The Outlaw's Mail Order Bride

by Linda Broday

  “I want to play with the goats and Bullet,” Violet complained.

  “I’d like you to come with me.” Tally pulled the girl close for a hug, mindful that she was ruining all their lives. Violet seemed to feel safe here, only she wasn’t—and never could be again. Damn Slade Tarver! Why couldn’t he let them be?

  “It’ll be nice feeling the breeze blowing through our hair as we ride,” she told Violet.

  “Can Bullet come?”

  “No, honey. He needs to stay here.”

  One last glance at the bed where Clay had placed a purple flower on her pillow brought tears stinging the back of her eyes. She’d do anything to stay—except risk being caught and returned to Creedmore. She never should’ve agreed to marry. Not just Clay, but anyone. She’d never rid herself of the stains on her soul, the blood on her hands, or the men chasing her.

  She touched her cheek and the tattoo that had been put there as a mark of ownership. No one would ever own her. The weight of the gun hanging from her hip was reassuring.

  The blacksmith, Skeet Malloy, was waiting outside. He tipped his hat. “Mornin’, ma’am. It’s a mighty beautiful morning for a ride. Clay asked me to bring Sugar over. She’s a good horse and not one to leave you stranded.” He handed her the reins of a white mare.

  “Thank you, Mr. Malloy. I’m sure she’ll do real fine.” Tally patted Sugar’s neck.

  The balding, jovial man wiped away the sweat that rolled down one side of his face. She liked his gentle eyes and slow way of talking. Some might say he chewed his words before letting them escape. She couldn’t imagine him ever getting mad enough to kill anyone, but apparently he had. Or done something equally bad to be on the run.

  Violet threw her arm around Bullet and buried her face in his fur. Her crying ripped Tally’s heart out. How could she separate Violet from the dog she already loved so much?

  “Don’t ride too far now,” Malloy warned. “That riffraff over at Mobeetie are a bad bunch. If you have trouble, fire your pistol in the air and we’ll come running.”

  “A good plan.” Tally smiled, determined not to lie again. She’d told far too many already.

  “What’s wrong with the little one?” Skeet asked.

  Tally forced a smile. “She wants Bullet to come with us. You know how children are.”

  “Not exactly, ma’am. It would be a good idea to take him.”

  Fine. She saw no way around it. She might as well steal Clay’s dog and make it complete.

  “Guess you’re right.” She got on Sugar, and Skeet Malloy handed Violet up in front of her.

  The jovial blacksmith waved as they rode off with Bullet happily trotting beside them. Tally didn’t let herself look back at the place that harbored this ragged group of outlaws. Like her, each man was simply trying to survive as best he could. In the end, though, they were nothing but shadows living on the fringe of society. Their deep yearning to live respectable lives and have families brought tightness to her chest. She prayed they wouldn’t give up in the face of the slim odds and her betrayal.

  “Where are we going?” Violet clutched her rag doll tightly.

  “Back to Deliverance, honey.”

  Riding in front of Tally, Violet sniffled. “No! I don’t want to leave Bullet and the baby goats. Mr. Clay will protect us. He did yesterday. We need his guns.”

  “Believe me, I don’t want to go either.”

  “Then why?” Violet demanded.

  “Those men will be back, and when they come, maybe Mr. Clay won’t be near. Deliverance is the only safe place.” Tally took a settling breath. In over two years, no one had found them there. She shouldn’t have left, shouldn’t have allowed the burning need for a proper life influence her thinking.

  She had to think with her head, not her heart.

  “Please stop.” Tears bubbled in Violet’s sightless eyes. “Mr. Clay needs us.”

  Surprise jarred Tally. “Why are you concerned about his welfare? I thought you were afraid of him.”

  “I am a little. But I heard tears in his voice. He’s real sad. I think he might be nice. You said so.”

  It was also the tears in Clay’s voice when they were alone that had shaken Tally, but he was strong. She chewed her lip. For all Brady’s strength, too, her brother had died.

