by Kit Morgan
“Yep, purty sure it is,” said Dirty. Really, labeling them thus was the only way Lily could keep track at this point. It was bad enough she had to twist around just to see what was going on.
“If ya ain’t sure, then why don’t ya just ask?” piped up a third, a straw-haired fellow with pox scars on his cheeks.
His fellow outlaws looked at him, then at each other. Clean rolled his eyes, then glared at Sadie. “What is your name?”
“None of your business!” she spat back.
“Feisty, ain’t she?” asked another, one with a drooping mustache.
“Pretty too,” said a fifth, even dirtier than Dirty.
“Hands off!” Clean threatened. “If she’s the one we want, she is to be kept in one piece.”
“What about the other one?” asked Dirty.
Clean looked her up and down. “I don’t care what you do with her.”
Dirty growled low in his throat. “Makes up for not getting’ to play with the other one.”
“We needed a horse, not a hostage,” Clean snapped. “Now hush. I’m thinking.”
Lily turned away and looked at Anson and Henry, who were both watching the proceedings with interest. After a moment she noticed the two were making tiny movements, subtle enough not to be noticed by their captors. They were trying to loosen or cut their bonds.
Pox Scars walked over to Lily and ran a finger against her cheek. “This one’s sure pretty.” He licked his lips. “Can we have her now?”
Lily cringed and shrank away.
“Leave her alone!” Sadie warned.
Clean ignored her words and continued to study her. “Are you Mrs. Cooke of the Triple-C Ranch?”
“What if I am?” she said, eyes narrowed to slits.
“She’s kinda scary,” Mustache said. “And mean.”
“Well?” Clean asked, hands on hips. “Are you or are you not Mrs. Cooke?” He looked at Lily and back, then smiled. “Maybe you need a little encouragement to loosen your tongue.” He went to Lily and pulled a knife from a scabbard at his belt.
“I said leave her alone!” Sadie yelled, her voice like venom.
“Land sakes, she’s mad as a rattler, Jesse!” Pox Scars cried. “I bet she spits poison.” So the leader’s name was Jesse …
Lily didn’t have time to dwell on it, as Jesse grabbed the back of her dress at the collar, almost choking her. “Maybe Mrs. Cooke would like to watch us have a little entertainment.” He pulled at Lily’s collar, put the knife to her dress and cut through the fabric down to her waist.
She screamed, and the men suddenly went silent. She wasn’t sure why for a moment, until the cold night air hit her exposed back …
“Sam Blazes, will ya look at that!” Dirty cried.
“Eeughh!” Dirtier added
Of course – her back was exposed in all its scarred glory, eliciting the usual reactions of revulsion from her audience. Good. Lily twisted around just in time to see the outlaws back up as one. “Good Lord, woman, what happened to you?” Jesse asked, eyes wide.
“I don’t know about y’all,” said Mustache. “But I ain’t touchin’ that.” He shivered and turned away.
Pox Scars shuddered, then fled into a stall. A few seconds later came retching sounds.
“Get away from her!” Sadie yelled.
“Gladly,” said the sixth man, a dough-faced youngster, as he backed further away. “She’s like somethin’ outta a nightmare.”
Lily, her scars serving her well for once, narrowed her eyes, twisted further around and snarled at them. It was worth a try.
“She ain’t human!” Dirtier cried. He wiped his hands over his arms and chest as if brushing off insects.
Lily could only assume that between the lantern light and shadows of the barn, her scars looked worse than normal. That was even better.
“What’s the rest of her look like?” Dirty asked as he drew closer. “Leastwise her face is purty.”
“It’s the same everywhere!” Sadie cried as inspiration struck. “She’s got leprosy!”
The outlaws jumped back again, shuddering. “Can we get it?” Dough Face asked with revulsion.
“Yes! So beware!” Sadie said, her voice ominous. “She’s in the last stages!”
Lily pulled at her bonds. Her arms were stretched so far over her head she was almost on tiptoe. For lack of a better idea she moaned balefully, then drooled for good measure.
“She’s loco, like a rabid coyote!” Dirty cried.
