The Outlaws: Sam

by Ten Talents Press

  "Put me inside you," he rasped.

  Lacey touched him. Tentatively at first, then more firmly. Her hand glided over him, from the satiny tip to the hard pouches at its root.

  "You're killing me!" Sam cried. Taking matters into his own hands, he flexed his hips and plunged deeply into her core. She stiffened against the initial jolt of pain. It had been so long. Then the storm within her body raged out of control, quickly banishing the slight discomfort as he began to move.

  She arched upward, back bowed, groaning out his name as she surged against him urgently, her hips rising to meet every forceful thrust. Her hands dug into his shoulders as she lifted her legs, wrapping them tightly around his waist, locking him against her. The room was silent but for the harsh rasping of their breath, the thudding of their hearts beating in unison. Broken sounds of passion mingled with protesting bedsprings beneath them as their motions became more frenzied, more abandoned. Tension built tighter and tighter, almost too acute to bear, until Lacey thought she'd die of it.

  The peak came in a rush of throbbing spasms, unraveling the tangled threads of her composure. Pleasure radiated outward from inside her, piercing through her to her core as the walls of her sex clenched his engorged shaft again and again.

  Sam gave a hoarse shout, his head thrown back, his fists tangling in the bed linens. His knuckles turned white as his own climax slammed through him. His hips pistoned convulsively, pushing him deeper, heightening her contractions as their loins met with scalding bursts of liquid heat.

  Lacey clamped down hard on her tongue to keep from screaming. She could feel his hot seed spurting inside her, triggering another round of spasms.

  Then suddenly it was over. Sam collapsed on top of her. Lacey sank into the mattress, incapable of moving or speaking. After what seemed like hours but was in reality mere minutes, Sam moved off her. He was quiet, too quiet. She glanced over at him. He was lying on his back, one arm bent over his eyes, his lips turned downward into a scowl.

  Suddenly he reared up on his elbow and glared at her. "What in God's name did you do to me? It wasn't my intention to feel anything...to feel so strongly... Dammit! Our relationship has enough problems without creating more."

  Lacey's lips thinned. "I did nothing. You've been working up to this moment since you arrived. I wanted nothing to do with you, but you persisted. I asked you to leave and you refused. Whatever happened in this bed is of your own making."

  "Rest assured it won't happen again," Sam groused. "You have a way of making a man forget his own name. I don't want to pick up where we left off six years ago. You lost the chance to be my wife when you betrayed me."

  "You lost the chance to be a husband to me when you abandoned me," Lacey shot back. "Let's pretend this never happened."

  "Agreed."

  "Does that mean you're going to move back to the bunkhouse?" Lacey asked hopefully. "Or better yet, leave?"

  "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Sam sneered.

  "It's the best for all concerned. We can both get on with our lives."

  Sam couldn't believe what had just happened. Not only had he made love to Lacey but it had been the best sex he had ever had. Even better than those furtive stolen moments in the barn where Lacey had lost her virginity to him. How many times had they made love before today? he wondered, thinking back to those hectic days when the war raged around them. He could count them on one hand and have a finger or two left over. Obviously Lacey had learned a lot over the years.

  Dimly he recalled her tightness when he'd first thrust into her, and he frowned. She told him he had been her only lover. Could she be telling the truth? If so, that would mean that Andy... Denial rose inside him. No. Were Andy his son, Lacey would have told him. She never once said that he was Andy's father.

  As if Sam's thoughts had conjured up his image, Andy chose that moment to barge into the room.

  "I can't find Mama, Papa. She said she'd tuck me in bed."

  Lacey gave a squawk of dismay and dove for the covers. Sam grasped the sheet and pulled it up to cover them.

  "Is that you, Mama?" Andy asked as he approached the bed.

  Sam made his expression deliberately stern for Andy's benefit. "You're going to have to learn to knock, Andy. Married couples like their privacy. Can you remember that?"

  Andy nodded, his face solemn. "I'll remember, Papa. Rusty said you and Mama would sleep in one bed but I didn't believe him."

  Lacey groaned again. "You were discussing me and Sam with Rusty?"

