The Reluctant Outlaw (Love Inspired Historical)

by Karen Kirst

  Her mouth fell open. “Gentlemen do not discuss ladies’ undergarments.”

  Oddly amused by her discomfiture, he smirked. “I never claimed to be one.” He placed a hand on her shoulder and gently turned her in the direction of the nearest shade tree on the bank. “Humor me. Go sit down.”

  Shifting the wood, he watched as she did his bidding. Once settled, her skirts arranged about her just so, she speared him with her dark gaze. “Happy now?”

  “Yes, thank you. Rest while I fetch you some cold water.”

  She was silent, offering only a simple thank-you when he handed her the cup. Evan gathered his fishing gear and settled on the bank beside her.

  His gaze on the shimmering water, he asked, “So who taught you to ride bareback?”

  “My cousin, Joshua.”

  He glanced over at her. She appeared at ease, her legs tucked to one side and her graceful hands clasped in her lap. Her green eyes seemed to miss nothing.

  “And he thought that was necessary because…” Evan prompted.

  “Oh, I don’t think he had any particular reason. We did it for fun and, like everything else, it turned into a competition. He’s two years older than me and more like a big brother than a cousin. He lives next door with his folks and two younger brothers, Nathan and Caleb. We see each other almost every day.”

  “Did he teach you how to shoot a bow and arrow, too?”

  “Now you’re teasing me.” Her lips curved in a most intriguing smile.

  An answering smile on his face, he held up his hands. “No, honest. I’d like to know what else your talented cousin taught you.”

  “Let’s just say that because of his patient instruction, I’m more skilled in manly pursuits than the average woman. And severely lacking in those skills necessary to make a comfortable home.”

  Evan felt a tug on his line. He eased it up out of the water, pleased to see a medium-weight trout dangling on the end. He made quick work of unhooking the fish and getting his line back in the water. “So let me guess, while your sisters were learning to make biscuits and crochet, you were gallivanting about the countryside with your cousins.”

  Her soft trill of laughter warmed his insides. “That about it sums it up, yes. I do my share of chores, of course. I like to work in the garden and oversee the care of the animals.”

  “You don’t look like a tomboy,” he offered over the rim of his cup.

  He was rewarded with a soft pink blush along her cheekbones. She shot him a wry glance. “I’m not as particular about my appearance as some of my sisters, but I do like nice clothes. Of course, this dress is sadly ruined.”

  “I’ll replace it.”

  Irish shook her head. “I could never accept such a personal gift from a stranger.”

  He lowered his gaze to the creek. Odd, he didn’t consider them strangers. Not friends, certainly. What then? Two people whose lives intersect for a fleeting moment, like two leaves floating on the breeze, colliding, twirling together in a delicate spiral, only to drift apart and land in separate spots?

  He sighed. This line of thinking could only lead to trouble.

  “You must be tired after all that walking,” she said, obviously interpreting his sigh as a sign of physical exhaustion instead of the emotional upheaval it reflected. “Am I allowed to help at all? I can get the fire going and make coffee, at least.”

  “Can you fish?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  He handed her his pole and a small collection of worms. “These don’t bother you?”

  “Nah.”

  “Okay, then. You catch our dinner, and I’ll cook it. Deal?”

  “I think that’s a wise solution.” She laughed again, a delightful, enchanting music that washed over him and made him long for impossible dreams. He bolted to his feet to keep from doing something rash, like kissing her sweet mouth.

  “I’ll leave you to it then.”

  As Evan lit the fire and set the coffee to boiling, he forced all thoughts of Irish from his mind. He had to get a grip. Focus. Fitzgerald was out there somewhere. Evan couldn’t afford to let down his guard, not even for a second.

  When she presented him with four fish half an hour later, he praised her efforts but didn’t attempt conversation. He cleaned, gutted and cooked them in silence while Irish stowed his fishing rod and spread out a blanket for them to sit on.

