Connie and the Cowboy (Outlaw Gold)

by Mildred Colvin

  He turned the pearl-handled gun over to inspect it more carefully before he laid it back on her bedroll. If he wasn’t mistaken he’d seen those same guns hanging at the sheriff’s sides. He couldn’t help wondering how she’d gotten them.

  He moved back to his post. A deer ambled across the field. A bird flew past. There was no sign of human intrusion. Maybe he should rustle up something for lunch. Should he leave her sleeping? Another glance to the south at the serene opening convinced him they’d be all right for a while.

  Brett slipped back to the girl and looked down at her. Why wasn’t she at home with her mother playing dolls? As he watched, she stirred, her eyelids fluttering. He stepped back and landed on a stick. The crack of his weight breaking the twig sounded as loud as gunfire in the silent morning.

  Connie came awake in an instant, clutching the pistol in her hand. Unprepared for the sudden movement, Brett took another step back and tripped over a rock. He sprawled backwards on the ground in an undignified manner. He didn’t know which shocked him most, the ease with which she came awake, the gun pointing between his eyes, or the stream of unacceptable words that poured from her soft, innocent-looking, young mouth.

  “That was stupid, mister. Sneakin’ up on me. Real stupid. I ought to blow your fool head off.” She inserted several choice words he’d never used. “Now, I’m gonna have to tie you up.”

  “For what?” He scrambled to his feet, his hands up on either side. “Don’t I get a turn at sleeping?”

  “Sleepin’?” She gave him a suspicious stare. “What’s that got to do with sneaking over here and tryin’ to take my guns?”

  Brett hoped the guilt didn’t show on his face. He’d been trying to take one of her guns, but not for the reason she thought. She’d never believe he wanted to go hunting for food. He shook his head. “Look you’ve been sleeping for about four hours. I don’t figure we’ve got time for a full day’s sleep. I’d like to get a couple of hours before we head back out. I don’t think the sheriff will show up today, but we can’t fight him off if we’re worn out.”

  She listened although suspicion still shone through her eyes. The gun lowered. “All right. I reckon you got a point. ‘Sides if you’re a-sleepin’, you won’t be tryin’ ta pull nothin’.”

  Brett felt the weight of her bullets in his pocket and nodded. Until she trusted him a little more, he figured they’d better stay in his pocket. He didn’t know what had stopped her from pulling the trigger just now, but he was glad she hadn’t. After all, her rifle was still loaded and quick as she was, she’d have grabbed it next.

  He headed for his bedroll.

  ~*~

  A not so gentle nudge in his side brought Brett awake. He blinked up at the girl standing above him. The first thing he noticed was the smell of frying meat. He threw his cover back and sat up.

  “Where’d you get any meat?”

  “I shot a rabbit.”

  Brett reached for his boot and glanced up to see snug-fitting jeans swaying away from him. His eyes widened. He took in the figure of a young woman with a long blonde braid hanging down her back. She knelt at a fire not more than twenty feet away. He jerked his head from side to side, searching the area. Where was Connie, the young girl in the ugly brown dress that hung from her tiny frame?

  “Connie?” Brett called, hoping she’d show herself.

  The young woman turned and looked at him. Short tendrils of blonde hair appeared as a halo around perfect features with sunlight shining behind her. “Ya better be gittin’ up, mister. We gotta get on the road again.”

  That was Connie’s voice. Brett’s boot dropped from numb fingers. “What happened to you?”

  “What do you mean what happened to me?” The young woman frowned at him. “I got tired of wearin’ that ugly dress is all.” She looked down at her jeans and shirt. “Reckon I’ve grown some since I last wore these, though.”

  “Yeah, I bet you have.” He mumbled under his breath, but she obviously heard.

  “Hey,” Connie rose to stand with her feet apart, her hands on her hips. She met his gaze with a frown. “There ain’t no need of you takin’ inventory. The merchandise is all there, but there ain’t none of it for sale, and I shore ain’t givin’ out no free samples.”

