by Jill Gregory
Wade was perhaps the most astonishing to her. When last she had seen him, a self-sufficient and intelligent boy of fifteen, she might have guessed that he would grow into a formidable man, but she could not have guessed that he would be so quick-witted, keen-minded, organized and yet so daring that he could mastermind the exploits and escapes of a gang of bandits that had never once in all these years been apprehended. Wade, with his deep-set eyes and square jaw, listened more than he talked, she observed as she relished each mouthful of Skunk’s delicious cooking, and when he did speak, his words were crisp, definite, and well thought out. Tommy, on the other hand, every bit as bold and brash as those long-lashed blue eyes of his would suggest, blurted out whatever was on his mind, giving no heed to the consequences. He was as blunt and direct as his brother was contemplative, but his heart, Juliana saw at once, was open and giving, as big as the canyons themselves, and there was never a hint of malice in any word he uttered. Tommy, who had forever worn the same blue and yellow plaid shirt as a boy, who had waded through mud puddles and piles of horse manure without a second thought, was now a rake, immaculate in his cleanliness and personal appearance, his hair always brushed and slick, his clothing as spotless and as dashing as he could find. Skunk told her all this while he brewed more coffee, and though Tommy swatted the top of his head and called him a dog-faced liar, Juliana could see for herself that it was true. In his expensive pale blue linen shirt and silken neckerchief, with his boots polished so brightly, he could see his own glossy reflection in them, her golden-haired twenty-two-year-old brother was as impeccable as he was handsome. A ladies’ man, Skunk next whispered in her ear, with his lopsided grin spreading from one side of his homely face to the other. Women always swarmed over Tommy, he added, like hornets around a bowl of sugar— and Tommy, he fell in love with them all, one right after the other, sometimes two or three at a time—and then, lordy, the pickles he found himself in.
Juliana listened and learned much from all that went on at that rowdy table while the sun drifted lower in the sky outside the shuttered window and plumes of pink and lavender swept delicate arcs across the horizon.
There was so much to discover, to savor. And there were gifts—after the meal, Tommy and Wade showered her with an assortment of plumed hats, pearl earbobs, a fine silver hairbrush, a jeweled reticule, and gowns ... a fetching, daffodil-yellow organdy with narrow sleeves and waist, and a low cut, seafoam-green silk with a sash adorned by pearls set within tiny ivory rosettes, and a full, graceful skirt falling in diaphanous folds over a cream satin underskirt. Wherever did they find such creations? Overcome, she had merely gazed in spellbound wonder at all these treasures. She’d been reduced to wearing the same crumpled muslin day after day, and then this dreadful oversize shirt and trousers, only to find herself now the recipient of lovely and feminine items designed to gladden any woman’s heart. The most touching part of all was the discovery that all this time she’d been thinking about her brothers, struggling to find them, Wade and Tommy had been thinking about her too. They’d been gathering up these gifts, packing them in along with all their other gear, and dragging them about the West just so they could shower her with presents when they finally found each other again. Tommy, seeing the glisten of tears in her eyes as she stroked the silken skirt of the gown and glanced about at all the other lovely things, quickly told her that all of these were just silly-little trinkets, which they had purchased since Gil Keedy had told them of her plight and they’d first started searching for her.
“There’s a whole lot of birthdays we missed while you were growing up from a little freckle-faced peanut into the loveliest girl ever to take the West by storm. We’re meaning to make up to you for all those years we lost.”
She cried, throwing her arms around him and then hugging Wade, clinging to them both with a fierce need and longing for her family that was finally being answered after years of denial.
“I have nothing for you,” Juliana gulped at last, wiping her tears on the big neckerchief Wade handed her. His eyes were moist, too, Juliana noted, though she refrained from embarrassing him by mentioning it.
“You’ve brought sunshine back to us. You’ve made our hearts whole again. I reckon that’s enough.” Wade looked a little startled by his own sentimental speech, and ruffled her hair to cover his own discomfiture. “Tell you what, peanut. Go in that back room and put on one of these fancy new dresses. You’ll find some other things in there, too—thanks to Josie.”
“Josie?”
Her brothers exchanged glances. Gil Keedy started to say something, then stopped. To Juliana’s surprise, Tommy shot him a glowering look.
