Abbie's Outlaw

by Victoria Bylin

  John glanced at Abbie, silently asking her if she wanted to include Robbie in the conversation. She had questions of her own, so she said, “We all need to understand the circumstances.”

  John grimaced. “I’m not sorry I interrupted the ceremony yesterday, but I shouldn’t have asked your father to marry us in the first place. Anyhow, I apologized for the upset, but he didn’t want to hear it.”

  “It’s water under the bridge,” Abbie replied.

  Robbie looked up at John. “He’s pretty mad, but I’m glad you spoke up for my ma. She’s smart. You should listen to her.”

  John looked at Robbie with a hint of male conspiracy. “Let me tell you a secret. Your ma is the smartest woman I know. We should both listen to her, except about eating creamed turnips.”

  “And grits—I hate grits,” Robbie added.

  All three of them laughed, then John turned serious as he faced Robbie. “Now I have a question for you. Do you remember saying you wanted to be called Robert instead of Robbie?”

  The boy nodded. “I like Bert even better.”

  “Then Bert it is. You stood up for your mother and me. It meant a lot to both of us.”

  Robbie beamed a smile. “I like Bert, but Robbie’s okay, too. Since we’re staying here, my ma says you can teach me how to shoot. Can we start right now?”

  John looked at Abbie who nodded her permission. “It’s okay with me, but be careful—both of you.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” John replied. After sharing a look with Robbie—one she suspected included some eye-rolling—her husband kissed her cheek. “You can watch if you’d like.”

  But Abbie shook her head. She had to make up her old room for Susanna. Any day now their daughter would arrive.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Robbie had the worst aim John had ever seen. They had gone to a field on the far side of the parsonage and were shooting at cans on a stump. Robbie was having a heck of a time aiming the gun. After a half hour of bullets straying in the dirt, John was convinced the boy needed spectacles.

  “Remember to use two hands,” he said. “Point at the middle of the first can and pull the trigger gently.” The bullet missed the target by a mile. So did the next five shots.

  “Rats!” declared Robbie.

  “It’ll get easier,” John said. “Want to see how it’s done?”

  Robbie’s eyes popped wide. “Sure.”

  “You know what to do.”

  John supervised as the boy turned the cylinder and pushed the ejector rod to remove each of the spent casings. After they had all plinked to the ground, Robbie handed him the weapon. John filled the six chambers with bullets from his gunbelt, took aim and blasted the cans to kingdom come. Showing off for Robbie, he twirled the gun and holstered it.

  A familiar voice boomed across the yard. “Not bad for a preacher,” called Silas.

  John’s gaze locked on the girl walking at his friend’s side. Dressed in trousers and a denim shirt, she could have been John at the same age. She had a coltish build that matched his lanky frame and the same brown eyes he saw in the mirror when he shaved. Even her eyebrows were like his. The dark slashes had a winglike flare that made her look bold enough to take on the world. At the sight of her cropped hair, John stifled a smile. She’d tucked it behind her ears, emphasizing the stubborn chin she’d inherited from her mother. He had thought about this moment for days and had rehearsed what he planned to say.

  Hello, Susanna. I understand we have a lot in common.

  But looking at her now, he couldn’t find his voice. He remembered what Abbie had said about holding her baby girl for the first time. That same awe filled John now. That Susanna was nearly an adult only made his love deeper because so much had been lost.

  He unbuckled his gunbelt and handed it to Robbie. “Put this on the workbench and get your ma.”

  The boy called a greeting to his sister and ran off. John approached Susanna more slowly, giving her time to look at him. He wanted to do more than nod at her, but he hadn’t earned the privilege, so he greeted Silas with a back-slapping hug. “It’s good to see you, old man.”

  “I imagine it is.” Stepping back, Silas nodded at Susanna. “I brought someone who wants to meet you.”

  John held out his hand. “Hello, Susanna. I’m glad you’re here.”

  She glared at his fingers and then at his face. John held the pose for five seconds and then lowered his hand. The rejection stung no less because he understood it. Knowing she wanted honesty, he said, “You’re going to hear the truth—every last word. Most of it’s pretty ugly.”