  "Rusty and I talk about everything. But I didn't ask him anything about you and Sam. I just listened when Rusty and the hands were talking. I don't think they knew I was there."

  "What did they say?" Lacey asked in a hushed voice.

  Andy cocked his head, as if trying to recall the conversation. "The hands thought it mighty strange that Papa didn't say anything about being married to you when he first showed up at the ranch."

  "Is that all?" Sam coaxed gently.

  "Rusty said it was none of their business. Then Lefty said that Rita told him you and Mama kept separate rooms. Rusty told them they shouldn't spec-u-late, that you and Mama might have separate rooms but he'd bet his right arm that you used only one bed."

  Sam cleared his throat. "As you can see, Rusty was right. But our sleeping arrangement is not a subject for discussion. Run along now, son. Your mama will come to tuck you in bed in a few minutes."

  Andy scampered off. Sam glanced at Lacey and saw that her face had lost all semblance of color.

  "Damn you, Sam Gentry," she hissed. "I've lost the respect of my foreman and hands, and my own son is asking questions about our relationship."

  "We're legally married, Lacey. There's nothing to be embarrassed about."

  He rose, walked over to the wash basin and filled it with water from the pitcher. Lacey didn't wait around to watch him wash. With a cry of dismay, she leaped from bed, threw on her shift and stalked from the room.

  Sam tried his best to ignore Lacey during the following days. He deliberately left the house early each morning and devoted his full attention to the ranch. Learning about ranching was no easy task, but he was beginning to feel right at home. He usually ate lunch with the hands, and sometimes he joined them for supper. Eating with friendly faces sure beat those sour looks Lacey threw him across the table. If he had any doubt that Lacey's punishment was working, he had only to look at her to realize how effective it was.

  Bed time was the worst time of day for Sam. Each night he fought his own inclination to stalk into Lacey's room and make violent love to her. She would resist, he realized, but he was also aware that it wouldn't take too much coaxing to rouse her to passion. Lacey's mind might be unwilling but he was experienced enough to know that her body wanted him. Fortunately he knew better than to surrender to his lust. He tried to tell himself that his purpose for remaining at the ranch was to punish Lacey, but his almost constant arousal belied his own intent.

  One day Sam was repairing a fence in the yard when he saw Cramer ride up to the house. His face hardened and his fists clenched at his sides, but he forced himself to wait to see if Lacey would welcome Cramer before reacting.

  Shading his eyes against the glare of the sun, Sam watched as Cramer dismounted at the hitching post and walked toward the house. Suddenly a shot rang out. Sam drew his gun and looked for the shooter. Another shot followed the first. The dirt at Cramer's feet scattered as the bullet struck the ground, missing him by scant inches. Sam saw a movement at the corner of the barn. He spun, ducked low, and got off two shots before the shooter ducked out of sight.

  Sam's gun was still smoking when several hands ran up to investigate.

  "What happened?" Barney asked.

  "I'll tell you what happened," Cramer said, striding over to Sam. "Gentry tried to shoot me in the back."

  Sam's eyes narrowed. "You're wrong, Cramer. I don't shoot men in the back."

  Cramer glanced pointedly at Sam's gun. "The barrel of your weapon is still smok
ing. There are witnesses, Gentry. My eyes didn't deceive me. I saw you deliberately aim and fire at me."

  Lacey ran from the house and forced her way through the circle of men surrounding Sam and Cramer. "What's going on?"

  "Your husband tried to kill me," Cramer charged.

  Disbelief marched across Lacey's face. "I heard the shots, but...surely you're mistaken, Taylor. Sam has a temper but I'm sure he wouldn't shoot you without provocation."

  "That's exactly what he did," Cramer insinuated. "He's a back shooter, and he won't get away with it."

  Cramer grasped his horse's reins and swung himself into the saddle. "You haven't heard the last of this, Gentry." Spurring his mount, he rode away.

  "What really happened, Sam?" Rusty asked when the hands began drifting away.

  "Someone took a shot at Cramer, but it wasn't me."

  "Did you fire your gun?"

