Wilda's Outlaw

by Velda Brotherton

  Then she turned to the deputy, positioning herself so he had to look away from Wilda to pay attention to her. And he definitely wanted to pay attention to her. His expression and body language proved that.

  “Aren’t you just the sweetest thing. Here, have another candy. Let me.” Rachel held a chocolate drop daintily to his lips and smiled up into his face.

  Trembling so hard she feared knocking the keys to the floor, Wilda managed to finger them from the hook. He surely must hear her heart hammering in her chest, but the deputy paid her no mind. Clearly, he was enjoying being flirted with.

  The door creaked when Wilda pushed it open and she cringed, but kept going. The only way this would work would be to hurry, and get her part done while Rachel all but offered her body to the flummoxed deputy.

  The cell was gloomy, and for a moment she could only see shadows. Quickly, she found the padlock and tried three keys before one worked. By the time the lock snapped open, she was perspiring and biting at her lips.

  “What—” Calder stared at her.

  “Hush, now. Come on, hurry.”

  “Wilda? What are you doing? No.”

  “You come on out of there now before Rachel gets found out. Both of you.”

  Though they whispered, she was terrified that at any moment the deputy would come up behind her and snap on the cuffs. The storm, now a constant rumbling, covered any sound they might have made.

  “You don’t understand,” Calder said.

  “I know. You don’t love me. We’ll talk about it later. Will you come on?”

  Smith was the one who finally got Calder to moving. While Rachel wiped a bit of chocolate from the deputy’s lips and offered it to him on the end of her finger, they tiptoed behind his back and slipped out the door.

  Into the pouring rain they ran.

  “The wagon is up there.” Wilda pointed.

  “I’ll get it.” Smith took off at a run, his figure soon disappearing into the heavy downpour.

  “What about Rachel?” Calder asked, refusing to meet Wilda’s gaze.

  About that time a woman screamed. Shots were fired. Then all was quiet.

  “Rachel. My God, did he shoot her?”

  “I don’t think so. That wasn’t in her plan, anyway.”

  Here she came, appearing out of the thick rain, drenched and laughing. The wagon arrived and they all piled in.

  “Go the other direction,” she shouted above the tumult of the storm.

  Smith obeyed, hauling the reins around so that Jeb headed back the way they’d come.

  “Who got shot? Who screamed?” Wilda cried above the commotion.

  “I screamed, sent the deputy the other way. I think he shot at his own imagination.”

  Wilda collapsed in nervous laughter, arms around Rachel. “I can’t believe it worked. It was so easy, except I thought I was going to have an attack of the palsy or something.”

  “You? I was shaking so hard feeding him that candy I almost threw up on him.”

  “I oughta have your hide, the both of you,” Calder grumbled.

  Again, they hugged each other and laughed.

  “Where are we going?” Smith hollered. “I can’t see a damn thing.”

  “There’s an old abandoned homestead a few miles out of town, and back off the road a ways. We left the horses there.”

  Finally, she spotted the dilapidated house and the few trees clustered around it, and then the old well curb. “This is it.”

  “We can’t stay here long,” Smith said.

  “You get the horses and we’ll go to Margaret’s and pick up the children.”

  Smith hopped down and Calder moved into his place, taking up the reins. Wilda climbed over the seat and sat next to him. Rain drizzled down the back of her dress, plastering it to her body, leaving nothing to his imagination. In the cold and wet, her nipples stood out like pearls against the thin cloth of the dress.

  He swallowed any further comment, licked water from his lips, and smacked the reins on Jeb’s hips. “Come on, girl. Giddup.” Wilda and Rachel had guts enough for him and Smith both.

  What was she going to say when she learned that Governor Osborn had issued amnesty for all outlaws? He wasn’t about to tell her yet. It was more fun running to freedom as if the hounds of hell pursued them. Making love to her would likely be as wild as the flight itself, if she ever spoke to him again.

  Chapter Twenty

  In the small, cozy kitchen, Rachel’s friend Margaret passed around towels to the sodden group. Everyone chattered like it was a party. No one mentioned the wagon and horses hidden in the nearby livery stable, nor the stealthy return to Margaret’s under the cover of the dark storm.

