The Outlaw's Second Chance

by Angie Dicken

  Three sisters for this little girl? Aubrey had always wanted a sister. Perhaps Mama’s death would have been easier to handle with a sister nearby. She could tell that Sarah was a good mother already. Her joyful countenance reminded Aubrey of her own mother in a way.

  “I look forward to meeting your family, Mrs. Jessup,” Cort said. “If you need help getting your wagon upright, let me know. I better head back now, though.” He gave a cordial nod. “I am working with the Hickses today, but forgot my canteen back at my dugout.” Cort turned to Aubrey, his shadowy jawline clenched. “I’ll see you this evening.” His voice was scratchy and low. Almost a whisper. His lips parted as if he would say something else. But he seemed to think better of it and strode past her.

  Aubrey sighed. “I’d love to meet your family, too, but I am on my way to find some work in town before dusk.”

  “Work?” Sarah blew a strand of hair from her face. “Isn’t building a homestead enough?”

  “You would think. I am going to have to work to...um, work.” She flung a gaze over her shoulder, squinting in the brightening daylight. Cort was growing smaller in the distance.

  “Your ranch hand seems mighty capable.”

  “Oh, he is. He’s only around for the short term, but he...he has helped already.” Aubrey fiddled with her lip, tasting a bit of the Oklahoma dust on her fingertip. Sarah was a good judge of character, it seemed.

  “Oh, my. With an injured brother and only yourself out here, you certainly do need an extra hand.” The mother laid her hand atop her belly. “If you need anything, you just holler. Mr. Jessup is always willing to help out a neighbor.”

  “That’s kind of you.” Aubrey looked down at Adelaide. “I’m sorry your dolly’s dress ripped. Maybe you can come down my way, and I’ll mend it for you. I love to sew and I have just the perfect button to add a nice touch.”

  Adelaide’s cheeks perked with a smile and she hopped up and down. “Will you? Oh, thank you, ma’am.” Perhaps she wasn’t so unmannerly after all.

  “You sew?” Sarah asked.

  A swarm of flutters filled Aubrey’s stomach. The mention of sewing, first from her lips and then from Sarah’s, stirred old memories of Mama, threads, fellowship and love. She could only nod. Her mouth seemed stitched closed by the emotional knot tangling in her throat.

  “You might want to check in with the tailor. We were in there yesterday tryin’ to find some quilt scraps to get ready for the baby. He seemed quite overwhelmed.” She shrugged her shoulders. “A woman’s touch might be all his operation needs,” she said, taking Adelaide’s hand then turning to leave. “Hope it all works out for you, Miss Huxley. And a pleasure meeting you.”

  * * *

  Cort watched Aubrey mount his horse and continue on to Alva. This time, at a speed much quicker than before. A train whistled and chugged from across the plains where she was headed.

  Ben was propped up on his elbows, the quilt blanketing his shoulder. “Why’d you give my sister the land?”

  “Don’t worry. I have no ill motives.” Just cowardly ones.

  “You seemed pretty intent on fighting for something you’d go give up at the next turn.”

  Cort let out a jagged laugh, trying to keep his tone even. “Well, friend, you were pretty persistent.”

  “A broken leg’s not going to stop me from protecting my sister. If it weren’t for me, she’d have never found this land.”

  “Oh, do you mean before or after you stole her horse?” Cort held his knit brow, seeing right through his threat. “Ben, you think you need vengeance because I hurt you. I am sorry for that. But I am here to work. There’s nothing else I want.”

  “We’ll see about that, Mr. Stanton. I’ve got a pretty good reason to sit here and watch, thanks to you. And trust me, you won’t get away with whatever you’re scheming.”

  “Scheming?” Cort hung his head, thinking to himself, You’ve got the wrong Stanton.

  “There’s something going on for you to fight so hard and give up so quickly. Aubrey’s hard-pressed to get her ranch going, so she’s let you be. But I won’t be so easy to impress, cowboy.” He glared, then rolled over on his side, blocking his face from Cort’s view.

  At least Aubrey had a brother who cared about her well-being. He’d give Ben that. But a thin spindle pricked Cort—one that had pierced him with fear at the mention of the land surveyor. What lengths would Ben go to to find out exactly why Cort had given Aubrey the land and why he planned to stay in this quiet corner of the world indefinitely?

