Almost an Outlaw

by Patricia Preston

  Austin dismounted. Frank shook his hand and Cole greeted him with a slap on the back. “Bob.” Cole spoke to his kid brother, Robert Younger, who, at twenty, was the youngest member of the gang. Bob had been a little boy during the war, and seeing him grown reminded Austin of how fast time had passed. “Take Austin’s horse down to the creek for a drink and find Jim.”

  Darcy remained mounted and smiled at the men. “I’ll leave you boys to your reunion.”

  “Darcy, wait.” Jesse hopped off the porch. For the first time, Austin noticed Darcy’s resemblance to Jesse. They both had upturned noses and high cheekbones. “I want to surprise Ma with a new hat for the wedding.”

  Darcy smiled. “I have a lovely hat that would be perfect for her. I’ll see she gets it.”

  “We were told you wanted to see us.” Frank spoke directly to Austin. He was not one to dally around about anything.

  Austin was also direct. “I’m looking for Billy Wise and a horse he stole from me. A black mare with a white star on her forehead.”

  He heard Darcy gasp as if someone had shoved a knife in her.

  Jesse gave his head a disgusted shake. “Billy Wise is not a God-fearing man.” The son of a minister, Jesse lived by his own code of righteousness. “I don’t hold with his kind.” He gave Cole a pointed look as if to say if anyone would know about sinners like Billy Wise, it would be Coleman Younger.

  Throwing an annoyed glance toward Jesse, Cole spoke up. “I haven’t seen Billy.”

  “He headed this way,” Austin replied, explaining how he’d tracked Billy to Missouri. “When he was working for me, he talked about how he wanted to ride with you boys.”

  Once again, Frank got straight to the point. “You want us to string him up for you if we run across him?”

  “No. I want you to send for me. I’m staying at the Croft Hotel and I’m not leaving until I find my mare. Midnight Dancer is a pedigreed quarter horse and I paid a fortune for her.”

  “Exactly how much is she worth?” Darcy asked with a hitch in her voice.

  “To me, she’s priceless.” What could he say? He loved the horse. “She’s not for sale, but if I decided to sell her, I wouldn’t take less than a thousand dollars.”

  “A thousand dollars!” Darcy looked as if she might faint.

  “I’ll be—” Cole stopped just short of swearing in front of a lady. “That must be one fine horse, Austin.”

  “I paid for her bloodline. Her colts will be sold before they are even born,” he told Cole.

  “What if you don’t find her?” Darcy asked.

  “I will find her. Come hell or high water,” he added and Cole slapped him on the back.

  “I pity Billy Wise.” Cole chuckled.

  Darcy lifted the reins to her horse. “I do have to go,” she announced abruptly. “I just remembered I have a couple of dress fittings to do this afternoon.”

  Austin didn’t watch her ride away for fear the longing would show in his gaze. There were some things a man needed to keep private from his friends.

  “I need a favor,” Cole said to him. The tall outlaw dug a money clip out of his pocket. “There was a girl killed the other night. Molly Slater. She worked for Miss Luellen.”

  “I know,” Austin replied and he explained that he had seen her body, along with the senseless note the killer had left behind. “You have any ideas who’d do something like that?”

  “No, but I’d sure love to get my hands on him.” Cole handed Austin several bills. “I want you to give this to the undertaker to pay for Molly’s funeral. You tell him to get her a fancy headstone. One with an angel on it.”

  “All right.” Austin pocketed the money.

  “And if you hear of any suspects, you let me know.”

  Jesse turned to Austin. “Come,” he motioned. “Let’s go inside and have some coffee.”

  None of the others followed. This was to be a private meeting, and Austin had some idea of what was going to be discussed as he followed Jesse into the cabin. At the small table, Jesse poured two cups of coffee. Austin waited. He would have felt much more comfortable with Cole and Frank, both of whom were his age. They had a long history together, but he had none with Frank’s kid brother, who was known to have a dangerous, unpredictable side. Austin kept one of his hands on his thigh, near his gun. Just in case.

