The Preacher's Outlaw Bride

by Mildred Colvin

  She jerked away from him and turned back.

  He shook his head. She was a determined little thing. He snagged her before she reached the boardwalk and hoisted her over his shoulder. “Now settle down, and I’ll get you to safety.”

  She kicked and beat his back something fierce, but Michael lugged the squirming woman across the dirt street and into Melanie’s Diner. “Melanie!” He called toward the back. “Can you help me here?”

  “What’ve you done, Reverend?” Melanie hustled past the empty tables to the front. She chuckled. “I’ve heard tell the cavemen used to catch their women and bring them home thatta way. But this ain’t your cave and our modern laws might not uphold this kind of marriage vow.”

  The little spitfire on Michael’s shoulder twisted and yelled out. “Let me go.”

  He set her down. “Fine, at least you’re out of danger as long as you stay in— Hey, get back here.” She was like a jack rabbit at the end of his gun site.

  She jerked the door open before he could catch her.

  “Miss, you can’t go out there. You’ll get shot.” Michael rushed out and grabbed her at the edge of the boardwalk. Was she crazy? He had her now, and he was determined she wouldn’t get away again.

  The bank door opened and one of the robbers burst through. The man ran halfway across the street toward the diner, yelling something that sounded like, “Cody.”

  The crazy girl strained against Michael’s hold. “No. Don’t worry about me. The sheriff’s coming. I’m sorry. You’ve got to go.”

  The outlaw glared at Michael. “You better not hurt her.”

  When the second outlaw ran out of the bank, the girl yelled with her hands cupping her mouth. “I’m okay. The sheriff’s coming. Go.”

  The other man nodded and yelled at the first one. They both ran for the horses waiting at the hitching rail and jumped on them. They were getting away. Where was Clint? A shot rang out and the two men took off.

  Michael pulled the woman back into the diner, releasing an appealing scent of lilacs. What was he doing rescuing an outlaw’s woman? She didn’t look it in her fancy clothes, but she must be with them.

  “Help me, Mike.” Her large chocolate eyes shimmered with tears and melted his heart. “That’s my papa and my brother. Please, Mike, stop the sheriff from shooting them. Don’t let him kill them.”

  He looked down into his past and lost all sense of reason. His mind flew backward across the years to the first time those beautiful brown eyes implored him. She was an orphan like him, homeless on the streets of New York City. She’d looked up at him with those same pleading eyes and said, “Please, make ’em stop hurtin’ me.”

  She was only seven years old then. The prettiest little girl he’d ever seen.

  The realization of who she was punched him in the gut. “Andy?” He cleared his throat. “KodyAnne. Is it you?”

  She nodded and another tear fell.

  His mind churned as what little sense he had disappeared. He clenched his jaw. “All right. I’ll do what I can. You stay here.”

  He turned to where Melanie stood watching. “Don’t let her outside.”

  Michael pushed the door open and stepped out where no sane man would go. Bullets flew from one end of the street to the other, sending everyone else ducking for cover. He strode forward as a gun barked. An answering bullet whined over his head. He dropped to the street and searched for Clint. There he was, sheltered by the corner of a parked wagon. He needed to circle around, come up behind him.

  Smoke puffed from Clint’s gun and a man cried out.

  Michael turned to see one of the men clutch his chest and fall from his horse while the other galloped away.

  A woman screamed, and KodyAnne ran past. “Papa!”

  He wasn’t close enough to catch her.

  She lifted her skirt above her ankles and ran down the boardwalk then jumped over the side and took off down the street, yelling, “Papa, no.”

  The outlaw lay where he’d fallen. Michael ran toward KodyAnne. His fingers brushed her shoulder, but she jerked from him so he held only air. She fell to the ground beside the outlaw and took his hand in hers. Michael crouched beside her, ready to shield her from danger.

  “Oh, Papa, why?” She sobbed into their clasped hands.

  The outlaw’s eyes opened. Love for his daughter shone from his expression, reassuring Michael. At least KodyAnne had known a father’s love.

  “Hey, little Kody, don’t cry. Here, take my other hand. I’ll be all right.” His words were comforting, but his voice lacked strength.

