Once an Outlaw

by Raine Cantrell

  Every womanly instinct came alive in alarm and urged her to run. Jessie felt her insides turn to mush. Mush that seeped right through her legs. She trembled where she stood and swore to herself that her boots were all that kept her standing. The next breath she drew added the reek of whiskey to the overpowering smell.

  A hand touched her shoulder. She hunched over, trying to make herself smaller, wishing she had more courage, and the strength to move away.

  “Ain’t gonna hurt you none, little lady. Jus’ wanna have some fun. Turn so’s I can see what I got for myself.”

  The man had a gravelly voice, slightly slurred. Jessie thought of all that bold sass she had when faced with Logan. She could use a little of it now. But Logan had never truly made her afraid of him. This man, briefly touching her shoulder again, did.

  Cowering would only make him take a firm hold of her. She would do almost anything to avoid that. Jessie turned around.

  Eyes the color of sage and as lifeless met her gaze. The corner of the man’s mouth lifted in a lopsided smile.

  Jessie shivered and pressed back against the shelves. When he shoved a ragged army hat back on his head, he revealed a narrow scar that ran from his hairline down across his eyebrow. His face was rough with a thick growth of dark whiskers that added to his unsavory appearance. He was taller than Logan, broad through the chest and shoulders, and filled her immediate vision.

  “Silas?” Jessie called.

  “He’s busy, little lady.”

  Jessie couldn’t respond.

  “Zach? Where’d ya go?”

  Jessie tried to peer over his shoulder to see who spoke, but her legs were shaking so badly she couldn’t stand on tiptoe.

  “Look what I found us, Billy Jack.”

  “No. You haven’t found anything, mister. Step aside.” Jessie attempted to infuse the words with force, but her mouth was so dry they came out a whisper.

  The front door was only a few feet away. Jessie glanced from the door to the man and saw that the second one had rested his chin on his friend’s shoulder and was grinning at her.

  “Ai, caramba, a woman worth having.”

  Heat stole into Jessie’s cheeks, not a blush of temper but one of shame. No man had ever looked at her with lust shining in his eyes. She tried to inch her way past them.

  Zach moved to block her, leaving the other man swaying on his feet.

  “Ah, Zach, you’re a true amigo to share such bounty with me. I drink to you.” Billy Jack lifted the bottle he held and drank deeply.

  Jessie’s eyes grew wide and round as he swallowed what appeared to her to be an enormous amount of liquor until the whiskey ran down his chin. A backhanded swipe sent drops flying.

  Nausea churned in her stomach. The swarthy skin of his neck was ringed with dirt, like the ragged edges of the nails on his blunt fingers.

  Where was Silas? Surely he was aware of what these men were doing? She wished she could believe they only meant to taunt her, but there was that look in the second man’s dark eyes, the one called Billy Jack, that twisted her belly into a cold knot of fear.

  With one in front of her and the other man at her side, Jessie didn’t know which one to watch. Zach reached out to touch her again and she batted his hand away, only to have her hat snatched by Billy Jack.

  “Never have I seen such hair. Take it down for me, señorita. Take it down now.”

  Jessie lunged for the hat. Too late she understood the gleam of laughter in Billy Jack’s eyes. Taking her hat was a ploy that brought her out of the corner where she had the shelves at her back.

  Billy Jack dared her to try for the hat with a look from his bloodshot eyes. Jessie couldn’t meet his gaze. Her fear increased the more she looked at his face. Lowering her gaze beyond the fancy worked-silver conchas on his open vest, she saw that he wore a tarnished silver belt buckle. His taunt to come and get her hat distracted her.

  Laughing, Billy Jack sidestepped another attempt to grab the hat. He held it high and out of her reach. “Ah, such a brave señorita!” Making a mocking bow, he added, “I salute your bravery!” Once more he raised the bottle to his lips, but his eyes never left her.

  Jessie sensed more than felt Zach slip behind her. She realized that she still clutched the coffeepot and acted without thinking. She swung it backward in a wide arc. Zach’s grunt added courage to her depleted store.

