Wilda's Outlaw

by Velda Brotherton

It was a long time, an eternity, a split second, he knew not which, before she spoke. He’d’ve been content to not say a word, ever again. Just hold on and ride the wave of passion. But women did have to talk. He knew that.

  “What are we going to do?”

  It would be foolish to pretend he didn’t know what she was talking about. “I don’t know, we’ll figure something out.”

  “I hope so. I’ve never felt like this in my entire life, and I don’t want it to go away. So think of something quick. Figure something out?”

  He sensed her lips twitching into a grin against his cheek.

  “You have to admit, it’s a real problem we’ve got here,” he whispered. “No matter what we do, it could be wrong.”

  “Or it could be right.”

  “Yes, that too. First thing, we’ve got to get you away from Baron and his idea of you helping us rob that bank.”

  “How?”

  “Well, I was gonna hogtie you and take you back to Fairhaven out of his reach, but I reckon that’s out of the question now.”

  “That was out of the question all along.” She nibbled at his ear. “What about Rachel and her kids? We’ve got to help them. How can we do that without robbing the bank?”

  “Might as well ask how to rope that moon coming up yonder,” he replied.

  “Oh, look, isn’t it beautiful?”

  “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He leaned back a ways and gazed into her lovely face. What the hell were they going to do?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Nestled in the prairie grasses Wilda slept in his arms until dawn, awoke to find him studying her with those remarkable eyes that spoke to her of a wild spirit barely contained. It made her want to ride with him on the wind, all cares forgotten. He smiled, fingered a strand of hair from her face and kissed her lightly on the tip of the nose. Contentment was the only way to describe the feelings that washed through her.

  “Good morning. You look beautiful when you sleep. I have something for you.” He opened his hand to reveal a curl of golden chain and a tiny cross nested there.

  “Oh, Calder. Mama’s cross. Thank you so much.” She touched it with a finger.

  “Turn, lift your hair and I’ll put it on for you.”

  She did, breathed a sigh of wonder and delight when he fumbled the clasp shut and the cross rested between her breasts. Speechless, for he could not have done anything finer for her than this, she leaned back into his caress. He laughed, ran both thumbs down over her nipples.

  “Thank you so much,” she managed. “You don’t know what this means to me.”

  He moved around in front of her, cupped her face and met her gaze with his. “Yes, I do. I truly do.” Then he kissed her tenderly, his lips warm and soft and sweet.

  How she yearned to do something so dear for him. If only she could crawl inside his very soul and nestle there, absorb his essence, soothe his pain. Help him forget that while they lay in each other’s arms on the open prairie, men with guns rode their trail, their only desire to hang him.

  This man had awakened a spirit she’d never known lived within her. Its arousal quenched common sense and the Victorian airs the sisters had attempted to instill in her. Perhaps he was only releasing the courageous flame inherited from her mother.

  Cupping her face, he groaned and deepened the kiss for a moment longer, then tucked a lock of windblown hair behind her ear. “We have to get back. Baron will be awake and madder than hell when he finds us gone. He’s liable to try to rob that bank alone. Get himself killed.”

  In his arms, she remained silent for a while, wishing there were some easy way to say what she felt. There wasn’t. “Let him, then. He’s a grown man, responsible for his own actions. Do you have to care for him forever?”

  His eyes grew dusky and he stared past her, as if at something only he could see. “Yes, I’m afraid I do. At least I have to try. He means a lot to me. I wish he wasn’t how he is, but I can’t do anything about that. I can try to keep him from harm. I owe him that much.”

  What a gentle soul rested behind his facade of devil-may-care one moment, rage and anger the next. She prayed he could keep his violent friend from harming others. If he knew the true darkness that dwelled in the man’s soul he too would be wary. Perhaps she should tell him. No, that would never do.

  With one final hug, he boosted her to her feet and rose. Hand in hand they started down the slope toward the patch of cottonwood trees that hid the shack.

  “I have to tell you something,” she said, warring with herself even as she spoke. Her pronouncement would not make him happy, but it might halt what was about to happen.