“We’ll tell you all about Josie later,” Wade said after an awkward moment when Gil and Tommy glared at each other. “First, run along and fix up your hair and try on those fancy earbobs. We haven’t had much feminine company in a while and it’ll do us good to see you all gussied up and gorgeous.”
So she did what he asked, slipping into the seafoam gown, suitable for a ball or the opera, ridiculously out or place in this Stick Mountain cabin—yet, she wanted to celebrate her happiness by looking her best, and to please her brothers by showing off their gifts. The mysterious Josie, whom she wanted very badly to learn more about, had left a parcel on the bureau for her containing undergarments, shoes and a chemise, as well as hairpins and a comb. The dressmaker who had sewn the gowns for “a young lady of slender and perfect proportions,” as Gil Keedy had described her (he being the only one to have seen Juliana in recent years) had done an excellent job—the gown fit remarkably well, and she fastened the pearl buttons across her bodice with gay pleasure. There was no looking glass in the small bedroom with its straw cot and cedar bureau, but glancing down at herself, she felt delight at the sight of the cascading skirt, the snug bodice, the lovely sash that accentuated her tiny waist. Next came the fine pearl earbobs, and then she brushed and brushed her hair until it glimmered like fire.
With her thick curls arranged in a pretty cascade about her face, she at last emerged from the back room to smile dazzlingly at the roomful of men.
Tommy was the first to speak, in a subdued, admiring voice matched by the appreciative shine in his eyes. “Well, you sure do look like mama. Little sister, I never thought to see another woman as pretty as her—but you do match her and maybe then some—no disrespect intended.”
“Bless mama’s soul, but I never saw her look so radiant,” Wade said. He came forward and took Juliana’s small hands in his strong grip. “She had a hard life and it showed. Her eyes always had a shadow over them, even when she was happy, which she was whenever Pa was near. But you ... Juliana ... you’ll steal the breath away from every man who looks at you.”
Gray Feather nodded, his dark eyes shining. Skunk snatched his hat off his head. “Yep, Miss Juliana, that’s no exaggeration. You surely are a sight to behold.”
Gil Keedy stepped forward, his freckles standing out in bright relief against his flushed face. “I never reckoned a dress could look so pretty on a woman. I’m mighty glad John Breen didn’t get his chance to slip that ring on your finger, Juliana.”
“If you think you’re going to start up your flirting with my sister, Keedy, you’re dead wrong,” Tommy burst out, striding forward with fists clenched. “It’s bad enough the way you keep dangling after Josie, but—”
“I’ll thank you to steer clear of my business, Montgomery,” Gil fired back, “unless you want to step outside and eat some dust.”
“Try and make me!” Tommy growled, his blue eyes dangerously narrowed.
“Enough,” Wade ordered, shooting his brother an irritated look, then shaking his head at the riled Texan. “Simmer down, Tommy. And you, too, Keedy. I’ve had enough of you two squawking like a couple of roosters over Josie Larson, and I’m not going to let you spoil Juliana’s first night with us.”
“I think we ought to have a toast,” Juliana interrupted hastily, alarmed by the angry rivalry she’d just witnessed between Tommy and G
il. She was more curious than ever to learn about this Josie Larson, but at the moment she felt it best to change the subject quickly. “To the Montgomery gang!” she exclaimed gaily. “To Gray Feather for bringing me here! To birthday presents—especially late ones! Tommy”—and she bestowed on her still glowering brother a brilliant smile—“you may pour. Please?”
Forming a circle, they all toasted, Wade and Tommy touching their tin cups to hers.
Juliana stared around the motley little group and wondered that she felt perfectly at home. In addition to Wade and Tommy, there were Skunk, Gray Feather, and Yancy, each man so different from the others, yet she felt as though she’d known them all her life. Criminals? These men were all wanted outlaws, but from what she had seen, there was nothing savage or vicious or dangerous about any of them. Looking at Skunk as he downed his second cup of wine, she couldn’t imagine him hurting anyone. He was an odd, funny creature with a great talent for cooking—not at all the kind of man she could imagine holding up banks and stagecoaches. Skunk. So named not for any undesirable odor, as she at first anticipated, but because of his unusual hair coloring, he was a swarthy, good-natured little man. His thin black hair tended to stand straight up on his head, and in one patch had turned a pure shade of white. Gray Feather, the Apache who had brought her here, was a mute—when he first seized her, he could not have told her he was bringing her to her brothers, for his tongue had been cut out as a boy when he had been captured by an enemy tribe.
