The Reluctant Outlaw (Love Inspired Historical)

by Karen Kirst

  “I don’t think so.”

  “You can borrow ours.” He gave instructions to his wife. “Have Matt empty the tent of our things and ready a pallet for Evan.”

  “All right,” Rose said before Juliana could protest. “I’ll be right back.”

  With a squeeze of Juliana’s shoulder, she left, taking Joy with her.

  “You really don’t have to do that,” she said.

  “Evan’s ill. He’ll need cover if it starts to rain.”

  “Thank you.” She paused. “What do you think is wrong with him?” She tore her gaze away to look at Henry.

  Henry’s dark eyes were somber. “Could be any number of things. Did he get bit by anything recently?”

  “Like a spider?”

  He nodded. Her eyes drifted back to Evan’s still form. “He didn’t say. But he was really tired last night. We didn’t talk long before I went to bed.”

  Rose brought the bandages and a bowl of clean water. She offered to clean the wound, but Juliana declined, preferring to perform the task herself. With great care, Juliana cleansed the gash and wrapped long strips of cloth around his head, tying it off tight enough to stem the flow of blood. She was thankful the wound wasn’t deep and wouldn’t require a sewing kit. She was in no mood to sew his skin back together. She was worried by the fact that not once during her ministrations did he flinch or flutter an eyelid.

  “I have an idea.” Henry’s voice broke into her reverie. “Once we get him inside the tent, why don’t you undress him and look for marks or spots that look suspicious.”

  Dread filled her as his words registered. Setting the bowl aside, she looked over at him. “I can’t do that.”

  “Why not? You’re his wife.”

  “Well, I—” She scrambled for a solid reason for her refusal and came up blank. As much as she wanted to help, she couldn’t bring herself to do as he suggested. “Could you do it, Henry? You probably have a much better idea of what to look for than I do.”

  He studied her a moment, and Juliana felt a flush creep up her neck.

  “Yes, of course.” He moved to rise. “Will you stay here with him while I help Matt?”

  “I won’t leave him.”

  “Holler if there’s any change.”

  “Okay.”

  She scooted closer and gently took his head in her lap, smoothing his hair with trembling fingers. Against the dark material of her dress, his face was deathly pale. His skin was dry and hot. His chest rose and fell in shallow, rapid breaths.

  “What’s wrong with him, Lord?” she whispered, brushing aside the wetness on her cheeks. “I’m scared.”

  She checked the bandage. So far, there was no sign of blood soaking through the thick cotton. A small blessing.

  Juliana racked her brain, trying to think if Evan had eaten anything odd in the last day or so. As far as she knew, he’d eaten the exact same food as she. Unless he’d eaten something on the trail he’d failed to mention.

  The wind picked up, tugging at her skirt and whipping strands of hair across her face. Slate-gray clouds swirled in the sky overhead, blocking out the sunshine. Henry and Matt worked with quick, efficient movements to ready the tent. She prayed the rain would hold off.

  Rose brought Juliana a bowl of clean, cool water and strips of cloth with which to bathe Evan’s face and neck. With a light touch, she swabbed his forehead, cheeks, chin and neck. She unbuttoned the top buttons of his sky-blue shirt and spread the material wide so that she could access more skin. Curiosity overriding common sense, she slipped her hand beneath his shirt and flattened her palm against the hard muscles, the light covering of hair teasing her fingers. His heart thumped an angry rhythm, his skin fiery to the touch. Yanking her hand back, she ignored the flare of heat in her middle.

  “Miss Juliana?”

  She jerked at the sound of Matt’s voice behind her, the sudden movement jarring Evan’s head. He groaned but didn’t open his eyes. “Yes, Matt?”

  “The tent’s ready.”

  Henry rushed over. Between the three of them, they were able to lift his body off the ground and carry him to the tent beneath a magnolia tree. With the thick, interwoven branches, it was a good choice. Rainwater would sluice off the outer leaves and flowers onto the ground, leaving the inner circle of ground beneath the branches relatively dry. They settled him inside the cozy interior on a soft pallet.

