Loving an Outlaw

by Kristen Iten

  “You’re a good man, Jake,” said Abigail. “Did you get Henry to the doctor?”

  “Yes, but he didn’t make it through the night.”

  “I’m so sorry.” The story of Jake’s loss struck a chord with Abigail’s raw emotions. Her chin quivered as heat rushed into her cheeks. She swallowed hard to find relief from the lump that was growing in her throat. I should have been there for Jonathan like he was for Henry.

  Jake squeezed her hand as if he could read her mind. The closeness she felt comforted her heart.

  “A friend took the horse back for me in the morning but Wagoner didn’t care. He was busy organizing his ranch hands into a lynch mob while I was getting ready to bury my brother.”

  “A lynch mob?” Abigail was horrified. “That can’t be legal.”

  “It’s called frontier justice,” said Jake. “I couldn’t even attend my own brother’s funeral. They were waiting for me there.”

  “What a horrid man,” said Abigail.

  “His boys had to give up looking for me pretty quick. It was time to drive the herds north to the railheads in Kansas. Once he called off the hunt, Wagoner made sure my wanted poster was plastered all over every town within two hundred miles. I’ve been drifting ever since. It’s been a long, lonely three years.”

  “That’s why you wanted to head west. You were going to start over, and I’ve ruined it for you.”

  “Abby, you could never ruin anything for me,” he said. Jake’s voice took on a tone that Abigail had never heard him use before. “Everything is better with you around.”

  She let the words sink into her.

  “Three years is an awfully long time. Would you still get in trouble if they find you?” she asked.

  “Horse thieving is a hanging offense in these parts, and folks around here have long memories,” said Jake.

  “Then you can’t stay,” said Abigail. “Forget my ranch. You have to get out of here. You still have time to catch up with the miners.”

  “I’ll admit that staying isn’t the smartest choice I’ve ever made, but I’m not leaving you here alone.”

  “Your life is in danger here.”

  “So is yours,” said Jake. “I wish you would let me take you back to Pennsylvania.”

  Abigail bowed her head, speaking in a low tone. “I can’t go back,” she said.

  “Then I can’t go west.”

  Chapter 14

  Two middle-aged men sat across from each other in a small office that smelled of stale tobacco and sweat. Neither man knew exactly what to make of the other. They secretly sized each other up.

  “And what kind of influence could you possibly hope to exert that will convince her to leave with me?” Doctor William Price leaned back in the same chair that Abigail had sat in the day before. His thumbs rested in his gray vest pockets. He puffed his small chest out and continued speaking with a voice that grated on his companion’s ears. “Miss Dodd made her opinion of you quite clear this morning.”

  James Penlapp placed his elbows on the desk in front of him. His fingers formed a steeple, and he leaned forward wearing a steely expression on his face. “I believe the same thing could be said about you.” A smile bereft of all kindness appeared on his face.

  Price cleared his throat and mumbled something inaudible.

  “We can either sit here and trade jabs all day, or we can come to an arrangement,” said Penlapp. “I want the property. You want Miss Dodd. Those two objectives work hand in hand and so must we.”

  “I still don’t see how you’re going to convince that stiff necked child to sell, much less leave with me. She is infuriatingly obstinate.”

  “My good doctor, do you know how I got my start in banking?”

  Dr. Price looked at Penlapp with dull, unblinking eyes.

  “Evictions. I specialized in evictions in my early years back east. Let us just say …” Penlapp paused for effect. “The talent has never fully left me.”

  “I presume you are referring to evicting individuals who were delinquent on their payments to the bank,” said Price. “I don’t see how that skill is of any use in this situation. It doesn’t matter how much talent—as you call it—you have in such matters. The fact remains that you cannot evict a person from a property they own free and clear. You told me yourself that the bank does not hold a mortgage on the property.”

  “You let me handle that end of the bargain. All I need is assurance from you that when she is ready to go, you will sell to me.”

  “Why are you so interested in getting your hands on that property?” Price ventured.

