The Outlaw's Mail Order Bride

by Linda Broday

  “Come out while there’s still time,” he yelled. “You don’t want to die this way.”

  By the time he worked his way to the front, flames engulfed the entire building. He headed for Tally and put his arm around her. She laid a palm on his chest and shuddered against him like a foal learning how to stand on its wobbly legs each time a timber crashed, sending a mass of sparks flying.

  “Clay, it’ll soon all be gone. We won.”

  “Has your hearing returned?”

  “Some. I can barely hear what you’re saying. It’s like my head is inside a bell.” She sucked in a breath and pointed to a second-story window. “Look.”

  Surrounded by searing flames, Slade Tarver stared down, barely trying to shield himself. The heat must be tremendous, and it boggled Clay’s mind that he’d chosen such a gruesome way to die. A bullet would be a whole lot less painful. He pulled his gun to end his foe’s suffering, but before he pulled the trigger, he stopped, transfixed.

  An odd grin stretched across Tarver’s face, like he was saying, “I beat you.”

  Maybe he was the insane one after all.

  Thirty-four

  Tally stared, transfixed, at the raging fire Clay had set in the structure that had harbored so much pain, misery, and death. The flames rose up high against the backdrop of the inky sky. The fierce crackle and roar was that of some kind of enraged monster, feeding on everything in its path, gobbling up every stick of wood, cleansing the place of evil.

  Her soul finally seemed at peace. Almost entirely, anyway. She wouldn’t find total quietness inside until she’d reckoned with dear stepmother Lucinda.

  One last look at the second-floor window showed her that Slade Tarver was gone. He had to be dead, consumed by the horrific heat of the flames.

  Well, she wouldn’t waste one ounce of sympathy on the bastard. He deserved his fate.

  Moments later, the remainder of the flaming timbers crashed down, and the whole structure collapsed, leaving only the thick stone walls, blackened by the fire as witnesses to the crimes that had occurred here.

  Her heart ached for Montana. Though he’d done a lot of wrong, Violet had seen the good in him. And then when he’d spoken of his life and the things that he’d faced, Tally couldn’t help but sympathize. He wasn’t all bad, and she prayed the good Lord would take all of that, and the hell he’d been in while alive, into consideration.

  She jumped at the sound of a galloping horse and Clay whirled, drawing his Remington, bending his knees and dropping low. Readying for another fight. A buggy raced from the darkness and pulled to a stop in front of them.

  A woman leaned out to yell. “What happened here? Who did this?”

  Clay’s jaw clenched and his angled features revealed sharp irritation. “Well, ma’am, I set fire to it, that’s what happened. It had to be destroyed. Who are you?”

  Pure rage climbed up Tally’s spine at the sight of that familiar face. She slipped her hand around Clay’s elbow. “Hello, Lucinda.”

  Tally watched surprise ripple across Clay’s face. Finally seeing Lucinda in the flesh seemed to have a grim effect, judging by his stone features and hard eyes. The blackness inside that he’d admitted struggling with appeared to be rising. She didn’t know what he had in mind, but killing the evil woman outright would be wrong.

  No matter what she’d done, Lucinda wasn’t worth getting hanged for.

  “Who are you? Do you know me?” The woman leaned forward to peer at Tally, then recoiled and dropped the reins.

  Tally didn’t speak, but her glare said volumes. Now that she had the opportunity, face-to-face with her devil, she had too much to say for one short sitting. Where did one start to express the level of grief Lucinda had caused?

  Yet, her stepmother wasn’t one to take the low road. She recovered quickly and released her customary haughty venom, ice forming around her words. “I prayed you’d be dead by now, Tally. When Pollard sent word that you’d escaped, I rode over and gave him and everyone else a chewing out—then doubled the reward.”

  Even after the two years that had passed, Lucinda persisted in her single goal.

  “All of that did nothing to change the fact that Tally was still free.” Clay laid his hand on hers and Tally welcomed the warmth.