  Juliana stopped Matt’s departure with a hand on his arm. “The water is already tepid. Would you mind refilling it?”

  His dark eyes were wide with uncertainty. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Thanks.”

  The sound of Evan’s labored breathing stirred fear in Juliana’s soul. Whatever was ailing him was serious. Miles from the closest town and doctor, they would have to depend on herbs or plants to provide a remedy.

  “Mrs. Harrison.” Henry spoke as he untied Evan’s bootlaces. “I’m going to check him now. Do you plan to stay or would you rather wait outside?”

  “I’ll go speak with Rose.” With a last caress of Evan’s cheek, she scooted outside and looked up at the dark sky. She thanked God for holding off the weather until Evan was settled. She headed toward the fire where Rose sat with Joy, who was apparently unhappy with the choice of beans for lunch.

  “No!” Crossing her arms, the little girl averted her face.

  Rose held the spoon aloft, encouraging Joy to eat. She looked up at Juliana’s approach. Her black hair was damp with sweat from cooking over the fire. Lowering the spoon to the bowl, she waited for Juliana to speak.

  “He’s not doing well,” she said, discouraged. “I’m worried, Rose. We’re out in the middle of nowhere, and we haven’t a clue what’s wrong with him. He’s so hot. If the fever gets out of control—”

  “Let’s hold off on the what ifs, okay?” Rose held up a hand. “Someone very wise once told me that what ifs open the door to fear. We don’t need that. We need clear-headed thinking.”

  “Of course you’re right.”

  “What’s the first thing we need to do?” Rose asked, thinking aloud. She tugged on Joy’s shoe. “Come sit next to me, Joy baby.” The child obeyed. Intent on watching them, she ate the beans her mother again offered her.

  “We have to get that fever down,” Juliana uttered on a shaky breath.

  “Right. My grandmother used coneflowers for pain and fevers. Have you noticed any growing around here?”

  “No, but I haven’t been on the lookout for them.”

  “Why don’t you search in this area while I finish feeding Joy? If you don’t find any, Henry can look farther out.”

  Careful to keep the camp in sight, Juliana combed the area for the large purple flower. Her gaze swept across the prairie. With its thigh-high grasses and sparse tree cover, she didn’t hold out much hope that she would find what she was looking for. The coneflower was a woodland plant, preferring the shady forest floor to direct sunlight.

  In the distance, she spotted Henry leaving the tent. She sprinted toward him and arrived winded.

  He was the first to speak, his eyes kind as he looked at her. “I didn’t see a thing. Nothing at all that would call for suspicion. He must have some sort of sickness.”

  “How is he?” Her gaze darted to the opening.

  “The same. Fever, shallow breathing.” He touched her elbow briefly. “I need to speak with Rose. While I do that, why don’t you try to get some water into him?”

  “Tell her I didn’t find the coneflower.”

  His mouth drooped. “I will.”

  Stooping over, she entered the tent and waited for her eyes to adjust to the faint light. He was dressed in his white undershirt. A cheerful red, blue and yellow patchwork quilt covered him to his chest, adding a dash of color to the dim space.

  She settled on the pallet and brought his hand to her lap. With her fingertip, she traced the blue veins beneath his tan skin. Testing the weight of it, she took comfort in the strength and capability she knew he possessed. These hands had cau
ght her when she stumbled, comforted her when she cried, held her close when she was afraid. She lifted his hand and pressed her cheek into his palm.

  His eyes remained closed, shutting out the rest of the world.

  When had his face become so dear? Five days ago, she would’ve passed Evan Harrison on the street without a second thought. How had he come to mean so much to her in such a short time? A better question would be how had she allowed herself to fall in love with an outlaw? A man who courted danger?

  Alice O’Malley had raised her daughters to fear God and live upright, godly lives. She expected her daughters to choose men of moral character and good standing in the community. Her mother would be horrified if she knew that her eldest daughter had fallen in love with the very man who’d kidnapped her.

  What was the secret he guarded so closely?

  “What are you hiding?” she whispered softly.

