ANNIE AND THE OUTLAW

by Sharon Sala

  "Does that mean you're leaving me?" Annie asked, and then clasped her hands in front of her like a child waiting to be chastised. What she'd overheard had made her panic.

  She couldn't lose Gabe. Not now, when so much depended on his strength.

  Gabe bolted to his feet, then grabbed her by the arms, raking his gaze across her face and then down her body to assure himself that she was really there.

  "I didn't mean I'd been too long with you, Annie. That's not what I meant." He stopped there, unable to explain any further. And then he realized she'd come home from the hospital … without his aid.

  "How did you get home? Why didn't you call? I would have come for you."

  Annie sighed and spread her hands in defeat. "I wasn't sure if you would even talk to me, Gabe, never mind play chauffeur. I called Davie. He and Charlotte brought me home."

  He took her in his arms. Unable to hide his pain when she relaxed against him, he groaned softly and pressed a kiss against a curl that strayed across his lips.

  "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry," he said. "I had no right to say the things I said to you. Please … just chalk it up to shock and an inability to mind my own business."

  "No," Annie said and pushed him away. "You had every right. And you were right to say what you did."

  Gabe closed his eyes against the truth of her words. Being right didn't make what would happen later any easier to bear.

  "Come to the house," Annie said. "I have something to show you."

  She held out her hand, and Gabe took it. Together they walked back through the trees, then up the path that led to Annie's house.

  He shivered slightly as they walked inside. It was the first time they been here together since he'd found her on the floor at Davie's feet.

  And then be forgot everything he'd been thinking at the shock of what he saw in the middle of the living room floor. There were boxes everywhere.

  "What's all this?" he asked, and watched as Annie began opening and sorting boxes with calm deliberation.

  "Mother's Christmas decorations. I had Davie get them out of the attic before he left. I want to put up a tree."

  "A tree?"

  "A Christmas tree," she said, then continued to sort through tissue and tape.

  "Davie's father has lots of cedar growing on their place. He's bringing one over this evening after he gets off work. He and Charlotte are going to help us decorate. It'll be fun.

  "A real Christmas tree?"

  Annie paused in the act of unwinding an old string of lights and stared at Gabe. "I know it's early." she said. "But I thought it would be obvious to you why I'm doing this." She handed him the string of lights. "Here, see if you can get these untangled. I want to test them before we put them on the tree."

  Gabe sank into a chair as Annie dropped the string at lights in his lap. He stared down at them, then up at her, as a slow smile spread across his face.

  Even though she'd seen it plenty of times. Annie still caught her breath at the amazing beauty of his smile. It made him seem almost angelic. She laughed to herself at the thought and turned back to her task.

  "I've never had a Christmas tree."

  Annie almost didn't hear him. She stopped what she was doing and turned. Gabe was holding the lights and staring at them as if they'd suddenly turned to gold.

  "What do you mean, you've never had a Christmas tree? Surely you've had a—"

  "No. Never. It just didn't seem like a thing to do alone."

  Annie stopped what she was doing and dropped to her knees beside Gabe's chair. "Gabriel Donner. I love you. Very, very much. And for the rest of our days, whatever we do won't be done alone. Somehow it only seems fitting that we share your first Christmas together."

  The words were never spoken, but they both heard them just the same.

  Gabe pulled Annie into his lap, settling her amid the tangle of wire and bulbs, and then held her face between his hands.

  "I don't deserve you, lady," he whispered, then feathered a kiss across her lips.

  "I know," Annie said with a sigh, and leaned against him, nuzzling her cheek over his chest until she came to the place where his heart beat loudest.

  He chuckled, and Annie heard its origin from deep down inside his chest and smiled.

  "We'll put up the tree tonight and open presents tomorrow. And then whatever comes after that, comes. At least we'll have celebrated together. Deal?"

  The anxious look on her face made him angry. He'd put it there, and for that he would never forgive himself. Gabe hugged her lightly, willing the swelling pain in his chest to hell, where it belonged.

