by Natalie Dean
Mary-Lee thought of that day when bullets had rained outside her home. She still felt a sense of fury that they had dared to invade inside. Even though their mess had been taken care of and the ceramic mugs replaced with new ones, she could not subdue the outrage within her at the thought of those wastrels coming into her home and tossing her possessions to the floor as if they were worthless. She was sure that Lance Townsend had given them the instructions to do what they had done; it had the mark of his malicious sense of a joke.
“You’ll take care of yourself?” she said anxiously.
Benjamin paused in the act of loading one of the rifles with bullets. “Hon,” he said gently. “I’m always careful.”
There was so much she wanted to say to him but could not. To admit that she feared for his safety was to concede her vulnerability. To confess how much she loved him, or how powerfully she felt that she was falling in love with him faster than reason could rein her in, would be like a surrender. She, Mary-Lee Jameson had never been one to give in to weakness, and love could easily be a weakness.
“Don’t fret, Mary-Lee,” he said, raising her chin with his finger so that their eyes met. “We’ve got some men from town riding with us. They’re good men; they know how to shoot, and they aren’t the kind who’ll be ruled by the Townsends. You saw the parade yesterday; you know how many of the men in Knox Mills have fought for what they believe in. The Townsends aren’t going to win this one.” Lowering his face to hers, he kissed her, at first tenderly as if for the first time, but then harder and more passionately, as if he could not kiss her enough.
He let her go and exhaled sharply. “I’ll saddle up Bette for you,” he said. “Piper is having a prayer circle with the other wives of the men who are riding with us. She’d like you to join them at eight o’clock this morning.”
Mary-Lee nodded. “I will,” she said. “I’d rather be going with you though.”
Benjamin laughed at that. “Hon,” he said, “you’d be the devil of a distraction.”
“What do you mean?” she demanded.
Benjamin shook his head. Danged if that little woman couldn’t go from soft and sweet to fiery and fierce in seconds. “I’d be fussing over you like a mother hen,” he said. “I couldn’t do my job for worrying about you.”
“I can fend for myself,” she said. “I told you—“
Benjamin sighed. “I know you did,” he said. “And I know you can. But there’s something about loving a woman that makes a man want to keep her safe. Don’t ask me what causes it, I don’t know. But it’s so. Promise me that you’ll ride over to Piper and join the prayer circle? It would mean a lot to her and . . . “ he smiled. “I won’t refuse any prayers that are sent along our way.”
Mary-Lee did as he asked, mounting Bette and riding to the Walker home as soon as she had finished tidying the kitchen after breakfast.
Piper thanked her. “I’ve done missionary work before, and whenever something like this happens,” she said, leading Mary-Lee into the parlor where two other women were already gathering, “I want to go to the Lord in prayer first thing.”
The women were strangers to Mary-Lee. Piper introduced them. “This is Maggie Calhoun; her husband is Custis. And that is Leda Raice, her husband was actually born in Knox Mills, so he’s been here longer than any of us.”
Maggie was a round-faced woman with an unruly mane of light-brown hair that seemed as if it would not stay inside hairpins. “My husband may not be able to walk without a limp,” she said proudly, “but he can sit a horse with no problem, and when the marshal asked if he’d join the scouting party, he took the badge.”
The other woman, a tall, slender lady, who looked to be the oldest in the room, was bobbing her head in agreement. “My Elmer, the same. He says that if we don’t back up the law, next thing we know, there won’t be any law in Knox Mills.”
Mary-Lee recognized the Calhoun name; Benjamin was having a rocking chair made for the parlor, and he said that Mr. Calhoun did fine work. She had not heard the Raice name before but was impressed that there was someone who had such long roots in the town. Knox Mills seemed to be a haven for those who had come from other places; it was remarkable to think of the town as having been here before the outsiders discovered it.
“Ladies, this is Mary-Lee Graves; her husband is Deputy Marshal Benjamin Graves. I am sure others would like to join us,” Piper said, “but they have children and duties to attend to. Ladies, the best way to approach our Lord with our supplication is on our knees.”
