Abbie's Outlaw

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Abbie's Outlaw Page 23

by Victoria Bylin


  “This is a last resort,” John said. “I’m going to send Abbie and the kids to Washington. I’ll face Gantry alone—and unarmed.”

  Silas shook his head. “That’s flat-out stupid. Ben’s half crazy. He wants ‘an eye for eye,’ but hurting you isn’t going to bring his boys back. Besides, fair or not, you did your time in Laramie.”

  “I should have hanged.”

  “Well, you didn’t, so get over it,” Silas ordered. “Your daughter needs you, John. You can’t just send her away.”

  “Send who away?” Abbie walked through the doorway, passing from sunshine into the shadows. “It better not be me. And if you think Susanna’s ready to leave, you’re wrong.”

  John didn’t want to scare her, but they had to face the facts. Still holding the gun, he said, “Gantry’s coming. I want you and the kids safe in Washington.”

  To make his point, he slipped the cylinder into the frame and snapped the ejector rod into place. Abbie came up behind him and touched his shoulder. “We need to make this decision together.”

  John’s blood turned cold. “It’s not safe, especially for Susanna. This is my call.” He was sorry to be highhanded, but he didn’t have a choice, so he added a glare to his arsenal.

  Abbie let go of his arm but didn’t take her eyes off his face. “There’s more at stake than Susanna’s safety, but I didn’t come out here to argue with you. I came to see Silas.”

  She took the older man’s hand in both of hers. “I can’t thank you enough for bringing my daughter home, Mr. Jones.”

  “The pleasure was all mine. She’s a fine young lady. And please, call me Silas.”

  As Abbie released his hand, he pointed to the stool he’d been occupying. “Have a seat. I’m fond of your girl. If I can help you folks at all, I’d be glad.”

  Abbie perched on the stool. “Right now she’s sound asleep. We talked some, but she needs to get her bearings before she hears the whole story. What bothers me the most is Robert’s file. She’s convinced it’s true.”

  John grunted. “It is.”

  “Don’t be a fool,” Silas said. “She knows half the story. It’s up to you to finish it. Give her time.”

  “Damn it!” John slammed his fist on the workbench. A can of nails rattled like bones. “We don’t have time! Gantry could be in town right now.”

  He had seen Abbie startle at the noise and he felt bad for frightening her, but he refused to apologize for the show of temper. She had to understand—his filthy past made him contagious. He wanted her to leave him alone, but instead she stroked his biceps until he looked at her. Their eyes were just inches apart, hers green and lush with life, his as brown as an open grave.

  She reached up and touched his cheek. “I won’t leave you—not ever.”

  But she was a mother, too. John tried to sound matter-of-fact. “A trip to Washington makes sense. You and the kids can pack up your things and say goodbye to your friends. As soon as I can, I’ll join you and we’ll come home together. It’ll be fun.”

  Abbie shook her head. “We don’t need to go back. Maggie can ship what we need. As for the house, it belongs to Robbie so we have to keep it. Maggie can still rent rooms, and we can save for Susanna’s schooling.”

  John admired the plan, but he wasn’t concerned about five years from now or even five months. The next few weeks were critical. If logic wouldn’t persuade Abbie to flee, he’d have to play on her heart. Turning to Silas, he said, “Tell her what happened in Bitterroot.”

  Silas rocked back on his heels. “Gantry saw me with Susanna. He’s hell-bent on revenge. Your husband’s right to be worried.”

  John would have done anything to take the terror out of his wife’s eyes, but what could he do? He had to be true to the man he’d become, but neither could he escape the man he’d been. With the smell of gunpowder in his nose, he looked into his wife’s eyes and made his voice dangerous. “You have to leave, Abbie. It’s for the best and you know it.”

  “What I know is that we took vows.”

  Abbie wandered to the door where a shaft of sunlight made a diamond on the floor. Dust motes glistened like lost stars, and she wondered if her heart would ever stop pounding. Susanna had told her about Ben Gantry’s threat, but Abbie was just as concerned about the state of her daughter’s mind. Every adult in her life had betrayed her trust. Unless she and John could restore Susanna’s faith in the people she loved, suspicion would plague her for the rest of her life.