  "Deal, darlin'," he whispered. "Whatever comes."

  Annie smiled. With Gabe at her side, she could handle whatever came.

  * * *

  "Open mine first!"

  "Okay, okay," Annie said. "Hand it to me."

  Davie was like a puppy with a new bone. He'd gotten into the excitement of the early celebration as if he'd thought of it himself. His request was duly noted as Annie picked up the small flat box and shook it for effect.

  Gabe watched the two old friends and tried to smile, hoping that no one noticed he wasn't nearly as excited about this event as he should have been.

  It was impossible not to notice Annie's drawn expression or the dark hollows in her cheeks. When she thought no one was looking her eyelids drooped; she was constantly sleepy from the heavier doses of painkillers she was now forced to take.

  Gabe stared at the scene unfolding before him and tried not to let his feelings show.

  "Look, Gabe. It's a picture frame. I'm going to put our picture from Silver Dollar City inside. It'll be perfect"

  "Now mine," Annie said, handing Davie a wrapped box.

  He tore into it with enthusiasm, and his face lit up as he pulled out an old nursery rhyme book.

  "It's one of my favorite books," Annie said. "And it's the first one you learned to read. I thought you should have it so that you can read to your own children some day."

  "Man…" he whispered, suddenly choking on emotion as he gently turned the pages of his gift. "You've changed my life, Annie. Because of you, I'll never be ashamed again."

  "Here," Gabe said, offering Davie some punch. "Annie spent all afternoon mixing this stuff. You'd better check to see if she's spiked it."

  Annie smiled as her heart swelled with pride. Gabe was trying so hard … and all for her.

  "Okay, you next," Gabe said, and handed Annie a small oblong box. There weren't many gift choices in Walnut Shade, but when he'd seen this, he had instantly thought of her.

  For a moment Annie just held the box, letting the love with which it had been given seep into her soul. She needed all the strength she could get to finish this day. And then the rest of her life was going to be in someone else's hands.

  She lifted the lid and pushed back the tissue. When she saw the tiny apple-shaped charm and the long gold chain, she began to smile.

  Gabe lifted it from the box and then draped it around her neck while he fastened the intricate clasp.

  "An apple a day keeps the doctor away?" Annie asked, and caught the small, golden charm as it dangled in the valley between her breasts.

  "No, honey. It's an apple … for my favorite teacher."

  Gabe leaned over and kissed her lightly on the lips before turning to pour himself some of that punch. Suddenly he, too, was suffering from a lack of words and too much emotion.

  "Oh, hell," Davie said, and took another big gulp of punch.

  Annie laughed. "You're both pathetic," she said. "I'm not done for yet."

  Gabe grinned past the knot in his throat. Damned if this woman wasn't something. She was thumbing her nose at them and at her fate. He couldn't let her down. Not when she was trying so hard.

  "Where's mine?" Gabe asked, and began poking playfully beneath the branches of the tree.

  Annie clasped her hands together in her lap and took several slow, canning breaths before she began. It was, after all, why she'd plann
ed this elaborate get-together.

  "It's here," she said, and slipped an envelope from behind her back. "I was hiding it. I knew you'd peek."

  Gabe grinned and took the long white envelope as she handed it over, wondering as he did about the near-panic he thought he saw on her face.

  He made a big issue of turning it over and over several times before slipping his finger beneath the flap and pulling it up. And then, just to prolong the issue, he peered inside twice before pulling out the contents.

  Davie muttered softly in disgust, and Annie laughed aloud.

  Gabe grinned. He'd done his bit toward putting a smile back on her face. It was time to end the ordeal. With an elaborate flourish, he pulled the piece of paper from inside the envelope and began unfolding it with relish.

  "Probably a letter from the IRS," he teased as he unfolded the first flap.

  "Naw … it's from one of those sweepstakes places," Davie offered, slapping his leg in jest. "You just won the jackpot."

  The smile on Gabe's face stopped in mid-formation. Quickly he scanned the printed page, and Annie held her breath, waiting for his reaction. She didn't have long to wait.

