Connie and the Cowboy (Outlaw Gold)

by Mildred Colvin

  “Who was Maggie?” He couldn’t remember, although the name sounded familiar.

  “I told ya, she birthed me. Don’t know why she kept me, though. Sure didn’t want me around.”

  “I’m sorry.” Brett remembered now. She said she never had a mother. Maybe she hadn’t.

  “Why?” Connie twisted to look at him. “Weren’t your fault. ‘Sides, I don’t reckon Maggie could help it much.”

  “Couldn’t help it?” Brett gave a short laugh. “I’d say you are being mighty forgiving.”

  She turned back around so he could braid her hair. “I don’t reckon I’ll ever forgive her for being so mean to me. Exceptin’ she probably didn’t know no better. Her bein’ a—”

  When she broke off, Brett waited, but she didn’t finish. “A what? What was Maggie?”

  “Well, I don’t rightly know how to put it, so’s you won’t be offended. ‘Cause, see she worked in a—” Again she broke off, then shrugged her shoulders. “Oh, well, I reckon there’s only one way to say it. She worked at Queenie’s and Queenie’s is a cathouse.”

  Brett wasn’t sure what emotion tore through his insides. Disgust, disbelief? A combination of the two or something else? Connie had grown up in a cathouse with a prostitute mother? Had Connie worked there, too?

  “See, I knowed I should’ve kept my mouth shut.” Connie pulled away from him and turned to watch his expression.

  “Is that where you were born?” Brett managed to ask.

  She nodded.

  “How long did you live there?”

  “Only ‘til I was eight years old.”

  The air rushed from Brett’s lungs before he realized he was holding his breath. “Then you went to live with the sheriff? But no, that can’t be, not if you only lived there three years.”

  “’Course not.” Connie shook her head. “I told you. I lived with Davis. He came for me when Maggie died. Then he got killed when I was fifteen—almost sixteen, and I went to live with his sister and the sheriff.”

  “His sister?” Brett stared at Connie. “How old was Davis? I thought . . .”

  Connie sat on the rock beside Brett with a laugh. “You thought Davis and me . . .” Her laughter quickly sobered. “Davis was the closest thing to a daddy I ever had. That’s why I took his name for my own. I always pretended he was my daddy. That his name was Shane and he come for me just like I dreamed when I was little.”

  A load lifted from Brett’s heart that he hadn’t even known he carried. So Davis was like a father to Connie. He grinned. “The sun’s going down. Let’s get things secured for the night. We’ve got a long way to go come morning.”

  Connie looked into the trees as an animal scurried away. “Yeah, and who knows what’s hidin’ out there waitin’ for us.”

  Brett searched the forest and saw nothing unusual. Did Connie sense the same intrusion he felt? If someone or something wasn’t watching them, their imaginations were working overtime.

  Chapter 9

  Connie lay on her bedroll watching the flames dance in red and orange splendor, separating her from Brett. Not that he cared. He’d tossed the bedrolls out and spread them on the ground. And that’s where they’d stayed. She turned over with a huff, letting her backside warm to the fire while she closed her eyes and mind to the cowboy who’d taken over her life. Within what seemed like minutes, Connie opened her eyes to the sun peeking through the trees in the east. A curl of smoke drifted past her nose, bringing her upright.

  “About time you got up.” Brett grinned at her from his crouched position by the fire. “Breakfast is ready.”

  “Figured that’s what I smelled.” She threw the blanket off and reached for her boots. “You warmin’ up my fish I already cooked?”

  Brett chuckled. “Yep. The fish I caught.”

  Connie couldn’t hold back her grin. “Well, it still smells good. Been five days, you know.”

  “Naw, these fellows were swimming in the pond just last night.” Brett’s smirk looked pretty cocky.

  “You know what I’m meanin’.”

  “Yeah, I do.” Brett looked to the north, and Connie followed his gaze to where the land became rough as it rose into the Ozark Mountains. “Do you think the sheriff decided to stay home?”

  Connie snorted. “Hardly. More likely he’s bidin’ his time, waitin’ for whatever crazy men wait for. Then he’ll pounce. ’Course, I did think he’d’ve showed his face by now iffen he was gonna.”

