The Outlaws: Sam

by Ten Talents Press

  Sam headed over to the grocery store, where he bought tinned food, flour, sugar, salt, bacon, coffee and other mainstay items. Sam thought the clerk acted mighty strange when he'd placed his order, and he seemed relieved when Sam paid in cash. Puzzled at the man's skittishness, Sam left Denison.

  An hour later the posse arrived, having tracked Sam back to town. The grocery clerk ran out to meet them, his arms churning excitedly.

  "He was here, Sheriff," the clerk shouted. "The outlaw you're looking for. He can't be more than an hour ahead of you."

  "Are you sure?" Hale asked.

  "Yep, it was him, all right. I recognized him from his last trip to town. He bought trail food. I can even tell you in what direction he went."

  "Don't keep us in suspense," Cramer ground out. "We're wasting time."

  "West. He rode West."

  "Let's go boys," Hale said, kneeing his mount.

  Sam's stomach felt as if it were touching his backbone and he stopped beside a creek a few miles outside of town to eat. What he really needed was coffee. Thick, black and a lot of it. He gathered wood and started a fire, hoping it wouldn't rain before the coffee was made. Using water from the creek, Sam filled his battered pot, measured out the coffee and set it on the fire to boil. Then he decided that bacon would taste mighty good so he cut a few slices and placed them in a skillet he'd retrieved from his saddlebags. Sam's mouth watered as the smell of bacon and coffee wafted through the damp air.

  After his breakfast was cooked, Sam fished in his saddlebags for hardtack and sat down to enjoy his meal. He chewed slowly and thoughtfully, his mind returning to those blissfully satisfying hours he'd spent in Lacey's bed. She moved him a way he'd never been moved before. She was the mother of his son.

  His son.

  A smile stretched his lips. He was proud as hell to claim a son like Andy. And mad as hell at Lacey's lack of conscience. She should have told him immediately instead of letting him believe Andy was the illegitimate product of an affair with another man. That a child would result from their infrequent couplings had never entered Sam's mind. He wasn't stupid, he should have realized that it only took one time to make a baby. He supposed he just wanted to think the worst of Lacey.

  Sam finished his meal and gathered up his gear. He scoured out the frying pan and coffeepot with sand and rinsed them in the creek. Then he packed everything away and mounted Gallahad. The sound of pounding hooves caught his attention. Moments later riders appeared in the distance. He had no idea who they were or what they wanted, but they looked to be in a big hurry...and headed in his direction.

  Sam was torn. His gut told him the riders meant trouble. Trouble he laid at Lacey's door. Lacey had made good her threat and summoned the sheriff. What a damn fool he'd been to divulge his secret to her. She'd proved untrustworthy once, what made him think she could be trusted now? It appeared he had made the biggest mistake of his life for if he wasn't mistaken, he was being pursued by a posse.

  Sam's gut feeling was right on target. Seconds before he dug his spurs into Gallahad's hide, shots rang out. The posse was hard on his heels and coming fast. Sam hung low in the saddle as bullets whizzed by him. He saw an outcropping of boulders off to the right and swung around in that direction.

  Sam didn't shoot back or defend himself. He didn't want killing added to his record. His only hope was to lose himself amidst the boulders and trees before the posse reached him. Then the unexpected happened. A lucky shot found Sam. It lodged in his right shoulder and nearly sent him toppling from the saddle. Pure tenacity kept him from falling.

  Adrenaline pumped through him as he approached the boulders and reined Gallahad sharply into the maze of huge rocks. Pain speared through him. He was losing blood and beginning to feel lightheaded. He didn't believe his wound was life-threatening, but the loss of blood could kill him if it wasn't stemmed. He dashed away the sweat pouring from beneath his hat and concentrated on losing the posse.

  Through a haze of red, Sam spied a narrow opening between two boulders. The posse was behind him; for the moment he was out of sight, but not for long. Sam's mind was fuzzy but still working. The narrow cave was a long shot but it offered a slim chance of escape, but only if he acted quickly. Sam jerked on the reins, urging Gallahad into the dark crevice. Gallahad leaped through, and then they were inside. Sam yanked Gallahad to a stop and slid from the saddle, barely conscious.

