her ear. "Gracias a Dios."

Her face twisted, tears burning her eyes as she looked around over his shoulder as he held her. They're all here. They're alive. And the Sheriff and his men are here.

"Jaysus, lass," she heard Mr. Monahan breathe. "I don't think I've ever been so glad to see someone in all me life."

Doctor Plunkett stalked through the bunkhouse to where Tommy lay on a bunk. He glanced over at Mr. Peltier, who was hunched in a chair by the fireplace. His scowl deepened. "Again, Lights the Storm?"

Mr. Peltier shrugged sheepishly, leaning against the stone wall behind him and clutching his shoulder.

"I'll see to you after I tend to the boy. You all can fill me in as I'm working as to what in the hell happened here. Lights the Storm...are you actually...drunk, son?"

"I think I might be, yeah."

Doctor Plunkett grunted, frowning and shaking his head as he sat down on the edge of the bunk beside Tommy. "Afraid I'm going to have to stitch up that cut on your brow, Thomas. Let's get you cleaned up and taken care of, alright? Just lie still and let me take a look."

Rose wiped her face on her sleeve. The old doctor's fatherly, comforting tone filled her with relief so intense it was nearly painful. She drew in a deep, shaking breath.

Sheriff Holt turned his attention to Mr. Monahan. "So, you say the man you shot claimed to have been at the William's Station massacre?

Helpless, Mr. Monahan glanced at Rosie and nodded. "Aye," he said woodenly. "That's what he said."

"It doesn't make much sense he'd come all way over here and do it again? I mean..." Sheriff Holt rubbed his chin, thinking. "Most likely that's who burned your kitchen. So he waited some time and then hit you again...but you're saying he doesn't know anyone here?"

Mr. Monahan sighed heavily. He sat down on an empty bunk and roached his fingers through his tousled, coppery hair. Clearly, he was at war with himself. "No. He doesn't know anyone here. Jaysus," he muttered.  "What a sodding mess."

He doesn't want to tell the truth about what's going on. He knows they'll go arrest Father. That telling them will ruin me. "My father sent him," Rosie blurted, her eyes on Mr. Monahan. She felt her face crumbling, burning, trying to dissolve into weeping. She steadied herself. "He and his wife are trying to sell some land to Union Pacific. Someone here is part owner of the land. They don't want to share the sale." She gasped, putting her hand over her face. It's out. It's done. Too late to turn back now. My life is now officially over. "My father's ledger is in the house. It's all in there. Please don't make me be there when you arrest him."

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