The Outlaws: Rafe

by Connie Mason

  Rafe stifled a groan. He hadn't counted on anyone finding Baxter before he decided what was to be done with the man. He shouldn't have exhausted himself making love to Angel. Then a thought struck him. Why hadn't Cady released Baxter if he'd found him? He was debating whether or not to expose himself to Cady when Angel came rushing from the bedroom.

  "What is it? What's all the commotion?" She glanced out the window. "That's Cady. What's he saying?"

  "I suspect he's found Baxter."

  "Where is Baxter?"

  Rafe shrugged. "Beats me."

  "Don't let him see you," Angela cautioned. "I'll go out and see what's happening.'

  Cady screeched to a halt when Angela stepped out onto the steps. His skin was waxy and he was perspiring profusely.

  "Baxter's dead. Someone murdered him. Shot him through the heart."

  Angela's hand flew to her throat. "No, you must be mistaken."

  "He's dead, all right." He started backing away, then he turned and ran for his horse. "I gotta go for the sheriff," he shouted as he leapt aboard his horse and raced down the road.

  Stunned, Angela returned to the house on shaking legs. How could Baxter be dead? The last time she saw him he was very much alive. Suddenly it dawned on her that she wasn't the last person to see Baxter alive. It was...

  Rafe.

  Oh God, why had he done it? Why had Rafe killed Baxter?

  "I heard," Rafe said, eyeing her warily. "And I know what you're thinking." He reached for her.

  "No! Don't touch me! Why did you kill him? No matter how despicable he was, killing him in cold blood wasn't right. Oh, God, I don't even know you."

  "Angel, I did not kill Baxter," he enunciated slowly. "He was very much alive the last time I saw him."

  She backed away, shaking so hard her knees were knocking. "Don't lie! Who else was there? Only you and I knew Baxter was in the mine. I never believed all those charges against you were true, but now..."

  "Angel, you've got to believe me. Don't turn your back on me now. We've come too far." He grasped her shoulders and felt her stiffen. He released her immediately. Her fear was so palpable he could almost taste it.

  His eyes hardened to the color of stone, cold and gray and unforgiving. "I thought I knew you but I was mistaken. I won't stick around this time to protect you. You're sole owner of the mine, now. Your marriage to Baxter makes you his beneficiary. I hope that makes you happy."

  "I...I don't know what to say or think. You were the last person inside the mine. Baxter was alive when I left."

  "You could say you don't think me capable of murder. You could say you'll come with me when I leave here. You could say... Forget it. What's the use. I can see I'm wasting my time. I hope you have no objection if I take some trail food from the kitchen with me."

  Rafe couldn't believe this was happening. Who in the hell had killed Baxter? He hadn't a clue. All he knew was the bastard was alive when he had left the mine to join Angel. He should have known better than to think a woman like Angel would believe in him. He had nothing to commend him. No home, no money, a reputation he hadn't earned, and the law breathing down his neck. But after all he and Angel had been through together, he couldn't help feeling raw and hurting after her hasty judgment of him.

  They had just spent the night making love, for godsake! Never would Rafe understand women. This was the last time he'd ever let himself trust one.

  "Take what you need," Angela said dully. "I have some money..."

  "No!" he all but shouted. "No," he said, more reasonably. "I don't want a damn cent of your money, lady. And I'm going to prove to you that I no killer. I'm not even a bank robber."

  "Rafe, I'm sorry. I'm just so confused. If there had been anyone else here... I need time to think."

  "Time has run out, Angel. You never were completely convinced that I'm not an outlaw. There was always that tiny kernel of doubt I sensed in you. Even when we made love you had a wary look in your eyes, as if you couldn't quite decide what or who I was."

  "That's not true!"

  "Then prove it. Come with me now."

  She took an involuntary step backward. "I can't."

  Sarcasm dripped from his voice. "I didn't think you would." He brushed past her and filled his pockets with food he'd already set out on the kitchen table.

  "I'm taking feed for my horse with me." Angela nodded. He paused with his hand on the doorknob. "Good-bye, Angel. I've enjoyed the ride." Then he was gone.

