The Outlaw's Second Chance

by Angie Dicken

  But when he’d followed his brother’s unruly ways all over West Texas, he was tightly knit to everything that defined a Stanton—and there was nothing wise about it. If a brawl was going to take place, then the Stanton brothers were there to get things started. If a softy was coming into town, well, may as well take advantage of his naïveté and swindle a few dollars for the next adventure. Foolish was definitely a good word to sum up everything about the Cort Stanton of those days and his kin that he despised.

  The only good thing that came out of that foolishness was the accidental run-in with a cattle drive when they had planned for him to be a distraction while his brother stole a horse. The drive’s cookie had needed a hand, and Cort needed an escape from a lifetime of mistakes.

  Oh, how Cort prayed that the Stanton foolishness died that night he took the blame for his brother’s crime.

  He filled his canteen before heading to his dugout. The crimson rays of the setting sun were cut off by the rising embankment along the creek bed. No more light followed him, just the gloomy shade of dusk.

  “Lord, remind me who I am in You.” Right now, Cort felt as big as an ant beneath a giant sole. He may have been noble during his days on John Buford’s Wyoming ranch, but he had relapsed to his cowardly ways just a few days ago, when he’d given away his own land.

  Aubrey had every right to disrespect him. There was nothing noble or respectable about giving up all this land. It was foolishness.

  He ran his hand through his hair and tossed his canteen into the back of his dugout. At least she’d tried her best to take the noble way, working from the ground up. Even trying to earn money to do so. So what if she’d taken it on all at once? The fact remained that she was walking in perseverance. He was blessed by her. Her example reminded Cort that honest work was all that he had now. It’d be right to spend the rest of his days working honestly. However many days he had left.

  He set his hat down and put his hands behind his head before lying back on the packed earth.

  “Stay away from a fool, for you will not find knowledge on their lips.”

  If Aubrey took Mrs. Parsons’s advice, she’d be a wise woman.

  Stay away from this fool, Cort thought.

  He’d belittled her hard work after she’d finally started giving him a chance to help her.

  He had to make things right. There might not be an ounce of wisdom to be found in this cowboy, but at least he knew how to offer an apology.

  * * *

  Aubrey helped Ben wash up before daylight slipped away with twilight. They settled in their small space while crickets began to chirp.

  “I don’t want any more of that medicine,” Ben muttered through chapped lips.

  “Why?”

  “I’d rather deal with the pain than feel like my head is heavier than the whole prairie on top of us. Besides, my senses need to be sharp with that cowboy about.”

  Aubrey nearly grunted. “Ben Huxley, do not worry about that man. He is harmless.” Except that he seemed obliged to express his opinion without invitation.

  “Why do you stick up for him? He broke my leg.”

  “And why did he? You were relentless,” she snapped.

  “I did it for you. It was for your land.” A flicker of hurt crossed his gaze.

  “Well, you weren’t supposed to be here, were you?”

  “But I am. You care more about this land than about me.”

  “What?” All the steam Cort had stirred up in her earlier billowed now. “Why does everyone have an opinion about my priorities?” She threw down the ribbon from her braid. “I am trying my best, Ben.”

  Aubrey tried to storm out of the dugout as best as she could. There wasn’t much room with Ben lying across the entrance, and her threadbare quilt was hardly slam-worthy. But she needed to clear her mind and her conscience. She stepped into the creek bed and swiveled around, nearly running into Cort. She stumbled backward.

  He reached out and steadied her by the elbow. “Aubrey, I need to speak with you.”

  Standing tall and lean, the man was just a shadow piercing a soft swath of moonlight. No matter how straight she kept her spine, Aubrey’s whole self was eclipsed by his height. For a slight moment, she felt dainty and feminine, unwillingly thrilled in the presence of this strong cowboy.

  And then she remembered his insult. Her pretty little head was keeping her from making wise decisions.