Lily glanced at Anson and Henry, who were vigorously working at their bonds. She had no idea what they were cutting the ropes with, but it seemed to be working. She needed to make sure she kept the bandits’ attention. She squinted at Jesse and hissed like a scalded cat.
“Pull yourselves together, you worthless vermin!” Jesse shouted at his men’s cries, even as he paled and backed up another step. “You’re … you’re acting like a bunch of old women! Now get over here – we have a ransom note to write.”
“Ohhh, I cain’t think straight – cover her up!” Dirty said with a grimace. “That’s the most hideous thing I ever did see!”
“Then ya ain’t lookin’ close enough,” came a familiar deep voice near the barn door.
And chaos broke out.
Lily screamed as a gun fired. Dirty flew past her and rolled into Anson and Henry, who had just rid themselves of the ropes and gags. She twisted the other way in time to see Sadie scoot herself forward, lean back, then kick Jesse in the back of the knees to send him sprawling.
Oscar grabbed Pox Scars (just returning from the stall), lifted him up over his head and threw him at Mustache and Dirtier. Pox Scars’ foot hit a lantern that hung from a rope attached to a rafter overhead, the only source of light in the barn. It swung to and fro making eerie shadows of all of them.
Dirty pushed himself up to a sitting position, took one look at Oscar in the flickering light and screamed. Oscar smiled and punched him in the face, swinging underhand. Jesse tried to rise, but Oscar kicked him in the back of the head, landing the ne’er-do-well face first in the hay with a puff of dust. Dough Face collapsed onto his knees, hid his head under his hands and began keening.
Behind Oscar, another man – Logan Kincaid? – began taking the outlaws’ guns and tossing them into a nearby stall – thankfully not the one Pox Scars had lost his dinner in. Henry and Anson grabbed Dough Face, yanked him to a standing position and walked him over to Oscar. “Now yer gonna tell us everythin’!” Anson snarled. “Where’s Emeline?”
“Emeline?” Dough Face blubbered. “I don’t know no Emeline!”
Anson twisted the man’s arm behind his back and yanked upward. “Where is she?”
“Anson!” Oscar barked. “Just hold on a minute. Ain’t no need to break his arm.” He went to Lily, put an arm around her waist and lifted her up, freeing her wrists from the spike. “Ya all right, honey?”
She smiled, tears in her eyes. “I am now!”
Mustache came to, looked at Oscar and Lily and yelped in shock. “He’s touchin’ her! He’s got it too! They all got it!”
Oscar turned around and shook his head. “Idiot. They’re just burn scars.”
Sadie, now on her feet, was letting Logan untie her. “You heard?”
“If you’re talking about that whole leprosy thing you came up with, yeah. Well done.”
“But why didn’t you come in earlier?” Lily asked.
“We were waitin’ for Henry and Anson to cut themselves loose,” Oscar explained. “We couldn’t risk you or Sadie getting hurt by goin’ two against six.”
Sadie rubbed her wrists. “Thank you, Oscar, Logan. You too, Anson and Henry. The last thing I want to do is get abducted again.”
Logan smiled. “I’d imagine.”
Oscar set Lily on her feet and began to untie her. “I don’t understand,” she said to Sadie. “What do you mean ‘again’?”
“It’s happened before. But I swore to myself years ago I’d never let it happen again.
Obviously these men didn’t come for the cattle we gifted you – they came for me.”
“But what about Emeline?!” Anson gave his prisoner’s arm a tug.
“Owwww!” the outlaw wailed. “I told ya, we don’t know no Emeline!”
“Yer lyin’! Her brother tracked ya – said she was with ya!”
“Her h-h-horse …”
“Anson, let up,” Oscar ordered. He bent over Jesse, who was just coming around, and yanked him to his feet. “Well?”
Jesse blinked at him a few times. “Wha … what?”
“Did ya come here plannin’ to make off with Mrs. Cooke?” Oscar gave him a healthy shake
Jessie grimaced and sighed. “Yes.”
“And ya didn’t take no other woman along the way?”
“No, just two horses.”
“Was one from a woman?” Anson asked.
“Yes, three or four days ago. But we didn’t touch her, I swear on my honor.”
“On yer honor …” Anson snorted, then exchanged a quick look with Oscar. “Ya mean to tell us ya ran ‘cross a woman on yer way here and all ya did was take her horse?”
