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While Jamie was finishing his plate, Sadie sat silently at his side, her stillness sharp as a drawn knife. It felt like, outside of her thirst for vengeance, the rest of the world barely touched her.
When his meal was done and his strength mostly back, Jamie figured it was time to stretch his legs and see what the town was saying about the morning's clinic robbery—and whether word of the O'Driscolls losing their stash had spread.
He slid his dark, wide-brimmed hat back onto his head and glanced at Sadie. "I'm stepping out for a bit, see what's stirring outside. You coming along?"
Sadie pushed herself up and gave a short nod. "Alright. Bring that new gun with you. Here—take these." She dug into her pocket and poured a handful of revolver cartridges into his palm.
"Thanks," Jamie said quickly, grateful.
He opened the wooden box on the desk, lifted the polished Schofield revolver, and checked its frame.
Satisfied, he popped the cylinder open, slid the bullets in smooth, gave it a spin, then holstered the weapon at his belt.
After locking the room behind them, the two had barely set foot on the stairs when Mary-Beth burst into the saloon below, breathless and wild-eyed.
Her sudden entrance made half the bar turn to stare, but she barreled straight for the staircase.
"Mary-Beth, what's wrong? Why the panic?" Jamie called down.
She looked up, catching sight of him. "Jamie—you're up! Is Arthur here? Is he with you?"
"He went back to camp right after you three left. Should be on the road by now."
Her face paled further. "Arthur's not here?" Her voice cracked with worry.
Jamie tried to steady her. "Easy now. Tell me slow. What happened?"
She sucked in a breath and blurted, "It's Tilly. Some bastard recognized her on the street—grabbed her, said he was taking her off."
Jamie's blood ran hot. "Where?"
"When I ran in, he was dragging her into the alley beside the Saints Hotel."
Jamie didn't waste a second.
He bolted down the stairs and out into the street, Sadie and Mary-Beth pounding after him. Across from the saloon, the mouth of the alley beside the Saint Peter's Hotel looked empty.
Refusing to lose a moment, Jamie sprinted into the narrow passage and pushed through to the back lot.
Behind the hotel, the yard opened wide
. Jamie's eyes swept fast until he caught sight of pale yellow fabric flaring in the distance.
Tilly's dress. He ran hard toward it.
Sure enough, Tilly was still struggling against a man's grip, her resistance slowing him down.
Jamie drew his Schofield in a flash, leveled it, and shouted, "Stop right there! Let her go, or I'll drop you where you stand!"
Tilly twisted at the sound of his voice, relief washing over her face. "Jamie!" she cried.
Jamie gave her a quick nod, then set his jaw and barked again at the man clutching her. "You heard me—hands off her. now!"
The man turned and found Jamie pointing a gun at him.
He didn't flinch. Instead he looked at Tilly and asked calmly, "Who is he?"
"He's with me," Tilly managed, voice shaking.
"Sir, I'll say this once more—let her go." Jamie's voice was low and hard, each word a warning.
The man released Tilly's arm and glanced back at Jamie. "Now, now. This is private business between us and our crew."
"If you insist on takin' her, that'll be private business between you and me."
The man spat and took a step back. "Fine, I'm goin'. But I reckon I got a few things to say to Tilly first." He leaned close to the girl and sneered, "Didn't think I'd find you, did ya?"
"Do what you want—don't bring me into it," Tilly snapped.
"You made a mistake, Tilly Jackson. You won't get away with it. I'll find you again." He walked off down the street, leaving a sour aftertaste in the air.
Jamie let out a long breath when the man vanished from sight. "You okay, Tilly?" he asked.
Tilly rubbed at her sleeve where it'd been torn. "I'm fine—just a ripped cuff. I can stitch it up. Thanks, Jamie. And thanks, Sadie." She offered Sadie a grateful smile.
Jamie nodded and said, "We look after family. Don't sweat it."
"Right. Mary-Beth, get her back to the room," Jamie told the others. "Where's Karen? Weren't you with her earlier?"
Mary-Beth frowned. "Karen? We went to the grocer and a clothing shop together. Karen spotted some drunk and figured she'd try 'n' rob him—easy pickin'. Said she'd take him to the hotel. But it's been some time; she hasn't come back."
Jamie's face tightened. "Then she might be in trouble too. We should check the hotel first."
So the four of them moved back toward the main street, Jamie leading the way.
"Look—Arthur!" Tilly suddenly called, spotting a figure in the distance.
There was chatter on the street. Arthur didn't seem to hear at first, but when Tilly and Mary-Beth both started calling, he turned and saw them waving.
Jamie didn't want to waste a moment. "Wait here for Arthur. I'll go look inside first." He hurried into the hotel.
Sadie watched him go, brows knotted with worry. "I'll come too," she said, following close behind.
Arthur heard the calls as he walked and cut his pace to meet them. Mary-Beth rushed forward and blurted out what she knew about Karen.
When Arthur heard that Jamie and Sadie had already gone in, he said, "You lot hang back over there. I'll check it out too." He set off, urgency in his step.
Jamie stepped into the hotel, the scent of whiskey and cigar smoke heavy in the air. The owner behind the counter straightened up with a welcoming smile. "Evenin', sir. What can I help you with—"
Jamie cut him off, his tone sharp with urgency. "A girl just came in here with a drunk fella. Blonde hair, white lace top. You'd remember her if you saw her."
The innkeeper blinked, then nodded. "Aye, they came through. Took room 203 upstairs. You a friend of… the gentleman, or the lady?"
Jamie didn't bother to answer.
The moment he heard the number, he was already moving for the stairs, Sadie right on his heels.
