Connie and the Cowboy (Outlaw Gold)

by Mildred Colvin

  She turned to leave the church with Brett’s hand warm on the small of her back. As recently as yesterday she’d have bit his head off for touching her that way. Now she liked the feel of it. They stepped outside into the darkness of evening where people surrounded them, wishing them well before drifting away now the excitement was over.

  The minister shook Brett’s hand. A wide smile lit his face. “How’s about that dinner you folks missed? You go on with my wife, Mrs. Norris, and we’ll be along shortly.”

  Mrs. Norris? Now don’t that beat all? Connie turned to go with her hostess, as she sent a silent mental message to the only person she’d known who would have cared. I’m a Mrs. now, Davis. I got away from Sheriff Burns, and I got married. You’d-a liked my husband. He’s a ‘have’ for sure. But he’s a good ‘have.’ I reckon he didn’t want to marry me, but he won’t run off and leave me now like he did before. I just know he won’t.

  Connie helped Mrs. Lackey set out the warmed-over food and thought of Brett. He was a good man. He’d left her with the Sallees because he thought she’d be better off there. He worried too much about being proper as he called it. She smiled. Brett wouldn’t have to worry now because being married made them about as proper as could be. Maybe they hadn’t wanted to get hitched, but what’s done, was done, and they’d just have to make the best of it.

  When Brett stepped through the kitchen door behind Mr. Lackey, Connie hid her smile. Even if he didn’t look right at her, it wouldn’t be such a hardship to be Mrs. Charles Brett Norris the fourth.

  After they ate and Connie helped Mrs. Lackey wash the dishes, Mr. Lackey offered them a room over the stables in back. “We keep it ready for folks in need that pass by from time to time. My wife put fresh linens on the bed today. You’re welcome to use it tonight. Get a good night’s sleep before you head out in the morning.”

  “I don’t reckon—”

  “Thank you.” Brett cut in before Connie could turn down the offer. “We could use the rest.”

  She frowned at him. Didn’t she have no say-so anymore? It was the same thing with the dresses. She remembered the look on his face when he’d first seen her in the dress she now wore. Maybe the dress was a good idea after all. Only this was different. She didn’t want to sleep in a bed with Brett. She turned away from the others to hide her flaming hot face.

  Brett took her arm and tugged her toward the door. She mumbled something that she hoped meant thank you and went outside into the cool night air with Brett close behind.

  They walked around the house and across the yard to the building that housed their horses. She stepped in ahead of Brett and looked around.

  He stepped past her. “I’ll help you find the room then I’ll make a bed down here.”

  For the second time that night Connie felt a sharp stab of disappointment. She didn’t want Brett to sleep in the same bed with her, but she didn’t want him out of her sight, either. She couldn’t have it both ways, and she knew it. Rather than voice her confusion, she kept quiet.

  A flare of light told Connie Brett had found a lantern. He held it high as they picked their way past stalls and around a buggy to a ladder leading into the loft.

  “This must be it.” Brett started up the steps.

  Connie stood below waiting as he stopped with his head and shoulders above the loft floor. The circle of light from the lantern cast shadows below.

  “Is it clean?” She couldn’t see anything beyond Brett on the ladder.

  He grinned down at her. “Yeah, it looks fine. Do you need help climbing up?”

  “Course not.” She scrambled up the ladder as Brett moved out of her way. She stepped onto the floor and looked at the room. Brett’s light showed a double bed and a dresser set against one corner of the loft. A double wedding ring quilt covered the bed. She turned her back on it to face Brett. “I reckon I’d better get my things out of the saddle bags.”

  As she started for the ladder again, Brett stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Connie, I think you need to know that I will never take advantage of you.”

  She looked up at him, unsure what he meant.

  He must have sensed her confusion. “I didn’t plan on getting married, and I don’t suppose you did either. Maybe it’s a good thing, though, as long as we’re traveling together. Maybe when your uncle catches up with us, it’ll make a difference to him.”