  “How does it feel to know you couldn’t destroy me? You gave it your best effort, and yet here I am. You failed. I’ve won.” Tally leaned closer to deliver the part she’d waited so long to say. “I beat you.”

  “You just think you have. I have lots of other ways to kill you.” Lucinda snapped her fingers. “Just like that.”

  “Don’t you ever give up?” Tally wondered what else she’d have to guard against.

  “Never, as long as you draw breath.”

  Clay straightened, the muscle in his jaw working. “Leave now before I lose control.”

  Lucinda bristled. “You can’t tell me what to do. I have more right to be here than you.”

  “Your choice,” Clay barked. “I won’t warn you again.” Clay swung the long barrel of his Remington up and pointed it at Lucinda, and Tally sucked in a breath.

  “I’ve killed a lot of men over the years, but you’ll be my first woman. Heed my words. If you don’t turn that rig around and leave right now, I’ll put a bullet in you so fast you won’t have time to blink.” He paused then thundered, “Decide and make it fast. You don’t know how bad I itch to pull this trigger, lady.”

  An angry flush crept up Lucinda’s face. She opened her mouth to protest, then appeared to think better of it. She backed the buggy up.

  Tally circled around and grabbed the horse’s bridle before Lucinda could speed away. “Expect a knock on your door. I’m taking you to court to get back all you stole from me. Once I tell them everything, they’ll arrest you faster than you can swallow.”

  “I’ll see you in hell first!”

  “For two cents, I’d take my buggy and make you walk home. Unfortunately, it’s too small for our needs. Our dead friend won’t fit.” Besides, Lucinda would have them arrested for theft. Tally moved to the side of the buggy to finger the hem of Lucinda’s expensive dress. “After I get through with you, you’ll have to wear rags. You’ll be a pauper, a nobody. Too bad Clay burned this place. I’d like to stick you in here for a month, but I doubt you’d survive one day chained in the basement with the rats.” She shrugged. “Mind you, I hear prison is just as bad. Murderers get no special favors or soft beds. You’ll live out your days on a chain gang, toiling from sunup to sundown.”

  “This isn’t over,” Lucinda spat.

  “No, ma’am.” Clay patted the horse’s rump. “It’s just beginning and hell is awful hot.”

  Lucinda shook her reins at the horse. She left a trail of dust behind her, rising up like a buzzard taking flight from a rotted carcass.

  Tally swung to Clay, shaking with hate and bitterness. “I wanted to claw her eyes out. But I kept thinking of Montana lying over there, and I knew he wouldn’t want Violet’s mother to get thrown in jail. I think we gave her something to chew on—I just wonder if it was wise to forewarn her.”

  Clay draped an arm around Tally’s neck. “Probably not, but it sure felt good to watch her squirm. I really wanted to kill her—you don’t know how bad—but a bullet would be too fast. She needs to suffer.”

  He looked at the hulk that was once Creedmore. “It’s gone, Tally. I’ll get a wagon, if one’s left, and load up Montana. We’re not burying him here. We’ll take him to a peaceful, pretty spot. Maybe put him under a tall tree that has the breeze sighing through its branches.”

  Quick tears bubbled in her eyes, but she smiled. “He’d like that. One day we’ll bring Violet to visit her old friend.”

  “We’ll make that happen, darlin’.” Clay strode to the back and returned with a shovel and a two-wheeled cart that Tally had seen used to remove the dead from the asylum.
“This was all that remained.”

  “It’ll do. I don’t think Montana will mind.” She shot a glance to the outlaw’s still body, covered with her bedroll.

  Clay hitched her mare to the cart and loaded Montana. “I hope you don’t mind riding double.”

  “Not one bit.” After all they’d been through, she didn’t want to be separated from him for a minute.

  A little while after they set out with Tally riding in front on Sundown, she found herself lulled by the horse’s rocking and rested her head on Clay’s chest. They’d been twenty-four hours without sleep and she couldn’t hold her eyes open any longer. His arms were around her and she was safe, albeit a little worse for wear.

  When she awoke, the sun was up and Clay had stopped at a cool stream to water the horses. “How far are we from Creedmore?”

