Lady Outlaws

by Lady outlaws (NCP) (lit)

  “We heard Trilby might be passin’ through Dry Gulch, on his was to San Antonio, so we stopped to have a look.”

  “And?”

  Devon shook his head. “Only welcoming committee we got was William Jackson.”

  “Jackson’s a man hunter,” Cal said.

  “He was.” Devon granted himself a smile in remembering how Brandi saved the day.

  “You shoot him, too?” Cal asked wryly.

  “No sir. Brandi did.”

  All of Cal’s face seemed to fold. It was the first time Devon had ever seen him demonstrate surprise. The pipe was lowered so a drink could be consumed. “Marvelous,” he muttered after clearing his throat. “So not only do you got a price on yer head, you’re also ridin’ with a murderin’ whore.”

  “She ain’t no whore,” Devon said sternly.

  “You married then?”

  “No, sir.”

  Cal laughed. It was a dry humorless laugh. “By God, boy. I ain’t ever seen anybody who wallows in muck with swine like you.”

  “Go to Hell,” Devon said evenly.

  “There’s little doubt in that, son,” Cal chuckled, the pipe returning to his mouth. “So why are you here? I have a distinct feelin’ it ain’t a social visit.”

  Shame washed through Devon. As much as he loved his sister he hadn’t come here for the sole reason of seeing her. His motives were selfish. He needed a place to hide and rest, and if he could find the right words he hoped to convince Cal to help him. How, he wasn’t sure--money, information, contacts--it all depended on how the visit progressed.

  “We had to split up, lay low a spell, on account of there’s another hunter behind me.”

  “Who? And how far behind might he be?” Cal’s brow furrowed.

  “Samson Horn.”

  Cal froze. He didn’t blink, or breathe, or flinch. He sat, dumbstruck for several agonizing moments. “God almighty,” he moaned finally. “Are you sure it’s Horn?”

  Devon nodded. “White horse, white suit. Got a posse of about a dozen. I’m sure.”

  “God almighty,” Cal repeated, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You stay here, yer dead. Horn ain’t like all those other amateurs out there lookin’ fer a quick dollar. If he’s snuffin’ behind yer horse then you are well and truly marked. I strongly suggest you go say goodbye to Sadie and Rufus and first thing come sunup take that tomboy yer poking and ride, long and far.”

  “I was hopin’ to stay a few days,” Devon said.

  Cal shook his head and leaned across the table to Devon. “You ever met Samson Horn? No, I didn’t think so. Well, I have, and it weren’t an agreeable experience. The man is possessed. The fire in his gut can be seen in his eyes. He ain’t ever failed to find the face on a wanted poster and he don’t give a damn who he mows over in the process. I ain’t havin’ you puttin’ my family in danger. Hear?”

  Devon finished his drink and slammed the glass on the table beside Cal’s ledger. “Yes sir, I hear all right. I hear you tellin’ me that on account a man got money and politics and friends in high places that he can get away with murdering boys. And I hear you tellin’ me that you don’t want nothin’ to do with me on account I want justice fer my brother’s death. What happened to yer principles, Cal? Bullet put an end to that so you sit here and regret not hangin’ children fer their father’s sins? You got no more admiration to feed that empty soul of yers, that it? ‘Cept maybe from a few local businessmen and officers. Me being here you might get labeled an associate of outlaws, and by God, that won’t look good on a man who’s standin’ still.”

  Cal’s lips were squeezed together so tightly they turned blue, but he listened, which was more than Devon expected. “Now you hear,” Devon said, grabbing the edge of the table and glaring straight into Cal’s unflinching attention. “I ain’t scared of Samson Horn or whoever else might be hired by Trilby to run me down. I was hopin’ you’d at least feel some loyalty to the family you married into to help me, but I reckon my bein’ here causes you too much of a problem. You got yer reputation, and that’s fine. But I ain’t hidin’ behind excuses or reputations. In the mornin’ my gal and I will be gone so as not to cause you any more inconvenience.”

