Gambling on the Outlaw

by Margaret Madigan

  “But, I thought…”

  The confusion in her eyes hurt, and what I did next hurt her even more, no matter how much it needed to be done, for both our sakes.

  “You thought wrong. It was nice enough, but not worth pursuing. I’ve got a job to do and you’re nothing but a distraction from it. Now, go on back to the house.”

  I didn’t know what to expect from her, but instead of weeping, which I suppose I expected, her eyes hardened and she crossed her arms over her chest, but she didn’t say a word as she stared at me. Her gaze could have burned a hole into my soul. But I didn’t flinch, just took it and stood firm.

  After a moment she harumphed and turned to leave the barn, and that’s when we both noticed Lydia standing in the yard staring in our direction with a disapproving frown on her face. She shifted that scornful gaze from me to Beth, then back again, and then tossed her skirts, spun on her heel, and marched for the house.

  Beth grinned. “We’re in deep shit now.”

  ~Beth~

  I would never understand men as long as I lived. First Isaac kissed me so thoroughly that I thought my very bones would melt, and then he told me to get along, I wasn’t worth pursuing.

  Not that I understood myself. What in the hell had I been thinking? I’d gone out to apologize to him for our behavior at supper, and ended up doing exactly what I’d convinced myself I shouldn’t. Good intentions made no difference when I got one look at him. He’d looked rugged and smelled of a man hard at work, just like Daisy had said, and that made me wonder what he tasted like. Like a fool, my good sense traipsed along behind my heart and body like a loyal, trusting puppy.

  I shook my head, unable to believe the levels of my own stupidity.

  In the meantime, I had Lydia to deal with, which would require more finesse than I felt at the moment. I stomped across the yard, but paused at the door she’d just slammed behind her, so I could take a calming breath. I stepped inside and waited for the onslaught. I didn’t have to wait long.

  “What in God’s precious name do you think you’re doing?” Lydia asked before I even had the door shut. “That man is a criminal.” She pointed her finger toward the barn as she spoke, as if I’d confuse Isaac with some other man.

  “Lydia, calm down.”

  “I will not.”

  “What’s going on?” Daisy asked from her chaise where it looked like she was mending a dress.

  “I just went out to find Beth, to ask her if she planned on going to town tomorrow and offer to ride with her, but when I got out to the barn, I found her kissing that man.”

  “Ha! I knew it,” Daisy said, leaving her mending in a messy pile and joining us in the kitchen. “Good for you,” she said, slapping me on the shoulder.

  “Don’t encourage her,” Lydia said, distraught. “He’s nothing but trouble. He’s a wanted man. He needs to leave.”

  “He’ll be gone soon enough. Let Beth have some fun. She hasn’t had a man in her life for a while, and if you ask me, at least one of us should have that luxury,” Daisy said.

  Lydia gave Daisy a withering gaze, then turned to me. “Exactly when will he be gone?” she asked.

  “Well, we never actually got around to that conversation,” I said. I thought I’d managed to apologize to him, though given the turn of events and how they’d muddled my thinking, I couldn’t be sure. I’d never actually brought up the subject of his plans.

  Lydia threw her hands up in the air. “I didn’t take you as the brazen type, Beth. You’re strong and practical. You don’t lose your head over a man.”

  That wasn’t entirely true. I’d lost my head over Frank. So lost that I’d given up everything to be with him, and until I met Isaac, I would have agreed with Lydia that I didn’t see myself ever losing my head again. But I was dangerously close now. Lucky for me he’d lost interest and would be on his way soon enough.

  “I suppose you just don’t know me as well as you thought. But rest assured, Lydia, I have not lost my head over Isaac Collins. It may have appeared that way from your perspective, but it’s just not the case. And he will be gone shortly.”

  She glared at me, her fists planted firmly on her hips, clearly not convinced. Looking at it from her point of view, catching me wrapped around Isaac, kissing him the way I had, she couldn’t help but be worried. When I’d found her all alone in Carson City, timid and frightened as a bird with a broken wing, I understood how fragile she was and since I’d brought her home she’d thrived in our little family. In her eyes, Isaac posed a threat. He’d either bring the law down on us, or he’d break up our family by taking me away.