  Sam heard the thunder of hooves and placed a hand over Gallahad's muzzle. The posse rode the boulders without giving it a second glance. Unable to stand, Sam dropped down to the ground to wait. Either they'd return to look for him or plunge into the forest beyond the boulders, thinking he was still ahead of them.

  Sam rested his head against a rock. It was dark and cool inside. He wanted to close his eyes, to let blessed sleep take away the pain. But he had to stay alert. The posse could return any minute. During his flight he had glanced over his shoulder a time or two at his pursuers and had recognized Cramer. If Cramer was part of the posse, Sam knew he didn't stand a chance if he were caught. He'd be hung from the nearest tree before he could prove his innocence.

  Weak from loss of blood, Sam's intentions to remain alert dissolved as he slid effortlessly into unconsciousness.

  Chapter Nine

  Lacey was a nervous wreck. By early evening she'd had no news about Sam from either the sheriff or Taylor Cramer. For all she knew they had found Sam and strung him up without a trial. She was sure that's what Taylor would be urging the sheriff to do.

  Lacey had lost count of the times Andy had asked if she thought Sam had been captured by the posse. Throughout the day, Andy had maintained his confidence that Sam would be able to explain the mistake to the sheriff's satisfaction. Lacey wasn't so sure. What if Sam had been lying to her about his innocence? It was all so confusing.

  Lacey and Andy finished their supper that night and spent time together before Lacey tucked her son in bed. She read him a story and returned to the parlor. Rita had already left for the night so she settled down with a book and tried to read. But she couldn't concentrate. Her book lay in her lap forgotten as her thoughts returned to the previous night, when she had awakened and found Sam in her bedroom.

  Sam had appeared to accept her explanation of what had happened six years ago. He had even confided his secret to her. Then he had made love to her, and for a time everything was forgotten but her love for this man and how he made her feel. It was true, she realized. She did love Sam, had never stopped loving him. But whether or not he had committed a crime, he was still an outlaw and could offer her and Andy nothing in the way of security.

  Lacey had been willing to marry Taylor to gain security for her son, that's why she hadn't told Sam that he was Andy's father. Besides, Sam had shown no interest in her for six long years. He had let her believe him dead, which was a despicable thing to do. She still wouldn't have known he was alive had fate not taken a hand and brought them together.

  A knock on the door released Lacey from her ruminations. She stared at the door a moment, then rose to answer it. For caution's sake, she called through the door before opening it.

  "Who's there?"

  "Taylor Cramer. Open up, Lacey."

  Taylor! Had the posse returned? She flung open the door and Cramer stepped inside. "What happened? Did you find Sam?"

  Cramer walked to the parlor and flung himself down into a chair. His clothing was dusty and he looked out of sorts. "The bastard got away. Don't know how we missed him. Had him in our sights for all but a few minutes. He just up and disappeared." Suddenly Cramer grinned. "One of our bullets got him, though."

  "Sam is wounded?" Lacey choked out.

  "Didn't you hear a word I said?"

  "Of course. Sam got away. He could be hurt badly."

  "I hope so. The posse is still out there. They're going to search one more day before giving up. But I've had enough. I had more important matters to take care of. Have you signed the divorce document?"

  "Not yet. I haven't
even taken it out of the drawer."

  "Get it. I'll take it back to town with me after you sign it."

  Lacey dragged her feet to the writing table. She had no idea why she had put this off. She and Andy needed Taylor to survive. But she couldn't forget Sam's last words to her. He threatened to take Andy away from her if she divorced him. But Lacey was smart enough to know that wasn't about to happen. Sam was on the run. He didn't dare show up in Denison or anywhere near the ranch if he wanted to remain free.

  "The document is right here," Lacey said as she opened the drawer and felt inside for it. Her hand came away empty. "It's gone!"

  Cramer leapt from his chair so quickly it nearly overturned. "What do you mean it's gone?"

  "Just that. The document is not where I left it."

  "You must have moved it."

  "No, I haven't touched it." Her brow wrinkled. "You don't suppose Sam..."

