Read Online Katy Run Away by Maren Smith - Free Book Online Page A

was evening now. The sun had almost set, casting the desert in a gloom of shadow and greyness. The lamps were lit up near the horses, but inside the coach everything was much darker and all Katy could hear was the rumbling rattle of carriage wheels coming to an abrupt stop and a frightening cacophony of shots and shouts.
    “Don’t be stupid!” and “Put that rifle down!” were both repeated numerous times and in a variety of hard and growling voices. They were followed by a particularly chilling pistol report and an almost congenial sounding, “I’ll put the next one right through you, my friend. Now, drop it.”
    Beside her, Cal must have fallen asleep too, because as fast as she came awake, he was also struggling to sit up. He still had one arm around her, and he quickly shifted it from her shoulders to her stomach, pressing her flat against the cushioned wall and out of view of the fluttering gaps between the window curtains. There was a slight rock to the carriage and then the unmistakable sound of a wood and metal rifle falling to the ground.
    “Thank you,” the congenial man said. “Hands up. There’s a good boy. Now, don’t do anything we’re going to have to shoot you for. This is just a friendly, localized robbery. Do as we tell you, and we’ll leave living people instead of bodies behind us.”
    Looking from one window to the next, Katy jumped when she heard footsteps on the ground just outside.
    “Hello, the coach,” the man called, his tone still casual and calm. “How many are you. and are you unarmed?”
    Beside her, Cal looked at her and then back out the window. He hesitated only a few seconds before replying, “Two, and I am not. My pistol is holstered and I have an unarmed woman sitting beside me.”
    “I don’t care if the pope himself is sitting beside you. If you do something stupid, I swear I’ll kill you both.” In spite of his words, he remained cheerful. Katy could almost hear him smiling. “Are you at all confused about what is transpiring here?”
    Cal looked at her. “No, sir,” he said grimly.
    “Good man. Here’s what I want you to do. You are going to leave your gun holstered. You are going to take off your gun belt and very slowly and carefully pass it out the window to me. You are also going to keep in mind that any deviation from this plan, either accidental or otherwise, will result my ordering the carriage and both of its unfortunate occupants to be brutally shot as many times as it takes to reassure me that you are no longer a deadly threat to me or my men. Do you understand the terms as I have issued them?”
    This time Cal offered no hesitation. “Yes.”
    “Wonderful.” The bandit outside knocked twice on the door of the carriage, signaling which side he was on. “Pass out your gun.”
    It was the most frightening situation she had ever been in. Katy sat frozen, hardly daring to breathe as Cal unfastened his gun belt, coiling it twice in his hands before passing it out through the window curtains. It was taken from him, and a moment later, the door jerked open.
    Katy had never seen a real live bandit before. She’d seen pictures of them on wanted posters and such, but never had she seen one in real life. The first thing that struck her was that he didn’t look anything at all like a criminal ought to. He wasn’t fat, or slovenly, or dirty. He didn’t seem to be uneducated or hostile, but was lean and swarthy, only partially illuminated by the amber glow of the driver’s lights up front. His dark hair mingled with the shadows under his hat and at least three-days’ worth of beard growth blanketed his chin. His clothes were neat and clean. His boots were dusty but polished, and his spurs caught the dim light as he propped one boot up on the carriage step and leaned his forearm upon his knee. Most of his features were lost in the shadow beneath his hat brim, but she could see his mouth clearly enough. He was smiling.
    “Good evening. Ma’am.” He