The Outlaw's Daughter

by Margaret Brownley

  The smile spreading across Jesse’s face told Matt that was one rule the boy wouldn’t fight him on.

  * * *

  All was quiet when Ellie-May reached home. Anvil and Lionel were playing chess, and Alicia was perfecting her sewing skills on a linen sampler.

  “Everything okay?” Anvil asked. He and Lionel were seated opposite each other at the kitchen table.

  “Yes,” she said. Now that Jesse’s pa was under Doc Avery’s care, everything was more than okay. “Any…problems?”

  “Other than the fact that Lionel just called checkmate, no,” Anvil said, feigning disgust.

  Lionel grinned. “Want to play another game?”

  Anvil stood. “And get whupped again? No thank you. ’Sides, I have chores to do.”

  Ellie-May walked Anvil out to the porch where she could talk to him in private.

  “Did you talk to the Ranger?” he asked.

  She nodded. “We talked,” she said and described Matt’s plan to capture Roberts.

  “Sounds good to me,” Anvil said. “So why so glum?”

  “I don’t know. I just have a bad feeling about it,” she said.

  “I don’t blame you for worryin’. But you can trust the Ranger.”

  She studied Anvil’s well-lined face. The only person she’d ever really trusted was Neal, and look where that had gotten her. Her stomach twisted into a knot just thinking about how he’d betrayed her trust.

  “How can you be so sure?” she asked.

  “I just am,” Anvil said with a mysterious smile. “Just as I’m sure Mr. Neal didn’t steal no money.”

  30

  Jesse walked into Matt’s hotel room late that afternoon, looking glum as dry mud.

  Watching him through the mirror, Matt reached for his gun belt and buckled it around his waist. “Why the long face?”

  “Saw Pa this morning. He didn’t look happy.”

  Matt felt bad for the boy. Jesse had been so worried about his pa, he’d insisted upon sleeping on the floor of Matt’s hotel room so he could be close to him.

  Matt turned away from the mirror. “Like I said, it’ll take time.”

  Jesse sat on the edge of the bed and watched Matt don his vest. “How come you’re going to the Blackwell farm?”

  Matt’s eyebrows shot up. “Who said I was?”

  “You usually only shave in the morning.”

  Matt rubbed his smooth chin. The boy had a point. Blast it all. Nothing escaped Jesse’s notice, that was for sure.

  Stalling for time, Matt reached for his vest. No sense lying. Jesse wouldn’t believe him if he did. On the other hand, he didn’t want Jesse knowing the real reason he was heading to the farm was Roberts.

  “Can’t a man make a social call if he’s got a mind to?”

  Jesse’s mouth curved in a slow smile. “I knew it. You do like her.”

  Matt grimaced. His feelings for Ellie-May Blackwell were too complicated to explain even to himself. She was a suspect’s widow, for crying out loud. She claimed she’d found the money under the porch, and he wanted to believe her. But for all he knew, she could have been her husband’s accomplice. As much as he didn’t want to believe her guilty of any crime, no lawman worth his salt would overlook that possibility.

  “I thought you liked her, too,” Matt said, pretending to misunderstand.

  “Yeah, but I don’t want to kiss her.” Showing his youthfulness, Jesse wrinkled his nose in disgust.

  Matt stared at him. He was pretty sure Jesse hadn’t seen them kiss, but apparently he’d seen enough. Great thunder, had his desire to kiss Ellie-May Blackwell been so obvious that even a thirteen-year-old had noticed?

  Swallowing his irritation with the boy for making him recall the feel of Ellie-May’s sweet lips on his, Matt pulled out his pocket watch. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for work or something?”

  Jesse slid off the bed. “Oh yeah.” He stopped at the door and looked over his shoulder. “What time will you be back?”

  “When I get here,” Matt muttered, turning to the mirror. “When I get here.”

  * * *

  Matt waited until just before sunset before riding out to the Blackwell farm. After sending the two guardsmen he’d hired home, he hid his horse in an empty barn stall. He then settled down on Ellie-May’s front porch where he could view the yard without being seen.

  He’d done his share of surveillance through the years, but it never got easier. It wasn’t in his nature to wait for things to happen. He only hoped that Roberts would take the bait and prevent the necessity of him having to spend a second night there.

  Around nine o’clock, Ellie-May stepped out of the house and handed him a warm quilt and cup of coffee. Though she had agreed to work with him, he knew she didn’t approve of his plan. For that reason, her thoughtful gesture came as a surprise.

  Their fingers touched as he took the steaming mug from her, and he felt a physical jolt that was as pleasant as it was worrisome. “Much obliged.”