  “Hmm, what is it?”

  “You know, I told Baron I could help rob the bank, that I had seen the safe and could…could describe it.” She paused, bit her lip.

  He stopped walking to stare at her. “Go on.”

  “I-I have never been in that bank. I lied.”

  Abruptly, he let go her hand. At that precise moment the sun burst above the horizon, its brilliant rays catching the harsh glint in his eyes.

  “Why? For God’s sake, why?”

  Why had she brought this up? She absolutely could not tell him what Baron had done to her, not the way he felt about the man. To do so would force him to choose between the two of them, and no matter who he chose the outcome would be disastrous for everyone.

  She started over. “I-I wanted to help Rachel, she is so sweet and her children are so precious. I thought it was a way to do that.” Seeing the flaw in that explanation, she stopped, gazed up at him helplessly. “I don’t know why I did it, I just did. It was a childish thing and I wanted my dream, a fantasy really, to come true. So I lied, and then it grew and grew, and I couldn’t stop it. I’m so sorry. I didn’t think you would really rob the bank, I guess. Or maybe if you thought he would make me go along, you would stop the entire thing. Oh, I am making no sense at all, am I?”

  “No, but it doesn’t matter, seeing as how I didn’t intend to let you help us rob anything. Your lie will make it easier to keep you plumb out of it. But we’ll have some fancy explaining to do, and he ain’t gonna be happy.” Once more he grabbed her hand, gazed deep into her eyes “You ain’t lied about anything else. Right?”

  She shook her head.

  “Okay, and girl, don’t you lie to me ever again. Okay?”

  She nodded and kissed him on the jaw. Together they took long strides down the hill, so fast she stumbled along behind to keep up.

  They found a furious Baron stuffing wood into the cook stove. Features dark, he turned on them both. “Well, where the hell you two been? No, never mind. I don’t want to know. It’s none of my business, I don’t reckon.”

  He went back to lighting the fire, as if they weren’t there.

  “She never saw the safe,” Calder said, squeezing her hand.

  Eyes squenched, she waited for the explosion.

  Burning match in one hand, Baron stiffened. Quite deliberately, he lit the wadded papers in the stove. The flare ignited the kindling with a snap and crackle. A visible rage grew in him like the flames licking at the kindling. Thank goodness, Calder held her hand, stood so close.

  No surprise that Baron rose and turned on them, a scowl crossing his flushed face. “She’s lying to you to keep from going with us.”

  Calder shook his head. “No, she’s not lying. She lied before, but not now. Besides, I wasn’t gonna let her go with us anyway.”

  An arched brow showed what Baron thought of Calder’s last statement, but he chose not to reply to it, concentrating instead on the topic of their conversation. “She’s been lying all along…about everything, and if you think about it, you’ll know I’m right. She’s done all this to trap us, to turn us in to the law. They might even have sent her. That bastard Calumet wants us in the worst way.”

  Calder stiffened, held on to her. “No, that’s not true.”

  She could read doubt in the tone of his voice. What if he believed his friend,
sided with him?

  “I’ll bet she’s even told you she loves you, can’t live without you,” Baron persisted. “What if she’s been lying about that, too? Women are that way.”

  “Calder?” Wilda pleaded, but he dropped her hand, turned to study her.

  “You didn’t tell him, did you?” Baron asked, nailing her with dull eyes.

  “No, I didn’t tell. I won’t. I promised.” Her gaze darted from Baron to Calder, whose face had drained of color. She didn’t know what to do, felt cornered. No matter what she did, it would be wrong.

  Baron chuckled, a choppy sound. “I’ll just bet you won’t.” He sidled a muddy glance toward her, then away. “She threw herself at me when I found her here, and I lost my temper. No one else did that to her, I did. I didn’t mean to hurt her, but she’s a slut. She tried to get me to…well, hell, you know, and it made me so damned mad I grabbed her, shoved her. I reckon a bit too hard. Anyway, she fetched up against that wall and banged her head. I didn’t mean to hurt her, I swear I didn’t.”