  On the way to the door Devon put his hat on. Before stepping outside he turned to Cal once more and said, with composure only conviction would permit, “Brandi dresses as a fella but that don’t hide the beauty she wears. I never knowed a woman to be so brave or so devoted and I’m proud she done chose me to her partner. That’s real loyalty, MacCullen. You look at her and see a whore because she don’t fit your rules, but I’ll tell you this much, she’s got more guts than you’ll ever know.”

  Standing up to Coyote Cal’s prejudices and steely dominance was never an easy task and even though Devon had defended his friends and his own integrity the best he could, he still didn’t feel satisfied. He had hoped an offer of help would be placed on the table between them, not a barrage of criticisms, ones Devon had to justify. He hated Cal for always putting him on the defensive, but so be it. Devon had been seeking Cal’s response and a response he got.

  “Brandi?” Devon was shocked to find her peeking round the side of the building when he came out. “What are you doin’?” He swept her into his arms and carried her a few feet to a large pile of logs. Making sure they hadn’t been seen, he sat down and took her to the ground with him.

  Her eyes shimmered with tears even though she struggled to smile. “You are so totally awesome,” she whispered.

  “Is that a good thing?” he asked, amused again at the odd language she continued to use.

  “Oh, yes.” Arms flew round Devon’s neck and he squeezed her tightly. “Very good.”

  They couldn’t crouch here for long. Devon didn’t want Cal to overhear intimate words if he happened to come outside. But she felt so good, breasts squashed against his chest. Devon allowed himself the luxury of stroking her short hair while fluttering a quick kiss against her ear. “How much did you overhear?” he asked.

  “Enough to confirm my first impression. Your brother-in-law is a heartless bastard.”

  “Shush. Don’t say that. He’s got his shortcomings, like we all do, but he’s done lots of good as well. I might not always agree with what he says, but I respect him and he’s a good husband to my sister.”

  “He doesn’t respect you,” she said. “Let’s leave. You don’t need him. You have me instead.”

  Devon’s chest swelled with pride. She seemed to reflect his thought processes, picking them out of the air and putting them into words, words that failed him. It was reassuring in a way, disconcerting in another way. The bond he felt was strengthening, a bond that had quickly gone from suspicion, to amusement, and then made one final giant leap into adoration. Devon held her so close he nearly squeezed her breath away.

  “Not yet, darlin’,” he said softly. “I got to visit with Sadie awhile, and we need to get you a horse and let mine rest. No, we’ll leave tomorrow.”

  “Devon,” she said, squirming loose from his grip. “There are things we need to tell each other. You need to tell me about what’s happened and I need to tell you where I ... I mean I have to tell you how I…” Her gaze dropped.

  He heard her voice, knew she was struggling to share a secret, but Devon couldn’t concentrate on anything other than the sweetness of her lips. He watched them form words and he listened to sounds, yet all he could think about was tasting her, all of her, from her mouth to her neck to her breasts and beyond. He had claimed her as his own yet hadn’t consummated that proclamation. When Devon made up his mind about something, there was no going back, and he had certainly decided that Brandi was his. While blood ran hot through his veins she would never belong to another.

  He’d have to tame those quick remarks, but when they were alone she wouldn’t need to cool those sweet lips.

  Whatever it was she had felt so urgent to say was abandoned as he leaned forward with a hard kiss. The excitement within his body was growing so painfu
l it was almost unbearable. He had been with women often, but only for release. Never had he felt for a woman as he did for Brandi. Yes, he wanted the pleasures her body had to offer, but he also wanted to return that pleasure. And afterwards he wouldn’t place money on a bureau and leave. Afterwards he would keep her by his side. He couldn’t be without her. Ever.

  When she crawled onto his lap, Devon was shocked. He had always been the instigator. Wasn’t that the way it should be? Now she would know how excited he was. His alarm worsened when she wiggled as though measuring that excitement.

  “Still packing heat are you?” she teased.

  Devon’s mouth had dried. He couldn’t even answer. His mind told him he should push her away and scold her for being so wicked. A woman of his shouldn’t behave so shamelessly, especially outside, behind a woodpile, in broad daylight.

  He didn’t push her away; he pulled her closer instead. He was losing control and it was spectacular.

  “Uncle Dev,” came a small voice near by. “Ma says to wash up fer supper.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Brandi whispered through exasperation. “I’m going to tie that child to a tree.”