The women knelt upon the floor. Mary-Lee followed suit, but her thoughts were far from worshipful. This gathering was her fault. The men rode off because she had the deeds to gold mines and Lance Townsend wanted them. That he would be willing to kill to obtain them was not impossible, especially now that he was safe in Knox Mills, a town in which his wily uncle was a powerful man.
“Dear Lord,” Piper began, her eyes closed in prayer, “hear us as we beseech you to bring our men back to us in safety. They go out to do your work and your will, Lord, for you delight in the law. Know them as your servants and keep them from harm . . . “
Mary-Lee, although her hands were clasped in prayer and her eyes were closed, felt fidgety. Did no one else want to ride out with the men, to be with them, doing something?
“We are your humble servants, Lord, and we honor you in our own way. But we cannot protect our menfolk from harm and that is why we come to you today, to seek your strength and guidance as you shield them from harm. You are the God who is never weary, whose love never wavers. As your servant David said, ‘Indeed, he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.” We know that morning and night are as one to you, Lord, and we ask you to ride with these brave men . . . “
It was her fault. All she had to do to protect the brave men for whom Piper and the ladies prayed was to hand over the deeds to the gold mines. She didn’t want them, not if having them meant that good, brave men might die. Her father had told her to keep them, but her father was dead. She did not want to lose Benjamin. The prospect of loving him was as daunting as the fear of losing him, and she could not think clearly.
She stood up. “I’m –I must go,” she said, as the startled gazes of the ladies were fixed upon her. “I---I must go—“
“Mary-Lee,” Piper tried to get up but her bulk and her position impeded her.
“No, it’s—please, don’t stop praying, they need the prayers. I—there is something that I must do.” Mary-Lee hurried from the house.
Bette was tethered outside, placidly eating grass.
“Bette,” Mary-Lee said to the horse as she pulled herself into the saddle. “I know that you’re not used to riding like the wind is chasing you, but we’re in a hurry, and we have to catch up to the men.” She dug her knees into the horse and, to her surprise, the horse obediently began to gallop.
Mary-Lee’s braid flew behind her as she pushed Bette to go faster. The river, that was where Benjamin had said the camp was. All she needed to do to catch up to the men was follow the river. Bette obliged her with swift riding, and Mary-Lee, now that she had something active to do, felt her spirits lift. Her blue hat was on her head, and in that hat were the sought-after deeds. She would hand them over, and no one need be any the wiser. Let the Townsends take the gold mines, what did it matter? Her husband and Piper’s husband and the husbands of the other ladies would still be alive. That was what mattered. Gold mines meant nothing when there were husbands who were risking their lives for her sake.
She was riding as fast as Bette could gallop when, suddenly, she heard the sound of hooves gaining on her at a rate too swift for her to outrun. Then, without warning, she was encircled by the men on horseback. With a jolt of fear, she recognized one of the men; he had been part of her uncle’s gang in Abilene.
“Well, well, well,” said another of the men, apparently the leader, as his horse trotted up to Mary-Lee, trapped inside the circle of horses. “Look what we have here. If it isn’t prett
y little Mary-Lee Jameson. Now, a pretty girl like you should surely know better than to be out riding on your own. That’s a good way for a woman to come to harm. That deputy marshal husband of yours ought to take better care of you.” He reached out a rough, calloused hand and took the end of her braid between his fingertips. “Won’t Mr. Townsend be glad to see you?”
“And,” said the man Mary-Lee recognized, “won’t Mr. Jameson be relieved to know that we’ve brought his niece back to him. He’s been worried about you, Miss Mary-Lee,” the man said, his face contorted in a grotesque expression of mock concern. “What kind of girl is it who runs away from the uncle who’s cared for her since she became an orphan, to marry some deputy marshal, without her uncle’s knowledge or consent? That’s just ingratitude.”
“Don’t deliver a pious sermon to me, you miscreant!” she called out, her voice clear and distinct in the morning air. “I know you for what you are, and I know what my uncle is as well, and you’ll not be taking me anywhere.”