  Calder’s fists clenched at his sides. He swayed, stared from Baron to her.

  Amazed at the audacity of the man to fabricate such a lie, she could summon no words to contradict his claim. All she could do was shake her head back and forth and implore Calder with numb silence. Surely, if he loved her he would trust her.

  “I don’t believe you,” he finally said, but his tone said he wasn’t sure what to think. After all, he had known this man all his adult life, shared a war with him. He had only just met her. And she had just admitted to lying to him.

  “Aw, hell, what’s it gonna take to open your eyes?” Baron kicked the empty water bucket. It clattered across the room, smacked up against the wall and rolled away.

  Once the sound ceased, the room was silent as a tomb. No one moved, only stared one at the other. She cringed and darted behind Calder. There was only one way out of this. She had no business here, did not belong with these men. Not Calder and certainly not the volatile Baron. The next time they were alone he might kill her.

  “I want to go back to Rachel’s,” she said, aware of a catch in her voice. “I can stay there until we can figure a way out for all of us, her and her wee ones and myself.”

  “You let her go she’ll turn us in,” Baron warned.

  “No, she won’t.” Calder’s confused gaze caught hers, and she yearned to put her arms around him, but he turned away.

  The two men faced each other; she eased through the door and onto the porch, left the tension that threatened to explode at any moment. But what to do? She could not walk to Rachel’s, it was too far, so she crossed into the barnyard to wait with Gabe. Calder would soon follow and take her from this place. Surely he wouldn’t leave her on her own.

  The bay spotted her, tossed his head and trotted over to nudge her shoulder with his freckled nose. Absently, she rubbed at the velvet muzzle. “So, now you like me.” She touched her lips to his nose. A tear plopped to darken Gabe’s hair.

  The previous night spent in Calder’s arms and the desire his touch had ignited would surely haunt her forever. And when he returned the cross, he bound her to him for an eternity. Such a small thing to mean so much. Yet in the light of day, her common sense kicked in. Life with a man who robbed banks was not what she wanted. She had come to America with a certain amount of trepidation for what awaited her with Lord Prescott. Inspired by hopes and dreams, she longed to make a better life for herself as well as her sister and cousin. Foolishly, as it turned out.

  Her mother had chosen the life of an outcast when she decided to run away with her father, but she had her sister for comfort. To their Irish parents, those two good Irish Catholic girls eloping with Englishmen raised in the Anglican Church was probably every bit as bad as running off with a bank robber. Maybe worse. Still, she was not her mother. Times were different now. And if she did this terrible thing, she would lose the companionship of her sister and cousin. Forever. Not to mention what dreadful punishments Blair might devise for the three of them to retaliate for the false kidnapping.

  No matter how much she rationalized, every fiber of her being longed to have Calder, so much so that the thought of losing him made her ache all over, as if from the ague. But it was clear that he did not feel as strongly about her, or he would not have hesitated in there when Baron told that dreadful lie about her. If he truly loved and trusted her, he would have punched Baron right in the nose and dragged her from his presence, never to return. When you got right down to the heart of the matter, Calder was an outlaw, living the kind of life she could not imagine. And he would probably chose it over her without pause. To him, she’d been a plaything, and to her detriment, she’d begun the game, so had no one but herself to blame.

  What would she do? There seemed no answer. Her throat burned and she leaned against Gabe and began to sob. He whickered in sympathy and rubbed his soft nose against her shoulder.

  In the shack, Calder turned his back on Baron and stared out the door at Wilda and Gabe. She was probably crying. Disappointment knotted his belly hard. That’d teach him to want someone he couldn’t have.

  Dammit, he’d known better than to get messed up this way, had done his best to prevent it. One long glance from those blue eyes had snagged him in a trap, until he could scarcely draw breath. If only he’d stayed miles away from her, then this wouldn’t’ve happened. He knew the cure, knew it as well as anything. Take her where she’d be safe and leave her there; stay where he belonged, riding the outlaw trail. Him and Baron and Deke, if they could find him. No demanding woman tied to them. Free. Never looking back. He owed it to his slain family. And Baron too. Dammit, someone had to pay for what was done to them, to this once beautiful land, soaked by the blood of innocent, hardworking people who wanted nothing more than to live their lives out in peace. Someone ought to be made to pay for that. Yet, inside something broke and pain went all through him. To lose her would finish the destruction of his very soul, begun by that hateful war.

