“You want to tell him, even though we can’t find the sheriff?”
She hesitated. Her experience with ministers wasn’t limited to the Reverend Mr. Winters, and she wanted to believe that Pastor Lewis would guard their privacy. “I think he’ll keep it a secret if we want him to. Do we?”
Johnny sighed. “Can’t forever, but…well, it’d probably be best until we see what Jackson has to say. I reckon we can ask Pastor Lewis to keep it quiet for now.”
He drove toward the church and pulled up before the parsonage. “Maybe I should put Reckless in the church sheds.”
“Surely it won’t take that long.”
He nodded and climbed down. Sally waited while he secured the horse to the hitching rail, praying silently.
Lord, I love my husband. Please don’t take him away from me.
Myra Lewis opened the door to them and beckoned them inside, smiling. “Good morning, folks! How nice to see you.”
“We wondered if the pastor’s busy,” Sally said. Johnny seemed tongue-tied, standing beside her with his hat in his hands.
“I’m sure he’s not too busy to see you. Come on in.” Myra led them into the parlor, where Pastor Lewis hunched over his desk. He turned around as they entered. When he saw who had come calling, he stood.
“Hello, Mrs. Paynter. Mark.” He shook both their hands.
Johnny threw Sally a panicky glance.
Sally took a deep breath. “Sir, we have a matter of some delicacy to discuss with you.”
“Certainly. Sit down, won’t you? Myra, perhaps some coffee in about fifteen minutes?”
“Yes, of course.” Myra smiled at Sally and left the room, closing the door behind her.
Some difference from Mr. Winters’s house, Sally thought. Effie would insist on staying to hear the conversation. Her esteem for both Lewises rose a notch.
She settled on the sofa, and Johnny plunked down beside her, still worrying his hat.
“Now, how may I help you?” Mr. Lewis asked, sinking into an upholstered chair opposite Johnny.
Sally waited for her husband to speak. She didn’t want to usurp his place if he wished to be the one telling the tale. In fact, she hoped he would take on the task. It was his story to tell.
Johnny looked at her again, shifted in his seat, and cleared his throat. “Well, sir…”
Mr. Lewis waited a couple of seconds then leaned toward him slightly. “Yes, Mark?”
“See, that’s the thing of it,” Johnny said. “I’m not really Mark.”
The pastor sat unmoving for perhaps five seconds then said,
“What?”
“Yes, sir. I’m Johnny, Mark’s brother.”
“Oh. Perhaps you could clarify that for me.”
“I’ll try. I reckon it started when I was punching cows up in Colorado, and my brother, Mark, was down here. I didn’t know he was corresponding with Sally here.” Johnny continued with his tale, and when he had finished with his confrontation of Cam and his confession to Sally, they all sat in silence.
A soft knock came on the parlor door, and the pastor called, “Come in, my dear.” As he rose and took the tray from his wife, he smiled apologetically. “I’d ask you to join us, Myra, but the Paynters have a dilemma I don’t feel free to share with you yet. I’m sorry.”
“That’s all right,” Myra said, giving Sally a reassuring smile. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything else.”
Sally noted that she had set out only three cups on the tray with the coffeepot, cream pitcher, sugar bowl, and plate of small raisin cookies. Apparently Myra didn’t make the assumption that she would be included in her husband’s business conferences.
“If you’d like Mrs. Lewis to be here,” she began, but the pastor shook his head.
“When we’ve finished, if you feel comfortable with it, I’ll share our discussion with Myra, but with something this…unusual…I think it may be best to have utmost privacy until you’ve decided what you are going to do.”
“Thank you,” Sally said.
“Yes, sir,” Johnny said softly. “We do appreciate that.”
Myra smiled again and backed out of the room, shutting the door.
“Well, now. Would you care to pour, Mrs. Paynter?”
“I’d be glad to,” Sally said, “but while I do so, maybe you can tell us if I’m really Mrs. Paynter.”
Pastor Lewis frowned. “Oh, I see.”
“That’s one of our main concerns,” Sally said.
