Last Chance Cowboys: The Outlaw
Page 2
He’d have to make sure he avoided any further contact.
* * *
Amanda barely heard the conversation running between her mother and Eliza as they ate lunch. She was still thinking about the stranger.
A few weeks earlier, when she’d visited Addie, she had seen him from her friend’s bedroom window. He’d been standing across the street, not far from the jail. He’d looked dangerous, and at the same time, there had been something about him that made Amanda unable to look away.
That day she had observed him from a distance. Standing right next to him was a different experience entirely. It had, quite frankly, taken her breath away.
“Of course, taking the position to tutor these children would mean a move to Tucson, and Amanda knows no one there,” Eliza was saying. “Wouldn’t you be terribly lonely, Amanda?”
“Addie and Jess might make Tucson their home one day, if he gets himself elected and Addie can set up her practice,” her mother interjected. “And with Addie all involved in that jail reform project of hers, they go there at least once a month now.”
“Maybe they know someone willing to rent a room,” Eliza suggested. “Or it’s possible that room and board are part of the salary.”
“I haven’t even applied yet,” Amanda reminded them, but the way her mother barely glanced at her before continuing her conversation with Eliza told her that the decision had already been made well before now. “You tricked me,” she said. “You and Doc Wilcox have already set this in motion.”
Eliza grinned while Constance Porterfield pursed her lips and frowned. “I wouldn’t say that I deceived you. I did have a conversation with Doc, and we did go over the pros and cons of your applying. He said he would speak to his friend—Mr. Baxter—in Tucson, and in the end…”
“In the end, don’t I get some say?”
“Not really,” her mother replied. “Not unless you want to spend another season on the ranch where, with your younger brother off sketching canyons and waterfalls in Yellowstone, we are short-handed, and there is the distinct possibility that you might be called on to take his chores. That is more a probability now that Maria is expecting and unable to do her usual level of work, as if she were any man.”
“I am not Maria,” she reminded her mother through gritted teeth.
She was so weary of her perfect sister’s ability to do pretty much anything she set her mind to. Amanda had long ago understood that, as far as neighbors and friends were concerned, her own role in the family was that of “the pretty one.” But lately, instead of being flattered by this, the label had begun to irritate her. Recently, she’d been reading about some women in the East who had been active abolitionists during the war and then turned their attention to the fight for a woman’s right to vote. The point was that women were beginning to stand up and speak out, which appealed to her. She saw a possibility to be more than just the pretty one.
“No,” her mother replied, placing a gentle hand on Amanda’s clenched fist. “You are not your sister, and more’s the good in that. You have gifts of nurturing and inspiring others that she cannot equal, Amanda, and now you have the opportunity to share those unique talents with the Baxter children. Do you have any idea how very proud your father would be of you?”
Amanda knew when she was being hoodwinked. Her mother was a master at the craft. Everyone knew how devoted Amanda had been to her father—how much she had strived to please him. Invoking his memory—and the promise of his approval—always worked.
“You don’t play fair,” Amanda muttered.
“I know,” her mother admitted. “But I always do what I think best for you—what I think your father would want for your happiness. The truth is that you are miserable these days, so why wouldn’t you leap at the opportunity to change your surroundings?”
“But teaching? I mean, how does that differ from me taking care of Max?” They had adopted little Max when his mother deserted him after accusing Chet of being the father. Once that lie had been debunked, she’d run off with their foreman, leaving her child behind. To Amanda, Max had become another younger brother, and more often than not, watching over him had been her responsibility.
Eliza laughed. “The difference is that you will be helping the Baxter children learn, and believe me, from what Doc said, you will have your work cut out for you.”
Amanda realized how little she knew of the proposed job. “How old are these children, and what does their father do? And why do the Baxters need a private tutor for their children in the first place?”
She saw her mother exchange a glance with Eliza. “The children are twins—a boy and a girl. I believe Doc said they were around fourteen. They…”
“Fourteen? That’s practically grown,” Amanda protested.
“Yes, well, Mrs. Baxter died several months ago,” her mother explained. “Mr. Baxter owns a bank in Tucson so he’s away from home a good deal, and he needs help. They have a housekeeper, but she is not educated, and he wants the best for his children, especially the boy.”
“And where will I live?”
“There’s a boardinghouse. Doc has apparently proposed your room and board as part of your compensation.”
“A boardinghouse?”
“You wanted a little independence,” Eliza reminded her. “I should think the arrangement is far better than being offered a room in the Baxter house.”
She had a point. “What if it doesn’t work out with the Baxter children?”
Her mother cupped her cheek. “Oh, Amanda, how could they resist you? I know you’ll find ways to win their loyalty. You’ll be quite wonderful.”
Eliza seemed less convinced. “Just remember that children—especially those who are truly bright—have been known to use their intelligence for testing authority rather than for learning.”
“Not unlike you, Amanda,” her mother said as she cleared away the dishes from their lunch and repacked the hamper.
