The problem with having two identities was that someone would eventually figure them both out. Castillo’s grandfather had told him that with a frown when he’d learned that Castillo had started running cattle. It had been about five years ago, but it looked as if the prediction had finally come to pass.
Castillo Jameson, aka Reyes, leader of the notorious Reyes Brothers, lowered the brim of his hat to shadow his face. It was too late, though. The man at the other end of the train car had already recognized him as the leader of the gang of outlaws, wanted for crimes committed much further south than Montana Territory. Castillo could tell it from the stiff set of the man’s shoulders and the way the man’s left hand had shifted to the armrest, holding it in a white-knuckled grip. He tried to keep his attention focused on the scenery out the window, but his eyes twitched back toward Castillo in a nervous glance.
“Damn.” Castillo stretched his leg out a little farther and tapped the boot of his friend, Zane Pierce, who sat facing him. Zane glanced up from the drawing he’d been sketching, but once his dark eyes got a look at Castillo’s face he flipped his sketchbook shut and tucked it into the breast pocket of his coat. Visible holsters weren’t allowed on the train, but Castillo had a knife in his boot and a small-frame Smith & Wesson tucked into his coat. The problem would be confronting the man on a crowded train. Nearly every row was filled with people—many of them women and children—traveling west.
He waited for the man to pretend to look out the window again before nodding to Zane, who glanced over to set eyes on the man before leaning back in his seat. “Son of a bitch,” Zane said with a grin. “We’ve spent years hunting for Derringer. Never thought his son would show up when we weren’t looking.”
Castillo stared at the man from beneath the brim of his hat. He was too wary from years of getting close to his prey, only to face disappointment, to allow himself to hope now.
Zane’s words released the grip Castillo held on his control. His heart pounded like it was trying to beat its way out of his chest, and his fists clenched. Years of searching and they’d never been this close. Not once. His skin tightened like it was suddenly a size too small, but he forced himself to appear calm. “You sure that’s him?”
“Hell, yeah, I’m sure. That’s Bennett Derringer, Buck’s son. That little son of a bitch gave me this.” Zane raised his hand to indicate a pink scar that ran through his eyebrow and down his cheek, narrowly missing his eye. “I’ll never forget him.”
Castillo had met Buck Derringer and his family when the man had partnered with his grandfather. Before everything had gone to hell and Derringer had killed Castillo’s grandfather. Bennett, Derringer’s son, had been a teenager then. This man was young, maybe in his early twenties, with a full beard.
When Derringer had killed Castillo’s grandfather and run off with the money his grandfather had invested in their partnership, the Derringer family had disappeared, leading Castillo to think they’d changed their name. Castillo and his gang had heard tales of sightings, but those sightings had been from disreputable people and led to dead ends. The trail had long gone cold.
Castillo and the rest of the gang had taken a break from tracking him long enough to take Castillo’s younger brother, Miguel, to university back East. Miguel hadn’t wanted to go, but after they’d nearly lost him just a couple of months earlier, when he’d been kidnapped by Ship Campbell, one of the many enemies Castillo had made in his line of work as an outlaw, he’d seen no other choice. He didn’t want Miguel to follow in his footsteps, but what else had he expected? Castillo was the boy’s only living relative; it was inevitable that Miguel would idolize the gang.
What were the odds that they’d find their first solid clue to Derringer’s whereabouts on a train from Boston?
“He’s made us,” Castillo said, mentally tallying the number of people on the car. Too damn many.
“Doesn’t matter. He won’t do anything here. We just keep an eye on him and follow him when he gets off,” Zane said.
Castillo wasn’t so sure. The man looked twitchy. Castillo wasn’t close enough to tell, but he’d swear the way Bennett was tugging on his collar that a bead of sweat had broken out on his brow. Dammit, if only he’d seen Bennett first. They could’ve kept out of sight and followed him without him even knowing it.
“Mierda! He’s on the move.” Bennett had risen and turned to jiggle the door that led to the next car, on his way toward the back of the train.
“Where the hell is he going? It’s a damn train.” Zane asked, rising to his feet just after Castillo did.
Castillo shook his head, trying to keep his composure so no one in the car would be alerted. He nodded his head in greeting as they passed the curious gazes of the other passengers. This could get ugly real quick.
He reached the door Bennett had passed through, just in time to see him jiggling the handle of the door to the next car in the line. It was a passenger car, like the one they’d occupied, but the two after that were cars with private compartments. Things could get difficult if Bennett got far enough ahead to disappear into one of them. No way in hell did Castillo plan to let him hide, but they’d have a lot of explaining to do, knocking on all of those doors. It’d be best to catch him before he could disappear.
Damn, he was supposed to be Castillo Jameson on this trip. He and Zane were headed to the Jameson Ranch just outside Helena, far away from Texas where the Reyes Brothers were known. They weren’t the Reyes Brothers right now, but it looked like they didn’t have a choice. Trouble had come to them anyway.
* * *
Your father and I would see you married, Caroline. This year. Your place in this world is to be a wife and mother first, and a physician second.
I’ve not changed my position on furthering your medical education. With many reservations, I grant you permission, but only with the caveat that you’re wed. If your husband agrees to your education, then go with our blessing.
Your father and I have discussed this. The decision has been made. You are to come home after the wedding and meet the young man I have in mind for you.
With a little luck, we’ll begin to plan your own wedding.
Your loving mother
Caroline Hartford stared at the rumpled letter in her hand. She’d had it for days now, and every time she read the thing it managed to make her chest feel heavy and hollow at the same time. The message had come on the morning before they’d left her aunt’s home in Boston to begin their trip west, a special delivery by courier from her mother who was visiting New York City with friends. What had been a joyous morning of packing and anticipation had quickly soured, those happy feelings replaced with dread and bitter betrayal.
Betrayal. There. She’d finally thought it after all this time trying to name it something else. Her fingers clenched