The Outlaw's Mail Order Bride

by Linda Broday

  Just then, the woman’s eyes locked with Tally’s through the window. The bold creature gave her a smirk that seemed to say Clay was all hers.

  Anger rushed over Tally like muddy floodwaters of the Brazos. Of all the nerve! Her gaze shifted to the elderly couple walking behind Clay. Though she appeared far too young, maybe this dark-haired husband-stealer was their daughter?

  Hmph! Tally leaned forward until her nose was almost pressed against the windowpane. Realizing she must look like an urchin staring at food inside a café, she backed up. She couldn’t let anyone see the chaos twisting and turning inside her.

  Still, she hadn’t exactly given Clay much incentive for staying faithful. Clay pulled free from the woman, shifted the walking stick, and took Violet’s hand. Satisfaction swept through Tally that the woman had to relinquish her hold on him.

  Tally plunked the biscuits on the table and scurried back to the kitchen before they came inside. She glanced in Clay’s shaving mirror, the one still hanging on the wall that he’d forgotten to take when he’d moved out.

  Her tattooed cheek! She’d never given any thought of what to say to new people. She swung around in a panic, looking for anything that might help conceal it but saw nothing. Finally, she raised her chin in defiance. She’d done nothing wrong. Still, fear gripped her that someone might turn her in for the five-hundred-dollar reward. What could she say? Nothing unless they asked. And if they did…heaven help her.

  She shifted her gaze away from the hideous mark. Light from the lamps revealed she should’ve taken more care with her appearance that morning. She hastily unpinned her hair and let the loose strands fall across her cheek. Hopefully, the tattoo wouldn’t be that noticeable.

  Clay carried Violet inside and spoke without glancing at her. “Tally, come and meet our first new residents.” He took the walking stick from the old man and propped it beside the door.

  With one last look in the mirror, she pasted on a smile and gave herself a stern warning to be polite. “How wonderful. And just in time for breakfast.” Thank goodness she’d made extra, just in case some of the men stopped in to eat.

  She offered her hand to the elderly gentleman. “I’m Tally Shannon…” She shifted her gaze to the pretty young woman before adding pointedly, “Colby.”

  “Tobias January, and this is my wife, Belle.” Although the old man had to be way past his prime, his eyes twinkled like stars. He had one of the snowiest and longest beards she’d ever seen, hanging almost to his waist.

  Tally kissed the old lady’s wrinkled cheek and welcomed her. She already felt drawn to Belle January, who reminded her of her grandmother long ago. Her face was timeworn, her eyes milky, but her knotty, misshapen fingers closed around Tally’s with a firm grip. A thousand memories hid behind those pale blue eyes. Already she seemed like a dear friend.

  “I’m so happy to meet you,” Tally said. “I look forward to getting acquainted.” Only then did she acknowledge the woman whose presence she likened to a hissing snake. There was no ignoring her. “You can call me Mrs. Colby. Are you related to Belle?”

  “Just a friend,” the newcomer said, giving her a thin smile that failed to hide her resentment. “I’m Rebel—Rebel Avery. Clay and I are”—she beamed up at him—“dear friends.”

  Fury climbed up Tally’s neck at the woman’s implication that there was much more to their relationship. Clay refused to look at Tally, and that said far too much.

  “I’m sure you’ll have a lot to talk about,” Tally managed past her clenched teeth.

  “I met Rebel when she worked at the Wildcat Saloon.” Clay helped Violet into a chair at the table and pulled out one for Rebel. “She was always ready when I was looking for a dance partner. Or a glass of whiskey.”

  I’ll just bet.

  Rebel appeared ready for most anything, especially when it came to Clay. She could barely take her eyes off him now and stared as if she was picturing him without clothes.

  Thankfully, Tally remembered her manners before she buried her hands in Rebel’s hair and yanked it out. “Breakfast is ready. If Clay will bring in some extra chairs from the saloon, we’ll eat.”

  “I’ll help,” Rebel was quick to volunteer. Of course.

  The two went outside and came back carrying three more chairs. Rebel placed hers next to Clay’s, so close she was near in his lap. He finally glanced across the table at Tally and helplessly shrugged his shoulders.

