The Outlaw Takes a Bride

by Susan Page Davis

  “What if the sheriff’s still not back?” Sally asked.

  “I’ll leave a note to make sure he knows first thing I want to talk to him.”

  Sally sighed. She had a few more days with Johnny at best. Something would change when Fred Jackson heard his story. It was bound to, and they were fooling themselves to pretend it wouldn’t. She would do her best cooking while she had Johnny, and keep the house spotless. She had washed her hair that afternoon. If her husband went to prison, she wanted him to remember her at her best.

  Their drive into town was fruitless, so far as the sheriff was concerned. He wasn’t at his office, and Thad Bollinger hadn’t heard from him.

  “What if he never comes back?” Sally asked when they got back to their wagon.

  “He’s got to come back,” Johnny said.

  “Not if those outlaws get him.”

  Johnny frowned. “Fred Jackson’s a smart man, and he took half-a-dozen men with him. We’ll hear something soon.”

  “Has that man got a family?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Sally looked around at the busy main street. “Someone ought to be caring whether he’s all right.”

  “I’m sure there’s someone. Come on.” Johnny brightened. “Let’s stop at the livery and see if Mr. Benner’s got any likely horses for you.”

  Johnny took a liking to a dainty black mare that stepped high and looked like she had some hackney in her.

  “She could take you around in a buggy, pretty as you please,” the liveryman said.

  Sally frowned at her husband. “We don’t have a buggy, just an old farm wagon. Don’t get me a fancy horse. I may be needing a cow pony. Get me a horse that will work when I need him to.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Johnny said.

  Benner led out a short-coupled, ten-year-old bay mare. “She’s a good cow horse.”

  Johnny got on the mare and rode her out to the street and back.

  “You want to try her, Sal?”

  “I’ve got a sidesaddle you can use,” Benner said.

  “Yes, please.” Sally stroked the mare’s nose and waited while Benner switched the saddles.

  The mare had a smooth trot, and she seemed energetic and willing. When they got back to where Johnny stood, Sally slid to the ground.

  “I like her.”

  “Does she drive?” Johnny asked Benner.

  “She does. In fact, I rented her out to a gentleman Saturday with a buggy. Got no complaints.”

  “How much?” Johnny asked.

  “Sixty dollars.”

  Johnny scratched his head. He surely did look handsome with his new haircut and shave. “You know, we might get a better deal from one of the ranchers. I think Bill Hood might have a mare he’d sell.”

  “Fifty,” Benner said.

  Sally stayed out of it and watched. She had to admit her husband was a good bargainer, at least when it came to horses. When Benner got down to forty-two dollars, Johnny led the mare to their wagon and tied her to the back.

  Then came the bargaining for the sidesaddle, and Sally started to feel a bit uneasy. She pulled Johnny aside while the liveryman was dusting off the second one of two he had available.

  “Why don’t you just get me a stock saddle? He wants too much for those.”

  “No, I can’t have you riding astride. Folks would be scandalized.”

  Sally laughed mirthlessly. “As if we won’t give them any scandal as it is.”

  Johnny winced. “Let me do this. Please? For my bride.”

  “All right, but is this the best place to get a saddle?”

  “It would be more at a saddle maker’s,” Johnny said.

  “What about a catalog? Or my pa might be able to send me one. My old one’s probably still hanging in his barn.”

  “All right, we’ll hold off on the saddle.”

  And so they went home without one. Sally had ridden bareback half the time anyway as a child. No reason she couldn’t do it around the ranch until she was properly outfitted.

  Johnny held Sally’s hand all the way home. Every little while, she looked over her shoulder at the new horse.

  “I’m going to name her Lady.”

  “Suits her,” Johnny said. He bent to kiss her, for about the tenth time since they’d left town.

  Sally smiled up at him afterward. “What if those outlaws came along now, and you weren’t paying any attention?”

  “Guess we’d die happy.” But he straightened after that and paid more mind to the road ahead.

  Sally cuddled against his side and squeezed his hand. She would make sure he got plenty of kisses after they got home.