The owner leaned over the counter, calling after him nervously. "Sir, please! Don't bring no trouble in here!"
Jamie ignored him.
At the top of the stairs, he hurried down the hallway, scanning the numbers until he spotted 203.
Before he even reached the door, a crash sounded from inside, followed by a sharp cry: "Let me go!"
Then came a man's slurred growl: "I paid for it! She's mine tonight!"
Jamie lunged at the door, twisting the handle.
Locked.
Without hesitation, he stepped back, slammed his shoulder into the wood, and burst it open.
The room reeked of cheap booze and sweat. Karen lay on the floor, her face bruised, while a half-dressed man towered over her.
The drunk snapped his head toward Jamie, fury in his eyes. "Who the hell are you? Bustin' in like that!"
Before Jamie could answer, a steady hand landed on his shoulder. Arthur stepped past him, calm but dangerous.
"We're her friends," he said flatly, pointing to Karen on the floor.
"Friends?" the man barked, his words thick with liquor. "Don't matter! I paid, and I'll do as I please. Get the hell out!"
Arthur's jaw clenched.
He looked at Karen's bloodied lip, and the anger in his eyes burned hotter. "You think payin' gives you the right to beat on a woman? You filthy bastard."
The drunk sneered, swinging wildly. "She didn't give me what I wanted! I'll take it outta one of you instead!"
Arthur ducked the first punch with ease, then drove his fist hard into the man's gut.
The drunk folded with a groan, stumbling back. Arthur pressed forward, an uppercut cracking against his jaw.
The man crumpled to the floor.
Karen, breathing hard, pushed herself up, her face set in fury. She stepped over and delivered a sharp kick to the man's head.
He collapsed fully, groaning and clutching his stomach and nose.
Arthur gave him another solid kick, knocking him out cold. He turned back to Karen, eyes softening. "You hurt bad? What the hell were you doin' here alone?"
Karen wiped at the corner of her mouth, straightening her dress with a shaky laugh. "Don't fuss over me. I thought I'd have a bit of fun with some drunk fool, but turns out he wasn't as easy as I figured." She glanced at Jamie and Sadie standing in the doorway. "Not my proudest moment bein' saved like this, but… thank you. Both of you. And you, Arthur."
Before anyone could say more, Karen crouched down and rifled through the unconscious man's pockets
. She came up grinning with a wad of bills and coins. "Might as well get paid for the trouble," she said with a smirk, then walked toward the door.
The four of them stepped back out into the cool evening air, making their way across the street.
Arthur spotted Mary-Beth and Tilly waiting anxiously.
He lifted his hat in greeting.
"Ladies, I reckon it's time y'all head on back. When I was at camp earlier, Miss Grimshaw was already wonderin' where you'd run off to. She near chewed me out for not tyin' you up and draggin' you back myself."
"Oh, I have to go back and face Ms. Grimshaw again." Mary-Beth sighed dramatically, dragging her feet a little.
"Mary-Beth, Ms. Grimshaw's a lot nicer to you than she is to me. Have you ever seen her not scold me?" Tilly muttered, pulling a face at the thought.
"That's true. She does seem to have it out for you more than anyone else," Mary-Beth whispered back with a guilty smile.
Arthur clapped his hands together, cutting them off. "Alright, enough gossip. We ain't got all day. I'll head to the butcher and get us some meat. Jamie, why don't you swing by the general store next door and grab some fresh vegetables. Ladies, fetch your guns from upstairs and then help Jamie carry the load back. We'll meet where we left the wagon this morning." He pulled two ten-dollar bills from his coat pocket and handed them to Jamie. "Use this for the supplies. We'll split today's take with the camp when we get back."
Jamie pocketed the money and asked, "Any kind of vegetables work, or you want something particular?" He passed the room key to Mary-Beth as he spoke.
"Whatever you find, just don't skimp," Arthur answered before striding off toward the butcher shop.
Jamie turned to Sadie with a half-grin. "Mrs. Adler, looks like I'll be needing an extra pair of hands. Hope you don't mind."
Sadie gave a curt nod. "Wouldn't be the first time."
Inside the general store, Jamie glanced around, trying not to look too out of place.
He leaned on the counter and asked the shopkeeper what fresh produce he had.
Under the man's curious stare, Jamie double-checked the weights and measures before piling up goods: tomatoes, carrots, corn, onions, potatoes, a bundle of beans, oats, and two hefty blocks of cheddar cheese.
Remembering Pearson's stew from camp, he even tossed in some apples.
Sadie stood beside him with her arms crossed, eyebrows raised as the stack of food grew higher. "You plannin' on feedin' the whole of Valentine?" she asked dryly.
Jamie chuckled and waved her off. "That should do it. What's the total?" he asked the storekeeper.
The man scribbled numbers on a scrap of paper, counted twice, then looked up. "Eighteen dollars and ten cents."
Jamie blinked. "Eighteen and ten? After all this business, no discount?" he muttered under his breath before handing over one of Arthur's bills.
He took his change, shaking his head.
The doorbell jingled, and in came Mary-Beth, Tilly, and Karen, each with their revolvers tucked at their sides.
Jamie pointed to the sacks and boxes waiting by the counter. "Perfect timing. Help me haul this stuff."
Sadie tilted her head toward the door. "Or you could just have Arthur bring the wagon around. Might save us breakin' our backs."
Jamie froze, then smacked his forehead.
She was right.
He'd been so caught up in proving himself he hadn't thought of the simplest solution.
With a sheepish grin, he turned back to the girls.
"Yeah, reckon that'd be smarter. You all wait here. I'll go fetch Arthur and bring the wagon 'round."