Lady Outlaw

by Stacy Henrie

  Lifting her head, Jennie forced herself to meet her grandmother’s eyes. “This is one of those times I need help, Grandma. But first, I have to tell you something. Something I’m ashamed to admit...”

  * * *

  Jennie slipped into her room and softly shut the door behind her. She guessed it must be after midnight, but strangely, she felt more awake than she had this morning.

  After changing into her nightdress, she started to climb into bed. The trunk beneath the windowsill drew her notice. A longing to bridge the gap of misunderstanding between her and her mother pushed Jennie to her feet.

  Kneeling before the trunk, she opened the lid and drew out the unopened letter. She stared at the wrinkled surface, imagining her mother’s hands—those soft, delicate hands—sealing her words inside.

  Jennie swallowed the anxiety pulsing through her as she tore open the envelope and removed two sheets of paper, filled with the faded but familiar handwriting of her mother.

  Using the trunk as a seat, she pulled back the curtains and read her letter by moonlight.

  August 10, 1863

  Dearest Jennie,

  I hope this finds you well and happy. Your father wrote and told me what a great help you’ve been to him, and I thank you for it. He also says you’ve grown taller this past year. I can hardly imagine my little girl a grown woman now.

  Your hair has probably darkened, though I imagine it will always stay that rich red color that you inherited from my side of the family. With your pretty brown eyes, I cannot help but think what a beauty you must be. I wish so badly I could see and hold you. Are you too old, daughter, to sit again on your mother’s lap, resting your head against my shoulder as you used to?

  How are Will and Grandma Jones? Be certain to listen to your grandmother; she is a wise woman. Are the cattle faring well? And your father? He seems content enough, but I often wonder what heartache I have inflicted on him and you children.

  Every day I live with the guilt of running away, but I no longer felt capable of being a good mother. I thought returning to my home would heal my heart, but now I’ve found I left it out West with you.

  Never be ashamed, my dear girl, to stumble about sometimes, but also find the courage to ask for help when you need it most. I pray to God each day for forgiveness. I know now I cannot move through life without His help. Remember that, Jennie.

  I have often packed my things with plans to return before I unpack them again. Perhaps it is cowardice of me, but I fear your rejection. Maybe one day I will be able to forgive myself and come home at last. Until then, know I love you. You will be an extraordinary woman, stronger and more capable in that wilderness than I ever was. But leave room in your heart for love and softness too, Jennie. Without both strength and tenderness, you may find life much more difficult.

  Please write, if you wish to. I long for any word from my family. I shall write again soon if I am able. I seem to have left my good health at the ranch, but do not worry. I am to see the doctor here soon, and everything shall be fine.

  All my love,

  Your mother, Olivia Wilson Jones.

  Jennie could hardly make out her mother’s signature through the tears spilling down her face. She’d never wept so much in her life.

  Leaning her head against the cool windowpane, she allowed her anguish to flow uninhibited. She cried for her mother’s pain and for her own, for her selfishness in not reading the letter years earlier, when she could have written back. For so long, she had concentrated only on the hurt she felt, never thinking of the shame and suffering her mother might have experienced.

  “I’m sorry, Mama,” she whispered into the dark, hoping and praying her mother could somehow hear her words, even in heaven. “I should have written. I should have tried to see you, at least once before you died. I’m so very sorry.”

  Jennie covered her mouth with her hand to muffle the sound of her sobs. She didn’t want to wake the rest of the family. When she could breathe normally again, she read the letter through once more, then tucked it again inside the envelope. Instead of putting it in the trunk, she returned to her bed and slipped the precious pages beneath her pillow. To read often.

  She climbed beneath the covers, but a thought made her sit up. Her mother had told her to remember God. That meant voicing to Him the truth she’d told her grandmother and Caleb tonight. His help was the real one she needed in the days ahead. Feeling a bit awkward, she knelt beside her bed, unable to remember the last time she’d gotten down on her knees to pray.