  He quickly grabbed his canteen and headed back, praying that he could convince Ben, along with his sister, that he was trustworthy.

  When Cort returned to the Hickses, he was glad to guide the conversation to focus on the Jessups and away from the stormy current set in motion by Ben’s scrutiny.

  “Glad everything was okay.” Mrs. Hicks handed Cort a tin mug of thick coffee.

  “Yes, ma’am. Just a little girl in need of her doll.” He chuckled and took a sip. Bitter, but enough flavor to warrant a second gulp. “Now it’s time to get to work.”

  “If you could bring over some of those bricks, Cort, I’ll go ahead and start on the south wall.” Mr. Hicks tugged at his suspenders and rolled up his sleeves. “Mrs. Hicks is mighty thankful that you are helping now.”

  “Why, yes, I am.” She patted Cort’s arm. “My back isn’t what it used to be. You sure you don’t want Mr. Hicks to head back with you this afternoon? I would hate for Miss Huxley and you to have to do all the work it takes to build two homes. That seems treacherous.”

  A cynical laugh escaped Cort’s lips. “Oh, she’s stronger than any woman I’ve met.” His smirk turned into a full-on grin as he eyed the horizon. There was no trace of his landlady. “She thinks she’s going to build her house all on her own.”

  Mrs. Hicks gasped.

  “Impossible!” Mr. Hicks exclaimed.

  “How can she build a home and care for her injured brother?” Mrs. Hicks began to fan herself. The thick heat was nearly visible as it rose from the hot earth and met the rays of sunshine.

  “Good question.” Cort rolled up his sleeves. “Don’t worry, ma’am. I’ll do my best to help her.”

  “That’s good. And know that I will come care for her brother if she needs me.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Hicks.”

  She nodded and began to clear up the dishes into a crate.

  They continued to get their day started. Mrs. Hicks busied about the wagon and started on some mending while Cort took to the plow. It felt good to work. To sweat. To smell the rich dirt mixed with the sweet aroma of sliced grass. This was where Cort found his deepest contentment—labor that tired his muscles and worked up a well-earned ache come nightfall. This type of work kept him honest and gave him room to think and pray.

  He began to pray for Aubrey. The Hickses’ impression of his stubborn boss only bolstered a flame of admiration for the ebony-haired beauty. Bragging about her brought him more enjoyment than it should. He was almost proud of her in a way. Perhaps because he’d caught a glimpse of her misery back at camp with that pathetic man she’d called father. Reading her letter to him had given him a private peek into her sorrow. While guilt began to creep up in Cort’s heart, a larger, more pungent emotion flooded him—his own sorrow from a broken life sprung from wayward roots.

  Aubrey was escaping the weeds of her past. Cort had tried to escape, too. But what Cort couldn’t shake off were the weeds that gripped his ankles and held him prisoner to all he’d witnessed and just kept quiet about before God met him on the plains. Even Ben seemed to sense the rot. Perhaps Ben wouldn’t doubt him if he knew what Cort had really given up. A land title was nothing compared to giving over his life. One day, when the Stanton name was finally redeemed as honorable, it would all be worth it.

  Lord, be with
Charles now. Keep him strong in his word to change his ways. Let the Stanton name be redeemed at every breath I take.

  Another lunge forward with the plow unearthed a thick cloud of dust. The sweet scent met his nostrils. Cort grunted with more effort, forcing himself into another, more fruitful motion. He sliced the ground, working the plow with every ounce of his being.

  While the Hickses were concerned with a woman building a soddie on her own, Cort had enough energy coursing through him right now to build a whole town of soddies. He’d rather plow from Texas to Kansas, feeling nothing but the sweat dripping down his cheek and the shirt clinging to his back. He didn’t want to feel any deeper than that. He didn’t want the temptation of stopping the movement. It was in this toiling that the hours went by without being found. Each moment of his borrowed freedom was a blessing.

  Like he told Aubrey last night, this was his second chance. Even if it might be his last.

  If all he could do was work the land until his time was up, then he’d be satisfied. Working was what Cort Stanton did best.