  “You know, long before I ever left the farm, you were a legend. All us kids wanted to be you.” Jesse grinned. “I even heard Quantrill say that he was glad you were fighting on our side.”

  “It just so happened that we all had the same enemy. There was no politics involved in my fight,” Austin pointed out. He had never been a legitimate officer in the Southern or the Northern army. He had been a young freelance crusader who rode under a black flag, avenging his mother’s murder.

  “You were a hero to all of us, including me. People still think highly of you. Men whisper your name in awe and they tell their sons about you.” Jesse leaned across the small table as he made a solicitation. “They would welcome you back home. I would welcome you back.”

  “I don’t live by the gun now, Dingus,” he said, using Jesse’s old nickname. There was no reason for him to consider becoming an outlaw. His ranch provided him with a good income. His quarter horses and thoroughbreds were known for their quality and demand for his horses grew every day. “I gave my word to Marshal Hannon years ago I’d stay on the right side of the law. We both know a man is only as good as his word.”

  “A man’s word is his honor.” Jesse conceded gracefully. “But if things ever change—”

  “Things won’t change.” His tone left no room for discussion.

  “I can respect that.” Jesse drank his coffee and smiled. “I do want to invite you to my wedding Friday night. It would be an honor to have you in attendance, Captain.”

  “You’re getting married?” Frank’s kid brother never failed to amaze him.

  “I am. Zee is the love of my life and I can’t leave here without her.”

  Oddly enough, Austin felt as if he understood. “You are going to settle down?” He couldn’t believe the country’s most famous outlaw was going to take up married life.

  “After the wedding, we’re going to stay with Susan for a while,” he said, referring to his sister who lived in Texas. “Frank and I have talked about moving to Nashville. We both like the town and it’d be a good place for a fresh start. We can’t stay here. It’s too dangerous. Allan Pinkerton hates us and wants us dead. The railroad men and the governor want us dead.” He frowned. “I worry about my family as well.”

  Austin finished his coffee and leaned back in the chair. “I think you’re doing the right thing by leaving here.” He was glad that Jesse recognized the growing danger to his loved ones and his allies, but he doubted the outlaw would be content with an ordinary life.

  Doss was right about fame. It was powerful and seductive.

  Since she was riding alone and no one could hear, Darcy let out a few frustrated curses. “Damn Billy Wise!” She wished she could get her hands on him. That lying weasel had sold her a stolen horse. In turn, she had used that stolen horse to make a dream come true for Matt, who had never had a horse or much of anything else for that matter. How could she take the horse away from him?

  She couldn’t do that. Perhaps she could pay Austin for the horse. A thousand dollars! She didn’t have that kind of money readily available. She had invested everything she had in her shop. Besides a small savings account, she did have some jewelry Stephen had given her that she could sell. Perhaps Austin would let her make monthly payments for the next ten years.

  Her worry over how to pay for the horse fled when she saw a rider ahead. A squirrel raced up a tree as if fleeing from danger and she heard the song of a mockingbird cease. The man turned his white horse crossways in the road, blocking her path.

  She tried not to fidget in her saddle as she brought her mount to a halt. Hackles rose along her spine. He had deep, angry lines in his face and sharp chee
kbones. His hooded, dark eyes were unfriendly as if they never looked at anything kindly. The leather duster he wore hung open to reveal pistols strapped on both sides of his waist. His left hand lay on his left thigh and the open duster concealed his right hand.

  “May I pass?” She spoke as casually as she could manage and hoped the tremor she felt within was not too evident.

  “Mrs. Branson.” He called her by name. The surprise left her speechless. “Yes, I know your name. I know all about you and your family.” He spoke in a high voice that was eerily beautiful and almost ethereal. “Know thy prey. That has always been my first rule of business. What great hunter doesn’t know the nature of his game? I always do my research.”

  “Sir, let me pass,” she ordered, trying to sound a great deal bolder than she felt.

