Outlaw's Bride

by Maureen McKade

  Had Mattie changed him that much? Had her dislike of guns made him reconsider his own beliefs?

  No, it was merely a result of his mixed-up emotions. As soon as he strapped on the gunbelt and left this place behind, he’d be fine.

  Clint donned the gunbelt and tied the rawhide laces around his thigh to hold the holster in place. Then he tossed his saddlebags over a shoulder and strode out of the room, but stopped to gaze back at it one last time.

  You’re making a mistake.

  He swallowed and ignored his own inner voice.

  Mattie slipped downstairs before Clint caught her eavesdropping on his farewell to Andy. She had to regain her composure before she said her own good-byes. How would she get through that if she wasn’t even strong enough to witness Clint and Andy’s farewell?

  She picked up her broom, hoping the familiar task would calm her. Instead she recalled swinging the handle at Clint, and she pressed a hand to cover her smile as moisture filled her eyes. He had been startled, but not angry, which had surprised her. She’d apologized, but then they’d teased one another about the accident. Jason would have …

  What would her husband have done?

  Jason had been so young, so immature—he couldn’t tolerate anyone laughing at him. That and his gun had led to his death. If only he could have walked away.

  Hearing Clint’s footsteps on the stairs, Mattie quickly brushed her sleeve across her eyes and turned to greet him, still clutching the broom in her hands.

  Clint paused on the lowest step and held up his hands in surrender. “You don’t plan on hitting me again, do you?”

  Her heart lifted a little and she straightened, propping a hand on her hip. “It wouldn’t do any good. You’re too hardheaded.”

  He chuckled and his eyes twinkled. “I’ve been told that once or twice before.”

  She didn’t doubt that. The man had more pride and stubbornness than sense, but that was part of what made him who he was. So she accepted those qualities, along with the good that she knew was within him.

  Clint reached for the broom, and she released the handle reluctantly, feeling exposed and vulnerable. He leaned it in the corner and paused, resting his weight on one leg and tucking his thumbs in his jeans pockets.

  Mattie’s heart raced. She couldn’t draw her gaze away from him—his long-legged stance, his piercing green eyes, his shoulder-length unruly hair, and the half-smile that penetrated all her defenses. Her gaze flickered to his Colt, but she felt no outrage, only sadness. The gun would always be a part of who he was, too.

  “I suppose you’re ready to go.” She hated the fact that her voice wavered. This was something she’d been preparing herself for since the day she knew he would recover.

  His gaze looked past her. “I reckon.” He shifted his weight to the other foot and met her eyes. “Would you walk me down to the corral?”

  “I’d like that. Wait just a moment.” She hurried into the kitchen and grabbed a bag. Returning to the foyer, she handed it to him awkwardly. “I made you a lunch to eat on the way.”

  Clint’s eyes shone with gratitude as he took the bag from her. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  She shrugged, hoping the nonchalant gesture hid the ache beneath. “I know, but I wanted to.”

  “Thank you.”

  He laid his palm lightly against her waist to guide her out the door. She wanted to plant her heels down, to force him to stay with her and Andy, but Clint Beaudry was determined to leave, and nothing she could say would dissuade him.

  They walked across the yard, passing Jewel, who glanced at them lazily, then went back to chewing her cud and swinging her tail to chase away the flies. Mattie wished she, too, could be as unconcerned about everything going on around her.

  “Will you be all right here alone?” Clint asked.

  “I’ve been all right for ten years. Why should things be any different now?”

  He shrugged, his thick hair brushing across his shoulders. “I guess because now I’ll worry about you.”

  Mattie’s step faltered. “Don’t worry about me, Clint. Just do what you have to do.”

  They stopped by the corral where Dakota was tied, saddled, and ready to go. Mattie leaned a shoulder against a post and crossed her arms. Clint tied his saddlebags behind the cantle and the lunch bag to the pommel, his long fingers working gracefully as he knotted the rawhide latigos.

