Almost an Outlaw

by Patricia Preston

  “Oh my God!” Darcy gasped. “He killed her?”

  “Yes, ma’am. According to what I was told, and I ain’t repeating none of the ugly details of what he did to her, but it was him. Heard he admitted as much before he swung.”

  She touched the welt on her wrist. The man had definitely been capable of killing. She had seen that in his face, but to think he had killed a defenseless girl. Her gaze moved across the corral to where Austin guided his horse and talked to Matt. “Who hung Gabriel Wallace?”

  “The sheriff says it was vigilantes,” Henry answered. Then, with a wink, he said, “Last night, Miss Luellen closed her house for the first time ever. Them sporting gals got their revenge, I’d say. Molly’s soul can rest easy now.”

  She nodded. “I’m glad of that,” she said, relieved that Gabriel Wallace would never hurt another woman or any of her family in his quest to claim the reward offered for her cousins.

  When the riding lesson was over, Austin led Midnight Dancer to the gate. He tied her there and lifted Matt out of the saddle. “Here you go,” he said as he helped Matt get on his crutches. He strode through the corral gate, his steps slow as Matt used his crutches to walk alongside him.

  “How’d I do?” Matt asked.

  Henry gave Matt a proud slap on the back. “You did good, boy. Rode as fine as any cowboy I know.”

  “Mr. Cade says I have a way with horses.” Matt looked up, his eyes bright and eager.

  “You do.” Austin smiled. “I didn’t expect to find her in such good shape. There’s not a professional hostler in Kentucky who could do a better job than you grooming a horse.”

  Matt dug a piece of carrot out of his pocket and gave it to the mare. He rubbed her nose. “Mr. Cade, I could look after her for you,” he blurted out and Darcy sighed, saddened by his desperate attempt to keep the horse. “You know I’d do a good job. I’d treat her like she was my own.”

  “He knows that, son,” Henry said. “But he’s got to take her back to his ranch in Texas.”

  Matt turned to Austin. “Can we go with you, sir? I’ll work hard and I’ll make a good stable boy and Henry’s good at doing stuff too, when his knees ain’t hurting.”

  “Boy,” Henry scolded him slightly. “We got a home here, son. We can’t go with Mr. Cade.”

  “It’s not our house and it’s falling in. Besides, all you talk about is heading out West and starting over.”

  “Aw, that’s just an old man’s foolish dream.”

  “No, it ain’t. Mr. Cade said he’s got a big ranch with over two hundred horses and I ain’t never seen a real ranch. Never seen a canyon either. I want to go, Henry.”

  “What in tarnation has happened to your manners? We can’t just invite ourselves to go with him.”

  For the first time, Austin chuckled. His smile wiped away the harshness of his features. Matt turned to him, his eyes bright and eager. “Can we go with you?”

  Austin looked from the boy to the old man and Darcy wondered what he was going to do. Surely he would find a way to say no kindly. Instead, he nodded agreeably and spoke to Henry. “I can always use a couple of good hands. If you’re interested.”

  “He’s interested!” Matt insisted.

  Henry’s wrinkles deepened when he frowned. “You don’t know if I’m interested or not, boy. I’ve been here all my life.”

  “A hundred years is too long to stay in one place,” Matt said, and Austin laughed again. Darcy found herself thinking she would love to see him laugh more often.

  “I ain’t no hundred.” Henry strutted around like an old rooster. “But you’re right about this old place. It is falling in and it ain’t ours”

  “I want to go.” Matt swung back and forth on his crutches.

  “It has been on my mind for a long time to leave here,” Henry conceded with a wide grin. “I reckon we might as well,” he said, and Matt let out a whoop. “A fresh start’s always a good thing.”

  “Yeah, it is.” Austin gave her a pointed look when he spoke. Her lashes swept low, masking the regret in her eyes.

  “I planned to leave in the morning,” Austin told Henry. “If that’s too soon, you can catch up with me in Wichita.”

  “We can be ready by morning,” Matt put in. “Heck, we ain’t got nothing much to pack.”

  Quiet, Darcy listened to the men make plans for the trip. Henry caught Matt’s enthusiasm. They asked Austin a dozen questions about Texas and his ranch. Austin assured them they would love it at his ranch. He promised Matt a room in the main house and said he would be expected to do school lessons along with his chores. He was also going to be in charge of grooming and taking care of the mare and her future colts.

  For Matt, it was like the Christmas he had never had.

  Henry glanced at Darcy. “Miz Branson, we’ll sure miss you.”

  “I’ll miss you too.” She tried not to choke up. It was a good resolution. Henry and Matt were moving to a better place. “You will take care of yourself. You promise?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Henry gave her a hug and she sniffled.

  For the first time, Matt’s smile disappeared. He made his way to her side. She gave him a kiss on the forehead. “You promise you will write me every week?”

  “Y-yes.” He gulped. Suddenly, he wheeled around to Austin. “Can Miss Darcy go too?”