Amanda had to admit that life in a town the size of Tucson was likely to offer far more opportunities for adventure than staying at the ranch. And there was a bonus. Maria wouldn’t be there to boss her around. And with the territory on track for statehood sooner rather than later, it occurred to Amanda that there might be an organization of women there willing to fight for the right to vote. She could perhaps join forces with them. She could also help Addie with jail reforms. In short, she could reinvent herself in a community where no one knew her.
“Well, I suppose I could at least apply,” she said, making sure she included an edge of grudging willingness in her tone. Of course, she didn’t fool her mother for one minute.
“Excellent. However, let us be clear on one matter,” Constance Porterfield said in that low, calm voice she reserved for laying down the law to her children. “If you do this, you are going there to teach these children. I saw how you set your eyes on that young man who just left, and if for one minute you think taking this job will give you the opportunity to find romance—especially with someone like that—think again.”
“Oh, Mama, I don’t know where you get these ideas, but—”
Her mother dismissed further discussion with a wave of her hand. “As soon as we have finished our shopping, we will pay a call on Addie. Hopefully, she will agree to keep an eye on you. And if Jess wins the election, and they move there, I have no doubt that your brother will make sure you behave appropriately.” It was obvious to Amanda that her mother had looked at this matter from every possible angle.
“Addie is my friend and sister-in-law, not my keeper,” she snapped.
“She is also mature beyond her years, and I know I can trust her to make sure you remain focused on your duties and not on some handsome but highly inappropriate suitor. I warn you now, Amanda, if I hear of one encounter with any wild young stranger, even by chance, I will come to Tucson myself and haul you back to the ranch.”
“There are bound to be eligible men in Tucson, and they will all be strangers to me,” Amanda protested. “I can hardly avoid them.”
“You can avoid young men like that Grover fella, and you will.”
“When Chet Hunter showed up at the ranch, and Maria started…”
“I was half out of my head with grief over your father when Chet came. You know that.”
“I also know that things worked out just fine for Maria and her stranger, so why should there be so much fuss about me and…” She had gone too far and realized it the minute she saw her mother give Eliza an I-told-you-so look of triumph. “Not that I have a care what any man thinks or does,” she hurried to add.
Both Eliza and her mother snorted with derision. “Your mouth to God’s ears,” her mother said. “Now let’s see about buying you a dress that’s proper for a schoolmarm. Something with deep pockets, I should think.”
“I thought I was here to buy a party dress,” Amanda said.
“Oh, all right, we’ll buy one of each.”
By the time they headed back to the ranch late that afternoon, Amanda’s life had taken a complete turnabout. She was newly outfitted with not one but two dresses, Doc had assured her that an interview with Ezra Baxter was a mere formality, and Addie had solemnly agreed to be her jailer. Although, as soon as Amanda’s mother turned away, she had squeezed Amanda’s hand and grinned as she had when the two of them had been girls playing together.
Her brother, on the other hand, had scowled at her. “I can’t have any trouble, Amanda. If I’m gonna be running for sheriff and…”
“Your sister knows how important the election is for you, Jess. It shouldn’t be too much to ask that you watch out for her once you gain the office and you and Addie move to Tucson.” Their mother had a way of simply assuming that once any one of her children set sights on something it would be achieved.
“I could campaign for you,” Amanda suggested, giving her brother a teasing smile.
“Don’t do me any favors,” he grumbled as he kissed her cheek and then held the door open for them.
Once outside Doc’s office, Amanda spotted Mr. Grover. He was sitting outside the saloon, his boots propped on the hitching rail and his hat covering most of his face. She had the oddest feeling he was watching her and only pretending to nap.
Her mother had deliberately steered her toward the opposite side of the street that ran along the plaza—a move she would have made under any condition to avoid walking past the saloon. Once they had returned to the mercantile to collect their packages and bid Eliza farewell, she saw that the stranger had moved on and was now standing outside the livery around the corner from Eliza’s store, talking to the blacksmith about the horse he was examining. She and her mother climbed onto the wagon, and she picked up the reins.
“Eyes to the front, young lady,” her mother muttered as they passed the livery, and the cowboy dressed all in black tipped his hat—proof that she had been right to think he was watching her.
On the ride back to the ranch, she couldn’t stop thinking about the man. When they were shopping, she’d heard Eliza whisper to her mother that it was probably a good thing Amanda would be leaving Whitman Falls. Eliza had been sent a wanted poster that pictured a Sam Grover to post in her store that also served as the local postal station.
“He’s suspected of being part of a gang of notorious outlaws,” she had whispered. “Grover’s not that common a name around these parts. There has to be some connection, and if they are related, the young outlaw most likely learned his ways from his brother, don’t you think?”
Eliza also said that when she had repeated her suspicions to Jess, he promised to keep a close eye on the stranger. “The man has taken a room above the saloon, and word is that he’s an accomplished card player, as well as a fast draw with that black-handled gun.” All this information was exchanged while the two older women thought Amanda was trying on dresses and bonnets and too absorbed in her shopping to hear their conversation.
