Lady Outlaw

by Stacy Henrie

  A memory propelled itself forward in his mind—something his father had said to him once. “If you’ve lost control of your horse, turn him in a nice, tight circle. Horses can’t bolt when they’re turning.”

  With no other choice, Caleb all but dropped the left rein and pulled the right with every last ounce of strength. Please, God, let this work. Let me see Jennie again. Let these people be safe.

  “Come on, horses,” he muttered, sweat forming beneath his hat.

  The coach swung around sharply, one wheel teetering on the brink of the gully before righting itself. Then the stage shuddered to an abrupt stop.

  Caleb pried open his hands and released the reins. He collapsed onto the seat behind him. We did it, You and me, Lord. He released a huge rush of air from his lungs. “That was for you, Liza,” he whispered to the blue sky above him.

  A groan from the injured man brought Caleb’s attention back to the task at hand. “How badly are you hurt?”

  “I was shot...in the leg.” The man’s face turned a shade whiter. “We were...ambushed... Ol’ Phil was shot, too...he fell off.”

  Caleb figured Ol’ Phil must be the stage driver and this wounded fellow was the shotgun messenger, sent to guard the money.

  He assessed the man’s wound and removed the bandanna from around his own neck. “I’m no doctor, but it looks like the bullet went straight through. I’ll tie it up for you until you can get to town.” Caleb secured the cloth around the bloodied leg. “There you are. Now I’d better go check on the others.”

  The shotgun rider nodded as Caleb lowered himself to the ground, a much simpler task now that the stage wasn’t moving.

  “So glad you came along, stranger,” the dark-haired girl said as she exited the stage. She could almost be Liza, minus the curly hair and saloon gown. “You maneuvered that climb easier than I would’ve in this dress.” She lifted the ruffled bottom and laughed.

  “Is everyone all right?” Caleb tried to see inside the stage.

  A blond girl hopped down the steps. “Thanks to you, we’re right as rain. Don’t know about Mr. Fulman though.” She gave an indignant sniff. “He sat there the whole time, screamin’ and shakin’ like a leaf. Apparently he’s got no stomach for adventure or danger, not like Ellen and me.”

  As if on cue, a tall, bony man bent his way out of the stage, his face pale. “Are they gone?”

  Caleb whistled for his horse. A minute passed before Saul trotted up, appearing no worse for their adventure. “How many bandits were there?”

  “Four,” Mr. Fulman said, sinking to the ground next to the stage. “They stole the cash box. All five thousand dollars.” He covered his face with his hands and moaned.

  “The sheriff should be along soon to help you,” Caleb said, mounting his horse. Now that his head and arms were no longer throbbing, he was impatient to get going. A nagging worry at the back of his mind was growing more insistent by the minute. If he knew Jennie, she might not wait for the sheriff. “I’m sorry I can’t stay.”

  “Where you off to in such a hurry?” Ellen asked.

  “I’m going to help my...girl. She already followed after the bandits to see about getting the money back.”

  The blonde laughed. “No offense, but every one of them men were armed. How are you and your girl gonna take them all?”

  Before Caleb could answer, the shotgun messenger called down, “Name’s Amos. With this busted-up leg, I can’t do much, but I’d like to help just the same.”

  “Thanks, Amos,” Caleb said, admiring the man’s determination to be of assistance despite his injury, “but—”

  “Clara and I want to help, too,” Ellen interjected. “We both know how to throw a hard punch.”

  Caleb frowned at the motley group. He didn’t think the shotgun messenger would be of much help, but the girls might prove to be useful. “All right. Load back up then.” He turned to the depressed bank man. “What about you, Mr. Fulman? You comin’ with us or waitin’ here for the sheriff?”

  Mr. Fulman peered nervously around the prairie, then his face hardened. “I want my money back.”

  “You know how to drive a team?”

  The bank man nodded.

  “Then get up there and follow me.”

  Mr. Fulman scrambled up next to Amos on the seat and maneuvered the stage around. Caleb pointed Saul north and nudged the horse’s flanks with his heels. The stage had better keep up. He and Jennie had been apart long enough. It was time to beat Mr. King at his own game.