  Evan noticed that she bowed her head to pray silently before eating and found himself doing the same. As they ate, darkness slowly swallowed the last fingers of light. A soft breeze rustled the leaves and water trickled over mossy stones.

  “I can’t recall the last time I ate a meal outside.” Her honeyed voice was subdued. “There’s a spot on our land similar to this.” She gestured to the surrounding meadow. “It’s so peaceful. Reminds me of the Psalm, ‘He makes me lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside still waters.’”

  “He restores my soul,” he finished almost without thought.

  Her head came up. “Evan, is God a part of your life?”

  Evan hesitated. “He used to be, but now…let’s just say I’ve long since lost sight of Him.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” She was quiet, absently plucking blades of grass. “You know, He hasn’t lost sight of you. His Word says that nothing can separate us from the love He has for us.”

  His mood turned somber. “I remember. It’s just that there’s some things I need to do before I can fix my relationship with Him.”

  “I think you’ve got that backward, Evan. Think about it.” She stood and gathered the dishes. “I’m going to wash these and repack them.”

  He watched her walk to the water’s edge, relieved that she’d dropped the subject. He wasn’t eager to talk to her or anyone else about his failures.

  By the time she returned, he had the bedroll laid out near the fire. “You’ll sleep here.” He pointed to a cluster of trees across the way. “I’ll be over there standing watch. If you need anything just call out.”

  “You don’t plan on sleeping at all?”

  He held his cup of steaming coffee aloft, his third since supper. “Not if I can help it.”

  “But,” she hesitated, “you need rest just as much as I do.”

  “I’m used to living on little sleep.”

  “I’ve slept outside a number of times, but always close to home.” Her voice was hushed in the darkness. “Do you think we’re safe here?”

  Evan wondered if her mind was on the wildlife or their pursuer. In his opinion, Fitzgerald would’ve had to tend to his injuries before setting off after them. Animals were another matter.

  “Yes, I do. Try not to worry.”

  He couldn’t see her features, but he caught the slight shake of her head. “Fear is a foreign emotion for me. I hadn’t realized until this moment how predictable my life is. Since every day is much the same, there’s never any reason to feel insecure or frightened. If my sister, Megan, were here, she’d know just the right verse to make me feel better. She’s memorized the most of any of us.”

  He was quiet a long time. Finally, he spoke. “I will lie down and sleep in peace, for You alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety. Psalm 4:8.”

  “Thank you, Evan,” she whispered softly. “I needed that.”

  “Sweet dreams, Irish.”

  Evan tried to get comfortable, but it was next to impossible. He gazed up at the velvet black sky, his thoughts on the lady across the way. He hoped she was able to get some rest.

  He’d never met anyone like her. She was sweetness and spice. Unafraid to speak her mind, yet wise enough to know when not to. With her to worry about, thoughts of James’s death and the need for revenge no longer dominated his every waking moment.

  He found himself longing to be in his own cabin, sleeping in his own bed. Longing to live simply once again—tending his crops and cows and goats and chickens—not living in the shadow of danger, keeping company with amoral, ruthless outlaws.

  Evan wondered what Irish
would think about his spread. It certainly was no stretch to picture her on his front porch, rocking in the chair he’d carved with his own hands, her red-gold hair fluttering in the breeze.

  He didn’t even know her name. On impulse, he left his post and went to crouch beside her sleeping form.

  “Irish?” He placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

  “Mmm?” Eyes closed, she smiled in her sleep.

  “Irish, what’s your real name?”

  “Mmm?”

  “Your name.”

  “Juliana, silly,” she mumbled before turning on her side, her back to him.

  “Juliana,” he breathed softly, testing her name on his lips. “Beautiful, just like you.”

  Chapter Seven

  A heavy hand covered her mouth, startling her out of a deep sleep. Her foggy brain couldn’t make sense of the rapid-fire words assailing her ear. Panic swelled in her chest. Whimpering, she tried to pry the fingers away.

  “Hush,” a low, familiar voice murmured against her ear. “It’s me, Evan.”