But she had heard it all, and she was well aware that with every new detail revealed about him, she should have been disgusted. The truth was that she was absolutely fascinated, and the idea that he—and whatever adventure might be following him—would be in Whitman Falls, while she was in Tucson, was the one detail that dampened her enthusiasm for her new circumstances.
* * *
It didn’t take Seth long to learn why the Porterfield women had been in town. He felt some sympathy for the folks in Tucson because the younger one was trouble that came packaged in a tall, slender body tied up with a mass of strawberry blond hair that reminded him of the heat at high noon. She had a pair of green eyes that seemed to see everything and like most of what she saw. Seth knew that look, having seen it often enough on his younger brother’s face. He’d be willing to bet that Amanda Porterfield thrived on excitement.
She had also led a sheltered life, if he was any judge of her mother’s influence. That combination, along with her breaking free of her mother’s apron strings to live away from home, could make her reckless. And still, knowing all of that, he could not shake off the fact that she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, with a fire in her eye, and a way of looking at a man that made him feel anywhere from a couple of inches to ten feet tall, depending on her mood.
The news that she was moving to Tucson to teach some rich man’s kids troubled Seth. The fact that he had just that morning gotten word that had him looking at a move to Tucson as well could complicate matters.
“Best keep your distance, Grover,” he muttered to himself as he stepped inside the saloon where the owner, Miss Lilly, was seated at a table studying the ledger her manager and bartender, Pete Townsend, kept for her.
“You know how to read, cowboy?” In spite of their long friendship, Lillian understood the need to treat Seth as if he were just another stranger.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Any good with figures?”
“Pretty good.”
Miss Lillian kicked the chair opposite her away from the round table and motioned for him to sit. “Take a look at these. Tell me what you see.”
Seth was aware of Pete wiping glasses with a dish towel and scowling at his boss. “Don’t you trust me, Miss Lilly?” Pete asked.
“I make it my business not to trust anybody. Nothing personal, Pete.” She shoved the ledger toward Seth. Pete threw down the towel and stalked out the back door.
“Now, Lilly, what’s your problem with Pete? You’ve known the man for a decade or more, and in all that time, you’ve never found fault with his bookkeeping.”
Lilly grinned, and after a glance toward the back door, whispered, “Had to have some excuse to talk to you, Seth.” She leaned closer. “I heard talk earlier today that a couple of them robbers you been stalking may be headed this way herding a dozen horses or so. Sounds like they mean to hole up somewhere in the area and get ready to make a fresh strike before crossing the border. I figure that’s the reason for rounding up spare horses—they’ll need fresh mounts for the escape. And take a look at this,” she added, pushing a crumpled bill across the table.
Seth studied the money, noting the serial number. He had a memory for numbers and knew instantly that the bill had come from a robbery committed a month earlier. “Who passed this?”
“One of those two playing cards with you and Gus last night.”
Seth had no reason to question Lilly’s information. The two had worked together on other cases before she’d bought the saloon in Arizona. On one such case, she had saved his life, throwing a heavy glass beer mug at a man about to stab Seth as he fought off two others in a brawl. The minute he’d walked into her saloon, the Dandy Doodle, one night when the place was filled with customers, she’d played her role to perfection. She’d made a point of acting like she’d never seen him before but sure didn’t like what she was seeing now.
She’d rented him a room, saying at the first sign of trouble she would evict him, and he might as well know right away she did not tolerate card sharks or cheaters in her place. All of it a well-rehearsed act for the benefit of her other customers.
“Did you hear anything they said after I left?”
“Not them, but another customer who stopped in earlier today was jawing about a gang having been seen north and east of here—Texas, maybe—and heading south.”
“Why was he talking about it at all?”
“He’d come in on the stage and heard about the robberies. It’s gossip, I know, Seth, but you can’t discount it altogether.”
Seth nodded. He was piecing together the information he’d been gathering ever since arriving in Whitman Falls. He still thought the next hit would be either the delivery of the payroll to Fort Lowell or the train that bypassed town on its way to Tucson. On the other hand, there was also the possibility they would go after the delivery of payment to miners in the hills closer to Tucson—a payroll that would come by train and then be transferred by mule to the mines. Trouble was, he couldn’t be in two places at once. He’d have to gamble.
He picked up a deck of cards. “Pick one, Lilly,” he said, fanning the cards in front of her. She slid one out, looked at it, and laid it face down on the table.
“One more,” he instructed, and after she’d chosen, he shuffled the cards. “The card there on the left is Tucson. On the right is staying here.” He dealt two cards, placing them face up on top of Lilly’s—a four of spades on her Tucson card and the king of hearts on Whitman Falls. He let out a breath, certain that the decision had been made.
“Looks like I stay put,” he said, reaching for the cards.
“Not so fast, cowboy,” Lilly said with a grin. She flipped her card for staying in town over—it was the ace of diamonds, beating his king. Then she turned over the Tucson card to show the three of clubs. He’d won with a four.
“Pack your saddlebags, Seth. Looks like you’re headed for Tucson.”