  Chapter Twenty

  Jennie tied Dandy to a tree, a safe distance from the ramshackle cabin. Four horses were tethered out front, but she saw no sign of King or his men. Licking her lips, Jennie drew in several deep breaths.

  I’m only going to check out the situation, she reassured herself as she removed her pistol from the holster on her saddle. Nothing foolish. Keeping low to the ground, she sneaked across the yard toward the back of the cabin, diving to the ground at any little noise from inside.

  When she drew alongside the back wall, she crouched near the window and listened. She could hear the scuffling of boots and a labored sigh from someone inside. Scooting onto her knees, she tried to peek over the window ledge.

  “She should’ve come by now,” King bellowed.

  Startled, Jennie dropped flat to the ground. Her nose filled with the acrid smell of rotting wood as she lay facing the cabin’s lowest logs.

  “She’ll be here, boss,” someone said. Jennie heard a disgusted snort and guessed this came from King. “Gunner said that Nathan fellow was real excited about the robbery. Asked him lots of questions.”

  “Excitement and questions don’t mean she’s coming for certain,” King replied. The sound of a fist pounding the wall carried on the air. “She’d better take the bait.”

  A moment of quiet followed King’s words before another voice said, “I thought you were just gonna claim the place after she lost it.”

  “I am. But I need to make certain Jones and her family don’t try to stop me.”

  Jennie felt the color drain from her face. What did he mean? Would he shoot her like Caleb had said and then go after her family?

  I won’t let that happen. Her jaw clenched with anger. We’ll stop them somehow.

  Turning to look at the log closest to her, Jennie discovered a chink in the wood. Several more littered the back of the cabin. She crawled to one and then another, but both were too small to get a good view of the room. At last she found a hole smaller than her fist, but not so big she’d be seen by those inside.

  Positioning herself in front of the hole, Jennie peered into the cabin’s interior. A chair leg and a box obscured most of her view, but by craning her head, she was able to locate three of the men. Two sat against the far wall, their guns held close. Jennie thought she recognized them as the rustlers who’d stolen her cattle, though she’d only had a brief look at them that night. The third man appeared to be standing by the door. She couldn’t see King, but she guessed he had to be sitting on the chair, judging by the nearness of his voice when he talked.

  If I could just see him... She considered moving farther down the wall to find another chink until she realized what had been blocking her view. The cash box.

  The five thousand dollars, the ticket to her freedom, sat beneath Mr. King’s chair, less than six inches from her face. She tried to reach through the hole to touch the box, but her hand wouldn’t fit. She swapped her pistol for the knife she’d hidden in her boot and silently whittled away at the soft wood. When she could maneuver her hand through the hole, ignoring the scrape of splinters, Jennie let her fingers explore the metal surface of the cash box. Thankfully the lock had been broken.

  She couldn’t leave now—not when the money was literally within reach. It was her ticket out of jail, and she had to try to get it, even without Caleb’s help.

  Sliding her hand back out of the hole, Jennie stuck her knife into her boot and pressed her forehead against her fist to think. If she
could open the box, the lid would help hide her movements as she removed the money. Then no matter what happened, the cash would be safe and she’d have her freedom payment.

  Gritting her teeth in determination, she pushed her hand through the hole and grasped the lid of the cash box. When she lifted it, one of the hinges creaked. Jennie froze.

  “Did you hear something, boss?” one of the cowhands said.

  Jennie’s heart jumped into her throat, beating so loud she feared they’d hear it, too. She bit her lip, trying not to breathe.

  After a long pause, King laughed. “I don’t hear a thing, Haws. How you ever became a cowhand, I still don’t know. You’re the jumpiest son-of-a-gun I ever met.”

  Haws grumbled in response, his words inaudible.