  As her eyebrows lifted with surprise, the front door burst open and Abbie came running down the steps. “Thank God…thank God…”

  At the echo of her mother’s voice, Susanna’s face crumpled into a sob. Turning, she ran and flung herself into Abbie’s arms. Hugging and weeping, the two females blurred into one as moisture pushed into John’s eyes. He could almost feel Abbie’s desire for another child, but Silas’s presence was a grim reminder of John’s past. He was about to ask about Ben Gantry when Robbie scuffed his boot in the dirt for attention. John motioned for him to come closer. “Women cry when they’re happy,” he said. “It’s something men have to get used to.”

  When Robbie smiled, John gave him a manly slap on the back. At the same moment, Susanna turned and saw the affection. When her eyes narrowed with anger, John understood why. She’d played second fiddle to Robbie for years, and she was feeling the same way now. He’d have to change that impression as soon as he could.

  With Abbie focused on Susanna, John turned to Silas. “‘Thank you’ isn’t enough for what you’ve done.”

  The old man pursed his lips and tried to look tough. “She’s a fine young woman, John. You take care of her and her ma, or you’ll be answering to me.”

  John smiled at the bluster. “You don’t have to worry. Abbie and I got married yesterday.”

  Chuckling, Silas replied, “She must be a remarkable woman to put up with the likes of you.”

  “She is, but I’m worried. What’s Gantry up to these days?”

  Silas shook his head. “This isn’t the time. You and I need to talk in private.”

  But John didn’t want to wait. Ever since the wedding, he’d been sensing hell on the horizon. “Tell me now.”

  Silas had just started to reply when John spotted Judge Moore charging down the path from town. The man looked like a steam engine about to blow, and he was headed straight for Abbie and Susanna. John strode across the yard, but Lawton reached the women first.

  “What the devil is going on?” he demanded. “I’m at the café, and I see my granddaughter dressed like a boy and walking around with a negro!”

  John had no patience with that kind of talk. He was about to tell Lawton to take a hike when Susanna pushed away from Abbie and stood tall in front of her grandfather.

  “His name is Silas. He’s good and kind, and you’re a hateful old man.”

  Lawton twisted his mouth into a sneer. “You’re shameless, young lady! You should never have been born.”

  If the judge hadn’t been Robbie’s grandfather, John would have slammed his fist into his jaw and repented later. Instead he settled for poking him in the chest. “Listen up, Lawton. You will apologize to my daughter right now. And while you’re at it, you can politely thank Mr. Jones for bringing her home.”

  The judge’s gaze darted from John to Susanna and back to John. “You son of a bitch! You’re the bastard who knocked up my Abigail!”

  Knowing it would gall the judge, John quirked a smile. “Yes, sir. I’m Susanna’s father and proud to claim her. But I take exception to your crude language. You owe my wife an apology, too.”

  John didn’t expect to hear one. But neither was he prepared for the slam of Lawton’s fist against his jaw. Pain shot to his ear, but he didn’t fight back. As long as Abbie and Susanna were out of harm’s way, he preferred to turn the other cheek. Rubbing his jaw, he said, “I think that settl
es it.”

  But Lawton hauled back and took another swing. This time, John sidestepped. “There’s no point to this, Judge. I won’t fight you.”

  Sputtering with rage, Lawton shouted, “You’re despicable! How dare you call yourself a man of Gaw-awd!”

  John felt a sermon coming on about Christ loving the lowest of the low, but he decided to save it for Sunday. Lecturing the judge wouldn’t help anyone, but neither could he bring himself to love this particular neighbor as himself. Knowing he might regret it, he goaded the old man with a smirk.

  “I’m not a perfect man, Judge. And neither are you. Your breath can stink as bad as anyone’s.”

  When Lawton’s eyes bulged, John realized the judge had taken that last comment personally—not as the general observation of human failing that John had intended. There wasn’t a person on earth who didn’t fall short, including John. But Lawton had missed that point. All he’d heard was an insult.

  “I’m going have you barred from the pulpit!” raged the older man.