  The creases in Penlapp’s forehead deepened as his brows drew together in a scowl. “My reasons are my own. Do we have a deal or don’t we?”

  “Of course. I don’t want that land. All I’m interested in is the money,” said Price with a wave of his hand.

  Penlapp let out a hearty laugh. “Now, we’re getting to the heart of the matter.” He slapped his desk, rattling the contents of the top drawer. “You need her money.” The gold chain of his pocket watch jingled as his round belly continued to shake with laughter.

  Price stiffened in his chair, dabbing his face with a neatly folded handkerchief. “Need is a rather extreme word for it.” He made a great show of placing the handkerchief back in his breast pocket and positioning it just so. “Though, I must confess that a large influx of cash would be fortuitous at the present.”

  “All this time I thought you followed that young thing across the country because you loved her, but you’re purely a mercenary, aren’t you?” A wicked smile spread across Penlapp’s face. “Any time a fine man confesses to needing a large sum of money, they’re up to no good. What’s your vice, doctor?” Penlapp raised his eyebrows.

  “Nothing so crude as that. It is no secret that I’m being considered for a very prestigious position as head of surgery at one of the foremost hospitals in the country.” Price paused, but the only response Penlapp gave was a flat expression.

  Dr. Price crossed his legs and placed his folded hands on his knee. “Let’s just say,” Price emphasized the words like Penlapp had done only a few minutes before, “that a sizable donation on my part wouldn’t hurt my chances of being selected for the job.” He cleaned his fingernails in a nonchalant way, as if his plan were perfectly common place.

  “Am I right in assuming that you’re rather anxious to get your hands on her money?”

  “I prefer to call it our money, but yes. Some months ago I learned of a sizable inheritance Abigail and her brother were to receive from the sale of their family farm many years ago. You can imagine how put out I was to find that her brother had taken the money when he left. I came to Texas to retrieve Abigail’s half of the inheritance and take her home,” said Price. “I have invested too much time to simply walk away with nothing.”

  “And now that you know there is no brother around, she means twice the money to you.” Penlapp did not believe in mincing words.

  “Dreadful turn of events, but you know what they say about clouds …” Dr. Price wore smug look on his face, impressed by his clever way with words.

  “No,” said Penlapp dryly, “what do they say about clouds?”

  “Only that one should always look for the silver lining.”

  Chapter 15

  Jake’s horse drank deeply from the water trough outside the saloon. “Are you sure I can’t drop you off at Miss Rosie’s?”

  “No, Rosie said the sheriff comes over most afternoons for a cup of wild mint tea. He could be there now.”

  Jake lifted the brim of his hat with his index finger. “I never figured the sheriff to be a tea drinking man,” he said. “Didn’t Miss Rosie say that he stops by every night during his rounds?”

  “Apparently, he stops by twice a day most of the time,” said Abigail. She raised her eyebrows twice in quick succession as a playful grin illuminated her face. “I’d better get going. I have some letters to write. I should have sent them off already, but so much has happe
ned in the last few days. Aunt Virginia really should hear about Jonathan from me.”

  “I’ll come by tomorrow morning, and we can make some plans for the ranch,” said Jake. He craned his neck to get a better view of the boarding house. “I can’t see anybody from here. Why don’t I just take you home?”

  Abigail rested her hand on his forearm. Her touch sent a thrill through his body.

  “I need you to be safe,” she said.

  Their eyes met, and Jake felt at home for the first time in years. “All right then,” he said. “See you tomorrow.”

  Abigail’s hand lingered for a moment longer before she turned to leave.

  Jake rested his folded arms on Horse’s rump and watched Abigail walk away.

  “You just going to stand there daydreaming, cowboy?” The sultry voice of a woman called from the door of the saloon. Jake looked up and saw a long-legged woman wearing a ruby red satin dress. Her black lace ruffles served only to enhance a scandalously low cut neckline.

  “I only stopped to water my horse, ma’am.”