  Angela stared at the door. Her heart thumped wildly inside her chest as she blinked back the tears. She wanted to run after Rafe, to tell him she knew he wasn't a killer, but her legs refused to move.

  If Rafe hadn't killed Baxter, who did? The logical part of her brain went through the litany of facts. Baxter was going to kill Rafe. She'd hit Baxter with a rock. His bullet grazed her arm and Rafe escorted her to the mine's entrance. Then he'd gone back inside to tie Baxter up. He stayed a long time. Too long.

  Had Rafe shot Baxter? What was his motive? Revenge? Did he hate Baxter for forcing her to marry him? Whatever Rafe's motive, it wasn't enough to resort to murder. Even as much as she hated Baxter for killing her father she couldn't kill him in cold blood.

  On the other hand, she could have misjudged Rafe. When she looked into his eyes she didn't see a killer. She saw a man who had made a woman of her, a man who had taught her passion.

  She saw a man with two faces. An dangerous outlaw and a gentle lover. Who was the real Rafe Gentry? She hadn't wanted him to touch her after she'd learned Baxter was dead and she recalled the flash of pain her words had produced. But she couldn't help it. She'd always been a little confused where Rafe was concerned and this latest incident only added to her confusion. Was she capable of loving a killer?

  That question hung in the air like Autumn smoke, thick, suffocating, stifling her thought process. Would she ever know the real Rafe Gentry? Unlikely, she thought as she watched him make his way up the mountainside to the cave where he'd left his horse. She watched until she could no longer see him, then turned away. She went through the motions of fixing breakfast, though she wasn't hungry, and poured herself a cup of strong coffee.

  Time passed. She was staring at an uneaten biscuit, her thoughts a million miles away when she heard riders approaching the mine. Her mind suddenly alert, she scraped back her chair, opened the door, and stepped outside. She recognized the sheriff before he reined in at the mine entrance. His deputy and Jim Cady were with him. Cady lit a lantern, then all three disappeared inside.

  Angel waited with baited breath for what seemed like an eternity before the men reappeared, this time carrying a body. They laid the body on the ground and wrapped it in a blanket the sheriff retrieved from his saddle. Cady and the deputy waited beside the body while a grim-faced Sheriff Diller walked over to where she was waiting.

  "'Morning, Miz Baxter. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but your husband is dead."

  She raised anxious eyes to him. "I know. Cady brought the news this morning."

  "When was the last time you saw your husband? You and Baxter did get hitched yesterday, didn't you?"

  "We were married at the parsonage yesterday morning," Angela intoned dryly. "The last time I saw him was early this morning. He rose before dawn. He said there was something in the mine he'd forgotten to do."

  The lies rolled easily from her tongue. She was still confused and undecided about Rafe's part in Baxter's murder but common sense told her not to mention Rafe's name. She felt morally obligated to give him the time he needed to get as far away as possible before the sheriff put two and two together and came up with Rafe Gentry.

  "Were you the only two here last night and today?"

  Angela couldn't meet his gaze. "To my knowledge. If someone was lurking about I wasn't aware of it."

  Diller searched her face. "You seem mighty calm for a new widow."

  "I did all my crying before you got here. Besides, Brady and I hadn't known one another very long. Our marriage was on
e of convenience. I preferred Brady to the man my stepfather chose for me."

  Diller nodded, marriages of convenience took place every day. Nothing suspicious or unusual there.

  "Whoever killed Baxter did it in cold blood. He never had a chance. He was trussed up and shot point blank."

  Angela shuddered and looked away. "I'm sorry. No man should die like that."

  Diller gave her a shrewd look. "Any ideas, Miz Baxter?"

  "I...no, none at all. Brady must have made an enemy or two during his life."

  "You seen Rafe Gentry lately?"

  She gave him a startled look. "No. He's probably halfway to California by now."

  "I thought you might have seen him recently. He was pretending to be your husband, wasn't he? Everyone thought you two were husband and wife until your stepfather set everyone straight and denounced Gentry for the outlaw he was. Are you sure you didn't know about Gentry's violent past?"

  "I was fooled along with everyone else," Angela said. "I haven't seen Rafe since he took off. Why do you ask?"

