Hope's Heart

Chapter One

A/N: Yes, I know, I've been away a long time, and I apologize sincerely for that! Here is the first chapter of my new story, which I've dedicated to @sapphireshine97. Your blog has helped me more than you know :) Please enjoy!

Chapter One

Wyoming Territory, 1869

BANG!

The sharp sound of gunfire cut through the still afternoon air, jerking Hope McClellen from a fitful sleep. Disoriented, she glanced around at the other passengers in the stagecoach, their fearful expressions making her stomach wrench. "What's going on?"

The man across from her, an elderly banker from Missouri, answered tautly. "Bandits. They're chasing the stage." A second shot echoed through the air and the banker's wife let out a muffled shriek.

As the stagecoach gathered speed, Hope glanced down at her daughter. Maggie lay peacefully asleep in her arms, the shots, by some miracle, having failed to waken her. Fighting the fear that was growing inside, Hope drew the three-year-old closer, mind racing. Was I wrong to leave the farm? To come all the way out west without so much as a plan? And then, more chillingly, What will happen to Maggie if I get killed?

"They're getting closer," the young woman next to Hope said fearfully. One hand rested protectively on her swollen stomach, bright blue eyes wide with apprehension. Hope tried to smile comfortingly, remembering their chat the day before as the stagecoach bounced across the prairie. Lucy Haines was only twenty, expecting her first child, and travelling to meet her husband in Denver. This trip was meant to be a safe, uneventful one, but now, Hope wondered if any of them would ever reach their destination alive.

Another shot rang out, much closer this time, and Hope caught a glimpse of a man racing alongside the stagecoach, a black bandana pulled up around his face and a pistol in hand. He fired again, and all of a sudden the stagecoach started barreling along even faster than before, swaying and lurching about. 

The banker poked his head out of the window. "The horses!" he shouted. "They're loose...!" He didn't get a chance to finish as the stagecoach tilted violently to the side, and then suddenly they were rolling down the steep incline on their right. 

The sound of splintering wood and screams from her travelling companions filled Hope's ears, nearly deafening her. Clinging tightly to Maggie, Hope slammed against the window of the stage and fell to the floor. The stage did one final roll, and suddenly Hope was flying through the air. The ground rushed up to meet her, and then all went dark.

~

The sun shining on her face brought Hope back to consciousness slowly. Stifling a moan, she forced her eyes open, trying to get her blurry vision to focus. Her head throbbed abominably and her ribs hurt every time she tried to breathe.

Wincing, she tried to remember what had happened. The bandits had been chasing them....and then the stagecoach had gone out of control. She remembered holding Maggie...and being flung from the stage.

Maggie!

Panic ran through Hope, turning her mouth dry. She turned her head, ignoring the pain the movement caused, desperately searching for her daughter. A movement to the left caught her eye and she twisted around to look.

Lucy lay next to her, blue dress flapping in the wind, her eyes staring vacantly at the sky. Looking at her, Hope felt an awful sadness, coupled with the fear that Maggie was also no longer alive.

Biting down hard on her lip, she attempted to move, but the sound of voices to her right stopped her. Turning her head, Hope focused on the men who now stood by the stagecoach, rummaging through the suitcases and bags that had fallen to the ground.

There were three of them. Hope watched as one fumbled around with the clasp of the bag the banker's wife had been holding, and her eyes widened in horror as he yanked the old lady's still body clear of the stage and began taking off her jewellery and stuffing it into his pockets.

"Hurry up," the tallest one ordered. "I don't want to be around if some nosy lawman comes snooping and we've gotten everything we can. Let's get out of here."

"What about the passengers, boss?" the man who had taken the banker's wife's jewels asked. He had a nasal whine, and Hope shuddered silently as she listened. "Not too many of 'em could've survived a fall like that."

The leader glanced around. "Still, last thing I need are witnesses." Before Hope could fully realise what was going on, he drew his gun and fired. The banker's wife's body jerked convulsively, and her head rolled to the side.

A scream worked its way up from the back of Hope's throat, but all she could manage was a small whimper. Eyes wide, she watched as the leader leaned into the stagecoach and fired again, undoubtedly finishing off the banker. That done, the man turned and marched over in her direction, spurs clanking with each step.

Heart pounding, Hope lay still, fear making it almost impossible to breathe. She shut her eyes tightly, holding her breath and praying the man would pass her by.

The footsteps stopped right next to her. Heart thudding, Hope waited. Please spare Maggie. Please let Maggie be alive. The words ran through her mind over and over again, the only coherent though she could manage.

She heard the click of the gun cocking...and tensed, waiting for the shot. God, help me! 

A shot rang out, entirely different from the ones before. A strange choking noise sounded above her, and in spite of herself, Hope opened her eyes, wondering why she wasn't dead yet.

The bandit leader stood above her, hands pressed to a rapidly spreading wound on his chest. His shocked gaze met Hope's for a minute, and then he stumbled and fell on top of her, pinning her to the ground with his dead weight.

The other two bandits watched their leader's demise in shock, seemingly frozen, but when another shot was fired, they responded with a blaze of gunfire, dashing for their horses. One of them was hit in the leg, but with the help of his comrade, mounted, and the two of them galloped away, still firing at the unknown assailant.

Hope lay still, unable to move. The bandit leader's body was pressing her into the ground, cutting off her ability to breathe, and the stench of stale sweat, whiskey, and blood emanating from him was nearly choking her.

Footsteps sounded nearby and Hope froze. 

Please, God, no...

~

A/N: Hope y'all enjoyed that! Votes and comments are welcome!