The Outlaw Bride

by Sandra Chastain

  She’d seen Callahan in all his glory and could still hear his laughter as she dashed out of the room like some kind of schoolgirl. But she wasn’t a schoolgirl, and behind her embarrassed physical reaction lay suspicion. Most of her court cases forced her to interact with mean, dangerous men who had the same look in their eyes that Callahan did.

  That look had turned Josie back into Joe again. Joe, the tough ragamuffin boy who’d tried to pick Dr. Annie’s pocket at the Brooklyn train station. Though her real mother had tried early on to protect Josie from the truth about her own profession, in the end, Josie was no stranger to men and women—together. The walls of a house of prostitution were thin. There was little she hadn’t seen or heard.

  The physical mechanics of mating she understood, but the kind of desire Callahan talked about was something she’d never comprehend. Josie had vowed never to let a man make her lose control. None had.

  Until now.

  Her pacing took her to the kitchen. “Lubina,” she asked hesitantly, “I know you’ve never married, but have you ever … been with a man?”

  Lubina dropped the tin basin she was carrying and watched it roll down the corridor to a stop. “Been … with a man, señorita?”

  “That’s what I asked.”

  Lubina closed her eyes and shook her head. “Miss Josie, you should not even think about that. Dr. Annie wouldn’t like it.”

  Josie thought about Dr. Annie and how she and Dan were forever touching and sharing secret smiles. “I may not ever have a husband, Lubina, but when Dr. Annie returns, I intend to ask her how it feels to want one.”

  A roaring voice reverberated down the corridor, followed by a crash from the hospital room.

  “That devil is calling you, Miss Josie,” Lubina said.

  “You go see what he wants,” Josie snapped.

  “No, ma’am, es time for me to go to church.” Lubina untied her apron and draped it over the hook beside the kitchen door. “I’ll send Wash to look after him,” she said, wringing her hands as she stood by the door.

  “Lubina, you big coward. Come and help me.”

  A bang was followed by another roar.

  “Hurry, señorita,” Lubina said, “he es going to destroy your mama’s sickroom. None of her other folks ever busted up the place.”

  Josie sucked in her cheeks. Lubina was right. The dark, angry man was her responsibility. She’d put a stop to his behavior—right this minute.

  She marched down the hall and flung open the door. The bed had been dragged halfway across the room. Her patient was standing behind it, using it for a walker. Only sheer determination kept him upright.

  “What on earth do you think you’re doing?”

  “I’m getting out of here,” he said in a threatening voice. “Don’t get in my way.”

  “And where are you going?”

  “To find myself a horse.”

  She swallowed the obvious retort, saying instead, “But you don’t have any clothes.”

  He looked at her smile and cursed. “You’re right. And you know what? I don’t need any.”

  He let go of the sheet and stumbled around the head of the bed toward her, as naked as the day he was born, except for his bandages. He made it about three steps before he exhausted his strength and fell back across the cot. His collapse occurred at about the same time the sound of hoofbeats in the courtyard announced the arrival of someone in a hurry.

  “Josie?” Will Spencer’s urgent voice came from the courtyard.

  “Keep your mouth shut,” Josie said, then moved to open the door and called out, “Sheriff. I’m glad you—and your men—are here. I need you to help me get my patient back into bed.”

  “I’ll get back by myself,” Callahan said, breathing hard.

  Will burst into the room, gun drawn. He was accompanied by a posse of unidentified men. “Is it him?” Will asked.

  One of the men nodded. “It’s Callahan, all right. He’s the thief who stole all our money.”

  “Keller,” Callahan gasped. “You gone loco? Ben and I made an investment in those cattle, too. This was our last chance to make it as ranchers. Why would we steal our own money?”

  “Because it was the only way you could get enough to pay for the cattle and the mortgage on your ranch.”

  “Don’t move, Callahan. I’m putting you under arrest,” Will said.

  Josie felt her face go white. “Under arrest? You can’t do that, Will. You have no witnesses and no proof.”