  “No,” Austin answered without hesitation, and his sharp reply stung her as badly as if it had been a slap.

  Of course, she realized the absurdity of her reaction and smothered it quickly beneath a fake smile. “I can’t go, love. I have a business to run. My shop is here and I can’t leave it,” she told Matt. That was the most practical of excuses. One that Matt and Henry both accepted.

  “We need to get back to town,” Austin remarked, his expression bitter.

  “Of course.” Again, she smiled for the benefit of the men and not herself.

  No smile could shelter the growing heartache inside her.

  Chapter Nine

  Back in Liberty, Darcy trailed alongside Austin, her hand resting lightly in the crook of his elbow. She knew he had offered to see her to her shop because it was the well-mannered thing to do, so they were walking together like two polite but distant strangers. She didn’t want to end on such a note.

  “It’s such a lovely spring day,” she commented as the warm breeze swept a fallen dogwood blossom across the street. “Are you coming to Jesse’s wedding tonight?”

  “I promised him I would.”

  They crossed Washington Street and walked down the alley that led the rear of her shop. She sidestepped a stack of boxes behind the general store. On top of a barrel, a tabby cat slept in the sunshine. “Emma and I are going. Would you like to come with us?”

  He shook his head. She wasn’t surprised that he refused. Yet she hadn’t been prepared for the disappointing blow to her heart. “What have I done to offend you so?”

  “It’s not what you did. It’s what you haven’t done.”

  “And that is?” she asked, even though she knew the answer.

  “Last night didn’t change anything. The past has you in its hooks and I can’t rescue you this time.” His jaw tightened as he faced her. “I can’t save you. Not from yourself.” Then his voice flattened as if all hope was lost. “I don’t want a woman who feels she doesn’t deserve another chance in life.”

  Darcy turned away as tears crowded into her eyes.

  “I want my wife and the mother of my children to be a strong woman who believes she is entitled to love and happiness and who wants a future with me.” He spoke with conviction. “That woman is not you.”

  She didn’t make a sound. She didn’t say goodbye as he left her. For a few moments, she stood alone and she felt entitled to nothing. For ages, she had been adrift. Like a ship with no compass. Floating along from day to day. Trying to right her wrongs by kind and generous deeds. But within her heart, her wrongs had never been righted.

  She entered the back door of the shop. Emma was bus
y with a customer so she slipped quietly up the stairs to her living quarters. In her bedroom, she opened her cedar chest, dug beneath a stack of old letters and pulled out a photograph of her and Stephen on their wedding day.

  Now she understood why her wrongs had never been righted.

  She hated Stephen and she hated Amelia. And she had never let go of her hatred for the lovers who had ruined her life. Even though they were dead, she had selfishly clung to her bitterness. She was the one who had been betrayed, the one who had been jealous, the one who had to live with guilt.

  Holding the photograph, she sat in her rocker and ran her finger over Stephen’s image as she silently spoke to him. I never knew. I never understood love until now. I didn’t know how hard it must have been for you and Amelia to be in love and be apart. I realize now you were far more unhappy than I ever knew, and for that, I am sorry.

  She cradled the photograph, and for the first time, she thought kindly of Stephen and Amelia. I truly hope you and Amelia are together in eternity since you could not be together in life. You deserve to be with the one you love. That recognition started healing her heart of its old wounds. It let go of the guilt, the anger and the regret that had marred her life for so long.

  It was time to move forward, to make a future with the man she loved.

  She slipped off her wedding band and she tucked both the photograph and the wedding band in the bottom of the cedar chest, where her past would remain. Flying down the stairs, she felt like a phoenix. One reborn from the ashes of yesterday. She rushed into the front of the store where Emma was dusting the counter.

  “Emma, we’re closing early today,” she announced merrily. “We’re going to look spectacular tonight at the wedding!”

  “We are?” Emma stopped dusting and her jaw dropped as Darcy fetched the emerald gown that was on display. “You’re not going to wear black?”

  “Not anymore,” she answered in a resolute voice. She flipped the Open sign to Closed and handed the emerald gown to Emma. “Take this to the dressing room for me,” she said. “I’ll be right back.” With a smile, she said, “I’m going over to Mr. Hatcher’s bakery to buy a chocolate pie. I want a huge slice!”

  Shortly before nine o’clock that Friday night, Austin strode past the armed guards surrounding the Browder home in Kearny. He was almost late because he’d had second thoughts about attending. He was in no mood for a wedding. Not after walking away from the one woman who should be his wife. But he didn’t feel he had a choice. What he had said to her came directly from his soul. He couldn’t save her. He wanted to. He wished he possessed the kind of magic that could turn back the years to the day she handed him her wildflowers and they shared their first kiss. That pretty girl with the sparkling emerald eyes and the innocent smile was the Darcy he wanted now. He moved to join the guests crowding the parlor, but it wasn’t the packed room that made him feel trapped. It was his own misery. He found a spot to stand at the rear of the crowd. As the Reverend William James, Jesse and Frank’s uncle, began the ceremony, silence swept over the room. He had to lean to the right to see the bride and groom, and his jaw dropped when he saw Darcy standing with Jesse’s family, intently watching the ceremony.