  She quirked an eyebrow at him and stabbed a fork into the sausage patty so hard it dented the tin plate, the sound loud in the room, then smiled sweetly at Clay. “Eggs, dear?”

  “Clay always eats three eggs every morning,” Rebel answered for him. “He has a healthy appetite.” The woman glanced at the plate of eggs. “Those yolks are a little too runny.”

  Steam came from the top of Tally’s head. For two cents, the woman would wear the eggs.

  “They’re fine,” Clay insisted, his frustrated gaze locking with Tally’s. “Just the way I like them now.”

  Rebel snorted but kept silent, her hand covering his.

  “In most cultures, a man being married means he’s taken,” Tally said silkily. She gave the woman a cold smile. “In less civilized places, when a woman latches on to someone else’s husband, the wife just whacks off the woman’s hand and is done with it. But it’s entirely up to you, Miss Avery. Personally, I prefer things simple and fast.”

  Clay choked on his biscuit and Rebel quickly put her hand in her own lap.

  “What did she say, dear?” Tobias asked his wife.

  “Tally said she’s going to whack off Rebel’s hand if she doesn’t watch what she’s touching.” Belle glanced at Tally and winked.

  “Violet, honey, you’re not eating much. Are you sick?” Tally felt the child’s forehead.

  “No, Mama.” Violet pulled Tally down close and whispered in her ear, “I’m scared. Can I sit in your lap?”

  Without a word, Tally transferred her. Soon, the remainder of the meal was taken up with the “Remember When” game Rebel played with Clay.

  Tally turned her back on them and focused her attention on the Januarys. “I’m curious. How did you hear that we’re building a town here?”

  “An old outlaw I used to know came through Cimarron and told us.” Tobias took a drink of coffee. “I gathered up my tools—I’m a carpenter and coffin maker by trade—and my Belle packed the wagon. Here we are. There’s nothing much I can’t build.”

  “That’s very true. My Tobias is also a gunsmith on the side.” Belle wiped a crumb from Tobias’s beard with a napkin. “We know the problems with building a town. Tobias and I started two others in years past, only to see them fail. We’re bound and determined to help you make this one work. And…our youngest son took to the outlaw trail.” The old woman’s voice broke. “He died before he could set things straight.”

  Tally’s heart ached for the old couple. “I’m so sorry.”

  Tobias cleared his voice. “If we can help some of the men here, it will feel like we did something for our boy.”

  “Well, we’re mighty glad you came.” Tally put Violet’s milk glass in her hand. “It’s a monumental undertaking.”

  “My hands aren’t much to look at, but they still fit plows and hoes, and I can sew and cook.” Belle reached for a piece of sausage. “There’s not much I can’t do.”

  Tobias laid his fork down. “Towns are the only way to tame this land. They attract good, solid people with skills, and that runs out the bad seeds like Montana Black. Your man told me how the outlaw burned down what they’d built. Just a shame.”

  Her man? Tally wasn’t too sure of that. She glanced at Clay, who appeared to have lost sight of the fact that other people sat at the table. Right at the moment, she wasn’t at all sure what he was to her.

  “Maybe we’ll get a sheriff soon.” Belle turned to speak to Violet. �
��You have such lovely hair, child. Tobias and I have three granddaughters and five grandsons. Course, they’re all grown now. When they were small, they used to follow us around like little puppy dogs. They could ask more questions than a squirrel has nuts. How old are you, sweetheart?”

  “Eight,” Violet answered. “Did you have any little girls like me?”

  “Yes, I sure did. You have a pretty name, you know. I’ve always adored purple violets. I named my two girls after stones—Pearl and Jade.” Belle chuckled. “They were such tomboys. Always trailing after their six strapping brothers.”

  “My goodness, you had a brood.” Tally couldn’t imagine having that many children—or siblings. She and her brother, Brady, had been each other’s best friend. Older by two years, Brady had watched out for her. They were enough.

  “Violet, do you like magic?” Tobias took out a coin and rolled it between his fingers.