  Mattie’s belly cramped with sorrow and a sob traveled up her throat. She swallowed convulsively against it. She couldn’t break down—she wanted to leave Clint with the illusion that she was as strong as he believed. There would be time for tears late at night when the house was still and she was alone.

  So very alone.

  He turned to face her, his wide brim shading his features. “Thanks, Mattie. You saved my life.” He took a deep breath. “And maybe my soul.”

  The lump in her throat returned. Had she saved his life only to have him lose it a day or a month down the road?

  “You’re welcome,” she said, keeping her voice even.

  Clint reached into his duster pocket and withdrew some coins. “Here’s what I owe you for the time I was here.”

  “No, please—I couldn’t take anything.”

  He smiled crookedly. The endearing expression battered her feeble defenses, and he took her hand. Turning her palm upward, he dropped the money in the center of it. There were six ten-dollar gold pieces.

  “I can’t. This is too much,” she argued, trying to give them back to him.

  He curled her fingers around the coins and wrapped his hand around her fist. “It’s not nearly enough, but I think this is the most you’ll take without putting up too much of a fuss.” He paused and brushed his fingertips across her cheek.

  She wanted to close her eyes and lean her face into his palm, but that would only make his leave-taking more painful.

  “I know you can use it, Mattie,” Clint said. “Buy Andy some new clothes and get yourself a pretty dress and a new hat—to match your eyes.”

  A tear spilled down her cheek, but she didn’t allow any more. “Thank you, Clint.” She shook so badly she thought she’d fly into a million pieces, and only sheer force of will kept her whole. She stepped back, though every part of her yearned to stay close to him. “Good-bye.”

  “Don’t I get a good-bye kiss?” He flashed a roguish smile, but his eyes didn’t twinkle.

  She wanted to kiss him, but not as a farewell. Still, this would be her last chance …

  Mattie put her arms around his neck. He appeared surprised, and she murmured, “Kiss me, you damn stubborn fool.”

  Clint wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close as his lips swooped down upon hers. She opened her mouth to his and their tongues dueled in a heated contest of passion, making her throb and burn for him anew.

  Just one night in his arms hadn’t been enough. It would never be enough.

  Someone cleared his throat behind them. Startled, Mattie drew back. She peeked around Clint to see Herman, a deceptively innocent expression on his wrinkled face.

  “You young’uns about done spoonin’?” he asked.

  “Not even close,” Clint muttered.

  Mattie ducked her head to hide her smile. It was probably a good thing Herman had shown up when he did. The way her blood was racing, she might have lured Clint into the barn to find a nice soft pile of hay.

  “Wanted to catch you afore you left,” Herman said, approaching them. “And looks like I done caught you good.” The old man cackled.

  Clint saved her from further embarrassment by extending his hand to Herman. “Thanks for everything.”

  The gray-haired man shook his hand. “Good luck to you, young feller. I have a feeling you’re gonna need it.”

  Clint sent him a nod, then turned back to Mattie. He laid his warm hand on her forearm. “Take care of yourself, Mattie.”

  She lifted her chin and forced a smile. “You, too.”

  They stared at one another for a
long moment. Mattie wanted nothing more than to fly back into his arms, and she could see the same reluctance in Clint’s face.

  She lifted a hand toward him, then let it drop back to her side. If she talked him into staying, his regrets would come to poison any affection he held for her.

  He turned away and stuck his toe in the stirrup, mounting Dakota with a smooth motion that belied his wounds. Threading the reins between his fingers, he guided the mare between Herman and Mattie.

  He touched the brim of his hat with two fingers and pressed his heels to Dakota’s flanks. The sorrel trotted down the road, carrying away the man Mattie loved.

  She curled her fingers into fists and fought the rising surge of tears. Clint was gone and he wouldn’t return. Those were the facts, and she would live with them. Just as she’d lived with Jason’s death.

  Only Clint wasn’t dead. Yet.

  Herman put a thin arm around Mattie’s shoulders. “It’s all right, girl. You don’t have to be strong now.”

