The Repentant Thief

By Fiona Ann Burdon

Shaylee ...
The pick pocket.
The abandonment of her father eleven years ago, transported her into a life of crime, abuse, animosity and domination. Suffering abuse from her mother whom hated her. Living under the authority of her brother who believed he owned her. Protected and loved by her beloved sister. Shaylee yearned for a clean, wholesome life free of crime and pain. She yearned for a home, a husband and children. But, was bound to a vow she made eleven years ago.

Wolf ...
The Sioux warrior.
Wolf craves acceptance and a peaceful existence. Torn between two cultures, Wolf distrusts the whites. Misunderstood by own his father. Desperately loved by his mother. Raised by his Hunkpapa Lakhota Sioux grandfather. Wolf yearned to live and fight alongside his people for their survival, however, he is duty bound to serve his family.

Shaylee stood near the Cheyenne City train depot, hidden from notice, daydreaming. She notices a couple walking towards the depot, they were lovely to watch; the woman was elegant and lovely to behold, the man was dangerously beautiful. Shaylee indulges herself in watching the man’s slow process towards the depot. In her dreams, she saw herself enfolded within his loving arms, their children clinging to her skirts and happiness shining upon their faces. However, dreams never came true, especially for a dirty street rat like her.

Wolf received a sensations of being watched, the experience almost exotic in nature. The moment his ebony eyes connected with her brilliant green, he knew his life would never be the same. After witnessing the woman professionally removing his brother’s wallet from his person, Wolf gave chase; he would stop at nothing to apprehend the woman or to keep her. Wolf initially thought he had found an exceptional woman, whom accepted him as a man, not a savage, but he was wrong. She was an immoral foulmouthed thief, whom pried on people for her own gain.

Or were they both wrong?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fiona Ann Burdon
• Release date: May 18, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310129780

Fiona Ann Burdon

Fiona Burdon was born in Edinburgh, Scotland, and immigrated with her family to Canada at a young age. Growing up in Ontario, Canada, with her parents and three siblings was a very active individual; involved with many summer and winter sports. Reaching adulthood Fiona has had various exciting careers, while raising her four wonderful children. Her literary passions has long been a desire, not for fame, but notoriety and a personal achievement to see her name in print.Fiona has written one complete novel The Repentant Thief and is working to getting her transcript published. She is currently working on two novels Skye and The Cabin.

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I dedicated this book to my sister, Carole, for always giving me the strength to achieve my goals. You are my rock, my mentor and my big sister. I love you.

I thank my loving husband, for putting up with my countless hours of editing and rewriting; throughout many years is the completion of this book. Thank you my love.

PROLOGUE

New York City

March 1861

What are we to do once you’re gone? His distort wife exclaimed passionately, while watched her husband pushing his meager possessions into one dog-eared carpetbag. She tried unemotionally to reason with him and to understand his rationality for leaving, but to no evade. The panic she suffered was beginning make her hysterical, even desperate.

You tell me how I’m to survive? You cannot leave me here with three children! You cannot do this to me.

Abandoning his packing temporarily, he took his wife by the shoulders. Me darlin’, wae’ll nay be apart fir long, When a get tae where a’ll be ganin’; ye and the weans ye’ll follow. Ye’ll see, luv. I ken it’s nay a good time, but the lads are leavin’ this very morning, a dinna want to miss this opportunity.

She knew he was trying to reassure her with honeyed words and a soothing touch, although blindly he could not comprehend, that nothing would help to smooth his departure or his wife and children’s near penniless predicament.

That he intended to seek out his fortune never had been a secret; however, that he was planning to leave for the other side of the continent was shocking. Additionally, that he informed her of his plans the evening before was both insulting and unsettling.

It was that no-good Billy Boots’s fault for putting the thought of gold into her husbands’ empty head. Gold fever that is what they call it; she could see it in his striking green eyes, which radiated with the same fever that drew so many husbands west in search of riches. Regretfully though, he could not see clearly from the gold dust that blinded his view, to comprehend the enormous error he was making. He could not see his children peeking around the doorframe with tears in their eyes, or his wife begging him not to leave. In his fevered mind, he did not realize that it could possibly take him years to earn a fraction of what he hoped to find; thus restricting them to join him.

She would never forgive him if he left them.

He told her that it was the lack of funds prohibited them all from moving west together, but she knew differently; she knew he wanted only to be free of her; his wife. She was not dense, she knew he no longer loved her, nor could she blame him. Her life had not turn out as she would have expected, he once promised her heaven, but instead he gave her hell. They lived in the crime infested slums of New York City, their flat was good in comparison to some homes, but the neighborhood had must to be desired. He was leaving her, leaving their marriage, the children were just the casualty of the situation.

No actually, he didn’t want to leave all of them, only her, their son and youngest daughter. He had demanded to take their oldest daughter, which was his mirror imagine, but she forbid him the right. That he would take only the girl and not she enraged her with jealousy.

She loved him yet it just wasn’t enough to keep their marriage together.

She shrugged off his touch. How will I pay the rent and fed myself and the children?

A left ye ‘nough coin for the next few months. With ye sowing, ye can keep afloat until a send for ye. He grinned handsomely. Ye said ye winny let me take the lassie but think aboot it, me bonny lass. It’d be one less month to feed –

No! I will not allow it. She stays here. She threw her hands up. It is criminal that your so called friends have gotten these thoughts in your empty head that you will get rich. You will not, you know, you will leave here and die in some hole. You cannot do this to me, you promised me more, but you have given me nothing. I should have listened to Granny and Mother; they said you were no good for nothing, because you are. You are a no good, empty headed man whom thinks only about yourself and that girl. Just think about the … agh … what is the use? Nothing I say will matter. You are already gone!

Choking back her tears, unable to continue she turned her back to him. Swallowing hard trying to regain control of her emotions, shamelessly she was very close to weeping. She did not want him to grasp how distort she really was, if he did not love of her only more, then she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction in knowing how much his leaving hurt.

Luv, have ye not hae faith in me, me bonny lassie?

