The Outlaw's Return

by Victoria Bylin

  “You don’t have to.”

  “Tell that to Gus,” he said drily. “He accused me of not being a gentleman.”

  She gave J.T. a sympathetic look and then took his hand and climbed into the buggy. He motioned for Fancy Girl to jump in next to her and then walked around the rig and joined her, the seat squeaking with his weight. He took the reins, and off they went.

  One mile of silence.

  Two miles of silence.

  Three miles of silence. Fancy Girl leaned against Mary, pushing her into J.T.’s ribs. If he’d put his arm around her, they’d have been as close as they’d been in Abilene. Instead, he kept his spine rigid, and so did she. The silence troubled her even more than the kiss. They couldn’t be in love, but she wanted to be his friend. She was close to bursting when he shifted his boots and their feet touched. When he didn’t pull back, neither did she. The touch wasn’t the conversation she wanted to have, but it was a start.

  “Any word on Gertie?” he finally asked.

  “I haven’t seen her.” She stared down the empty road. “If I don’t hear from her soon, I’m going to visit her.”

  “We need to get her to New York.”

  “I wish I could.”

  His eyes glinted with the toughness she recalled from Abilene. “Give me a few days.”

  That was all he said until they arrived at the café. He unloaded Gus’s things, then he and the boy cleaned the guns they used, including a .22 rifle he gave to Gus to keep. They talked about bullets and whatnot until J.T. left to return the buggy to Swan’s Nest with Fancy Girl riding next to him.

  As he rode off, Mary wondered if his plan to get the money for Gertie included a turn at a faro table. He knew how she felt about gambling, so she said nothing. The decision to gamble belonged to J.T. The choice to refuse the money was hers, and that’s what she intended to do.

  At Swan’s Nest J.T. cared for his horses and put up the buggy. No one pestered him, so he finished fast and went straight to Sixteenth Street in search of a faro parlor. He’d earn that money for Gertie and he’d do it tonight. He knew Mary objected to gambling, but he hoped she’d take the winnings for Gertie’s sake. After today’s craziness, he felt more compelled than ever to keep his promise. With his saddlebag over his shoulder—the bag with his clothes and all his money—he pushed through the door to a gaming hall called the Bull’s Eye.

  “This won’t take long, girl,” he said to Fancy.

  He had his whole stake with him. With a little luck, he’d triple it in an hour…

  Two hours later, he walked out the same door shaking his head. He’d never had such awful luck. The dealer hadn’t minded Fancy Girl at all, especially once J.T. started losing. To make up for the losses, he’d upped his bets. He’d quit before he lost everything, but he had less than half of what he’d started with.

  The run of bad luck made him mad. Being mad re minded him of Mary and how she’d kissed him and backed away. What did she want from him, anyway? Whatever it was, he didn’t have it to give. With his saddlebag lighter, he headed to the boardinghouse and went to his room. Leaving the door wide to catch the light in the hall, he dropped the saddlebag on the floor and lit the lamp. Once it flared, he shut the door and locked it.

  Fancy headed for a corner she never used, dropped down and looked at him with sad brown eyes.

  “I know.” He grumbled. “I made a fool of myself.”

  Thoroughly annoyed, he plopped down on the bed. Faro dealers were notorious cheats, and J.T. was rusty. He considered trying a different faro parlor, but he didn’t want to leave Fancy Girl alone. Trapped and too angry to sleep, he wedged a pillow against the wall and sat up on the bed. He needed something to do. Even a button to sew would have been a distraction. Something to read would have been better, even a stupid dime novel.

  Desperate, he glanced around the room and saw the chapbook on the nightstand. He blinked and was on the white stone bench in Josh’s garden. If he didn’t fill his mind with something, he’d end up in that alley in New York, on his back and feeling his brother’s knife. Even with the light on, the room felt small and tight. Needing to escape—in his mind, since he couldn’t leave Fancy—he opened the chapbook. His thumb pointed to a single sentence. And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not.