“Yes! Are you deaf? And last night we did the same with a man. We didn’t need them, we needed the mounts.”
Anson frowned. “Then where’s the woman?”
“How should I know!” the outlaw sneered. “She probably walked to some ranch along the road and waited for the next stage to take her home!”
Lily and Sadie gawked at him. “Oh dear,” Lily said. “That explains a few things. Including about Eli – he must have been the man they found last night.”
“Was Eli that fella?” Dough Face whined. Anson had let him go, but now Logan had a gun pointed at him. “We just stumbled into him looking for a place to camp. Hezekiah panicked and whacked him on the head.”
“Which one’s Hezekiah?” Oscar asked.
The outlaws that were conscious pointed at Dirty, who wasn’t.
“Ya mean Emeline ain’t in danger?” Anson asked in disbelief.
“Would ya rather she was, little brother?” Oscar asked. “Sounds to me like Eli followed her horse’s tracks until she met with this bunch, missed her footprints somehow and stayed on her horse’s trail until he got himself clobbered. Sound about right?” A couple of the outlaws nodded. “Shoot, Emeline’s prob’ly home safe and sound, wonderin’ where her brother’s gotten off to.”
“What I don’t understand,” Lily said, “is why Eli didn’t get help.”
Sadie smiled. “Isn’t it obvious? He didn’t want folks to know his sister ran off after some man. Even in Clear Creek, that would get tongues wagging. She wasn’t thinking of such things, of course – knowing Emeline, she just thought she was off on a romantic adventure. It’s the sort of thing headstrong girls her age are prone to do.”
Lily nodded in understanding. “I can see that.”
Jesse grimaced and coughed. “Disgusting.”
Sadie turned to him. “Since when is love disgusting?”
That got Anson’s attention. “Love?”
“What woman in her right mind would want to live in a place like this?” Jesse spat. He looked around, his eyes settling on Oscar, Henry and Anson. “Or be married to the likes of you?”
“I would,” Lily said, her voice stern. “These men are my family and I love them.”
He laughed in scorn. “Big talk for an abomination.”
Oscar pulled his arm back. “That’s my wife yer addressin’, mister!” He got in his face. “The most beautiful woman in the world, I’ll have ya know. And I love her!” One punch, and Jesse fell to the ground with a thud, unconscious.
Lily’s eyes lit up. “Oscar! You do?”
“‘Course I do, Lily Fair. Cain’t ya tell?”
She smiled. “I think I’ve known all along. I’ve just never heard you say it.”
He took her in his arms. “I guess I’d rather show ya, Lily Fair.” He kissed her tenderly on the mouth, then gazed into her eyes. “Ya ain’t said it neither, but I know ya love me.”
“Y-you do?”
He nodded. “I can see it in yer eyes, the way ya walk now, yer voice. Before, you were all fearful – ‘fraid of who’d see ya, judge ya by them scars.” With his fingers, he traced the marks on her back, caressing them. Loving the pain away.
Lily wanted to bury her face in his chest. He was right, of course – he’d freed her from all of that. She returned his look. “I love you.”
A low whimper broke the spell. Everyone looked to see a now-conscious Pox Scars staring at Oscar and Lily, tears in his eyes. “Well, goldang, if that ain’t the most beautiful thing I ever did hear, I don’t know what is.” He sniffled.
Henry looked at the outlaw, then at Oscar and Lily, and burst out laughing. “He done called it, Oscar – ya love Lily no matter what!” He looked at Pox Scars again. “Bet ya never seen nothin’ like that before, have ya?”
Pox Scars shook his head. “Nossir, I sure haven’t. I … well, I hope someday a woman can love me like that, even though I …” He sighed and rubbed his own scars.
Henry laughed again. “Oscar, you done poked a hole in his evil ol’ heart!”
Everyone looked again at the pockmarked outlaw, who but moments ago had rape and who knows what else on his mind. A miracle, when it came down to it.
Oscar turned back to Lily. “See, Lily Fair? The Lord uses all things for good, even yer scars. Ya just had to learn to let Him. For me, that makes ya the prettiest gal around.” He kissed her again.