  Baron broke into his thoughts. “You’re a fool if you let her go. Keep her here, just till after we get away. They’ll find her, take her back where she belongs. I’ll go find Deke.”

  “No. I’m taking her home. You find Deke and meet me back here. You know him, he ain’t far, just waiting for one of us to come fetch him.” Without waiting for a reply he stomped across the porch and down the steps.

  Silently, he ignored Wilda and slipped a bridle and bit on Gabe. He lifted his tack off the fence rail and, moving her aside, tossed blanket and saddle on the horse.

  He couldn’t touch her, look at her, think about her or he’d fly apart.

  Gabe shot him a dirty look when he tightened the cinch under his belly. Dragging in a deep breath to settle his temper, Calder eased off, fastened the latigo and let down the stirrup.

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  He was right, she’d been crying, but he hardened his heart. “Taking you home.” His voice grated over a burning in his throat.

  “Back to Rachel’s?”

  He hesitated a moment, then lied to her, because if he didn’t she wouldn’t go. Besides, dammit, she didn’t mind one whit lying to him. Swinging himself into the saddle, he reached down for her hand. Took its satiny smoothness into his calloused palm and nearly cried out with anguish. The touch of her supple fingers, a memory of her sweet mouth trailing over his flesh, caressing him, loving him. What he wanted…all he wanted. But wanting it made him a blamed fool.

  Angrily, he kicked a foot out of the stirrup so she could place hers in its place and pulled her up none too gently behind him. She cried out and he was sorry, but plunged on. Dared not allow sympathy for her to soften his reserve.

  “Hang on,” he warned, and urged Gabe forward. All the while he did all he could to ignore her arms around his waist, her cheek warm and soft against his back, her body. Oh, God, those firm thighs. He could go crazy with needing her, but couldn’t have her and that was that.

  Stiff in the sadd
le, he carried her toward the rising sun, followed the river, the bay’s long legs eating up the miles. Where the trail led up out of the valley toward Victoria City, he slowed and let the animal pick his own way until they reached the level prairie. Then he reined him toward Fairhaven. Take her back quick, before he could change his mind and head west. Keep riding, her clinging to him. Leave it all behind, Baron and the man she was supposed to marry, memories of a war that would not leave him be and a time that should be passed and gone, but somehow wasn’t. The two of them ride into the wind until it all drifted away and nothing mattered but him and the woman he loved. Together. Forever. He tightened his jaw against further thought of such nonsense. He knew what he had to do, now all he had to do was…leave her be.

  Tall prairie grasses brushed his boots, the ones he’d ruined rolling about in the river with her. Dammit, couldn’t he stop thinking of her…of them together?

  Engaged in the battle of both his wills, he didn’t hear or see the posse that cut across the plains, until they shouted, and gunfire popped in the still, warm morning. Out of range, but closing fast.

  “Turn loose, get off,” he shouted at her. “They won’t hurt you.”

  She hung on fiercely, screamed at them to stop, not to shoot. The brisk wind snatched the words away. In the melee, Gabe reared and she slid backward, landing on the ground with a thud and a pitiful cry.

  Calder stood in the stirrups, threw a quick glance at her to see if she was hurt. Gabe danced, pawed at the air; out of the corner of his eye he saw her scramble to her feet, wave her arms at the approaching men and scream for them to stop shooting…not to hurt him.

  “Please God, don’t hurt him.” Turning back to him, “Please, Calder, don’t leave me.”

  “Dammit,” he muttered, leaned forward, caught her around the waist and swept her up, heeled Gabe into a hard run. At the same time he slipped from the saddle to the horse’s broad back and settled her in front of him, sent the bay into a ground-eating stride. No time to look back or consider consequences. Just get the hell out of there.