  J.T. knew the power of darkness. He knew how it felt to be trapped by it, caught between walls and rendered helpless and blind. It was light that befuddled him. He didn’t understand where it came from, but he could see it. He’d seen the light in the way Fancy Girl loved him. He’d seen the light in Gus, too. Today he’d seen the brightest light of all in Mary. She’d taken back the kiss, but not before she’d come willingly into his arms. The light, he realized, was love. Not only had he seen the light…he’d felt it. He loved Fancy Girl and Gus. He loved Mary most of all, and today he could believe she loved him back.

  Him, J. T. Quinn, a killer by trade and a gambler by choice. A man who’d spilled blood and enjoyed it. Mary cared for him. How could that be? He read more of the little book, comprehending just enough to know that he wanted to know more. He didn’t understand most of what he read, but Mary did. The light lived in her. More than anything, he wanted to feel the brightness for the rest of their lives. He’d do anything to earn that privilege, but how? What did he have to do? A thought came out of the blue, and he smiled. Tomorrow Mary would get a surprise.

  J.T. set down the book. As he turned down the lamp, Fancy Girl jumped on the bed and curled against his leg. With his hand on her belly, he thought about puppies and cobbler, kisses, love, cheating faro dealers and the strange twists of a hard day.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Where are the aprons?” said a male voice.

  Mary turned from the stove and saw J.T. and Fancy Girl both looking at her with concern. She’d been racing around the kitchen, and her cheeks were flushed. The waitress she’d hired to replace Gertie hadn’t shown up, and Enid was complaining loudly. And the train had arrived early, filling the café with hungry patrons. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “I’m your new dishwasher.”

  “You’re what?”

  “I’m washing dishes for you.” He cast a wary eye at a tub full of dirty plates. “You need help. Here I am.”

  She didn’t know everything he was thinking, but she recognized his effort as a peace offering for yesterday’s quarrel. As much as she needed help, she worried about his commitment to finishing the church. “Isn’t Josh expecting you?”

  “Not today.”

  She smiled at him. “In that case, the job’s yours. In fact, I’m grateful. The aprons are next to the pantry.”

  Fancy found a comfortable corner, and J.T. went to the row of hooks with kitchen apparel. He selected a white bibbed apron, tied the strings over his gun belt and went to work on a stack of greasy plates. Between the sizzling bacon and the clatter of dishes, Mary thought about yesterday. The kiss had to be forgotten, but she needed to talk to him about earning the money for Gertie. Yesterday she’d let him leave without speaking her mind. This morning she felt compelled to bring up the matter.

  She spoke to him from the stove while flipping hotcakes. “We need to talk about Gertie and New York.”

  When he didn’t reply, she looked over her shoulder. Not many men could wear an apron tied in a bow and still be menacing. Somehow J.T. looked as if he were commanding the dishes to wash themselves. Mary wished she could control Gertie with that kind of authority, but her sister would have stared back.

  She added a rasher of bacon to a pan. “I want to be sure you know, I won’t take new gambling money.”

  He still didn’t respond.

  “It wouldn’t be right,” she insisted. “I’d feel—”

  “You don’t have to worry,” he said, almost growling at her. “I lost my shirt at the Bull’s Eye. I won’t be going back.”

  “Oh, dear.” She felt both bad for him and relieved. “How much did you lose?”

 
; “A lot.”

  She didn’t want to embarrass him, but she needed to understand. “Are you washing dishes because you need the job? I’ll pay you.”

  He faced her with a dripping plate in one hand, a rag in the other and a stare that would have made a wolf cower. “I’m not doing this for money.”

  “I just thought—”

  “I didn’t lose everything.” He plunged the plate in the soapy water. “I failed you, Mary. I didn’t get drunk, but I gambled and lost half of what I had. Instead of getting Gertie to New York, I made things worse.”

  “No, you didn’t.” His method had been all wrong, but she couldn’t ignore his good intentions. She saw the losing streak as a blessing and smiled. “The way I see it, I got a dishwasher out of the deal.” She winked at him for fun. “A handsome one at that.”

  His brows snapped together. “Don’t tease me.”