  If it would have done any good, John would have explained himself, but Lawton really did have bad breath and a possible friendship was a lost cause. “Go ahead and try,” he said with a shrug.

  Lawton strode back to town, leaving them all stunned and silent. John steered his gaze first to Abbie, who looked like a fan at a prize fight, and then to Susanna who resembled a frightened deer. Robbie had taken a protective position by his mother, while Silas was standing behind John and chuckling softly. “You’re as ornery as ever,” he said. “Maybe even worse.”

  John rubbed his jaw. “Only when it comes to people I love.” He looked at Susanna, hoping to see camaraderie in her eyes. But instead of the tomboy who had defended Silas, he saw a child…who had just discovered that her mother had married a man she despised.

  As she looked across the yard at John Leaf, Susanna’s insides started to shake. He’d gone toe to toe with her horrid grandfather and she had wanted to cheer. But he’d also killed children…and married her mother. Susanna jerked out of her mother’s grasp. “You married him?”

  “Yes, sweetie. I did. We have a lot to talk about.”

  Susanna couldn’t imagine what her mother would say. Why hadn’t they waited for her? Did this mean they weren’t going back to Washington? Susanna felt like a passenger on a runaway train. “I just wanted to see what he looked like,” she cried. “I hate him! He killed children and he left you in Kansas.”

  Her mother turned pale. “It’s not like that, Susanna.”

  “I don’t believe you. You’ve lied to me about everything.”

  “Yes, I did,” Abbie said. “But we’re starting over—right now—with the truth. You can be angry, but we’re not keeping any more secrets.”

  The confidence in her mother’s voice threw Susanna even more off balance. In Washington, her mother would have gone limp with guilt—but not today. She had a look that left no room for discussion. Susanna almost bolted out of the yard, but she had nowhere to go. Her gaze landed on Silas who was holding the satchel she’d dropped when she’d seen her mother. Next to Silas stood the Reverend, wearing his black coat and rubbing his jaw. Her grandfather had hit him hard. It had to hurt, but Susanna didn’t care.

  After lowering his hand, the Reverend turned to her brother. “Robbie, take Silas for ice cream at Mary’s.”

  “Sure.”

  Shocked to the core, Susanna stared at Robbie. Her brother never did what he was asked. If he liked John Leaf, she had another reason to hate him. Silas crossed the yard and handed her the satchel. His eyes were full of understanding, but they also held the same challenge to listen that she’d seen on top of the stagecoach.

  As Robbie and Silas walked away, John Leaf looked at her mother. Even before he spoke, something private passed between them. She didn’t like it at all.

  “Go and buy whatever she needs,” he said to her mother in a hushed tone.

  “No!” Susanna cried. She didn’t want to be alone with him. She wasn’t ready to open the satchel and ask him questions. Her feelings were too confused.

  Her mother glanced at her and then back to the Reverend. “Maybe I should stay.”

  Robert Windsor would have glowered, but John Leaf’s expression was full of kindness. “We’ll be fine, Abbie. Don’t worry.”

  When her mother looked into his eyes with trust, Susanna felt betrayed. Somehow by searching for her father she’d lost mother, who was looking at her now with pity. “Sweetie, I’ll be right back.”

  Susanna knew her mother wanted to hug her, but she kept her arms at her sides until Abbie hurried down the path to town. Susanna was staring at her mother’s back when the Reverend walked to the porch and sat on the steps. He looked right at her. “You must be hating all of us right now,” he said gently.

  He could have been taking to a lamb, but Susanna felt trapped. If she said yes, she’d be agreeing with him. If she said no, she’d be saying she wasn’t mad. She decided to say nothing. Maybe if she didn’t move, he’d go in the house and leave her alone.

  Instead he leaned down and plucked a weed out of the flower bed. “I know how I’d feel in your place. I’d be furious. You went looking for me because you needed answers, and now the questions have changed.”

  Susanna peered into his eyes and saw a strength of mind she recognized as her own. She had started the fight with her grandfather, but he’d finished it. That counted for something, but she didn’t know what. She was searching for something to say when the Reverend’s eyes twinkled. “Can I ask you something?”