  Everything was getting jumbled in her head, and it was hard to sort it out. She would when she reached safety.

  “You’ll have to trust me to know what’s best.” Tally gently rubbed the girl’s small shoulders, wishing things hadn’t gotten so complicated.

  Maybe they were better off living with no hope at all than in sight of a little. Glimpsing a life of possibilities made going back to nothing twenty times emptier. The farther she got from Devil’s Crossing, the more life seemed to ebb from her. She swallowed a rising sob.

  All she had to do was turn back. Everything she yearned for waited for her to claim it.

  Each moment alone with her husband flashed before her. His kindness. The purple flower on her pillow. His respect of her space and recognizing the fact that she needed time. His body next to hers when they danced. How he’d thrown Tarver into the dirt and showed the piece of dung how small and insignificant he was when confronted with true power in the right hands.

  Tally snorted. Some warrior angel. She’d tucked tail and run.

  Turn around and go back, a voice said. Clay can protect you. Tarver has no chance against someone with strength and honor like him. You made promises that were supposed to have meant something.

  Violet rode silent and still, facing the stark landscape in front of them. Bullet followed loyally at their side.

  She realized then that she couldn’t do it—she couldn’t take everything from Clay. She had to send the dog back. Tally stopped the mare and dismounted. “Go back, Bullet. You can’t come.”

  The dog stared at her, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. He started toward her. Tally picked up a stick and shook it at him. “No. Go home!”

  “No, Mama. No!” Violet cried. “Please let him come.”

  Confusion crossed Bullet’s dark eyes. He cocked his head to the side and whined.

  “Get out of here!” Tally hollered, a tear trickling down her face.

  Bullet lay down and stretched his forelegs out in front of him and began to crawl. Between his barking and Violet’s sobs, she could barely think.

  Finally, she got back on the mare. Holding Violet securely, she took off at a gallop, and though the dog tried his best to keep up, they soon left him behind.

  Feeling like she’d killed the faithful companion, Tally kept a sharp eye out for other riders, her gun within reach. An hour down the little-used trail Luke had taken when they came, she stopped at a stream rising from some rocks where she could water the horse. Off to the side was a deep ravine.

  Always conscious of their safety, she dismounted, pulled her gun, and strode to the drop-off. It plunged a good twenty feet, and a tangle of brush grew down into the gully. She scanned every inch but saw no one lurking and slid the gun back into her holster.

  Violet was still sobbing, somewhere the dog hated her, and the pretty little horse was giving her the evil eye.

  She’d been stupid to think running was best. She’d get some water and think.

  The decision made, she returned to Violet, still waiting on the white mare. “It’s a hot day. Would you like a drink of water, honey?” She swung the girl from the saddle.

  “No.” Violet dragged her arm across her nose.

  “All right.” Tally led her to some big rocks all jumbled on top of each other as though toys, carelessly tossed. “You can rest here.”

  Violet sat with a long face. Tally led the horse to the water and lay down beside the stream to scoop some into her own mouth. A bird squawked at her from a clump of broomweed, and overhead, the blue sky seemed to st
retch forever. She removed the bandana from around her neck and wet it to wash her face. The day was a scorcher and it wasn’t even noon.

  She rose and let her gaze sweep the miles of open country. Violet had never had any pets in Deliverance because noisy animals would attract hunters. Now, she’d given the lonely child what she most wanted—a dog and goats to play with—only to snatch them away. She was a failure at motherhood.

  Apparently at marriage as well.

  But she was finished jerking back and forth, wanting to run and yet longing to return. She made her decision—she would go back, and she’d fight hard to be the warrior angel Clay thought she was.

  “Okay, honey, let’s go home.” Her excited announcement was met with silence. Tally turned, alarm crawling up her spine.

  Violet was gone.

  “Where are you, Violet? This isn’t funny. It’s too dangerous away from here, sweet girl.” Tally’s heart pounded and her breath came in panicked gasps. She climbed the rocks, getting a long scrape on her arm, desperate to see better. But there was no sign of a little, lost darling.