  She turned red.

  “I like it too much,” he muttered. “And losing’s no fun.”

  “I’m sorry.” She should have considered his pride. “It was thoughtless of me, but I’m not sorry you had a bad night at faro. Winning would have hurt you more than it would have helped Gertie.”

  He shook his head. “I feel like a fool.”

  She crossed the room and stood in front of him, clasping his biceps as she looked up. “You made a mistake, Jonah. It’ll be okay.”

  His hands, dry but still warm from the water, came to rest on her waist. Neither of them took the kiss dangling between them. It hung like hard, green fruit, full of promise but far from ripe. With her eyes bright, she kissed his cheek and went back to the stove.

  “Mary?”

  She looked over shoulder. “Yes?”

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “Understanding.” Silent again, he dipped a plate into the rinse water.

  For the next two hours, they worked as a team with Enid serving, Gus clearing tables and Fancy Girl getting scraps from Gus. When the last customer left, Mary began scraping grease from the stove. Gus came up behind her. “G-Gertie’s here.”

  The stove could wait. She reached around her back to untie the apron. “I’ll be right there.”

  Gus paused. “Sh-she’s with th-that man.”

  Mary wanted to lock Gertie upstairs and give Roy a piece of her mind, but the strings had turned into a knot. Before she could untie it, J.T. had removed his own apron and wadded it into a ball. “You’re not going out there alone.”

  “But—”

  “The four of us need to have a civilized conversation,” he said amiably. He looked at Gus. “Take Fancy Girl upstairs.”

  “Sure.”

  The boy left with the dog, and Mary spoke briefly to Enid. The waitress promised to bring a friend to help serve lunch and went out the back door.

  J.T. indicated the entry to the dining hall. “Shall we?”

  “Certainly.”

  She stepped into the room with J.T. behind her. Gertie’s eyes widened at the sight of him, but it was Roy’s expression that told a story. He clenched his jaw, then put on a smile. The surprise gave Mary an advantage, and she intended to keep it by being hospitable. She crossed the room as if she’d been expecting them and greeted Gertie with a hug.

  “Shall we sit?” she said graciously.

  Gertie feigned a dignified nod. Roy looked less agree able, but he helped the girl with her chair. J.T. seated Mary next to Gertie, then pulled out a chair for himself.

  Mary smiled a bit too cheerfully. “I’m done serving breakfast, but I can offer coffee or tea?”

  Gertie squirmed, then shared a glance with Roy that sent bolts of fury down Mary’s spine. She did not want her sister trading secretive looks with Roy. She shot a look of her own at J.T. He seemed completely at ease, except that he was drilling Roy with his eyes.

  The theater manager cleared his throat. “Gertie asked me to call on you today, Mary. She says you’re worried about her joining my theater troupe, that you think she’ll grow up too fast. I can assure you, I’ll treat her like my own daughter.”

  He’d said the right words, but his dark eyes had no life. How could she have trusted this man?

  Gertie smiled at him gratefully and then faced Mary. “There’s no reason for me to go to New York. Roy’s been so kind, and I’m learning from the other actresses. I want you to be happy for me.”

  Mary knew her sister. Gertie would rebel if she spoke her mind, but neither could Mary offer the approval the girl wanted. She had to tell the truth. “I will always love you, Gertie.”

  “I know, but—”

  Mary shook her head. “There are no ‘buts’ when it comes to family. I want you to go to New York. It’s just a question of when.”

  Gertie pulled back from Mary and faced Roy. “I told you she wouldn’t understand.”

  “But I do,” Mary countered.

  “So do I,” J.T. added.

  Glaring at him, Gertie took a hankie from her reticule and dabbed at her moist brow. Mary didn’t recognize the fine linen and wondered if Roy had given it to her. The theater manager looked pointedly at J.T., then took the girl’s hand. “It’ll be fine, Gertie. I promise.”

  Mary wanted to give Roy a piece of her mind, but J.T. looked as cool as January. It was easy to imagine him killing Roy in cold blood, a thought that horrified her. If he harmed Gertie, she’d want justice to be served but only by the law. She turned to her sister. “I care about you. You know I want what’s best for you.”

