The Outlaws: Sam

by Ten Talents Press

  "Where you going?"

  "To stop a wedding and force Cramer to tell me where's he's taken Andy."

  "I hope you know what you're doing," Rusty said. "Miz Lacey wanted to handle it herself."

  "She isn't capable of handling Cramer. I'll kill the bastard before I let Lacey marry him."

  Killing wasn't Sam's way of solving problems, but in Cramer's case, it would be a pleasure. He prayed he wasn't too late to stop Lacey from making the biggest mistake of her life.

  The words stuck in Lacey throat as she and Taylor stood up before the preacher. Her mouth was so dry she had to swallow several times before she could make herself repeat the two words that would bind her to a man she despised. She paused so long the preacher repeated his question.

  "You have to say something, Lacey," Taylor prodded. "You know you're going to do what's best for your son."

  That did it. Taylor's thinly veiled threat unclogged her throat and she whispered, "I do."

  Moments later the preacher pronounced them man and wife. The kiss that followed was one of mastery and possession, and Lacey had all she could do not to gag. They followed the preacher to the vestibule of the church, where they signed the necessary papers.

  It was done, Lacey thought as she left the church with Taylor. She was Mrs. Taylor Cramer. It sickened her to think that at one time she had welcomed the title, but that was before Taylor had shown his true colors. At the moment, all Lacey could think of was Andy, and how happy she'd be to have him with her again. Then Taylor's crude words abruptly roused her from her apathy.

  "I think we'll go directly to the hotel, my dear. You're mine now. Once I've bedded you, you'll have no doubt about my mastery over you."

  Lacey balked. "I want to see Andy."

  "All in good time. I'm eager to consummate our wedding vows."

  "You promised."

  "I promised you'd see him, but I didn't say when. My life will be less complicated without your spoiled brat causing problems."

  Rage seethed through Lacey. "The only reason I married you was because you held Andy hostage. I've kept my part of the bargain, now you keep yours."

  "When the time is right, I'll bring Andy home. Perhaps I'll wait until your belly swells with my child. I need an heir for the wealth I've accumulated. I'm about to become even wealthier," he bragged, "since adding the B&G to my holdings."

  Lacey stopped just short of the waiting buggy. "What did you say?"

  "I said I'm about to become wealthier..."

  "No, not that. What did you say about Andy?"

  "I've decided to let Andy stay where he is for awhile."

  "Bastard!" Lacey hissed. "You'll tell me where Andy is or I'll..."

  A pistol shot abruptly cut off Lacey's words. She watched in horror as Taylor clutched his chest and fell to the ground. Blood bloomed on his shirt beneath his hand. Lacey dropped to her knees beside him, fearing that the wound was a fatal one. Panic swept through her.

  "Taylor! Don't die! Where's Andy? Oh, God, please don't die. Tell me where you've taken Andy."

  Taylor's eyes opened slowly. "Too...late..." Then his eyes rolled back into his head.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sam pushed Galahad to his limits as the stalwart horse closed the distance to town. Sam had to stop Lacey from marrying Cramer before it was too late. Each mile he traveled increased his anger. Lacey should have told him Cramer was holding Andy hostage, and then trusted him to handle the situation instead of making a muddle of things herself.

  Splatters of foam flew from Galahadn's mouth as the poor animal stretched his legs to match his master's urgency.

  Sam pulled back on the reins as he entered the town and guided Gallahad down Denison's main street. He knew from previous visits that the church sat at the north end of town, and his heart pounded erratically as the church came into view.

  Sam spotted them immediately and he drew rein a short distance away. Lacey and Cramer were standing beside a buggy, engaged in heated conversation. Sam had no idea whether they were going into the church or just leaving it. Lacey's back was to him. Cramer was so engrossed in the conversation he hadn't yet noticed Sam. Sam was about to call out to them when he saw something that froze his blood.

  The sun's reflection off the barrel of a rifle.

  The rifle that was pointed directly at Lacey and Cramer. Sam couldn't see the owner of a rifle for he was concealed by thick bushes that grew alongside the church. What he did see was a rifle barrel poking out of the foliage. Fear laced through him. Was the bullet intended for Cramer or Lacey? He didn't wait to find out.