  “This is the best watering hole for man or beast you’ll find for miles around.” She leaned on the door frame, propping the hinged door open with her body. She nodded her head toward the bar inside. “Are you coming?”

  “I think I’ll stick to my daydreams, ma’am.” Jake tipped his hat and led his animal back down the road the way he had come.

  The sound of Rosie’s bubbly laughter reached Abigail’s ears as she neared the boarding house. She paused at the base of the steps leading to the porch and took in the scene before her.

  “Don’t give it a second thought,” said Rosie, “it’s only tea.”

  A tall glass lay on its side. The contents had spilled over the edge of a barrel Miss Rosie used as an outdoor table. Sheriff Lagrange awkwardly brushed his calloused hand over a freshly tea stained tablecloth.

  Rosie and Micah reached for the cup at the same time. Her hand landed on the smooth surface of the glass while his came to rest on her delicate fingers. Their eyes met, but Rosie was only able to hold his gaze for a moment before blood rushed into her cheeks. She looked away and slipped her fingers out from under his hand. She managed a shy smile with a quick glance in the sheriff’s direction.

  “I suppose you could use a refill,” said Rosie, gathering her composure. She stood to fetch the pitcher of tea but froze when she noticed Abigail standing at the bottom of the steps.

  “Thank heavens you’re all right. Micah told me about what happened.” Miss Rosie hurried to Abigail’s side. “I was getting a little worried. You clean disappeared after that nasty business.” She put her arm around Abigail’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “I was about to send Micah out looking for you. That terrible little man made quite a scene. To think, all of that mess happened the same morning that sweet boy of yours left town. When it rains, it pours.”

  Rosie and Abigail climbed the steps arm in arm. “I was beginning to hope Jake would reconsider and settle in these parts,” said Rosie. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m fine, but I owe you a big thank you.” Abigail looked at Sheriff Lagrange. “I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t been there, Sheriff.”

  “Just doing my job, ma’am,” said Micah. “What’s this about your friend leaving town?”

  “He joined the mining party,” said Rosie.

  “He never came to talk to me about those hombres that hit the stage. I went looking for him, but he’s not an easy fellow to track down.”

  “Well, he didn’t actually leave with the miners,” said Abigail.

  Rosie inhaled sharply and hid a large smile behind her hand. Abigail wasn’t quite sure what to say next.

  “I don’t think he’ll be by to talk to you any time soon, though.”

  The sheriff’s eyebrows rose.

  “Jake told me that he didn’t know anything about the outlaws. They were too far away for him to get a good look.”

  Micah’s mustache shifted from side to side as if it were uncomfortable in its usual position under his nose. “Is that what he told you?”

  “Yes, that’s what he said. He didn’t know any of those men. I mean, how could he? It’s not like he’s a desperate criminal or anything.” Abigail’s giggle was painfully awkward. It was the kind of laugh that begs to be bottled up and never released into the world again.

  Micah stood up from his seat on the rocking chair. “It’s good to know that you don’t associate with desperate criminals, Miss Abigail.” Two long strides brought him across the porch to where Abigail and Rosie were standing.

  “I’ll see you tonight, Miss Rosie.” The sheriff’s voice was deep but held a note of softness when it was directed at Rosie. He tipped his hat. “Ladies.”

  Rosie’s eyes followed the sheriff’s every move until he disappeared into the general store. Abigail watched with a smile on her face.

  “Are you going to invite me?” said Abigail.

  “I’m sorry. I wasn’t listening, dear.” Rosie blinked her eyes and tossed her head as if waking from a dream.

  “Are you going to invite me to the wedding?”

  “Wedding?” Rosie opened the door for Abigail.

  “I expect you and Micah will be setting a date any day now.” Abigail winked at her friend.

  Rosie’s laughter was interrupted by a man clearing his throat. Abigail looked over her shoulder and saw James Penlapp standing in the street. He held his hat in one hand and a small bouquet of flowers in the other.