  Brett nodded. “That’s what I’ve been thinking. After all, we had a fire all night, and I don’t see any sign of him or anyone else.”

  Connie knew better, but she wanted to be safe like Brett kept sayin’ so she kept her mouth shut. She and Chester followed Brett and his horse up into the hills. Brett said they should pick the easiest trails they could find, but Connie still wondered if they’d ever reach the Missouri border.

  At noon, Brett used the Sharps rifle to bring down some meat, and Connie cringed at the echo from the shot that seemed to go on forever. In the afternoon, she stopped next to Brett outside a small settlement and slid from her horse, then reached into her saddlebags and brought out the pouch she’d taken from beneath the sheriff’s mattress. “We need some things, Brett. I got a ten dollar piece we can use.”

  Brett stared at the coin then at her. “All right, we’ll see what we can find in town. You’re right, we need supplies.”

  He led his horse into town, and she followed. He scarcely spoke to her in the time it took to gather a few groceries, matches, and a licorice treat for her and him.

  He pocketed the change and led the way back to their horses.

  As soon as they got back to camp, he stopped and frowned at her. “Where’d you get that gold piece?”

  So that’s what’d got him all in a dander. Connie grinned as she pulled the pouch from her saddlebag for him to see. “These is compliments of the good sheriff of Purgatory.”

  “How many are there?”

  She shrugged. “Don’t rightly know. I never took time to count ’em.”

  “You stole them?”

  She pulled back from the disbelief in his voice. Why was he actin’ like she’d done something wrong? She shrugged. “I took ’em when I packed just afore I set fire to that house.”

  “You set that fire?” His voice raised a fraction.

  She nodded with a frown. “Sure. How else was I gonna get you outta jail?”

  He stared at her a moment then shook his head. “I sure hope you didn’t burn someone’s home down.”

  “I wouldn’t-a done that, Brett. What do you think I am?” The words no sooner left her mouth, than a look flickered across his expression that clearly said he didn’t know what she was. They’d been getting along so well until now. Her insides churned at his low opinion of her. She swung away. “Reckon we stood around jawin’ long enough. They’s a bank of clouds comin’ up in the southwest. We better get movin’”

  “Yeah, I guess we’d better.” Brett didn’t mention the coins again. In fact, Brett didn’t say much of anything until mid-afternoon.

  The air grew heavy and the clouds became darker as they rolled across the sky until no sunlight found a way through. Brett had been watching them for a spell. He finally spoke. “We’re going to get drenched if we don’t find shelter. We sure could use a cave about now.”

  Connie nodded once. No sense in wastin’ her time talking to a fellow who thought he was better than her. He insisted on praying before he’d take a bite of food and two evenings ago, he’d dug a big, black book out of his saddlebags to read. He claimed the book held God’s words, but he’d never read any of them to her. He acted like he was best friends with the Almighty, and she wasn’t good enough to share whatever he found so interestin’ in that book.

  She mulled that over a bit then planted a sweet smile on her face. “Since you’re on such good terms with the Almighty, why don’t you ask Him to provide us with a cave?”

  “I believe I will,” Brett smiled as if she’d
said something smart. Then right there on his horse he bowed his head. “Lord, I want to thank You for providing for us this week. You’ve supplied our needs each step of the way. Now, we’ve been traveling all day and could use a place of rest. Besides, judging from the clouds above us, we’ll soon need shelter from the storm. I’d appreciate if You’d lead us to a cave where we can get in out of the rain. In Jesus name, Amen.”

  Connie snorted and clamped her hand over her mouth to keep from bustin’ out laughin’. Sounded like he was talkin’ to someone right there who could hear him. She didn’t say a word, though, and he didn’t even look her way. He just kneed his horse forward, so she followed.

  Several minutes later, Brett veered off the path without warning. “Hey, where you goin’?”

  He laughed long and loud with a joyful sound to his voice.

  She headed after him and stopped when he pointed ahead. “Look over there, Connie.”

  Connie searched the wooded hillside until a dark spot caught her eye. That was surely the opening of a cave. A flash of anger washed over her even as goose bumps crept up her arms. Now he’d really think he knew it all.