  “What is it, Mr. Stanton?” She refused to be affected by his good looks any longer. She turned her chin up and surveyed the speckled skyline above the embankment where she’d hoped to build her home, if only she had a bridge. She’d consider turning her present house into a barn after winter and build a bridge. There had to be a more peaceful place to build a permanent structure than right next door to the nosy cowboy.

  “I wanted to apologize for discouraging you from your efforts.” He leaned his elbow up on the rocky wall beside them. “The Big Man upstairs wouldn’t let me have one wink until I settled with you first. Your determination is inspiring, Aubrey.” He cast a look across the shadowy creek bed toward the rest of Aubrey’s acreage. She suspected there was a storm in his silvery jade eyes, one that swept away her own animosity and sparked a curious awe for her tenant.

  “That’s thoughtful of you, Cort,” she said, then swallowed hard. He’d once again spoken like a faithful man. A rugged, on-the-run, faithful cowboy. “I’ve hardly ever received an apology.” She sighed and crossed her arms. “Seems my quick tongue provokes me to give them on most occasions.”

  He tipped his hat back. The night sky’s glow washed over his chiseled face.

  They were caught in this strange arrangement together, and while it sometimes felt like a trap, right now it seemed like a divine plan. Cort’s kindness was like a salve to the blisters of Aubrey’s own heart—wounds that toughened her and inspired her to work harder toward Mama’s dream. They’d hurt so bad, only growing her determination to strive. But now God had placed in her life this man who’d turned her skepticism of others upside down. How could anyone be this honorable?

  “I’ve not received many apologies in my time, either,” he said. “Seems that’s something you and I have in common.” He studied her in a serious way. “After some time away from troublemakers in Texas, the man who’d led me to faith told me to always admit when I’m wrong. He said that it was a safeguard to fewer mistakes in the future.” He let out a soft chuckle. “He was my boss...before you.”

  “That’s fine advice.” She wanted to engrave it in the dry earth of the rocky bank and ponder it every morning before her words got the best of her. An owl hooted in agreement.

  Cort scuffed the toe of his boot back and forth in the dusty earth, not seeming to go anywhere anytime soon. She should say good-night but her soles were firmly set. Nothing but her good sense told her it was time to go. A whisper in her heart urged her to know more about this man. “Where’d you go after Texas?”

  “Clear up to Wyoming. Part of a cattle drive. Those were good times.” A reminiscent smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I’d never seen so many stars in my life.”

  They both cocked their heads up toward the heavens. Shiny sequins decorated the sky. Cort shook his head. “Nope, not near as many as on that drive. I think God was prepping me for His introduction in the spring of ̓92.”

  Her breath caught in her throat. She let it out with discretion as she remembered her own encounter with a star-filled sky. “I remember a particularly starry night under which God met me, too.” It was when she’d lain on her granddaddy’s porch after a long day of revival at church. “God shows up in His creation, doesn’t He?” She continued to stare upward, trying to ignore Cort’s attention across the small space between them.

  “He showed up all the time in Wyoming. My boss never let a moment go by without recognizing the blessing
s around us. I try to follow suit.”

  She couldn’t look up any longer. Before succumbing to his gaze, she searched the blackness beyond him.

  “I’ve never been surrounded by so much...blessing,” Aubrey whispered. Finally, she locked eyes with the handsome man before her. If she was brave enough, she’d acknowledge him to be a blessing. But to show such vulnerability to him? That wasn’t brave at all.

  No, this wasn’t about courage, was it? It was about weakness. She couldn’t give up this venture for the softening of her heart. Take her eye off the prize? Well, even though she was trapped in a staring contest with Cort Stanton, she had to remember that the true prize was hers—on the title of the deed. Cort might not stick around, but what she’d won was permanent.

  “Aubrey, you’ve been such a blessing to your brother. And to me.”

  “How have I been a blessing to you?” Aubrey could hardly blink. He’d gone and said what she’d dared not say. Yet she had many more reasons to speak up. Everything about Cort’s way with words made her feel needy. She’d won the hundred and sixty acres. Why did she feel in want? It was something he had that she didn’t. Faith, not only in God, but in others.