  Will ignored her protest, gave the rancher a nod, and they both moved forward, clasping Callahan by the arms. “We have a suspect, and that’s enough for now. Turn your head, Josie.”

  “Why?”

  “Because, in case you haven’t noticed, he isn’t wearing any clothes.” Will picked up the sheet and flung it over Callahan, who could have spit gunpowder and fired away. “Give us a hand here, boys.”

  “What kind of sheriff are you? I’m not a thief,” Callahan protested.

  Josie moved in front of Callahan and faced the ranchers. “He’s innocent until proven guilty.”

  Two of Will’s men moved around Josie, lifted Callahan, sat him on the bed, and held him there. “Suppose you tell us where your brother is, Sims.”

  Josie took one look at the fury on Callahan’s face and weighed her options. A legal argument wasn’t going to defuse the situation. She reached inside her pocket and pulled out the derringer Ellie had given to her. “Stand back, Will. He may be a thief, but he’s injured. You’re not taking him anywhere.”

  With a shake of his head, Will signaled his men to draw back. “Put the gun away, Josie. I know you’re trying to do what your mama would do, but this man is a suspected criminal. I have to take him to jail.”

  “Suspected criminal,” she insisted. “Innocent until proven guilty. As his doctor, I say he can’t be moved. You’ll kill him.”

  Will looked at Josie’s patient and frowned. “Kill him? I don’t think so, Josie. He survived the trip here, slung over the neck of a horse. And he survived your treatment.”

  “As his attorney, I must warn you that if you remove him from the premises you’re responsible for his life.”

  “His attorney?” Will’s tone grew sharp.

  “My attorney?” Callahan repeated.

  “Your attorney,” Josie insisted, hoping he’d shut up before he made things worse. “You see, Callahan, a woman can be a healer and a lawyer, too. Fiat justitia—let justice be done—when he’s well enough to be moved. Now, get him back in bed, Will Spencer, and I’ll put my gun away.”

  “You tell me how a dying man got out of bed and moved it halfway across the room and I’ll listen,” Will said.

  “You tell me where Ben is and I’ll get back in bed myself,” Callahan said.

  “I came here to ask you that question,” Will said. “If you don’t know, we’ll have to assume that he’s either dead or he’s run out on you with the money.”

  Josie was still searching desperately for an explanation, any explanation for Callahan’s nudity and the bed being halfway out the door. But she didn’t have to, because at that moment, Callahan fainted and started to fall forward. “Catch him, quickly,” Josie snapped, tucking her derringer back into her pocket and rushing to Callahan’s side. She wasn’t at all certain that his faint was real, but she was willing to use it to her advantage.

  “Say the word, sheriff,” Keller said, “and we’ll tie him over my horse and haul him to jail.”

  “And I’ll have you prosecuted for murder,” Josie warned. “Don’t think I won’t do it.”

  Reluctantly, the ranchers who’d accompanied Sheriff Spencer stepped back.

  Will finally nodded his head and lay the unconscious man onto the bed.

  “If you men will just roll his bed this way,” Josie said, “we’ll get him settled for the night. I was just moving him into the family wing of the house when he fell out of bed,” she explained.

  The men who made up the posse began talking in low, a
gitated voices. “I don’t believe him,” Keller said. “He knows where our money is.”

  Another voice argued. “Sheriff said that Callahan and his brother left the trail. Why’d they do that if they were heading for Laramie?”

  “Maybe they had a good reason,” another suggested.

  “Ordering these cattle was Ben’s idea, and you know he’s smart.”

  “Ben, yes. It’s Callahan I don’t trust. Maybe he sent Ben on and staged getting shot so we’d let him go,” Keller argued.

  “And maybe the thief was one of you ranchers,” Josie suggested. “All of you knew where the Callahan brothers were going. All of you need money.”

  The posse rolled the hospital cot down the hall to the family wing, all the while arguing over Josie’s accusation.

  Josie confronted the sheriff. “Will, you can’t believe that he’s a thief. Those gunshot wounds aren’t self-inflicted, and they aren’t flesh wounds.”