Spinning around, she exploded, "Faith! Bless the Virgin Mary; faith has not to do with the discovery of gold. It is luck. Luck I say! I ask you once again; how we are to survive? How can I care for three children?

Two weans if ye let me take the lassie –

Shut your damned mouth, you are not taking that girl with you. If you take her you will take all of us and that is final. She yelled, enraged that he would continuously bargain to take only his eldest daughter. Are you aware that it will take months to reach California and years until you will have the desired amount of funds to move myself and the children west.

There’s plenty of jobs oot west for a mon in need of one. Aw, me luv a’ll nay be leavin’ ye with cross words. Wale be thegither agan, ye’ll see, me lassie. Give me time –

Time! I do not have time. How can you possibly think that I would condone this? She pointed at the open bag on the table. I warn you, if you walk out that door you will not be welcomed back!

Och luv nay be like that. Why are ye having tae be nasty aboot me leaving? A told ye that a’ll be back or a’ll send for ye and the weans.

She laughed cruelly, Because of the unpretentious reason that you will have sentenced me to certain doom.

She turned away, unable to comprehend what her husband was about to do, she stared aimlessly out to the darkened street below, thinking only that he was breaking her heart and she couldn’t do or say anything that could stop him.

Wishing it was unlike him to do anything similar to this, although it was not. Since the day she met him, she knew he was reckless, a rogue, a hoodlum and agent. He had an uncanny ability to ensnare anyone into a business endeavor, even if only for a few pennies profit. While his prospects were unstable, at best, he did manage to support them in a rather comfortable but meager lifestyle. Very keen and business-minded her husband was. Cautious or wise he was not.

At thirty-one, he was a strikingly handsome man, with his Scottish charm and twinkling green eyes that drew both male and females to his attractive magnetism. He was charming, excellent with articulation, well learnt and a superb conman. The good Lord knew he could talk the Queen of England out of her draws without a scratch to his person. Had he not talked her into marriage even when she knew he was no good, but how she loved him.

What can a say, me luv? Wale hae a grand life –

We have nothing! You have your gold! Go, if you are going. I will not stand here listening to your babble about how good it could become. Just leave! With that, she quit the room.

Luv dinna be lettin’ – she slammed the bedroom door, drowning out whatever else he had to say.

Leaning against the door, she rested her head back on the rough wooden panel and her eyes closed. The tears she kept at bay slid silently down her pale cheeks. As she listened to her husband, moving around in the outer room, part of her was sinking away. When he called out to her, with such urgency in his voice, she had to fight with herself from not opening the door and run to him.

Am leavin’ Bonnie me lass. Canny ye come oot and give ye’re mon a proper guid-bye? Silence meet his beseech. Luv, I hae tae go. The boys are oot the door waiting.

She crumpled to the floor when she heard the apartment door close. Emptiness filled her heart, leaving her a bitter broken woman.

CHAPTER ONE

Cheyenne City, Wyoming Territory

May 1872

On the plains of southeastern Wyoming Territory, the monstrous black snake progressed along an isolated road of iron; surrounded by a sea of long golden grass waving in the warm morning breeze. The roar of the engine from the Great Iron Horse, a fitting name for such an impressive vehicle, was heard for miles. Thick black smoke billowed from the huge black stack high above the colossal steam engine, darkened the clear morning’s sky. As the train advancing, visibly one could see the bold letters displayed on the side of the train announcing to all that the immense vehicle was in the possession of the Union Pacific Railroad.

Discourse over connecting the country by a transcontinental railroad was discussed for years, in congress. When Theodore Judah, chief engineer for the Sacramento Valley Railroad, surveyed a route over the Sierra Nevada Mountains, many were skeptical believing it an impossible feat. As an accredited lobbyist, Judah campaigned in Washington with a proposal for federal authorization and government financing for the coast to coast railway. He enlisted the backing by four Sacramento businessmen whom called themselves The Associates – Governor Leland Stanford, Collis Huntington, Charles Crocker and Mark Hopkins. In July of 1862, after three years of lobbying, the government authorized the Union Pacific and the Central Pacific Railroads with the mission to the completion of the transcontinental railroad, under the Pacific Railroad Act of 1862.

The feat of the transcontinental railroad was accomplished through sweat and blood by some two hundred thousand laborers, mostly Chinese and European immigrates, and six years to the completion. The railroad is a memorial to the thousands of men whom died during the mass construction.

Union Pacific line originated from Omaha, Nebraska led by Thomas C. Durant vice president of the Union Pacific Railroad, construction superintendent Jack Casement, chief engineer General Grenville M. Dodge. The Union Pacific employed civil war veterans, Irish immigrants and freed negros laborers. They had to contend with the severe summer heat, dust storms, water shortages, freezing winters, snow, supply shortages, lack of payroll to workers, Indian attacks, the precarious terrain of the Rocky Mountains and the blasting of four tunnels, and murders between workers.

The Central Pacific Railroad from Sacramento, California, managed by Charles Crocker – part owner of the railroad and a member of the Associates – and chief engineer Lewis Metzler Clement. The Central Pacific employed thousands of white and Chinese laborers who had to content with horrendous weather conditions, frostbite, pneumonia, inadequate shelter and avalanches of snow while building through the rugged Sierra Nevada mountain range, blasting fifteen tunnels through miles of solid granite using nitroglycerin and black power, the erection of numerous bridges and snow sheds.

On May tenth, 1869, the Union Pacific and Central Pacific Railroads ceremonially united in Promontory Summit, Utah Territory; nationwide newspapers headlines wrote, ‘the last spike was driven’. Consequently, the connection of the transcontinental railway minimized Americans traveling from the east to west coast, to only a ten day train ride, although the price of the fare was exceedingly expensive. Hence, the average family could ill afford the price of a train ticket, which resulted in many emigrates still traveled the hazardous expedition of six months by conestoga wagon.