  She kicked back and knew by his bellow that her boot heel had found its mark. Zach grabbed her hair, yanking her head back, and Jessie screamed. The coffeepot fell from her hand and landed with a solid thunk on the floor. Her second scream died before she gave it voice. Billy Jack loomed close, so near that she squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath as the fumes of liquor and his foul breath flowed over her face.

  “Open your eyes, señorita. We will drink a little an’ my friend, he will play music for us. You will dance for me, no?”

  Jessie set her lips, gritting her teeth behind them. Tears burned behind her closed lids, but she fought not to cry. Pain lanced her scalp from Zach’s grip on her hair, and fear had turned her bone marrow to water.

  Billy Jack caught hold of her chin. “Open your eyes.” When she didn’t obey him, he put the bottle to her lips, tilting it so the liquor ran over her mouth.

  Jessie felt his thumb pressing the corner of her mouth, forcing her lower lip open. She tried struggling, but stopped the moment she felt their bodies press even tighter against hers. Their laughter changed, turning darker, more threatening. The bite of whiskey made her eyes water and she gagged when it trickled into her mouth. She managed to twist her head to the side, taking the bottle from her lips. The jerky motion sent liquor spraying over her before Billy Jack yanked the bottle upright.

  Whether he staggered or suddenly lost his balance, Jessie felt the press of Billy Jack’s body ease away, and in an unexpected move she brought up her hand and slammed the bottle from his.

  The air turned blue with his swearing. Zach slung his arm around her, locking her arms to her sides, his grip beneath her breasts so tight her rib cage felt bruised. Her hair came loose, but couldn’t shield her from the sound of Zach’s heavy breathing filling her ear. Inwardly she cringed to feel Billy Jack’s fingers toying with the top button of her shirt. Jessie’s eyes flew open. It was worse to imagine those dirty fingers touching her skin.

  Two buttons went flying with a quick, hard pull, and only Zach’s arm stopped Billy Jack from ripping more from her shirt.

  She was dizzy and faint with the fumes of liquor rising from the floor, her clothes and their breath.

  “Blackleg!” Billy Jack yelled. “Play for us. The lovely señorita has agreed to dance for me.” Touching a handful of her hair, he jerked his head toward the arched opening where the sounds of a harmonica filled the air. “Vamos, amigo. I grow tired of this playing.” He spun on his boot heel and disappeared into the saloon.

  Jessie dreaded going in there. She no longer hoped that Silas would do something to stop them. If only someone would come into the store. The pressure from Zach’s arm eased and for a moment hope flared that he was going to let her go. In the next moment she felt his open hand cup her breast. Her cry was cut off. Zach slid his other hand into her hair, twisting her head to the side, and kissed her.

  Shuddering with revulsion, Jessie kept her lips sealed against the pressure of his tongue seeking entrance. Bile burned her throat. She tried to get her arm free, her fingers curling into claws, ready to defend the second she had the chance. Abruptly, Zach let her go but shoved her toward the opening. Jessie caught hold of the rough brick edge to keep her balance. The few moments’ respite showed her the other three men sprawled in chairs around one table. Behind the bar, no more than roughly cut planks set on overturned barrels, stood a watchful Silas.

  The man playing the harmonica changed to a lively tune. The Indian woman, sitting on another’s lap, never once turned to look at her. Jessie felt the nudge that Zach gave her, but she couldn’t make herself take a step.

&nb
sp; “If you let them get away with this, Silas, I’ll rouse every law-abiding person in town to run you out.”

  “If you’re still alive to talk,” Zach whispered from behind her.

  Billy Jack started for her. A man kicked his chair back and rose. The stub of a cigar hung from his mouth. Jessie didn’t know why her gaze fastened on him, but it did. He moved quickly to intercept Billy Jack, speaking to him in what she thought was Spanish, and when talking didn’t work, he sent him staggering toward the bar with a hard shove. Then he turned on Zach.

  “Get the hell in here. Alone.” Monte didn’t worry that Zach wouldn’t obey, so he didn’t bother to look at him.

  The music stopped. Jessie kept staring at the man with the cigar.

