“Who are . . .” the man with the gun began to ask, and then recognition dawned across his face. He started to raise the revolver at Nick. Without thinking, Nick barreled into the man.
The force of his weight shoved the man back into Dr. Rousseau’s room. They both stumbled, Nick to his knees and his opponent into the desk.
“Nick!” Willa’s voice from the doorway drew Nick’s attention back up as he pushed himself to standing.
The other man had recovered sooner, and now lifted the pistol and pointed it at Nick. “You stay right there!”
Nick raised his hands and tried to ignore the ribbons of cold fear that unfurled in his stomach. He’d had the upper hand and lost it. And now he—along with Dr. Rousseau and Willa—might be meeting his end right here in this hotel room. He could have stayed safe in Cincinnati. But then he never would have felt the freedom, the drive to help that he’d found here. It was as if he’d come alive again.
And then, of course, there was Willa.
Willa. She was in the hallway. She could go, get out of here. Maybe get help, but most importantly, stay alive.
He turned just slightly, as the man before him seemed to be deciding what to do. He searched the doorway and the hall out of the corner of his eye, but she wasn’t there.
Nick smiled even as his heart pounded. She’d done exactly as he’d thought she might. Although instead of asking the desk clerk downstairs to go for the marshal, she’d likely gone herself. He prayed she’d reach the marshal without meeting any obstacles.
And in the meantime, he could use her absence as leverage.
“I bet you got money, Doc.” The man with the gun had a wild look in his eye, as if he knew this was his last chance at getting what he wanted.
“Perhaps I do.” Nick remained still, hoping his stance would project more courage than he felt. At least Willa was gone. Anything that happened now couldn’t hurt her physically. All he needed to do was ensure this man left without hurting her father.
“Give it here.” The man pulled one hand from the revolver and held it out.
Nick reached slowly into his pocket and retrieved his wallet. The man yanked it from him. He fumbled to open it with only one hand, but finally managed to pull the leather pouch open. “This is all you’ve got?” He looked in disbelief at Nick.
“It is.” It was all he had in the wallet, at least.
The man looked between Nick and Dr. Rousseau, who looked much improved. “I believe I’ll take that horse after all.”
“If I were you, I’d take myself out of this hotel and then right out of town,” Nick said. “Miss Rousseau has gone for the marshal. I imagine it won’t be long before he arrives.”
The fellow’s eyes widened, and he peered around Nick to see into the empty hallway. He pushed past Nick, cursing when he saw that Willa was gone. A split second later, he was gone too, scampering down the hallway to the stairs.
Nick dropped his hands and turned to Dr Rousseau. “Are you all right?”
“Fine. I’m fine. Please, go after my daughter. I fear he may find her on his way out of Creede,” Dr. Rousseau answered.
Nick didn’t hesitate, running out the door and down the stairs. He didn’t have to go far, though, because right there, just outside the door to the hotel, stood the man he chased—in handcuffs next to the marshal.
