I said awful things to you when you told me about the baby. Tonight, alone in our bedroom, I’m more sorry than I can say. If I had that moment to live again, I’d lift you in my arms and swing you around in a circle. Knowing you’re carrying my child is a joy to me. If it’s a boy, I’d like to name him after Silas. If it’s a girl, let’s name her after your mother. Dorothea Leaf has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?
So did Susanna Leaf. Maybe someday she’d call him Pa. He could only pray it wasn’t at his grave. Please God, let this cup pass from me…
But the die was cast. If talk failed and Ben raised a hand to Abbie or the kids, John would do what had to be done. If he could get off a shot, he’d send Ben to eternity. If not, he’d make a trade. And at last, the Leaf family curse would come to an end.
At the rustle of leaves on the path, John looked up to see Silas striding out of the pines. He came to a halt in front of John and threw the three letters on the ground. “You damned fool!” he bellowed.
John picked up the envelopes and glared at him. “Since when did you start reading other people’s mail?”
“You should have told me about Gantry. You owe the man amends, but he’s got no right to come after you like this. Vengeance belongs to the Lord—not to Ben, no matter how much he hurts. And not to you, no matter how guilty you feel. You have to fight for Abbie and the kids.”
Seething, John pushed to his feet. “Don’t you think I know that? I’ve done nothing but weigh the options, and it all comes out the same. I have to face Ben alone.”
"You’re just being prideful,” Silas said, crossing his arms. “You never did like asking for help.”
John gave a sad smile. “Maybe so, but right now I’d call in the U.S. cavalry if I thought it would save them. As it is, I’m dead sure it would make things worse.”
“Then you’ll have to think harder. Going after Gantry alone is too risky, even for you.”
“I know what I’m doing.” John clenched his jaw. “All that matters is my family. Abbie’s strong. No matter what happens to me, she’ll be all right.”
Silas gave him a look that seared his skin. “What about your daughter?”
“I’ve done my best.”
Silas’s eyes glimmered in the dark, and the pale blue of his shirt took on the hue of iron. He resembled a prophet from the days of old, threatening to call down a bolt of lightning with John as the target. His voice rumbled out of the dark. “You’re a fool if you think dying is the answer. Susanna led Gantry here. If you get yourself killed, she’s going to carry that guilt for the rest of her life.”
“It’s not her fault,” John insisted.
“Maybe not, but she’ll think it is. Put yourself in her place, John. How’d you like to walk around thinking you killed your own daddy?”
John had never told his friend about old Isaac, but in Silas’s eyes he saw a truth that turned his guilt to gold. The way to end the Leaf family curse wasn’t by dying, but by living well—by loving Abbie and raising four boys and the daughter they already had.
John didn’t need to explain the shift in his heart to Silas. The old man had always been able to read his mind. “We need a plan.”
Silas nodded. “Tell me about the canyon where they’re holed up.”
Crouching, John drew a diagram in the dirt, using twigs to block out the landscape. Silas tossed out an idea, but it needed three men to work. John searched for another option, but he couldn’t come up with one.
Silas looked him in the eye. “You know what you have to do.”
“Yeah,” John said. “I have to ask Lawton for help.”
Silas gave a low chuckle. “Let’s hope he shoots Gantry and not you.”
It didn’t take more than a minute to convince the judge to strap on a gun. Together the three men walked to the parsonage where they worked out the details of the plan. The strategy called for Lawton to position himself on the rim of the canyon where he’d have a shot at Gantry, and for Silas to hide near the shack so he could rescue Abbie and the kids. It was up to John to draw Gantry into the open, hopefully alone, though he had to consider the possibility that Ben would use Abbie or Susanna as a shield.
The prospect turned John’s stomach into jelly. He’d taken on Ed Davies knowing the man didn’t want to die. The opposite was true with Ben. John had no bargaining power except the knowledge that Ben wanted revenge, and that he’d regret it beyond measure if he took an innocent life. Somehow John had to convey that truth to the bitter man. It would be the hardest sermon he’d ever preached—and the riskiest. Faith told John he’d be eating breakfast with Abbie and the kids tomorrow, but beneath his black coat he was scared spitless.