  He drew his six-shooter and aimed into the bushes. His gun exploded at the same time the shooter fired. Sam had no idea if his bullet hit the shooter for the rifle was instantly withdrawn, but the shooter's bullet had found a target in Cramer's chest. Sam spurred Galahad into the bushes but the shooter had disappeared.

  Then he saw Lacey kneeling before Cramer, screaming words he couldn't hear. Dismounting quickly, he left Galahad's reins dangling and raced toward Lacey and the fallen Cramer. He heard Lacey cry out, "Don't die, Taylor! Please don't die!"

  Sam was beside her now, kneeling to examine Cramer, his smoking gun still in his hand. Lacey turned to him, tears streaming down her face. The preacher ran out of the church, stopped a passerby and sent him after the sheriff and the doctor.

  "Why did you do it, Sam?" Lacey cried. "Now we'll never find Andy."

  Sam looked property stunned. "I didn't shoot him, Lacey."

  Lacey's lips trembled. "Is he dead?"

  Sam found a weak pulse in Cramer's neck. "No, but he's as near death as a man can get. The assassin's bullet hit damn close to his heart."

  "You shouldn't have shot him. That's exactly what I was trying to prevent. I'll never get Andy back now."

  Sam grit his teeth in frustration. "I didn't shoot him, I swear it."

  The words had no sooner left his mouth than the sheriff arrived. He looked at Cramer, saw the gun in Sam's hand and drew his own weapon. "You just can't stay out of trouble, can you, Gentry? Move away from the victim and drop your gun."

  "I didn't shoot Cramer."

  "Your gun, Gentry," Sheriff Hale repeated.

  Sam dropped his gun. The sheriff picked it up, sniffed the barrel, then ran his hand over it. "The barrel is still hot and the smell of gunpowder is prominent. Your gun has been fired recently, Mr. Gentry, what have you got to say for yourself?"

  "I shot at the man who gunned down Cramer," Sam argued. "He was hiding in the bushes. I'm not sure my bullet hit him, he was gone when I got there."

  "How convenient, but I don't buy it. The first time you shot at Cramer, you missed. This time you got lucky."

  "I didn't shoot Cramer now and I didn't shoot at him before," Sam bit out. "I had no reason to kill him."

  "What about jealousy? That's enough reason for me, and I suspect the judge and jury will agree. Crimes of passion are common enough nowadays.

  Just then the doctor arrived. He pushed everyone aside and knelt before the victim. "It doesn't look good," the doctor said in a no nonsense manner."

  "Is he alive?" Lacey asked. "Can he talk?"

  "What are you to the victim?" the doctor asked curtly.

  Lacey started to say "nothing," when the preacher spoke up.

  "She's Mr. Cramer's wife. I married them not a half hour ago."

  Sam groaned but said nothing.

  "I don't hold out much hope for him, Mrs. Cramer, but I'll do my best. I'll know more after I dig the bullet out. Let's get him to my office," he said to the milling crowd.

  Immediately four men stepped forward and lifted Cramer. Lacey followed as they carried him down the street to the doctor's office. Sam started after her but stopped abruptly when Sheriff Hale poked him in the back with his gun.

  "You're going to jail, Gentry."

  "How many times do I have to tell you? I didn't shoot Cramer."

  "Tell that to the judge and jury. Move, Gentry."

  "My
horse..."

  "My deputy will take care of him."

  Cursing beneath his breath, Sam walked ahead of the sheriff, anger raging inside him. What rotten luck. Cleared of one crime and accused of another. Rafe and Jess were right. Trouble seemed to follow him. Not only did the sheriff think him guilty of attempted murder, but Lacey thought so too. Of course, Lacey wasn't thinking clearly, he couldn't blame her for that. If Cramer died, they might never know where he had hidden Andy.

  "You've got this all wrong, Sheriff," Sam said in an attempt to make Hale understand. "Another man shot Cramer and you're letting him get away. He might have my bullet in him, that ought to prove my innocence."

  "I've weighed the evidence and you're the only likely suspect. You belong in jail, where you can't hurt anyone else."