  She gave him a sharp look. Didn’t he understand? Didn’t he know yet what kind of man Everett Burns was? She gave a hoarse laugh and shook her head. “Won’t matter to him. He’ll kill ya just as quick one way as another.”

  Brett shrugged. “Maybe so, but we’ll stick it out together now. I’ll take you to Springfield. If you have folks there, we’ll find them.”

  She looked at him, her brows drawn together. “Folks? I ain’t got no folks in Springfield.”

  “Then why did you want to go there?”

  It was her turn to shrug. What would he do if she told him about the gold? Would he want it for himself? She didn’t know him well enough yet to take a chance. She eyed him and held back a part of herself from her new husband. “I just do. Anyplace’d be better than in the same house with Sheriff Everett Burns.”

  “Yeah, I suppose so.” He seemed to accept her answer as he nodded and turned away. “If you’re all right here, I’ll go downstairs.”

  “I’m comin’ with ya. To get my stuff.”

  While Brett laid out his bedroll, Connie pulled the nightgown she’d got at the Sallee’s from her bag. She stole a peek at him smoothing out his blanket. Funny she hadn’t felt shy around Brett before. With minimum movement, she wadded everything she needed into a tight ball to carry past him.

  “I’ll see you in the morning.” Brett’s soft voice stopped her with one foot on the first rung of the ladder.

  She turned and gave him a saucy grin. “Reckon that means you’ll still be here?”

  He grinned, his gaze catching and holding hers. “Yeah, I’ll still be here.”

  “Good.”

  “Night, Connie.”

  “Night, Brett.”

  She scrambled up the ladder and tossed her belongings on the bed. Strange feelings flooded her heart, which at the moment was beating faster than a getaway horse’s hooves on the road out of town. She pressed a hand to her chest and felt the pounding. Did bein’ married do this to a person? ’Course, her husband was a mighty handsome fellow. And when he grinned at her . . .

  She turned and fell backward across the bed throwing out her arms and closing her eyes. Visions of Brett filled the blackness behind her lids. She let the images take form from the first time she’d seen him stepping up to Blue’s Café, when he’d turned and waved at her, until tonight when he grinned with that admiring look in his eyes. A smile played around the corners of her mouth. Who’d have thought she’d take such a prize from a jail cell? And now he was hers. After all she’d been through in her life, she’d got the best prize after all.

  She sat up with a jerk. Uncertainty replaced her gloating. Brett didn’t want her. She knew that. He’d gone along with the wedding because of the shotgun, but also because he was a good man. Her heart slowed.

  She reached for her nightgown and changed her clothes. She wouldn’t push herself off on Brett. He didn’t need to worry. He didn’t have to stay married to her, neither. Only until they got to Springfield. Then they could go their separate ways. Bein’ married made them proper. Just the way Brett wanted it. Just ‘til she could find her gold.

  Connie turned the wedding ring quilt back and climbed into the soft bed while she thought of her husband trying to get comfortable on a pallet of straw on the floor below.

  ~*~

  Early the next morning, Brett sat across the table from Connie with the minister and his wife at either end. Connie scarcely met his gaze. He hadn’t had a chance to analyze his feelings yet, still he looked forward to heading north. Each step took them farther from Purgatory and from Sheriff Burns. At least he hoped that was true. He di
dn’t relish the idea of meeting up with the sheriff along the trail. Still, more than once since they’d left the Sallee farm, he’d felt a prickling along the hairs at the back of his neck as if someone were watching them. Yet when he looked, he never saw anyone. Not wanting to frighten Connie, he kept quiet about his own fears.

  As the sun spread its rays over the land, Brett smiled at Connie riding abreast with him. “Looks like it’s going to be a hot one today.”

  She nudged her chestnut into a faster pace. “Yeah, so we’d better be shakin’ a leg while we can.”

  He urged his buckskin to keep up with her, and for the next several miles mulled over the happenings of the last few days. He figured Connie was doing the same since she didn’t speak. As the day wore on, Brett’s prediction proved true. He loosened the collar of his shirt and rolled up the sleeves above his elbows. Connie wore the pants and shirt she’d worn before and looked as warm as he felt.