  What had happened to her? Tally hadn’t heard other riders or the crunch of footsteps. She glanced at the way they’d come. Had Violet decided to try to walk back? Very possible, the state the girl had been in. Back down on the ground, she walked along the ravine, checking for anything to indicate Violet had tumbled down. She saw nothing—no loose dirt, no torn fabric, no doll. Finally, she returned to the area where Violet had sat, but the jumble of footprints made it difficult to tell much of anything. Finally, she climbed onto the mare and rode toward large clumps of juniper, mesquite, and scrub oak in hopes Violet might’ve wandered into them.

  “Violet!” Tally rode through the brush and between scrawny trees that barely offered any shade. She called the girl’s name over and over with no response. Fear knotted in her stomach. Poisonous snakes, tarantulas, scorpions, and sharp-toothed animals thrived in this environment. Slade Tarver could’ve taken her. Anything could’ve happened.

  Her breath caught in the tightness of her throat. Even angry and upset, Violet would answer—if she could.

  A dark silence spread inside and around, choking her.

  Clay’s words sounded in her head. Out here, it’s easy to die with no one the wiser.

  Tally had to face one very hard, very terrifying fact—Violet might not answer because she was dead.

  Ten

  Indecision twisted inside Tally. Should she stay, go back, or keep moving forward?

  Violet wouldn’t know which direction to strike out for Devil’s Crossing—if that was where she’d headed. But she could’ve gone anywhere. To check all directions would take too much time.

  Waiting for some sign to tell her which way to go, she swung toward the thunder of pounding hooves. One rider coming fast. Tally drew her Colt and took cover behind a mesquite.

  She inhaled some panicked breaths and waited. She recognized Clay’s brown-and-white paint, Sundown, first. Then she recognized him by the set of his broad shoulders. Weak with relief, she stepped from her hiding place.

  Clay reined up. Grim lines cut into his face, accentuating the scar. His dark eyes revealed confusion and hurt. The sharp edge in his voice cut through her like a knife. “This isn’t the short ride you described. Thank God Malloy watched the direction you came and hurried to find me. Mind telling me why you left?”

  “I will, but right now I have to find Violet.” Now that help had arrived, she couldn’t stop her mouth from quivering.

  “What do you mean?” Clay dismounted and reached for her, searching her face. His arms were the one place she wanted to be. “Where is she? Did someone take her?”

  “I don’t know.” She straightened her spine and told him everything. “I didn’t hear any horses or footsteps or anything.” She rested her forehead against Clay’s shoulder. “Violet was really upset at leaving Bullet and the goats. I’ve never seen her that way. Honestly, I really think she struck out on her own, walking back. Only—”

  “Only she can’t see which direction to go,” he finished for her. “It’s hard telling where she is.”

  “And she doesn’t know the dangers of this land. She could’ve been snakebit or anything. What do we do? How will we find her?”

  Clay shaded his eyes and glanced up at the sun, possibly to check the location in the sky. “How long has it been?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe twenty minutes.”

  “Afoot, she couldn’t have gone far. That’s a good thing. I can cover more ground, since I know the terrain.” He folded his arms around her. “I’m glad you’re safe. You can’t imagine my worry. We’re going to find her. I won’t stop looking until we do.” He paused and the anger was back. “But after that—you promised to give me until spring.”

  Tally cringed at the hard tone of his voice. She’d deeply hurt him and eroded his trust. She’d walked out on him just like those other women in his past. Did the same damn thing.

  “I deserve everything you’re itching to say.” She stepped back and dropped her shield back into place. “But Violet first. Tell me what you want me to do.”

  Clay rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll look around the creek, see if I can spot her footprints. Since I didn’t see her coming, we have to assume she probably went either north or east, toward Deliverance.”

  “South of the creek is a deep ravine. What if she stepped off the edge and tumbled down? I looked from up here but didn’t go down there.” She glanced up. “Clay, what have I done?”