Shortly after dawn, he set the letters to his family back on the kitchen table. He refused to let himself think the words “just in case.” Doubt went against his nature, but so did being unprepared. He’d written words of love that he wanted each of them to have—if not today then in the future.
After strapping on the Colt Lightning, he strode across the yard to the stable. The morning sun splashed gold across the horizon and reminded him of the ring he’d put on Abbie’s finger. Just above the glow he saw a slash of pink that made him think of Susanna and the baby yet to come.
He wanted to hold that child…and he would.
He wanted to see Susanna become a doctor…and he would.
And most of all, he wanted to ask Abbie to forgive him for his pride and unkind words.
John saddled his black mare and led her into the yard. Silas and Lawton were waiting on livery horses, one a gray and the other nearly white. Without a word, the three men rode down the trail he’d taken with Susanna two days ago.
John took strength from the picture they made. The preacher was wearing black, and so was the judge. The freed slave was wearing black, too, but only on his skin. The Book of Revelation talked about the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, but John figured three would have to do today. Grace, justice and freedom—they were riding side by side, yet someone was missing. John knew who it was. The fourth rider should have been Abbie, mounted on a snow-white horse and dressed in red—the color of love.
As soon as they reached the canyon, John reined in the mare. The moment called for a prayer that he said for them all. Silas and Lawton answered with their eyes and then rode off to take their places. When he was sure the two men had reached their positions, he rode alone down the trail. About thirty feet from the shack he dismounted and called out to Gantry.
“Ben, I’m here. Let’s talk.”
A rifle barrel poked out the window. “Say goodbye to your family, Leaf. It’s a privilege I never had, but I’m feeling merciful today.”
With the sun warm on his brow, John stared at the window. He needed to throw Gantry off balance, but there was a fine line between gaining the man’s interest and lighting fire to his hate. John prayed for wisdom and then spoke from his heart. “I wrote you a letter, Ben. I never mailed it, but I should have. I owe you more amends than I can ever make.”
The rifle wavered but then steadied. “I don’t give a crap about your goddamned conscience. You killed my boys!”
If he’d been alone, John would have walked up to Ben with his hands in the air and taken his chances. But he couldn’t do that with Abbie and the kids in danger. He had to lure Ben outside. “Come outside so you can see me. There’s something you need to know about that day.”
“What are you saying?”
“Come on out and I’ll tell you.”
“Just speak your piece.”
“They were heroes, Ben. They died trying to save each other. You can be proud.” Praying his words would be enough to draw the man outside, John kept his hand loose and ready.
“I don’t want to hear this crap!”
Before John could reply, the gun barrel disappeared and the door flew open. He saw Abbie sitting on the floor. Their gazes locked, but then Gantry stepped between them with his arm hooked around Susanna’s waist and a pistol at her temple
. Muttering curses, he dragged her into the yard. Standing still while his daughter kicked at her captor took all of John’s resolve, but he didn’t have a shot.
“Let her go, Ben. Shoot me dead, but don’t hurt a child. No matter what you think right now, you’ll hate yourself for it.”
Ben’s eyes flickered like chards of a mirror, giving John hope that he was seeing both the monster he’d become and the father he’d been to his boys. Knowing that Lawton needed a clear shot and that Silas needed time, John kept talking. “Your boys are in heaven, Ben. They’re with their ma and your folks. Even that old dog you had is with them. You’re going to see them again. Let that knowledge bring you a comfort that my blood can’t.”
When Ben’s pistol wavered, John prayed the man would lower the gun so they could all walk away. But a fresh burst of madness filled his eyes. “I want my boys now. Make that happen and I’ll let her go.”