  Sam spit out a curse. How could he prove his innocence from a jail cell when no one, including Lacey, believe him? Damn, life wasn't fair.

  Lacey waited in the outer office while Doctor Larsen fought to save her husband's life. Taylor had to live long enough to tell her where to find Andy. He just had to!

  Minutes turned into hours. Lacey paced the limited confines of the office, her thoughts whirling furiously. She was so angry at Sam she couldn't think straight. What in the world was he thinking when he shot Taylor? Hadn't Rusty told him about Andy? Hadn't he explained why she had to marry Taylor? The last thing she'd wanted was Sam's interference. Now, thanks to Sam, Taylor lay near death and she might never find the answers she sought.

  The door opened. Lacey rose expectantly. The doctor walked into the room, wiping his hands on his blood-splattered apron.

  "I'm sorry, Mrs. Cramer. I couldn't save him."

  Lacey released a long, low wail and sank into the nearest chair.

  "I dug the bullet out. It had nicked your husband's heart. He died while I was working on him. He felt nothing."

  "Did...did he say anything?"

  "He never regained consciousness. What do you want done with the body?"

  She gave him a blank look. "The body?"

  "You're the next of kin. If you'd like, I could have the undertaker pick up the body. You can make arrangements directly with him when you feel up to it."

  "Next of kin," Lacey repeated dully. What did that mean? She hadn't wanted to be Taylor's wife, much less his next of Kin. "Yes, that would be fine with me, thank you. I'll speak to the undertaker when I'm...more myself. I don't have much money but I'll see that your fee is paid."

  "Don't you know? Taylor Cramer was a rich man. Your his heir. You stand to inherit all his wealth. If I were you, I'd get myself to the bank and talk to Mr. Markle about your husband's assets. You do have valid marriage papers, don't you."

  "Taylor had them on him," Lacey answered woodenly. She was still reeling from the surprising turn of events. Scant days ago the banker had denied her request for a loan, now she stood to inherit a great deal of money.

  "I'll bring out your husband's personal effects. Don't go away."

  Lacey couldn't move, much less walk out the door. Everything had happened so fast her head was still spinning. She started pacing in an effort to regan control of her senses. After a short wait the doctor returned and handed her a bundle wrapped in brown paper.

  "I emptied your husband's pockets. He had quite a bit of cash on him. His jewelry is in there, too."

  Lacey stared at the bundle, loathing welling up inside her. Then she shook off her aversion and accepted the bundle. "Thank you, Doctor Larsen."

  Lacey left the doctor's office in a daze. Married and widowed in the same day. First the wedding she'd never wanted, then the knowledge that Sam had killed Taylor before her husband of fifteen minutes could tell her where to find Andy. She spared a moment to wonder what the next few hours would bring.

  Lacey entered the bank and found herself the recipient of sympathetic looks. Apparently the news of Taylor's death had preceded her. She asked for Mr. Markle and was ushered into his office immediately.

  "Let me extend my condolence on behalf of the bank," Markle said solemnly. "Please sit down and tell me what I can do for you, Mrs. Cramer."

  "Doctor Larsen suggested that I see you before I return to the ranch," Lacey began. "Taylor and I were married shortly before...before his death. I'd like a review of my late husband's assets being held at your bank."

  Lacey didn't much care that her request might sound mercenary to the banker. If she didn't have the money to pay her back taxes by the end of the week she'd be turned out into the cold.

  "I usually meet with heirs after the funeral," Markle said with a hint of censure. "But if you insist."

  "Just tell me if there's enough money in the bank to pay the back taxes on the B&G."

  Markle stared at her. "You have no idea of your late husband's wealth, do you?"

  "Not a clue. All I'm interest in now is paying the taxes and..." She almost said "finding my son," but decided to keep that knowledge to herself.

  "Excuse me a moment while I get the necessary papers for you to sign. It won't take long to transfer your late husband's assets to your name. I assume you have your marriage papers with you."

  "I have them," Lacey said.

  "Very well. I'll be right back."

  Lacey used the time alone to unwrap the bundle of Cramer's person effects and scan the contents. The marriage papers were there amid several large denomination greenbacks and various pieces of jewelry. Lacey removed the marriage papers and all the greenbacks, leaving everything else for a more thorough inspection later.