Johnny leaned forward and held out a hand toward the minister, as if reaching for assurance. “See, when we came to you for the wedding, remember I asked you to say my name as Mark John Paynter?”
“I do recall that.”
Johnny nodded. “That’s because I figured I couldn’t marry Sally using Mark’s name. Now, his middle name was Daniel, but I thought maybe if you said my name in there, before Paynter, then it would make it legal.”
Mr. Lewis sat back and drummed his fingers lightly on the arms of his chair. “I see. Very clever of you.”
“So,” Sally said. “We really hope it’s good and legal. Is it… ?”
Lewis eyed her closely. “Mrs.—Sally. You say you hope it’s legal. Does that mean you wish to remain married to this man, even though he deceived you about his identity?”
Sally squared her shoulders. “Yes, sir, I do. I have feelings for him, and I believe he has repented of his lying.”
“I have,” Johnny said, almost inaudibly.
Sally looked over at him. He looked like an overwrought little boy, about to burst into tears of remorse.
“I didn’t want to lie, sir, and I surely didn’t want to hurt Sally. I didn’t know what to do, and Cam…” Johnny sat up straighter. “Well, I won’t blame him. I knew it was wrong to lie to Sally. And to you. I kept thinking about Ananias and Sapphira and how they tried to lie to God. But if I didn’t let her think I was Mark, I’d have to tell her he was dead, and it had been a few days by then. I’d have to tell the law, and Cam was dead certain Jackson would arrest me and send me back to Colorado to be hung. That, or he’d accuse me of killing Mark.” He huffed out a breath and let his shoulders sag. “But I’m going to tell him anyway, as soon as he gets back.”
“We went to the sheriff’s office first,” Sally said. “John wishes to turn himself in.”
“I’ll do whatever Jackson tells me,” Johnny added. “I didn’t kill anyone, though.”
The pastor made no comment on this but nodded at Sally. “Let’s have that coffee, shall we?”
While she poured the three cups full, Pastor Lewis rose and went to his desk. He opened a drawer and took out a small book and came back, flipping the pages.
“Here we are. You’re correct, Mr. Paynter, about the name. On the marriage certificate I sent to the capital, I wrote Mark John Paynter.” He closed the book and picked up his coffee cup. “I could write to the registrar and claim an honest mistake, which it was, on my part. They would correct the record there.”
“And would that make it legal?” Sally asked.
“Oh, I believe the union is legal now.” Lewis took a sip of his coffee. “Come, drink it before it gets cold.”
Johnny and Sally both reached for their cups. The coffee was strong and a little bitter, but Sally didn’t add sugar. This moment was sweet enough.
“Of course, I can’t help you with the other matters, but I believe we can lay the marriage question to rest.” The pastor put his cup down and smiled at them. “If you have any doubts, you could repeat your vows today.”
The thought almost stole Sally’s breath away. She looked sidelong at Johnny. He was gazing at her, his face transfigured into hope, with just a tinge of anxiety about his eyes.
“I’d like that,” she said.
Johnny grinned. “Yes, sir. Me, too.” He thunked his cup down on the table.
“Then please join hands,” Mr. Lewis said.
Johnny’s grip was strong and sure this time. Sally couldn’t help think
ing about that first time. If she had known then what she knew now… He was right. She would no doubt have told the authorities and left town.
Mr. Lewis stood. “I don’t think we need a witness this time, but if you’d like, I could call Myra in.”
“Please do,” Sally said. Belatedly, she arched her eyebrows at Johnny.
“Sure. Why not?” Johnny said.
The pastor went to the door and opened it. “Oh, Myra! Could you join us for a minute, please?”
When his wife entered the parlor, Mr. Lewis smiled at her. “My dear, Mr. and Mrs. Paynter wish to renew their wedding vows. Would you like to witness the occasion?”
Myra smiled as if nothing would please her more. “What a lovely start to the day.”
CHAPTER 22
The ride home was quiet and about as sweet an hour as a man could want. As soon as they were outside the town limits, Sally scooted over close to Johnny and laid her head on his shoulder. He slipped his arm around her and pulled her even closer. It felt good. It felt right.