  Perhaps if I’d prayed earlier I wouldn’t be in such a mess. The realization both surprised and humbled her. Bowing her head, she silently reviewed everything she’d done the past eight months, starting with the day she had left the bank, overwhelmed with despair at possibly losing the ranch. When she finished cataloging all her wrongdoings, she tentatively pled for forgiveness.

  Once she ran out of things to say, Jennie ended her prayer and sat on the bed. She felt nothing at first, then slowly a feeling of peace began to spread throughout her body. A feeling similar to the one she’d felt during the singing at church. A feeling almost like an embrace.

  She kept still for a few minutes, hugging her knees to her chest, as she relished the emotion. When it faded, she got into bed, feeling hope for the first time in months.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Caleb woke the next morning feeling like he hadn’t slept much at all. He hadn’t been able to find a comfortable position, and when he had finally drifted to sleep, he had a disturbing dream. It wasn’t his usual nightmare. This time when he burst into the cabin, he found Jennie there with Nathan, wearing a bandanna over her face and carting her pistol.

  She’s given all that up, he reassured himself as he climbed out of bed and got dressed. No matter how troubling his dreams, he’d seen the remorse in Jennie’s eyes last night and felt confident she’d accept his money to help the ranch. Besides, without Nathan around to help her, she’d be forced to give up robbing stage thieves.

  Relieved he wouldn’t have to say goodbye to the family, Caleb hurried down the stairs, eager to see Jennie. He planned to take her into his arms and give her a good, long kiss, even in the company of her brother and grandmother.

  Caleb skidded to a stop inside the kitchen doorway. Grandma Jones and Will were moving about the kitchen getting breakfast onto the table, but Jennie wasn’t there. Alarm began to worm its way up his throat.

  Maybe she’s in the barn, getting an early start on chores.

  “Morning,” he said, relieving the stack of plates from Grandma Jones. As he placed them around the table, he noted there were only three, not four. “Did Jennie eat already?” He kept his voice as casual as he could, despite the sudden pounding of his heart.

  “She left about half an hour ago.” Grandma Jones took a seat and motioned for Will and Caleb to join her. “Said she had some business to take care of in town this morning.”

  Caleb gripped the plate in his hand so hard he thought it might snap. She didn’t still plan to go through with the robbery, did she? No, she wouldn’t. Not after their talk last night, not after he’d given her his hard-earned money. “Will she be long?”

  “Probably most of the day, but she said not to worry.”

  Something in the woman’s green eyes told Caleb that Grandma Jones knew more than she was saying. But she wouldn’t know about Jennie robbing stage thieves, so it didn’t matter what lie her granddaughter had told in order to go to town alone.

  “Sit down, Caleb. Have some biscuits.” It sounded more like a command than a suggestion.

  He shook his head. “I’m not hungry this morning. I think I’ll go out to the barn.” Turning away, he prayed they hadn’t seen the pain seeping into his face.

  Instead of heading outside, Caleb stepped quietly up the stairs to his room. He removed his pack from beside the bureau and opened the top drawer.

  All the betrayal and frustration he’d felt the day before rushed back full force and he had to
stop and take several deep breaths to calm himself. He had forgiven Jennie’s past deeds, but that was when he’d thought she was willing to change her ways. He refused to be a witness to her deceitful and dangerous actions—no matter how much he still cared for her.

  Distance and time would eventually heal his heart—again—though he vowed to be done with love. Too much pain, not to mention the loss of all the money he’d saved. Bitter disappointment cut through him at the thought of having to find another job and putting off his dream of a freight business another year, maybe two.

  Once packed, Caleb shouldered his bag and grabbed his guns. He managed to slip outdoors without Will and Grandma Jones noticing. He planned to saddle up Saul and come back to the house to say goodbye. The waiting horse would show the family he meant to leave—now. He needed to be long gone before Jennie came back. Seeing her again would be too painful.