  Exhaling, Jennie slipped her hand inside the box and touched the bundles of money, feeling their size. She’d have to be extra careful to keep the lid from slamming and giving away her position. She grasped one of the bundles and slid it slowly up and out of the box. Sweat beaded on her upper lip as she pulled the cash through the hole. A rush of euphoria swept through her as she reached in for the second wad of cash.

  She emptied the cashbox of all five bundles, stopping once more when she heard King shifting his weight on the chair above her. Once all five thousand dollars sat outside the cabin wall, she softly pushed the box’s lid into place, withdrew her hand and rolled onto her back in the grass.

  Making certain to keep out of sight, Jennie climbed to her knees and placed the bundles and her gun onto her lap. She lifted the hem of her skirt, cradling the cash and weapon inside, and crept away from the cabin. By the time she reached Dandy, her whole body was damp with sweat.

  She stuffed the money into her saddlebag. How she’d love to see the look on King’s face when he realized she’d fooled him. She smiled, ready to climb onto her horse, but the other mounts tethered in front of the cabin caught her eye. If she let the animals go, King and his cowhand thugs wouldn’t be able to make their escape—or worse, ride to the ranch and hurt her family—before the sheriff arrived.

  She spun around and struck out for the cabin again. She inched along, keeping behind the taller brush when possible. As she drew parallel to the building, she went down on hands and knees and crawled along the ground. Wish I hadn’t worn my best dress now. She could only imagine what condition the brown silk would be in after today.

  To keep from scaring the horses and alerting King, Jennie gave the animals a wide berth before approaching slowly from the north. She walked half-crouched over, her free hand extended toward the nearest horse until she touched its velvety nose.

  After rubbing the horse’s muzzle, she untied him from the tree where he’d been tethered. She looped the reins around her hand and guided him toward the next horse. After she’d freed all four animals, she led them a little ways from the cabin. She released all four sets of reins and slapped the rump of the horse next to her. “Go on.”

  The horse loped through the brush, snapping branches, while the others followed. A shout came from inside the cabin. “Someone’s out there, boss. I really heard somethin’ this time.”

  Whirling around, Jennie sprinted south toward her own horse. If she could reach Dandy before the men reached her, she’d be fine. She kept her eyes on the ground as she ran, but she could plainly hear the commotion behind her as the men exited the cabin.

  “The horses. They’re gone,” someone shouted.

  King swore loudly. “It’s Jennie Jones’s doing, I know it.”

  “Look there, boss,” another cowhand yelled. “There she is. Running toward those trees.”

  Jennie pushed her legs faster, her lungs burning. Just a little farther. She ran down a slight incline, but instead of finding her feet back on flat ground, her boot caught on the hem of her dress. She crashed to the ground, her pistol slipping from her grasp. For one horrible moment, she couldn’t breathe. Gulping air, she scrambled to her knees and frantically searched the dirt for her gun. Two sets of ironlike hands stopped her.

  “You’re comin’ with us,” a cowhand said, his tobacco-stained teeth showing through his cocky smile. The other, one of the two she recognized, picked up her pistol from off the ground and nodded.

  “No.” Jennie fought their hold, kicking at their legs with her boots and pulling back as hard as she could against their hands. But she wasn’t much of a match for men used to wrestling thousand-pound cattle.

  As they half dragged, half carried her toward the cabin, she glanced up to see King standing out front, grinning. At least he won’t have his money, she told herself as she stared at the Colt revolver in his hand.

  Tears of regret stung her eyes, and she willed herself to hold them back. She wouldn’t give these men the satisfaction of seeing her cry. If only she’d left after taking back the money or waited for Caleb in the first place, she wouldn’t be facing the possibility of her own death. Why did she insist on doing everything on her own? Even she—strong and independent as she liked to think of herself—needed help now and then.

  “Surprised to see us, Miss Jones?” King asked as she and her captors came closer to the cabin. “We’ve been waitin’ for you.” Even at a distance, she saw the cold triumph blazing in his dark eyes.

  She craned her neck to see past the man holding her left arm, hoping Caleb or the sheriff would ride up at that moment. The sagebrush plain stood empty, but there was still One she could petition for help. Not caring what King thought, she dropped her chin to her chest and silently prayed.