  Blinking, Abbie flashed on the day she had arrived in Midas, full of worry for her daughter and ready to defend herself against John. Love had softened her heart, and she wanted that wholeness for her daughter.

  And for John, too. If she left with the kids and something awful happened to him, she’d never forgive herself. Nor would Susanna have the answers she needed.

  But the risk… Abbie turned back to John who was wiping the gun with an oily rag. Fear prickled down her spine. She knew John would do everything possible to protect them, but she was just as certain he wouldn’t defend himself against Ben Gantry. She could see it all—Gantry raising a gun and John refusing to defend himself because of his guilt.

  Fury burned through Abbie’s veins. Understandable or not, Gantry’s threats were pure evil. The man had become a bully. Abbie hated bullies—and she’d fight hard before she’d let one steal her happiness. Nor did she want to teach her children to run from trouble. If John wouldn’t defend himself, she’d wage the battle for him.

  He was dry-firing the Colt when she faced him. “You’re not going to like my decision, but the kids and I are staying.”

  John glared in silence, but Silas’s eyes glinted with admiration. “God will see you through, Mrs. Leaf.”

  “I’m counting on it. And please, call me Abbie.”

  “I will from now on, but I like the sound of Mrs. Leaf. I think John does, too.”

  Abbie doubted it, at least at the moment. Her husband had turned his back, so she finished up her business with Silas. “I fixed a room for you at the top of the stairs. If you need anything else, just ask.”

  After nodding his thanks, he excused himself, leaving Abbie alone with John who was screwing the cap back on the gun oil. Without turning, he said, “You’re not going to change your mind, are you?”

  She walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He turned to stone, so she held him tighter, pressing her cheek between his shoulder blades. “It’s going to work out. I know it will.”

  She wanted him to take her in his arms, but instead he reached down and pried her fingers off his waist. “I have work to do.”

  She understood the need to sort his thoughts in private, but she didn’t like it. What had happened to yesterday’s vows? Abbie walked away in silence. He couldn’t make her leave town, but he’d slammed an even heavier door in her face.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Two weeks had passed since Susanna’s arrival, and John felt edgier than ever. Supper had just ended and he’d had another argument with Abbie. He wanted to go to the stream to throw rocks as hard as he could, but he didn’t dare leave the house. Instead he paced to the side of the parsonage where he could melt into the dusk.

  He wanted a cigarette in the worst way—not to mention a shot of whiskey. But those escapes were out of the question. Preparing for Gantry meant staying sharp, just as John had once gotten ready for fights that were far less noble. The problem was Abbie. Every time he tried to talk her into leaving, she gave him the same lecture about standing up to bullies. John didn’t want to hear it, and he’d just told her so.

  But he did want her in his bed…alone in the dark, they’d make love with needs born of fear and hunger. Some encounters were so sweet he ached inside. Others were so naughty that she blushed. Deep down he was childishly grateful she had stayed, but then she would talk about the kids, her new friends, a future that sounded too good to be true and John would turn to stone.

  Leaning on the porch railing, he stretched his neck
to relieve the tension. He was about to go find Silas when he heard Robbie and Susanna in the front yard, playing with the puppy he’d brought home this morning. With its shaggy coat and soulful eyes, the mutt reminded him of Bones. John’s common sense had told him not to do it, that a dog would create another heartbreak, but how could he not reach out to his daughter after yesterday’s talk?

  They had ridden alone to a box canyon where he taught her how to shoot. She was a crack shot and he’d been proud. Afterward they had eaten tamales and talked about everything—her schooling, why Robbie was a brat and finally about Bitterroot and Isaac Leaf. John had spared her the details of Isaac’s demise but not his memories of the shovel. She hadn’t said much on the way home, but he knew he had built a bridge. That’s why he’d brought home the dog. When she wanted to name it Bones, he could almost believe that someday she’d call him Pa.

  He was thinking about how that would feel when he heard Abbie’s laughter mixing with the noise from the kids. Fool that he was, he wanted to play, too. And why not? If he had nothing to give them except memories, he wanted to make them good.