  Nothing more was needed for Cramer to grasp her meaning. "Gentry!" His curses turned the air blue. "Did you mention the divorce document to him?"

  Lacey bit her lip, thinking back to their encounter. "I...might have mentioned it."

  "He took it! Everything I've worked so hard for is gone. The only thing I can hope for now is that Gentry is dead. Unless," he added with sly innuendo, "you change your mind and sell the ranch to me."

  Lacey stiffened. She had no intention of selling. She'd promised Uncle Hob on his deathbed that she wouldn't sell out, that she would make every effort to keep the ranch for Andy. She hadn't run out of ways to save it yet.

  "No, I can't sell the ranch to you, Taylor. I promised Uncle Hob I'd keep it for Andy. If we can't marry, perhaps I'll reapply for a loan. If the Bank of Denison refuses, I'll go to Fort Worth and apply."

  Cramer scowled, then a slow smile curved his lips, as if something had just occurred to him. "Maybe all is not lost. Gentry deserted you. That in itself is grounds for annulment. Never fear, my dear, I won't be defeated. We will marry."

  He bid her good-bye and made a hasty exit.

  Lacey stared at the closed door long after he left. She knew instinctively that Sam had taken the divorce document. He'd said he wouldn't let her divorce him and she should have realized he'd find a way to stop her, or at the very least slow down the process. Lacey didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Perhaps she would lose the ranch, and that was sad, but on the other hand, maybe Sam had done her a favor by stealing the divorce document, and that made her smile. Once she had been convinced that marrying Taylor was the best thing for her and Andy, now she wasn't sure. If worse came to worse, she could always sell out to Taylor.

  Sam came to his senses slowly. His body was racked with pain, his head was spinning and his eyes blurred. And he was so thirsty his tongue was attached to the roof of his mouth. For a moment he didn't know where he was. It was dark and cool and he felt no urgency to leave, but something he couldn't quite grasp dangled just out of his reach. He tried to concentrate but the pain was too intense. A movement nearby caught his attention and he turned his head. He saw Gallahad with his reins dragging and immediately recalled where he was and why. The posse, a shot, pain. He'd been wounded trying to outrun the posse and had sought refuge...where?

  It was dark. Too dark to see, but memory was slowly returning. He remembered riding into a crevice between two boulders and sitting on the ground to wait for fate to decide his future. He must have passed out. He moved and was immediately sorry. Dizziness assailed him, but he forced himself to concentrate. Grasping Gallahad's reins, he crawled to the opening and peered out. He saw the moon and stars and nothing else. The soulful baying of a wolf was the only sound he heard. Either the posse had given up or they were still out there somewhere, waiting for him to expose himself.

  Sam realized he could die if he didn't leave his hiding place and seek help for his wound, and he had too much to live for. He had just discovered he had a son and he wanted to watch Andy grow up. Sam knew the odds were stacked against him, but miracles did happen.

  Grasping Gallahad's reins, Sam crawled out of the shallow cave into the black night. He tried to stand. His legs buckled beneath him and he grabbed the saddle to keep from falling. After a moment the world stopped spinning and Sam managed to drag himself onto Gallahad's back. He dropped the reins but the effort to retrieve was beyond him. He managed to wrap his arms around Gallahad's thick neck before sliding into oblivion.

  Gallahad walked at a sedate pace, as if mindful of his master's sorry state. Mauve streaks were turning the sky from black to gray when the stout-hearted animal stopped. Sam slid from the saddle and lay unmoving on the dusty ground.

  A crowd gathered around Sam's limp form. He was poked and prodded, but nothing stirred him. A young woman pushed through the crowd and stared down at him.

  "Is he dead?" the woman asked in a language Sam wouldn't have understood had he been awake.

  "He lives, Yellow Bird, but his wounds are grave. Do you wish to cure the white-eyes? He has been shot and left unattended too long. He may be beyond your help."

  Yellow Bird stared at the white man. He looked to be a fine warrior, even more impressive than her brother, Chief Running Buffalo. It would be a great shame to let him die when she had the skill to save him. Despite her youth, Yellow Bird was a skilled medicine woman, highly respected by her people.