  “All right.”

  “Do you put a lot of pepper on your food?”

  How did he know? Susanna loved black pepper. Robert Windsor used to get mad at her because he thought it wasn’t ladylike. Susanna had a taste for spicy food, but she didn’t want to say so. Neither did she want to lie, so she asked a question of her own. “Did my mother tell you that?”

  John Leaf shook his head. “No, I was just wondering. I put pepper on everything. My old man did the same thing. It used to scare me that I liked pepper so much. I thought it meant I was just like him.”

  “Are you?” Susanna had blurted the question before she could think. “I mean, do you look like him?”

  “Not much.” The Reverend twirled the dandelion between his fingers. “You and I take after my ma. She had some Lakota blood in her. She walked off when I was nine years old.”

  In spite of her anger, Susanna felt sorry for him. “Was your father nice?”

  He tossed the weed back into the dirt. “Isaac Leaf was the meanest man that ever walked this earth. I hated him, Susanna. That’s why I understand how you feel.”

  Of all the stupid things, tears pushed into her eyes. She looked pointedly down the path leading to town, but she knew she had reached the end of the road. When the lump in her throat eased, she faced him again. “I have Robert Windsor’s file on you. It says you killed children.”

  “I did.”

  “Silas says you’ve changed.”

  “I have.”

  The Reverend looked at the satchel in her hand. “Do you want to show me those reports now?”

  The weight of the bag pulled at her shoulder. She longed to put it down, but she needed time to sort through her feelings. She also wanted to talk to her mother before she confronted John Leaf. To change the subject, she said, “I’m kind of hungry.”

  His eyes brightened. “Have you ever had a tamale? Mrs. Garcia brought a whole pan this morning. They’re spicy enough to burn off your tongue.”

  Susanna had discovered tamales in Colorado. She loved them, but she shrugged. “They’re okay.”

  He stood and held the door for her. As she walked into the house, she glanced at the fireplace. On the wooden mantel stood a double picture frame holding her photograph and one of John Leaf. Had she come home at last? She didn’t know, but she liked tamales enough to give him a chance.

  At the crackle of packages in Abbie’s arms, John pushed up from the chai
r and opened the back door for her. He and Susanna had managed to spend an hour talking about food, Silas’s milk cow and finally the weather. He’d been on edge the whole time, expecting her to accuse him with the Pinkerton reports, but she had left the satchel on the floor unopened. To John, it felt like a bag of snakes.

  Abbie’s arrival brought pure relief. So did her smile when she set the packages on the table next to the empty tamale pan. “Did you eat them all?”

  “Every bite,” John said. “You two need some time. When Silas gets back, tell him I’m in the stable.”

  Susanna picked up the pan and put it on the counter as if she felt at home. John figured they had made a start, but he didn’t envy Abbie the next few hours. Untangling the past would take time, and children could be unforgiving. So could adults, especially when they’d been wronged in the way John had hurt Ben Gantry.

  After releasing Abbie’s hand, he turned to Susanna. “See you later.”

  She nodded, which he took for a good end to a hard morning.

  He needed to clean the Colt after Robbie’s shooting lesson, so he walked into the stable and pulled a stool up to the workbench where he kept his cleaning tools. He had just disassembled the pistol when Silas walked through the door. He pulled up another stool and sat straight. Peering down at the weapon, he said, “Are you still as good as you were?”

  John rammed the cleaning rod down the barrel. “Do I need to be?”

  “I hope not, but Ben’s headed this way.”

  As Silas summarized the events in Bitterroot, John wiped the lead from the rifling. With each twist of the rod, he felt a lash of guilt. His family was in danger, and it was all his fault.

  When Silas finished the story, he frowned. “You’ve got a mess on your hands. What are you going to do about it?”

  “I’m going to be ready to protect my family.”

  Silas motioned at the Colt. “With that?”

  As a boy in Georgia, Silas had been whipped half to death, and at Bull Run he’d witnessed a bloodbath. John knew how his friend felt about violence.