  He strode with heavy steps to the barn and entered the building. Inside, he set his pack on the ground and grabbed the horse’s tack. Saul pawed at the straw as if sensing Caleb’s eagerness to leave.

  The sound of pounding horse hooves brought up Caleb’s head in time to see a horse and rider rush past. Caleb hurried out of the barn. Who would come to the house this early unless something’s happened? Anxiety for Jennie’s safety filled him.

  “Hello there,” he called to the rider, who’d dismounted near the porch. “Can I help you?”

  The man came around the side of the horse. He didn’t even reach the top of the saddle. Grabbing the lead rope, he led his horse toward Caleb.

  “Do I know you?” Caleb asked. The man didn’t answer, but as he drew closer, Caleb recognized him as one of King’s cowboys—the one called Gunner. “Hold up there a minute. I told Mr. King I wasn’t working for him, and that hasn’t changed. You can hop right back on that horse and leave.” Turning his back to him, Caleb started for the barn.

  “Wait. You’re Miss Jones’s hired hand. There’s somethin’ I need to tell ya.”

  I was more than that to her, at least until yesterday, Caleb thought. “What do you want?”

  Gunner stepped closer as he spoke. “The thieves she’s planning to rob today aren’t really thieves.”

  Caleb’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “How’d you know about that?”

  “Because Mr. King and three of his men are gonna rob that stage. It’s a trap for Miss Jones.”

  Caleb scowled at the cowhand. How he’d like to maim that arrogant rancher. “What does King have against Jennie?”

  Gunner licked his lips and studied the ground. “He wants her land. That’s why he paid off the bank president to call her loan due, why he’s rustled her cattle and why he had me follow her all over town and up to Fillmore.” He threw a guilty glance at Caleb. “When he found out she’s kept her ranch going by robbing stage thieves, King set a trap for her. He knew she couldn’t resist five thousand dollars. He’s gonna rob the stage first and wait for Jennie to come rob him.”

  “Then what?” Caleb’s pulse thundered in his ears as the weight of the cowboy’s confession hit him.

  “He’ll likely shoot her and claim self-defense.”

  Mistrust and worry battled inside Caleb. “Why should I believe you? You’re a cattle thief and a spy.”

  “Even so, I don’t condone murder.” Gunner remounted his horse with surprising ease despite his lack of height. “I gotta go before someone at King’s ranch notices I’m gone.”

  “What stage are they robbing?” Caleb asked. His lingering doubts had disappeared. The cowhand wouldn’t risk his job—and possibly his life—to ride over and tell anything less than the truth.

  “It’s the stage coming east from Pioche, Nevada. King’ll overtake it in Milford Valley before the stage reaches the Mineral Mountains. Good luck to you, cowboy.” With that, he thrust his spurs into his mount’s side and took off at a gallop.

  Caleb sprinted to the house, but he slowed his steps before he entered the kitchen where Will and Grandma Jones lingered at the table.

  “I realized I’ve got some things I need to do in town today myself,” Caleb said, keeping his voice light, despite the urgency pulsing through him.

  “Can I come?” Will’s face lit up with excitement.

  “Not today, Will. With Jennie and I both gone, someone needs to watch the cattle this morning.”

  Will blew out his breath in obvious disappointment, but he nodded acceptance.

  “I shouldn’t be too long.” Caleb moved to the door. “I’ll try to find Jennie, and we can ride back together.”

  Grandma Jones gave him a questioning look, but Caleb simply forced a smile. “Save some supper for us,” he said as walked out the front door.

  Once outside, he let the smile drop from his face as he ran to the barn. Having his horse already saddled saved him time. However much he didn’t agree with Jennie’s actions, he wouldn’t stand back and let her walk into mortal danger.

  I only hope I’m not too late, he thought as he urged Saul toward the distant mountains.

  * * *

  Jennie tied Dandy to the hitching post outside the sheriff’s office. She brushed away the dust sticking to her brown and cream dress and made sure the breeches she had on underneath didn’t show. Her work pants would give her more mobility for the hard ride ahead, but for now, she needed to look the part of a proper young lady.