  “Did you know the Pinkertons don’t even have an accurate description of your cousins? They have been unable to obtain any reliable information from the local people. The Boys have been embraced by their family and friends. Even the press, for that matter. They have the best armor in the world.”

  “I’m assuming you are not a Pinkerton,” she said as her mind worked furiously to come up with an escape plan.

  “Name’s Gabriel Wallace, ma’am.” He tipped his hat with his left hand.

  “Mister Wallace, I am running late. I have people waiting at my shop.”

  “There was no one waiting for you when you slipped out of town this morning.”

  She backed her mare up, considering her options. The only way to escape was through the woods. If she could make it into the woods, she could double back to Wolf Creek. Her chest tightened as adrenaline pumped through her body. The brush was heavy on either side of the dirt road. Vaulting into it would be punishing on both her and the mare.

  “He’s not here to save you, dressmaker.”

  She straightened in the saddle as that comment grabbed her attention.

  Wallace continued in his lovely voice. “Your newfound admirer. The one they called the White Comanche. He saved you a long time ago but not now.”

  Fury replaced her fear. She went for the carbine in her saddle holster. Her hand never even touched the stock of the rifle. She screamed as Wallace wielded a keen leather whip that landed with precision across her right wrist, cutting through her kidskin glove. She grabbed her burning wrist.

  “That’s what you get for being foolish,” he said smugly as he rode forward, stopping his horse beside hers. He was close, close enough so she could see the prominent veins in his wide forehead and the shadows beneath his dark eyes. “I am named after the archangel, Gabriel. He was the messenger of God.”

  She gripped the reins to her mare, preparing to make a run for it.

  “I have a message for your cousins and for all those who protect them.” His voice changed to a thundering baritone. “It’s from the Book of Revelation, Chapter 6, Verse 8. ‘And I looked. And behold a pale horse, and his name that sat upon him was Death, and Hell followed with him.’”

  Ignoring her bleeding wrist, she gave her horse a kick. The mare charged forward, running at full gallop while Darcy hung on tight. She fully expected to be hit by a bullet at any second. Much to her surprise, there was no bullet forthcoming as she headed toward town, riding harder than she had ever ridden in her life.

  Gabriel Wallace watched the young widow disappear around the bend and he smiled to himself. Know thy prey. His prey might be outlaws but they were also gentleman. Their code of honor went back centuries, to the time of knights who took up the defense of women without question. Once the frightened widow delivered his message, he knew they would they would be coming for him. They would have no choice. The dark verse contained its own significance. They would know he had taken the life of Cole’s favorite whore and they would assume he might kill again. He had accosted their cousin, whom he could have easily killed. Who would be next? Their sisters? Their sweethearts? They would not take any chances.

  The Boys would be on the hunt for him.

  All he had to do was lie in wait.

  Chapter Six

  At dusk, Austin rode back into town. He noticed the dark clouds gathering against the western horizon. In this part of the country, spring ushered in unpredictable weather. It was unseasonably warm. No doubt there was a storm over the plains and it was coming this way.

  He shed his duster after he boarded his horse at the livery and carried the coat over his shoulder as he headed for the hotel restaurant. After devouring a quick dinner, he went upstairs to his room, ready to call it an evening. He entered the dark room, hung his coat beside the door and yawned as he stretched his arms.

  “Austin—”

  He jerked around, startled by the sound of Darcy’s voice. He saw a shadowy figure sitting in the armchair by the window. He lit the lamp on the dresser and turned the wick up to illuminate the room. He wanted to make sure he wasn’t hearing and seeing things. She was there, much to his surprise, sitting in the armchair. As always she was dressed properly in black silk, but this time she wore her hair down and tied back with a white ribbon. Her cheeks were white, void of their usual blush.

  “Darcy?” He softened his tone as he approached her. “Are you all right?”

  She glanced up at him. “Oh, yes. Of course. I’m fine,” she said but he wasn’t convinced. Her voice sounded too hollow.