  Monte avoided the woman’s eyes. He didn’t spare more than a glance at the way she clutched her shirt together. Shaking his head, he knew he had no choice. He didn’t want to kill her, and he knew it would come to that to keep her quiet. Having questions raised, or some do-gooder out hunting them, would have the boss tearing strips out of his hide. On the other hand, denying Billy Jack what he wanted could be worse than stepping into a nest of riled rattlers.

  Taking the cigar out of his mouth, Monte made up his mind. He walked over to her. “Ma’am, I’m real sorry this happened. My boys got carried away havin’ a little fun.”

  “Boys,” Jessie hissed. Free of the fear that had gripped her, she lit into him. “They’re not boys. They’re animals. They belong locked up and—”

  “Now, you’re just a mite upset—”

  “I’m not a mite upset, mister. I’m furious. Those men attacked me.”

  “Now, now, Miz Winslow,” Silas said, hurrying toward her. “Don’t carry on so. You ain’t been hurt none.”

  Jessie looked at the Indian woman, thinking that she saw resignation in her dark eyes, but then the woman looked away. She focused on Silas. “You wouldn’t know what hurts a woman, you miserable excuse for a man.”

  “Now, you hold on. You ain’t got no cause to talk to me like that. Mr. Wheeler here stopped them before any harm was done.”

  Trembling, Jessie refused to back down. She wasn’t going to let Silas or this man get away so easily. “No harm was done? I beg to differ. My shirt’s ripped. I smell like a brewery. I’ve been mauled and spoken to in language that shamed me and you think no harm’s been done. Let me tell you something, Silas, folks around here won’t take kindly to hearing that I was attacked in your store.”

  Monte stepped closer and grabbed her upper arm with a sharp biting grip that forced her hand to release the torn edges of her shirt. Giving her a little shake, he spoke softly. “You listen and listen good. You’re gonna get paid for your clothes, an’ whatever the hell else you came in here to buy, then you’re gonna leave and keep your mouth shut or I’ll turn Billy Jack loose on you. Understand?”

  Before Jessie could form an answer, a man called out for Silas. Jessie sagged against the wall. It was David.

  “Over here,” Silas called out, shooting her a spiteful smile.

  Jessie had wished for a rescue. She ignored Monte pressing closer and taking hold of her other arm as she turned to look at David. His normally pleasant features wore a horrified expression as he took in her disheveled state. She knew before he spoke that there would be no help coming from him. And who could blame David? He wasn’t a match for these men. He didn’t even wear a gun.

  “Jessie? What’s going on here? What are you doing with these men?” Clutching a split ax handle, he came closer. “My God, you’ve been drinking!”

  “This your husband?” Monte asked.

  Jessie barely shook her head. She felt so ashamed when David burst out in loud denial. And she wouldn’t worry over making the decision about marrying him now. David likely wouldn’t have her to wife.

  “Mister,” Monte said, holding Jessie tight in warning, “you got business with Silas, then tend to it an’ leave the little lady to me an’ my friends.”

  “But, Jessie—”

  “Come along, David,” Silas urged, taking hold of his arm.

  For a few moments more, Jessie held David’s gaze and her silence. She didn’t want to see him hurt, and these men would do that. But it pained her that, while he appeared confused, he demanded nothing more by way of explanation. Could he truly think so little of her that he believed she was willingly in the company of men like this? If it had been Logan coming through that door, Jessie had no doubt what his reaction would have been. Logan would not have bothered to ask her questions. He wouldn’t believe what surface appearances revealed. Monte would be flat on his back, while the others—Oh, stop it! she admonished herself. Wishing and hoping isn’t getting you out of this.

  She hung her head as Monte stepped back but didn’t release her. Silas hurried to usher David to the other side of the store.

  “You didn’t answer me, lady.”

  “I just want to get out of here.”

  “Not good enough,” Monte stated. “I want your word you ain’t gonna make any trouble. Although,” he said, glancing at the floor where he picked out gold coins and a coffeepot, “if that fella’s what you got around here calling themselves men, I ain’t got much to worry about.”

  She didn’t bother to answer. Any threats she made would be empty ones.

  “If you’re smart, lady, you won’t get folks riled over a little fun. They’ve been hard up for liquor and a pretty woman. Can’t blame them none.”