  Heat rose up Brett’s neck. He lifted his gaze to her face, giving her glare for glare. “For your information, I’m not shopping nor would I take any free samples if you gave them out. I was just surprised to find a woman when I expected to see a girl. I thought you were about twelve years old like my little sister. How old are you, anyway?”

  A smile crossed Connie’s face as if she were pleased with the sensation she’d caused. “Well, I ain’t twelve, that’s for sure. I turned nineteen a couple of months back.” She knelt again beside the rabbit. “If you’re wantin’ some lunch, you’d better be washin’ your hands. This here rabbit’s nigh on to ready.”

  Brett pulled on his boots and went to the stream to do as Connie asked. She’d probably shoot him if he didn’t. What was he going to do? This changed everything. A few minutes later, he shook his hands dry as he climbed the grade to join her, his stomach growling in response to the smell of food.

  “Think your uncle will come after us?” he asked.

  “I done told ya. He ain’t my uncle, and I don’t have to call him that no more.” She pulled a leg off and handed it to him. “But, yeah, Sheriff Burns’ll come after us. Least ways he’ll come after me.”

  “You?” Brett stared at her, liking what he saw, wishing he didn’t. “He wouldn’t even recognize you now.”

  She laughed, then grew sober. “Maybe not, but he’d sure come get me if he saw me this away.”

  Brett didn’t like what she insinuated. Had the sheriff taken advantage of the girl in his care? A fierce protective instinct swept through Brett’s heart. If Sheriff Burns showed up for Connie, he’d have to get past him first.

  Connie broke into his musings. “Reckon we’d better get a move on.”

  After they saddled the horses, they moved at a more leisurely pace than they’d set the night before. Connie was an appealing young woman. Something he hadn’t known when they started out. But now he did, and he had to do something about it. Escorting a young girl to possible relatives in Springfield was one thing, but spending several nights in succession with the beautiful woman she’d become was another thing entirely. He wasn’t about to fight temptation all the way to Springfield.

  As he rode, he prayed about the situation, asking God to give him direction, and an idea took form in his mind. He’d look for a farmhouse. Surely a farmer and his wife would be willing to take Connie in so he could slip out and go on his way unencumbered.

  Although he kept a sharp look out, and they stayed within sight of the road, they traveled all afternoon without coming across a dwelling. Not until the sun reached the western edge of the sky, did he see what he’d been looking for. A barn and house set against the hillside with a fence running along a ribbon of brown dirt road.

  Brett turned his buckskin down the hill toward the farm. He wasn’t surprised when Connie called out. “Hey, just you wait a minute, mister.”

  He pulled his horse to a stop and turned to look down the barrel of her gun. “Connie, you’ve got to quit pointing that thing at me. Someone’s liable to get hurt.”

  “Where do you think you’re goin’?” Her shooting arm never wavered.

  He sighed. “Look, I’m worn out. You’re about to drop from the saddle. The horses are tired and hungry. Let’s see if we can stop here tonight. Maybe these good folks will let us stay if we help them with a chore or something.”

  “Then we’ll get up and go again in the mornin’?” She still didn’t trust him. He couldn’t blame her, though. If she knew what he had in mind, she’d go ahead and shoot him.

  “Yeah, we’ll get up and go again in the morning.” Brett figured that was true whether they went together or not. But maybe Connie would go back home if he wasn’t there to show her the way
to Missouri. Or maybe the farm family would offer her a home with them.

  “All right, but don’t try nothin’ funny, ‘cause we ain’t in Springfield yet.”

  Brett just shrugged. “Come on, Connie. Let’s see if we can find a decent place to sleep where we don’t have to take turns.”

  She put her pistol back in the holster and followed him down the hill.

  Chapter 6

  Convincing the farmer to put them up for the night wasn’t hard after Brett had three-fourths of the man’s chores done. He figured Connie hadn’t fared much better inside. He followed Abraham Sallee into the kitchen and met Connie’s silent glare. When she smacked his plate of mashed potatoes and chicken on the table in front of him, he breathed a prayer of thanks that he wouldn’t have to face her come morning.

  After the women joined the men at the table, Abraham offered a prayer over their dinner. As soon as he uttered amen, he lifted dark eyes to Brett. “So, you folks are just passin’ through?”

