Outlaw Bride (Lawmen and Outlaws) (2 page)

Besides, this one was an invalid. A stranger. A person in trouble. He couldn’t consider her a woman at all.

He forced himself back to the matter at hand. “Now, ma’am, I’m not sure what danger you’ve found for yourself. But you got my word. I will protect you and keep you safe.” He spoke the words soft and true. “Whoever is behind your trouble will have to answer to me.”

Her arms tightened, in gratitude, that’s all. The fear he’d been smelling lessened a bit on the warm wind. The last glaze of fright left her blue eyes. She nodded but didn’t speak a word. Redd reckoned her throat was mighty sore.

Even with his light load, his own words came out scattered as he sidestepped boulders and clumps of hogtail cactus.

“Now, I’m bound for St. Ignatius Mission, in the shadow of Cathedral Rock. I’m taking these here supplies to a friend of mine who’s venturing forth on an impossible scheme to start a school. A nun name of Sister Adelaide Eugene. She’s got three almost-nuns along with her.”

Maybe his chatter would keep her nerves down as well as his own shameful reaction to the woman he held. “Now, the mission’s been empty for years, likely full of tarantulas and scorpions, coyotes. Not to mention diamondbacks and dung.”

His boot heel sent a mound of pebbles crashing.

“I can’t even predict what breeds of wildlife have taken up housekeeping in the buildings,” he went on. “Suspect none of it is clean or friendly. But Sister is resolute, now that’s a fact, and I admire it.”

In truth, he did appreciate the nun’s ambition. It wasn’t much different from his own, hearing a call to carve out a new life. Unafraid of the future after a past he needed to forget. Figuring all would be well no matter how impossible it seemed at the moment.

“And the great beauty of all this is, ma’am, this nun is a nurse as well as a teacher. She’ll doctor you up right fine. Thing is, we gotta spend the night camping out along Oak Creek. Hope you don’t mind. This is the hottest September I remember. You’ll be warm enough under the night sky.”

She gave a little smile. And in spite of that outrageous thought of a kiss, he smiled back.

****

Instead of death or dust, Jessy Belle breathed in a man’s healthy sweat. And his strong, hard arms carried her over to a wagon where he plunked her down on a pile of blankets.

It felt good and safe but only for a flash. Where was she? What had he said? Oak Creek? Then she saw around her the glorious red rocks. She was still alive and still in Arizona.

Her heart skipped a beat.

So was Ahab.

Then it all came crashing back inside her head. No water. Her first fainting spell. Before that, almost dying at the end of a rope. Could this stranger be one of Ahab’s allies? They lurked everywhere.

Cleeland Redd. His name might well be an alias, that nun he mentioned a downright lie.

But this stranger was gentle, promising to keep her safe and murmuring she’d be all right. Ahab and his shameful pals had left her to die. And they had no use for gentleness. Unless, of course, they were charming a ring off a rich woman’s finger, four or five guns pointing at her head.

Well, she’d never done armed robbery. And she’d never killed.

Or whored.

But she had to admit to God Himself that she’d been a horse thief right along with Ahab and his gang.

For twelve years, she’d been a skinny kid with no choice. But she was a woman now. All that was over and done with.

“Take care, ma’am. Here’s more water. Get it down slow,” the man said softly. He swiped her arms and face again with his damp kerchief. “Got a name to tell me?”

Pretending to be weary, she avoided his eyes and shut her own. Not her real name, anyway. Taking on an alias in a heartbeat was another thing Ahab had taught her. But this was the first time she had to consider such a thing dressed like a female. Her usual choice, Caleb Downs, wouldn’t do at all.

Instead, she picked Mary, another Bible name just like Ahab and Jessy Belle. Mama used to say those two had been a king and queen once upon a time. She’d always liked being named for royalty and might as well pick the queen of heaven this time around.

But when she opened her mouth, no sound came out. Not even a squawk. Seemed the big brave men of Pioneer Meadows had taken her voice. Her hands flapped like the wings of a dying bird against her neck.

“Reckon your injuries have made you mute,” Cleeland Redd said, tying a big straw hat under her chin against the setting sun.

Jessy Belle considered the prospect. It was scary, not having a voice, but this way, she’d never have to answer to anybody. Right now, she was too tired and puny to invent a full-on sham, and she couldn’t very well tell the truth.

