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

181: The Devil You Know

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, and the Riders & Kickers Anthology are available on Amazon under the name Regina Shelley. Book 3: The Road Home will be released early November. So if you hate waiting for chapter posts and/or want a more polished read, the finished product is available now.

Rain pelted across Rosie's face in a stinging haze as she hugged close to the galloping War Bonnet. Her soaked skirt and petticoats flapped against her legs and clung to her skin in the wind. Wash had not been exaggerating when he'd told her that the horse was fast. She nearly felt as though she was flying through the darkness on a thunderstorm wind. She twisted handfuls of the pony's flying mane in her fists along with the reins, hunkering down behind his ghostly, dark-capped head as he ran with a liquid speed that made her more than once wonder if his feet were really on the ground.

He was half wild, barely broke. She wondered if she'd be able to stop him even if she wanted to, and the thought made her heart pound harder and her knees tighten their grip around his heaving sides. The horse was like tornado tearing down the trail, and she knew anyone bent on ambushing them would be left in the dust. The weight of Mr. Monahan's double-action pistol felt like an anvil against her hip, and she was nearly overwhelmed with relief that she most likely wouldn't need it. At least, not while I'm riding at this speed.

What am I going to do when I get to town? What am I going to say?

She clenched her jaw, trying and failing once again to not to let the horrific images in her head crowd her ability to think. Tommy, lying unconscious and bleeding. Mr. Peltier in the clutches of a torturer and murderer. She'd heard the stories about Williams Station, knew what people were saying. The thought made her want to vomit. And Luis...going alone to face a murderer. What if Mr. Monahan didn't get there in time? What if that man managed to kill them both...and Mr. Peltier helpless and maybe hurt and Tommy not even able to walk?

Father sent that awful man over there. Surely he's going to end up getting arrested.

She drew in a deep breath, fighting back her terror. And then what will I do? Fresh panic started crawling up her spine. I'll end up going East, to live with relatives I barely know, that's what. Would that be so bad? Would it?

She groaned, gritting her teeth. My life is over. How could you do this, Father? How could you? You've gotten Lynch's boys hurt...maybe even killed... and you've ruined my life. And for what? Your awful wife and her worse brother? Money?

She felt heat on her face and realized tears were rolling down her cheeks and dripping off her jaw. She didn't dare release her grip on War Bonnet to wipe them away.

If I tell Sheriff Holt what you did, I will be sent back East. She sniffed, wiping her running nose on the shoulder of her coat. And you'll go to jail. And you'll deserve it, too. If I don't tell them everything I know, I'll remember what you did to my friends and me every single time I look at your face.

Anger boiled over inside her and she tasted acid, bitter and hot on her tongue.

How dare you try to use me to get information on them. How dare you only pretend to care about me when you think there's something in it for you.

I don't even know you. And you sure don't know me.

Her face threatened to crumble into a sob. She grimaced and forced herself to remain steady, setting her jaw. My sham of a life is over either way. I'm going to lose everything.

The dim lanterns of the main road that ran through Green River town glowed ahead through the wet haze. She felt her heart in her throat, fluttering like a trapped moth. She couldn't be sure she hadn't been followed, or what she might be riding into. Loosening her grip on War Bonnet, she gently slowed him to a trot and unholstered Mr. Monahan's pistol.

This is it. The end of everything. "Sheriff!" she called, surprised at the thready, cracking sound of her own voice. "Sheriff Holt! Help!" She pulled War Bonnet up close to the lamplight spilling warmly from the front window. Shadows fluttered inside, and she wasn't sure if it was relief of dread that she felt at the sound of heavy boots on the wooden floor within. "Sheriff!"

The door flew open. Deputy Blackie Shannon stood staring, then scrambled towards her across the porch. "That Rosemary Burgess?" he called back, shrugging into his coat as he briskly walked. "Your father's been looking for you, child, what's...?"

"Deputy Shannon!" she blurted, her words tumbling over each other. "The mail station's been attacked!"

"What? Attacked?" Deputy Shannon's eyes were huge, his mouth dropping open. When he saw the company pony Rosie was riding and the pistol in her hand, he did a stunned double-take.

"Yessir. Might be the same as them that attacked Williams Station out west. I don't know how many, but it's bad! We need help!"

The deputy jerked his head back towards the doorway. "Rhys! There's trouble at Lynch's place! We gotta shift!" He turned back to Rosie. "Come on inside, Miss."

Rosie shook her head. "I've got to go find Doctor Plunkett, sir. Please hurry!"

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