The innovation invention of the Transcontinental Telegraph Line aided a great number of individuals throughout the country, including the wagon trains and most especially the railroads. The progression of the railroad could have not transpired as quickly or as smoothly if not for the transcontinental telegraph line, which was one of the newest strategies and methods used in construction of the transcontinental railway.

During the railroad construction, telegraph lines were strung ahead, in conjunction with the projected path. The telegraph wire eliminated time-consuming trips back and forth between foremen’s along the developing path, enabling the progress to move faster. In addition, on the working track already completed, the telegraph lines served the railroad by decreasing accidents, collisions and derailments.

As the movement of the Union Pacific’s progression along the proposed path, tent cities were temporary assemble as base camps. Although the laborers lived in train cars brackets, there were camp cohorts that followed – prostitutes, saloon owners, church clergy men and their assembly, hunters, butchers, drifters. On July fourth, 1867, such a tent city was built by the name of Cheyenne City, the site selected by Grenville Dodge.

Five years later, Cheyenne City was a rough lawless town, with an abundant of drinking, gambling and whoring in the nearly forty saloons, billiard halls, gambling and dance halls. Cheyenne City population was varied at any given time with accommodations for the most part were tents, sod houses, clapboard shanties and dugouts. The town was erected negligently and swiftly without regard for proper placement of structures and street planning. Neither were the buildings of sturdy and sound constructed, and most of the stores were false fronted, low flat roofed wooden structures.

Cheyenne was an exhilarating new town with a variety of things to see and discover with a contradictory of cultures, yet the upper class would voice a different outlook of Cheyenne City. Always busy, beside the ordinary townsfolk going about their daily business, there was numerous traveling persons disembarking from the trains or stagecoach, some pioneers nomadically in canvas covered conestoga wagons stopping to buy supplies in one of the many mercantiles, or people entering Cheyenne by horse or buggy. At present, Cheyenne City boasted a station depot, several railroad owned warehouses, cattle yards, stone machine shops and locomotive houses, a masonic hall, legislative hall, two daily newspapers – Evening Leader and Daily Argus –, a post office, two churches, three banks, numerous mercantiles, a saddler, an armory and numerous liveries. Additionally, Cheyenne was proud to have such paramount establishments such as, the Union Pacific Hotel, Rollins House Hotel, The Rocky Mountain Outfitting House, Isaac Herman’s Staples and Fancy Dry Goods Store, Pike and Peak jewelry manufactory, and Pike Peak Express Stage office. All made it a grand frontier metropolis.

As for Shaylee, she would be happier to anywhere other than Cheyenne or any other town of the like, yet, the incessantly of populated towns was her way of employment – so to speak. Without the scores of establishments in countless towns and the railroad thoroughfare, they would not have had such an elite clientele, which aided in supporting her families’ financial status.

For over a year, they have been slowly moving west, in hopes to reach her Aunt’s homestead in California. Their slow diligent progress has seen them in several towns and cities since leaving New York City thirteen months ago. They fled to Baltimore, then to Lancaster, on to Cincinnati and to Saint Louis by train in the first eight months. Arriving in Saint Louis by late November, they found a clean spacious two bedroom flat near the river and chose to winter in the vastly rich and populated city until March. Shaylee could have stayed in St. Louis if she were allowed; the city had a quaint southern appeal, when she wasn’t working with Heath, she walked through the city enjoying the sights and smells of the south. She even made a few friends, but come March they were moving again.

Shaylee and her family took a cabin on board a riverboat, ironically named Gold Dust, from St. Louis to Omaha, Nebraska. To Heath traveling by boat was pure genius, when the paddle streamer stopped to unload or load cargo in the many towns and cities along the Missouri River they too replenished their accounts.

Since her family downfall, Shaylee had wished God would grant her an ordinary life – a permanent home, a husband and children. She felt despondent living an existence she neither requested nor sought. Shaylee yearned for a good wholesome existence; a stable nice home, pretty dresses, adequate food and love … if not love, at least the nearest possibility to respect.

She wanted to be normal.

How her life that had progressed over the last year, was becoming difficult to bear. Her hopelessness was threatening to suffocate her more each day. Normally, she had an unlimited amount of unspent energy, quick to begin the day without complaint, to tackle anything to the best of her ability, only recently she felt drained. The constant danger, moving from town to town into one decrepit hovel after another, was becoming excessively taxing.

With a sigh of regret, she decided she must get her mind to work; it was useless to dwell on her own misery, because her dreams would never come true. Good people were allowed their aspiration granted, they had happiness and love even acceptance; Shaylee was not a good person, she was lower than dirt, a street rat.

Tomorrow they planned to move on to Brigham City, Heath talked about Salt Lake City, that even though it was slightly out of their designated path the pickings were better in larger metropolises. Shaylee disagreed with her brother; the quicker they reached California, the quicker Shaylee would be free of the vow in which she was burdened.

Shaking clear the haziness of her awareness, Shaylee reminded herself to remain focused. Hearing the whistle blow Shaylee again glanced left to the advancing train. Surveying the depot across the tracks from her position where she leaned nonchalantly against an unworkable caboose, Shaylee observe each person waiting patiently on the platform of the station. There was a salesman sitting on the small bench against the wall of the station house sipping on a flasket most likely containing some kind of spirits. The salesman selfishly he had placed his baggage on the bench beside him, so as one else could have the pleasure of sitting beside him. Shaylee was sure it would have been nice for the tired and frustrated mother whom fought to control her four children to have the opportunity to use the bench. Standing at the edge of the platform was an obese woman, wearing the biggest most hideously flamboyant hat Shaylee had even seen. The fat woman stood with her hands clasped, eagerly awaited the approaching train. The punctual station conductor paced the doorway of the depot, looking at his timepiece every few second with a look of disapproval. A blonde haired whore outfitted in a red dress, her breasted displayed abhorrently, looked pleased by the attention she attracted. There was a young husband and wife standing hand in hand and a sandy-haired cowboy holding his saddle on his hip and saddlebags over his shoulder.

