The Outlaw's Daughter

by Margaret Brownley

  “If living on the lam isn’t punishment, I don’t know what is.”

  “So what’s your excuse?”

  Matt arched an eyebrow. “My excuse?”

  “Granted, what you do is more respectable than what I do. But the results are the same. We’re both running from the past. So what do you have to feel guilty about?”

  Matt stared at him. True, he’d wondered if he’d let his brother down in some way. But it had nothing to do with guilt. Nothing to do with choosing to live life on a saddle rather than settling down. Nothing to do with leaving the woman he loved.

  Startled by the last thought, he drew in his breath. “I’m not running,” he said.

  Charley shrugged. “Whatever you say.”

  “Right now, I say to drop your gun,” Matt said. “Let’s not make this any more difficult than it already is.”

  “You’re the one making it difficult,” Charley said.

  Matt’s patience snapped. “Do you think I like this? Like having to arrest you? You have no idea how many nights I’ve spent wondering what I could have done differently. How I could have saved you.”

  “I’m not a child anymore,” Charley said. “You don’t have to save me.”

  “You’re still my brother,” Matt said. “Nothing’s ever gonna change that.”

  Some undefined emotion crossed Charley’s face just before he turned and walked away.

  “Stop. Where do you think you’re going?”

  Charley paused midstep. “What are you gonna do? Shoot me in the back?” He peered over his shoulder. “My money says you won’t.” He started walking away again.

  “I said stop, dang it!”

  Charley kept walking, and Matt fired a warning shot. The bullet hit the ground no more than two feet away from Charley’s feet, but he kept walking.

  When a second warning shot failed to stop him, Matt took off after him. Just as he reached out his hand, Charley swung around. With lightning speed, he grabbed Matt’s arm at the wrist and wrenched the gun upward. Before Matt could gain control of the gun, Charley kneed him between the legs.

  The gun dropped out of Matt’s hand. “Arrgh.” Bent over in pain, he looked up to find Charley’s gun pointed at him.

  “Don’t move,” Charley said.

  “Or what? You’ll shoot me?”

  “Don’t make me do something we’ll both regret.” Releasing the safety catch of his gun, Charley kicked Matt’s Colt away. He tossed a nod at the handcuffs hanging from Matt’s belt and inclined his head toward the porch. “You know what to do.”

  Hands held outward, Matt searched Charley’s face for some sign of the brother he’d once known, the brother who would have sooner jumped off a cliff than hurt someone. But the eyes looking back at him belonged to a stranger.

  Charley’s expression darkened. “You heard me. Move it!”

  “Don’t do this, Charley. Let me take you in. We’ll find you the best lawyers. It’s what Pa would have wanted—”

  “Shut your mouth,” Charley said, scowling. “I don’t want to hear it.” With a nod of his head, he indicated the porch. “Move!”

  Matt started toward the porch without another word. Charley had been so sure that Matt couldn’t shoot him, and dang it, he’d been right. All that business about treating his brother like any other outlaw had been a lie. Not only had Matt failed the Texas Rangers, he’d failed himself.

  As if guessing his thoughts, Charley said, “If you’re wondering whether I could pull this trigger, let me assure you I can and will. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll do as I say.”

  Looking into Charley’s hard, cold eyes sent a chill crawling down Matt’s spine. At that moment, he had no doubt that Charley meant every word.

  Matt unclipped his cuffs. “This isn’t how it was meant to be. You and me. We were meant to be a team.”

  Charley indicated the cuffs in Matt’s hands with a nod of his head. “Shut up and do it!”

  Even as Matt snapped one cuff on his own wrist and the other cuff to the porch railing, he kept talking. What he couldn’t do with his gun, he hoped he could do with his words. To that end, he spoke of their childhood and the battles they had fought together and won.

  Charley stared at Matt long and hard, a suspicious gleam in his dark, sad eyes. Matt felt his hopes rise, only to be dashed a moment later.