“I’d take a bullet right now if it would bring them back, but it won’t.” John’s voice cracked with the weight of the truth. “I hate myself for what I did to you, Ben. I don’t know if anyone but God could forgive such a wrong, but I do know you’ll hate yourself if you harm a child. Let her go, Ben. Your fight is with me.”
Sweat beaded on the man’s brow, but his hand stayed steady as he cocked the hammer.
“Papa!”
Like a stone skimming across a pond, Susanna’s cry defied the laws of nature and gave John hope. All that mattered was saving her life and protecting Abbie from a mother’s deepest suffering.
Please God…give me words…
But there wasn’t time for more talk. He needed to reach Ben now. Knowing he was playing a game of chicken he had to win, John whipped the Colt from his belt and pressed the barrel to his own temple. “I don’t want to die, Ben, but I’m a father just like you. There’s no way I’ll let you hurt my daughter to get back at me. I’ll pull this trigger if I have to.”
Through a dreamlike haze, John saw Ben’s agony—the misery of smelling his own hate and finally the truth that killing another man’s child wouldn’t bring back his boys. But it wasn’t enough to make him lower the gun.
With sweat dripping down his temple, John felt the trigger hard against his finger. Life and death—it wasn’t his call and neither was it Ben’s. Praying for them all, John was willing him to feel a father’s love in place of the hate when a cry tore from the man’s throat. For no reason John could see, he lost his grip on Susanna and stumbled back. The sudden spin revealed Abbie, pounding at him with a rock and calling him names. Staggering or not, Gantry was still gripping the gun and Abbie was in point-blank range. John charged across the gap between them.
Please God… Please God…
Ten more steps and he’d have a hand on Ben. Another second he could strip the man of his weapon and Abbie would be safe. His breath chafed in his ears, blocking out the scrape of Gantry’s boots in the dirt, Abbie’s shouts, Susanna’s whimpers…everything except the blast of a bullet.
Abbie… His love… His heart…
As he charged forward, John begged God for mercy—for the call of Abbie’s voice, even a cry of pain to tell him she was alive, but all he heard was an unearthly wailing. Had Ben shot Abbie, or had Lawton fired at Ben? Either way, Gantry had dropped his weapon and was howling like a wild animal.
Not until he crumpled to his knees, revealing Abbie standing upright and clutching the promise rock, did John find his voice. “Are you all right?” he said to his wife.
Abbie stared at him as if she couldn’t believe he was alive. But then her green eyes flared. “I’m so damn mad at you I could scream!”
John had never seen a more beautiful sight than his very angry wife. With a small cry, she threw herself into his arms and sobbed. He hung on to her for dear life, treasuring the tears that were dampening his shirt and blinking back his own. “It’s over,” he said again and again. “It’s really over.”
Keeping one arm around Abbie, he looked for his daughter and found her already at his side. John pulled her into a hug and called for Robbie. The boy ran out of the shack and straight into his family’s arms. With their heads bent and their arms in a tangle, the four of them made a house of sorts, sheltering each other and the baby in Abbie’s womb.
They were clinging to each other and talking all at once when Ben moaned. Stepping back, John saw that Lawton had hit the man in the leg. Silas was tending to the wound, but it looked to John as if the bullet had struck bone. Ben would live, but he’d limp for the rest of his life. John crouched at his side. “I meant every word, Ben. I’d bring them back if I could.”
Gantry stared hard. “I believe you. I saw your eyes. You’d have pulled that trigger.”
“Maybe, but mostly I was trusting you’d remember how much you love your sons.” Knowing it offered only a pittance of comfort, John handed Ben the letter.
The older man took it and put it in his pocket. “I guess we’re done.”
“Yeah, I think so.”
As John stood, he spotted Lawton riding down the canyon. The old man leaped off the gray and ran toward Abbie and the kids. He hugged Robbie first, but then he pulled Susanna to his chest and kissed the top of her head. With his arms around both kids, he smiled at Abbie with pride.