  The girl scrunched up her face in thought. “What is that?”

  “It’s making things disappear,” Tobias explained. “I can make this coin vanish.”

  Tally smiled and said low, “Violet can’t see, Tobias. Your magic won’t work on her.”

  “I’m sorry.” The man’s face reddened. “I didn’t know.”

  Violet leaned toward the sound of his voice and whispered, “Can you make that woman disappear?”

  Tobias chuckled and whispered back, “I’ve been trying.”

  “We have to be nice, honey.” Tally wiped milk from Violet’s mouth.

  The girl sulked. “I don’t think she’s very nice.”

  No need to worry that Rebel overheard. She was too busy laughing and carrying on with Clay to pay attention to anything else. Tally narrowed her eyes. She was going to have a talk with Clay.

  Very soon.

  Belle patted her hand. “Don’t worry, dear. I know how to fix that. At least for a while.”

  The minute the meal was over, Clay stood. “Tobias, let’s go find you a spot to claim and meet the others.”

  The two men went outside. Belle caught Rebel’s arm before she reached the door. “Rebel, dear, we need help here. There are dishes to wash, floors to sweep, and whatnot. I’m sure Tally has a list. And we have to unpack the wagon when Tobias finds us a good place to camp.”

  “But—” Rebel sputtered. “I don’t do that kind of work.”

  Tally eyed the red satin dress that, if she could hazard a guess, was probably one of the woman’s more conventional ones. The neckline dipped far too low, but at least the dress hem met her ankles.

  This was going to be fun. She gave the women a much happier smile. “We don’t have the luxury here of picking and choosing chores. Belle, I was thinking of making a garden. I’m not sure what has time to grow this late in the planting season. I brought a few seeds with me.”

  “No worries about that,” Belle said. “I toted a lot of fast-growing kinds. Beans and peas only take sixty days or thereabouts to make, and beets are shorter than that. All we have to do is decide on a plot of ground. Later on, we can plant winter squash and turnips.” At the commotion outside, a smile curved Belle’s mouth. “I hear bleating. How many goats do you have?”

  “A whole, whole bunch,” Violet said. “They have little babies, too.”

  “I hate the smelly animals,” Rebel said, wrinkling her nose. “They’re good to eat though.”

  Panic crossed Violet’s face. “No!”

  “She won’t, Violet.” Or Tally would have a say and Rebel wouldn’t like that one bit.

  “There ain’t nothing sweeter than goat kids,” Belle said, kissing Violet’s cheek. “We’ll have to visit them.” She swung around to Tally. “Have you tried making cheese from the milk yet? You’ll find none any tastier.”

  “That’s what Clay said. We’ll have to make some.” Tally glanced at Rebel, whose expression now matched her name. The woman was seething, her arms crossed over her rounded bosom. The chore list was growing longer by the second, and Tally’s determination grew stronger along with it.

  If she could only get Clay alone, she’d get a few things straight, but by the time she finished the dishes, he was nowhere to be seen. Jack and Tobias said he was getting some sleep, so she had nothing left to do but focus on her chores and keep an eagle eye on Rebel. Tally wouldn’t put it past her to curl up with Clay when he caught some shut-eye.

  But what about tonight, when everyone went to sleep? Would Rebel go to him?

  And more importantly, would Clay turn her away? He was a lonely man.

  Tally found herself in a quagmire. There was no doubt in her mind that Rebel would gladly take advantage of Clay’s new living arrangement.

  The safety of Devil’s Crossing that had first brought Tally peace of mind might very well end her living here. If things began to look hopeless, she’d have no choice but to pack up and leave.

  Her stomach twisted. Clay would find a willing bed partner if he was looking for one.

  The more she learned of Rebel, the less she liked. The saloon girl was lazy and either trying to slip away from Tally and Belle, or standing at the door gazing out at the men while Tally and Belle did all the work.

  Once, Tally caught the woman marching purposefully toward the tent saloon, Harvey Drake, the short, bow-legged bartender, standing in the open flap. They talked and laughed for a bit, then Rebel returned.

  Tally paused in tilling the garden. “One thing you need to know about us and this town, Rebel.”