Gray Feather, whose silken dark hair, sharply chiseled face, and shining black eyes had so frightened her before, became for Juliana an object of intense sympathy after this story was told. But Tommy threw back his head and gave a shout of laughter when he saw the compassion on his sister’s delicate face. “Don’t feel sorry for him, peanut, he talks with his knife far better than with any old tongue. He’s quick as a hawk, Gray Feather is—he can throw that knife of his faster and straighter than a man can shoot a gun. And when it comes to tracking, or covering up tracks, no one is better than Gray Feather. He’s no poor babe to be pitied, now, are you, my friend?” He said something in Apache that brought a quick smile to the Indian’s dark face.
The Apache’s eyes gleamed at her. There was a not unkind amusement in his face as he watched the fair-haired sister of his companions blush prettily.
“Tommy, don’t tease Juliana,” Wade said sharply. “She’s been gently raised and it’s only natural she’d be shocked by what happened to Gray Feather.”
Tommy sank down on one knee beside her. “Juliana, you don’t mind my teasing, do you?”
His tone was light, but she could see that in the depths of his eyes he was searching to see if he had really offended her.
She reached out and ruffled his hair, her heart tightening with a rush of love. “Not in the least—but I hope you won’t mind if I tease you about a certain lady—Josie, isn’t it?” She raised her slim brows at the hot color that rushed into his cheeks.
“Who told you about her?” Tommy jumped up, all six lanky feet of him, and glared about the room, his big fists clenched. “Skunk, it was you.” He yanked the cook out of his chair. “I reckon I’ll roast you over that soup pot, damned if I won’t ...”
“ ‘Twas me, boy.” Yancy, the fifth and most unobtrusive member of the gang spoke up from the bench at the end of the long pine table. He was a barrel-chested, round-jawed Irishman, older than the others, with pale ghostlike wisps of hair and sad eyes the faded color of an old blue shirt.
“That lassie needs a friend, and I was thinking that your sister here might be a good one for her. If that troubles you, lad, we can always step outdoors and settle the matter, now can’t we?”
But there was a smile in his eyes as he said these words and Tommy quickly grinned and shook his head. “You know I’m no match for you, Sergeant, but why’d you have to blabber about her? Josie isn’t like the others, and you know it.”
“That’s what he says each and every time,” Skunk whispered in Juliana’s ear.
“And as for needing a friend, I’m her friend and I’ll take care of her. She doesn’t need anyone else.”
This last remark seemed pointed not at Yancy or even Juliana, listening in keen silence, but at Gil Keedy, who rose from his place on the pine bench and bestowed on Tommy another one of those glowering, all-too-ready-to-fight looks.
“Yancy’s right,” Gil said, evenly enough. “I reckon Josie does need a ladyfriend to talk to her. If you weren’t such a peacock-headed fool, prancing around feeding her a lot of sweet talk, you’d see that she needs another woman to guide her and help her. Someone fine and sensible like Juliana. What she doesn’t need is you hanging around bothering her all day long....”
“You’re the one always hanging around her like some damned lovestruck calf, with that pitiful expression on your face ...”
Both men sprang toward each other, fists swinging, and Juliana cried out in alarm, but Wade jumped between them and shoved Tommy back. Yancy grabbed ahold of Gil’s shirt and pulled him into a far corner, while Skunk and Gray Feather watched in wry amusement. Juliana was horrified.
“I won’t have violence under this roof!” she stormed. “Look at the two of you—acting like a couple of tomcats, not grown men! Tommy Montgomery, I’m ashamed of you! And Gil, why, you know better than to behave like this! Whatever happened to those gracious Texas manners?”
Gil, beet red, mumbled profuse apologies, and after being released by Yancy, came forward to press Juliana’s hand. Tommy had the grace to hang his head.
Wade said, “I think it’s time we all sat down and talked. Juliana must have a lot of questions, and so do we. Let’s get ‘em answered. And then tomorrow we can take Juliana to meet Josie and the baby.”
Juliana felt herself being drawn into something that grew more mystifying by the second, but before she could interrupt with a question, Wade had taken charge of the group. She found herself seated on the battered hardback sofa before the stove, with Wade beside her and the other men pulling up chairs and benches and crates, all except for Tommy, who sprawled comfortably on the floor with his head propped on his hand. There was still an angry, defiant glint in his beautiful eyes, but he waited patiently enough while Wade launched into a concise explanation of the brothers’ past, from the time they’d left Independence up until the present. Juliana listened in wonder and amazement, forgetting everything else, hearing only the smooth, pleasant tones of Wade’s deep voice, seeing only the picture his well-chosen words conjured up. And what a picture it was.
