The Outlaw's Return

by Victoria Bylin

  On Sunday morning, J.T. put on his best clothes and went to church. He wanted to think he’d come to see Mary, but he knew otherwise. Since their talk, he’d felt like a stranger in his own skin. This morning when he’d shaved, he’d seen a man he didn’t know anymore. He looked younger, almost happy. He was more excited than Gus about the camping trip, and yesterday he’d caught himself humming “Pop Goes the Weasel” while he pounded nails.

  Something crazy was happening to him, and he didn’t like it. If he lost his edge, he’d be a dead man. Yesterday on the roof, he’d glared at the clouds and muttered a foul word just to prove he could do it. It had sounded hollow, and he’d felt an emptiness that had nearly knocked him to his knees. He’d muttered a second oath. If You’re real, God, I want to know it.

  Nothing.

  Silence.

  He’d felt the weight of his guns and made a decision. If God wouldn’t show Himself, J.T. would go hunting for Him. That’s why he was sitting in Brick’s Saloon on Sunday morning, cleaned up and smelling a little too good because he’d come to see Mary, too. He’d arrived early to be sure he got a seat near the back. Fancy Girl lay at his feet, the recipient of a special invitation from Josh. He smiled at the memory of the minister telling him God loved all creatures great and small, and that Fancy would be welcome anytime.

  Keeping an eye on the back door, he saw all sorts of folks coming to church. He recognized a couple of men from the building, three ladies who’d brought lunch and Bessie from Swan’s Nest. The nurse had come in with another woman, a brunette who had to be her sister. Bessie saw him, waved and took a seat near the front.

  Josh came out of a back room and strode to the podium. A fiddle player struck up a melody and the room quieted. J.T. hadn’t seen Mary since Wednesday, and he wanted to know what had happened with Gertie and Roy. Gus had been coming with Josh to work on the roof, but J.T. hadn’t quizzed him. It would have been unfair to the boy.

  With no sign of Mary, his nerves prickled. He was about to leave for the café when Gus, squeaky clean but out of breath, pushed through the doors.

  J.T. motioned to him. “Hey, partner.”

  The boy’s face lit up. “C-c-can I sit with you?”

  “Sure.” J.T. appreciated the company, another sign he wasn’t himself.

  As Gus joined him, Gertie sauntered in with her nose in the air. Mary rushed in behind her, looking more harried than he’d ever seen her. Gertie slipped into a seat in the corner opposite from him and put on a pout. Mary walked to the front of the church and whispered something to Josh, probably an apology for arriving late. The minister said something back, maybe asking if she needed time to compose herself. When she shook her head, Josh nodded to the fiddler. The musician raised his bow high, then brought it down with a slash that began a storm of beautiful music. J.T. sat riveted, both by the melody and by Mary. When the sharp notes trickled to silence, she began to sing.

  He didn’t pay attention to the words, but the tune matched the one she’d been humming on Wednesday night. The music connected him to her, but he didn’t see the Almighty anywhere in the room. Josh was the same man who’d hired J.T. and got annoyed at crooked nails. His eyes wandered to Bessie and her sister. They were singing the words, but they were still just people.

  Mary finished the song with a long “Amen.” On a signal from Josh, the congregation rose to its feet. J.T. stood out of respect for Mary and Josh, not reverence for God.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Josh said in a full voice. “Let’s pray.” The minister thanked God for the glorious day. J.T. had to agree. The July morning couldn’t have been nicer, but so what? Next Josh prayed for God to bless his sermon. Fine, J.T. thought. He’d listen, but he didn’t expect much.

  After a hearty “Amen,” Josh looked up. “Our next hymn is ‘Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing.’”

  When the fiddler played a run, Mary took a breath. In the same instant, she saw J.T. and paused with surprise. He thought of the dream he had, the one where she was singing on a big stage on a Saturday night—the dream where she sang just for him. The moment matched exactly, except they were in a church instead of a theater. And instead of a flashy dress, she had on the lilac gown she’d worn last week. She didn’t look like a schoolmarm today, and she no longer seemed harried and worn out. She couldn’t have been more beautiful to him. Just like in his dream, she smiled and began to sing.