As they passed the Caxtons’ ranch, they could see Mrs. Caxton out hanging laundry on the clothesline. Johnny gave a neighborly wave, and Sally sat up straight and proper for a few minutes. But she cuddled right down again as soon as they were out of sight.
“I love you, Johnny,” she said.
His chest felt like it was outgrowing his shirt. She looked up at him expectantly, and he nodded. “Love you, too.” There. He’d said it. She knew who he was, and she loved him. He guessed he could do anything for her. Mark would have said it, loud and often. Maybe it wasn’t too late to learn some things from his brother.
“Thanks for marryin’ me again,” he said. It came out a little gruffly, but she flung herself practically into his lap. Johnny let Reckless pick his own way for a hundred yards or so, while he kissed her good and proper. He was starting to think this marriage business wasn’t so terrifying after all, once you did it right.
After a minute, he realized the horse had stopped and was grabbing mouthfuls of grass at the edge of the road.
“Hey, you!” He straightened out the reins and clucked. Reckless set out again at a lazy jog.
“You could have sent me back to St. Louis,” Sally said.
“Why would I do that?”
“I know you didn’t want to marry me the first time.”
He sneaked a sideways glance at her. “Did you really know it then?”
“I suspected, but you kept saying everything was all right. And you did take me to the preacher, and you had a ring, and…”
He shrugged. “Once I saw there was no way out of it—”
“Oh, you!” She pounded his arm with her fists, but if she’d have been serious, she’d have hurt him. She was like a kitten playing with a wad of paper.
He laughed and hauled her in so tight a body couldn’t have peeled her off him with a crowbar.
The lane to the ranch came in sight.
“What do you fancy to name this place?” Sally asked.
“What, the ranch?”
“Yes. Mark said in one of his letters he didn’t have a name for it yet.”
Johnny shrugged. “His brand is an MP.”
“His initials.”
“Yup.”
“Maybe we should call it something with those letters. Then we wouldn’t have to change the brand.”
“Wouldn’t have to change it anyhow,” Johnny said. What a headache that would be. He didn’t have to guide Reckless off the main road. They were close to home, and the chestnut knew it.
“I’ll fix us some dinner,” Sally said.
Johnny looked up at the sun. “I reckon the train’s leaving about now. I’m glad you’re not on it.”
“Me, too.”
He leaned in and kissed her again. “Sally, I love you. I don’t know when I knew it, but it’s been a while, and I felt so terrible to be hurting you.”
“Hush, now. That’s done with. But I understand now why you acted the way you did.” Her face went deep pink. “I thank you, Johnny. I know now it wasn’t because you didn’t love me.” She touched his cheek and then gathered her skirts to climb down from the wagon.
When he had turned the horse out, he went inside. She had something simmering on the stove already. For the first time, he felt this was his home, and he had a right to be here.
She came out of the bedroom, and the black dress was gone. She was dressed in her new calico.
“You changed.” Immediately, he felt stupid for saying it.
“That was for Mark,” she said. “But it’s our wedding day. Our true wedding day. I’ll mourn Mark, but I don’t think I’ll wear that dress for him.” She went to the stove. “It’ll be a minute before this is hot. Could you get the leftover corn bread?”
He got it and set the table while Sally puttered around the stove.
“I want to have a headstone made for Mark,” he said.
She nodded soberly. “That would be nice.”
He filled their cups with fresh water and sat down. Sally brought over the stew kettle.
“I’ll fry up some chicken tonight, if you want to bring me one.”
“Sure.” Sort of a celebration dinner, he guessed, but neither of them said that. As they ate, they talked of unimportant things. The livestock, the garden. “Remember I said I ought to have a will?” Johnny said.
“Yes.”
“Now that I’m sure we’re legal, I think I’ll do it. Just in case.”
“Don’t talk about that.”
He took a few more bites and then laid down his spoon. “I think we should. They could hang me, Sally.”