  “Excuse my intrusion, ladies, but I simply had to come by and make my peace with Miss Dodd.”

  Undaunted by the icy silence that met him, he continued, “It lays heavy on my heart to know that you believe me to be a swindler.” For all the sorrow that pinched his features, his eyes held all the sincerity of an apologetic fox after breaking into the hen house. “My dear girl, I assure you that I am as honest as the day is long. Any discrepancies you may have noticed in our interactions this morning were strictly a misunderstanding. I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me. I would still very much like to do business with you.”

  Abigail shifted her weight, crossing her arms in front of her. It was clear that Penlapp was far from finished with his speech. She sighed within herself.

  “If I had married as a younger man, I would like to think that my daughter would be just like you—”

  “Are you going to stand there talking until all of those fine flowers wither up and lose their petals, or are you going to give her the bouquet?” Rosie rested her hands on her hips and pressed her lips tightly together.

  “I beg your pardon, ma’am, but these flowers are not for Miss Dodd.” Penlapp placed his hat over his heart and bowed his head. “This bouquet is meant for the grave of the late Mr. Dodd. I pick a fresh bouquet for his grave whenever I have the chance.”

  Abigail half expected him to begin wiping invisible tears from his cheeks.

  “Why?” she said.

  Penlapp’s eyes shot up to meet Abigail’s. They were filled with equal portions of surprise and amusement. His bottom jaw worked up and down, but no words were formed.

  “Do you put flowers on every grave in the cemetery?” asked Abigail.

  “Well, no—”

  “Why Jonathan’s grave then?”

  Penlapp removed one of the flowers from the bouquet and offered it to Abigail.

  “It must be that you two young people occupy a special place in my heart.”

  Abigail took the flower. “I don’t hold anything against you, but we won’t be doing business anytime soon.”

  Penlapp’s brow furrowed. “May I ask why?” His tone had lost its rich timber and was now flat, devoid of all pretension.

  “I have decided to stay. I’m going to finish building the ranch. Sweet Creek is my home now.”

  Rosie spoke up. “Don’t let us keep you from paying your respects.” Her voice was as sweet as sugar, but the look in her eyes betrayed her absolute disdain for the m
an standing in front of her home. She placed a hand on Abigail’s back and ushered her into the house.

  Dry grass crunched beneath worn leather boots as a tall man finished setting up a cold camp outside of town. The last rays of the sun had just disappeared beneath the horizon, but he couldn’t risk a fire. It was important that he remain hidden among the scrub oaks and rocky terrain.

  He stretched out his bedroll and settled in for a long night on watch. The fingers of his right hand drummed on the well-oiled holster that cradled his revolver. His eyes were fixed on one building in particular. Miss Rosie’s boardinghouse. From his vantage point, he could spot anyone approaching the front or back of the building.

  Satisfied that his long gun was well within reach, he took a drink from his canteen.

  “Don’t you worry, Abby. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

  Jake looked up and found Abigail’s star. “Looks like you’re going to have company after all,” he said toward the sky.

  Chapter 16

  Abigail sat on the back stoop and watched blue-bellied song birds chase one another across the open space behind Miss Rosie’s boarding house. She cradled her chin in her hands, blowing a few strands of hair out of her face.

  Miss Rosie stepped past her carrying a basket of wet wash.

  “Let me hang that up for you,” said Abigail.

  “You’ve done far too much already, you darlin’ girl.” Miss Rosie’s face scrunched into her famous smile. “Over the past week, you’ve polished my silver, organized my pantry, and deep cleaned my sitting room. I’d say you’ve earned some idle time.”

  “I like to keep busy I suppose.”

  “I know what would keep you busy.” A coy smile played on Miss Rosie’s lips. “You could go inspect that handsome young man’s work out at your ranch.” Miss Rosie let out a mischievous laugh the likes of which Abigail had never heard before.

  Abigail’s cheeks flushed. “Well, I wouldn’t want to get in his way,” she said.