  "I saw a movement near the barn and got off a couple of shots when I realized what had happened."

  "Cramer's got clout in this town, son. I wouldn't take his threats lightly."

  "Cramer doesn't frighten me," Sam claimed. But that wasn't exactly the truth. Sam had plenty to worry about. He couldn't afford to tangle with the law. He was a wanted man.

  "Watch your back," Rusty warned before he turned and walked away.

  "Did you do it, Sam?" Lacey asked.

  "Don't put me in the same category as your lover," Sam growled. "I've never shot a man in the back and don't intend to start now. I wouldn't waste a bullet on Cramer."

  Sam could tell by the look on Lacey's face that she wasn't convinced of his innocence. That shouldn't surprise him, though it did hurt.

  "I hope you're telling the truth, Sam," Lacey whispered. She spun on her heel and strode back to the house.

  Sam stared at her departing back, admiring the sway of her hips and remembering the way they looked unclothed. Her body was perfection, without a blemish or mark to mar her beauty. He hadn't been too lost in passion to store every lush curve, enticing hill and mysterious valley to his memory.

  Sam shook his wayward thoughts from his head and returned to the work he'd abandoned before Cramer had appeared.

  Sam had almost forgotten the altercation with Cramer and was heading to the house for supper when two men rode into the yard. He stopped and waited for them. Then he saw the sun reflecting off the badges the men wore on their vests and he cursed beneath his breath. The sheriff's visit could mean only one thing.

  "Howdy, Sheriff, what can I do for you?"

  "I think you know," Sheriff Hale said as he drew rein beside Sam.

  "I can think of nothing that would bring you here. Why don't you fill me in."

  "Taylor Cramer filed charges against you today."

  To his credit, Sam remained outwardly calm despite the fury seething inside him. He never thought Cramer would go this far.

  "What, may I ask, are the charges?"

  "Attempted murder. He said you tried to shoot him in the back, that there are witnesses who will verify that your gun was in your hand and smoking."

  "I'll admit I fired my gun, but it wasn't at Cramer. I shot at the man who tried to kill Cramer."

  Hale and his deputy exchanged skeptical glances. "Did anyone besides yourself see the man you supposedly shot at?"

  Sam frowned. "I don't believe so. No. But that doesn't mean he wasn't there."

  "One more question, Mr. Gentry. Did you and Mr. Cramer have an altercation recently?"

  "It's common knowledge that Cramer and me didn't see eye to eye on certain things, but that doesn't prove I tried to kill him."

  "In my books that's damning evidence," Hale said. "That and Mr. Cramer's persistence that he saw you pull the trigger are all the proof I require. You're under arrest, Gentry. Hand over your guns."

  Sam's mind went blank. Jail was the one place he'd been hoping to avoid, but now it looked like that's where he was going to end up. How long before Sheriff Hale recognized him from a wanted poster? Since fleeing was out of the question, Sam unbuckled his gunbelt and handed it to the sheriff.

  "Can I speak to my wife and son first?" Sam asked.

  "I was surprised to learn you were Mrs. Gentry's husband," Hale said. "I knew you bore the same last names but assumed it was coincidence. I heard that Mrs. Lacey's husband had died in the war. She must have been real shocked when you turned up alive."

  "You could say that," Sam muttered.

  "I reckon it's all right to speak to your wife before I take you in, as long as you don't try to escape. You'll be given a fair trial. The jury might even believe your story, but I wouldn't count on it."

  Sam glanced toward the house and saw Lacey watching him from the front porch. He was glad Andy wasn't with her for he didn't want the boy to think the worst of him. "I won't be long, sheriff," he said grimly.

  Would Lacey be happy to see him behind bars? Sam wondered. Was this but one more attempt on Cramer's part to get rid of him? Did Lacey have anything to do with it? Did Cramer hire someone to shoot at him and miss so he could blame Sam?

  "What's the sheriff want?" Lacey asked when he reached her.

  "Me," Sam snarled. "Your lover filed charges against me. He claimed I tried to kill him. I'm going to be carted off to jail."

  Lacey gasped. "But you didn't do it."