  CHAPTER 23

  Nearly a week had passed since their visit to the minister when Sheriff Jackson finally rode out to the Paynter ranch. Johnny was outside working on the brick oven he was building for Sally as the sheriff’s red roan jogged into the barnyard.

  “Howdy, Mark.” Jackson dismounted and let his horse’s reins trail. “Working hard in spite of the heat, I see.”

  “That’s partly why I’m doing it.” Johnny reached for the shirt he had discarded an hour earlier. “Making Sally an oven, so she can cook out here and not heat up the house.”

  “I’m sure she’ll appreciate that. I heard you wanted to see me.”

  “Yeah.” Now that he was here, Johnny wasn’t sure how to start.

  “Does it have something to do with that ranch hand of yours?” Jackson asked.

  “You mean Cam? No.”

  “Oh.” Jackson frowned. “I got some news from Denver while I was gone. Thought it might interest you.”

  Johnny’s mouth went dry.

  “Is Combes here?” Jackson looked around the barnyard.

  “No. Come in and have some lemonade? Sally manages to keep it halfway cool.”

  “Sounds good.”

  They walked to the cabin. The door was wide open. Johnny yelled, “Sally! The sheriff’s here.” He mounted the steps and entered the dim main room.

  “Hello, Sheriff.” Sally came from the kitchen area, wiping her hands on her apron.

  “Howdy, Miz Paynter.”

  “Did you catch those outlaws?” she asked.

  “I’m sorry to say we didn’t. Tracked Flynn and his gang a long ways, and then we lost ’em.” He smiled apologetically. “I need to talk to your husband, though.”

  Sally gazed at Jackson then back at Johnny.

  “You got any lemonade left?” Johnny asked, though he knew she did. She’d kept a batch mixed up and down the well since his last trip to town.

  “I’ll get it. Sit right down, Sheriff.”

  When she was outside, Johnny pulled out a chair for the sheriff and plopped down across the table from him. “You said you heard from Denver?”

  “That’s right.” Jackson took a folded sheet of paper from the pocket of his vest and opened it. He laid it in front of Johnny. “This telegram. I’d sent to the marshal up there, you see, just checking up on that brother of yours.”

  Johnny stared down at the printed words. John Paynter cleared. Now looking for Cameron Combes. Slater.

  He inhaled carefully, as if any disturbance would change the words before him.

  “Slater being the marshal?” he asked.

  “That’s right. I expect I’ll get more information by post, but I thought I’d save him some trouble by making sure Combes was still here. Odd how you haven’t heard from your brother, but the man they’re looking for in Colorado is right here in Beaumont.”

  Johnny’s stomach felt a bit odd, and he doubted he could drink the lemonade. Sally seemed to be taking her time getting it, and he was glad she hadn’t returned yet.

  “Is he saying Cam’s the one who killed the person they thought… ?”

  “I’m not sure. But they’re looking for him. Why didn’t you tell me he was from up that way?”

  Johnny shook his head, wondering where to start. “I didn’t think it mattered.”

  “This got me thinking,�
�� Jackson said soberly. “Maybe Combes knows something about your brother. Have you asked him? Could be he’s not being straight with you.”

  “Sheriff, I—”

  Sally came in, carrying a stoneware jug. Jackson picked up the telegram and folded it.

  “Sally knows all about what I wanted to tell you,” Johnny said. “And I was wrong. It does have to do with Cam. Sort of. But we don’t know where he is now.” He put his elbows on the table, clasped his hands, and leaned his forehead against them for a moment.

  “Something happen here?” Jackson asked, shooting a glance at Sally.

  She had poured out the lemonade and brought over two glasses.

  “Here you go, Sheriff. It’s no warmer than our well water, and that’s pretty warm. I wish we had some ice.”

  “Don’t worry about that, ma’am. But what is all this about the hired man?”

  Sally frowned. “Cam? Not much, except my husband told him to leave last week.”

  Jackson focused on Johnny again. “Why was that?”

  Johnny took a deep breath. “He was bothering Sally. But that’s not why I left you the message, Sheriff. There’s a lot more to it than that.”

