The roar of the train merged with the furious wind that threatened to rip James’s hat from his head. Clinging to the exterior of one of the carriages, he watched helplessly as a wooden cart, reinforced with bars like a moving cell, disappeared into the desert dust. Inside, Clara—the mysterious young woman who had begun to awaken in him something far deeper than curiosity—was carried off as a prisoner.

James caught his hat with his left hand just in time and, through the whirlwind of sand and speed, caught sight of another rider trailing the cart. He was dressed like the kidnappers: face covered from the nose down, dark hat, shifting gaze. Without hesitation, James concealed himself, waiting for the perfect moment. He leapt onto the rider with surgical precision, toppling him from his horse. With one swift motion, he tore away the man’s hat and scarf, disguising himself in the enemy’s attire.

Now one of them, James approached the next rider who was flanking the cage. There were several guards surrounding the cart, which struck him as suspicious. If they were simple bandits, why take Clara alone? They haven’t stolen a thing… this makes no sense, he thought. Something was wrong. For the first time in years, he was willing to break his rule: never get involved.

He drew his weapon and, without hesitation, fired at two of the riders guarding the cart. Chaos erupted. James hurled himself onto the driver’s horse and climbed with effort up onto the cage. With a gesture of his hand, he signaled Clara to remain silent. Then, seizing a moment of distraction, he dragged the driver backward. Searching his pockets, he found the keys. He unlocked the cell, helped Clara out, and placed her on the driver’s seat, securing the door behind them with an improvised lock.

Stopping the cart, he pressed the barrel of his gun against the man’s head and demanded:
“Why did you kidnap this girl? You are no common thieves—you’ve taken nothing! I don’t believe you plan to sell a white woman into slavery. Speak!”

The man stammered nervously, unable to form an answer. Impatient, James cocked the hammer of his revolver.

“All right, all right!” the man cried, pleading. “I’ll tell you whatever you want—but don’t breathe a word to the one who hired me! It was Henry Blackwell… he paid me two thousand dollars to bring him the girl.”

At that name, James’s gaze hardened. Inside the cage, he noticed a rope. An idea struck him. He tied the man’s hands and said coldly:
“You’re coming with me.”

“To jail?” the man asked, half-nervous, half-mocking.

“Perhaps,” James replied icily. “But not yet.”

Then he remembered the secret meeting awaiting him. He could not allow Henry to know he was on his trail. Turning to Clara—seated on a rock, arms crossed, trembling with fear—he raised his voice.

“You know what? I’ll let you go. But you will tell Henry that you’ve hidden the girl somewhere else. I will pay you when I return from my journey. Just say it was difficult to take her because she had bodyguards. Do you understand?”

A heavy silence followed. James repeated, more forcefully:
“Do you understand?!”

“Yes… yes, fine,” the man conceded, defeated.

“Then get out of my sight!” James thundered.

The man snatched up his hat, mounted one of the horses, and fled in the opposite direction, leaving behind the dust of his betrayal.

Clara could barely speak. In a hushed voice, she asked:
“How will we reach the meeting? We’re in the middle of the desert… that man knew the way.”

James adjusted his hat calmly.
“We’ll ride. We are not far from our destination.”

He helped Clara onto one of the freed horses, and together they set off. Along the way, James spotted a cactus. He dismounted, sliced off one of its branches with his knife, and poured the sap into a makeshift vessel. Both drank from the lifesaving liquid.

“Soon we will reach the town where the hotel stands,” James said as they rode. “But I must think… what is this Henry truly after?”

Clara swallowed nervously.
“What if he was the one who caused the destruction of your shop? He seems dangerous… surrounded by criminals. It wouldn’t surprise me if he hired those men.”

James looked at her in silence. His expression darkened, pensive. The steady rhythm of the horse’s gallop beat in time with the thoughts racing through his mind like bullets.