  KodyAnne took his hand in hers as a message seemed to pass between them. “No, Papa, no.” She squeezed his hand, laid it on his chest, then opened her purse and rummaged in it as if looking for a handkerchief.

  “What’s going on here?” The sheriff spoke behind them. “I need to take this man in. Ma’am, I’ll need to question you as well.”

  “No, you can’t take him. He needs a doctor.” KodyAnne snapped her purse closed and turned to glare at the lawman. “You shot him, and he didn’t even rob the bank. I saw he didn’t take anything out. All he wanted was his box. Ask the banker. He’ll tell you.”

  “I’m sorry, Miss. If you’ll step aside, I’ll see that the doctor takes care of him. Let me do my job. If there’s a misunderstanding, we’ll set it right.”

  Fury blazed in her eyes a split second before she sprang to her feet and attacked the sheriff with her fists flying. “You shot him. You can’t take a bullet back. You can’t.”

  Michael had to give Clint credit. He took her abuse without slapping her in jail like he could’ve done. Quite a crowd had gathered. Some of the men threw out taunts to the sheriff to lock the little spitfire up. The women cackled to each other in shocked tones.

  Michael ignored them. KodyAnne was his responsibility even when she shouldn’t be. Had been since he rescued her the first time. He curled his fingers around either side of her shoulders and pulled her against him so the back of her head tucked under his chin. Clint stepped back at the same time, and her attack ended.

  Michael spoke into her ear. “What’s done is done. No one can undo anything, but your pa needs help. Let’s step aside so they can get him to Doc Harper.”

  The tension left her body, and a tremble took its place. He pulled her to the side out of the way of the men who were lifting the outlaw from the dirt. Someone had retrieved a stretcher. Four men draped the injured man on it and carried him across the street to the first building on the corner past the boardwalk. The Harpers lived there above the clinic.

  With his arm around KodyAnne’s tiny waist, Michael led her across the street behind the stretcher. He’d stepped into a dream. The ordinary day he awoke to had taken a strange turn. He’d never really forgotten KodyAnne, but as the years passed, he’d thought about her less and less. Never in a million years would he have thought she’d pop up before him and fall into his arms.

  Only, this wasn’t his little KodyAnne. The memory he’d held over the years had never grown past eight years old. KodyAnne, the way she was that day they’d boarded the Orphan Train to come west, had shiny, dark ringlets held back from her face with a wide, blue ribbon. She’d worn a blue dress with white stockings and black shoes.

  The woman, who felt so at home on his arm now, wore a purple dress that had probably cost a week’s wages. Or part of a day’s take. That thought twisted his gut. The ringlets were smoothed out and done up in some fancy do at the back of her head. The ribbon had been changed into a purple felt hat adorned with clear glass beads and a couple of feathers. A tendril of dark hair blew about her face, enticing him to brush it aside so he could feel her smooth-appearing cheek.

  He looked away. Escorting her to the doctor was enough temptation for one day. He still couldn’t believe this beautiful woman was the little girl he’d married in that silly, childish ceremony. The marriage wasn’t real. They’d both known that, but in her childish heart, his promise to find her had been. Only he’d failed
her there.

  It’s him, Papa. It’s my husband. Her words at the bank hit him full force, and his hand on her back jerked. She didn’t seem to notice. Did she think she had a claim to him even now? No, she wouldn’t hold him to something that happened when they were children.

  They followed the stretcher into the clinic. Doc Harper motioned for the men to go through a door to one side. “Let’s put him in here, boys.”

  KodyAnne turned to Michael and reached on her tiptoes to place a kiss on his cheek just like she’d done when they were kids. His heart melted same as it had then. Only this time the insane urge to see what a real kiss with KodyAnne would be like overtook his senses.

  Her fingers tightened around his arm. Her eyes sought his, and he almost stepped forward again. Her lips curved into the sweetest smile he’d seen in a long time, and she flashed those big, dark eyes at him. “Thank you, Mike. You’ve always been my hero. You’re the best husband a girl could ever ask for.”

  He took a quick step back. Her words had saved him from making a fool of himself.

  She turned and hurried through the door after her father before he had the sense to tell her he wasn’t her husband. Not that she’d have listened, anyway. He touched his cheek, remembering the warmth of her lips same as he’d felt that last day at the orphanage. His whole world had tilted on its axis and would never straighten again.