  By the time noon rolled around, Cort returned to Aubrey’s property wondering if he’d missed seeing her return from across the prairie. Mrs. Hicks had grown worried for Ben and set out ahead to check on him while Cort finished up the last of the bricks. That was fine by Cort. Less chance of confrontation if he showed up alone.

  When Cort returned to find only Mrs. Hicks and Ben, he was in a quandary. “She’s not back yet?” He’d cost himself a sunburn and backache working for the Hickses all morning. Now his mind was set on cutting sod for himself that afternoon, but Aubrey was nowhere to be found and they hadn’t discussed the matter of his plot yet. More than that, though, he worried that she’d found trouble. He couldn’t shake the discomfort of being stuck without his horse to come to any aid that she might need.

  Mrs. Hicks sat fanning herself beneath one of the few trees near Ben, her wrinkles drawn in a tired sag. “Mr. Stanton, this heat is too much. My Mr. Hicks okay?”

  “Don’t worry about him. Before I had a chance to leave, he’d already started snoring inside your wagon. How is Ben?”

  “Poor boy. I fetched him water a few times. He refused at first, wondering who I was. At least he’s in his right mind.”

  Cort thought about their earlier encounter. But before he could respond, the same little girl from this morning bounded across the patch of prairie and stood at Mrs. Hicks’s feet beneath the meager shade of a mesquite.

  “You’re not Miss Huxley.” The girl dropped both arms by her sides in a slouch, her doll dangling from her hand.

  “No, I am not.” Mrs. Hicks straightened and pushed her nose up in the air. “And that’s no way to greet a person, young lady.” Adelaide’s blond curls spilled from the back of her bonnet. “Does your mother know you’re here?” Mrs. Hicks asked. “I daresay a little girl shouldn’t be running around in this heat.”

  “Maybe. I don’t remember.” Adelaide kept her attention downward on her small fingers stroking the doll’s curls. An ache filled Cort’s chest as the girl’s sweet innocence reminded him of his nephew, Trevor. He hoped that the little boy was living the life that Cort had bargained for—that he had sold his freedom for.

  Cort shoved his hands in his pockets and walked up. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Hicks. I know this child.”

  Adelaide spun on her heel and leaned her head back to look up at Cort. “Why, you’re the man who ripped my dolly’s dress.” Her little brow furrowed and her bottom lip stuck out farther than her button nose.

  Cort chuckled. “I saved your dolly, if you’ll remember.” He squatted down eye level with the girl.

  “Do you know where Miss Huxley is? She said she’d fix my doll’s dress.”

  Cort stood up. “I’m wondering the same thing.” He rubbed the back of his neck, searching the prairie once more for any sign of Aubrey.

  The squeaking of a cart squealed across the plain and all attention turned westward. Aubrey led his horse pulling an old rickety cart. Mrs. Jessup strutted alongside her.

  “Adelaide Jessup!” The woman hurried as fast as she could, her swollen belly causing her to struggle. “We’ve told you not to wander, child.”

  Aubrey walked up, her chocolate gaze timid like a doe’s stare. “The Jessups loaned me this cart to carry a board for Ben’s stretcher. I would’ve been here faster if I had the cart in town. How is he?”

  Mrs. Hicks scampered up to standing. “Oh, dear. He’s just fine. I just had to come by and help. I’ve made sure he’s been drinking. He tried reading some. Said his head was fuzzy.”

  “Oh?” Aubrey stared at Mrs. Hicks. “Thank you.” She bounced her eyes from Cort to Mrs. Hicks. Cort stepped up and offered Aubrey and Mrs. Jessup some water.

  Mrs. Jessup spoke breathlessly. “It seems my Addie is persistent. She’s been talking about Miss Huxley all morning.” She loosened the ties of her bonnet. “She ran off just as Miss Huxley came around again.” Her last words squeezed through her teeth, directed at her daughter. A deep red filled Mrs. Jessup’s face. She began to fan herself and gripped Addie’s shoulder.

  “Ma’am, you don’t look well.” Cort rushed to her side. “Here, lean on me, and we’ll go to the shade.” He gave her the canteen for a second time.

  “I s’ppose I should’ve waited until my husband could’ve come looking for Addie. But he was in town getting supplies. I let worry get the best of me.” She brushed aside a stray golden strand and took a long sip of water.