  “These are friends of mine,” Rachel had announced, and Margaret opened her door with no question.

  Gaze on Wilda, Calder rubbed at his wet hair. The tilt of her head as she tended to her own locks reminded him of a painting he’d once seen over a bar in a saloon in Kansas City. Drenched fabric caressed the sensual curve of her breasts when she raised her arms and fingered a long pin from her loosening bun. Red hair tumbled down her back like a waterfall. His imagination soared. Lying with her, removing the wet dress, kissing away the rain. Oops, better be careful or his own wet clothes would reveal his desires.

  She caught him watching and smiled so sweetly his gut lurched. He felt like a blamed fool. With what was going on, still all he could think of was bedding her then and there. In front of Smith and Margaret and Rachel and the kids, who were having a grand time dodging their mother’s attempts to dry their waterlogged clothes. To focus his mind elsewhere, he grabbed John Mark and toweled him down while tickling him till he squealed with delight.

  Soon he’d attempt to explain to Wilda why he’d said all those hurtful things to her back at the jail. It was only because of her and Rachel that he was no longer in that terrible place. Either she hadn’t believed him or did it for Rachel’s sake. The only two women who meant a thing to him were here in this room, both beautiful beyond words. He wanted to hug and kiss them both, but for different reasons. Wanted to promise them he would not fail them again. That his old life was behind him forever. Margaret’s chatter brought him back to the present.

  “Whenever you’re dry, let’s all go into the parlor where it’s more comfortable. I’ll make us some coffee.”

  “Miss Wilda, what became of your young friend?” Smith asked.

  “She returned to Fairhaven. Seems she has some ties there.”

  He nodded, then glanced at Calder. “I’m going down to the livery. Looks as if we could use another packhorse. I’ll get what I can for your wagon, Missus.” He glanced quickly at Rachel, then away. Casting another glance toward Wilda, he slipped out the door without waiting for a reply.

  Calder watched him disappear into the darkness of the storm. Clearly, Smith expected that the three of them would be on the run together, and soon.

  Rachel herded the children into the other room, Wilda just behind them, followed by Calder, who touched her shoulder. The contact sent a jolt through him.

  “Thank you for what you did,” he said.

  “It was Rachel’s idea.”

  “Well, all the same, I appreciate it. You could’ve been hurt.” He bit his lip so as not to mention the amnesty. She would be upset if she learned that her and Rachel’s effort to break him out might have been unnecessary. Though, when it came right down to it, he didn’t believe Sheriff Calumet would honor the amnesty as far as he was concerned. The man had a real burr up his butt when it came to Baron, Deke and himself. He didn’t much blame him, the gang had wreaked havoc with law enforcement in the county for a long while.

  “Would the children like a cookie?” Margaret asked, bustling in with a tray loaded with cups and saucers, sugar and cream, a plate of cookies and a pot of coffee.

  “Yay!” Mary Louise shouted. Then, seeing her mother’s gaze, bobbed her head and said, “Yes, thank you.”

  Elizabeth Ann, ever the shyest, hung back, on
e finger in her mouth, until Margaret gave two more to Mary Louise and told her to give the younger children each one.

  Elizabeth took hers, murmured, “Thank you.” John Mark grabbed the cookie in a pudgy hand and stuck it in his mouth, bringing laughter from everyone.

  A sadness filled Calder’s heart. He’d likely never see Rachel and these wonderful kids again.

  “Did you all hear the commotion earlier today?” Margaret asked, pouring coffee.

  When she brought up the subject, they all stared, mesmerized into silence. She seemed not to notice and continued with her tale.

  “First two outlaws tried to rob the bank and got themselves killed for their trouble, then it wasn’t any time till two men they were holding in jail waiting for a trial, just walked out right under the eyes of a deputy.”

  Calder’s gruff reply covered Rachel’s and Wilda’s flurry of exclamations.

  “Does anyone know who they were? The ones who got killed robbing the bank?” No need to ask. He knew. But the question turned the talk from his and Smith’s escape.