  “What are you doing here?”

  She tapped her hands in her lap. “I have been waiting for you.”

  The only ring she wore was her wedding band. He looked away, troubled more than he cared to admit by the sight of the gold band. “So, why have you been waiting for me?”

  She didn’t look up. “I know where your horse is.”

  “What?” He straightened, shocked by that news.

  “The mare you’re looking for. The expensive one you said Billy Wise stole from you. I know where that horse is.”

  “How do you know where my horse is?”

  “I bought the mare from Billy Wise,” she confessed with a droop of her shoulders.

  “You bought her?”

  “Last week, Billy stopped by Henry Gibson’s farm,” she answered. “Henry is an elderly man who knew my parents. Sometimes he worked for my father, doing odd jobs. Ever since I moved back here, I have tried to help him and Matthew get by. Matt is eleven. He’s an orphan whom Henry took in a few years ago,” she explained. “Billy claimed he had won the horse in a poker game, and he said he needed traveling money. I gave him a hundred dollars for the horse.”

  “He sold Midnight Dancer for a hundred dollars!” That was an insult to his horse.

  “I thought that was a lot,” she remarked and he glared at her. She didn’t know her horses.

  “Where is she?”

  “I gave her to Matthew.”

  “You gave her away?”

  “Matthew had been tending to her for Billy. I could see how much he loved the horse and he’s had so little in his life. I bought her so he could have her. He named her Morning Star.”

  “I want her back,” Austin said flatly.

  “Very well. Tomorrow, I’ll take you to get your horse if you promise me you’ll go home. There’s no future here for you.”

  Stung by her words, he frowned. “You’re that eager to get rid of me?”

  She chewed on her bottom lip as a tear streaked down her cheek. He swore as she wiped the tear away, but another one followed. He stalked over to the fireplace and stirred the embers. “I can’t stand for a woman to cry. I’d really appreciate it if you would stop.”

  She nodded and he saw she was battling to keep her emotions in check. He had never meant to make her so miserable. He had never loved and lost the way she had. “Darcy, if this about the ring and what I said, well, I take it all back. My mother never stopped wearing her wedding band either. It meant a great deal to her.”

  Darcy sighed. “I don’t wear the ring for the reasons you think I do. It’s not about love. Stephen never loved me.” That admission surprised Austin.<
br />
  She went on. “Long before he met me, he fell in love with Amelia Fletcher”

  Her husband had loved another woman? Austin wondered how she could have married a man who didn’t love her and why on earth was she still wearing her wedding band. “You knew he loved someone else and you still married him?”

  “I didn’t know that at the time. I thought he loved me but I found out later the only reason he married me was because his parents were insisting he take a wife.”

  “Did you love him?” Austin hoped she would say no, she hated his guts.

  With her head bowed, she nodded. He heard her sniffle. Silently, he swore and aloud he said, “Darcy, you don’t have to say any more. I understand.”

  She lifted her head. “No, you don’t.” She stood as if it were unbearable to sit any longer. “But I want you to understand.” She gave him a pleading gaze and he was tempted to haul her into his arms and tell her the past didn’t need to be understood. It just needed to be forgotten.

  “Stephen and Amelia were Romeo and Juliet. That’s how I have always thought of them because their families hated each other. Their grandfathers had been business partners, who ended up despising one another,” she said. “Amelia married Patrick Fletcher, Stephen’s best friend. They were often our dinner guests and our companions at social functions.

  “For the first year, I had quite a grand life. Stephen’s family owned the Branson Mining Company. His father gave us a beautiful home for our wedding gift. My grandfather, Doctor Andrew Howard, who was close friends with Stephen’s father, surprised us with new furniture and a beautiful carriage for our wedding present. Our families were very pleased with the match. I was happy and I thought Stephen was happy.”

  She touched her wedding band as she spoke. “Time went by and I noticed how different Stephen seemed when Amelia was present. How his smile was genuine.”