  The woman turned. Her face had reddened from the heat but resentment burned in her eyes. “What’s that, Tally?”

  “If you stay here, you work. Everyone has to pull their share of the load.” Tally wiped her forehead. “If you have no intention of helping, then it’s best you move on.”

  “If you think you can kick me out, you better not try. You’re not the one in charge here.”

  Hot fury climbed up Tally’s neck. She kept her voice low. “I’m the one you should worry about. You don’t know the things I’m capable of.”

  Rebel’s eyes widened in challenge. “Is that a threat?”

  “Take it however you see fit, but I’d watch the shadows.” Tally moved over to Violet, who had attached herself to Belle. The old woman’s gentle ways had drawn the child. Bullet lay in the turned earth, Violet’s guardian always.

  “Let’s stop and rest,” Tally suggested to Belle. “We need to cool off and get some water before we have a heat stroke.”

  “I agree.” Belle leaned heavily on Tally as they made their way to the shade of the windmill and the refreshing water in the tank. Violet followed, clutching Tally’s dress with one hand and holding to Bullet with the other. The dog was extremely patient with her, as though sensing Violet’s blindness.

  Rebel shot a longing glance toward the saloon and sighed before joining them.

  While they drank their fill, Tally stared at the shambles left of the town that so resembled the ugly mess inside her, and deep sadness washed over her. She sensed her marriage slowly slipping away and didn’t know how to stop it. Even if she begged Clay to move back in, he might refuse. The thought of his rejection stilled everything inside her.

  Should she let Clay go? Or fight like hell for the man she wanted?

  Tally clenched her jaw. She’d do whatever she must to save her life here. Clay Colby was hers and no two-bit husband-stealer was going to take him.

  Fourteen

  That afternoon, after Clay slept for a few hours in the new house he was building, he went to Violet and knelt down in front of her. “I think it’s time you see what I look like. All right?”

  “Okay. I’m not very scared of you now.”

  “Good.” He took her hands and placed them on his face. Please let Violet trust me.

  “I want you to see what I look like so you won’t be afraid of us spending time together. I’m going to teach yo
u how to get around so you won’t have to have someone hold your hand. Do you want that?”

  Wordlessly, Violet nodded and slowly ran her fingertips across every inch of his face. Clay didn’t move, barely breathed.

  “What is this rough place?” she asked. “Was someone mean to you and hurt you?”

  Clay wasn’t sure what to say. He was feeling his way the same as Violet.

  At last he said, “It’s a scar where a knife cut me.”

  “Does it hurt?”

  “Not anymore.”

  “Did a mean person do it?”

  “Yes.”

  “A bad man hurt me too. I asked God to tie up all the mean men before I went to sleep last night. Sometimes they get loose. I’ll pray again tonight and ask Him to tie them real good and tight—with a better rope this time, so they can’t hurt us.”

  “Thank you.” Clay kissed her cheek. “I’m not ever going to let anyone hurt you. All right?”

  She burrowed against his chest. “I think you must be an awful brave man, Mr. Clay.”

  “I don’t know about that, but I do know that you and your mama are the most precious things in my life and I’ll fight to the last drop of blood to keep you both safe.”

  Violet patted his face. “I’m glad, so we can stay here.”

  Thickness filled his throat. Why he’d been given all this now, after so many years alone, he didn’t know. He swallowed hard to clear his voice. “You’re everything I ever wanted, Violet.” He took her small hand and laid it on his chest. “I have you tucked deep in my heart. Do you feel it?”

  She nodded. “I wish I could see you for real. I know you must look like a handsome prince. Mama says those are the best kind. But I can see inside you and it’s beautiful.”

  Clay let out a small cry. This child had such a way of putting things. Tally watched from nearby. He gave her a wink to let her know things were fine, remembering her words the first day and a promise to kill him if he ever mistreated Violet. She hadn’t known he’d never cause the girl any harm.

  “Let’s get to your lessons, baby girl.” He took Violet’s hand and showed her how to use the walking stick he’d made, always speaking to the girl with a gentle voice and light touch.