  The paper shook in his hands as the blood drained from his face.

  "Why? Why now?" Gabe asked.

  Annie shrugged. "Why not?" she retorted. "After all, what you said was the truth."

  "What is it?" Davie asked.

  "It's a copy of my preadmission form," Annie said, her voice a little too bright and a little too light to fool anyone.

  "I'm admitting myself tomorrow. Surgery the day after that."

  "But I thought…"

  "Shut up, Davie. Just shut up." Gabe's voice shook as he leaned over and picked Annie up in his arms.

  She slid her arms around his neck and rested her head against the curve of his cheek as he shifted her to a safer place within his embrace.

  "Davie…" Gabe stared at the sheen of tears in Annie's eyes.

  "What?" Davie asked.

  "Let yourself out," he said, and walked out of the room with Annie in his arms.

  * * *

  "So, do you like your gift?" Annie asked a few minutes later as Gabe laid her down upon her bed.

  He shuddered as he crawled in beside her and then wrapped her so tightly within his arms that it was hard to draw a breath.

  Long minutes passed, and Annie thought he was never going to speak. Where once he'd been the one who gave comfort, now it was her turn to do the same.

  Gabe shook. Great, shivering contractions that jerked his muscles and rattled his teeth. The tighter he held her, the colder he felt. He didn't think he would ever be warm again. And in the moment that he thought it, he knew why he'd reacted as he had. If Annie died, all the light and warmth would go out of his world. That piece of paper was simply a reminder of the awful fact.

  "It's not my present to keep," Gabe finally whispered, and buried his face in the warm, thick tangles of her hair. "No one's life can belong to another. The only thing you can give away is love, Annie. Only love."

  "Then it's yours," she said lightly. "Now, remind me of what I've got to live for, Gabriel. Make love to me now, while there's still time."

  "My God, Annie. I don't know if I can. I've never made love with a broken heart."

  He choked on his words and felt her tremble as he wrapped her in his arms.

  "Then try. That's all anyone can do—just try," she whispered.

  So he did.

  * * *

  Chapter 14

  «^»

  The house was cold and quiet. Inside, it looked and felt a little bit like it had the day that they'd arrived: drab and lonely. And now it sat empty, just waiting for someone to come back and add the spark to it that made a house a home.

  Gabe walked from room to room, making certain that everything was turned off and unplugged.

  All morning Annie had gone through the rooms, folding up linens and making up beds, anything she could think to do that would postpone her trip to Walnut Shade. She'd fussed with the little things until she'd made herself sick and ended up leaving Davie with a list of instructions he faithfully promised to complete.

  But now she was gone.

  Gabe inhaled deeply as he walked into her bedroom. The scent of her bath powder still lingered, as well as a few small, unnecessary items that she'd left behind when she'd packed her bag.

  He leaned against the doorframe and closed his eyes, recalling his last image of Annie and how, small she'd looked as they'd strapped her down in the gurney and lifted her into the helicopter.

  MediFlight was airlifting her back to Oklahoma City, to the specialist who'd first begun her treatment. Walnut Shade and the good doctors there simply didn't have the specialists and facilities available for the delicate neurosurgery she needed. Gabe pushed himself away from the door and cursed softly, trying to forget how pale she'd looked and how frightened she'd seemed when the helicopter lifted off.

  He'd watched until it was nothing more than a tiny black speck in the sky. And then a sudden sense of urgency had sent him driving back to the house in a cloud of dust. He couldn't shake an overwhelming urge to race the helicopter to Oklahoma City. Annie might need him.

  Because he owned little and traveled light, Gabe had nothing much to pack. What he'd left until last, he now stuffed haphazardly into his bag, anxious to get back on the road.

  He started out of the room, then stopped and turned, taking one last look around at the place where he and Annie had loved.

  The old stuffed teddy bear, her first and her favorite, was propped against the pillow shams on her bed. Their picture, the one they'd had taken at Silver Dollar City, was safely mounted in the frame Davie had given her as a gift and now sat in a place of prominence in the center of her dresser.