  The son hung overhead and the horses needed a drink. Good reason to stop at the small stream he’d spied ahead. While the horses drank, Connie pulled jerky from her saddlebags. “Reckon this is all we got.”

  He took a strip. “It’ll do. Soon as the horses finish, we’d better get back on the road if you’re able.”

  She threw him a sharp look, her brows lowered. “I’m able.”

  He turned away and grinned before biting off a piece of jerky. He’d married a spunky little girl.

  “Hey, cowboy.” Connie called him back. He turned to see her holding his horse’s hind leg up. “I plumb forgot to tell you there’s a notch here in this shoe.”

  A chill crept up Brett’s back. If they were being followed like he thought, a notch was as good as a road sign. He strode back to see.

  “You got a file on ya?” Connie looked up. “They’s one in my bag.”

  Brett gave a brisk nod and got the file. He tried to smooth the notch, but shook his head. The sheriff would have no problem tracking them. “Even that deputy of his could follow this.”

  “That idiot?” Connie lifted her eyebrows and then shrugged. “Yeah, I reckon you’re right. How about mud?”

  “Mud?”

  She’d already turned toward the creek bank. “Yeah, clay really. It sticks like glue and dries hard as a rock.”

  Anything was worth a try. Brett held the horse while Connie smoothed red clay into the notch. After it dried, she filed it until no sign of the notch remained. His wife wasn’t the innocent, little girl he’d taken her for. She could teach him a few things about surviving. This marriage business might be more interesting than he’d thought. If only they managed to live long enough to learn about each other.

  ~*~

  Brett picked their way as best he could through the forest, staying off the main traveled areas. Maybe the carpet of leaves would hide their horse’s tracks so the sheriff wouldn’t follow as easily. Brett prayed as he rode until they’d covered a good twenty miles and the sun began lowering in the west.

  “Think we should stop and get something to eat?” He called out to Connie.

  She slowed, giving him a look he couldn’t decipher. A smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “Ain’t you the boss now we’re married?”

  He grinned. “So you’re a woman who knows her place?”

  Her smile grew. “Don’t reckon I’d go that far.”

  His laughter rang out as he pulled his horse to a stop. “Come on, let’s take a break and see what we can rustle up for our dinner.”

  “You know how to find water?” She slanted him a look that clearly said she’d be surprised if he did.

  He shrugged, willing to admit she was right. “Not really. I always watch for alder and willow trees.”

  “I reckon you’d best follow me then.” Connie kept to the trail for a short while before pulling off to the right and heading uphill. After a few hundred feet she reined in the chestnut. “You see there?” She pointed to a narrow but well-worn path. “That there’s a deer trail. Iffen we follow it we’ll find water.”

  Brett refused to admit he’d have never noticed the path. “Okay, let’s see what’s at the end. I’ll take the lead.”

  Connie motioned him in front of her with a smirk. “By all means.”

  He ignored her and rode until he saw the sparkle of sun on water ahead. A small, crystal-clear lake, nestled at the base of a steep hill, welcomed them. Brett reined in and slid from his horse. He waited for Connie to dismount, then took her hand in his and grinned at her surprised expression.

  “Let’s walk together to the water you found.”

  She didn’t answer, but she didn’t pull away either. Together they led their horses to drink, and he let her go. Kneeling beside Chester, Connie cupped her hands, scooped up the clear sweet water, and drank thirstily. She splashed her face before sitting back on her heels.

  Brett knelt beside her. “How did you know where to find water?”

  “Davis. He learned me ever’thing I know.”

  Why it mattered to him, Brett didn’t know, but he had to ask. “This Davis. He was someone you knew well?”

  A emotion he couldn’t read came into her eyes as she looked across the lake. She nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”

  Again Brett pushed into an area he’d be better off staying clear of. “Did you love him?”