  God, I’m trying to make things right. But I need Thy help. Please give me strength and let me live to see Caleb and my family again....

  * * *

  Jennie fought back the panic that threatened to overwhelm her as the men dragged her toward the cabin door where King waited.

  “Do come in.” He grabbed her roughly from his cowhands and shoved her inside. The others filed in behind them. “I knew you couldn’t resist the lure of five thousand dollars to save your little ranch.”

  King pushed her down onto the floor in a corner of the room. Jennie hit the hard-packed dirt with a muffled groan. She watched helpless as the cowboy with her pistol stuck it in his holster.

  “I’ve heard all about your robberies,” King bragged, “so I planned this little get-together myself. Had my man Gunner drop hints about today’s robbery to your partner, Nathan. Then we rode out here first thing this morning and robbed that stage.” He waved his revolver in the direction of the cash box before pointing it at her.

  Jennie wanted to smile, pleased she’d stolen the five thousand dollars right out from under his nose, but she could hardly swallow, and her head had begun to pound with fear.

  She kept a steady eye on his gun as he went on talking. “As soon as I can get to Fillmore, I’ll claim your ranch and join it with mine. I reckon you won’t object—seeing how you ain’t got a cent for that bank president.”

  Jennie feigned surprise at the mention of Mr. Dixon, deciding to play along. She even managed a soft gasp from her dry throat.

  King grinned, pushing his face so close to hers that Jennie could smell the bacon he’d eaten for breakfast.

  “That’s right, missy. Mr. Dixon and I are good friends. We worked out a nice little arrangement for speeding things up for me to get what I want.” He drew back and ran a finger over the barrel of his revolver. “’Course, in the end, he still moved too slowly for me.”

  “Did you kill him, too?” she asked, not bothering to hide the bitterness from her voice.

  With a laugh, King cocked his gun. “No, Miss Jones. He ain’t standing in my way of having the largest cattle operation in the territory. You are.” He pressed the cold metal against her throbbing temple. “You understand, don’t you? I can’t have you tryin’ to win the place back again.”

  “Boss...” one of the cowhands interjected.

  “What is it, Smith?” King shot a glance at his men while keeping the gun against Jennie’s head.

  The
man didn’t respond right away, and in the long pause, Jennie managed a quick sideways glance in his direction. With a pained expression on his face, the cowboy stared at the dirt floor. Jennie noticed the other two were also looking everywhere but at her and King.

  “Well, boss,” Smith answered, “I—I know you said you might have to shoot her, but can’t we just rough her up a bit instead?” Murmurs of agreement sounded from the other cowboys, apparently giving Smith the courage to continue. “I don’t mind wounding stage drivers,” he said, his voice stronger, “but killin’ women?”

  Jennie hardly dared believe his words. Hope beat sharply in her chest. Could she somehow turn these men against King and escape? They could easily gain the upper hand in number and weapons.

  Turning slowly, King brandished his gun at his men. “You wanna repeat your pretty little speech, Smith?” The venom in his tone made even Jennie shiver, blotting out all hope.

  Smith lowered his head. They were clearly too afraid to go against their boss.

  “Good,” King snarled. “’Cause if any of you liver-bellied boys think you can bail out now, you’re wrong. If you try, I’ll keep the small fortunes I promised ya, and you’ll be lucky if I don’t plant a bullet in your backsides, too. Is that understood?” All three men nodded.

  “All right, then.” King turned to Jennie. “Now we can get on—”

  The cabin door flung open, banging against the opposite wall and sending a tremor through the old building. King whirled around, his eyes wide with surprise. His men scrambled to draw their guns. A man with a dirty bandanna over his mouth and nose appeared in the doorway, a shotgun in his hand.

  Jennie recognized his dusty clothes and blue eyes at once. Caleb. Relief flooded through her, calming the frantic beating of her heart. Two young women Jennie didn’t know, one blonde and one dark-haired, cowered behind him, their hands tied. Who were they and what was Caleb doing with them?