  Diller was no dummy. "I'm thinking that Gentry could be holed up somewhere in the mountains. There's no lack of hiding places."

  "Why would he do that?"

  "You tell me?"

  "I have no idea what you're implying.

  "I'm implying that Gentry had a beef with Baxter. From all reports, Gentry is a vicious outlaw who wouldn't think twice about killing a man for revenge. Baxter did bring the law up here. And Baxter married the woman Gentry wanted for himself. That's reason enough in my books."

  Diller made it all sound so logical, Angela thought. Though she had mulled those very same things over in her mind herself, she didn't like hearing them from another source.

  "I'm sure you're wrong, Sheriff."

  "Nevertheless, we have no other suspects, unless we include you, and I don't think you're strong enough or cold-blooded enough to commit murder. So that leaves only Gentry. Looks like we'll be forming a posse again, and adding another murder to the charges pending against Gentry. What shall we do with your husband's body, Miz Baxter?"

  "Would...would you please take him to town and see that the undertaker prepares him for burial. I'll ride down later and make arrangements for the funeral. I'll also be looking to hire workers for the mine. You can pass the word around, if you'll be so kind. I want things back to normal as soon as possible."

  "Sure thing," Diller said. "I'll take care of everything." They parted, then. Angela entered the cabin and didn't look back as the sheriff, his deputy and Cady draped Baxter's body over his horse for the trip to town.

  Baxter's funeral was held the following morning. Angela had gone into town shortly after the sheriff departed and made the necessary arrangements. Baxter was buried in the town cemetery with a few friends and business acquaintances in attendance. From the corner of her eye Angela saw Desmond Dexter and Anson Chandler standing at the rear of the small gathering and she wondered what they had in mind for her now. Then Reverend Porter said the words over the grave and the mourners drifted away after stopping to offer their condolences.

  Lawyer Goodman stood beside Angela. While in town yesterday, she had paid him a visit, explaining everything that had happened. She'd told him the truth, leaving nothing out. Including why she had married Rafe and Chandler's determination to get his hands on her inheritance. She explained how the death of Reverend Conrad and loss of records pertaining to her marriage came about. She even told Goodman why she'd gone through with the marriage to Baxter when she knew it was an illegal union.

  Goodman had been stunned. His first question had been, "Did Rafe Gentry really kill Brady Baxter?" His second was, "Do you actually believe Gentry guilty of all those crimes?"

  "Rafe swore he hadn't robbed that bank, or done those other things of which he's accused," she'd responded. "I'd begun to believe him for he showed no signs of violence. But I know he was the last person to see Baxter alive. Despite the fact that Baxter arranged my father's death and intended to kill Rafe, his death was accomplished in such a cold-blooded way that I could never forgive Rafe were he responsible."

  She'd left the lawyer's office a short time later, giving him time to digest everything she'd told him.

  Now, following the brief ceremony, he accompanied her back to his office to tie up legal matters arising from Baxter's death. Seated opposite him, Angela stared at her hands. This was all such a mess. Everyone but herself thought of her as Baxter's widow.

  "Well, my dear, it looks as if you're sole beneficiary of Brady Baxter's estate."

  "But our marriage wasn't legal," Angela insisted.

  "I strongly suggest you keep that piece of information to yourself. Baxter had no relatives. You're the logical person to inherit. Besides, your father and Baxter signed a letter of intent before they became partners. I have it in my records. Since Baxter had no relatives, his share was to go to Simon should he not outlive your father. You're your father's heir. And if either you or Simon failed to outlive Baxter, he would become sole owner of the Golden Angel."

  "Baxter probably thought marrying me was easier than killing me," Angela mused. "When I turned up with a husband, it probably threw all his plans awry. That's why he planned to do away with Rafe. Of course it didn't hurt that Rafe had a price on his head."

  "I still can't believe Baxter was responsible for your father's death. Simon's was on his way to the smelter with a load of ore when his wagon careened over a mountainside. Baxter told everyone the axle broke."

  "Believe it," Angela said with a touch of sadness. "At least I have the satisfaction of knowing he was punished for his crime. I'm just sorry his death happened the way it did. I would have preferred to have the law pass final judgment."