  After a glance at the fading sky, John sauntered into the yard where the kids were playing tug-of-war with the dog and a length of laundry line. Bones couldn’t get a grip with his baby teeth, so John sat and took off his boots and his socks. “Here,” he said, holding up the cotton. “Use one of these so Bones can hold on.”

  As Susanna took them, she gave a playful wrinkle of her nose and Abbie chuckled. John took his wife’s hand and squeezed. While watching their kids and the puppy shred his best pair of socks, he felt the deepest fear he had ever known.

  Abbie pressed tight against John’s arm. She wanted the moment to last forever, but the sky had faded to lavender and shadows were stretching across the yard. “All right now,” she called to the children. “It’s time to clean up and go to bed. Susanna, make sure Bones is cozy in his box. And Robbie, check his water.”

  Robbie scrambled past them first, followed by Susanna carrying the exhausted puppy. At the same time, Abbie and John pushed to their feet and smiled. She recognized the look on her husband’s face. He wanted to make love and so did she. But she also had news—her monthly was late.

  Abbie hadn’t forgotten his reaction when she had first mentioned the possibility of a baby, but so much had changed. Happiness stirred in her belly, as if she could already feel life, and she had a wonderful picture of telling John the news under the oak tree. She’d bring a blanket and seduce him under the stars. Relishing the thought of moonlight and bare skin, she gave him a special smile. “Let’s walk down to the stream.”

  John shook his head. “I need to stay close to home.”

  But Abbie wanted the seclusion of the oak and the ripple of the current. “Silas can watch for trouble,” she said lightly. “I have something to tell you.”

  John wrinkled his brow. “Is it Gantry? Have you heard something?”

  His tone made her wish she had never opened her mouth. “It’s nothing like that. It can wait.”

  But waiting wasn’t in her husband’s nature. Gripping her hand, he led her to the side of the porch. “If you’ve heard any kind of talk, I need to know about it.”

  She considered telling him about Maggie’s last letter instead of her real news, but the twilight streaks of pink and turquoise matched the ring on her finger. She was still deciding what to do when John glared up at the darkest part of the sky and frowned. “I wish to God I could make you face facts about Gantry.”

  The bleakness of his expression made her sigh. He had cause for concern, but they also had a reason to celebrate. Abbie touched his arm. “Maybe we should face another fact first. Do you remember what I told you on our wedding night—about a miracle?”

  His gaze locked on hers. “I remember everything,” he said in a toneless voice.

  “Then you already know what I’m going to say… We’re going to have a baby.”

  Full of hope, she watched as his expression changed in fragments. His eyes darkened as he lowered his chin. His lips tightened, then he spoke an oath so ugly she cringed.

  “You don’t mean that,” she said gently.

  “Are you sure? It’s only been—”

  “I’m positive.” She clutched his hand. “I’ve wanted another baby for so long. Be happy, Johnny. This child is a gift.”

  “It’s not a gift. It’s a tragedy!” He jerked his hand out of hers. “With the hell that’s coming this way, a baby is the last thing I want. I wish to God I’d used a French letter.”

  Raw fury pulsed through Abbie’s veins. How dare he reject an innocent child! It was inhuman, ugly and selfish. She knew it was fear talking and not John, but his attitude couldn’t be tolerated. Someone had to set him straight, so she stepped back.

  “Listen up, Reverend. I’ve put up with your foul mood for two weeks now. You’ve been short-tempered with me for no good reason—except in bed, which doesn’t count. It’s going to stop tonight.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Or else what?”

  She wanted to shake him out of his dread just as he’d riled her enough to kiss him hard. Only she couldn’t think of a thing he’d find threatening. Still, she had to try, so she said, “Or else you’ll be sorry.”

  He chuffed like a mule. “I already am.”

  “Not as sorry as you should be. You’re letting Gantry destroy us and it’s not right.”

  “Damn it, Abbie! I’m trying to protect you and you’re blowing sunshine in my face. A baby is one more worry. Do you have any idea what it’s like to feel trapped? Like the walls are about to come tumbling down all around you?”