  I didn’t see Isaac as a threat, per se. He wouldn’t personally do anything to harm us, but I had to admit that his being here was a different story. Realistically, he couldn’t stay given his outlaw status. The risk was too high, and because my family and their safety was my primary concern, I couldn’t afford to lose my head over him.

  Once again, Lydia was my lifeline back to a clear, practical mind.

  “He’s a wanted man, Beth.”

  Daisy laughed out loud. “He may be wanted, but he’s not guilty of the crime. You should be more worried about Sheriff Dawson and Clay Dearborn wandering around armed and free. They’re more dangerous than Mr. Collins.”

  “You asked him about his crimes?”

  “We did,” Daisy said.

  “He claims his innocence?”

  “Yes,” I said. “He had nothing to do with the stage robbery or the murders. He’s been framed, but has no hope of proving himself innocent.”

  She appeared to consider this new information, and I hoped it would calm her down.

  “That may or may not be true. You only have his word. Even if he’s innocent of this crime, what else could he have done?” she finally said. “When it comes down to it, his guilt or innocence is a moot point. The important thing is that he’s wanted and if he’s found here, we’ll be in deep trouble for harboring a fugitive.”

  “I’ll talk to him tomorrow morning,” I said.

  “Try to do more talking this time and less kissing,” Lydia said, as she headed for her room to turn in for the night.

  I smiled at Daisy, who grinned ear to ear and struggled to muffle her giggles.

  “I’ll do my best,” I said.

  Lydia turned at her bedroom door, her face a mask of worry and distress. “Please do,” she said, then closed the door softly behind her.

  …

  The next morning Lydia prepared her lunch bucket in pained silence. She didn’t say anything when she left for the day, just collected her bonnet, shawl, and books and walked out the door. I spared a moment of concern for her. She’d never shared in any detail how she’d ended up abandoned and alone in Carson City, and I hadn’t asked, assuming she’d tell us if and when she chose. We all had secrets, and I didn’t know all the details of Daisy’s or Nellie’s life, either. It didn’t matter, as long as we had each other. But now, I wondered about Lydia and hoped she’d trust me.

  The rest of us went about our chores as usual, and when I went to the barn to collect eggs I found Isaac outside repairing a section of fence. He saw me heading for the barn, but when I changed direction so I could talk to him, he just tipped his hat and went back to work, effectively dismissing me. Apparently I was on everybody’s list of people to avoid today.

  He’d made it clear he didn’t want me, and the smart part of me thanked him for that. The witless part of me still wanted him.

  I ignored him and marched into the barn to collect eggs, then marched back out to put them in the house.

  When I went outside later to tend the garden, he was tightening the wheels on the buckboard, but refused to look at me, no matter how many times I glanced in his direction.

  I spent the better part of the morning finding excuses to go outside, but no matter where I went or what I did, he was the picture of determined focus.

  By noontime, I’d worked myself into a muddled mess. I knew he couldn’t stay because it
was too dangerous, but I was still drawn to him as surely as I’d ever been drawn to Frank. But I’d had enough of his game of ignoring me. I could accept he didn’t want me in the Biblical sense, or in any other sense, but the least he could do was have the common decency to acknowledge my presence and speak to me as he would any other stranger he met.

  As far as I knew he hadn’t eaten anything yet, so I prepared him a plate of cold food left over from supper the previous night and took it out to him in the yard. At that point he’d moved on to chopping wood, and I had to admit after all he’d accomplished in a day, it was nice having a man around to handle some of the more challenging chores.

  “Isaac,” I said when he ignored my approach, even when I stood mere feet away.

  “Ma’am,” he said, still not meeting my eyes.

  Ma’am?

  If he meant to make me angry, he was well on his way to success. But despite my obvious ill temper, he maintained a calm distance, as if he hadn’t kissed me last night like a man thirsty for affection. Try as I might, though, I saw no evidence of that man standing in front of me.