  Resolved she’d made the right decision, Jennie inhaled a deep breath, tugged her kid gloves into place, and forced her feet in the direction of the door. Anticipation and worry pulled equally at her heart as she turned the handle and stepped into the building.

  A young deputy sat with his boots resting on top of an empty table, one hand drawing his revolver and spinning it back into its holster. When he saw her, he immediately put his gun away, jerked his feet to the floor and sat up straight.

  “Can I help you, miss?”

  Jennie nodded. “I need to speak to the sheriff.”

  The deputy arched an eyebrow in open curiosity as he studied Jennie. “One moment.”

  He rose from his seat and knocked on the inner door situated at his right. After a moment a muffled response came from the other side. The deputy opened the door and stuck his head inside. Jennie could easily hear his words, however quiet.

  “A lady to see you, sir... No, she didn’t say what it’s about... All right. I’ll send her in.” He stepped back into the main office and motioned Jennie forward. “He’ll see you.”

  Jennie thanked him and strode purposefully into the tiny room. A man with a drooping, sandy-colored mustache and a silver star attached to his waistcoat stood up from his desk.

  “Come in, miss. Let me get you a seat.”

  The sheriff plucked a hardback chair from the corner and positioned it in front of his desk. He motioned for Jennie to sit down while he shut the door.

  “Now what can I do for you?” he asked, taking his seat behind the desk again.

  Jennie swallowed hard—there was no going back now that she was here.

  “I’ve come to inform you about a stage robbery taking place today.”

  The lines on the man’s forehead bunched together in consternation as he eased back into his chair. “A stage robbery? Today?”

  “That’s correct.” Jennie kept her gaze steady on his blue-gray eyes.

  He studied her, the corners of his mouth lifting in hidden amusement. “You mind sharing a few more details with me, Miss...”

  “Jones,” she finished. “I’m afraid that’s all the information I can give you at the moment, sheriff, unless you agree to help me with something.”

  “Is that right?” He joined his hands to form a steeple and tapped his index fingers against his chin.

  Bestowing a ladylike smile, she leaned forward. “I am more than happy to share everything you need to apprehend the bandits and keep a very large sum of money safe if...” She paused long enough to secure his full attention. “If you’ll agree not to press charges against me.”

&nbs
p; This time the sheriff did laugh, but it trailed off when she didn’t join in. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “Very serious.”

  He shook his head, a smile still peeking out beneath his mustache. “And what sort of fiendish behavior are we talking about, Miss Jones? Selling whiskey to the Indians? Sneaking milk from a neighbor’s cow?”

  Jennie tried not to appear offended. He certainly underestimated what she was capable of, but he also held the key—or the lock—to her freedom.

  “No, sir.” She lowered her head, staring hard at a particularly large knot in the wood of the desk. You can do this, she told herself. It’s the right thing to do, no matter what he chooses to do afterward. She thought of Caleb and the admiration on his face once she told him about coming to the sheriff, even if it was from behind bars. The thought of his reaction gave her the courage to lift her chin.

  “I’ve been robbing stage thieves.”

  * * *

  When she’d finished telling the sheriff the particulars of her financial troubles and the different robberies, purposely leaving off mention of Nathan, Jennie slumped back into her chair and waited for the man to cast his judgment. He sat quiet for almost a minute. Jennie fiddled with her gloves as she waited, her heart thumping louder in the ensuing silence.

  “Very interesting account, Miss Jones.” The sheriff bent forward and plucked at the end of his mustache. “We don’t take stealing lightly around here. I could throw you in one of our jail cells right now.”

  Jennie swallowed hard, pushing the words out of her throat with effort, “Yes, sir.”

  “But I understand you’re in a hard way and I don’t want to see your kid brother and grandmother suffer any more.” His face relaxed. “I also admire your gumption for wantin’ to make things right.”

  A tiny puff of air escaped Jennie’s lips, and she realized she’d been holding her breath.