  “Sorry, Brother,” Charley said, his voice breaking. “Maybe you’ll have better luck the next time we meet.” He then holstered his gun and lumbered away.

  35

  Ellie-May lowered her mending to her lap. “That’s a very nice picture,” she said to her son, who had spent most of the afternoon drawing.

  “This is Anvil,” Lionel explained, pointing to a stick figure. “And he’s catching a big fish.”

  “So I see,” Ellie-May said.

  “I drew a picture for you, too, Ma.” He held up a second drawing. “It’s you trying to cook Anvil’s fish.”

  Ellie-May laughed at the large fish flopping over the length of a stove.

  Lionel looked pleased. “I knew I could make you laugh,” he said, his eyes solemn. “I don’t like it when you look sad.” He brightened. “Maybe my drawing will make Anvil laugh, too.”

  Ellie-May studied her son and felt the frozen lake of her heart begin to melt. Since Matt had left, she hadn’t felt much like laughing. Hadn’t felt much like doing anything. She’d been so wrapped up in her own feelings, she’d failed to notice how her dark mood affected her children. Now that she thought about it, Anvil hadn’t been himself lately, either.

  Knowing the reason behind her own melancholy, she had a pretty good idea what was going on with Anvil. The question was what to do about it.

  It took Ellie-May most of the night to think up a plan. She wasn’t sure it would work, but it was worth a try. She found Anvil the following morning in the barn, changing a wagon wheel. He looked up as she approached.

  “Something wrong?” he asked.

  She drew in her breath. “Yes…you’re fired.” It wasn’t the speech she’d practiced, but judging by the look of disbelief on his face, it had shocked him out of his lethargic mood.

  “Wh-what did you say?” he stammered.

  She folded her arms across her chest. “You heard me.”

  Anvil tossed his wrench into his toolbox and stood. “You can’t fire me,” he said.

  “I just did.”

  He frowned. “How are you and the children gonna get along without me? Eh? Tell me that.”

  “I’m sure we’ll manage,” she said. She hated letting him go, but it was for his own good. She doubted he could survive another winter in the drafty loft.

  His forehead ridged like a washboard, he studied her. “What’s this really about?”

  “Ever since you stopped seeing Mrs. Buttonwood, you’ve been moping around like a lost puppy. Even the children have noticed.”

  “I wouldn’t talk if I was you. You ain’t exactly been a barrel of laughs yourself, you know.” When she made no comment, Anvil narrowed his eyes. “So you think that firin’ me will make me what? Accept her proposal?”

  “Actually, I was hoping me firing you would make you propose to Mrs. Buttonwood yourself.”

  He stepped back, an incredulous look on his face. “You want me to propose to her? B-b-but if I do that, we might end up gettin’ hitched,” he stammered.

  She laughed. “That’s usually how it works.”

  His eyebrows drew together. “I don’t know, Miss Ellie-May,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t even know if she’s the right woman for me.”

  “Maybe it’s time you found out,” Ellie-May said.

  “Maybe.” He thumbed the straps of his overalls. “But then there’s the promise I made to myself after your husband died. I promised to take care of his family like he took care of me
.”

  “You’ve done that,” Ellie-May said, her voice breaking with emotion. “And I’ll always be grateful. But Neal would have wanted what’s best for you. He would have wanted you to be happy.”

  “I am happy,” Anvil said. “Or at least I was till you fired me.”

  Ellie-May sighed. “All right, you’re not fired. For now.”

  He tossed a nod at the wagon wheel. “Does that mean I can go back to work?”

  She nodded. “But only if you promise to think about what I said.”

  “I’ll think about it. But don’t go ‘spectin’ me to change my mind.”

  Ellie-May sighed. “All right. You win for now. But I’m not giving up.”

  Anvil lifted his eyes to the ceiling. “Unfortunately, neither is Mrs. Buttonwood.”