  Jackson picked up his glass and sipped his lemonade. “That’s good stuff, Mrs. Paynter.”

  Sally smiled. “Thank you. I know you two have a lot to discuss. I’ll go out to the garden patch.” She laid her hand on Johnny’s shoulder for a moment. “Just call me in if you need me for anything.”

  He nodded, unable to meet her gaze. She went out and closed the door.

  Jackson leaned toward him. “All right, Mark, spill it. What happened here?”

  Sally pulled all the weeds out of the garden and pulled up the dead plants from their spring harvest. They wouldn’t plant the fall garden for a month or more, but she did everything she could to prepare the ground. She wished she had started a wash or something else she could do out here. She wandered around to the front of the cabin.

  The sheriff’s horse had browsed its way a hundred yards down the road. She went after it. The roan let her approach, and she was able to pick up a trailing rein without alarming the animal. She led it back to the corral. Reckless nickered and came over to say hello. Maybe she should unsaddle the roan. A glance toward the house told her nothing. With a sigh, she opened the gate and turned the sheriff’s horse out with Reckless and Lady. At the last moment, she decided to take off its bridle, so none of the horses could step on the reins.

  This compromise left her feeling better, and she hung the bridle over the gatepost. Now what?

  The cabin door opened, and Johnny came out. The sheriff followed, fitting his hat on as he walked.

  “I acted too soon, fella,” Sally said to the roan, who was sniffing about, hoping to find some grass. “Guess we’ll have to put your bit back in.”

  Johnny walked toward her, but the sheriff lingered near the well.

  “We’re going to walk up the hill,” Johnny said when he reached her. “I’m going to show him Mark’s grave. Do you want to come?”

  “What did he say? Is he going to arrest you?”

  “No. He believes me. But he thinks… He thinks Cam may be in that Colorado business up to his neck.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “They’ve cleared me, Sally. Jackson says they must have new evidence. He doesn’t have all the details, but the marshal up there is looking for Cam. Jackson says it could be Cam killed Red Howell and then told me the men on the outfit thought I’d done it, so that I’d run away with him. It kind of makes sense. I told Cam I had a brother in Texas, and he figured this would be a good place for him to go. Nobody could connect him with Mark, and if I brought him here, it might be a good place for him to hide for a while.”

  Sally stared at him. “You mean that man was a murderer all along? And he—” She felt a little woozy, remembering Cam’s fingers on her neck.

  Johnny seized her arms and held on to her. “You all right?”

  She nodded.

  “You need to sit?”

  “No. No, I—Johnny, did you tell Sheriff Jackson what he did? Here, I mean.”

  Johnny’s eyes went hard. “I told him that I heard you scream and when I went in the house, he had his hands on you.” His grip on her arms softened. “I’m so sorry I didn’t listen when you first told me he made you uncomfortable.”

  Sally’s mind reeled. So many times Johnny had ridden off and left her here alone. Cam could have attacked her any time he wanted. She supposed he had held off out of respect for his friend. But how respectful had he really been to Johnny? His words last week implied he didn’t think Johnny was much of a man. Did he know they hadn’t consummated their marriage? She didn’t think Johnny would tell that to anyone. It was difficult for him to talk about anything personal. But Cam might have weaseled it out of him. To hear Johnny tell it, Cam had been pretty much in control of their flight and their arrangements once they got here. Cam had persuaded him to take Mark’s identity. Cam had convinced him that he had to marry her. All the time he’d been with Johnny, Cam had held the hangman’s noose over him.

  “He could have killed us and claimed he’d bought the ranch,” she said.

  “I…I don’t think…” Johnny looked away. “Guess I don’t know what he’s capable of. But we don’t know for sure that he killed Red Howell.”

  “But that’s why Cam brought you here. To get himself to a safe place without you suspecting. Isn’t that what the sheriff thinks?”

  After a moment’s hesitation, Johnny said, “It’s possible.”

  Sally took a deep breath. “Right. Let’s show him the grave, then.”

  Johnny took her hand, and they walked back to where Jackson waited.