  Gertie sniffed.

  Roy pushed to his feet. “I think it’s time we left.”

  J.T. stood but said nothing. Gertie rose more slowly and so did Mary. She wanted to hug her sister, but the girl paced to the door. Mary followed, vaguely aware of Roy saying something to J.T. Gertie left without a goodbye, her shoes tapping angrily on the boardwalk.

  Roy followed her, stopping in front of Mary and leaning too close. “Take the role, and I’ll leave your sister alone.”

  “How dare you!” she hissed. “She’s a child!”

  “She’s old enough. Just remember, you can change your mind anytime you want.”

  “I won’t.”

  An ugly smirk curled on his lips. “It would be a shame to have word get out about your sordid past. I wonder what little Gertie would think about you and J. T. Quinn?”

  An actress at heart, Mary feigned disinterest. “That’s old news, Roy. No one cares but you.”

  “I doubt that.” Looking smug, he walked out the door.

  Mary wanted to throw a plate. “The nerve of that man!”

  J.T. had stayed at the table, and he stood there now with a look of cold disdain. How could he be so calm? Mary wanted to drag Gertie home by her hair. Instead she massaged her temples. When she remembered Roy had spoken to J.T., she stopped rubbing at the headache and looked up. “What did he say to you?”

  “He wants to talk to me alone.”

  “About what?”

  “I’ll find out tonight. We’re meeting during the show.”

  “At the theater?”

  “His office,” he replied.

  She hated giving Roy an advantage, even a territorial one. “I want to go with you.”

  He lowered his chin. “No.”

  “But—”

  “He’s a snake, Mary. You go near him, and he’ll bite you.”

  “But he’s got my sister.” If she told Gertie everything—her own secret and what J.T. had said—maybe the girl would listen. It was her last resort.

  He crossed the room and stood nose to nose with her. “If you go near that theater, I’ll throw you over my shoulder and carry you home.”

  He was teasing, sort of. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “I’d dare, all right.” The playfulness left his eyes. “Whatever it takes to keep you away from Roy, I’ll do it.”

  She felt the weight of his words, the caring in them. She trusted J.T. with Gus and Gertie, even her own life, but her heart was another matter. “You’re
right,” she murmured. “I won’t go near the Newcastle.”

  Stepping back, he indicated the weapon that never left his hip. “My gun is staying right here. If Roy harms you or Gertie, I’ll use it.”

  Mary abhorred violence, but she valued his protection. “If you fire that thing at Roy in self-defense, I might not mind. But I hope you don’t have to.”

  “Me, too.”

  His answer surprised her. In Abilene he’d been quick to shed blood. “Do you mean that?”

  “I do.” His mouth leveled into a line. “I’m tired of fighting, but that doesn’t mean I can stop.”

  “Why not?”

  He shook his head. “A man’s reputation stays with him.”

  So did a woman’s. Mary knew that fact well. “I made a fresh start. So can you.”

  “Not with men like Griff Lassen after me.” He looked more tense than ever. “It’ll be a long time before they all forget I’m alive.”

  Mary had the same problem. People would talk about the Abilene scandal as long as someone would listen. “I understand. It’s why I’m so careful with my reputation.”

  His jaw muscles tensed. “If anyone pesters you, they’ll regret it.”

  He’d always been protective of her. “Thank you.”

  “The same goes for Gertie. If Roy touches her, he’ll pay.”

  Mary believed in justice, not cold-blooded killing, but she’d be as quick as J.T. to protect Gertie. “Let’s hope nothing happens to her.”

  He got down to business. “Tonight I’ll hear what Roy has to say. I have a feeling something happened we don’t know about.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “He came here to bargain with us. That means he’s not getting what he needs from Gertie. You didn’t give in, and we know he needs money for his so-called investors. Now he wants to talk to me.” J.T.’s eyes took on an amused light. “Since I can’t sing a lick, there’s got to be another angle.”