She saw not two savage, violent criminals, as Aunt Katharine and Uncle Edward would have had her think of them, but two young men searching for adventure, whose high principles and basic decency had ensnared them in a way of life as dangerous and exciting as it was illegal. Bandits, yes, Wade and Tommy were indeed outlaws, but according to her brother, they stole only from those who cheated and connived to get their wealth, and never touched a penny belonging to an honest man.
It was an incredible tale—a tale of adventure, daring, and sheer steel-edged nerve. Wade and Tommy had reached Texas all those years ago, but along the way to their dream of a horse ranch they had found a town called Skye. A town where a greedy man rustled cattle without anyone being able to catch him at it, a town where that same man grew rich and bought up business after business, cheating the townspeople, raising prices, milking the citizens dry. Where a female saloonkeeper had begged their help because the greedy man, one Amos Long, was trying to force her out of business, and if she couldn’t come up with a hefty sum of money to pay the mortgage on her saloon—a mortgage he held—he would close her down and take over the place himself.
It was Wade who had come up with their first plan. Tommy had been only too willing, for he’d been head over heels in love with the voluptuous saloonkeeper from the first moment he laid eyes on her. The brothers had donned masks and held up a stagecoach carrying Amos Long’s payroll gold. They’d split the loot fifty-fifty with the saloonkeeper, e
nabling her to buy off her mortgage and thrive, despite Amos Long. For their trouble, they’d gotten five sizable sacks of gold all to themselves, and the excitement of surviving the chase of their lives. Long had organized a posse to track them down—they’d had to flee Skye, flee Texas, but eventually they moved on down through Arizona and New Mexico, and “situations,” as Tommy called them, always seemed to find them.
It didn’t really surprise Juliana, once she started to think about it. The West was filled with lawless, corrupt men who would run over everyone and everything in their paths to get what they wanted. John Breen was such a man, and so—from what she had heard—was Line McCray. Wade and Tommy had moved from town to town, and when they found one where greed and ruthlessness had made one man rich at the expense of others, they took their time finding out enough information about him and the operation of his business to make their holdup successful. Such as when the payment was coming through, how many guards there would be, where the likely trouble was expected. Then they would do the unexpected—attack at a surprise point, when the horses were most tired, when the guards were least alert. Patience and the passage of time, Wade told her with a grim smile, revealed all things. One of the things they learned while spending time in the various towns, was who had suffered most at the greedy man’s expense, who was most in need of aid, and who would help them by supplying information. These people all received a share of the haul from whatever job was pulled, while the brothers kept the rest for the risk and effort involved. Along the way, and through the intervening years, they had allied themselves with Skunk, Gray Feather, and Yancy, all of whom possessed unique abilities. Gray Feather knew the land as well as he knew every line and knuckle of his own hand. He was an expert guide to the most secluded hideouts—and famous for covering every vestige of their tracks in such a way that even the most skilled trackers couldn’t detect them. Skunk, in addition to being an excellent cook, was a skilled rider and marksman, with aim almost as good as Tommy, who was considered the best shot in the gang, and was able to ride hard and fast for days on end over the most savage country without tiring. Yancy, a former sergeant with the Union army, was a munitions expert, with dynamite his specialty, a skill that had come in handy many times for the Montgomery gang. Wade’s area of expertise was his cool head for planning and a genius for organization, while Tommy brought enthusiasm, unequaled quickness with a gun, and more daring than most ten men put together. One time, cornered in Lost Creek Canyon, surrounded by a posse large enough to kill or capture them all, Tommy had managed to sneak away, shoot a round of rifle fire that startled the daylights out of the posse, and then lured them all in hot pursuit of him, enabling the others to get away. He’d led the posse a wild chase, over ravine, hill, and valley, down into the brakes beneath the Mogollon Rim and up steep escarpments, and finally lost them deep within the forests of ponderosa pine, while Wade led the others to the hideout. Tommy joined them several days later, exhilarated, triumphant, and unscathed. It was only one adventure of many, Wade told her, where his younger brother had saved the day.