  Wilda took his arm. “Let’s sit down first. I’m afraid it’s bad news.”

  He let her lead him to the divan where she sank beside him. He caught her glance and shook his head no. If she told him here in front of Margaret, then that would put the woman at risk for taking an outlaw under her roof. His being here threatened the safety of everyone in the room. He tensed, as if to stand.

  Wilda’s grip held him back. She glanced at Margaret, hesitated. “You mean they walked right out of the jail?” She squeezed Calder’s hand and nodded in understanding. Her avoiding the subject of the bank robbers told him what he’d not wanted to hear. Baron and Deke were dead. Something they dare not discuss in front of Margaret.

  Too bad. Baron just never did have good sense. And he’d miss the quiet Deke. They’d chosen their path, one he’d almost taken himself. But all the same, their death’s saddened him.

  “Yep, walked right out,” Margaret said. “Deputy claimed they somehow busted the lock and overpowered him. Took off into the storm. Sheriff Calumet was fit to be tied. He got up a few men who’d helped out earlier on the bank robbery. Someone claimed they saw the two outlaws riding out of town headed southwest. That posse rode hell bent for leather after them.”

  Rachel lifted wide, innocent eyes. “I’ll bet the sheriff is gonna have that deputy’s hide, letting prisoners go that way. I wonder how it happened.”

  Margaret laughed. “Poor Jake never had the mettle to be a lawman. He’s a nephew to Calumet is all the reason he’s there. Calumet will have a fit, but he won’t do anything to the boy. Heaven only knows when this is going to end, but this town has always been an exciting and dangerous place to live. Now a bank robbery and a jail break, all in one day. I reckon such nonsense will come to an end soon though, what with Governor Osborn’s issuing his amnesty and all.”

  “Amnesty?” Wilda asked, fingers loosening on Calder’s arm.

  “Oh, yes. It’s all over town.”

  “Just what does it mean?” Wilda and Rachel asked in unison, staring at Calder.

  He lifted his shoulders, tried to act like he knew nothing about any of this. Women always knew when a man was lying, though, and there’d be hell to pay later.

  Unaware of the undercurrent, Margaret offered him more coffee and he took it, gulping the black liquid down quickly. A fortification of sorts. But he would keep his mouth shut and let Margaret explain.

  When all the cups were refilled, she did just that. “Any outlaws who come in and sign an agreement to leave the state and never return will be allowed to go free, with a few exceptions, of course. Like mad-dog killers.”

  “When did the sheriff learn of this?” Wilda’s fingers tightened around Calder’s until he grimaced.

  “This morning, down at the depot. A wire. That’s when the rumor raced around town like a wildfire. Someone was there when the wire came in from the capital.”

  “Did you know?" Wilda’s stare directed at Calder was accusatory.

  He shook his head, and she covered her mouth with one hand. Not a great idea for Margaret to find out who she was serving coffee to. They’d need to get out of here, and soon. At least now he could ask her to go with him, if she ever forgave him for not mentioning the amnesty.

  “Oh, I’m going to miss the children so much when you go home to St. Louis, Rachel,” Margaret said. She glanced at him and Wilda. “We used to pick up her and the children on Sunday and take them to church with us. But I’m so happy that she’s finally getting the chance to return home to her parents. Children should be with their grandparents.” Her eyes grew dreamy and sad and she ruffled Elizabeth’s fine golden hair.

  Exactly his feelings. With the subject changed, he drew a sigh of relief. Margaret’s words and expression prompted him to lift Wilda’s hand to his lips. Too many people let life slip by them without grabbing what they wanted. And he wanted this woman. Though her eyes had a certain spark in them, she let him keep her hand. Maybe she’d forgive him by the time they’d been married a few years.

  What would happen if he tossed her on a horse and kidnapped her one last time? Didn’t wait for her to say yay or nay or put up any sort of argument?

  “Rachel,” Margaret said. “You and the children may as well stay here with me until time for you to leave. I can take you to the depot in our buggy.”

  “Thank you.” Rachel looked from Wilda to him. “What are the two of you going to do?”