  Lacey placed the marriage document before Markle when he returned. "Everything seems in order, Mrs. Cramer," he said after a cursory glance. "Once you sign these papers, the cash in your late husband's bank account will automatically revert to you. Mr. Cramer had other assets besides cash. You should visit his lawyer for a complete accounting of properties and such. He'll handle all the legal work for you."

  Lacey had little interest in anything Taylor owned beyond the money to pay her taxes. She signed the papers and returned them to Markle.

  "Very good," Markle said. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

  "I'd like a bank draft in the amount of the back taxes I owe and fifteen hundred dollars in cash. I'd like to pay the back taxes on the B&G before I return home."

  "On which ranch will you make your home?" Markle asked. "You now own two ranches."

  Two ranches? The thought was staggering. What was she going to do with two ranches? Sell one, obviously, and it wasn't going to be the B&G.

  "I can't decide anything right now," Lacey said. "I'll be on my way as soon as I have the money I requested."

  "Don't you want to know how much money your late husband has in his account?"

  "Very well," Lacey said, eager to leave. "How rich am I?"

  "Very rich," Markle gloated. "Mr. Cramer's bank account has grown to fifty-five thousand dollars. That's a considerable sum, even in this day and age."

  Astonishment rendered Lacey speechless. Several suspenseful minutes passed before she was able to speak.

  "Did I hear you right? How could anyone be that rich?"

  "Taylor Cramer was a resourceful man, and a canny one when it came to business. His lawyer can tell you more than I. You will have no financial worries in the future, young lady."

  Markle left the room for a moment and returned with the money and bank draft Lacey had requested. He counted out fifteen hundred dollars in her palm and she left the bank in a daze. She was still in a daze when she entered the tax office and produced the bank draft to pay her taxes in full. The clerk handed her a receipt and extended his condolence for her late husbands death. Lacey didn't want condolences, she wanted her son.

  Sheriff Hale intercepted Lacey as she left the tax office. "Your buggy is in front of the jailhouse, ma'am. One of my deputies drove it from the church for you."

  "Thank you, Sheriff. I'd like to see Sam before I return home. Is that possible?"

  "It's all right with me. I need to ask you a fe
w questions before you return home anyway."

  Lacey followed Hale to the jailhouse. He held the door open for her and she stepped inside. "He's in one of the holding cells," Hale said, directing her down a passageway. Call out if you need me."

  Lacey walked down the passage and ran into a row of cells. Only one was occupied. Sam must have seen her coming for he clung to the bars, his expression anxious.

  "Lacey, thank God you came. How is Cramer?"

  "He's dead, just like you intended," Lacey said on a sob. "How could you, Sam? Didn't Rusty tell you that Taylor was holding Andy hostage? Why did you have to take the law into your own hands? Why didn't you let me handle it my way?"

  "I admit that I left the ranch in a rage. I was prepared to do anything short of murder to stop the wedding. I don't kill men in cold blood."

  "If you didn't kill Taylor, who did?"

  "Damned if I know, but I did get off a shot at him. We shot simultaneously, that's why only one report was heard. I wish there was some way to convince Sheriff Hale of my innocence."

  Lacey was halfway convinced that Sam was guiltless. But a tiny degree of doubt still lingered.

  "Lacey," Sam said earnestly, "you know I'd do nothing to harm my son. Why would I kill Cramer when he was the only one who could tell us where to find Andy?"

  "I'm so confused," Lacey whispered. "I don't know where to look for Andy and I'm at my wit's end. Marrying Taylor was my only hope of seeing my son again."

  Sam reached through the bars and cupped her cheek. "I knew why you'd agreed to marry Cramer the moment I learned he held Andy hostage. I wanted to reach the church before you married the bastard."

  "It was already too late when you arrived. I was Taylor's wife at the time of the shooting."

  "You're his heir," Sam said thoughtfully. "My God, Lacey, do you know what that means? Your ranch is safe now. You can pay your taxes. And you have money to hire trained detectives to find our son."

  Lacey swallowed painfully. "I already thought of that and withdrew money from the bank to pay the taxes. As for Taylor's other assets, I care nothing for them."