It wasn’t a busy morning at the depot, not every day could they have profitable payouts, however, it may improve once the train arrived. Catching the eye of her brother, Heath, he was waiting for the same as she – a profitable payout.

Although Shaylee and Heath were twins, they looked nothing alike; neither did they share the same opinions, which rewarded Shaylee with a cuff or two to the head for her objections. Shaylee favored their sire with jet-black wavy hair and emerald green eyes. Heath favored their mother with rich sable colored hair and dark chocolate brown eyes. Ignoring her brother, Shaylee returned her attention to finding a profitable score.

From the direction of the hotel Shaylee saw an elegant looking couple step from beneath the hotel’s porch. As they moved towards the depot, Shaylee was both surprised and intrigued, never in all her travels had she seen such a charming and indigenous couple. The stunning woman had the look of confidence, which radiated from her person. Dressed in a lovely olive green gown, her dark brown hair arranged stylishly swept up off her neck. She walked with her head held high and with intention, magnificently wearing her slight Indian heritage for all to see and appeared to enjoy the stares of condemnation, almost as if she was absorbing the energy from their disapproving attention.

Shaylee gazed down at herself wearing her brother’s hand-me-downs; she was definitely not elegant or beautiful. Her gray trousers, stuffed into her high dilapidated leather boots, were so snug and worn that she feared the fabric would rip by mere movement. The loose brown tunic style shirt hung below her buttocks hiding her feminine curves was faded and tattered. Her eyes were too big, her nose was too pert, her lips were too full and her long hair hung in a wild array of curls that refused to comply with direction. The big floppy hat she wore helped keep her hair in place, it also helped disguise her identity and that she was female, which had helped her more than once in the past ten years.

Moving her intentional gaze from the woman to her companion Shaylee forgot to breath, her heart beat faster and for an instant she felt as if she was going to faint.

He was extraordinarily.

Yet he was somehow familiar, Shaylee was sure they had never met; she would have remembered such an extraordinary man, though peculiarly her heart knew this man.

Caught in a powerful enthrallment Shaylee had an overwhelming need to go to him and slip into the haven of his arms, to feel his warm hardness wrap around her, to breath in his rich clean scent. How she knew his scent, his hardness, or him, Shaylee could not comprehend, but that she did.

The couple stopped at the foot of the platform, watching the train’s approach, which allowed Shaylee to inspect the glorious man. He was not but twenty feet from where she stood, and her keen eyes saw all. It was unlike Shaylee to stare, but stare she did. Shaylee felt contentment by watching him.

He was younger than the woman, possibly in his mid-twenties. However, unlike the woman, his native heritage was strongly apparent. His hair black as pitch and long, it reaching past the middle of his back and tied back in a tail at the nape of his bronze neck. He was tall, taller than most, well over six feet, with eyes that from a distance looked bottomless, alert and unfriendly. Even from afar, Shaylee could see his long lashes made his eyes appear fuller, softer, yet there was nothing soft about this man. He reeked of sexuality and of an untamed spirit that hovered just beneath the surface, struggling to escape.

To touch such a man and to be touched in return would be heavenly. She realized with unexpected certainty that she felt lust for this man. Her breasts felt heavy, sensitive against the bindings beneath her shirt, so that her nipples hardened and ache to be touch by this man. In the apex of her legs, she felt a shocking wetness and a throbbing that stunned her. In astonishment, Shaylee slipped from the steel track on which she had been balancing. Without taking her eyes from the man, Shaylee gripped the caboose to save from falling. Shaylee absorbed and mesmerized him. If there was a man who was perfect, it was this man.

Moving her gaze from his interestingly stunning face down to his wide muscular shoulders, his deep broad chest and to a flat stomach encased in a trailered black jacket with a thin black tie over a brilliant white linen shirt. Her riveted green eyes stopped on his groin, her face reddened at what she pictured lay beneath such expensive linen; she licked her lips with such thrillingly anticipating hunger.

Shaylee expressed a deep sigh of what would never be.

Completing her appraisal on his groin her eyes traveled down his long equally muscular legs encased in tan colored trousers, finally resting on his shiny black boots. One look however was not enough, Shaylee thought wickedly; therefore, with another inspection her green eyes slowly traveled back up his perfection.

Shaylee was not naïve to men’s anatomy and its functions; she had seen many men without clothes and of couples mating in alleys or taverns, however upon seeing the outline of his hardened shaft outlined against the fabric of his snug trousers, immediately her huge green globes swept up to his questioning raven gaze.

He watched her. He had been watching her throughout her appraisal of his beautiful form and he was aroused, Shaylee thought with astonishment.

How could she – an ugly unlawful street urchin arouse a man’s lust?

Unable to break eye contact as if some unknown force held her gaze locked with his, Shaylee stared into his great depths. Gone was everything around them, they were alone; the expansion of their worlds was no long between them. His dark eyes pulled at her. For an eternity, they started at each other. She was lost, for the first time in her life all her dismal thoughts left her, save for one man.

About to step towards the man, Shaylee cried out when suddenly a large dark object swept him from her gaze, blocking her view of the only man that had the ability to cause her heart to constrict, her breathing quicken and her head to swim in escalated delight.

It slowly came to her comprehension and hearing that the train had arrived and was the object that had blocked her view. Chastising herself for her own carelessness, Shaylee stepped backwards around the caboose, out of sight. Losing direction – Shaylee realized she had become completely unaware of her surroundings, which in her profession was dangerous. She could not understand what had just happened, leaning against the caboose, trying to get her bearings. How did the train arrive without her knowledge? The noise alone should have alerted her of its arrival.

Shaylee jumped into action. Running across the tracks, she boarded the newly arrived train with the intent of it being a quick shortcut. Unexpectedly a freckled faced man, who wore the uniform of a Union Pacific baggage handler, imprisoned her arm.

Vociferously – as if he wanted everyone to see his brave and honorable conduct – he yelled, Boy, you aren’t permitted to board this car. You’re kind aren’t allowed here on a first class car.