  “Yes… yes, I do.” She pressed lips together and shook her head. “Crying isn’t going to bring him back.”

  “Maybe not, but it might make you feel better.”

  Mattie watched Clint’s figure grow smaller and smaller. “The only thing that’ll make me feel better is time.”

  Herman gave her a squeeze, then released her. He glanced back at the house and pointed to a window. “I reckon Andy ain’t takin’ it so good, neither.”

  Mattie followed Herman’s finger and spotted her son in his window. From this distance she couldn’t tell if he was crying or not, but it gave her something else to focus on rather than Clint’s leaving. “I’d better go make sure he’s all right.”

  She caught one last glimpse of Clint before he disappeared beyond the trees.

  Folks said time mended all things, including a shattered heart.

  She prayed they were right.

  Clint didn’t dare turn around until he was certain he could no longer see Mattie. He tightened his grip on the reins, making Dakota snort and toss her head.

  “Sorry, girl,” he murmured, loosening the reins.

  There was a dull ache in his side, but it was nothing compared to the ache in his chest. Leaving Mattie behind was the most difficult thing he’d ever done. If she had asked him to stay, he might have done so. But she hadn’t. She had given him his freedom without any recriminations.

  The Mattie he’d met nearly four weeks ago had changed and softened. She had stopped denying her womanhood, but the cost to him had been higher than he could have imagined.

  Mattie St. Clair had stolen his heart.

  He glanced upward at the blue sky and wondered if Emily was gazing down at him. And if she was, what was she thinking? Did she think he was a fool for leaving Mattie and her son? Or did she want him to find her murderer and reap vengeance?

  “I won’t break my promise to you, Em. I’ll find the sonuvabitch who murdered you, but I can’t give you my todays anymore,” he whispered. “Those belong to Mattie now.”

  He took a deep breath and urged Dakota into a canter. The future extended only as far as it took to find Emily’s killer.

  After that …

  The sound of an approaching horse sent Mattie scurrying to the window. She swept aside the curtain and recognized Kevin’s buggy coming up the road. Her heart fell, and she chastised herself. For the past month, every time Mattie heard a horse, her pulse quickened and she held her breath, hoping Clint had returned.

  Her foolish anticipation refused to be squelched no matter how hard she tried to convince herself he was gone for good. The plain fact was, Mattie didn’t want to let him go. Every night as she lay in her bed, she relived the glorious hours spent in his arms. But every day, she pasted on a smile for Andy and Kevin.

  She suspected Herman knew how much she missed Clint. She would catch his rheumy eyes on her, watching her with something akin to sympathy. Her situation was too much like his unrequited love for Ruth.

  Kevin hopped down from the buggy and climbed the steps to the porch. Mattie smoothed a hand across her hair, then down her skirt. Kevin had been coming by at least three days a week. At first it had been to check on Andy’s ankle, then it had gradually changed to outright courting. She truly cared for Kevin, but there was no spark like there had been with Clint.

  She smiled to herself—what she and Clint shared could hardly be called a mere spark. More like a wildfire.

  Kevin knocked on the door and Mattie opened it wide. “Hello, Kevin,” she greeted, inserting a note of pleasure.

  He smiled and removed his narrow-brimmed hat. “Good afternoon, Mattie.”

  “Won’t you come in?” She motioned for him to enter.

  Ever since Clint had left, Kevin had been behaving much more like himself, relaxed and easygoing. But today, when he stepped inside, he silently turned his hat around and around in his hands.

  “Is something wrong?” Mattie asked, genuinely concerned.

  He flashed a too-wide smile. “No, no, of course not. What could be wrong?”

  Mattie gazed at him through narrowed eyes. “I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.”

  “Would you like to take a buggy ride?” he blurted. “It’s a beautiful day and it would do you good to get out for a little while. In fact, we could go down to that pond Andy and Herman like so well.”

  No doubt about it, Kevin was rambling. And when Kevin rambled, he was anxious about something—usually a patient. What was bothering him now?