  “That’s right.” Brett didn’t plan to tell more than necessary.

  “You two married?”

  Brett caught Connie’s quick look and the way her eyes brightened. She opened her mouth. He spoke before she could. “No, we aren’t. That’s why I’m asking you to put Miss Davis up in the house. I’ll be obliged to sleep in the barn, if you don’t mind.”

  If looks could kill, he’d be dead where he sat. She glared at him for a heartbeat before she turned a smile on the older couple. “I wouldn’t want ta put you folks out none. I reckon I can bed down on a pile of hay, too.”

  “Oh, we wouldn’t hear of it.” Olive Sallee’s frown told what she thought of the idea. “It’s bad enough a pretty, young woman such as yourself is forced to travel without proper escort. Mr. Norris may be your cousin and you raised like brother and sister, but . . .”

  “Cousin? Brother and sister?” Abraham lifted his eyebrows and shrugged as if relieved. “Reckon that ain’t so bad then.”

  Brett tried to get Connie’s attention, but she wouldn’t look at him. He wondered what else she’d told the older woman while they cooked the delicious food that had all but disappeared from the table.

  “Child, don’t you have any dresses?” At Olive’s question a stubborn look crossed Connie’s face. The woman waved a hand as if brushing away her words. “Oh, I know those trousers probably make travel easier. And that may be fine when all that sees you is your cousin, but you’ll be coming to settlements along the way.”

  “Don’t you have any of Jean’s old things stored away?” Abraham asked.

  Olive smiled. “That I do.” She looked at Connie. “You help me get this mess cleaned up after our devotions, and we’ll find you a dress fittin’ for company. We only had one daughter and she’s married in her own home now. You’re just a mite of a thing and should fit some of her outgrown clothing.”

  “I don’t—”

  “I don’t know how to thank you, either, Mrs. Sallee.” He smiled at their hostess. “You’ve both been very kind.”

  “I don’t—” Connie tried again.

  This time Abraham interrupted. “We always read a few verses from God’s Word before we leave the table. If you folks don’t mind, we’d like for you to join us.”

  “Not at all.” Brett nodded.

  Connie stared at the older man as if he’d suddenly sprouted an extra head, but she remained quiet.

  “We’ll continue in the second letter to the Corinthians where we left off last night.” Abraham picked up a Bible from the sideboard behind him and opened it. He began to read words that Brett remembered from his childhood. Of Paul telling about the old covenant that gave way to the new.

  “‘For if that which is done away was glorious, much more that which remaineth is glorious.’”

  The next few verses caught Brett’s attention in a special way. “‘Seeing then that we have such hope, we use great plainness of speech . . . But their minds were blinded: for until this day remaineth the same veil untaken away in the reading of the old testament; which veil is done away in Christ.’”

  Brett let the words settle in his mind as he thought of Connie. From her conversation and actions, he was sure she didn’t know Christ. The expression on her face at that moment indicated that she had no idea what the words being read meant. Just as Christ’s death on the cross opened the eyes of those who accepted His sacrifice, so would Connie need to accept salvation before she could see.

  Responsibility set on Brett’s shoulders in a way he hadn’t expected. He needed to teach Connie. Was this the reason for their strange alliance? No. Relief swept over him as he looked at the older couple. He’d done his part. He’d brought Connie to the Sallee farm. Here, he’d leave her with a Christian couple who could teach her the way of salvation.

  Abraham closed his Bible reading with a short prayer, and Brett stood. “I’ll leave Connie in your hands now and see about fixing a place to sleep in the barn.” He turned to Abraham. “Unless you have anything else I could help you with.”

  “I’ll walk out to the barn with you. Need to check on the animals before we retire.” Abraham placed his Bible with care back on the sideboard before he rose and followed Brett outside.

  ~*~

  Connie stared at the closing door. How had this happened? She had everything planned out. She was in charge, but that handsome fellow turned the tables on her, almost as if he’d been the one to escape from jail and taken her hostage.

  “I’ll let you start on the dishes while I sweep the floor.” Olive pushed a dishcloth into Connie’s hand. “The water on the stove should be plenty hot enough. Soap’s sitting there by the sink.”