  “I took your horse’s bridle off,” she said.

  “Thanks. You coming along with us?”

  “Yes.”

  The men walked quickly, and Sally was winded by the time they reached the cross. They all stood gazing at it in silence. Sheriff Jackson pulled his hat off, and Johnny followed suit.

  “Sally and I decided we’ll get a stone marker made,” Johnny said. “It’s a real shame, what they did to him.”

  “And you’re sure it wasn’t Combes?”

  “Absolutely. He was with me the whole trip, and we didn’t separate that last day to hunt or anything.”

  “You didn’t hear the gunfire?”

  Johnny shook his head. “We must have come along a couple hours after them, is all I can figure. We got here midday—past noon, I reckon.”

  “They probably hit the ranch at dawn,” Jackson said. “They got into town around eight o’clock. Some of the stores weren’t open yet. Frank Simon was just unlocking the grocery.”

  “Mark was up and dressed when they hit.” Johnny sighed. “I hope he got off a shot or two. There weren’t any guns here. I figure they took ’em. And his horses.”

  “What else?” Jackson asked.

  “A lot of his foodstuffs. And there was hardly a penny nor a bullet around the place. They got what they came for.”

  “I expect you’re right.”

  “Sheriff, if you go after that gang again, I’d like to ride with you,” Johnny said.

  “If they set foot in this county again, I’ll be after them. Counting your brother, they’ve killed three people in my jurisdiction—that I know of.”

  “Mark was a good man,” Sally said, tears clogging her throat.

  “I wish I’d known him better.”

  Sally eyed Jackson from under the brim of her bonnet. Probably best to leave well enough alone, but she wanted his assurance. “You’re letting Johnny get on with his life, Sheriff?”

  “The way I see it, he’s not guilty of anything except maybe poor judgment.”

  Johnny cleared his throat. “He said he doesn’t think a court would find me guilty of any crimes for not reporting Mark was dead.”

  “A lot of people die out here without getting a death certificate. And you’d be surprised how many
people change their names.” Sheriff Jackson put his hat on. “Now, you folks tell me if Combes shows his face again.”

  “We will,” Sally said.

  Jackson nodded and clapped Johnny on the shoulder. “I’ll expect to see you in church every Sunday or know the reason why.”

  “I’ll be there,” Johnny said.

  “Wait!” Sally plucked at the sheriff’s sleeve. “What will we tell folks in town?”

  “I’ll put it about that Mark’s passed on and his brother’s living at the ranch. You’ll have to tell people you’re close with.”

  “Nobody seems to have known Mark real well,” Johnny said.

  Jackson nodded. “He was quiet, kept to himself. Now that you’ve shaved, you don’t look as much like him. I didn’t notice at first because I wasn’t looking for a change. That’s not good for a lawman, but it’s the truth. Most folks will be hazy on when the switch happened. The people at church know you got married recently, though.”

  “Pastor Lewis knows all about it,” Sally said.

  “So Johnny told me. Maybe he can help out with telling the people at church. I think they’d be an understanding bunch, if it comes to telling the whole story. But I doubt you’ll have to. Just quit calling yourself Mark.” He looked sternly at Johnny, who nodded. “Oh, and you’ll have to straighten things out at the bank. When you’re in town next, let me know, and I’ll go over there with you and vouch for you.”

  “Thanks, Sheriff,” Johnny said.

  “I’m Fred. If I ever have call to arrest you, you can call me Sheriff. But don’t let that happen.”

  Johnny nodded and put his hat on. They walked down the hill slowly, with Johnny holding Sally’s hand. Already she was planning how to get it across to Liz that her husband was Mark’s brother, not Mark, but they didn’t want a lot of gossip about it. Liz would help, she was sure.

  When they got to the corral, Jackson bridled his horse and brought him out through the gate and checked his cinch strap.

  “All right, folks, best of luck to you.” He swung up into the saddle. “I’ll let you know if I find out more about the Howell murder.”

  Jackson rode out, and they stood together, watching his roan until it rounded the bend. Johnny let out a big breath.