Shaylee, playing her part to perfection, relied, Just passin’ through I was mister. I ain’t wantin’ to soil ya fancy car none mister. Just my pa’s wantin’ for me and I ain’t wantin’ a lickin’ none, mister please.

Shaylee tried to pry his hand from her arm, yet his clammy grip was surprisingly strong. Yet if she didn’t get loose her proclamation with be true, but it won’t be a father that does the hitting but her brother.

Are you trying to stowaway boy? The baggage boy asked.

Course I ain’t mister, I was just passing through, honest I was. I live in this here town, mister. I ain’t thinkin’ no wrong, promise I ain’t mister. Let me go I ain’t wantin’ my Pa’s to give me a lickin’. Please. Shaylee whined.

A man behind her spoke up. Lawrence let the boy go. He is doing no wrong just using the train as a shortcut. Besides if you keep him on the train further, the kid will be force to ride on your fine train, without the coin of the fare I might add.

The baggage handler looked as if he had bitten into a sour lemon, Ah yes, Doctor Barrington I presume you are correct. Looking at Shaylee, he said sternly. Boy you aren’t allowed to board the train, even if you use it for a shortcut you will be charged, understand, boy?

Yeah, I understand, can I go now? Shaylee pleaded.

Letting go of her arm, he nodded, Go with you –

Shaylee jumped from the train before the baggage handler could change his mind. Disgusted with herself, the baggage handler was now lighter by both his wallet and his watch.

Moving the through the now busy depot, to the back of the platform Shaylee surveyed her surroundings. She trying to get her mind back on her work; however, it was hard to erase the image of the unknown man from her mind, never before had someone affected her in such an overwhelming way.

Seeing Heath moving on his target, Shaylee knew she must do the same or receive a beating for her lack of profits. Although she processed the handler’s wallet and watch, it was not enough, for one day’s work.

Her brother pursued a ridicules looking gentleman wearing red trousers, a gold waistcoat and a green jacket, with a very large stomach and bum, oddly the strange man’s neck was preposterously long. Amusingly Shaylee could not help but think that the man resembled the peacock that she had once seen at the New York City Menagerie in Central Park.

Heath appeared to be having the same opinion because he couldn’t keep a straight face. Only Heath could laugh when picking someone’s pocket clean. Heath often proclaimed himself gifted in his work; he was the only person she knew who could talk to an individual while robbing him blind. He loved the work. Even more, he loved the danger and excitement.

Shaylee worried about Heath, he frequented the gaming halls and saloons all too much, and spending their much needed money. Almost nightly, he came home drunk. Several times Shaylee had to retrieve him from a whore’s bed or from a drinking establishment because he had caused trouble or was in a fight. Angrily she and Heath fought about the nightly excursions that he was spending too much of their money on his selfish entertainment. The only way they had been able to save any money was by Sarah whom managed all their funds and gladly Heath would never go to Sarah for additional coin to aid his drinking habit.

Losing sight of Heath as he went after his score, Shaylee began to look for her own target. Finding the right one was the key, then moving slow while picking the pocket with precision, stealth and speed. Seeing the handsome young doctor, that helped her with the baggage handler, getting off the train with a well-endowed older woman on one arm and a young reddish-blonde haired woman on his another arm. He was fully engrossed with both women he wouldn’t know differently if she picked his wallet.

He was well groomed, not a blonde hair out of place or a wrinkle in his expensive suit of his tall attractive frame. He most definitely would have many women’s attention, but unfortunately, for him, he now had Shaylee’s.

She had found her target.

CHAPTER TWO

Wolf hated cities, the smell of humanity, the fifth and crowds. He preferred the wide-open terrain, to this civilization. Wolf only agreed to leave his haven, to accompany his mother while she met his brother’s train.

Thomas for the last seven years had been attending medical school abroad and in Boston. Today, Tom was to return home on the morning train. Accompanying him was his father’s sister, Felicity. Wolf could not possibility say he was pleased about Tom’s companion; he did not practically care to meet new people, regardless if they were family.

Escorting his mother the short distance to the depot, he glanced down at her petite frame. Monica showed none of her nervousness upon her beautiful features, yet he knew differently. When they received the letter from Tom, informing them that he would be returning home with Felicity, both Monica and Wolf dreaded the news. William of course was ecstatic to see his older sister again.

Wolf’s experience with the snobbish upper class had never been good. Their snobbish beliefs were that if anyone were different or lower in social class, they were beneath them. He certainly hoped Aunty Felicity would be indifferent to his mother heritage or he personally would send the woman back from where she came.

Regardless of Tom’s companion, Wolf was looking forward to his brother’s arrival. Thomas was always, fun loving, happy and carefree. Destined to be a doctor even at a young age, Tom would bring home anything sick or injured, from birds, snakes, rabbits or orphaned wolf cubs. Their house had been a regular hospital for sick animals.

The train is coming Mother, Wolf stated, trying to appear cheerful although he failed miserably.

Do I look alright, son?

You look beautiful Mother. You need not worry. Wolf whispered in Sioux.

Monica Barrington was a proud woman, born to proud people, the Hunkpapa Lakhota Sioux. She met Lord William Fredrick Barrington – an estranged son of an English earl, when he arrived from England to Wyoming Territory with a dream to build himself a cattle ranch.

Monica or Little Flower, as known then, was daughter to her half-Indian mother and her full-blooded Lakhota father. After a yearlong courtship, William gained the trust of the tribe and her parents, he asked for Little Flower’s hand in marriage. By Lakhota custom a warrior who wished to take a wife, would give the father or head male of his intended wife’s family a bride’s price. William aware of the custom gave Little Flower’s father, Blue Cloud, one hundred horses and fifty head of cattle. No father could say no to such a generous bride price, but Blue Cloud made William suffer for two weeks until he agreed to give his only daughter to him. Never had Blue Cloud wanted William for his only child, however, that his daughter loved the wasicu so much he was effortless to deny his daughter her happiness.