  "That's what I told the sheriff, but he doesn't believe me. Cramer is a respected citizen. I'm a drifter, a nobody without a penny to call my own."

  "What can I do?" Lacey asked.

  "Call your lover off."

  "He's not..."

  The sheriff must have grown impatient for he walked his horse up to the porch, cutting off Lacey in mid sentence. "Sorry, ma'am, but I've got to take your husband in now."

  "Is that necessary, sheriff?" Lacey asked.

  "It is if your man is a killer. Maybe he can convince the jury of his innocence."

  Sam hadn't slept a wink his first night in jail. He'd neither seen nor heard anything to indicate that the sheriff knew he was a wanted man, and for that he was grateful. His meager breakfast finished, he paced the length of the small cell like a caged animal. How in the hell was he going to prove his innocence without a lawyer?

  Sam was still pacing when Sheriff Hale ushered an unwelcome visitor to his cell.

  "You have a visitor, Gentry," Hale said. "Mr. Cramer wants to make sure you're the man he saw shooting at him. Damn considerate of him, I'd say. He doesn't want to condemn an innocent man."

  "That's right," Cramer insisted. "Might I have a word alone with Gentry, Sheriff?"

  Hale hesitated a moment, then said, "I'll be nearby should you need me."

  "What do you want?" Sam barked once they were alone.

  "I have a proposition for you."

  "I'll bet you do," Sam spat. "Out with it, Cramer. What the hell do you want from me?"

  Cramer whipped a document from his pocket and thrust it at Sam.

  "What's that?"

  "A divorce document. Lacey is charging you with desertion and child abandonment. I had my lawyer draw up the papers last night."

  Sam stared at the document, then gave a shout of laughter. "There's no way I'm going to sign that."

  "What if I tell the sheriff you're not the man who shot at me? I'll say I was mistaken, that it happened just the way you said. Do you understand?"

  "Perfectly. My signature on the divorce document will guarantee my release."

  "I knew you'd see reason." He chuckled. "The man who tried to kill me, whether or not it was you, did me a favor. Now I have the leverage to force you to comply to my wishes. Think about it, Gentry. You have a choice. You could spend years behind bars or leave here a free man. All that is required of you is your signature. Once the divorce is finalized, Lacey and I will marry."

  Sam stared at the document as if he expected it to bite him. "Does Lacey know about this? Did she ask you to help her obtain a divorce? Does she know you're blackmailing me?"

  "Of course. Lacey and I both want t
his. We're in total agreement."

  Sam let his breath out slowly. It was just as he had suspect. Lacey had conspired with Cramer in order to get him to agree to a divorce. He couldn't count the times she'd asked him to leave her alone. He hoped she was happy now that she was getting what she wanted.

  Faced with years in jail, Sam's choices were few. He didn't want to sign the document. He didn't want to leave Lacey and Andy to Cramer, but what choice did he have?

  "There is one stipulation," Cramer added.

  "Of course," Sam said dryly.

  "Once you're out of jail, you're to leave town immediately. I'll tell Lacey what she needs to know. You abandoned her once, no one will think it unusual that you've left her a second time. You can ride away with the knowledge that I'll be looking after her welfare once we're married."

  "That's what I'm afraid of," Sam muttered.

  "You don't have much time, Gentry. A few years in prison or freedom. Make up your mind now for I won't offer the choice again."

  Sam sat on the horns of dilemma. Wanted posters for his arrest could arrive at any time. Or someone might recognize him from posters they'd seen elsewhere. All it would take to send him to prison was a telegram to Dodge City. Returning to Dodge in irons was not a pleasant thought. All things considered, what Cramer offered was a way out of a potentially dangerous situation. Damn! He wasn't ready to leave yet.

  "Well, Gentry, what will it be?" Cramer prodded.

  "Free me first and I'll sign your damn paper," Sam shot back.

  Cramer sent him an assessing look. "How do I know you won't refuse to sign after you're freed?"

  "How do I know you won't refuse to have me freed if I sign first?"

  Cramer's eyes narrowed. "It seems we're at an impasse."