The Outlaw's Heart

by Amy Sandas

  It had been exhausting to exist on a knife edge of potential violence. It was difficult even now to shake that perpetual sense of trepidation.

  Gabriel stood and turned to face her before Eve had a chance to glance away or shield her thoughts. His expression immediately darkened. Black brows lowered heavily over his eyes, and the strong line of his jaw becoming even more prominent.

  Eve realized how stiff and unmoving she must appear. The muscles along her spine ached, and her fingers cramped from being clasped so tightly together. She glanced down, not wanting Gabriel to detect even a glimmer of the painful memories traveling through her mind.

  “The cabin will warm quickly.” His words were tense. “Do you want the bath in front of the fire?”

  “That would be nice. Thank you.”

  She stayed where she was, standing behind the sofa with the kitchen table just behind her, as he brought out a large copper tub from a corner of the room and set it on the rug in front of the fire. There was just enough room for it between the hearth and the sofa. Then he went outside and started bringing in buckets of water. First, he filled two large pots and set them on the stove where he lit a fire to heat the water. Then he went about filling the tub with more buckets, two at a time.

  He would be gone several minutes each time he stepped out of the cabin, and Eve wondered where he fetched the water from, but she didn’t ask. She felt so awkward standing there while he got her bath ready. Back home, she’d never thought twice about the work servants did. But this was so very different.

  Because no one could possibly mistake Gabriel for anything as domestic as a household servant. And because here, with just the two of them in this little cabin tucked into the woods, the act felt oddly personal. Intimate, even though he seemed to practically ignore her presence.

  As he crossed the room with yet another bucket of water, Eve realized she did not want to be ignored. Words rose to her lips before she thought to stop them. “This cabin is very comfortable for the fact that no one lives here.”

  He slid her a quick glance, but otherwise revealed no reaction to what was surely the unexpected start of conversation.

  “Luke’s sister and her family use it when they come to visit. But we also use it for people passing through and need a place to stay for a while.”

  “People who need to hide?” Eve asked quietly.

  He turned to face her. “It’s a safe place.”

  Eve heard the words but felt them more.

  A safe place.

  Amongst robbers and kidnappers.

  “I don’t think I belong here,” she replied softly. The words caused a hollow ache in her chest. The truth was that she wasn’t sure she belonged anywhere.

  The confession seemed to cause a shift in him. His expression remained unchanged, his eyes deepened with some emotion that reached out and swirled thick and heavy through Eve’s center. He gave a short nod and crossed the room toward the kitchen behind her.

  He made an obvious effort not to get too close as he moved around her in the small space. For some reason, that small thing—that nearly inconsequential consideration—made her feel grateful and frustrated at the same time.

  She understood her gratitude for his hypervigilance in making sure she did not feel threatened by him.

  It was the frustration that confused her. And worried her.

  Did she want him to come closer?

  Setting the buckets aside, he went to the stove and hefted one of the large pots of steaming water. The muscles of his forearms strained as he carried it to the tub and poured it in. Only pouring about half of the second pot, he tested the water and set the half-full pot beside the tub.

  “Once it cools, you can use it to rinse your hair,” he said.

  The cabin was dimly lit under the shadow of the pines. The light from the fire flickered inconsistently over the room, and the two of them stood staring at each other in the quiet space.

  Eve was suddenly struck by the warmth of the room.

  No. Not the room. The warmth came from within, like a rolling flame expanding from her center.

  In the next moments, she was expected to strip down and sit in the water, completely vulnerable, while he stood just outside. Her current circumstances would have been incomprehensible to her a week ago.

  But now, despite the strange tension that always seemed to settle between them, she realized that she wasn’t frightened by the stark vulnerability of her situation. How was it possible that she could feel almost exhilarated by it?

  “Are you all right?” he asked in a rough voice that sent a tingle of awareness down Eve’s arms.

  “Yes,” she replied softly, wondering why she felt so tightly drawn inside, as though her body was bracing for something.

  He nodded and crossed the cabin to dig something out of a small chest of drawers in the corner. Returning to the tub, he set a folded towel on the floor and a cake of soap on top of that. He seemed to know his way around the place quite well.

  Gabriel crossed to the door. “You should get started before the water cools. The key is in the lock. I’ll be outside.”

  Then he stepped outside, making sure to secure the door behind him.

  Releasing a heavy breath, she approached the closed door and turned the key in the lock before removing it and placing it on the kitchen table.

  A gentle waft of steam rose from the tub as she approached. With another quick glance around, she started to release the buttons of her borrowed dress. Setting everything carefully on the armchair as she undressed, she allowed the quiet comfort of the little cabin to surround her.

  The locked door helped, but it was more Gabriel’s presence that made her feel safe enough to strip down. She knew he wouldn’t disturb her and would prevent anyone else who might think to do so.