  “I know. But, Josie, I also know he’s one of the Callahan brothers, and just like it’s your job to defend suspects, it’s my job to arrest them.”

  Josie changed the subject. “Will, where do you think his brother is?”

  “I don’t know. He may be dead or he may be halfway to California with the money. All I know is the Callahan brothers left Sharpsburg with over five thousand dollars in cash and jewels to pay for a herd of high-priced cattle imported from England. The cattle arrived, the Callahan brothers didn’t. This one’s wounded, and his brother and the money have disappeared.”

  “That doesn’t prove they stole the money, and without stolen money, you have no case. The only thing you know for sure is that Callahan was almost killed.”

  Will looked uncomfortable. “When we find his brother, we’ll find the money. Where’s Wash? He’s supposed to be protecting you.”

  “He’s … around. Besides, I’m perfectly safe. Look at Callahan’s wounds. He couldn’t even get out the door.”

  Will stared at her sternly, conscious of the ranchers standing in the doorway, watching. “When will he be well enough to move?”

  “Dr. Annie would know,” she said honestly, “but I don’t. You’ll just have to wait until she comes back for a diagnosis.”

  “I don’t like it,” Will protested. “I need to question him.”

  “That’s going to be hard to do considering he’s unconscious.”

  “All right, but I’ll be back tomorrow. Until then, I’ll leave a guard.”

  There was an almost imperceptible tightening of the muscles in Callahan’s jaw. Josie had thought Callahan’s collapse was too convenient. Now she was sure of it.

  “You really going to leave that low-down thief here?” one of the older men asked.

  “Looks like I don’t have any choice. If we take him to town and he dies, we may never know what happened to that money.”

  “What if he runs off in the middle of the night?”

  “He’s not. I’m leaving Wash in charge to make sure he doesn’t.”

  “If you think you’re going to get him off like you did that bar girl, you got another think coming,” someone in the group said to Josie.

  Another joined in. “Yeah, and if we don’t get our money back, you can forget a trial. We’re going to hang the son of a …”

  “That’s what I thought you had in mind,” Will said. He turned to Josie. “Just so you know, I’m not going to let that happen. Arresting him may be as necessary to save his life as your doctoring.”

  Josie could only nod.

  When Wash was firmly posted outside the door to Josie’s room, Will finally left, taking his posse with him.

  Josie walked back to her room, opened the door, and leaned against it. “All right, Mr. Callahan, I know you didn’t pass out. You can open your eyes now.”

  He did. “Why’d you make up that cock-and-bull story about prosecuting them for murder if I died? I didn’t ask for your help.”

  “I don’t know. I guess it’s the lawyer in me—anything to save a client.”

  “You really are an attorney?”

  “I am. But saving you will cost you, and I could use a big fat fee.”

  “I’m broke, remember. And now we’re going to lose the ranch and what few cows we have left. We’re pretty well wiped out.”

  “What happened to your herd?”

  “Our cows caught some kind of fever from a Mexican herd passing through last spring. Ben had read about some cows being bred in England to resist the fever. He thought if we brought in some new, stronger stock, we’d be better off.”

  “Go on,” Josie said.

  “A group of us pooled together all our money, jewels, and anything else we could come up with to pay for them.”

  “But you didn’t coerce the others into making the deal, did you?”

  “Ben and I didn’t talk them into anything. I’ll admit that I was worried about the risk, but the rest of the ranchers didn’t think twice. Too bad. Now it’s all gone. We’ve lost the chance to buy new cattle and we’ll probably lose our ranches. And Ben’s missing.”

  “Callahan, who shot you?”

  “Never saw a face. They ambushed us. I was too busy turning my back on trouble to get a good look.”

  She let out a deep breath. “And what did you intend to do when you reached Laramie?”

  “Pay for the cattle and drive them back to Sharpsburg.”

  “And then what?”

  “What do you mean? Each rancher got his share and we’d eventually breed cattle that resisted the fever.”

  “So everyone stood to lose if the money disappeared?”

  “Lose is putting it mildly. Even with the cattle, we lose. Rebuilding our herds will take a year. We all have mortgages due in the fall.”