  “About thirty miles or so, I figure.” He wiped his weary eyes and helped her down.

  “Good.”

  The newly risen sun sparkled on the water, creating diamonds on the ripples. Clay’s paint gelding and Tally’s little mare eagerly drank their fill. After quenching their own thirst, Clay took out his knife and painstakingly removed the shrapnel from her that he’d been forced to leave earlier, then tended to her many cuts.

  Finally, she pushed him away. “That’s enough. Dr. Mary will finish when we get home. I want to get moving soon. I miss Violet. I’m needing to hug our daughter.”

  Clay returned his knife to his boot. “Me too.”

  She ran to the water and dunked her body in the stream. “I’m glad to get this filth off me.”

  “Let’s take a bath. It won’t take long and it’ll feel mighty good.” Clay waggled his eyebrows suggestively at her.

  She knew if they got naked, they’d not get back on the road anytime soon. But they needed this time to regroup. She hurried from the water. “Our clothes can stand a good washing and we brought a change. You think of the best ideas.”

  “I can come up with one on occasion.” Clay slid his arms around her waist, putting his forehead against hers.

  Tally soaked up the feel of his body. “It’s so beautiful here. The peace of this place erases the evil we survived back there.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.” Clay pointed to the grove of trees that dotted the rolling hills. “How about burying Montana on top of that next hill, darlin’?”

  “That’s perfect. And it’s far enough away from the water source.”

  “Then that’ll be the first order of business after we take that bath.” He quickly shed his clothes and jumped in. He floated, whistling while he watched Tally undress.

  Heat raced along her nerve endings. “See anything you like, cowboy?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I believe I do. Hurry up, the water’s nice and refreshing.”

  “You want me, you’ll have to come and get me.”

  Hunger built in his eyes. As fast as he could draw his gun, he leaped from the water. Tally enjoyed a quick look at his sleek, naked body, then squealed and turned to run. Her heart beat wildly as he chased her before he finally hooked an arm around her waist.

  Clay tenderly held her face between his hands and slid his lips across hers, her pulse racing as he settled them firmly into the kiss.

  If it hadn’t been for the small space she’d dropped into at the last second, she wouldn’t be alive. Each time the thought crossed her mind at how close she’d come to losing him and Violet, her bones turned to a quivering mass of jelly.

  She wanted to tell him how terrified she had been back there, but his eyes said he already knew it. Clay Colby didn’t miss much, and maybe this extra time alone would help to settle their jagged nerves that little bit more.

  He splayed his hand against her back to anchor her and deepened the kiss. Tally leaned against him, her knees giving way.

  Breaking the kiss, she dropped to the soft grass and pulled him down. Just her and Clay and the gentle breeze that cleared the stench of Creedmore from their noses. While the rippling current serenaded them, she let his love renew and nourish her spirit.

  * * *

  Fresh from her bath and dressed, Tally picked an armful of wildflowers while Clay dug a grave under a huge walnut tree. The large circumference of the trunk put it at several hundred years old. She smiled. It was perfect for an old, crusty outlaw. They could discuss the many things they’d seen.

  She laid the flowers down and took Clay some water. He wiped the sweat pouring off him and guzzled from the canteen, then wiped his mouth on his shirtsleeve, his eyes locked on hers. “You always know when I need you.”

  Tally kissed his cheek. “Not yet, but I’m learning your ways. Rest. I can dig awhile.”

  “Nope. I’ve about got it.” He winked. “Besides, I don’t want to ruin that pretty skirt.”

  In no time, they were lowering Montana into his final resting place. Clay turned to her. “I doubt he ever darkened church doors, but we should say a few words over him.”

  “I agree, except we don’t have a Bible.”

  “I don’t reckon that makes a lot of difference. We’ll just speak our minds.”

  “I don’t think Montana is in any shape to protest.”

  Clay cleared his throat. “Dear Lord. I know this man smells worse than a gut wagon, and I’m still cussing a blue streak over him burning down the town I built, but a little girl sees the good in him and maybe you can too. Let him in and give him a good rocking chair. I figure he earned it. That’s about all I have to say.”