  The tone of his voice warned Jessie she faced a new threat. Much as it galled her to beg, she did so. “Please, mister, all I want to do is collect what I came for and get out. Just keep those men away from me.”

  She heard approaching footsteps and looked to see David. Whatever conclusion he’d come to, whatever Silas had told him, he didn’t hesitate, but left the store without looking at her.

  It was only then that Monte stepped away from her to allow her passage to the store. “Silas, you give the woman whatever she wants an’ I’ll settle up with you.”

  Jessie held tight to the counter. She couldn’t stop shaking. The music started up again and she blocked out the sound and Silas’s insistence that she was a fool not to take the man’s offer. Staring straight ahead, but unable to focus, Jessie found herself thinking that the man called Billy Jack wore a large tarnished silver belt buckle, but the initial L was engraved over a coil of rope. The initial could be the man’s last name, but it could be Logan’s buckle. Logan said men were looking for him. These had to be the same ones. They had shot him, robbed him and left him for dead. They had attacked her.

  And there was no law to call upon.

  With a rough shake of her head, she set aside her thoughts. She had to get out of there and quickly. But Silas was right. She was being a fool to refuse to let them pay for everything.

  “You’ve made your point and convinced me, Silas. I need a coffeepot, a rope and—” she paused, scanning the shelves behind him “—that hat. I want the black one, too.”

  “You already got a hat, Miz—”

  “I want a new one.”

  Taking it down, he said, “It’s too big for you.”

  Jessie snatched it from his hand. “I’ll take it anyway. Two new shirts, and a red bandanna.” Pursing her lips while Silas scurried to get them for her, she tried to keep calm. If she didn’t think about what had happened, she wouldn’t be sick.

  When Silas returned and set the shirts with the folded bandanna on top of her sack, Jessie leaned closer. “And I want two bottles of whiskey.”

  “Whiskey? You want—”

  “For medicinal purposes, Silas.” Holding her hand out, Jessie had no need to fake the trembling.

  The hat was too large for her—it covered her brows—but Jessie left it on. Carrying the two bottles, she followed Silas out of the store and waited for him to saddle the brown horse. She kept promising herself that she wouldn’t cry. And she vowed to find a way not to tell Logan what had happened.

  Silas led the horse to
where she stood. “You know this ain’t happened before. You musta done something to get that man all het up about you.”

  Eyeing him as if he was an ant she’d enjoy stepping on, Jessie set aside her feelings to latch on to what he said about those men.

  “They’ve come here before?”

  “A time or two. Womenfolk don’t come in the store when they see their horses out front. Smart women, that is. Decent ones that ain’t looking to hook onto a man any way they can.”

  “Smart women, Silas? Or women that know their men haven’t got any backbone?”

  “Ain’t gonna jaw with you over this. You want I should thank Mr. Wheeler for you?”

  “Tell him to go to hell. And tell him there are plenty of woodsheds around here if he wants to teach his boys some manners.”

  Stepping up into the saddle, Jessie knew that Silas wouldn’t repeat a word that she said. Taking hold of the spare horse’s reins, she rode out.

  She managed to keep her brave front almost halfway home. She couldn’t stand the way her skin felt as if things were crawling over it. She pulled rein and slid from Adorabelle’s back. The nausea rose and Jessie fell to her knees. She remained there until the heaving stopped.

  How was she going to face Logan?

  Taking the top from her canteen, she rinsed her mouth. She slid the strap over the saddle horn and looked down at herself. Her shirt gaped open. Dirt smudges showed on her white camisole. She couldn’t stand having the whiskey-soaked clothes on for one more moment. Grabbing one of the new shirts, she cast a hurried look around. A lizard watched from the top of a small pile of boulders. Stripping off her shirt and camisole, Jessie bundled them and shoved them into a crevice of the rock. The new shirt was a coarse weave but it didn’t smell.

  Tucking the tails into her skirt, she eyed the top of the whiskey bottle poking out from her saddlebag.

  “Medicinal purposes, hell,” she muttered, taking hold of the bottle. Someone had told her that men got a false sense of courage from whiskey. Jessie didn’t care what kind of courage it was. She needed something to help her face Logan and lie to him.