  She swung toward him and tried to make her voice say she didn’t care. “So, you found a cave. Reckon it don’t mean nothin’. These hillsides are bound to be filled with caves.”

  Brett laughed again. “There’s probably plenty, but this is no coincidence. This is the provision of a loving Heavenly Father.”

  His attitude dug at her insides. “I don’t know nothin’ about lovin’ fathers, heavenly or otherwise.” She tossed her head. “Seein’ as how I never had none.”

  Brett looked at her without saying anything, only his dark eyes turned all soft and sorry. She didn’t need pity. She urged Chestnut forward and took the lead up the hillside.

  Before she reached the cave, thunderheads covered the sky, and the tree branches swayed in the wind.

  “Stay here.” Brett dismounted and touched her arm. “I’ll go inside and make sure we don’t have unwelcome company.”

  Connie eyed the small mouth of the cave and shuddered. “Don’t reckon a lovin’ heavenly Father would show you a cave and then leave a critter inside, do you?”

  Brett grinned, his eyes dancing. He probably recognized the sarcasm in her words. “You’re right. He wouldn’t. I’d still like to go in first just to see what we’ve got here.”

  Connie didn’t argue. She didn’t like creepy, crawly things and small, dark, closed-in places made her uneasy. She sat on Chestnut while he rummaged around in the underbrush until he found a pine knot to use for a torch.

  “Gather some wood for a fire before it rains and everything gets wet.” He slipped into his bossy role awful easy. “And pick up some more pine knots. It’s bound to be pitch black in there, and we’ll need them for light.”

  Connie swung off Chestnut’s back and stuck her tongue out toward Brett when he wasn’t looking. He dropped to his knees before the opening of the cave. Connie shuddered again. It didn’t look big enough for his shoulders to go through. But somehow he squeezed in and disappeared before she began collecting firewood.

  By the time Brett emerged from the cave, she had the horses’ gear stripped off them and tethered. Brett stood and brushed at his clothing. “There doesn’t seem to be any wild varmints in residence.” He picked up an armload of the firewood Connie had collected. “Come on! It’s starting to rain.”

  As Brett bent to toss the armload of wood into the cave entrance, the first tentative raindrops fell on Connie. She wouldn’t mind a light shower. “You go on. I’ll stay out here with Chester and Fugitive.”

  He straightened and looked at her. “Fugitive? Are you talking about my horse?”

  She nodded, “Yep, I decided he orta be named Fugitive ‘cause that’s what he is.” She grinned. “Leastwise, that’s what he’s a-carryin’.”

  Brett reached for one of the saddles. “Sounds good to me, but right now we’d better get inside. You’ll get drenched if you stay out here.”

  “I don’t care.” Connie’s hands clenched tightly at her sides. “I ain’t goin’ in there.”

  Brett shoved the other saddle through the small dark opening before turning to frown at her. “I told you there isn’t anything in there. What’s wrong with you?”

  “There ain’t nothin’ wrong with me. I just don’t like little, dark hidey holes.”

  “So there is something you’re afraid of.” Brett chuckled. “Well, well.”

  “I ain’t afeerd.” Connie raised her voice to cover the panic closing in on her, making it difficult to breathe.

  Brett’s expression softened even when his brows drew together taking the amusement away. He crossed the short distance to her and took her into his arms, patting her back. “Hey, Connie, it’s okay. What happened to make you so afraid of small places? Did someone put you in one once?”

  She nodded against his chest.

  “Who did it?” His voice rumbled in her ear.

  “Maggie.” When he stiffened, she started talking. “When I was little bitty, Maggie used to lock me in a cupboard at night while she was workin’. Sometimes she’d forget to let me out for so long I’d wet myself. Then she’d hit me. Real hard. I ain’t never liked little hidey holes since.”

  “It’s all right, Connie.” His words soothed her as he stroked her back. “The cave is huge. It’s only the opening that’s small. When we get the pine knots lit, it’ll be brighter than most rooms. And you won’t be alone. I’ll be with you.”