  She washed quickly before the water fully cooled, using the now-warm water from the pot to rinse her twice-washed hair. After dressing again, she sat in front of the fireplace, working her fingers through her hair to free the tangles and encourage it to dry faster.

  Though she was almost curious enough to explore the rooms beyond, she stayed where she was. Looking around, she noted that the cabin really was quite a lovely home. A vase of long-dried-out flowers sat on a windowsill. Some heavy snow boots were propped beside the front door, and a basket filled with toys sat in a corner of the room.

  Eve stood and wandered to the basket, intrigued by the idea of a child living in this valley alongside a bunch of outlaws, but Gabriel had mentioned that Luke’s sister had a family. In this case, that appeared to include children.

  Lowering to her knees, she picked up a rag doll and noted its painted smile and bright-blue eyes, partially worn away, and its faded dress with a frayed hem. The doll had obviously been the object of many hours of loving play. Setting it back in the basket, she caught sight of a bright-red ball. It looked practically new and strangely familiar, though she had no idea where she might have come across such an object.

  None of her friends had children yet. And her brother—

  Of course. She knew exactly where she’d last seen a ball like this.

  Eve had never been very close to Warren, who was twelve years older than her. He had left Boston to study medicine in Philadelphia when Eve had still been a child. But he’d fallen in love with the western territories during a summer he’d spent with their uncle before starting medical school. About four years ago, he moved from Philadelphia to a small town in the Wyoming Territory to take over a medical practice.

  He was now married with a daughter and son. Eve recalled the last Christmas package she and her mother had prepared for Warren’s family. It had included a ball just like this one.

  It was an odd coincidence, and it had her wondering how far Warren lived from where she was now. She had known that her train ride would take her through the southern part of Wyoming bu
t felt confident it was far enough from Chester Springs that she had no fear of encountering her brother along the journey.

  Gabriel had taken her some distance from the railway. She had no idea where she was now, what direction they’d traveled into the mountains, or if she was even still in Wyoming.

  Just being reminded of Warren’s possible proximity made her anxious, but she reminded herself that she was deep in the mountains with a group of men who knew how to keep hidden. There was no reason to think she’d cross paths with her brother.

  Twenty-Two

  Gabriel heard the cabin door open behind him, then quiet footsteps on the wooden porch as Eve stepped outside. He remained where he was—leaning against a post, looking out through the tall pines toward the valley. He needed a moment. A moment to steel himself against the way his body and spirit reacted to her presence.

  It didn’t help.

  As soon as he turned toward her, the sight of her sent a sharp spear of heat down through his center. She had dressed again in the blue dress that was a near-perfect match to her eyes. Her hair was parted in the center and fell free down her back. The pale tresses were damp from her bath, but still created a golden veil around her face and shoulders.

  He liked her hair that way.

  She appeared more relaxed after her bath, though her gaze was still shrouded. Soft. Beautiful.

  The muscles that bound his ribs contracted, stealing his breath. Something inside him ached—deep inside, where words were replaced by instinct.

  He couldn’t allow such feelings to take root.

  But they dug deeper with every encounter.

  As he looked into her eyes and saw evidence of her secrets carefully secured in the depths, Gabriel felt an intense urge to draw her close, into the circle of his arms where he could be the walls that kept her safe.

  She made a small gesture toward the interior of the cabin. “The bath will need to be emptied.” Her voice was hesitant and uncertain.

  She had likely never concerned herself with such things before. On the night of her capture, her clothing had denoted her status as a person of wealth and privilege. And in the days since, her manner and poise had supported that assumption.

  He needed the reminder of how far apart their worlds were.

  “I’ll do it later.”

  Her soft gaze found his. “Thank you.” Her words seemed to speak to more than the bath, but Gabriel had no idea what else she had to thank him for.

  “We should head back.”

  Gabriel stepped to the side, nodding for her to precede him down the steps. Her step was regal as she passed by him, her gaze level, but just as she was even with him, her lips parted as she drew a swift breath.

  He wanted to believe her reaction to his nearness was not due to fear, but he suspected that was the case. From what he had seen, she had reason to be wary. He just wished she knew there was no cause to fear him.

  When they reached the valley and stepped free of the shadows cast by the tall pines, she tipped her face up toward the sun. A soft sigh slid from her lips. The sound of it made his stomach clench.

  “Gabriel?” She spoke his name softly before turning to glance at him over her shoulder. “Could we walk for a bit before going back?”

  He furrowed his brow in a questioning look.

  “It’s a lovely day,” she added as she stopped and turned to face him more fully.

  A gentle wind teased wisps of her hair, lifting them in a dance of golden light. Silken strands swept across her cheek and her lips until she lifted her hand to tuck them behind her ear.

  There was no reason to return right away. A walk seemed like a small indulgence.

  “For a little while,” he finally replied.

  Her eyes brightened. The change was small, but it had an effect like a lightning bolt striking deep in his core.

  He altered direction and started walking. She fell into step beside him.