  "You're a very wealthy young lady, given the health of your father's and Baxter's finances," Goodman said. "You can live the life of luxury the rest of your life, if you'd like."

  "I don't want Brady's money," Angela averred.

  "Nevertheless, it's yours. You could sell the mine tomorrow and still out you live in comfort. I'll make all the arrangements for the transfer of Baxter's assets into your personal account."

  "I don't..."

  "Think it over carefully before you refuse," Goodman advised. "The money might do a lot of good somewhere. Take your time, decide what you want to do, then let me know."

  A slow smile spread across Angela's face. "You're right. I could found an orphanage, endow a new school, or build a new church. Very well, Mr. Goodman, I'll give your suggestion serious thought." She rose to leave.

  "Don't go yet, Angela. What if Rafe Gentry shows up at the mine? You shouldn't be alone out there, you know."

  "He won't show up," Angela said with firm conviction. "Not if he values his freedom. As for being out there alone, I intend to hire men to work the mine before I leave town. I posted a sign at the post office this morning. Hopefully I can hire all the men I need today. The foreman can stay in Brady's cabin. He can even bring his family, if he's married. It would be nice to have another woman around."

  Goodman sent her a concerned look. "Good luck, my dear. Miners are a stubborn lot. I not sure they'll want to work for a woman. Especially a woman who knows nothing about mining."

  "I can learn," Angela said with an assurance she was far from feeling.

  Angela walked the short distance to the post office. The sign she had posted earlier asked that men interested in working at the Golden Angel should meet in front of the post office at noon. She was heartened to see about ten men gathered outside the building, gossiping and smoking while they waited.

  "I need mine workers," Angela began as she called the men to attention. "Experienced ones."

  "Who's gonna pay our wages?" a man asked.

  "I am," Angela answered. "You'll receive the going rate for mine work. Perhaps some of you worked for my father and Brady Baxter. I'd be pleased to have you return."

  "You gonna be our boss?" a man challenged.

  "Since I'm the owner, I'll run thi
ngs," Angela stated.

  "I ain't working for no woman."

  "Me neither. Women got no business bossing men around."

  The small band of miners started drifting away.

  Panic surged through Angela. She had never expected this. "Wait! I'll pay double the going rate."

  "Ain't worth it, lady," someone shot back. "Ask again when you put a man in charge."

  Damn you. Damn you all, Angela wanted to shout. Instead, she bit her tongue and watched them leave her high and dry without a crew to work the mine.

  "I knew you'd have need of me one day," Chandler said as he joined her outside the post office. "They'll work for me. I can pack my things and move out there today. I'll bring workers with me, too. What do you say, Angel?"

  "Bring qualified miners and I'll think about it," Angela countered.

  Chapter Ten

  Chandler showed up at the mine the following day with ten men and a foreman. It galled Angela to think that most of the men were the very same ones who had refused to work for her the day before. Not only that, but the foreman was Jim Cady, the man who had been Baxter's right hand man.

  "I told you I'd get the men you needed," Chandler bragged when Angela walked out to greet him.

  "How did you do it?"

  Chandler shrugged. "I told them we were going to be married, and that I'd be in charge of operations here."

  An angry flush suffused Angela's face. She didn't like the idea of people thinking she and Chandler were romantically involved. But for the time being, it appeared to be the only way to bring workers to the mine. Men were a strange breed, she silently fumed. Women weren't supposed to have brains, and woe be to them who didn't fit the mold. Men considered women mindless creatures with little to commend them but their bodies and their housekeeping capabilities.

  "Just don't get too comfortable with what you told the men," Angela warned. "I have no intention of marrying you, Anson. The only reason I'm letting you have your way is because I need men to work the mine."

  Angela had done a lot of thinking since Baxter's death. If Rafe hadn't killed him, someone else did. To her way of thinking, Chandler was a logical suspect, and she hoped that having him around where she could watch him would eventually lead to the truth. The thought that Rafe had killed in cold blood was becoming increasingly difficult to believe, and she intended to do everything humanly possible to prove his innocence.