Their twenty-seven years of marriage, was not without consequence. Initially there was much Monica needed to learn about being a white man’s wife and living in a house, not a tipi. People did not approve of an Indian squaw marrying a white man, especially of noble birth. Nevertheless, in time, the outrage and gossip settle down and people came to see Monica as the kind loving woman she was. Throughout their marriage, they were blessed with three children Bronson, Alora and Thomas. Subsequently they have three grandchildren, Valina, Elizabeth and Chance.

Last year when William Barrington suffered a stroke Monica was devastated. William may yet have countless more years yet to live; however, he will never again work on the ranch that he built with his bare hands. Because of his failing health, William reluctantly gave over control of the ranch to Wolf and their foreman, Rob, yet stubbornly he still issued orders to how he wished his ranch to be run, yet his orders were not always obeyed.

There is no love lost between Wolf and his father. Wolf was too much like his Indian ancestors for William’s preference. Numerous times, father and son have fought over his believes and views, Wolf knew his father only tolerated him because he was unable to run the ranch and Wolf knew if Tom could do a better job William would readily hand over the reins to his younger brother. Neither would Wolf be the slightest bit offended.

By William’s ever-influential objection in his adolescence, at age twelve Wolf permanently went to live with the Hunkpapa people in the tipi of his grandfather, Blue Cloud and Grandmother, Sage Woman.

Unlike William, Blue Cloud took Wolf under his wing and was proud of him. His grandfather was a gruff old warrior, he begrudged the white invasion and all that was white, even though his beloved wife was half-wasicu and his son-in-law was wasicu.

Blue Cloud guided Wolf into manhood and taught Wolf all the ways of a Lakhota warrior, hence molding him into a great warrior. He received his first bow and arrow at the age of six and his first rifle at ten summers. Proudly at thirteen summers, he ventured far from the Lakhota village to seek his vision. For Blue Cloud it was a grand day. After four days, Little Cub returned after Wakhán Thánka granted him a vision and a new name – Wandering Wolf. Henceforth Wolf stopped using his Christian name, Bronson Jackson Barrington, and adopted the name Wakhán Thánka gave him.

Wolf often returned to the ranch to visit his mother. Consequently, it was always the same pattern, pleasant for a few days they were almost happy until William started speaking about Wolf’s lack of formal education or marrying a girl from the fort or any such nonsense, that any other normal white boy would do. Wolf was not a wasicu he was Lakhota, thus, father and son would have another intense argument, and Wolf would leave. However, since his father’s stroke Wolf honored the request of his mother, to remain at the ranch.

Wolf observantly watched the white-eyes at the train depot. Uncomfortable when amongst the wasicu and this day was no different; however, there was an undercurrent of overwhelmingly irregularity, though the feeling was bizarrely pleasant.

Wolf analyzed the people around him, his dark eyes vigilantly searched. The only person that observed his and Monica’s approach to the platform was a man sitting beside the station house, drinking from a flask. Continuing his search of his surroundings, Wolf's daze settled on skinny boy standing across the tracks beside an idle railcar.

The boy was barely visible from where he was standing in the shadows and Wolf could not see his face, yet it was the kid, he was positive, who intentionally gawked at him. He was accustomed to people’s stares, yet the boy was staring at him. Forgoing with discretion Wolf examined the boy. Disturbingly, Wolf felt the urge to cover himself.

When the warm mild breeze blew across the prairie, it briefly flattened the boy’s oversized shirt against his small frame. Astonishingly Wolf realized the boy was a girl. Moreover, the girl was ogled him with great hunger. She was not just staring, but inspecting, memorizing, devouring every inch of him.

She suddenly slide forward out of the shadows, she would have fallen if she had not have reached a hand to the train car. Her hat slid back, enough for Wolf to see more of her features. Her completion was tanned, darker than Wolf had ever seen a white woman look. She wore a battered over-sized hat, which obscured much of his view from seeing her features. Her clothing was worn, dirty, ragged, and ugly. Her enormous brown tunic like shirt hung below her waist, her gray trousers were ragged with wholes, although they defined her muscular thighs and her boots were scuffed. Arrogantly Wolf thought the girl was particularly hideous.

Suddenly the wind blew again, stronger this time, it blew the brim of her hat up giving him a clear view of her startling features. She was beautiful. Her oval face was prefect; her eyes large and lovely, bright with intense desire, her cheekbones were high but soft in severity, a perfectly formed nose and a full mouth that begged to be kissed. The warm breeze granted Wolf another fleeting glimpse, flattening her clothing to her slender frame. The view almost knocked Wolf off his feet; she had curves that could stop a buffalo stampede.

Already she had his undivided attention yet when she slid her heated gaze down his chest, continuing to his stomach, then stopped at his groin; Wolf was in agony. Unbelievably she licked her lips, as if she could taste him. Thereafter, her lengthy inspection of his groin, she traveled down his legs to settle on his uncomfortable hard-soled boots. Wolf was on fire; it was the most exotically arousing experience he had ever encountered.

White woman did not pay him any mind; they dismissed him as the Indian and savage he was. Then way did this grubby girl dressed in boys clothing cause a reaction in him that made his senses react in such a peculiar foreign manner. Wolf did not know how to act in defense.

Barely able to control himself with her first tour down his body, she went for an encore. Her gaze traveling up until she stopped on his achingly hard manhood, immediately in her surprised, she gasped and her gaze sped to his face.

Their eyes collided. Time stopped, all else faded away – the crowded depot, the train, everything floated away. The impact of their exchange astounded him.

Preparing to move towards her, to toss the ugly hat aside and completely view her face. To take her within his arms and kiss her breathless – unexpectedly the train stole her from his view. Its gross bulky manifestation rolled to a stop in front of the platform. Strange how he was not even aware of the noisy trains arrival. Wolf felt confused and lethargic unlike himself.

What just had happened?

How could a ragged street urchin cause him to lose his perception on reality?

For a far distance, he heard his mother calling to him, "Wolf? Sumanitu Take! Monica cried while waving a hand in his face, What were you looking at?"

Nothing, was all Wolf could utter.