  The flap lifted, and a stiff wind circled through the space. Henry ducked his head in and beckoned her outside. With reluctance she left Evan’s side. Henry and Rose stood side by side waiting to talk to her, while Matt played with his baby sister. Their grave expressions gave her pause.

  “Mrs. Harrison,” Henry began, “I’m inclined to believe that Evan has contracted the same sickness that swept through my sister-in-law’s house. Joy had similar symptoms, but as you can see she’s almost recovered.”

  “Remember I mentioned it yesterday?” Rose prompted.

  “Yes, I remember.” She kneaded her stiff neck muscles. Dread flooded her entire being. “But she and the others were given medicine to control their fevers, right?”

  Husband and wife exchanged a look. “Yes. And the adults fared slightly worse than the children. Took longer to recuperate.”

  Her heart hammered against her rib cage. “Tell me directly, Henry. Without the medicine, what do you think Evan’s chances are of surviving?”

  He didn’t flinch at her words. “He’s young and healthy. If we can bring the fever down and get him to drink plenty of fluids, I believe he has a fighting chance.”

  A tiny bud of hope burst forth in her heart.

  “How are you with a gun?” he asked.

  “Me? I know my way around a firearm.”

  “Good.” He lifted a weapon from his left holster and gave it to her. “Don’t be afraid to use it.”

  “What about Matt?”

  “Matt has his own rifle.”

  Her gaze strayed to the boy playing peekaboo with his sister. She prayed he wouldn’t be forced to use it. “Evan told you about Fitzgerald, didn’t he?”

  His lips flattened. “Yes.” He shifted, his arm going around his wife’s shoulders. “I wouldn’t be leaving if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. As it is, I’m not going far. I figure it’s about an hour’s ride to the forest edge. Once there, I’ll travel on foot until I find the coneflower. Pray I find it soon, for everyone’s sake.”

  Rose lifted her face to his. “I’ll be praying every minute you’re gone.”

  His expression softened, and he dropped a kiss on her cheek. “Thank you, my dear.”

  “Me, too,” Juliana added. “I appreciate all you’re doing for Evan.”

  Settling his hat on his head, he returned, “I know he’d do the same for me.”

  Juliana recognized the truth of his words. Evan would be quick to help a man in need. She watched the pair walk arm in arm toward the horses, turning away when they embraced. The clouds overhead rushed past without releasing a single drop of water. While the wind was still brisk, it had lessened in the last ten minutes or so. It seemed as if the storm would pass them by. Praise the Lord!

  “Oh, Father God, please protect Henry. Again, stay the weather as he searches. Bring him back swiftly, and protect us while we wait. In Jesus’s name, Amen.”

  Juliana headed for the fire, determined to get some broth into Evan. She would do everything in her power to help him get well. The alternative didn’t bear thinking about.

  Juliana spoke in soothing tones as she coaxed Evan to sip the lukewarm broth. He’d drifted in and out of consciousness as the afternoon wore on, at times mumbling random words she couldn’t make sense of. It was suppertime now, around five o’clock or so, she guessed, and the fever still raged through his body.

  Holding the cup to his parched lips, she managed to get a bit of the broth into him. She set the cup aside and gently lowered his head back down to the pillow. Then, as she’d done countless times, she dipped the cloth into the water bowl and, wringing out the excess, began to wipe his face. Not that it appeared to be helping.

  Outside the tent, the constant wind had given way to occasional gusts. While the sun still hid behind a thick layer of clouds, it hadn’t rained. Every now and then, she lifted the flap and peeked out to see if Henry had returned yet. She hoped he hadn’t run into bad weather.

  Evan couldn’t seem to lie still. Restless, he moved his head from side to side. His low moans tugged at her heartstrings. Watching him suffer while she sat helplessly by made her want to weep with frustration.

  She leaned in close. One bright spot in this whole ordeal was that she was free to look at him and touch him and speak without reservation. “Evan, darling,” she murmured, smoothing his damp hair, “hold on a little while longer. Henry will be back before you know it with that coneflower and you’ll soon be on the mend.”

  She prayed that her words would prove to be true.

  The nightmare was back.