“And how are you going to prevent us? A little thing like you, against all of us?” the other man, the one she didn’t recognize, asked as he urged his horse closer. His knee was brushing against her leg in what she knew was a deliberately insulting act.
His words were as insulting as his physical transgression. Without pausing to think, Mary-Lee’s booted toe thrust out and kicked his horse. The horse reared, sending the rider sprawling to the ground.
“You little hellcat,” he said as he rose to his feet. “I think I’ll teach you a lesson right now—'”
“Think again,” called out a familiar voice.
Mary-Lee turned in her saddle, as she heard horses riding closer. There was Benjamin, along with Carson and Jack, and the other men who had joined the posse. Quickly, before any of the men surrounding her could stop her, Mary-Lee urged Bette to move and the horse obeyed.
Now the gang, Townsend and Jameson men, were encircled within the ring of horses and men from town, trapped by the lawmen.
Benjamin gave his wife a rueful grin. “You sure do know how to get into a fix,” he said.
“You’re under arrest,” Jack Walker announced. “All of you.”
“What’s the charge,” jeered the leader.
“Attempted abduction of a female citizen of Knox Mills,” Jack said calmly, as he removed a pair of handcuffs from his belt. “You’re going to jail.”
Chapter 13
Jack Walker had been married long enough to know a losing argument when he heard it. He returned to the posse to give them directions while Mary-Lee made her case to her husband. The members of the gang were connected by a single rope; the rope formed a noose around their necks. They would be walking the distance back to Knox Mills; the members of the posse would lead the horses back. Abe Winslow, the mayor, was in charge of locking them in the cell, a task he intended to perform with a certain measure of satisfaction. His gaunt features were almost cheerful as he listened to Jack’s instructions.
“In our absence, Mayor, you’re the law,” Jack told him. “I don’t think that the Townsends will know right away what’s happened, but they’ll find out soon enough. Keep the posse deputized and armed. I don’t want old Abel Townsend rigging up a jail break.”
Mayor Winslow nodded. “We’ll keep the jail under guard,” he said, “and I’ll see about rounding up a few more men to deputize.” He motioned toward Mary-Lee, who was engaged in vigorous discussion with her husband. “Shouldn’t we bring Mrs. Graves back to town with us?”
Jack Walker nodded solemnly. “You absolutely should bring Mrs. Graves back to town with you,” he echoed. “If you can figure out a way to make her go along with you, I think Deputy Marshal Graves would be most appreciative.”
“That’s one of the reasons I remain a bachelor,” Abe Winslow said with a thin smile as he got on his horse.
“I’m coming with you,” Mary-Lee insisted stubbornly.
“You are not coming with us.”
“I can shoot. I can defend myself. I’m not afraid.”
“I know you can shoot. I know you can defend yourself,” Benjamin recited patiently. “And I know you’re not afraid. But those things don’t matter, Mary-Lee. This is business. We’re lawmen. We have work to do. It’s not the kind of work that a woman does. Look at what happened with you coming here. You could have been . . . harmed.”
“I took care of that brute!” she retorted. “I kicked and his horse threw him.”
“Yes, you did, but there were other men who would have taken care of you if we hadn’t surprised them. Mary-Lee, you’re just about the bravest woman I’ve ever known, and I know men who don’t have anywhere near your courage, but this isn’t a sporting event. We’re heading for a camp where desperadoes are hiding out. We aim to catch them. You will be in the way. There’s likely to be shooting. Some will get hurt, maybe killed. I don’t want you to be one of them, and I can’t do the job I’ve been hired to do if I’m worried about my wife’s safety!”
“I will not be in the way! Benjamin, I’m not like the other wives. I can’t sit home and pray and wait. It’s not my nature. What Piper and the other wives do is good, and it needs to be done, but it’s not what I do. You need to understand that. I married you . . . I admit, I married you because I wanted a way of taking vengeance against my uncle for killing my father. But now that I’m married to you, I want to be with you. Even if it’s dangerous.” Her blue eyes always dominated the dainty contours of her face, but—just now—they were even more expressive, entreating him to understand what she was saying.