  The birds announced their presence as they passed, squirrels chattered from nearby trees, and the grass whispered with every step, but no words were spoken.

  Gabriel was accustomed to a lack of conversation, even when in the company of others.

  Such had not been the case when he was young. As many young boys do, he had enjoyed spending his days shouting and running with his friends.

  After he was taken in by the missionaries, he learned quickly that a child did not speak unless being directly questioned by an adult. There was little opportunity for laughter and no time for song.

  He’d hated it, but after many failed attempts at escape that ended in beatings and food deprivation, he came to accept it. And then hated himself for his acceptance and vowed he would free himself at the first opportunity. Along the way, he had learned to appreciate the benefits of keeping his thoughts to himself.

  The woman walking beside understood what it was to keep silent.

  Perhaps that was why the sound of her voice held so much weight when she spoke. “May I ask you something?”

  He kept his gaze forward. “You may.”

  “How did you become an outlaw?”

  Gabriel wasn’t sure how to answer that. Sometimes, he didn’t even think of himself as an outlaw. Of course, he was aware that his actions under Luke’s direction often required that he break a law or two, but the West was a lawless place. Even those upholding the law often saw fit to break it toward their own ends.

  And from the day he’d joined up with Luke, he’d seen that although the other man’s methods required a certain disregard for the laws of the land, his motivation was based on a kind of honor Gabriel respected.

  “Several years ago, the residents of a small town to the south took exception to me passing through. Luke stepped in when the townsfolk thought it’d be easier to shoot me than run me out of town.” She gasped, and the quiet sound told him as much as anything how little she was aware of the world he lived in. “We traveled together for a couple of days. I was able to repay the debt when a couple of cowboys discovered Luke cheated them out of their monthly pay in a poker game.”

  He wasn’t sure if his reply satisfied her curiosity, but it was the only one he had.

  He and Luke had saved each other’s hides more than once since then. In those days, Luke had been young, reckless, impassioned, and angry. He and Honey had left their childhood home in search of a new beginning. Luke’s responsibility to his sister and her daughter might have been the only thing he took seriously. Gabriel didn’t know exactly how Luke started on the path of an outlaw, but he had a way of inspiring confidence and loyalty despite his youth.

  “And you’ve stayed with him since?”

  Gabriel nodded.

  She said nothing more for a little while, and Gabriel could practically feel her trying to understand his choice to live as an outlaw.

  “Sometimes breaking the law is the right thing to do.” As further explanation, the remark was vague. But it was all he could say without betraying the gang and those they’ve helped.

  “How was Sarah Cummings’s abduction and ransom the right thing to do?”

  Gabriel frowned. She would ask about that—one of the few jobs that was connected to a personal vendetta. He slid a glance toward her without turning his head. She walked beside him, her posture as sure and proud as always, her chin level, and her gaze thoughtful as she looked out over the valley spread before them.

  “You’d have to ask Luke about that.”

  “Would she have been hurt?”

  “No.” That, at least, he could say with conviction. “Women and children are never harmed by our hands. Only men who deserve it.”

  “And who decides if they deserve it?” she asked, her voice lowering.

  “Those they’ve committed crimes against.”

  She gave a barely perceptible nod, apparently satisfied with his answer. As he watched he
r from the corner of his eye, she took a deep breath, filling her lungs with mountain air as she closed her eyes and tipped her face toward the sun. The beginnings of a smile teased at the corner of her mouth but couldn’t quite come into fruition.

  Gabriel ached to touch his tongue to the crease of her lips. He wondered what her reluctant smile would taste like. Sunshine and honey, he imagined. Sweet and warm.

  Opening her eyes, she took another breath, this one more fortifying, and the almost-smile slipped away.

  “Luke said I could stay here in the valley for a while,” she said.

  Her soft gaze slid to meet his. The depth of her vulnerability was difficult to witness. He wondered how she managed to carry it inside her. “You told him…what you saw?” she asked. The words were raw and exposed, rising barely above a whisper.

  The guilt of feeling as though he’d betrayed her was like a rock in his chest. “It’s important for him to know the circumstances.”

  She nodded and averted her gaze, staring off across the valley. There was vulnerability in her eyes, but also so much pride. In her bearing, in her silence, in her determination and courage. But there was also something else. Something Gabriel recognized and could not stand for.

  He stopped walking and she stopped as well, turning to face him with a question in her eyes. He lowered his chin and met her gaze with steady insistence. “There is no shame in what you’ve endured.”

  Her lips parted on his words, and something flickered in her gaze before it was closed off. “I know that now. But knowing and feeling are two different things.”

  Gabriel’s stomach tightened at the truth in her words. Being taken away from his tribe as a boy was not his choice or his fault, but it didn’t stop him from feeling guilt over his absence. Just as when he’d returned to his people as a young man and realized he couldn’t stay, it hadn’t prevented the sense of loss that followed that decision.