  Instead of her widow weeds, she wore the stunning emerald gown he had seen in her store. The tight-fitting gown dipped low over her shoulders and a sparkling brooch brought attention to the swell of her breasts. Her hair, held back from her face by jeweled combs, tumbled down her back in tight curls. She did look sinfully beautiful and he could not take his eyes off her. He also noticed he wasn’t the only man who was giving her admiring glance. Even Cole, who stood to the left of Frank, grinned at her. He needed to have a talk with Cole later.

  Like many of the women in the stuffy room, she lifted her fan that hung from her wrist and started fanning herself. That was when he noticed her wedding band was gone, replaced by a sparkling emerald ring. If he had been a rooster, he would have crowed.

  She stopped fanning and glanced about the room. As soon as their gazes locked, he saw her hide her flush behind the fan. Well, he was not good at hiding what he wanted, and, as soon as Jesse and Zee were presented to the guests as husband and wife, he shouldered his way through the crowd toward her.

  Darcy felt her heart flutter wildly as he approached. He looked striking in a new charcoal suit. She loved the dark red silk tie knotted around his neck. Actually, there wasn’t much she didn’t love about him, she decided as he took her arm and motioned for her to come with him. Without saying anything, he led her from the parlor. At the end of the hallway, they found an empty bedroom that offered them privacy. He closed the door, shutting out the hum of voices coming from the parlor.

  She expected him to say something about the fact that she wasn’t wearing black. Instead, he pinned her to the door and she didn’t hesitate to rope her arms around his shoulders. Her open lips sought his, eager to give him a slow, long kiss like the ones they had shared in her bed. His arms fastened around her as if he meant to trap her in them forever. Truth was she had been trapped since the moment he walked back into her life.

  She drank in the warmth of his breath as it mixed with hers. His dark hair felt coarse to her fingertips as they sifted through it. She leaned her body into his, wanting more. He groaned as he ripped his mouth from her. “We can’t carry on like this here,” he muttered, his gray eyes filled with regret.

  He was right about that. A disgrace at Jesse’s wedding would not do. She popped open her fan and hoped to fan away her flush. Austin grinned and said, “That won’t help.”

  She kept fanning. “You like the dress?”

  “I like what’s beneath it better.”

  She tapped him on the arm with her fan. Then she became serious. “I thought you’d have more to say.”

  He stroked her cheek with loving care. “You have made me the happiest man on earth.”

  “Oh—” She sighed as a lump formed in her throat. “You’ve made me happy too.”

  He pressed his lips to her forehead.

  She tilted her face. “You will write me every day, won’t you?”

  “Write you?”

  “Yes,” she answered, smoothing the lapels of his jacket. “And promise you’ll come back by summer.”

  “You think I’m leaving here without you?” He sounded as if that was totally absurd.

  Her eyes widened. “Aren’t you planning to leave tomorrow?”

  “I was but I can put it off a few days.” He bracketed his arms above her shoulders. “I’m not leaving you behind, Darcy.” With a teasing smile, he said, “I have a jealous streak and I saw how some of the men were looking at you. Especially Cole.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Cole Younger looks at every woman like that.”

  “I’m not taking any chances. I waited a long time for love.”

  “Love,” she whispered, almost afraid to say the word aloud. “You love me?”

  “Would I be taking you with me if I didn’t?” He brushed his lips over hers. “I have loved since you first looked at me with those huge green eyes. Since you gave me wildflowers and my first kiss.”

  She threw her arms around his neck. “I love you too. More than you can ever know.”

  “Reverend James is still here. No reason why he can’t marry another couple.”

  “Austin!” She laughed at his craziness. “We just can’t up and get married tonight!”

  “Why not?”

  “Well—” She tried to think of why not. “This is not a wedding dress.”

  “There is no way you could ever look any more beautiful that you do right now.”

  His words melted any reservations she had. She couldn’t have said no if her life had depended on it. He cocked his head as he waited for her to agree, and she nodded. “All right.”

  He offered her his arm and a wicked grin. “Afterward, we’ll have some chocolate pie.”

  “I can’t wait!” She leaned in and gave him a soft kiss on his jaw. Then she took his arm and,
on that spring night, Darcy accepted the past and embraced the future as she became Austin’s wife.

  About the Author

  Patricia Preston’s love for storytelling started when she wrote her first short story in the sixth grade. Since then, she has had several stories published and has won the William Faulkner Award for Short Fiction and Harlequin’s World’s Best Romances novella contest. When she is not working on a story or at her job in the medical field, she is catching up on her reading, improving her photography skills, looking for clearance sales or watching movies. Don’t ask her how many times she has seen The Lord of the Rings. You can visit her at her website, www.patricia-preston.com.

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  ISBN: 978-1-4268-9107-6

  Copyright © 2011 by Patricia Robertson

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  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.