Playing forgetful was a right fine idea, too.

She shrugged, hoping he’d understand.

“All righty. You get some rest now,” Cleeland Redd said with a smile. “Now, my mutt could use some exercise but he’s accustomed to riding in that very spot. You like some company?”

Even her sore neck couldn’t stop her nods. A dog! Oh, she’d wanted one her whole life through. She held off a tremble, Pa shooting strays while he laughed. Claimed a pet was nothing but a fursack full of fleas and infection. And life with Ahab of course, with no chance to settle down anywhere, hadn’t given her a chance to hug or love anything.

Not even her brother.

Right now, the dog jumped up into the wagon and made himself at home by her side. Her heart melted. His fur wasn’t full of anything bad at all, other than dust and a burr. She put her hand on him. The warmth and softness of a childhood lost tickled her skin. And her heart melted again, this time not in a good way, when she remembered all the bad years.

Dagnab, most of her years had been bad, some way or other. She’d turned eighteen last week. It was high time for some good ones.

Cleeland Redd peered down at the two of them, and she took a few careful peeks at him from under the brim of the chewed-up straw hat. With his long dark hair trimmed neat at the ends, he was most good-looking. A moustache hugged his lip, and eyes the color of whiskey winked in the sun.

Then and there, she realized the truth. No man of evil character would ever be delivering goods to a passel of nuns. And sure as tarnation, nobody in Ahab’s employ would be carting around boxes of slates and books.

She smiled in sudden joy at the day’s outcome. She was alive. And for the first time in her life, in the company of a handsome, decent man. She’d never found a hidden spring, but she had found deliverance.

Cleeland Redd smiled slowly back. For a flash, his lids dropped over his eyes just like they might do as he fell asleep.

Hmmmm. Thinking of him asleep beside her flew butterflies and bumblebees in her stomach. Despite her pains, she felt a funny little tingle in a place she only thought about once a month, and then only because of the mess.

This now, this feeling was nice, and she’d like more of it. Starting with her pa way back when, no one of the male persuasion had ever been nice to her before. Leastways not without wanting something from her she didn’t want to give.

Then her heart started a sad tremble, almost like it was breaking in two. A man this kind and fine-looking would already have staked a claim on a real-live respectable woman somewhere.

Right then a new thought birthed itself inside her brain. Jessy Belle knew what she had to do even though the plan started up her tears. When they got to the mission, she’d join that group of nuns.

Last place on earth Ahab would come searching for her was a church.

Chapter Two

With the creek mumbling nearby, Renegade set off to explore. Night fell after a sunset turned the rocks gold, like those fairy tales about El Dorado.

Redd lit a fire. The evening had grown surprisingly cold and the scent of brewing Arbuckle’s filled the air. He needed something to help him stay awake and keep watch. Rumors had the Ahab Perkins gang meandering the ’Zona territory, and he had two fine mules for the nuns and his own calico to protect. ’Course the mutt would raise a fine ruckus if need be.

Damn horse thieves. Ought to be strung up, each and every one. And he’d heard lately they’d taken to robbing stagecoaches and passersby. Those fool dime novels just kept spreading their names and exploits like they were natural things.

Along with the animals, he now had a sick, scared woman to tend. She’d slept, the wagon wheels rocking her like a baby, but even then, she’d groaned the whole way. Tears dropped down her cheeks with her bad dreams.

Now she stirred and from his place by the fire, he saw her head pop over the side of the wagon.

“How do, ma’am,” he said, polite, and looked over at the supper he’d made her. He’d washed down jerky and hardtack with tipples of whiskey and creek water, but reckoned such a meal would discomfort her throat. So he’d busted the ’tack into pieces and soaked them with the last of his flask. The mush would go down easy, the whiskey would help her sleep the night through.

But first things first.

“Let me help you down, ma’am,” he said, heat rising at what he had to say next. “Figure you might be needing some privacy by this time.”

He nodded toward a thicket of sagebrush. In the firelight, shadows flickered into gray circles underneath her eyes. She swallowed like it still hurt and reached for him.

When she hit the ground, her legs stood steady, which surprised him. She might be small and scared, but she was no feeble ninny. All by herself, she walked to the bushes, and he turned his back like a gentleman ought. She was shivering, though.