  “Would you stop this infernal nonsense?”

  “What nonsense is that?”

  He slung the ax over his shoulder as casual as could be and I just glared at him. I thought that maybe a hint of humor flashed in his eyes for a brief moment, but it was quick enough that I couldn’t be sure I’d seen it at all.

  He glanced down at the plate of food, then back up at my eyes. I’d forgotten I held it in my effort to ruffle his composure, but now I remembered my pretense for approaching him.

  “I suppose you’re hungry,” I said, shoving the plate at him.

  “Thank you kindly, ma’am. I am at that.”

  I’d be lying if I said his dismissal didn’t hurt. Certainly he was a handsome man and my hands itched to touch him again, but I also felt a connection with him, whether because of our mutual dislike of Clay Dearborn, or because we were both outsiders, I didn’t quite know yet. All I knew was that I liked him and it hurt that he’d teased me but didn’t return my feelings.

  I turned to head back to the house, and had managed a few steps before I turned back.

  “Thank you for the things you’ve done around the place. I appreciate your help.”

  “My pleasure, ma’am.”

  “Stop calling me ‘ma’am,’” I said, my voice very nearly a growl.

  “I can’t do that. It reminds me to keep my distance.”

  My silly heart melted. “You need to be reminded?”

  “We both know I can’t stay, no matter what either of us wants.”

  I nodded. If things were different, I thought he’d be a perfect addition to our family. “What are you going to do?”

  He shrugged a shoulder. “Not sure. Take another go at Dearborn. I don’t expect to survive it, but it’s better than just waiting for them to hang me.”

  “You could leave. Go somewhere else and start over.”

  “I could, but I’d always be looking over my shoulder. The stage line wants my head, too. Once the word spreads along the line, and through the families and friends of the murdered passengers, I imagine all kinds of bounties will be offered. I won’t be safe anywhere.”

  “There’s always somewhere safe.”

  “Won’t matter much if I die going after Dearborn.”

  “If you don’t die, you’re always welcome here.”

  Before he could respond, he heard something and his attention shot to the trail behind me. It was only a heartbeat later I heard it, too—hoofbeats, and riding hard.

  Our eyes met and we both knew exactly what those hoofbeats meant, and all pretense was gone between us as we hurried into the barn.

  “I can hide,” he said. “While they’re talking to you, I’ll run. They won’t see me.”

  “No. They’ll catch you if you run.”

  “Why do you care if they catch me? I’m nothing but an outlaw.”

  “You shouldn’t be. You were an outsider in the wrong place at the wrong time, and that cost you. You’re like me and the girls. You don’t belong anywhere else.”

  He cocked his head, and gave me a look that let me know I’d hit the mark. I understood him. Too bad the circumstances were all wrong.

  “Take Boreas,” I said. “He’s fast and sturdy.”

  I rushed to get Boreas saddled while murmuring to the horse that he should behave and be good for Isaac.

  “I can’t take your horse, Beth. He’s too valuable.”

  “I’ll be damned if I’ll be responsible for those men catching you on my property if I can do anything to prevent it. Now get on this horse and get out of here.”

  He stepped up and took the reins. “Thank you. I’ll get him back to you somehow.” He kissed me quickly before he mounted the horse and gave Boreas his heels, disappearing out of the barn at a gallop.

  I watched as he headed north and his dust trail faded into the distance. When I was sure he was safely away, I spun to watch the approaching dust cloud that would be another posse. Hurrying into the house, I had only moments to warn Daisy and Nellie.

  I threw the door open and startled them both.

  “The posse’s back.”

  Daisy shot up out of her chair, ready for a fight.

  “Where’s Isaac? Do we have time to hide him?

  “I sent him off on Boreas. He’s got a head start, but we need to stall the posse to give him more time.”

  “Boreas is a good horse,” Nellie offered, baby Shiye sleeping in her arms. “He’ll stay ahead of the sheriff’s men.”