  “Yes!”

  “Like hell,” he muttered.

  Abbie stood taller. “That last remark was an insult. I know all about threats and bullies, and I have the scars to prove it. I lived like a trapped animal for fourteen years. You owe me an apology.”

  “Fine, I’m sorry.”

  “You could at least try to sound like you mean it!”

  “Maybe I don’t,” he said, raising his voice. “Staying here is just plain foolish, and a baby right now—”

  “—is nothing but a joy!”

  When John clamped his lips together, Abbie knew she’d lost this round of the battle. What could a woman say to silence? Nothing. But there were other ways to shock some sense into a man. She decided to gamble. “You win,” she said bitterly. “I’m sick of your self-pity. The kids and I will be on the next train.”

  His shoulders sagged. “I’ll meet you in Washington.”

  “Don’t bother. I don’t want this child raised by a man who doesn’t want it.”

  She raised her gaze to his, daring him to admit that he wanted their baby, but he said nothing. Disgusted, she spun on her heels and walked away, praying with every step that he’d stop her.

  “Abbie?”

  Tears welled in her eyes as she halted in midstep. She was a breath away from running back to him when she heard a defeated sigh. “I’ll check the train schedule tomorrow. Can you be ready by Friday?”

  Saying nothing, she walked away, letting the solitary tap of her shoes send a message of their own.

  John looked at the train tickets on the kitchen table and frowned. He’d bought them the day after Abbie had told him about the baby. Ever since, he’d wanted to tear them into pieces. He wouldn’t, though. Ugly or not, their parting was necessary and just minutes away.

  At the tap of his wife’s shoes in the hallway, he couldn’t stop himself from looking up. He hadn’t seen her since yesterday. He’d been sleeping in the stable because he knew himself too well. If he touched her, they’d make love and all the barriers would fall. He couldn’t let that happen. Even when she had come to him in the middle of the night, he’d sent her away. God, he felt like scum. Especially now because she had given up on him.

  He watched as she lifted the tickets and tucked them into her bag, keeping her eyes off his face. He could see that she’d been crying—for him, herself, Sus
anna, the baby he might never know.

  One word and she’d be in his arms… To keep from saying it, he picked up his coffee cup.

  Robbie and Susanna came down the stairs at the same time. They were both dressed for travel, Robbie in the same suit he’d been wearing when they’d arrived, and Susanna in a navy-blue dress that made her look all grown up. John had to choke back a longing so strong it made him shake. He wanted to see his daughter graduate from college. He’d dreamed of walking her down the aisle…but mostly he wanted her to call him Pa. If he heard it just once, it would be enough.

  But that wasn’t likely in the next few minutes. John raised the bitter coffee to his lips and forced himself to drink it all. When no one spoke as he lowered the cup, he said, “Good morning.”

  His voice was too hearty, and both kids shot daggers with their eyes. He couldn’t blame them—he’d made a mess and they were caught in the middle, especially Susanna. John watched as she dropped to her knees, lifted Bones out of his box and cuddled him against her chest.

  When she looked at her mother, he saw tears in her eyes and hated himself anew.

  “I want to take him with us,” Susanna said.

  Abbie put false cheer into her voice. “I’m sorry, sweetie, but we can’t.”

  “I hate Washington,” Robbie declared. “Why do we have to go anyway?”

  Abbie stared at John. Ask us to stay…tell me you love me…

  The moment called for an acknowledgment that something hard was taking place, but John didn’t have it in him. He had tried to explain everything to Robbie last night, but the boy was at an age where he felt invincible. Unfortunately he thought John was invincible, too. As for Susanna, she had stayed silent.

  Trying to sound normal, he said, “Did Tim Hawk pick up the baggage?”

  Abbie nodded. “All of it.”

  “Good,” he said. “You don’t want to be late.”

  Last night he had told Abbie he’d walk with them to the depot, but she had insisted on saying goodbye here. It didn’t matter to John. He planned to follow them in a few minutes, just to be sure they were safe on the train. He reached to shake Robbie’s hand first. “Look after the ladies, son.”

 

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