"Morning, miss. Pay the toll to pass."
Since when did she have to pay to cross the bridge? If it got her through, fine. There was always more money to be made. "How much?"
"Fifty cents." The man with a raspy voice and soft jawline stared her down.
Verity dug in her dress pocket and counted out the coins. She passed them to the man with the raspy voice.
Her horse took a step forward and the other man, who was short and lean, extended a hand to stop her and said, "Fifty cents."
Verity scrunched her nose and said, "I just paid fifty cents."
"You paid him." He smiled and the hole where a tooth should've been gaped back at her.
"I...You can't charge me double! Your terms were fifty cents. If you wanted double, you should've asked for it. I'm not paying that much. Let me through."
"Hey, Joe." The soft jawline man, who must then be Rob Bertrand, scratched his chin. "Do you think we should let the lady pass?"
"Hmmm. I would let a lady pass, sure." Joe's smile curled into a sneer. "But this ain't no lady."
"That's enough, men," a familiar voice sprung up behind her. Verity turned to see Butch, the onion man, riding toward the bridge, layered in envious warmth with his face half covered in a menacing cloth. She didn't know whether to be more afraid or relieved.
"Says who?" Rob asked.
"Yeah, says who?" Joe parroted.
"Says Butch."
Jaime's men exchanged glances and Verity pulled her cloak closer. There was no use in trying to escape.
"Is that Butch as in Eddie Butcher?" Joe asked.
Butch nodded and slid down his face covering. "The one and only."
Verity shivered from the cold and from uncertainty. Did Butch know who she was? Joe Pool's brother, Ben, had warned her that Jaime had a bounty on her. Were all three men going to fight for the reward?
Jaime's men shared a glance and nod. Joe moved his horse over in indication she was free to pass. The glares of hatred from the two men weren't lost on her. Butch followed her across the bridge, and when they were safely on the other side of the river, Verity turned and saw that Rob was gone. She hoped he wasn't running for the cavalry.
Butch asked, "So Jaime's got it in for ya?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Any enemy of Jaime's is a friend of mine. Got any onions on you?"
Verity chuckled. "Sorry, fresh out. Why do you hate Jaime?"
"Let's just say, Jaime's been making a mess for me and my men. We were once free to move around and take what we needed, now he stops us or charges us. He's killed many of my men."
"Who are your men?"
"My men." He shrugged as if that clarified his answer. "Some people like to give us stupid names. Bandits is one I hear most often."
Verity's eyes widened, realizing the ruthless leader of the bandits rode next to her chatting casually. He had been against two men, and Jaime's men backed down like scared puppies. Verity wasn't so sure she wanted to be friendly with him, and she didn't want to find out the hard way he intended to cash in the bounty himself. "Well, I best be going. Thank you for your help."
"Now wait a minute there, Miss Arris."
Verity stopped. Her hands shook. She couldn't out-ride this man any better than the other two. She boldly met his eyes and tipped her chin up. "Yes?"
"I heard the story of what you did to Jaime Perez."
She gulped.
"And I sure would hate to piss you off. If you ever need a hand, give me a holler."
Verity smiled in surprise. She'd just made friends with the leader of the bandits. "Thank you, Butch. I appreciate it."
"Oh, and Miss Arris? If you ever decide you'd like a life more excitin' than farmin', come find me any time. I like a bold woman." Butch winked.
Verity smiled in acknowledgment. Had he just proposed? "I'll keep that in mind."
He tipped his hat to her and turned north on Adams Street. Verity kicked the horse into a gallop and traveled straight to Hartley's Blacksmith and Gallery. The doors were closed and locked. Verity cupped her hand at the window, and no one manned the desk. Curious, Verity stepped away from the building and walked her horse toward the front door of the cabin, crossing an open grassy area.
A rifle boomed from the back of the house, and Verity dashed to the front door. It wasn't deer hunting season for two more months. Another shot rang out and Verity pounded her fist in desperation and opened the front door herself. "Hello?"
Inside she found a woman, very similar in appearance to herself, staring straight at her. This must be Mathew's sister. "April?"
"Who are you?" April clutched the baby closer and squinted at her.
"Verity Arris."
April's eyes widened with understanding and she relaxed her posture. "It's you. The one Jaime thought I was."
"I'm afraid so. I'm sorry for what happened to you. It wasn't fair," Verity said to the woman she'd admired from afar. "And I'm sorry for barging in here, but I heard a rifle shot."
"I heard it too. You can stay until the men say it's safe. No one deserves what happened to me, except Jaime himself."
"Can I just say that I'm so proud of everything you've done for this town and for Sam? I've read the stories in the newspaper, and I've been an admirer of you since." Verity cast her eyes to her feet. "I've been trapped on a farm because of Jaime, not out saving the world."
April smiled. "I only did what I had to do for the people I cared about. I couldn't leave them to fend for themselves, and after a while, this place was home."
Verity respected the woman's strength and selflessness. Mathew helped animals at the clinic and showed Verity a great time, despite his fear of rollercoasters and flying. So, Verity could see some of his sister's traits in him. But Mathew also dragged her along to New York City for his own selfish needs and rejected her request for a marriage proposal. Now was not the time to dwell on it.
"I'd love to stay and chat," April continued, "but someone's out there and we don't know who. Both of us have enemies. Take this bag in case my brother needs it—"
"Matt's here?" Verity's heart skipped one too many times, and her knees wobbled.
"Help him with whatever's going on. I'm going to hide with little Mathew."
Verity nodded, and mother and child disappeared behind a thick cedar door. Verity held the bag close and watched through the back window with dread. The standard game of battle—guess who would be dead, alive, or injured. She only hoped it wouldn't be Mathew.
***
MATHEW RUSHED to the back window with the gunshot still echoing across the field. A second one rattled the quiet morning and Mathew ducked. Sam jumped to his feet and closed the distance to the door. "Did ye see anyone?"
A canine yelp followed the second echo. Sam bolted out the door in only his trousers. Mathew felt obligated to follow in his thin dress shirt and pants. He shouted to Sam, "Is it wise to be half-dressed outside in the winter chasing after a gunman?"
Sam shouted back over his shoulder, "It's disappointing to see men of the future turn soft. Move yer feet. We have to catch him."