  * * *

  By the time Parker and Madison arrived at the cabin and released Matt from the handcuffs, it had already turned dark, and Charley was long gone.

  Most of the others, including the captain, had turned in by the time the three of them rode into camp, and only a few glowing embers of the campfire remained.

  Without bothering to undress, Matt threw himself on his cot and spent the rest of the night staring at the dark and going over everything that had happened.

  He felt about as bad as it was possible to feel, and his throbbing head had nothing to do with it. His brother had escaped, yet again, and it was all his fault.

  He should have planned better. Should have waited for Parker and Madison. Should have done a dozen things differently. Once again, his impatience had gotten the best of him.

  Or maybe it was his arrogance. He’d been so certain he alone could save his brother. Well, Charley had relieved him of that notion.

  Never would Matt forget Charley’s expression while holding him at gunpoint. Would his brother have pulled the trigger? It was a question Matt didn’t want to answer.

  After a long and sleepless night, Matt greeted the bright morning sun with a groan. He kicked off his thin blanket and rose. Running his fingers through his hair, he left the tent without bothering with his morning ablutions and immediately regretted it. He’d hoped to grab a cup of coffee before having to face the captain.

  But Captain McDonald was already up and immaculately groomed, with not a hair out of place. He greeted Matt with a frown and thrust a cup of coffee in his hand. “You look like you need that more than I do.”

  Wishing he’d taken the time to at least shave, Matt took a sip of the hot brew and waited for the captain to pour himself another cup. “I let Charley get away again,” he said.

  The captain arched an eyebrow. “Let him?”

  Matt drew in his breath. “I told you I would treat him like any other criminal. I didn’t. For that reason, I have no choice but to turn in my resignation.”

  The captain took a sip of his coffee before speaking. “You’re one of my best men,” he said, surprising Matt with his praise. “Men as dedicated as you are hard to come by. It would be a shame for you to quit.”

  For a long while, Matt didn’t say anything. He kept thinking of something Ellie-May had said. You were a brother before you were a Ranger.

  The echo of her words ringing in his head, he gripped his cup. “You once told me that your men had to be Rangers first. Everything else had to come in second.”

  The captain nodded. “I still stand by those words.”

  “I put Charley before my job. I put family first. For that reason, it’s best if I go.”

  The captain stared at him long and hard. “Anything I can say to make you change your mind?”

  Matt shook his head. “No, nothing.”

  “So what are your plans?”

  Matt drew in his breath. Good question. “Haven’t got that far yet.” He hadn’t thought much past that moment.

  The captain took another sip of coffee and said. “Sorry to see you go.”

  “Yeah, me, too.” Matt drained his cup and walked back to his tent. Glancing at the stained canvas walls, he wondered what would be next. He didn’t know anything but how to be a Ranger. That had been his life for more than ten years.

  He shaved and packed up his few belongings. He was just about to leave the tent when he heard a shout outside.

  “We got him.”

  Frowning, Matt stuck his head through the tent opening. “Got who?” he called.

  “We got Charley,” Madison called from atop his horse.

  His heart in his throat, Matt stepped outside the tent. That was when he saw him—his brother astride a pony, his hands cuffed behind his back. As much as he’d wanted to be the one bringing him in, it was a relief to see Charley unhurt.

  “Where’d you find him?” Matt asked.

  Madison dismounted before answering. “It was the strangest thing,” he said, shaking his head. “We found him by the side of the road. Just sitting there as if he was waiting for us.” According to Madison’s account, Charley had seemed like he wanted to be caught.

  Matt turned a questioning gaze in Charley’s direction. For a split second, Matt caught a glimpse of the brother he’d once known. The brother who used to follow him around and climb into his bed at night. The brother who had clung to him the day of their father’s death.

  All too soon, the sneering face and mocking eyes returned. But Matt had seen, and he knew. What Madison said was true; Charley had wanted to be caught.

