Excerpt of A Bride's Flight From Virginia City, Montana by Murray Pura

When it happened it happened so quickly Zeph barely had time to take it in.

That night they had turned their seats into beds and pulled another bed open above their heads. Cody had taken that one, Cheyenne was with Charlotte, Zeph slept on the outside close to the aisle. They had not set up the partition people often used for privacy because Zeph wanted to hear and see everything that was going on.

Something made him stir. He glanced out a window and saw a sign that said ALKALI roll past. Light was beginning to flood the east and he wondered about a breakfast stop and why they hadn't pulled into the small town. Then he remembered the names Alkali, O'Fallons and Maxwell. He sat up, fully awake, and looked for the man in black. Too many partitions were in the way. For all he knew the man had changed seats to get even closer to them.

"Charlotte!" he whispered urgently.

"Mmm," she mumbled.

"Charlotte! Wake up! We're here!"

"Where?"

The car shook and squealed and slammed to a stop. People were thrown out of their beds and into the aisle. Partitions collapsed. A woman screamed and several men began to shout for the conductor.

Charlotte was awake now, her hair in disarray, looking, Zeph could not help but notice, warm and childlike and wonderful, but when someone yelled, "There's men on horseback in masks, the train's being robbed," he thrust her sheepskin jacket at her and said, "Get up and get the kids to the baggage car."

Shots were fired outside the window. Cody came sprawling out of his bed above them. Zeph put Cody's jacket over the boy's thin shoulders: "Go with your mother and sister to the baggage car behind us. It's two cars further on. You lead the way. Go now."

"No!" Cody pushed away from Zeph with all the strength a burst of anger can give a 12 year old boy. "They killed my mother. They killed my father. I am going to fight."

"Cody, you have to get to the baggage car."

"I am not hiding anymore and I am not running. I will face them."

Zeph saw the blaze in the boy's eyes. He meant it. But Zeph didn't have time to argue this through. There were two more gunshots. He gripped Cody's shoulders.

"Who is going to protect Miss Spence? Who is going to protect Cheyenne? If they are in the baggage car and we are both here who will save them if the gang breaks into their car first?"

The boy hesitated.

"Take them to safety," Zeph urged. "Fight for them."

"All right," Cody said.

Charlotte was on her feet, holding a sleepy Cheyenne by the hand, her face and eyes a strange mixture of fear, anger and defiance. "I am not happy about leaving you," she said to Zeph.

"I'll be okay."

She looked at him in the half-light as the sun began to slip over the rim of the prairie. As persons cried and shrieked all around them, she took in his eyes and face, she didn't want to forget anything about him. What if — ? But then she refused to allow herself to finish the thought. No what ifs. She would see him again. Oh Lord, please protect him, she whispered.

Cody seized her hand and led her and Cheyenne to the door. Then he turned.

"Is the baggage door open?" Cody asked.

"Yes," Zeph said. There was another gunshot. "I got a steward to open it for me last night after you'd all fallen asleep. Then I jimmied it so he couldn't lock it back up again. I saw some saddle blankets in there. Maybe get under a bunch of them. Hurry now."

"Z!"

Charlotte's eyes were like twin fires in the dawn light coming through the windows. "There's no man like you, mister. No man ever."

And she was gone.

Zeph spun around and looked for the man in black. He was sitting in the same seat, cool as ice, while pandemonium reigned left and right of him. The pretty young woman, her face flushed, suddenly asked, "What do we do, where do we go?"

"Just sit tight," Zeph heard the man say in a deep voice, "and give them your diamonds and pearls and they won't take anything more."

Zeph clenched his fists. Sure, easy for him to say, it was his buddies that were going to board the train and shove their gun barrels into innocent people's faces. Maybe I should try and take him from behind. He took a few steps forward and then looked out the windows on both sides of the train. Men with flour sacks and pillowcases for masks were riding up and down the line. There were four or five of them and every few moments another one of them would fire into the air with a pistol or rifle.

Some children had begun crying. He saw the family that was bound for Florida huddled in tears at the front of the car. Zeph looked in vain on both sides of the railway for any sign of troopers from Fort Laramie. It looked like they were going to have to bluff their way out of this one. Lord, the baggage car trick has to work, help us.

A tall man rode up to their car and swung down from the saddle. He wore a long white duster that was covered in dirt and grime. The door at the front of the car banged open. The woman who couldn't make up her mind between Liverpool and Sacramento shrieked. The outlaw had a flour sack with two ragged holes cut for his eyes and a third for his mouth. A short-barreled pistol was in his left hand. In a voice like stones dropping in a bucket he said, "I'm lookin' for a man goes by the name Zephaniah Parker. Any of you folks know if he's in this car?"