  Chapter 2

  “Ease him over gently, boys.” The doctor’s voice soothed KodyAnne’s troubled heart.

  She stood to the side and watched as the men lifted Papa from the stretcher to the examining table.

  “Don’t know why we need to be careful.” One of the men grumbled. “Savin’ him for a hangin’ the way I see it.”

  KodyAnne’s gasp brought the doctor’s glance. “Thank you for your help.” He spoke to the men and waved a hand at them. “You go on now and let me work.” His gaze under bushy eyebrows pierced hers. “You, too, young lady. This is no place for you.”

  A woman took KodyAnne’s arm and guided her toward the door. “You can wait in the sitting room. We’ll let you see your father as soon as possible. I’m Mrs. Harper, the doctor’s wife. I’ll be assisting him, and I promise we’ll do our best.”

  KodyAnne nodded, then pulled free and rushed to her father’s side. “Will he be all right?”

  “Can’t rightly say.” The doctor dipped his hands into a bowl and scrubbed them clean with soap. He rinsed, then lifted them with a gentle shake. His eyes held concern as they met hers. “We’ll fix what we can, though. I promise you that. You go on now and let us work.”

  “Papa, I love you.” KodyAnne’s words brought a twitch to her father’s lips, but he didn’t speak or open his eyes.

  Mrs. Harper led her to the door, and she went willingly. She needed Michael. He stood as she stepped into the waiting room, and the door clicked shut. She swung around to stare at the barrier to Papa. How had this happened? Was she to blame? Michael’s touch, warm against her sleeve, broke through to her sorrow. She leaned toward him with wobbly legs turned weak. He led her across the floor to seats against the wall.

  “Where’d everyone go?” She sank into a chair. Seeing him, knowing he was here with her, brought back a surge of strength.

  “Deputy cleared them out.” He sat beside her. “Didn’t figure your father needed the noise.”

  Oh my, she could fill her eyes with this grown-up Mike and never get tired of the image. His dark hair was shorter than before, but she liked it that way. His eyes were still the bluest blue she’d ever seen. And his smile. Why, it set her heart to pounding. She closed her eyes and relished the feeling. She’d never had such a reaction when they were kids. In fact she’d never felt this way ever.

  ~*~

  “KodyAnne, are you all right?” Michael crossed his arms to keep from touching her. What was going on in her mind? She’d looked at him, closed her eyes, and smiled. “What did the doctor tell you? Is your father going to come through this?”

  Her smile vanished, and she turned away. The room seemed to darken as if a cloud covered the sun. She mumbled something he didn’t catch.

  “What did you say?”

  When she turned back toward him, her eyes begged for answers. “Is it my fault he got shot? What will I do if he dies?”

  “Would you like for me to pray with you?” Michael thought of his mom and dad. They’d taught him right from wrong with a lot of prayer and loving guidance. He couldn’t imagine any other way. He didn’t like to think of the life KodyAnne had lived. Her family obviously loved her, but what had they taught her to believe? Or not believe? He waited for her answer.

  She interlaced her fingers in her lap and pulled them apart before looking up at him again. She nodded and held out one hand. He took it without thinking. The spark that leapt between their joined hands didn’t surprise him. They’d always had a connection. Time apart hadn’t changed that. Knowing who she was brought it back to life. He held one small hand palm to palm with his and covered the back with his other hand. She was so small. So tiny. A protective instinct rushed through his heart.

  He bowed his head. “Heavenly Father, we come to you in our time of need. We pray You’ll touch KodyAnne’s father with Your healing power and give the doctor wisdom and skill to care for him. Amen.”

  They sat in silence. KodyAnne didn’t pull away, and Michael didn’t mind. He loved the feel of her delicate hand captured between his, and he didn’t want to let go. Yet for that very reason he needed to. With a resigned sigh, he released her.

  She looked up as if searching out the reason for his withdrawal. Huge tears rose in her eyes and slid down her cheeks.”

  “I’m so sorry. If Papa dies, it will be my fault because I screamed when I saw you.”

  Michael shook his head. “It isn’t your fault. You didn’t do anything.”