John owed these men a debt he could never repay, but he could try. He put his arm around Abbie’s waist, touched her belly and looked into her eyes. “If it’s a boy, I’d like to call him Silas Lawton. What do you think?”
“It’s perfect,” she said.
But John noted Lawton’s scowl and Silas pushing to his feet and shaking his head no. The two men shared a glance and then leveled their gazes at John. The judge spoke for them both. “You name my grandson ‘John Junior,’ or you’ll be answering to me.”
Silas’s eyes twinkled. “Name the next one after us.”
For the first time, John Horatio Leaf liked the sound of his own name. Pulling Abbie into his arms, he kissed her temple. “Let’s make Julio’s ring come true.”
She turned in his arms and put her hand over his heart. “I’ll have to think about it. I’m still mad at you.”
“Oh, yeah?” He quirked a grin. “Just how mad are you?”
With her eyes sparkling and her fingers knotted in his shirt, she replied, “I’m positively furious.”
Win, lose or draw—there’s wasn’t anything John liked better than that kind of fight. Tipping his face to the heavens, he thanked God for the woman made just for him.
Epilogue
Midas, New Mexico
October 1897
My Dearest Husband,
We’ve just returned from our first trip to Washington in ten years. I can smell the diesel from the train clinging to my hair, and my ears are ringing with the chatter of our three young sons. I’m so glad you insisted on visiting Robbie at college, but the trip was so much more. As our train chugged into the station, the autumn leaves were ablaze and so was my heart. Looking at you and our boys, I felt nothing but joy.
When we visited the house that now belongs to Robbie, you were at my side, holding my hand. I hugged Maggie and laughed myself silly. I walked in the garden and marveled at the birds. I showed you the ravens and the cardinals, the flower beds I’d planted and the dogwood tree that had grown taller than the house. Not surprisingly, the garden was lovely in spite of the season. Countless women have tended the flowers and listened to the birds just as I used to do. It’s a place of healing now.
My own journey began in that spot, but it didn’t end until I found you again. You’re my protector, my friend, my lover…my hero. I tell you every day that I love you, but somehow that’s not enough today. I want to give you a letter you can read over and over, just like I treasure the letter you wrote to me before you faced Ben.
You don’t know this, but I’ve read parts of it to each of our sons.
John Jr. heard it first. He was a week old and squalling all the time. He had to be the hungriest baby I’ve ever had. In the middle of t
he night, I’d hold him against my chest, set your letter by the lamp and read it in a mother’s hushed tone. He’s ten years old now and so much like you it scares me. He’s got your heart and your will—good things to be sure. He also has your quick wit. I suspect you two will tangle when he gets a little older…after all, it’s the way of fathers and sons.
The twins heard the letter next. Silas and Law wore me out that first year—and you, too! Did we sleep at all while they were teething? Then there was that awful week when they had whooping cough and we nearly lost them. I read your letter over and over. Your confidence that our family will always be together—for now and eternity—gave me strength.
Robbie might be Bert to you, but he’s still a boy to me. Someday I’ll share your letter with him, too. Maybe on his wedding day, though it may not come for some time. He’s far more interested in inventing things than he is in girls…or so it seems!
And that leaves Susanna. I’m going to share the letter with her tonight. She’s in love, John. You don’t like the man who has stolen her heart, but I do. Rafe looks at her with the same longing I still see in your eyes for me. And she looks at him the way I looked at you when I was seventeen…the way I still do and always will. Nothing can separate our hearts—not the petty annoyances that come with sharing a house, not the big problems that come with raising children. No matter what the future holds, I will always hear your voice in the rippling stream. I’ll feel your strength when I stand beneath the oak. I’ll imagine the dip of your head on our pillow and see your love in the faces of our children.
Beloved husband, you are mine!
Your loving wife,
Abbie
ISBN: 978-1-4592-4013-1
ABBIE’S OUTLAW
Copyright © 2005 by Vicki Scheibel
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
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