  “We’ll be there in a few minutes,” Devon said over Brandi’s shoulder. “Off you go. There’s a good lad.”

  Before letting go of the warm body that continued to pin him against the ground, Devon searched for the proper words to convey his appreciation of Brandi’s act of affection. Nothing came to him. Hungry as he was he would have gladly forfeited a meal to spend more precious moments with her locked within an embrace, but the sun was beginning to sink. Once the shadows grew long and their presence at the dinner table no longer required, he would escort her to the bed they’d share in the barn.

  Daylight required attention to family obligations; darkness would reveal the depth of his passion.

  Chapter Seven

  The meal was hearty and thoroughly satisfying: chicken and dumplings, cornbread, and sweet potatoes. Sadie had even gone to the trouble of making a cake for dessert. Brandi wondered how she managed to prepare such a delicious meal and finish sewing a shirt for her husband as well. The meal was even more pleasant because Cal was absent attending to his business with Joshua Rumford, whose buggy was parked outside. The conversation, filled with laughter and gossip, changed abruptly once Cal’s business was finished and he hobbled inside to sit down to a plate that had been kept warming on the stove.

  Devon had pushed back his chair and lit a thin cigarette as Sadie poured coffee. “How’s Joshua?” she asked. “All set for the wedding this weekend?”

  “He never mentioned it,” Cal said without looking up. It was as though they weren't even in the room.

  “Dev,” Sadie chirped. “You and Brandi have to stay for that. It’s Beth who’s gettin’ hitched. You remember Beth don’t you?”

  At the mention of the name Cal lifted bullet eyes to Devon. Then he glanced sideways to Brandi before returning to his dinner.

  “Yep, I remember Beth,” Devon answered warily. “But I don’t think we’ll be stayin’.”

  “You must!” Sadie exclaimed. “Everyone’ll be there. Oh, Cal, honey, convince Dev to stay.”

  No persuasion was issued. Cal continued eating his meal in silence.

  “Well,” Sadie said. “I insist you stay. Not every day we get to join in such happy celebrations. Life is too short not to have some fun once in awhile.”

  “You finish all yer chores?” Cal said to Rufus, who had sat silently throughout dinner.

  “Yes, sir.

  “Then get off to bed.”

  “Aw,” the boy complained. “But I wanna hear…”

  “Do as yer told,” Cal thundered.

  Without further protests Rufus fell into his mother’s arms for a goodnight kiss. “’Night,” he said to both Devon and Brandi in turn before scampering off.

  Brandi got the uncomfortable feeling the boy had been sent off because a lecture was in the making, one meant for her and Devon. She stiffened and waited, reminding herself to keep quiet regardless of what might be said.

  “Yer babying that boy too much,” Cal said as he lit his pipe. “He ain’t gonna be much of a man if his mama keeps coddlin’ him.”

  “Showing affection aids healthy mental development in children,” Brandi stated, forgetting her silent vow to remain mute, no matter what. She couldn’t help herself. The man’s overbearing demeanor was driving her crazy.

  A falling pin would have deafened everyone in the room.

  “Then Beth Rumford should be a well rounded girl by now,” Cal said while fixating a stare at Devon. His wry smirk held no humor, but he looked quite satisfied with his witticism.

  “That’s all ancient history,” Sadie said shyly. “Besides, a girl’s past isn’t somethin’ worth dwellin’ on once she’s found the right man to be betrothed to.”

  “It’s the methods they use in findin’ a husband that bothers me.” Cal sniffed.

  Brandi knew full well the snubs were meant for her. And she wasn’t about to take his insulting remarks lightly. For the sake of her hostess, however, Brandi smiled warmly. “Well,” she said cheerfully, “I’m sure if you wrote a how-to guide for women to learn respectability, it’d be a nationwide best seller.”

  “More cake anyone?” Sadie asked.

  “Where did you learn yer uncultivated manners, Miss…” Cal’s brow creased. “Don’t think I caught yer last name, Brandi.”

  “Johansson,” Brandi said truthfully. “And for there just being my Pa to teach me how to hunt and shoot and work the farm and hold my head up high, I don’t reckon there’s much uncultivated about my manners.”