  He squeezed her hand and she squeezed back. “Looks like we’ll be leaving Kansas,” she said and laughed. When she leaned her head against his shoulder, his throat swelled with emotion. It was all he could do to keep from grabbing her up and swinging her round and round, yelling “Yahoo!”

  Margaret regarded them with surprise. “Oh, that’s too bad. Do you have to leave? I imagine this town will tame down some after the amnesty. We could use fine young couples like the two of you.”

  Without answering, he rose. “You know, I’m getting worried about Smith. I think I’d better go check on him.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Wilda said.

  Without commenting, he headed for the door.

  “It’s still pouring out there,” Margaret said. “Why don’t you stay here, dear?” she asked Wilda. “No use in you both getting drowned. I’m sure the men will return shortly.”

  Head down, Calder wrenched open the door. When he tried to pull it closed, Wilda stood behind him. “I said I’m going with you.” She shoved him outside and closed the door behind the both of them.

  He dragged her along the boardwalk to the shelter of a nearby store roof, then threw his arms around her.

  She stiffened and pushed away. “Wait. First I need you to tell me, did you know about the amnesty when we broke you out?”

  “Well, I’d heard them talking, but I didn’t really believe it. Besides, you and Rachel were so serious and involved, I didn’t want to interrupt.” He laughed.

  Water dripping from her hair into her eyes, she hammered on his chest with both fists. “That isn’t in the least bit humorous.”

  “Calumet doesn’t think so either,” he said, catching up her hands and kissing them both. “He’s not very happy with the governor. I’m sure he was looking forward to hanging me. Left up to him, we wouldn’t have waited for the judge and a trial. He may not yet.”

  “You mean he could still carry out his threat to hang you? Is there really a danger he’ll go ahead with his plans and ignore the governor’s edict?”

  “It’s very possible.”

  “Surely he can’t do that.”

  “After what happened today he may not care what he can and can’t do. That was Baron and Deke who pulled the holdup, wasn’t it?”

  She nodded. “I’m truly sorry, I know how you felt about them.”

  “They killed that poor woman, didn’t they?”

  She nodded her head like a puppet.

  Were those tears on her face, or simply raindrops?
Swallowing hard, he went on. “He’ll paint me with the same brush, and Smith too.”

  “Oh, no. Please don’t say that. What are we going to do?”

  Despite his despair his heart swelled when she said “we” like that. Even so, he couldn’t let her get any more involved. Calumet didn’t need to ever find out she’d played a part in breaking him out of jail. Once Rachel was safely on the train, maybe he could keep them both out of this, somehow. It didn’t sound like that deputy wanted to own up to being tricked by two women.

  He cupped her face in both hands. “I’m going to find Smith and warn him so he can ride out. I want you to go back to Margaret’s and stay there.”

  “No, I want to go with you.”

  Thunder roared and a gust of wind drove sheets of rain beneath the roof. He pulled her back against the building and wrapped both arms around her. Her heart beat against his chest, the warmth of her body soaked through his wet shirt and she clung to him.

  “There’s no danger to either of us if you let me go with you. Rachel will be long gone when the posse returns. And we can be too. Simple.”

  Yes, she made it sound simple. The words he wanted to say choked him. All he could do was hold her and wish things had been different. This had to stop, now. And he knew exactly how to put an end to it. If he gave himself up, the sheriff would be satisfied. Rachel and Wilda would be safe. Finally, he let his arms slip from around her, pulled from her grip and backed out of her reach.

  “I love you,” he said. “Be safe.”

  A flash of lightning revealed the sorrow written on her features, then it was dark again, and he ran before he could change his mind.

  She shouted for him to come back, but the storm swallowed up her cries.

  Head down, he angled across the muddy street toward the livery to warn Smith he still had time to get away. Every step he took he ached to turn, call her. Dammit, he couldn’t drag her into a life on the run, and Calumet wouldn’t give up till he had him. As part of the gang, he was responsible for that poor woman’s death at the bank today, and the sheriff would make sure he paid. The governor’s amnesty would mean nothing. He could always say he shot Calder before he received the message, he could even claim Calder was in on the robbery. That would clinch it. No one from the governor’s office would even bother to investigate further.