  Connie bit her tongue to keep the evil words back. Davis had tanned her hide once for using words he said were unfit for any pretty, young girl to hear, let alone taint her innocent lips with. She had never said a bad word in his hearing again and only gave them release when she was especially put out about something. Like now.

  She prepared water for the dishes and attacked them with the frustration she would have liked to unleash on that high and mighty Charles Brett Norris the fourth. Just because he had a number in his name didn’t make him better than her. He might dress like a cowboy, but he was a ‘have,’ no doubt about it. Well, she’d be a ‘have’ before long, too, and when that happened she’d show him.

  She scrubbed the skillet she’d fried the chicken in and remembered how Brett had seemed to enjoy it. He’d complimented the woman of the house. Connie snorted with a sidewise glance at Olive. She’d taken credit for Connie’s work without batting an eye.

  “Soon as you finish there, we’ll go back and look at some of those dresses I told you about.” Olive leaned her broom against the wall.

  Connie set the clean skillet beside the sink. “I reckon I’m done now, but I don’t need no dresses from your daughter.”

  “Oh, of course you do.” Olive bustled from the room as if on a mission.

  Connie figured she was. A mission to save the poor, little ‘have-not’ that landed on her doorstep. She was like the do-gooders in Springfield who’d taken her in after Davis died. They hadn’t listened to her, neither. After stripping her of her pants and shirt, they’d found an ugly blue dress their daughters wouldn’t have worn to a dogfight and stuck it over her head. That was the dress she’d worn to meet Sheriff Burns and his wife. Two sizes too big, it hid her growing body from the leering man who said he was her uncle. She’d quickly learned the value of ugly dresses so the blue one was followed by a green calico then the brown dress in her saddlebag that was still two sizes too big. Maybe she should take whatever was offered. If she couldn’t wear the thing, it could always be used for rags.

  ~*~

  Brett thanked his host and spread his blanket over his mattress of straw. The pungent smell of horses and feed filled his nostrils as he eased his tired body to the soft bed and drifted off to sleep.

  He woke with a start, unsure of his surroundings at first. After a bit, dark shapes in
the barn took form in the moonlight filtering through a window high in the barn wall. The straw under his blanket rustled with his movement. He sat up. He had to get away before the household woke and Connie came with him.

  He’d thought of telling Abraham his plan, but after spending some time with him, Brett felt sure the good man and his wife would take Connie in as a second daughter. They both knew the Lord. They could teach Connie of God’s love and salvation. He was doing the best for her and for him.

  Ten minutes later, Brett sat in the saddle and walked his horse out of the barnyard away from the house where Connie still slept. A couple of hundred yards down the road, he urged the buckskin into a faster trot. He glanced up at the moon sitting high in the black sky. From its position overhead, he still had two or three hours before daybreak.

  He grinned, imagining Connie’s fury when she found he was gone. She’d get over it, though, and when she cooled down she’d realize he’d done her a favor. Didn’t she understand the impropriety of a man and woman traveling alone together?

  What kind of life had Connie lived? Surely desperation had driven her to take him, a convicted murderer, from jail to escort her almost two hundred miles north. The sheriff was a hard man. Maybe in ways he hadn’t realized at first. He shuddered, glad he hadn’t insisted she return to her uncle.

  He picked his way carefully through the moonlit night. A couple of miles should be enough so he could relax. Connie didn’t know the way to Springfield so she wouldn’t be able to find him if she tried, although he didn’t imagine Abraham would let her set out on her own. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to make sure Sheriff Burns didn’t stumble over his trail. Brett veered off the road when the first red glow brightened the eastern horizon.

  ~*~

  Connie woke to a restless feeling. Something was wrong. She moved her hand over the soft bed that had claimed her as soon as she stretched out the night before. She sat up, letting her gaze roam over dark objects she could barely make out in the dim light of dawn. This was a girl’s room. The Sallee’s daughter, Jean, had grown up here. She’d had a mother and father who loved her. Anyone could see that because of the nice furniture, but mostly because of the clothing.