  This was pure fiction. Brandi’s father was a computer technician and her mother a teacher and they had lived in a townhouse on the outskirts of Metropolitan Toronto before she went to college to get her own teaching degree in history. Her ‘uncultivated’ manners, as 1885 male attitude labeled them, came from Brandi’s mother. “Don’t let any man ever try to tell you how to live your life. They all think they can, so just watch out.” This was likely where Brandi formulated a measuring stick for the perfect partner. If her mother could see her now!

  Despite her satisfaction in answering Cal’s question effectively, she sensed he didn’t believe anything she said. He had made up his mind who and what she was and little could be said to change that. Especially the truth. Wouldn’t that blow his opinionated narrow mind?

  Keeping the charade going Brandi sighed sadly and added, “When my Pa died I sold the farm and decided to see the world. There’s so much to see and do, even for a woman.”

  “How brave,” Sadie said.

  “How foolish,” Cal snuffed. “You dress and act like a murderin’ outlaw, you’ll end up being treated as one. Won’t be the world you’ll be seein’ before long.” He threw a hard stare at Devon who threw another right back in return.

  “Sadie,” Devon said, reaching across the table to take his sister’s hand. “We got hunters after us. I reckon it was stupid of me to come here, put you in danger, so Brandi and me are goin’ to be movin’ on come mornin’.”

  “Oh, Dev,” Sadie whispered. “It’s because of Jon, ain’t it?”

  Devon nodded.

  “Just one more day,” Sadie pleaded. “Surely one day won’t make much of a difference. You got to rest and eat. Look at you, yer as thin as a rake.”

  Her chin shivered in a brave attempt to keep tears from flooding out. Before Devon could give any answer she winced and folded slightly, holding her stomach. Cal’s usual stern expression grew instantly concerned. “Sadie, are you okay?”

  “Yes, I’m fine. Just a bit tired.”

  “Come along,” Cal said, helping her up. “Doc said if there were pains you should lie down.” He had visibly paled.

  “No,” Sadie whimpered. “If Dev’s leaving, I want to be up fer as long as possible.”

  “He ain’t leavin’ yet,” Cal said reluctantly. “I reckon one day’ll be all right.”
<
br />   “Do you mean it, honey?” Sadie asked, allowing him to take her arm. “Really?” She quickly winked to Brandi before being escorted to bed.

  Brandi couldn’t help but be thoroughly amused. Big ol’ nasty Cal was being manipulated. Certainly with more discreet tactics than Brandi would think of using, but manipulated just the same. Women had their ways with men after all, she mused, regardless the century in which they were living.

  One more day it was. But first there was the night and Brandi was going to have her way, too.

  * * * *

  Devon hung the oil lamp on a hook over the narrow door. There was ample light for Brandi to tuck the corners of the bed sheet under the straw mattress. And there was enough shadow to conceal the identity of whatever creature was making a small scratching sound somewhere nearby. Mice and men. Spreading out the quilt she dismissed the thoughts of mice ... for obvious reasons.

  But Devon hadn’t moved from the door. He stood as though his feet were cemented to the wooden planks beneath. It hadn’t taken long for Brandi to make the bed. She certainly didn’t expect Devon to suddenly be overcome with an acute case of shyness. Or was he having second thoughts?

  “You okay?” Brandi asked.

  He didn’t answer. His head bowed as though in prayer and he shifted his weight from one leg to the other. “Maybe I should ... bunk out here.”

  “Why?” Brandi proceeded with caution. He was hovering like a frightened stray and the least provocation might instigate escape. “I don’t bite,” she smiled.

  “I ain’t so certain of that, either,” he said with a quick grin.

  “What do you mean?” Brandi’s heart had begun to sink. Another barrier had developed and she couldn’t understand why. If she wanted to spend the night curled in his arms she had to proceed with utmost caution. If only he could discover the power of speech then she could show him the depth of her passion. “Tell me what you’re uncertain about, and then I’ll tell you how wrong you are.”

  She took a step closer. In closing the distance he fidgeted, so she stopped. She couldn't tolerate being left alone. Not tonight. Not any night.