  James was driving the wagon, minding his own business, when six masked men on horseback emerged from the woods with guns drawn. A mix of anger and disbelief marked his expression. With no choice, he halted the team and faced his enemies with courage. True to his character, he didn’t give in. He didn’t go down without a fight.

  The scene distorted into chaos, and James was lying facedown in the dirt. Evan was there, tugging on his shoulder to turn him over. James flopped over and his hat slipped back. Instead of his brother’s dear face, an eyeless skull with a gaping mouth stared up at him.

  “James!” His brother’s name was ripped from his lips. “Where?”

  “Shh,” a familiar voice close to his ear soothed, “You’re all right. I’m here.”

  Juliana. At the sound of her sweet voice, the horror of the dream slipped away. Evan tried to say her name, but he couldn’t. Blackness overtook him once again.

  Henry rode into camp about an hour after supper.

  She ducked outside as soon as she heard the sound of an approaching rider. Rose walked swiftly over with Joy in her arms. Matt followed close behind.

  He dismounted near the tent. One glimpse of his expression was all it took for Juliana’s hopes to fly away on the wind.

  “You couldn’t find it, could you?” Hands clasped at her waist, she braced herself for his answer.

  His eyes held a wealth of regret in their dark depths. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Harrison.” His gaze flicked to his wife at her gasp of dismay. “I stayed away as long as I dared. I think it may be too late in the season for that particular wildflower, because I didn’t see a single one.”

  “I don’t understand,” she heard herself saying. “We all asked God to lead you to it. Why didn’t He answer our prayers?”

  “God always answers our prayers,” Henry said kindly, “it’s just that sometimes His answer is no.”

  “Then what are we supposed to do?” she demanded, a single tear sliding down her cheek. “If his fever doesn’t break soon, he could—” She clamped her lips shut, her eyes darting to Matt. She couldn’t say it in front of the boy.

  “One thing we’re going to do is continue to pray and ask God to spare Evan’s life.”

  Juliana buried her face in her hands. Dear Father, I don’t understand why You didn’t allow Henry to find that flower. Based on Your word, I know in my mind that You love Evan and have a plan and a future for him. But my heart is rebelling, Lord. Help me to trust You, God. Please spare Evan. I love him.

  And now she might not ha
ve a chance to tell him. She’d led him to believe that he meant nothing to her. In trying to protect herself, she’d hurt him.

  Henry and Rose stepped closer and took turns praying out loud. Her heart heavy, Juliana couldn’t stop the tears from coursing down her cheeks. Their heartfelt words of petition humbled her. These relative strangers were pouring their hearts out to God, requesting healing for a man they didn’t know. A man they thought was her husband.

  Juliana hated that they’d deceived this dear couple. She was tempted to tell them the truth, but felt like she’d be betraying Evan’s trust if she did. After all, how would they react when they found out he’d kidnapped her?

  Of course, she could tell them the truth without giving them all the details. She made up her mind that if—no, when—Evan got well, she would discuss the matter with him.

  “Mind if I take a look?” Henry splayed a hand toward the tent.

  “Please do.”

  “Juliana.” Rose placed her arm around her shoulders and steered her toward the fire. “You’ve been in there with him all day. Come and sit in the fresh air awhile. Eat something. It will do you good.”

  “I don’t like to be away from him,” she protested.

  “Henry will sit with him until you return. He won’t be alone.”

  “Momma.” Matt’s quiet voice halted their progress. “Can I take Joy to the water’s edge and show her the frogs?”

  “Yes, you may.” She bent to put the girl down. “But don’t take your eyes off her.”

  “I won’t, I promise.” He held out his hand. “Come on.”

  Grinning, Joy placed her tiny hand in his.

  “Mind your brother, Joy,” Rose called after them. “And try not to get wet.”

  At the fire pit, she pressed a cup of coffee into Juliana’s hands. “Have a seat.”

  “No, thanks. I’d rather stand awhile.” Her legs and back were stiff from sitting in that cramped space most of the day. The coffee tasted fresh and strong. She was finally learning to appreciate black coffee.