  "We are a peaceful people, brother," Yellow Bird said. "We have lived in peace with the white-eyes many years, unlike our war-like Apache brothers. We trade them furs for cooking pots and blankets. I will heal the white-eyes. Carry him to my tipi."

  Running Buffalo and another brave carried Sam to Yellow Bird's tipi. They placed him on a sleeping mat and left. Yellow Bird set to work immediately. Thirty minutes later she had skillfully removed the bullet from Sam's shoulder, packed the wound with a mixture of wet moss and herbs to draw out infection, and placed a bandage over it. Then she sat back on her heels to wait.

  Throughout the day and long night she spooned an infusion of special herbs known to replenish the body after a substantial loss of blood and fight fever into his mouth. She wiped the sweat from his brow and bathed his body with cool water.

  Sam regained his wits two days after his arrival at Running Buffalo's camp. The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was the golden brown face and dark, enigmatic eyes of a lovely young Indian woman.

  "How do you feel?" the woman asked in halting English.

  "Where am I? Who are you?"

  "I am Yellow Bird. Your horse carried you to the camp of Running Buffalo."

  "You saved my life," Sam rasped in a voice he scarcely recognized.

  "I removed the bullet and treated you with a poultice of herbs. You are still feverish and far from well. Many suns will pass before you are strong enough to leave your mat."

  "I sincerely thank you, Yellow Bird. Is Running Buffalo your husband?"

  "He is my brother. I have no husband."

  Sam thought it best not to pursue the subject. "Then I must thank Running Buffalo for allowing you to treat me. Not many Indian tribes are friendly with white men these days."

  Yellow Bird smiled. "We are a peaceful tribe, and go about our business of eking out a living from the forest and the earth. We have no wish to join our militant brothers to the north."

  "Thank God for that," Sam said, sighing wearily.

  "What are you called?" Yellow Bird asked.

  "My name is Sam. Sam Gentry."

  "Sam," Yellow Bird said, rolling his name around on her tongue experimentally. "Rest now, Sam. Later you will be given food and drink."

  Sam didn't respond. He had already fallen asleep.

  Back at the ranch, Lacey waited anxiously for word of Sam. Had he escaped? Did he lie wounded or dead somewhere in a desolate area where no one could find him? All kinds of horrible scenarios passed before he eyes, none of them comforting.

  A week after the posse lost Sam in the Texas wilderness, Taylor Cramer arrived at the ranch with the news that Sam Gentry had probably died from his wou
nd and the buzzards had claimed his body.

  Lacey stared at Cramer in disbelief. "Not again. Oh, no. I was too quick in believing Sam dead once and it won't happen again. I won't accept Sam's death until I see his body."

  Cramer muttered something beneath his breath that Lacey couldn't hear. "What did you say?"

  Cramer gave her an fawning smile. "I expected no less from you. I've solved one of our problem, however. I've asked my lawyer to draw up annulment papers to present to the judge. I'll bring them out for your signature soon. Don't worry about the judge not granting the annulment. I know Judge Anderson personally and I guarantee his compliance."

  "Taylor...perhaps we should wait. This doesn't seem the right time to..."

  "It's the perfect time, my dear," Cramer cut in. "Dead or alive, I doubt Sam Gentry will bother you again. If he does, he'll find a jail cell awaiting him."

  "Andy is dead set against our marriage," Lacey hedged. "I thought marrying you was the right thing to do, but now I'm not so sure. I...don't love you like I should."

  Cramer gave a bark of laughter. "I know you're marrying me to save the ranch. I've known that all along."

  "And that's all right with you?"

  "Of course." He gave her an insincere smile. "I care for you enough for both of us."

  The way he said it made Lacey more doubtful than ever. "Sometimes I think you care about my land more than you care about me."

  "Are you questioning my feelings?" Cramer challenged.

  "No, I...there's still Andy to deal with."

  "Leave Andy to me. He'll come around once we're married. You're too soft on the boy."

  Suddenly Lacey realized that Sam had been right about Taylor. He would be a terrible father to Andy. She loved her son too much to condemn him to spending his informative years with a stepfather who couldn't stand him.