  It warmed my heart the girls didn’t even question my decision to help Isaac escape. We’d put in the effort to save his life, maybe it just made sense to continue to protect him. Maybe he’d grown on all of us and earned himself a spot in our little family. Whatever the reason, I was glad for their support.

  “Still, we need to buy him time.”

  By now we heard the thunder of hooves in the yard, so I led the way outside to meet the posse.

  Out in the yard, Sheriff Dawson, Clay Dearborn, Robert Summers, a couple of other men I recognized from town, and one man I didn’t recognize, pulled their horses to a halt in front of us, but they all kept to their saddles.

  “Where is he, Beth?” Clay asked, spitting the words as if they were accusations.

  I considered telling Clay that Isaac had been here with my blessing, that he’d told me his story and I believed him, and that I’d kissed him and liked it more than I could ever imagine liking Clay’s touch. I considered defying the sheriff and telling him he could arrest me and interrogate me, and I’d never crack.

  But I’d never be any help to Isaac, or my friends, from jail. Not to mention that no matter how forcefully I defended Isaac, it would make no difference to the men who already planned to kill him. As I watched the men in my yard, who all had that glassy glint in their eyes that meant they’d scented blood and were eager to be on the hunt for it, I knew I needed to do whatever I could to help Isaac, even if he didn’t want me to.

  So I schooled my features into the face of a woman relieved that help had arrived.

  “He left about an hour ago. Headed southwest into the Sierra foothills.”

  “What was he doing here in the first place?” Clay asked. “He’s a wanted man, Beth. How could you harbor him?”

  “We didn’t harbor him. He showed up injured. We didn’t even know who he was at first, so we did the good and decent thing and offered him our assistance.”

  “He killed the people on that stage, including my brother. He almost killed me.”

  “I don’t believe he did,” I said, and bit my tongue to keep from saying I was sorry Isaac hadn’t succeeded at killing Clay.

  “Convinced you he’s innocent, did he? Did you really think he’d admit to it? He’s a killer, Beth. As a hired gun, he did it for years. Would have been second nature to kill all those folks.”

  That gave me pause. I wondered if Clay was right that Isaac had be
en a hired gun in the past, or if he was just slinging bullshit. It didn’t much matter. As long as Isaac wasn’t a hired gun now, I didn’t care about his past.

  “It’s not my job to decide if he’s guilty or innocent. That’s for a judge and jury to decide.”

  “He killed my brother, robbed the stage, and held you hostage. He needs to pay,” Clay said.

  “Now you’re the judge and jury?”

  “The judge and jury will find him guilty because he is,” Clay spat.

  “I suppose, it’s a good thing that teacher friend of Beth’s had the sense to tell us he was here,” Sheriff Dawson drawled.

  Clay nodded. “Probably saved your lives,” he said to me.

  My breath caught in my chest. He had to be lying. Lydia wouldn’t betray me like that. She wouldn’t sacrifice an innocent man.

  “Come on, men,” Dawson said. “He’s only got an hour lead, and he doesn’t know we’re after him. We can catch him by suppertime.”

  They wheeled their horses and headed off at a gallop before I could breathe again. I tried to think, to force my thoughts into some kind of order now that the men had left.

  I’d sent Isaac off with nothing but my horse. It was my fault the posse was after him. I trusted Lydia had accepted my rationale for protecting Isaac, when I should have been sure. I should have taken the time to talk to her. It was my responsibility, and I’d failed, and now Isaac would pay for it. I had to find him before the posse did, get him some supplies, and help him however I could.

  I spun on my heel and headed back inside the house to pack my saddlebags.

  “What in God’s name are you doing?” Daisy asked.

  “I’m going after him.”

  “Why?” Nellie asked.

  “Because he needs my help. He left without food or water or weapons or any supplies.”

  “Aren’t we better off now that he’s gone?” Nellie asked.

  “Maybe,” Daisy said. “At least the posse didn’t find him here. That would have brought us all kinds of trouble. But I doubt they believed we didn’t invite him to stay.”