As his words sank in, Lily began to understand the meaning of the term “beauty from ashes.” The ashes had left her wounded and afraid – until Oscar saw the beauty in her.
Epilogue
Three weeks later …
“Then it’s all arranged,” Harrison Cooke said happily. “Don’t worry, Mrs. White, we’ll take good care of your boy. Though he’s hardly a boy anymore.”
Ma smiled at Anson. “No, he sure ain’t. I’d like him t’stay, but ya gotta let a man get a chance at happiness. Ya cain’t very well court a gal through the mail t’see if th’two o’ ya will suit.” She opened her arms to her son, tears in her eyes.
Anson stepped into them. “Thanks, Ma. I’ll never forget this.”
“‘Course ya won’t – I ain’t gonna let ya! But if it don’t work out, ya juss c’mon back.”
Anson hugged his mother tight. “I know. But if Emeline’s fool enough to ride this way for a whole day and get her horse stolen, well, she’s gotta feel somethin’ for me, right?”
Harrison laughed. “Right now she’s still too embarrassed about losing her mare to those outlaws to set her cap for anyone. But at least she got her back, thanks to you and your brothers.”
“Yeah,” Anson agreed. “They sure were a dumb bunch of outlaws.”
“That ‘dumb bunch’ almost got hold of my wife,” Harrison reminded him. “You kept her from being abducted – I can’t thank you enough for that. The least I can do is give you a position at the Triple-C for a time so you can court Emeline.”
“Does she know Anson’s comin’?” Oscar asked as he emerged from the kitchen carrying a pan of hot rolls.
“She don’t,” Ma assured him. “We ain’t even tole Willie yet. But he’ll bring us Anson’s letters, so we know what’s up.”
Lily entered the room with a tureen of stew and set it next to the rolls. Harrison had arrived two hours before, informed them of his plan to help Anson and Emeline, and inspected the animals he’d given them while the family considered it. He was tired and hungry, so she and Oscar had heated up some stew from the night before and made a fresh batch of rolls. She smiled at Harrison, then went to Oscar and hugged him.
He hugged her back, kissed the top of her head, then turned to Anson. “Ya do understand what love is, don’t ya, little brother?”
Anson blushed. “‘Course I do. Ain’t nothin’ to it – ya get to feelin’ all funny inside, like your belly’s full of butterflies. Ya cain’t eat, cain
’t sleep, cain’t think straight …”
“Oh Lawd,” Ma said, rolling her eyes.
“Young man, that’s only the start,” Harrison replied, looking at the rolls. “There’s a lot more to love than a few butterflies in your stomach.”
“Love is accepting a person for who they are,” Lily added. She looked up at Oscar and smiled. “Knowing the other person’s weaknesses and shortcomings, and loving them anyway, unconditionally.”
He smiled back. “Through sickness and health, ‘til death do us part.”
“And then some,” she added. “Up to and including a band of idiot outlaws.”
Oscar laughed and kissed her on the nose. She snuggled closer and leaned her head against his shoulder, and he tightened his arm around her in response. “It also means being willin’ to take a bullet for the one ya love, come to that,” he said. “Those outlaws might’ve been dumb, but as ya recall some guns went off. It was darn lucky none of us got shot.”
Anson looked at Harrison. “Yer sure Sadie’s doin’ all right?”
Harrison laughed. “My wife is made of tougher stuff than you can imagine. Thank Heaven you, Oscar and Henry saved the day or I’d have to listen to her complain of her ordeal for months. She abhors abduction.”
“Ain’t nobody like’t, I figger,” Ma said, then looked around. “Where’s Henry?”
“Out on the front porch,” Oscar said. “Where else?”
“Again?”
“What’s so unusual about him being on the front porch?” Harrison asked.
“He’s waitin’ for the stage,” Oscar explained. “A schoolmarm named Norton passed through here some weeks ago, headin’ to The Dalles. Henry was smit. He’s wantin’ her to come back.”
“Oh, the poor chap,” Harrison said.
Just then, they heard the stage pulling in. Everyone turned to the front door. “Hmmm, few minutes early,” Ma said. “Oscar, best y’feed Mr. Cooke in th’kitchen or those passengers’re gonna devour th’rolls ya made fer ‘im.”