  Aubrey held out her hand to the child. “If you had had patience, I could’ve pulled you here in the cart, and your mama wouldn’t have had to walk all that way.” They jaunted across the grasses. “Come along. We’ll find a pretty button for you.”

  After Cort returned from taking Mrs. Hicks home, the day baked along with everyone settled beneath a thin veil of shade. Aubrey chatted and sewed with Adelaide while Mrs. Jessup rested against a tree. Mrs. Jessup’s tired face was enough to cause alarm. The woman seemed too fatigued to carry her own weight, let alone the addition of a baby’s weight also. Before Cort got too close, he noticed Ben on the other side of the grove, glaring while he perched himself on his elbow. He’d seen that look in a man before. It was nothing but pure trouble. Cort didn’t want any enemies out here. But as Ben’s contemptuous stare followed Cort around the prairie, he wondered if it came down to one of them leaving, who would have to go first? An unsettled current lapped across his heart.

  Cort quickly offered his canteen to the expectant mother, then took his horse to scope out the rest of Aubrey’s land.

  It was a fine acreage. One that he hoped to work for a good long while. Prayer filled his heart for the future, reconciliation with Ben and for Mrs. Jessup’s fatigue.

  At least he received an immediate answer to one of his requests when he returned. Mrs. Jessup was up and about, fussing over Adelaide’s bonnet with a stern crease of maternal frustration etched between her eyebrows.

  Ben was snoozing under the tented quilt again.

  Cort approached the women. “Mrs. Jessup, how about I help you and Adelaide atop my horse and get you home before Mr. Jessup sends out a search party?” He held out his elbow.

  Mrs. Jessup agreed with a nod, tucking her hand in his arm. While he helped the mother and daughter to a sidesaddle position, Aubrey’s voice carried from beneath the tent. A singsong babble, the kind that a nurturer gave to their ill ward. She was a good sister to Ben and a deserving landowner.

  The joy on Aubrey’s face when he relinquished his claim was nearly enough to tamp down his regret for fighting Ben. It was a look he’d forever carry in his heart, no matter where his heart might beat its last beat. The dark-lashed brown eyes had been wide and dazzling, and her lips were slightly parted as if she would speak. But she had just stared at him without speaking a word, her ebony hair carrying upon the hot breeze of the prairie.
Yes, Aubrey Huxley had outshone the sun that day, and he’d never forget it. No matter how much he should. Now, as she approached them from the tent in the crimson light of sunset, a new flood of awe swelled in his heart. She was just as beautiful, even more so, as he watched her stand tall with hope even amid all her hardship.

  Aubrey spoke as she walked toward them. “Now, don’t lose that button. It’s one of my mama’s.” She smiled at the child then squeezed Mrs. Jessup’s hand. “You take care of your mama, Addie.”

  “Why don’t you join us, Miss Huxley?” Cort suggested. “Your brother’s been well taken care of all afternoon. Do you think he’ll mind?” Cort wanted to discuss the plot of land that he would lease. Strolling with a beautiful lady at day’s end had little to do with it. At least, he tried to convince himself that the romantic notion had not one ounce of weight in his invitation.

  Aubrey nodded with a gentle smile. “There is a matter I’d like to discuss with you, too.” She nibbled her lip then turned her attention to tying her bonnet. This soft side of Aubrey only kindled more affection in him. He almost wished she had said no. If his confession about second chances last night had earned a chance from Aubrey, he worried that it would only make him lazy in keeping a good distance between his heart and his reason. She knew nothing of his dishonorable family, nor the magnitude of his uneasy future. He shouldn’t fool her into becoming a friend. A twist of his gut told Cort to remember himself before it was too late.

  “I have some business matters to discuss with you, as well. It will be nice to get it settled before daybreak tomorrow,” Cort said. He clicked his tongue and led the horse toward the west. Aubrey followed close behind.

  Good. He’d made it all about business.

  His fanciful dreaming had no place on this trail toward a setting sun.

  Chapter Six

  “Thank you for lending me your horse again,” Aubrey said against the relentless prairie wind that had carried dust all day long. The grit of the land settled in her teeth and on her cheeks and every inch of her, it seemed.