Stunned by what had transpired, Victoria attempted to gather her composure as she watched them walk away.
“Miss, are you well?” a voice asked from behind her.
Victoria turned to the well-dressed young man and nodded. “Yes. I’m fine. Thank you.”
She glanced up to see the driver had been bound and gagged but appeared otherwise unharmed as two of the other passengers hurried to untie his ropes and set him free.
“May I assist you back on the stage?” the man asked, offering Victoria his hand.
“Thank you,” she said, dipping her head slightly in polite appreciation as she accepted the hand he held out and climbed back in the stagecoach.
As she scooted into the seat she’d occupied since the stage left Heppner two hours ago, she glanced around. The coach was full. An older couple rode next to Victoria, facing forward. The young man who’d offered her assistance sat with two other men in suits facing the back. Two miners and a cheeky boy who had to be about fifteen sat on the uncomfortable backless center bench. At least it wasn’t a terribly long journey to have to ride in such discomfort.
When the passengers returned to their seats and the driver once again guided the horses down the road, everyone began talking about the robbery. The young man in the suit leaned forward and said something to the boy on the center bench who kept staring at Victoria. They traded places and the young man pulled a notepad and pencil from his pocket.
“Miss, if you don’t wish to speak with me, I won’t bother you, but my name is Tom Grove. I own the newspaper in Hardman and was wondering if you would mind sharing your thoughts on the robbery. You got as good a look as anyone at the outlaws. The sheriff has been trying to catch them for months, but they always seem to slip away.”
Victoria nodded at him and settled back against her seat. The brooch she’d dropped into her corset poked her tender skin with each bounce of the stage wheels, but she wouldn’t complain. She was too grateful it hadn’t been stolen.
She took out her handkerchief, wiped the lingering moisture from the finger that no longer bore her wedding ring, and tugged on her glove. She couldn’t begin to articulate let alone comprehend the sensations she experienced as that horrid man sucked the ring off her finger. It was utterly indecent and thoroughly…invigorating.
What was she thinking? She had no business being attracted to anyone, much less an outlaw!
Annoyed with herself, she primly straightened in her seat and looked at the man across from her. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Grove. My brother and sister-in-law have mentioned you in passing. Your wife is Lila. Is that correct?”
Tom grinned at her and nodded. “That’s right.” He leaned back and studied her for a long moment. “Are you Grayson Carter’s sister?”
“Yes. Victoria Carter,” she said, refusing to include her married name. Not when her fondest wish would be to erase every memory and mention of Wendell Ness from her life.
“Gray and Claire didn’t mention you were planning to come for a visit when I last saw them.” Tom braced his right arm on his knee. “This is a sorry way for you to be welcomed to the area.”
“The robbery definitely adds a sense of the wild west to this adventure,” she said in a light tone, hoping the turmoil swirling in her stomach would soon quiet.
Tom grinned. “Well, that is one way to look at it.” He cleared his throat and leaned toward her, dropping his voice. “I couldn’t help but notice you seemed to be observing the outlaws. Do you recall any specific details about them?”
“It seems to me they purposely do all they can to remain nondescript. Their clothes are the same color, same quality, and they speak with southern accents. Only the one who took me out of the stage has a believable accent, though. The robbers don’t seem intent on doing bodily harm, although I was concerned about losing a finger for a few moments.” Her nose wrinkled at the thought of the reprobate sucking on her finger until the ring popped off.
How dare he take such liberties with her person! It was shocking and indecent…and she’d likely spend weeks thinking about the enthralling experience.
Tom scribbled notes on his notepad. “Did you notice anything distinctive about any of the men? Anything that might help identify them?”
Victoria might not have many useful skills, but she was good at studying people, with the exception of her husband. Apparently, her powers of observation failed when it came to that…murderer. Wendell had pulled the wool over her eyes time and again. What a fool she’d been where he was concerned. An unbelievably ridiculous, addlepated fool.
Aware that Tom waited for her to say something, Victoria forced her thoughts back to the matter at hand. “The one who…removed my ring, I saw a glimpse of his chin. I might recognize it if I saw it again. With his darkened spectacles, I was unable to discern the color of his eyes. The man the other one referred to as Guy has brown eyes, a rather bland hue, along with a slight limp in his left leg, like it healed poorly from an injury.”
Tom’s eyebrows lifted upward as he furiously took notes then he gave her an appreciative glance. “How tall would you say they both were?”
“If my approximations are accurate, I’d say the one called Bub was a bit over six-foot while Guy seemed several inches shorter. The other men appeared to be closer to his height than Bub’s. What ridiculous names.” She closed her eyes and tried to recall any other pertinent details. “Bub smelled of horses and leather, with a hint of something else, although I’m not certain I could identify the specific aroma. Guy carried a heavy scent, almost like kerosene, along with an odor that gave me the idea he and bathing are not regular acquaintances. I could detect a hint of alcohol, as though he’d imbibed before setting out to rob the stage.”
Rather than open her eyes, she drew in another breath and tried not to fidget when the brooch poked her again. “I’m quite certain Bub is left-handed. He carried a Colt double-action revolver with inlaid pearl grips while Guy had a Smith & Wesson weapon. I believe it was one manufactured last year.”
Everyone had grown silent by this time, listening to Victoria’s recollections of the robbers.
Mindful of the silence lingering around her, she opened her eyes and offered her most charming smile to the couple sitting beside her. “Do you recall any additional details, Mr. Flagstaff?”
The old man blustered on for five minutes about the deplorable state of travel, the fact he planned to demand something be done to ensure the safety of stagecoach passengers, and insist the stage company pay for the loss of his gold pocket watch.
The other passengers offered their thoughts on the outlaws then Tom tipped his head to Victoria once again.
“Thank you for your help, Miss Carter. I intend to share what I wrote down with the sheriff as soon as we arrive in Hardman.” Tom offered her a friendly smile. “I hope you, Gray, Claire, and Maddie will join us for supper one evening soon. Lila will be so happy to meet you.”
“I look forward to meeting her, too. Claire sends such newsy letters I feel as though I already know many people in Hardman.”
“And you said Gray and Claire are expecting you?” Tom probed. Victoria assumed his work as a newspaperman made him naturally inquisitive and took it as such rather than him being meddlesome.