  Maybe he was just tired of running. Or perhaps his conscience had gotten the better of him. Maybe he’d finally punished himself enough for Pa’s death. Maybe something Matt said had finally penetrated Charley’s thick skull. Whatever the reason for his brother’s change of heart, one thing was clear—Charley had wanted to be stopped. Needed to be stopped. He just didn’t want Matt to be the one stopping him.

  For one fleeting moment in time, Matt had caught a glimpse into his brother’s soul…and maybe even his heart. It was enough to know that Charley had protected him as he had so often protected Charley. He’d done that by making sure that Matt would never have to go through the agony of arresting him.

  The two of them were still a team.

  * * *

  Ellie-May set her basket of clean laundry next to the clothesline. The sky was crystal clear and the sun blazing hot, but she’d hardly noticed.

  Matt was very much on her mind and for good reason. News of his brother’s capture had graced the front page of the Haywire Dispatch that morning.

  She’d searched the newspaper in vain for Matt’s name. The Texas Rangers were given full credit for the man’s capture, but no individual names were mentioned.

  Sighing, she reached for a wet towel. Matt had been gone for more than three months, but the memory of him was just as strong now as it had been the day he’d left. The misery of missing him just as intense.

  Such were her thoughts, so when she noticed the black horse by the barn, she thought at first she was imagining things. But it sure did look like Matt’s horse, Justice.

  Abandoning her wash, she hiked up her skirt and rushed to the barn.

  Inside, Matt greeted her with a smile. “Hello, Ellie-May.”

  Her breath caught in her chest. He looked every bit as tall as she remembered. Every bit as handsome. “I…I didn’t expect you to come back,” she said. It irritated her that after all this time, the mere sight of him could still make her heart beat faster.

  “I didn’t expect to come back,” he said.

  She gave him a questioning look. “What are you doing here?”

  He glanced around the barn. “Right now, I’m thinking about the first time we met,” he said. “You with a shotgun.”

  The memory brought a flush to her face, and she moistened her lips. “I…I read about your brother’s capture in the paper,” she said. “I looked for your name.”

  “He’s serving time in the s
tate pen.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “It must be hard for you.”

  “Not as hard as it was when he was on the loose. At least now I know he’s safe. With good behavior, he’ll be out in a few years.”

  “That’s…that’s good to hear.”

  “The thing is…” He looked away for a moment as if to gather his thoughts. “I didn’t capture him. Someone else did.” He paused for a moment as if to let that sink in. “Made me realize there are dozens of men who could do the job I’d set for myself. Dozens of capable men who can bring outlaws to their knees.” His voice grew hoarse. “But there’s only one man who can love you the way I love you. Love your children the way I do, and that man is me.”

  She stared at him, not sure she could trust her own ears, let alone her eyes. Was she dreaming? Was he really standing there? Had he really said what she thought he’d said? Or was she simply imagining him there as she had so many times before.

  “Why…why are you saying these things?” she stammered.

  “Because they’re true. Every last word.” Closing the distance between them, he took both her hands in his. Only then, upon feeling his touch, did she dare believe this wasn’t a dream. He was real. The moment was real. She tried to speak but couldn’t find her voice.

  He gazed into her eyes with such tenderness, he took her breath away. When he spoke again, his voice was thick with emotion. “For three long months, I’ve been telling myself that I’m not the kind to settle down, but it turns out that I was only lying to myself. You’re all I could think about. The only one I want to be with. Lionel said I’d made a good pa, and I’d like the chance to prove him right.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes. Never did she think to hear such sweet words. “Oh, Matt,” she managed at last. “Are you sure? Your pa…?”

  He nodded and squeezed her hands. “You once asked me how many criminals it would take to make up for my pa’s death. I don’t know if there is an answer to that. But I do know this: it would only take loving one woman—loving you—to make me the happiest man in the world. I love you, Ellie-May Blackwell. And I think Pa would approve. But”—he searched her face—“I need to know if there’s any chance that you and I—”