  “That sounds like a wonderful idea. Let me get my bonnet.”

  He seemed relieved that she didn’t press him further, but Mattie was saving that for the ride. She hurried up to her room and pulled a hatbox down from the top of her armoire. Opening it, she lifted out a wide-brimmed straw hat trimmed with lavender ribbon and deep violet blossoms. It was one of the two extravagances she’d allowed herself with Clint’s money. The other was a dress the exact color of the blossoms on her hat. She’d decided to ignore practicality for the first time in years.

  She placed the hat at a jaunty angle and tied the ribbons beneath her chin. Staring at her reflection, she couldn’t help wondering if Clint would like it. She often imagined herself wearing the new dress and hat as Clint waltzed her across a dance floor. The only time they’d danced, she had worn her filmy nightgown and he only a pair of jeans.

  Mattie shoved the memory from her thoughts. That was the past. Today, Kevin awaited her. She turned and a wave of dizziness caught her unaware. She grabbed the bedpost and steadied herself. Her stomach fluttered, threatening to lose the lunch she’d eaten an hour ago.

  Folding an arm across her belly, she wondered if she was getting sick. Or perhaps her monthly had finally arrived. Mattie frowned, and counted back the weeks since her last time.

  She was three weeks late.

  She had only been that late one other time in her life.

  “Oh, no,” she whimpered, flattening a hand to her mouth. The room wavered in and out of focus. Her knees crumpled beneath her and she dropped to the edge of her bed.

  The bed where it had happened.

  Clint was finally going to be a father, but he would never know.

  Tears welled in her eyes and she blinked back the moisture. What was she going to do? She couldn’t stand the thought of the townsfolk whispering about her. Again.

  Well, this time she wasn’t an infatuated girl who would allow them to bully her into marriage. This time she’d go to a place where no one knew her, where she could pretend to be a recent widow.

  Or… she could search for Clint.

  No. She hadn’t been a young virgin who didn’t understand the consequences. She’d known them only too well. That was the risk she’d accepted in exchange for just one night.

  Kevin would be wondering where she was. She should come up with an excuse to get out of the buggy ride, but he would suspect something. Mattie sucked in a deep breath and used the bedpost to pull herself to her feet. Her legs still trembled
, but at least they held her upright.

  She stepped over to the mirror and, except for a slight pallor, she looked the same. So why did she feel like a completely different person?

  “Mattie, are you all right?” Kevin’s tentative question from downstairs brought her back to reality.

  “I’ll be down in a minute,” she called back.

  She would accompany Kevin on the ride, but after she returned, she had plans to make. Serious plans involving not just her life, but her son’s. She buried her face in her hands. Why had she taken the chance?

  Because I love him.

  The simple declaration came straight from her soul and gave her courage. Taking a deep breath and pinching her cheeks to give them some color, Mattie strode out of her room and descended the stairs.

  Kevin’s gaze flickered to her head and he smiled. “Is that a new hat?”

  “Yes,” she replied stiffly. “Do you like it?”

  “Very much. It matches your eyes.”

  Mattie was surprised by the compliment. He’d never made mention of her appearance before, though he often praised her intelligence and common sense. “Thank you.”

  He extended his crooked arm and Mattie threaded her hand through it. Grateful for the support, she leaned slightly against him. Although not as tall or as muscular as Clint, Kevin possessed a strength that belied his smaller stature. For a moment she wanted to share her newly discovered secret with him, but quickly thrust the impulse aside. Though compassionate and open-minded, Kevin would probably be disgusted by what she had done.

  Kevin assisted her into the buggy, and Mattie adjusted her skirts while he climbed in on the other side. He snapped the reins and the horse drew the buggy down the road.

  The early fall day boasted a bright blue sky, and the faint scent of autumn was already evident. Mattie rested a palm against her belly. Clint’s child would be born in the spring, when the cycle of the earth was also beginning anew. When seeds would be planted, take root, and grow healthy beneath summer skies.

  Where would she be then?