  J.T. didn’t understand the words about streams of mercy. They made no sense at all, but then he heard a voice coming from the seat next to him. It belonged to Gus, and the boy wasn’t stammering. J.T. looked at him, amazed at the clear tones. Gus couldn’t talk right, but he could sing perfectly. In the boy’s eyes, J.T. saw the innocence of a child and the marks of suffering. He saw himself in those depths. He also saw something that scared him half to death. He saw the goodness Mary saw in him.

  He saw the love of God.

  Had the Almighty just shown Himself? It seemed so, but J.T. couldn’t believe it. A God with any sense would have been spitting fire at a man like him. He wanted to fight with an enemy. Instead he was looking at Gus with a brotherly love he’d never felt before. The boy needed him, but J.T. needed the boy just as much, maybe more. Gus gave him a purpose, a reason to be an honorable man.

  The next words of the hymn made a little more sense. Jesus sought me when a stranger, Wandering from the fold of God. J.T. didn’t know if he’d wandered from God or not. Could a man wander from someone he’d never known? His mother had owned a Bible and she’d read it, but it had been lost when he and his brothers had been tossed out of their meager apartment. He’d never forget that awful day. A minister with droopy eyes had tried to take J.T. to an orphanage, separating him from his brothers because he’d been the youngest. He’d fought and so had his brothers, though later he’d wondered why.

  The stealing had started right away. The fighting got worse and his oldest brother had cut him with a knife. With the blood running down his scrawny chest, J.T. had made a decision. He’d kill before he’d be killed; he’d hurt others before they hurt him. For close to twenty years he’d lived that way with great success, but today he felt like that boy pinned to the hard ground.

  He turned to the front of the room with a scowl. When Mary finished the song, he sat. Josh went to the podium, greeted him with a discreet nod and started talking about love. The minister didn’t dwell on the love of a man for a woman or brotherly love. He’d talked about the love that made a man willing to die for others, to make sacrifices and stay decent even when others weren’t. Because of his feelings for Mary, J.T. felt the truth of every word.

  The truth stopped when Josh got to the part about forgiving his enemies. “We can forgive others because God forgives us,” the minister said.

  J.T. had no desire to forgive his brothers. Why would he? They’d beaten him black and blue. He refocused in time to hear Josh talk about turning the other cheek. No way on earth would J.T. let someone beat him up, or worse, beat up someone he cared about. Hadn’t Josh seen Gus’s black eye? Clearly the man didn’t know how it felt to be held down and kicked in the ribs. When J.T. had refused to steal, his oldest brother had pressed the knife into his shoulder and twisted it until he screamed.

  He’d come to church today to smoke out the Almighty. Instead he’d been introduced to a fool. With his muscles taut, he stopped listening to Josh and stared at Mary, wondering what had happened with Roy and Gertie and what she’d say when he insisted on walking her home. Just as he’d once vowed to hurt others before they hurt him, he made a mental promise to keep Mary and her sister safe from Roy Desmond. If Mary’s God didn’t want the job, J.T. would gladly take it.

  When she finished the opening hymn, Mary sat in the front row with Adie. Could her life be any more complicated? God had created the world in seven days. J.T. had been in Denver for the same amount of time, and her world had gone to pieces. She and Gertie weren’t speaking, and yesterday Caroline had quizzed her about J.T. Mary hadn’t given her th
e details about what had happened in Abilene, but her refusal only added to the air of mystery around him.

  Today she expected the talk to get worse. J.T. had come to church looking both handsome and skeptical. At the end of the sermon, Josh would invite everyone to Swan’s Nest for supper. If he came, her friends would see them together. Good-natured or not, she dreaded the speculation. To end it, she’d be J.T.’s friend today and nothing more.

  Another threat to her secret came from Roy. Three days ago she’d turned down his offer. Instead of accepting her decision graciously, he’d taunted her in a sly tone. Predictably, Gertie had been furious.

  But why! You said—

  I know what I said. I made a mistake. I got carried away. You’re too young.

  It’s because of what J. T. Quinn said, isn’t it? Who is he, anyway? He’s practically a criminal!