  Gabe looked at it from across the room and felt a sense of timelessness, as if all things come full circle. It was as if someday another couple might come upon the picture and know that once upon a time, in another life, a man and a woman had loved as they did now.

  "God willing, my Annie, you will be back."

  He walked away, his bag over his shoulder, and missed seeing that she'd hung the long gold chain with the little apple charm over the corner of the frame. If he had, he would have known then that Annie had already made peace with herself and her fate. The necklace hadn't been off her neck for a moment since he'd put it on. And yet it was the first thing she'd left behind.

  The front door slammed behind him as he walked out on the porch. Gabe dropped his bag and reached up over the door, letting his fingers trace the dusty path until he came to the old, rusty key.

  He poked it into the lock and then turned it. The tumblers clicked into place. Carelessly Gabe put the key back onto the narrow ledge, paying little attention to its location, and picked up his bag. With Annie gone, there was nothing here that needed to be kept safe.

  In two steps he was off the porch and running toward his bike. He tossed his bag onto the back, strapped it in place and jammed the helmet on his head. Seconds later the engine fired, and the big, black Harley roared out of the quiet little yard, leaving dust and dry leaves flying in its wake.

  Hours later Gabe crossed the state line and absently read the sign at the side of the road. Welcome To Oklahoma. He didn't feel welcome. He didn't feel anything at all.

  Sometime later he crossed another, smaller state highway to get to the southbound on-ramp leading to Interstate 40. The wind beneath the helmet roared in his ears as he focused on the next leg of his journey. Destination: Oklahoma City—and Annie.

  * * *

  It was nearly midnight when Gabe got off the elevator. A night nurse doing rounds looked askance at his shaggy black hair, dusty boots and faded jeans, then shrugged and entered the next room on her list. In her job, she saw all kinds.

  Gabe's spurs made tiny jingling sounds as his long legs quickly covered the distance to the nurses' station.

  "Annie O'Brien's room," he said as he stopped in front of
the desk and waited for further directions.

  "I'm sorry, sir," a nurse said. "But visiting hours were over long ago."

  "She's expecting me," Gabe persisted. "I've been on the road since early this morning. I don't think she'll rest until she knows I'm here."

  The nurse frowned. She'd already familiarized herself with the case history and couldn't quite fit this big biker with the young schoolteacher who'd been brought in by helicopter earlier in the day.

  Gabe saw her frown and knew it for what it was, disapproval of his appearance, rather than anything that he'd done.

  "Please," he insisted. "My name is Gabe Donner. I have to see Annie. I'm all the family she has."

  "You're that Gabriel? Miss O'Brien's angel of mercy?" She grinned. "Sorry. You just didn't quite fit the image I had in mind." And then, to soften the rudeness of her remark, she added, "I was expecting maybe … wings?"

  Gabe grinned wearily. "That's one I haven't heard before." And then the smile disappeared and the shadows came back into his eyes. "Please … I need to see Annie."

  "Room 353, down the hall and to the right."

  Gabe disappeared so quickly that the nurse was left wondering if she'd imagined him. And then she heard the faint but distinct jingle of spurs and knew that he'd been real. She resumed her work and hoped that Gabriel Donner could withstand some shocks. Miss O'Brien's appearance had undergone a drastic transformation.

  Nervous anticipation made him shake as he pushed open the door to the private room, then walked inside. Thick, dark shadows surrounded the bed, making everything, including Annie, seem small by comparison.

  A mere lump beneath the covers, she slept in her old familiar position, with her knees drawn up and her hands beneath her chin in a gesture of prayer. Gabe caught his breath and swallowed his shock.

  He leaned over and kissed her cheek, trying not to look at the small white cap she wore over her head, trying not to notice that she looked more like a newborn baby than the woman he'd made love to with total abandon only a day ago.

  Annie stirred, as if sensing Gabe's presence. She reached out into the darkness and found him reaching back.

  "They cut off my hair," she whispered, unaware of a small tear that trickled down her nose.