“I’m going after the men, and I aim to find out what happened to your father,” he said. “I promise you. That’s as much a pledge to you as it is to this badge I wear.”
“I know. But I’m your wife, and this is my fight.”
“Hon, they broke the law. It’s my job to see that they pay for it.”
“It’s my fight,” she repeated. “If anything happens to you—“ she choked on her words. She could not leave him now. He might need her. She needed to be here at his side. That was the kind of wife she was going to be. “I couldn’t bear it,” she finished, forcing herself to keep her voice even. “I will go with you.”
From his height, Benjamin looked down at his wife. She wasn’t like other women. Well, who said she had to be? He didn’t want her to come, but he knew no way of stopping her—short of taking her back to town and ordering Piper to keep her in the house. If he did that, Mary-Lee would never forgive him.
“All right,” he sighed. “You can come with us.”
Her smile was all the reward he needed, but when she threw her arms around him, stood on the tips of her toes, and bent her head for his kiss, he was rewarded anew, even if Jack, Carson, and the rest of the posse wore amused smiles that heralded a heavy dose of teasing once this enterprise was finished.
“Why don’t you deputize her?” Carson called out. “We’ve still got a couple of badges free.”
The teasing was going to be a trial, Benjamin could tell. “Never mind,” he said to Carson with a forbidding glance. “She’s going to ride with us, and she’s going to stay out of sight, and she’s going to do as she’s told. Aren’t you?” he demanded.
But Mary-Lee had already left his side to mount Bette. If she heard his warning, she gave no sign of it. Realizing that this was a point where saying as little as possible was the wiser option, Benjamin strode forward to Sal and mounted his horse. He’d be a long time living this one down.
Jack and Benjamin rode at the head of the posse; Carson rode at the rear. Mary-Lee chose a spot near the end of the group where she would not be in the way or conspicuous, even though she realized that a young woman in a blue gingham dress and a straw hat with a broad blue sash was not exactly standard for a Texas posse. It wasn’t what a lady was supposed to be doing, joining up with a posse to catch criminals, but it was where she needed to be. She just hoped that the prayers that the ladies had offered to God were going to hold for her as well as for t
he men.
They rode at a swift pace, but Bette kept up. Behind her, Carson was amused at the way that long, blonde braid flew behind her like a kite string. She was certainly some kind of woman, he thought. He hoped to be married some day. Would his wife be like that, with a fire-eating way of doing things? Women were supposed to be ladylike and domestic. Mrs. Graves would never be taken for anything but a lady, even with her spirit and her bold way of doing things. She just wasn’t like other ladies.
Unaware that she was the subject of the young deputy marshal’s thoughts, Mary-Lee concentrated on keeping up with the pace of the other riders. She didn’t want to consider what would have to be done when they arrived at the camp. With her husband and the others present, it would be difficult to just hand the deeds over. The lawmen were intent on seeing this through, and they did not plan to give Lance Townsend what he wanted so that trouble could be avoided. Maybe she wasn’t as tough as she had thought herself to be, Mary-Lee realized.
Jack and Benjamin brought their horses to a stop, and the rest of the riders slowed to a halt.
“Tracks show that they’ve been this way,” Jack said. “We don’t want to lose the advantage of surprise. We’re going to walk the horses under cover of those trees, and when we come on the camp, we’ll hide in the grass by the river and see what we’re dealing with. Understood?”
The men nodded. Mary-Lee nodded too. Benjamin looked at her, but his expression revealed nothing. She wondered if he was angry with her. She didn’t want to anger him. But this was where she needed to be. She’d have to make him understand that somehow.
Bette was easy to lead and the others had control over their horses as they moved into the cover of the trees that were on the side of the river. Mary-Lee began to hear sounds that told her they were approaching the camp. If the gang wanted to be unseen and unheard, they weren’t doing much about it. There seemed to be no effort at concealment. Perhaps they felt that they were too far away from town to be in danger. The men who had accosted her earlier and who were now on their way to town as captives headed to jail must have been a scouting party; apparently, they were not expected back yet.