  She wiped her tears. “I was so surprised. Now Papa . . .”

  When her eyes again brimmed, he frowned. If she kept crying, he’d be lost. He wanted to take her into his arms and hold her until the hurt went away, but he couldn’t. As the pastor of Willow Spring’s Community Church he needed to set a good example. Holding an outlaw’s daughter in a public place could easily be construed as improper behavior.

  She whispered. “It’s my fault.”

  Michael touched her hand. “You didn’t do anything to cause this. Your father knew the risk in robbing a bank. Surely he didn’t think he could just walk in and point a gun without causing an uproar.”

  A stubborn look covered her face. She pulled from him and crossed her arms. “He wouldn’t have if they’d let him have his box. It’s that bank president’s fault. Why’d he do that? It’s Papa’s box.”

  Michael shook his head. “Looked to me like he was robbing the bank. He pulled a gun on Mr. Grimes because . . .” Michael stared at her. “What box?”

  KodyAnne turned toward him. “Uncle Mark’s box. So Papa made the mistake of pulling his gun. He wouldn’t have used it.”

  ~*~

  The outside door opened. KodyAnne looked up when Sheriff Barnett stepped in. “Hey, Mike, thanks for keeping her in here. I’ve got Dan posted outside so the vultures won’t push their way in. Figured I’d better get to the bottom of this before anyone is accused of more than they did.”

  KodyAnne rolled her eyes. About time he realized Papa hadn’t done anything wrong.

  Michael shifted in his chair. “She says they didn’t rob the bank. Didn’t even go in for that purpose. Sounds like a misunderstanding to me.”

  The sheriff shrugged and pulled a chair around where he could sit facing KodyAnne. “Miss, I’d like to ask you a few questions. Do you feel up to talking to me?”

  KodyAnne folded her arms. “What do you think? You shot my father.”

  He nodded. “I’m sorry. My intention was to wound him to keep him from getting away.”

  “Why?” She glared at the sheriff. “He didn’t do anything wrong. That box is his.”

  Tears gat
hered in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Michael touched her hand, easing her worry and warming her heart. She shouldn’t feel that way. He was a stranger to her. They hadn’t seen each other since she was eight years old and he was eleven. A lifetime ago.

  “So you, your father, and your brother went into the bank to get into your father’s safety deposit box?” Sheriff Barnett’s question pulled her from the concern on Michael’s face.

  “Yes.”

  “Then your father is Mark Delmont?” The sheriff’s gaze locked on KodyAnne.

  “Of course not.” KodyAnne frowned. “His name is Jedidiah Delmont. Uncle Mark died a month ago.”

  The sheriff’s eyebrows rose. “Is that so? Yet your father gave his name as Mark Delmont when he asked to see his box?”

  “I know.” KodyAnne bowed her head. “I don’t know why he did that. The box is in Uncle Mark’s name. He probably thought that stuffy old bank president wouldn’t have let him see it if he’d told him the truth. But he should have, right? Uncle Mark gave it to Papa, so surely you’ll agree with me that it’s his box. Isn’t that right?”

  “Yet when he asked for proof he was Mark Delmont, your father and brother pulled guns and attempted to rob the bank. True?” The sheriff fixed a stern look on KodyAnne.

  She let out a big sigh. Sometimes men who felt too important could be so annoying and rude. “I asked you a question first. Actually two. Aren’t you going to answer?”

  Michael grinned.

  The sheriff’s lips twitched, and his face relaxed. “All right, I suppose that’s fair. No, Mr. Grimes would not have given access to anyone except the rightful owner, which was why he asked for identification. As for the box belonging to your father, I really can’t say. I’d think he needs to prove that in a court of law.”

  “How many honest lawyers do you know, Sheriff?” KodyAnne looked him in the eyes. “You don’t have to answer that question since you probably don’t know any. My grandfather, who was Uncle Mark’s twin brother, owned a big store in Independence, Missouri, back when everyone was going to Oregon. Grandpa did a lot of business, but Mama and Papa wanted to farm so they homesteaded here in Kansas. First, Grandma Carolina passed away, then a few years later Grandpa Matthew. Papa should’ve inherited the store, but he didn’t get anything. You know why?”