The train is here, do you wish to meet your brother, or do you want to stand here looking into space all day? She stated, as she pulled him towards the platform.

~ ~ ~

SHAYLEE moved closer to the handsome doctor and his lady friends. So engrossed, none were aware of her approach even when Shaylee lifted the doctor’s wallet he was unawares.

No one was the wiser of the theft, until Shaylee turned to make her escape; she came face to face with the very same man she had been memorized across the track, not minutes before. Regardless that she had just robbed someone, Shaylee stupidly froze, dumbstruck by his perfection. Precariously, Shaylee mindlessly stared up into his bottomless ebony eyes. He was so incredibly dark and dangerously handsome; if possible, he was even more beautiful at close proximity, which caused her heart to leap within her chest. Almost immediately, she gained her bearings and steeled her senses.

His heated gaze shifted to the man whom she had robbed and then back at Shaylee with such intense anger on his gorgeous face that Shaylee quaked with fear.

With an ache of regret so painful, she sighed, he knew what she had done and what she was; it was there written on his chiseled face – disbelief, shame, disappointment, anger. Why would she care having only shared one look with him? He was nothing to her but a brief respite, still the realization that he had seen her, hurt.

Shaylee backed slowly away from his disturbing presence in a flash of movement he seized her wrist. She was painfully, imprisoned within his powerful grip. Shaylee almost sighed from the delightful feelings of his potently warm fingers upon her flesh.

Return my brothers wallet! he growled.

His brother! Oh great, she knew how to pick them.

The first man in all her twenty years she had found attractive and she had to have unknowingly picked his brother as her score.

Not about to stay around for him to call the law, or a lynch mob, this was Cheyenne City’s typical type of justice. Impulsively, Shaylee kicked him in the shin with all the force she could muster. With a groan of pain, he loosened his hold on her arm enough that she was able to gain freedom from his iron grip. Ducking around him, she fled. Dodging around people, jumping over luggage, Shaylee leaped from the platform and landed firmly on both feet making her escape. She ran for all she was worth.

There was an open expansion of field separating the depot with the main town; Shaylee’s only hope was to get to the protection of the alleyways, knowing from her pervious experiences that there was safety in numbers. She was an easy target out in open space.

She flew by the first row of buildings along the street and ducked into the first alley, all most knocking over a woman and her child as she ran. The people around her yelled in outrage and from the shouts and footsteps that she heard behind her, she knew she had not succeeded in eluding him. Quickly glancing behind her, Shaylee was dismayed to see two men chasing her – the beautiful dark stranger and her score.

Increasing her stride, she sped through the busy streets, up alleyways, over fences, through yards and around buildings. Try as she did she could not get rid of them. The man resembled a bloodhound out for a quick meal. Shaylee knew she was agile and sure-footed, yet she could not lose him; each time she managed to look behind her, he was closer.

Out of breath with an agonizing pain in her side, Shaylee was almost ready to give-up when she saw Heath waiting for her at their appointed place in front of Luke Murrin’s Whole Liquor House. Shaylee leapt head long into a crowd of people, hoping that it would slow her pursuers. Glancing back to see if he was still there, she saw two men battling the crowd – one dark and one fair.

Gasping for air, at a run Shaylee pulled Heath into an alley and behind some crates, she fell on to the ground, exhausted.

Heath exclaimed, What the hell are ya running for Shay?

No time – they – caught – me, Shaylee said with difficulty, feeling like she was going to be sick. They’re after me. Two men – out there.

Someone saw you? Ya stupid bitch! Heath yelled gripping her arms.

I know what I have got myself into, Heath; you don’t have to preach, about all the rules … like a nagging wife. Shaylee knew now wasn’t the time to piss off Heath but she was madder than a whoremonger being cut out of his nights take.

Squeezing her arms, Heath sneered into her face. I don’t preach. Shit Shay ain’t I taught you nothing. Ya don’t get caught, especially in this lynch happy damned town.

Shaylee knew there was not much time, looking to the street beyond, she could see the brothers. Heath’s grip was becoming unbearable, nonetheless Shaylee would never cry out. Like always when Heath was angered, she took his abuse in quiet.

Christ them church goin’ hypocrites they’ll string ya up faster than ya can spit. Those damned bible pushers strung up two fellas just yesterday. They ain’t going to give a gods-damn if you’re a woman. Heath shook her and tightened his grip. Damn you’ve pissed me off this time, Shay. Anyway, they ain’t going to identify you, because they ain’t seen you’re face, right Shay.

Thinking back to her earlier encounter with the handsome man, Shaylee did not reply, although her facial expression told Heath differently.

They saw you – You stupid, dumb bitch, ya let them see your face.

Shaylee did not see his fist coming until she was lying face down in the dirt. She knew now was not the time to retaliate against Heath’s abuse, especially with the two men standing not twenty feet from their hiding place.

Dammit Shaylee, haven’t I taught you nothing?

Save it Heath, what’s done is done, Shaylee barked as she sat up and wiped the blood from her mouth with the back of her hand.

If only ya could be more a part of this family than always being moody and dreaming about shit that ain’t going to come your way. Who would want you? You’re a thief, the lowest of all humanity.

You really can be an unfeeling bastard sometimes. Shaylee sneered at her brother.

Someone’s got to keep you in line. Fuck, if ya hadn’t been daydreaming before the train got here, ya wouldn’t have had to cut through the train. Your stupidity caused all this to happen. Heath took a fist full of her hair and painfully drew her closer. Yeah, I saw ya eyeing the breed. I miss nothing Shay, not a damned thing. An injun’ breed dressed in fancy clothes, is a fucking injun’ all the same. You were almost drooling over the red-skinned fucker! Jesus you’re getting desperate.

I was only looking; I wasn’t hurdling myself at him and trying to fuck him! Shaylee nearly yelled.

Yeah and if you ever did, I’d kill him and you. Heath whispered. This is what we’ll do. We’ll stay low for a couple of days until the heats off; we’ll take the stagecoach to Laramie or Rawlins instead of taking the train to Brigham City tomorrow.