  As if tired of waiting, the clouds opened, releasing their heavy burden. Brett grabbed Connie’s hand, and they ran for the cave. She hesitated only a moment before crawling in after him, surprised to find the opening bigger than she’d thought.

  Connie clung to Brett’s hand and stood. The cave’s ceiling was hidden in the darkness that surrounded them. Shadows cast by the flickering light were long and eerie against the uneven walls. Connie huddled close to the fire and to Brett until her clothes dried and the chill left her body. Then she set out the bedrolls and food while Brett took one of the pine knots and went exploring.

  “Wow, will you look at this!” His voice echoed in the vastness of the cavern. “Connie, come see what I’ve found.”

  Connie walked the hundred feet or so to the back of the cave where he stood holding the pine knot. “Be careful,” he cautioned as she drew near. “The floor drops off here.”

  She clutched his arm and leaned forward to look over the edge of the sheer drop off. “It’s like somebody just cut the floor right off.”

  “More like they dug a well in the floor.” He held the light up. It reflected off the back wall of the cave, some twenty feet in front of them. “Stay here, I’m going to see how big it is.”

  Brett walked slowly around the perimeter of the opening, and Connie called to him. “You better be careful. I can’t pull you out of there.”

  He only flashed a grin at her and went on. Finally he turned back. “It’s probably not over seven feet across either way. I wonder how deep it is.”

  He held the blazing pine knot out over the darkness, but they couldn’t see the bottom. Connie handed him a large pebble. It seemed to take forever before they heard the faint plunk as it hit water.

  “If a man were to fall in there, his body would never be found.” Brett speared Connie with a firm look. “I don’t want you to come back here. Ever.”

  She saw concern and maybe something more in his eyes. Did he care for her? She shook her head. “I won’t, but don’t you, neither.”

  He took her hand and together they walked back to the fire. Inside the dimly lit cave, the passage of time held no meaning. Here the ferocity of the storm didn’t exist. Connie cooked the rabbits Brett had shot earlier, and after they ate, he went outside to check on the horses.

  She looked up when he crawled back in soaking wet. “The thunder and lightning have eased, but it’s still pouring out there.”

  “Are the horses all right?”

&n
bsp; He huddled close to the fire. “They’re fine. It’s a warm rain.”

  Brett reached for his saddlebags. He was going to read again.

  Connie yawned. “Reckon we’d oughtta get some sleep. Maybe we can get an early start in the mornin’.”

  Sure enough he pulled the big, black book out and opened it. He glanced up at her and smiled. “Go ahead if you want.”

  Connie lay on her pallet as Brett became lost to her in whatever he found so interesting on those thin, gold-edged pages. What was his fascination with the worn black leather-covered book? Her insides grew tighter as she watched him. That book took him away from her.

  She scooted closer to him. “Read to me.”

  He looked up. “What?”

  “Read to me,” she repeated. “I want to know what you’re readin’.”

  “Anytime you want to read my Bible, you can.”

  She shook her head. “No, I cain’t. I never learnt to read much, what with Davis takin’ me off on the run all the time. He meant to teach me, but he got killed, and I never got a chance.”

  “Oh.” Brett looked at her as if searching for the truth. Maybe he didn’t believe her. “What do you want me to read?”

  “What you’re a-readin’.” She put her finger on the page. “Read that right there.”

  “Okay.” Brett lifted his book. “This is the thirty-ninth chapter of Genesis.”

  He smiled at her puzzled frown, then started to read. “‘And Joseph was brought down to Egypt; and Potiphar, an officer of Pharoah, captain of the guard, an Egyptian, bought him of the hands of the Ishmeelites, which had brought him down thither.”

  He stopped reading to explain how Joseph was sold by his brothers and brought into Egypt as a slave. She listened as he continued with the story of Potiphar’s wife and Joseph.

  When he finished the chapter, she asked, “Why didn’t Joseph want to go to bed with the woman? Was she ugly? Didn’t he like her?”

  “I think she was very beautiful, and he liked her very much,” Brett answered softly. “But it would have been wrong for him to do what she wanted.”

  “Why?” Connie thought of the girls at Queenie’s. “Why would it be wrong?”