  Tally laced her fingers through Clay’s and fought back tears. “Please let Montana be with his wife and child. He’s done good things and bad, mostly bad, but none of us are ever perfect. Without him, we couldn’t have made it out of Creedmore alive. He sacrificed everything and paid the price for a little girl he loved with all his heart, so that has to count for something. Amen.”

  They stood in silence for a long moment and Tally stared out over the beautiful Texas landscape, reflecting on the man Montana was. She was going to miss him. How was she going to break the news of his death to Violet?

  Without a word, Clay grabbed the shovel and filled in the hole and stacked rocks on top for extra measure.

  Tally added the profusion of wildflowers and stood back, sniffling. “I think a lot of people will miss him. Do you think we get forgiveness for what we do?”

  “Absolutely. Don’t you?”

  “I’m not sure but I hope so. I’ve done a lot of bad things.”

  He put his arm around her and kissed her temple. “I never killed anyone who didn’t need it, and you haven’t either. We have to stand up against evil. If we don’t, where would we be? The bastards would overrun Texas, and we can’t let that happen.”

  “I suppose.” She glanced up at Clay, her heart—as always—racing double time. “Let’s go home.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Around nightfall, they caught up with the wagons carrying the bedraggled escapees of Creedmore. Tally moved among them, checking on those who were injured. They reminded her of soldiers coming home from the war. Each had been through a horrible time and had difficulty believing they were free.

  Thoughts turned to Edith and her group of the very ill. Tally prayed they would make it to help.

  “I know an excellent doctor who’ll fix you up in no time and remove that mark on your cheek,” she told each one in these wagons. Indeed, Dr. Mary would be very busy for quite a while.

  An overnight stop at Deliverance Canyon was met with happy tears. Finally, those women who’d stayed in hiding for so long could walk free without worry of being killed or arrested, regardless if they opted to remove their tattoos or not. The women loaded up their meager belongings and joined the caravan. First, they’d go to Devil’s Crossing, where Dr. Mary would fix them up and remove the tattoos from those who wanted the procedure and, from there, decide where they
wanted to go to build new lives. They were getting a new start.

  Tally had kept her promise and her shoulders were much lighter.

  She and Clay slowly led the caravan on its winding way toward the small, fledgling town.

  At last, they reached their goal. The lookout sounded the call, and everyone came running. Bullet raced out ahead and danced around the wagon, barking his fool head off.

  Belle and Tobias January each held one of Violet’s hands. “Mama! Daddy!” the child hollered.

  Tears filled Tally’s eyes. She jumped from the wagon and ran, scooping their daughter into her arms. Clay arrived a second behind, encompassing them both in a big hug.

  Violet beamed, patting Tally’s face. “You came back—just like you said.”

  “Yes, and not a second too soon.” Tally kissed her cheek. “I promised.”

  “Mama, I can’t find Mr. Montana. I’ve looked everywhere. He’s gone.”

  Clay picked her up. “That’s because he came with us, baby girl.”

  “Where is he?” Violet stilled and cocked her head. “I don’t hear him.”

  “Honey, we have something to tell you, but it can wait just a bit.” Tally shifted her gaze to the milling crowd that was the men and women of Devil’s Crossing welcoming the wagonloads of escapees. A mist filled her eyes. They were free to flourish and live normal lives.

  Rebel hung back in one of the plain calico dresses Tally had given her, watching it all. Hesitation lined her face.

  Tally gave her hug. “Is everything all right, Rebel?”

  A smile curved the woman’s mouth. “I’m glad you’re back. You succeeded in freeing them.”

  “It wasn’t easy, but yes, they are free.”

  Arm in arm, they moved to help the women climb from the wagons.

  Tally finally turned to look at the town itself and gasped at the buildings. She couldn’t see furnishings from there, but they had freshly painted signs above, each proclaiming the name of the establishment. The creak of the windmill blended with the joyful noise of the welcome-home party, filling Tally with contentment.