  The space between them shrank to inches, and Cort held her hand. This time, she didn’t wriggle it away. This time, she was frantic to hear any justification for him to think so well of her. She wouldn’t let go until she was certain his explanation was deserved.

  “You’ve given me a home, Aubrey. A place to call home until...”

  “Until?”

  “Until it’s time for me to go.”

  She stiffened, remembering another reason she must guard herself from growing an attachment. He was running from the law. He could be snatched up any moment. She had to brace herself for that. She’d felt loss before. Her mother’s death had crushed her heart to the fine grains of prairie dust. She must only focus on the ranch. But when he released her hand, her heart lurched as if he’d stolen whatever heart dust she had left.

  “Cort, you’ve proved to be a good man, regardless of the fact that you might leave.” Her mouth went dry. “I wish my brother could see that.” He’d made her dream come true and continued to prove himself worthy of gratitude. “You don’t know how much your consideration has meant to me.”

  He slid his hands across her arms. Warmth filled every corner of her soul. He lowered his head closer, their noses barely touching.

  She gathered her remaining fragment of courage as she melted in his arms. “You will be missed.”

  His brows tilted and his eyes widened with surprise. “I don’t want to be missed, Aubrey.”

  “Well, I don’t want to miss you, either, believe me.” She tried to pull away, realizing she might have been too vulnerable. But he tugged her close again. She should protest, but the only place she wanted to be was in his arms. His lips pressed firmly against hers, soft and strong just like Cort. His mouth’s delicate caress rewarded her for speaking her heart and not her mind. If ever there was a chance to taste strength, it was in his firm, determined lips. He drew her in and she indulged deeper in their sweetness, in the gentle touch of this ever-surprising cowboy.

  When he pulled away, disappointment met her—but only for a second. He brushed his mouth across her cheekbone and her uncontrollable smile grew.

  “Aubrey, you can’t miss me,” Cort muttered against her cheek.

  Her eyes fluttered closed as she leaned her cheek against his. “Well, then, don’t kiss me like that.”

  His dark face filled up every corner of her sight and he kissed her nose. With a half-cocked smile he whispered, “Fine. I won’t,” and began to step back.

  “Wait.” She tugged at his collar, picked herself up on tiptoe, brushed his lips with hers once more and managed to finally admit, “You’re a blessing to me, too.”

  She slipped away, not daring to look back on the face that tempted her too much. Ducking into the dugout, she carefully stepped over Ben, who let out a steady snore. Nothing about Aubrey was steady. Her heart was erratic, and her stomach filled with a stampede of butterflies. But it was her mind that she couldn’t escape. And it wasn’t frantic with excitement, but crumbling with disappointment.

  One more distraction to contend with on the prairie, and it was the man who promised he wasn’t sticking around. She’d never cared for any man before, and now, when God seemed to place this helping cowboy in her path, she’d gone and kissed him. Tying her heartstrings to his was only securing a future bout of mourning when he’d leave.

  Perhaps a good night’s rest was all she needed. The hard work and heat of today had made her weak in the presence of a handsome man, just like those kinds of women she despised.

  Aubrey drifted into a deep sleep and woke to the gray light of dawn, ready to start the day on a different foot. She busied about making breakfast for Ben, beginning to feel like herself again. As she walked up the path along the ridge, she noticed Cort heading toward the Hickses. By midmorning, she set out to explore the extent of her land now that she had a horse.

  Galloping in the open prairie enlivened Aubrey’s passion for the ranch. She sliced through the warm wind, dreaming of the place she’d create for Mama and redevoting herself to the plan she’d carried across the Kansas state line to the camp at Kiowa. With empty pockets worrying her and cowboys stealing her attention, this ride into her dream-come-true was a good reminder of the prize she’d set out to obtain.