Shaylee pulled away from him, yet he held on to her hair. Fine, just take the wallet and go. I will draw them away from you and met you at home later. Shaylee placed the wallet against his chest, thankfully he release his hold on her to greedily grab up the fat wallet, although the pain of his grip still hurt and she knew from past times she had angered him that they will be bruises. Throwing the baggage handlers wallet and watch at him too, Shaylee glanced into the street. She could see neither brother, but Shaylee knew they were still nearby.

Damn but you scored big, Shay. Heath exclaimed. There not much in the other one, but the watch will bring a good twenty dollars. Heath removed the money from the wallets threw them into empty crate and stuffed the money into his pocket. That Heath was proud of her for stealing a large score from an unsuspected victim left her with a sour taste in her mouth, yet she knew such a statement was natural for him as breathing.

Promise me Heath that you will give it all the money to Sarah. If I don’t get away from –

You’ll get away; I ain’t having you talk like they have already caught ya.

Shaylee knew she was in trouble; unfathomable ebony eyes had informed of her pending fate, he would never rest until she was imprisoned or worse. Hanging would not be that bad, one initial twinge of pain and it would be the end. Then I would finally be free, Shaylee thought.

Regardless, she would take the blame for her own actions, and would never involve her family. She would make sure of it. Her mother – was a bitch to say the least, but she did not need to know that thievery had kept her family financially stable for more than ten years. If she could convince Heath to get them away with the money, then her family would be safe and she would be free of them.

Just say I don’t, you much all get on the next train –

We ain’t leaving you. We’re family. We ain’t going to be split up for no one, Heath spat.

Heath would you listen to reason I need to know that you will care for Mother and Sarah. I haven’t risked everything for you to throw that money away in a saloon or gaming table. She touched her brother on the arm. Take the money to Sarah and I warn if you gamble or whore any of this money away Heath I’ll kill you! I promise you I will.

I ain’t that much of a bastard ya fucking bitch. Heath grasped a hand full of her hair.

Yeah, right, you’re too damned greedy not to take –

This time she saw his fist coming, but with Heath fisting her hair, she was unable to dodge the blow. Her lip split under the force of his fist connecting with her jaw, her head swam with dizziness and pain.

Keep pissing me off Shay and you’ll not need to worry about those two men.

And you really think I care. Shaylee sneered, her mouth red with her own blood. I’m either at their mercy or yours. I wonder which of the two would be merciless.

She gasped in pain when Heath gripped her left arm. Those sons of bitches ain’t taking you to the law.

If they do, at least you have the money and can get Mother to California. Think about mother, she needs you. She doesn’t give a damn about me but she needs you. Plus, with me gone she’ll forget about him.

Ignoring Shaylee’s mention of him, Heath asked, I won’t let you face this alone, Shay.

It’s my doing. Heath dammit just take the money to Sarah and leave. Breaking away from her twin brother, Shaylee declared, I couldn’t tolerate the thought of you, Sarah and mother bearing the blame of my failure.

Okay, I’ll get Ma and Sarah on the next train, but I ain’t leaving Cheyenne until your with me, Heath somewhat agreed.

It was probably the nearest of a promise she was going to get from him and time was running out. That Heath would get Sarah and her mother safely away Shaylee did know, what he would do thereafter scared her. Fine just go, we can’t be seen together.

Stay low, Shay. See you at home. Strangely, Shaylee felt relieved when Heath turned the corner of the alley and was out of sight. Somehow, she knew her life would forever be the same.

Shaylee crouched behind the crates mere feet from where the brothers stood. She had hoped they would have given up their search, but like a bloodhound, he was still on the hunt. Even though her freedom was still in great jeopardy, Shaylee could not stop admiring him. From their run through Cheyenne, he had lost his black tie and his white shirt unbuttoned exposing his bronze manly throat and hairless chest. His long dark hair was now free from the tie that had bound his hair. He looked wildly dangerous, yet so amazingly gorgeous that her breathe quickened.

Shaylee sighed in regret at what could never be. If only life had turned out differently for Shaylee, if only she was not a pickpocket and thief, if she could right the wrongs she had done. Nevertheless, life had its way of changing ones goals, she thought sadly.

Shaylee left her hiding place behind the crates, taking the opportunity when the two men began walking away, in the opposite direction. However, she ran only ten or so feet before he yelled at her to stop.

Immediately she increased her stride. Shaylee ran for her very existence, for her freedom, for her sanity. Her body was tried, her legs felt like rubber, yet she still ran. The rest had not helped her any, only made her feel more fatigued. Her jaw hurt and her lower lip bleed, she could taste her own blood. Her arms ached where he had gripped her. It was possible that Heath was her downfall.

He was close, so very close and he was getting closer. She did not know how much longer she could run, her lungs were burning and she felt weak, lightheaded – everything hurt.

Turning into an alley, hoping to out maneuver him, she knocked over boxes as she ran. At the end of the alley was a nine foot fence, easy for her to scale, though when Shaylee looked behind her, she gasped and stumbled when she saw he was only a few steps away. Leaping up the side of the fence, Shaylee cried out when he caught her around the waist in midair.

She landed on her stomach the wind expelled from her depleted lungs and her head collided with the hard ground. Shaylee felt pain beyond her endurance. She could not breathe, it took all the strength she possessed to stay alert.

An excruciating heavy weight lifted from her back enabling Shaylee to fill her aching lungs. Feeling a hand on her shoulder, he rolled her over on her back. A groan escaped from deep within her chest as she tried to rise from the ground.

He was the last thing she saw, as she sank into unconsciousness.

CHAPTER THREE

Wolf would never have noticed the crime if he had not been looking for the flirtatious witch in the first place. Like an apparition she appeared, small and harmless standing in front of him looking so innocent. Then dream turn to a nightmare, Wolf was plummeted from a surreal fantasy into reality as he watched her reach unbeknownst into his brother’s pocket with the ease of a professional. Amazingly, she extracted his wallet with none the wiser.