Her lower lip began to tremble, and she put her hand to her mouth. “Do you have to bring it up now? I was doing pretty well.”
He let out a big sigh. “I need to think about taking care of you. What’ll you do if Sheriff Jackson locks me up?”
“I guess I’ll stay here and run this ranch.”
“I don’t know as you could do it by yourself.”
“Don’t start, John Paynter.”
She sounded angry, and he wasn’t sure he ought to pursue the topic. He only wanted what was best for her if the worst happened.
“I want you to be safe,” he said.
“If you’re going to be…gone…for a while…” She glared at him fiercely, and he kept his mouth shut. “Then I guess I’ll go and stay with my folks.”
“In Abilene,” he said.
“That’s right. Near there. If they lock you up, you go there when you get out and ask for Jeremiah Vane. Everyone knows my father there. Or you could send him a telegram. I’d come back.”
Johnny nodded, easier in his heart. “That sounds like a good plan. Because if I was gone long, you’d need to hire a couple of hands. It would probably be better if you sold off the stock.”
“All right, but that won’t happen.”
“Talk to Eph Caxton if it does, and tell him you need to sell the cattle. Him or Hector Gluck.”
“I will, but can we please stop talking about it?”
“Sure.”
She reached across the table and took his hand. “I love you, Johnny. No matter what, I’m going to stick with you, and I’ll do everything I can to make sure they treat you fair.”
“Thanks.” He understood why she hated talking about these things. Even thinking about it took away his appetite.
“I have an uncle,” Sally said more urgently, and he focused on her face. “He used to be a Texas Ranger.”
“So?”
“I wondered if it would do any good to contact him.”
“What could he do?”
“I don’t know.” She shook her head. “Probably nothing. It was just a thought. If there’s anything I can do to help, I want to do it. But…” She looked into his eyes intently. “Mostly I just want to be Mrs. John Paynter while I have the chance. Johnny, I don’t want to sleep alone tonight.”
He stared at her, mildly shocked that she would say it, but glad. He squee
zed her hand. “I reckon you won’t, unless maybe the sheriff comes out here before sundown.”
Sally awoke before dawn, at the rooster’s first crow. She was glad Fred Jackson hadn’t shown his face but felt slightly wicked for thinking that way. If the truth were told, she would be relieved when everything was settled, one way or another.
She sat up and looked at her husband. Johnny still slept, with that tousled little-boy look, and she smiled. She reached toward him, but before she could brush his hair back off his forehead, the rooster crowed again, and Johnny stirred. He opened one eye and looked at her. Slowly, he smiled and rolled onto his back.
“Good morning,” Sally said.
“I hope the sheriff stays away a long time.”
“I kind of hope that, too, but it’s too stressful. We need to know.”
“I guess you’re right.” He sighed and shoved the quilt back. “Thad Bollinger will tell Jackson I want to see him as soon as he gets back.”
Johnny went out to milk the cow while Sally fixed breakfast. Afterward, he shaved off his beard. She went about her housework, trying not to make a fuss about it, but she kept stealing glances while he worked in front of her small mirror.
At last he turned to face her, his face bare. “Well, Mrs. Paynter?”
She couldn’t help grinning as she walked toward him. “I married a very handsome man, sir. And you managed not to cut yourself.”
He wiped the last of the soap off and kissed her, and she ran her fingers through his hair. He squeezed her so hard she could barely breathe.
“Maybe you’ll let me trim your hair later,” Sally said.
“I might confuse the sheriff if I look too respectable.”
She tried not to think about the future too closely as she sewed and cooked that afternoon, alternately fretting and wanting to sing. Johnny stayed close to the home place, going from one small chore to another all day. At suppertime, they had heard nothing.
“I’d best ride into town tomorrow and see if the sheriff’s come back,” Johnny said that evening.
“Take me with you. Otherwise if he arrests you, I’ll be stuck here with no horse.”
“Guess it’s time to buy another. I wouldn’t want you stranded six miles from town.”
The Outlaw Takes a Bride Page 23