  To her shame, Mary had said nothing in J.T.’s defense. He’d acted honorably, but she couldn’t defend him to Gertie. Her sister would ask too many questions…questions Mary didn’t want to answer. She desperately wanted to put Gertie on the next train to New York, so yesterday she’d gone to the bank to borrow money. The banker had turned her down, kindly suggesting that patience was a better investment. If only Gertie had agreed. The girl hadn’t spoken to Mary in two days. She’d come to church this morning, but only because Gus had asked.

  Mary tried to focus on the sermon just as Josh closed his Bible. As expected he invited everyone to Swan’s Nest, then motioned for Mary to come forward for the closing hymn. She sang the same song every week, so the words came easily even though her thoughts remained scattered. After the last note, the crowd broke apart. As men put back the chairs, the women drifted to the refreshment table.

  Mary spotted J.T. and Gus at the back of the room. The boy looked happy, but the man had an angry gleam in his eyes. Gertie was heading for the door, and she looked smug. Mary couldn’t stop her sister, so she approached J.T. and Gus.

  J.T. scowled at her, but Gus smiled. “H-h-h-i!”

  “Hi, there,” she replied. His hair had fallen in his eyes. She itched to smooth it back but stopped herself. J.T. was right. Gus needed to grow up.

  “W-watch this.” He gave Fancy the signal to sit. When the dog obeyed, he fed her a cookie.

  Mary smiled at J.T. Instead of enjoying his dog’s talent, he looked ready to kick a chair across the room. “You don’t look happy,” she said mildly.

  “I’m not.”

  He was glowering when Caroline approached. “I haven’t officially met Mr. Quinn,” she said to Mary. She did not want Caroline asking questions or playing matchmaker. “J.T., this is Miss Caroline Bradley. Caroline, this is Mr. J. T. Quinn.”

  J.T. lost the scowl. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Bradley.”

  “Call me Caroline. I hope you’re coming for supper.”

  J.T. looked peeved. “I don’t think so.”

  “Jake plays a mean jig,” Caroline said with a teasing air. “You should see Mary dance.”

  “I’ve had the pleasure,” he replied. “We were acquainted in Abilene.”

  Mary was the actress, but J.T. delivered the explanation of their past in a perfectly casual tone.

  Caroline smiled at him. “I’d love to hear more about those days. Mary has such a beautiful voice. I bet she was famous.”

  Infamous had been more like it. She traded a look with J.T., one that would have seemed bland to an observer but held all the ties of the past. Please don’t reveal anything. Please keep quiet.

  Looking almost bored, he turned to Caroline. “Mary had quite a career. But like she said, it was a long time ago.”

  Caroline wasn’t appeased. “How did you two meet?”

  Annoyed, Mary cut in. “We met at the theater. That’s all there is to it.”

  “That’s right,” J.T. said mildly.

  Bessie approached from the side. “Good morning, Mr. Quinn. I hope you’ll join us for supper this afternoon.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think—”

  Gus interrupted. “P-p-lease, J.T.? It’ll be f-fun.”

  A week ago her brother had been silent and sullen. Today he had spunk. J.T. shot her a look. He had no desire to go to supper, and he knew his presence would raise questions for her, but he also wanted to please Gus. To keep the talk to a minimum, they needed to appear to be friends. Mary offered a warm smile. “You’re more than welcome, J.T.”

  “All right,” he said. “I accept.”

  Bessie, always a nurse, tipped up Gus’s chin and looked at his black eye. “You’ve got quite a shiner.”

  “Yeah.”

  “How’s the rest of you?”

  “G-g-good.” He wanted to say more but couldn’t.

  J.T. filled in. “Gus is working with me on the new church.”

  When Mary smiled her appreciation at J.T., Caroline saw and got a mischievous look. The woman was an unstoppable matchmaker. Mary could have been angry, but her heart ached for her friend. Of the five women from Swan’s Nest, Caroline had been the most eager to have a family of her own. A young widow, she’d suffered in ways no one else had. No matter what Caroline did, Mary loved her.

  Bessie indicated three men leaning against the wall. “I believe those gentlemen need refreshments, Caroline. Shall we?”

  “I—I—I want more, too,” Gus added.