  His stricken eyes shot pain through her. “Don’t borrow trouble. Mount up.”

  They returned to the creek, and Clay searched every inch of ground, looking for any clues. Tally stood silent, listening to the sound of the creek, the wind, the birds, the rustle of the brush. But there were no cries from a lost little girl.

  Clay straightened and moved slowly around the boulders, reading the prints. Tally held the reins of both horses and followed. Finally, he spoke. “She went this way.”

  Relief spread through her. At least they had a starting place. Only, ahead of them lay a series of gullies and drop-offs with a single narrow trail winding through them. They had to find her before she got hurt.

  Tally froze with that thought. Danger lay everywhere.

  She hurried to catch up to Clay. His face was set, his eyes glued to the ground. He seemed locked deep in his own thoughts and she doubted he would even hear her speak, so she stayed silent and searched both sides of the trail for clues, listening to every sound.

  “Violet!” Clay hollered. “Violet, I’m here. Come out, baby girl. Let’s go home.”

  There was no answer. They went a little farther and Tally spied her rag doll next to a bush. “There, Clay.”

  He picked the doll up and dusted it off. His haunted, desperate eyes darkened, but he said nothing, just stuffed the doll in his saddlebag.

  They stopped to call her name again and again.

  “I can make out faint footprints that must belong to her. I’ll find her soon.” But Clay directed his hopeful, yet tight, words into the distance, not at her.

  Tally swallowed bitter regret. She deserved his anger. Her betrayal had cost her a friend, a husband. “I hope you’re right.” She yearned to beg his forgiveness but now was not the time. He wasn’t of a mind to do anything except find the little girl who needed him.

  Suddenly, Clay came to a dead stop and raised his head.

  “What do you hear?” she asked.

  “A faint cry.” He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Violet! Where are you?”

  “Here,” came Violet’s weak reply. “I’m here.”

  Clay plunged down the right side of the trail and into a thicket. Tally followed, ignoring the sting of the thorns pricking her arms and penetrating her dress to the soft flesh beneath. Nothing mattered except Violet’s safety.

/>   “Help me!” The girl sounded near.

  They rounded a small incline and there sat Violet, holding her leg, tears leaving trails through the dirt on her face.

  Clay rushed forward and scooped her up. “I’ve got you, baby girl. You’re safe.”

  “I waited and waited for you. Where is Mama?” Violet asked.

  “I’m here, honey.” Tally kissed her cheek. “I was so worried.”

  Violet gave a shuddering sigh. “I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want to leave my dog.”

  Tally met Clay’s angry stare. “You don’t have to, honey,” she said. “We’re going home.”

  “I’m glad. I fell and rolled a long way. My leg hurts.”

  “I’m sorry.” Tally wiped away Violet’s tears. “We’ll fix you up as good as new.”

  “You bet, baby girl.” Clay’s voice was hoarse. He carried Violet up the incline, held her while Tally mounted up, then handed her over.

  Clay’s cold features told Tally all she needed. Now for their talk and facing his feelings of betrayal.

  She prayed he’d understand why she’d left. But if he didn’t?

  She refused to think about that.

  * * *

  Winding their way back home, Clay glanced over at Violet, asleep in Tally’s arms, lulled by the rocking of the mare. His heart melted at the teardrops lingering on the child’s lashes. They’d almost lost her. The experience seemed to have changed the girl and lessened her fear of him, letting him carry her up the steep incline, not shrinking from his touch. She’d wanted to come home—to him.

  He glanced at Tally’s stone face. She hadn’t spoken since finding Violet. The beautiful eyes of the woman he’d married were somber, sad, and lonely.

  “Why did you run?” The question squeezed through his stiff lips. “Why did you break your promise to wait until spring? I thought your word meant something.”

  Her winter-blue eyes lifted. “I panicked. All I could think was that Slade Tarver had found me. In Deliverance Canyon, no one had ever found me. I felt exposed here.”