“Then shut up. We’ll keep an eye on ’em and bide our time. Ain’t gonna be hard to find ’em, since they’re all stayin’ at that fancy hotel across the square on account of being the big heroes of Texas. I’ll get a wire to Pa in Bristow. You go tell the other hands to be ready and to keep quiet. I don’t want none of ’em getting too drunk and drawing attention to us while we’re here in town. We’ll wait to hear what Pa has to say. Then we’ll see about them Rangers who strung up Wade.”

* * *

Pritchard’s request for a leave of absence from the Texas Rangers was granted. The wedding was to be held in two weeks, in the capital. Their engagement was announced in both the Fort Worth and Austin newspapers.

Pritchard bought a diamond and gold wedding ring, for five hundred dollars, from a jeweler in Fort Worth. All he owned was his horse, saddle, guns, and a few clothes, and he’d saved every penny of his Ranger pay over the last five years. This savings included his share of countless reward bounties on various outlaws he’d brought to justice, dead or alive. As a result, he had accumulated a sum of over ten thousand dollars. The money and ring, a surprise for Caroline on her wedding day, were secreted inside his saddle, in a pocket under the lining. It was his plan to use the money to buy a cottage for he and Caroline, in Austin, near her parents.

The smiling couple, along with Mr. Woodruff and three other passengers, boarded a stage on a warm July morning to begin the three-day journey to Austin. Caroline’s trunk and Pritchard’s saddle were packed on top with the other passengers’ luggage. Rusty was tethered to the rear of the coach.

Pritchard’s fellow Rangers were there to see him off, as well as a large crowd of onlookers and well-wishers. Captain Franchard shook Pritchard’s hand, kissed Caroline’s, and the entire Ranger detachment escorted the stage out of town, whoopin’ and hollerin’, Texas style.

Two people who were not at the stage’s raucous send-off were Wesley Boone and Jim Collins. They, along with the other hands from the Triple B who’d been dallying in Fort Worth, had already left town the night before.

Chapter 31

Chapter 31

The stage rolled into its first stop, sixty miles south of Fort Worth, at sundown. The shotgun messenger blew his bugle a half mile out, as was customary. This was to alert the station manager and his family, if he had one living with him at the remote outpost, of the coach’s impending arrival.