  His clean scent reached her nose, and the tension left her body. He dropped his hand and helped her sit up.

  “There’s something out there. Follow me and be quiet.”

  She stuffed her feet into her boots without bothering to tie the laces. She took hold of his outstretched hand, taking comfort in the warmth of his touch. That connection was her lifeline as he pulled her quickly through the darkness. She was breathless by the time he stopped.

  He settled both hands on her shoulders and leaned in close. “Stay here. I’m going after Lucky.”

  All she could think was that Fitzgerald had found them, and the possibility struck terror in her heart. He would surely kill her after what she’d done. “Do you think he’s found us?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “But I want you to promise me you’ll stay right here.”

  “I promise.”

  “Right here,” he reiterated, “in this very spot.”

  “I won’t move an inch.”

  He hesitated. Was he wondering whether or not he could trust her?

  “Do you know how to shoot a gun?”

  Juliana hid a smile. If he only knew. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

  He dropped his hands and reached for his holster. Then he pressed a gun into her hands. “Here. Whatever you do, take care where you aim this thing.”

  She took it, oddly touched by his gesture. “Why are you doing this? Considering that I stole your horse, how can you trust me with a weapon?”

  “Am I wrong to trust you, Juliana?”

  Her name on his lips was a soft caress. It had a strange effect on her. “How do you know my name?”

  “Simple. I waited until you were half-asleep to ask. You gave it up readily.”

  “You don’t play fair,” she said, heat rushing to her face. What else had he learned?

  “And you do?” His black brows winged up.

  He had a point. He’d been very forgiving yesterday when he met up with her and Lucky. Why, he hadn’t even scolded her for stealing his horse and stranding him in the middle of nowhere! She’d deserved a good tongue lashing at the very least. Instead he’d been gentle, soothing her as she wept in his arms.

  A high-pitched whinny pierced the night air.

  Evan flinched. “I have to go.”

  “Be careful.”

  His gave a brief nod. Then he was gone.

  Juliana watched the dark path where he’d disappeared, her fists clenched so tightly her nails pinched her palms. Maybe it’s just a deer, she told herself. Or a razorback.

  She looked down at the gun he’d given her, turning it over in her hands. With this one act, he’d made it clear that he no longer saw her as his hostage but an equal. He trusted her not to turn on him or, worse, shoot him.

  After yesterday, Juliana wouldn’t even consider using his weapon against him. Lenny Fitzgerald’s presence had changed everything. With that madman in pursuit, she wasn’t about to try to make it on her own.

  She flipped open the chamber to check for bullets. Five and an empty. But wait. There was something jammed into the empty chamber. A small piece of paper. A banknote, perhaps? She’d heard of men doing that. After all, no one was going to get to it unless you were dead.

  Juliana bit her lip. Should she or shouldn’t she? It wasn’t like she was going to steal it. She just wanted a peek.

  Unfurling the paper, she moved into a patch of moonlight in order to read the bold words:

  WANTED:

  $100 REWARD

  FOR THE ARREST AND

  CONVICTION OF EVAN TREY HARRISON.

  SHERIFF AARON TATE

  CADES COVE, TENNESSEE

  She gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth. It couldn’t be!

  Why was she so shocked? He’d never denied being an outlaw. Now she held the hard evidence in her hands. Her disappointment felt like a dull blade jabbing her skin.

  She’d glimpsed tenderness in Evan. And goodness. He was responsible, intelligent, and, yes, even charming when it suited his purposes. The crazy part was that she was attracted to him.

  Face it, Juliana. Deep down inside you wanted this whole thing to be a mistake. You wanted him to be a normal man with a reasonable explanation for kidnapping you.

  Lucky’s protests reached her ears, reminding her that Evan could return at any moment. No way did she want him to find her with this. She rolled it up with unsteady fingers and shoved it back in place.