  She frowned and stared across the lake as if looking into the past. After a while she answered. “I don’t rightly know what love is, but me and Davis was together for a long time.” She lowered her gaze. “I miss him somethin’ fierce. There ain’t a day goes by that I don’t think about him. We had so many plans.”

  After a moment’s silence, her gaze lifted to Brett’s. “If that’s what love is, then I reckon I loved him.”

  “Where is he now?”

  She looked away, but not before Brett saw moisture glisten in her eyes. “Davis got hisself killed.”

  Before Brett could say more, she sprang to her feet and walked away. He had never seen such sadness as he’d seen in her eyes. Davis had undoubtedly been her sweetheart at some time. She said they’d been together a long time. Did she mean in the last three years while she lived with the sheriff and his wife? She said they’d had plans. She’d taken his name as her own. At least she said her name was Connie Davis and that she didn’t have a last name before she met him. Probably Davis died before they could be married. His heart twisted with pity and . . . something else. Something he didn’t want to feel for his wife. How could he be jealous of a dead man? Their marriage wasn’t real and never would be if he had his way. Still, he smiled. Connie’s name was Norris now.

  ~*~

  Connie walked to the other side of Chester and pulled the rifle from the saddle holster. Thinking about Davis always made her want to cry and cryin’ wasn’t something she liked to do. Lettin’ herself get all weepy like some weak female wasn’t Connie’s way. Not even when Brett looked at her like he wanted to take her in his arms and pat her back and tell her ever’thing was gonna be all right. Not that he would’ve done it anyhow. If he had, she’d have knocked him on his backside for the effort.

  A grin replaced her gloomy mood at the thought, and she startled when she saw Brett beside her.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I know how it is to lose someone you love. My mother died when I was nine. For a long time I couldn’t accept her death. I convinced myself she’d gone to her sister’s to visit.”

  He stroked Chester’s neck. “I guess I gave my older sister a pretty hard time. I thought if I misbehaved enough, Mother would hear about it, and she’d come home to straighten me out. Then, my father remarried and I knew she was never coming back.”

  Connie’s heart tugged for the little lost boy Brett had been. “How terrible.”

  He shrugged. “I love my stepmother, but I still missed my mother. When she died, I lost an important part of my boyhood. I guess that’s the reason I left home when I was eighteen. I thought at the time I was going in search of myself as I had been when Mother was alive—my fa
ther called it an odyssey—but I was actually looking for something much more important.”

  “More important? What’s more important than bein’ happy?”

  He smiled at her. “When I was sitting in your uncle’s jail, I found out what true happiness is.”

  Sheriff Burns hadn’t never been her uncle, but saying so wasn’t worth a fight.

  “While I waited to be hanged, I did a lot of soul searching. I was innocent of the charges brought against me, but I had been tried, found guilty, and sentenced to death. When I had nowhere else to turn, desperation drove me to accept a gift that had been there all the time.”

  “I don’t understand. What gift?” Burns hadn’t given Brett a gift. She’d have known it if he did.

  Brett’s eyes grew soft as he looked into Connie’s upturned face. “I accepted the best gift ever, Connie, when I accepted the gift of my own salvation.”

  Gift of salvation? What was he talking about? He’d been a little boy grieving for his mother. So much he even found comfort in a jail cell. ’Course that didn’t make any sense at all, but she couldn’t tell him that.

  She shrugged. “That’s all real interestin’, Brett, but I wouldn’t be knowin’ what you’re talkin’ about, seein’ as I never had no mother.”

  Brett thumbed his hat to the back of his head and grinned at her. “Come on, Connie. Of course you had a mother. Everyone does sometime in their life.”

  “Not me.” Connie picked up the reins that were dragging on the ground and led the big chestnut away from the water.

  Brett followed with his Buckskin. “Maybe your mother died when you were too small to remember her.”

  Connie shook her head. “Nope. When I say I never had no mother, I mean I never had no mother. Some man named Shane planted a seed in Maggie, and I grew inside her just like a big ol’ Jimson weed. Maggie birthed me, but she never was a mother.”