  “Then let’s get you some.” Caroline motioned to Gus, and the three of them left. Fancy stayed with J.T.

  Frowning, he scratched the dog’s ears. “Sorry about going to supper. I hope it’s not awkward for you.”

  “We can handle it.” We. When had they gone from enemies to allies? Mary didn’t know, but she appreciated his consideration.

  Still looking down, he spoke to his dog. “What do you say, Fancy? Can we handle supper with church folk?”

  When the dog wagged her tail, J.T. chuckled. “I guess so.” He looked back at Mary. “I’ll do my best to keep talk away from Abilene, but Caroline’s determined to find out what happened between us.”

  “I know.” She grimaced. “If you want to back out, I’ll make excuses for you.”

  “Not a chance,” he muttered. “Gus needs to know a man keeps his word.” His tone implied that she needed to know he’d keep his.

  Her brother came back with more cookies. “Wh-where’s Gertie?”

  “She went home.”

  He turned to J.T. “My s-s-sister’s mad.”

  “Yeah, I saw.”

  Mary couldn’t go into details with Gus present, but J.T. deserved to know she’d taken his advice. “I told Roy no for both of us.”

  “I want to hear about it,” he said casually. “I’ll walk you home.”

  She didn’t want to be seen leaving with him. “I wish I could say yes, but—” she indicated the crowd in the room “—well, you know.”

  “Yeah. I understand.” He sounded snide. “I’ll go with Gus. You can deal with Gertie.”

  “That would be nice.”

  The boy grinned. “We can teach Fancy a new trick.”

  Had she imagined Gus’s smooth speech, or had the stammering eased? J.T. looked at him with the same question, then he turned to her. “I’ll see you in a while. Be ready, because I want answers.”

  “You’ll get them.”

  Somehow she had the feeling he was talking about more than her dealings with Roy. He’d come to church today, something she’d never expected. He’d also been gracious to her friends and careful with the past. It was getting harder not to trust this man. With a final nod, she left him and went home to smooth the waters with her sister.

  Chapter Twelve

  J.T. watched Mary pass through the door, silently wishing her luck as she went to check on her sister. He’d seen the girl leave the church, and he’d been struck by the cocky tilt of her chin. Gertie had Mary’s fire but none of her experience. She’d be easy prey for Roy, a thought that filled J.T. with familiar bitterness. He didn’t want Gertie or anyone else to have scars li
ke his own.

  It was a long walk to Swan’s Nest, so he decided to fetch his horse from the livery and ride double with Gus. After he spoke with Mary about Roy, he’d get ready for the camping trip. Yesterday he’d finished the roof except for the bell tower, which required a batch of smaller shingles that had to be cut. Josh had been pleased to hear about the trip with Gus and had offered to loan them fishing poles.

  Until this morning, J.T. had liked the minister, even respected him. While working on the church, Josh was just…Josh. He laughed when other men laughed, and he sympathized with their troubles. That man had preached today, and he’d thrown down some hard words. Halfway through the sermon, J.T. had been so angry he’d stopped listening. “Come on,” he said to Gus. “Let’s get out of here.”

  They were close to the door when Josh blocked their path. “Good to see you, J.T.”

  J.T. scowled. “Reverend Blue.”

  Josh’s lips tipped up. “I wear a preacher’s collar for church, but that’s the only difference from the rest of the week. I’m still Josh. Do you have a minute?”

  “Nope.” He turned to leave, but the minister gripped his arm. No one stopped J.T. from leaving, and he indicated that fact to the good Reverend Blue with a steely look. “What do you want?”

  Josh released his arm. “A minute of your time.”

  “What for?”

  “You started snarling halfway through the sermon. I want to know why.”

  J.T. put a hand over his heart. “You gave a fine sermon, reverend. It was downright glorious, chock-full of sweetness and light. I was blessed indeed to hear you talk about turning the other cheek.”

  Josh raised one eyebrow. “You’re good at sarcasm.”

  J.T. said nothing.

  “There’s more to this message,” Josh said in a firm tone. “Next Sunday we’re going to talk about when it’s right to fight. I suspect you know something about that.”

  “I do.”

  “Good,” he said. “Come back. You can tell me if I’m getting it right.”