  Her promise not to move forgotten, she crept through the darkness toward higher ground. She needed to see what was happening. Spying a fallen log at the base of a sycamore tree, she stepped up and braced herself against the trunk. The extra height gave her a clear view of camp. The flames had died down, but there was enough light for her to make out Evan’s tall form and that of his horse.

  Evan was trying to calm him and lead him in her direction. He wasn’t having much success—whatever was out there had Lucky spooked. The horse pranced sideways, the whites of his eyes showing. Not a good sign.

  Watching Evan, Juliana couldn’t help but admire his ability to control the large animal. His shoulder and arm muscles bunched as he held firm to the bridle. He didn’t get angry and lash out. Instead, he held his ground and used quiet tones to soothe the horse’s nerves.

  The wanted poster fresh in her mind, she reminded herself not to forget that he was a common thief. And kidnapper. She couldn’t stop the sigh of relief, however, when they finally began to walk in her direction.

  Backtracking, she reached her prior spot just as Evan and Lucky rounded the corner. He gave her a measuring look but said nothing.

  “What now?” she said, adrenaline pumping. Would her nervousness give her away? He knew, after all, what was hidden in his gun.

  “We find a place where we can watch the campsite without being detected.”

  “How about up there?” She pointed to the place she’d just been, trying for an even tone of voice. “Looks like a good place.”

  Again, he studied her. Then he dipped his head. “Let’s go check it out.”

  He led the way, guiding Lucky. Juliana followed at a close distance. Within minutes they were standing side by side, sheltered by the thick foliage.

  While she felt protected in his presence, she wasn’t entirely at ease. Standing so close to him, she was aware of the hardness of his body, the unleashed power of his muscles. When his shoulder brushed hers, her skin heated. The darkness cloaking them only added to the sense of intimacy.

  He stiffened and sucked in a breath.

  Juliana scanned the forest, but didn’t see a thing. “What is it?” she whispered.

  “Bear.”

  Her heart sped up. Hopefully it was a male. There was nothing more dangerous than to come between a momma bear and her cubs. She searched the area again, paying attention to the dark shadows near the fire. One of the shadows separated from the rest.

  Even from this distance, the black bear looked
menacing. On all fours, the animal was short but stout with a wide block-shaped head, massive shoulders, rounded stomach and legs the size of tree trunks. The bear’s long snout swayed to and fro, sniffing the air.

  When Evan lifted his rifle and took aim, she seized his forearm. “Don’t shoot him!” she hissed. “He’ll leave as soon as he doesn’t find what he’s looking for.”

  “I’m not going to shoot him,” he said without taking his eye off the bear. “I’m going to shoot at him. There’s a difference.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t want him coming back.”

  “We’re not staying here, are we? I won’t be going back to sleep, I assure you.”

  He was silent. Then he said, “It’s nearly dawn anyway. We can head out once I retrieve our things. Still, I want to know for sure he’s long gone while I do that.”

  The blast of the firearm startled her, and she almost lost her footing on the log. She glared over at him. He could’ve given her a warning! He didn’t seem to notice her irritation.

  The bear lumbered back in the direction from which he’d come. Evan lowered his rifle and, curling his fingers around her upper arm, helped her down. “Let’s get out of here.”

  She waited until he’d strapped the rifle onto the back of the saddle to return his six-shooter.

  “Here.” She held it out to him.

  He didn’t immediately take it. “You can hold on to it if you want.”

  Didn’t he remember the wanted poster? “No, thanks.”

  He swept off his hat and plunged his fingers in his hair. “Juliana, you realize I’m not holding you here, don’t you? All I want is to get you home safe and sound. Do you believe me?”

  The logical part of her urged her to remember that he was a crook. A man unworthy of her trust. Her heart sent out a different message—trust him. Straightening her shoulders, she looked him square in the eyes. “I do.”

  “Good. I’m glad.” He looked relieved.

  Again she held out the gun. This time he took it and slid it in his holster. They walked back in silence. As they gathered the bedroll and saddlebags, Juliana kept glancing over her shoulder to check the woods. She couldn’t help but be glad when they were finally back in the saddle.