  One of the ranchers had mentioned it earlier. Now Callahan had just given Ben a motive for riding off with the money. “What do you think happened to your brother?”

  Callahan let out a ragged sigh. “I don’t know. I thought I held them off long enough for Ben to get away. But he should have made it back to Laramie by now. Damn it to hell, Ben doesn’t know how to look after himself.” Callahan was becoming irate. “I swear, if Ben’s hurt, I’m going to find and kill the bastard who did it.”

  Josie shivered. This man was serious. He could kill a man—and would.

  “Still want to be my lawyer, Miss Miller?”

  The shadows around Callahan had deepened, casting a smear of darkness across his face. His jet-black eyes seemed to penetrate that darkness, pinning her to this moment of truth. Josie’s heart raced. She could send Wash to catch Will. No, something told her not to. She was intrigued by this man. She needed to find out the truth herself.

  In the silence, the kitchen door opened and slammed closed. Lubina’s voice called out, “Miss Josie! I just saw the sheriff go. Where are you, Miss Josie?”

  “I’m in here, Lubina.”

  The housekeeper dashed into Josie’s bedroom, took one look at the naked man in her bed and fell to her knees. “Mother Mary, when I asked you to help Miss Josie be a woman, this es not what I prayed for.”

  5

  Later, as Josie was sitting with Callahan, he said, “You know, if the sheriff is right, you’re taking a big chance bringing me into your bedroom.”

  “No, I’m not—you’re forgetting Lubina.”

  “No, I haven’t forgotten.”

  “Besides, I have a gun.”

  “Well, between a gun and ‘the bulldog,’ I’m scared to death.” Callahan’s eyes flared in mock fear.

  Josie gave him a hesitant smile. “Your fainting episode was very believable.”

  “You’re the only thing between me and jail. I thought I’d make it easier on you.” There was a softness about his response that didn’t match the piercing cut of his eyes.

  “I sure hope you’re a good attorney.”

  “I am. Unfortunately, the people of Laramie aren’t as certain. The last woman attorney came into town to defend a horse thief. She walke
d up and down the street with a bullwhip, looking for her client, but he took one look at her and hid. Nobody in town wanted to point him out to her, so she finally packed up and left.”

  Callahan grimaced and cleared his throat. “Do you have a bullwhip?”

  “No, but I know how to use one. You don’t have to worry, Mr. Callahan. I know the law and I rely on it. I don’t need a bullwhip to prove a point. The problem is, even after all this time, no one thinks that a woman can be a good lawyer.”

  He let a few minutes of silence pass, mulling over what she’d just said. “There’s something I should tell you. I spent some time in a Kansas jail. During the war I rode with Quantrill’s Raiders for a time. When I left, they blamed me for holding up a bank. The money wasn’t found that time either, but I spent three years in prison for something I didn’t do.”

  Josie’s heart sank. What kind of defense could she offer to a man who had already been convicted of stealing money?

  “I’m thinking that you believe you can save everyone, Miss Josie. The more blackhearted, the better.”

  “Blackhearted? No. Down and out with no place to turn, yes. Those are the ones I want to help,” she said.

  “If being down and out is a requirement, you’ve got your work cut out for you. But,” he said softly, “don’t fool yourself, Josie Miller. You’ll just get hurt. I’m not worth it.”

  “All my clients deserve help, Callahan.”

  “Spoken like a true stubborn woman. Always right, even if she’s wrong.”

  “Lubina was right,” Josie said. “You’re a devil, beyond saving. I don’t know why I didn’t let you die.”

  “Because you don’t give up, Miss Josie. And neither do I. But I am sorry if I offended you. I’m used to dealing with lower-class women.”

  Josie stood and started for the door.

  “Please don’t run out of here screaming,” Callahan said. “I don’t want that bulldog you call a housekeeper accusing me of having my way with you.”

  “Let’s get this straight, Callahan.” She turned back. “Lower-class women don’t always choose to be lower class. I don’t scream, and you can be sure I don’t allow men to have their way with me.”