“Bill, would you tell me something? It’s been on my mind.”
“I’ve got no secrets from you.”
She lowered her eyes. “Why didn’t you just send for me … like you did last time?”
“Last time you was followed.” Doolin smiled indulgently. “I aim to make sure you’re not followed this time. That way nobody’ll ever know where to find us.”
“Oh, I love the sound of it! No more worrying whether we’re being spied on. Just the three of us—a new life!”
“But we gotta do it right. You don’t start loadin’ that wagon till it gets dark. No sense tippin’ our hand.”
“I’ll remember,” she said with a vigorous nod. “We’ve got supplies enough to last till we’re out of the territory. Won’t take long to load.”
Doolin patted her hand. “Don’t worry if you don’t see me right away. I’ll be waitin’ somewhere on the trail to Eagle Creek. Anybody tries to follow you, I’ll take care of it.”
“I know you will.” She paused, her voice suddenly husky. “Couldn’t you stay the night? It’s been so long since we … were together.”
“Plenty of time for that later. Better safe than sorry, and I’m lots safer back at my camp. One more night won’t matter.”
She walked him through the hall. Doolin waved to the Ellsworths and followed her into the kitchen. At the back door, she melted into his arms, gave him a long, passionate kiss. He gently stroked her hair, then stepped into the night.
After closing the door, she danced across the kitchen, her skirts flying. John and Sarah Ellsworth looked up as she hurried into the parlor. Her eyes were bright with happiness, her smile radiant.
“Only one more day! We leave tomorrow night!”
* * *
Shortly after sunrise the lawmen parted with Tom Noble south of Lawson. They skirted west a mile, then entered the woods and worked their way back in the direction of town. A half hour later they found the old logging road.
The Ellsworth house was visible from the trees. Outside, they saw the wagon, the horse loosely tied to the rear. After scouting the area, they picketed their own horses deep in the woods, away from the road. At the edge of the treeline, they settled down to wait.
Throughout the day, one slept while the other kept watch. The telescope from Tilghman’s saddlebags brought the house into sharp focus. They saw John Ellsworth depart for work shortly before eight o’clock, and later, Edith Doolin came out with a bucket of oats for the horse. The morning passed uneventfully, and as the afternoon dragged on, there was still no sign of activity. They continued to watch.
Tilghman and Thomas were both of the opinion that Edith Doolin would head for the Nations. Once there, knowing she’d been trailed the last time, she would probably attempt some new dodge to throw off pursuit. They surmised that she would not turn north toward Kansas, for Doolin never used the same plan twice. Instead, they thought she would meet Doolin at some backwoods whistle stop, where the Katy railroad bisected Indian Territory. A train from there could take them north or south, possibly Missouri or Texas. Where they planned to travel after that was pure conjecture, and of no great importance. The lawmen intended to waylay Doolin in the Nations.
Late that afternoon Tilghman was on watch. As the sun dropped below the horizon, he saw Ellsworth return home from the store. Lamps glowed in the house, and within minutes twilight faded into darkness. The night was crisp and clear, the sky brilliant with the glimmer of stars. Another hour passed, and when Thomas came to relieve him, he suggested that they pitch camp by their horses, fix a pot of coffee. There seemed little likelihood of anything happening tonight. Thomas agreed.
But then, as they started to turn away, Tilghman caught a flicker of movement outside the house. He extended the telescope, training it on the wagon, which was dimly visible in a spill of lamplight from the windows. Looking closer, he saw Edith Doolin, assisted by her father, loading bundles into the wagon. When they finished, her father went to hitch the horse as her mother came out the back door with the baby. Finally, after a quick round of hugs, she climbed into the wagon seat. Her mother handed up the baby.
Tilghman was on the verge of sending Thomas to fetch their horses. But he hesitated, somewhat astounded, watching as Edith Doolin swung the wagon around and headed in their direction. Taken off guard, he and Thomas discussed their options, and quickly formulated a plan. They retreated roughly a mile deeper into the woods, and posted themselves on either side of the road. When the Doolin woman passed by, Tilghman would trail her on foot and Thomas would follow along with their horses. The logging road ended at Eagle Creek, some two miles farther on, and beyond that were open plains. They would have to trail her at a distance.
Some while later, hidden behind a tree, Tilghman watched as the wagon approached their positions. He readied himself to follow along, but suddenly froze, listening. From the opposite direction, toward Eagle Creek, he heard the slow clop of hoofbeats on hard earth. He craned around, looking over his shoulder, and saw a man on foot leading a horse. A shaft of starlight flooded the road, and as the distance closed to less than ten yards, the man’s features became visible. Directly across from his position, he picked up a blurred shadow out of the corner of his eye. Thomas stepped into the road.
“Doolin! Surrender or be killed!”
Doolin’s pistol appeared in his hand as though by magic. He fired from the hip, and the slug thunked into a tree behind Thomas. A split-second later, the carbine at Thomas’s shoulder spat a streak of flame. Doolin staggered backward, arms windmilling, and his horse bolted down the road. His knees buckled and he dropped to the ground, the pistol skittering from his hand. His chest rose and fell