Pulling the blanket from the wagon, he found himself pleased with her warmth and scent still on it. When she got back to him, he wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and said, “Let’s get you set up by the fire. I got something for you to eat. It isn’t much, but it’ll calm you down and warm you up.”

He backed her down against the saddle on the ground, upon which he’d been leaning, and answered the question in her eyes.

“Yep, I’m driving this mule team and wagon to the mission for keeps. But my mustang Snapper’s along with us. So’s I can ride him back to my ranch outside Whisper Ridge, I lug my saddle along in the wagon.”

Hearing his name, the calico nickered in the dark.

“Got him and the mules ground-tethered just thataway, close to the water.” He pointed into the shadows, knowing right where the animals nuzzled the ground. His eyes were as good at night as they were by day. Scouting for Redd had been a natural occupation, just like breathing. But he didn’t miss it. Not for a second. Not after Tawana, and the buffalo, and all the other slaughter he’d seen.

“Snap follows the wagon by day, or runs on ahead for a bit. You’ll see him up close tomorrow. We’ll get to the mission by mid-morn,” he went on, knowing though that he’d keep his horse tied behind the wagon tomorrow if there was thieves about.

Her back was tense against the saddle, but she attacked the crude meal he’d made her with a bit of zeal. Redd was glad she could eat at all.

“Yep, my Snapper likes to run free on occasion, but he never goes far from me.” He had to laugh as he settled next to his guest. “A rogue, he was. Wild and free as the wind on the Plains. Named him Whippersnapper, as he was none but a colt. Roped him in from a wild herd and broke him myself. Sang to him plenty, but he snapped at me plenty during it all. But now we are the best of friends.”

He peered at her. Her face had come to life now although he disliked the trails of her tears. After a while he’d get her some creek water for a wash-up. Even though she couldn’t talk, he felt they were conversing right as rain.

“You know horseflesh?” he asked politely, then got serious. “Me and Renegade, now, we’ll be a bit more wakeful tonight. Heard talk the Ahab Perkins gang’s been prowling around these parts.”

At that, she choked with a gurgling sound, and he handed her his canteen.

“Take it easy on your throat, ma’am,” he warned, then tried to chuckle. “We got that whole creek next door, but don’t need to cause your innards any disquiet. And don’t you worry yourself about that Perkins gang. I take care of my own. Although…”

With a nod, he slowed, considering the possibilities as he sipped some Arbuckle’s, “…although there is a righteous reward out on each and every one of those hooligans. Such cash would go mighty far in completing my needs for my ranch if I were to track them down.”

Then she burst into tears.

Likely his mention of outlaws alarmed her gentle sensibilities after her violent attack. Feeling awkward, he took a deep breath and ended up communicating in a soothing tone he hadn’t used in years.

“Now, now, ma’am. Forgive such talk. Things are all right. I won’t go speaking any more things so distressing to your feminine feelings.” Like a pa, he patted her arm.

Likely the horrors of her day had caught up with her, now with night upon her. Darkness was always a time when demons slid into his own mind and dreams. Even in the gloom around him now, he didn’t mind admitting to a quiver of unrest. But he’d held onto his Army issue Colt .45 Peacemaker, slung a Bowie at his belt. Had kept a knife in his boot since he was a tad of eight. That was when Ma married The Devil.

And maybe if he kept himself thinking on this young woman’s tragedy, the sorrow over Tawana would keep away for once. Somehow darkness and loneliness always wed up with each other just at bedtime, breaking his heart worse than the first time.

By then, the girl was shaking so hard he pulled her against his chest. Her heart pounded against his beneath the blanket bundling her. One of her arms climbed around his neck, the other hugged his back. It was nice, holding a woman in his arms again. Until he remembered the dangers of giving away his heart.

Not to mention his vow of faithfulness to Tawana.

But this poor girl trembled so hard she might be a rickety tree in a winter wind. He didn’t resist putting his lips against her hair, mumbling words, not of love, but of peace and comfort.

Words promising her again and again that everything would be all right.

“Let’s get you tucked into bed,” he said finally, able to get to his feet with her in his arms. “I’ll be right close by, all night long. Whatever you need.”