  But by the afternoon, Cort’s suntanned arms as he stacked the bricks of his home in the Oklahoma heat threatened to distract her good sense again. She galloped past him, averting her attention as much as possible. He waved, then continued building the first wall of his soddie, placing the chunks of sod on top of each other grass-side down, exposing the wiry root structure to the elements.

  The lingering scent from the early morning fire was reminiscent of a wintry aroma and a season when darkness fell early. She’d be alone with her sewing then, if she could gather customers, and behind her own four walls to separate her from this cowboy.

  Cort dragged his arm across his forehead then stretched his back into a strong arch. He started to walk toward her. A flash of knowing caught the glint in his eye as he stood opposite her. Did he regret their kiss last night? She was trying to, as well. But it was a difficult thing to regret. “Priorities, right? We’ve got a lot of work on our hands.” He spoke like a schoolteacher. She understood his meaning now. And it had nothing to do with work or Ben or Aubrey’s dream. No, they couldn’t focus on last night, just on the work ahead. Was it as difficult for Cort as it was for her? After all, she’d never been kissed by a man. Quite like that, anyway. He gave an assuring smile, frightening away any insecurity.

  Cort thumbed his suspenders and said, “Want to get going on your plot?”

  “Sure,” she declared as confidently as she could, trying to borrow some of his unwavering work ethic.

  Aubrey began to plow the clearing between their homes. There would be a flat dirt yard once the sod was used. Much more practical than wading through the tall prairie grasses.

  The heat was torturous. Whenever she needed to check on Ben, she was thankful for the creek. Dipping her handkerchief in the warm water, she’d pretend it was cool then place it on the back of her neck. But more than refreshment, she took these moments to clear her head from the racing on to thoughts of the man she worked next to. Aubrey tried to convince herself that he wasn’t worth her thinking time, but it was difficult. Especially since he’d turned her criticisms about men roots-side up, just like the sod bricks he’d been stacking all afternoon.

  Chapter Nine

  Over the next two weeks, noon became a coveted time. Cort would finish up helping the Hickses and then continue working on his own house. Building his own home was like molding his heart outside of his chest. This house was a symbol of the weathered past becoming a
useful and humble present. And building it alongside a beautiful landowner wasn’t so bad, either. Together, Aubrey and Cort cut sod. He forbade his mind to wander, focusing only on the bricks of earth that began to form the kitchen wall. Even though that kiss haunted him with a large measure of joy and a heavy brick of regret.

  His emotions were taking his reason hostage. A cowboy like Cort knew the danger in that. If his reason didn’t wrestle free soon, more than his own heart would suffer. Aubrey’s happiness was at stake, too.

  He squatted down on the opposite side of the row she’d just plowed. “How is it coming?” The sun baked their patch of homestead, and he slung back his canteen.

  “Fine. Too bad we can’t get the plow in the morning. The sod wouldn’t crumble so.”

  “True.” He offered Aubrey a drink.

  “Did you speak with Mrs. Hicks about a dress?” She fidgeted with her apron and nibbled her lip.

  He still thought she was taking on a whole lot of responsibility, but he also admired her for it. For some reason, when he pitched Aubrey’s business venture to Mrs. Hicks, his pride swelled for his landlady. He’d seen Aubrey’s work ethic over these past weeks and knew she was good for it. And her eagerness to work and thrive resonated with Cort’s own desperation to toil and survive. “How long have you been wanting to ask me about Mrs. Hicks?” He narrowed his eyes, smiling wide.

  Aubrey snapped her vision in line with his. She straightened up and stuck her hands on her hips. “Well, I’d just assumed you’d mention her answer on your own.”

  He stood. “You’re right. Not considerate of me in the least.”

  Her mouth opened then shut. “Well?”

  “Of course she’d hire you. Said she can only manage small projects with her arthritis.”

  “Really?” She clasped her hands together.

  Cort laughed forcefully, pushing away the wildfire sparked by her excitement.

  “Oh, thank you for asking,” she said.