Chapter Two

He had hit one of them.

Calvin McKay felt a grim sort of satisfaction as he stared at the dead body of the bandit leader. Hank Carson's gang were wanted for murder and armed robbery in three states, with a bounty of over 400 dollars on their heads, but not anymore.

His only regret was that he hadn't gotten here sooner. Taking one more look at the dead bodies and debris strewn around the valley, Calvin bent down to roll the bandit over, when a small noise alerted him. Looking up past the bandit's shoulder, he saw a pair of dark eyes staring at him, fear shining in their hazel depths.

~

"Please..." Hope could see the surprise in the man's eyes; he must have thought that no one had survived. She didn't know who he was, but the desire to breathe overcame her fear. "Please...get him off me...I can't breathe..."

The man hesitated for a minute, and then rolled the body of the dead bandit off her, the man's lifeless limbs flopping around loosely like those of a rag doll's. Once she was free, Hope got to her feet, her legs as shaky as a newborn colt's, but she had only one thing on her mind.

She had to find Maggie.

"Who are you?" the man asked, drawing Hope's attention back to him. He was a good head taller than her, with dark brown hair that desperately needed trimming, and he carried a rifle slung over his shoulder. Only the fact that he had saved her life kept Hope from backing away from him.

"Hope McClellen," she replied slowly. "My daughter...she and I were travelling to Montana. Bandits attacked and...I have to find her." She looked around again, trying to see if Maggie had fallen somewhere near the stagecoach.

"What's your daughter's name?"

"Maggie." Hope bit her lip. "Her name's Maggie. She's three." She turned to him, desperation flashing in her eyes. "Please, can you help me find her?" A lump caught in her throat and she blinked back tears. "She can't be..." Her voice trailed off.

Calvin stared at the ground, feeling his gut wrench. The young woman's pleading voice and the tears in her eyes brought back unwelcome memories, ones that he'd rather forget. But if there was even a slim chance that the child was still alive, he would try to find her.

He nodded.

Just then, a small voice cut through the stillness of the afternoon air. "Mama?"

"Maggie?" Hope spun around. "Maggie, where are you?"

"Here. Mama, help." The voice came from the direction of where Lucy lay.

Without waiting for the man to follow, Hope ran over to Lucy, looking down at the young woman. A scrap of white dress stuck out from underneath Lucy's body, and as she bent down, she could see a small body.

"Mama, help me."

Gripping Lucy's arms, Hope moved the dead woman out of the way, and in an instant a small white blur shot into her arms, clinging to her like a vice. "Mama!"

Hope clung to her daughter tightly, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Oh, Maggie!" She kissed her daughter's head and then leaned back to look at her, relieved when nothing more damaging than dirt showed on her daughter's face. "I couldn't find you."

"I fell. Lucy hid me."

A bittersweet sadness ran through Hope at Maggie's words, and she looked down at Lucy's still body. "Thank you," she whispered, "for saving my girl."

"We'd better go."

The voice made Hope turn around, and she realised that the man was still standing behind her, watching her closely. "The Carson gang might come back," he continued, "and you and your daughter need a place to stay."

"Is there a town near here?" Hope asked.

Calvin nodded. "Sweetwater, eight miles from here. There's a lady called Nellie Woods who runs the boarding-house there. I'll take you to hers." He started to stride away, but Hope's voice stopped him.

"What about the bodies?" She looked around. "They should be buried."

He frowned. "That'll take a while."

"It's the least I can do. One of them saved my daughter's life; I couldn't just leave them."

He hesitated, and then nodded again shortly. "There'll probably be a shovel in the stagecoach. I'll get it."

As he walked away, Hope crouched down, hugging Maggie close again. She looked around at the bodies, and a shiver ran down her spine. She and Maggie had survived this tragedy, but Hope doubted she would ever forget it.

~

Word travelled fast in a small town. By the time Calvin made it up to Nellie Woods' front door, half the town were already watching interestedly from their houses and businesses. As he dismounted, Calvin saw Sheriff Wyatt out of the corner of his eye and secretly stifled a groan. The return of the Carson gang meant he would have to inform the sheriff, and there was nothing Calvin would rather not do.

Nellie Woods stepped out onto the front porch as they approached, wrinkled hands perched firmly on her hips. She was a small woman, barely reached up to Calvin's chest, but her caustic tongue and the Spencer rifle she kept in her house had earned her respect among the townspeople. Now, she scanned him and the newcomers keenly. "What happened?"

"Carson gang attacked the stagecoach," Calvin said shortly as he helped Hope dismount, and then handed Maggie to her. The little girl's eyes were drooping, and Hope looked little better. "These two were the only ones that survived."

Nellie stepped up to Hope, a smile on her face. "Welcome to Sweetwater, Miss...."

"Mrs," Calvin supplied. "Mrs McClellen."

"Welcome to Sweetwater, Mrs McClellen," Nellie said. She looked the young woman up and down. "Come on inside; I'll show you a room and you can rest up; you sure look like you need it."

Hope tried to smile, but the result was poor. She began to head inside, but then turned. "Wait, Mr...." She stopped, realising she didn't even know the man's name. "I wanted to thank you."

"No thanks required," he replied. "And the name's Calvin. Calvin McKay."

"Thank you, Mr McKay." Hope turned and walked inside, Nellie following.

He had to take his horse to the livery and get it brushed down and fed, and then there was the report to Sheriff Wyatt. But just for that moment, Calvin stood and watched her go.

And he had no idea why.

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