  She spread the quilt over his lap. “It gets cool at night,” she said.

  He took a deep breath and caught a whiff of lavender perfume. In the pale moonlight, her luminous eyes looked like stars and her hair shone like spun gold. But the moon also revealed a tightness of expression that he longed to smooth out.

  He wished he could think of something to say to put her mind at ease. But now that the stolen money had been recovered, there was no way of protecting her or her children. If things were indeed as they seemed, soon everyone would know that the town hero was a thief.

  He sensed her hesitation as she studied him. “You okay?” he asked.

  She nodded and after a pause said, “I saw your brother’s name in the paper. I know how hard it must be for you.”

  He heaved a sigh. Hard didn’t even begin to describe it. Suddenly, the frustration that had been building inside him since reading about his brother’s latest heist needed release.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, apparently misunderstanding his silence. “I didn’t mean to…”

  “It’s all right,” he said, not wanting her to feel bad. “I’m glad you did. You understand what it’s like to have someone you love—” He didn’t finish his sentence. Couldn’t.

  She commiserated with a nod of her head. “What are you going to do?” she asked.

  “Do?”

  She hesitated as if not wanting to put her thoughts into words. “If you catch him?” she said at last.

  He sucked in his breath. “Funny, my captain asked me that very same question. I told him I would treat my brother like any other outlaw. At the time, I meant it.”

  “At the time?”

  His thoughts traveled back for a moment before he explained. “When I finally did catch up to Charley, he pulled a gun on me and got away.” Even now, it pained him just thinking about it. “That wouldn’t have happened had it been anyone else. Because he was my brother, I’d let down my guard.”

  “That’s understandable,” she said, and even in the soft light, he could see the sympathy in her eyes.

  He shook his head. “Not for a Texas Ranger.”

  “You were a brother long before you were a Ranger,” she said.

  “It didn’t matter to Charley that we were brothers.” Matt rubbed his chin, but nothing could be done about the ache in his heart. “I’d hoped to stop him before someone got hurt.” Before Charley got hurt. “His Wanted posters read ‘Dead or alive.’ Some bounty hunters aren’t fussy how they haul someone in. Long as they get the reward.”

  “Maybe you can still get to him first,” she said. “Now that your job here is almost done.”

  He didn’t have a lot of hope of saving Charley, but still he nodded. “You better go in,” he said, even as he wanted her to stay. There wasn’t enough shadow on the porch to hide them both.
>
  She hesitated. “Do you really think Roberts will show?” she asked.

  “Don’t know. But if he does, I’m ready.”

  “Good night,” she said, her voice as troubled as her expression. “Be careful.”

  Her concern for his safety touched him, and he swallowed hard. “I will.”

  Silently, she turned to the house. She stopped in the doorway and glanced at him over her shoulder. Their gazes locked for a moment before she stepped inside and closed the door, leaving him to his disturbing thoughts and the long, lonely night ahead.

  And the night was long, and it was lonely.

  As dawn began tiptoeing across the distant hills, he wondered if he had Roberts pegged all wrong. Maybe the man had decided to forget about the money and run. Maybe he’d sensed a trap. A dozen other possibilities sifted through Matt’s head like sand in an hourglass.

  Yawning, he stood and stretched. Every muscle in his body ached. Rubbing his neck, he surveyed the land. It looked to be another hot day. The sky was clear, and already the air felt warm.

  Peace and serenity greeted the early morning light, but so did the effects of the drought. What grass had survived was brown and the soil barren. Nevertheless, it was a good piece of land with a lot of possibilities and reminded him of his long-forgotten dreams.

  Dreams about owning a horse ranch. Dreams that included a wife and family. Dreams that had been wiped out by a single bullet to his pa’s chest.

  He was saved from his thoughts by the sound of children’s voices, along with the music box playing “All the Pretty Little Horses.” A rooster greeted the rising sun with a lusty crow.

  The door creaked opened, and Lionel peered at him, his eyes round with curiosity. “Breakfast is ready,” he announced.

  “Thanks, son.” Matt hadn’t counted on breakfast, but he wasn’t about to turn down the offer. He entered the house and followed the welcome smell of coffee and bacon to the kitchen.

  Ellie-May looked like she hadn’t gotten any more sleep than he had. Her face was pale, and blue shadows skirted her dark, solemn eyes.

  He answered her silent query with a shake of his head. No sign of Roberts.

  She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and reached for the coffeepot.

  “Smells good,” he said.

  “Scalding hot and barefooted. Just how you like it,” she said. After filling his cup, she set the coffeepot on the stove and shoved her hands into her apron pockets. “Now what?”

  He leaned back against the kitchen counter and took a sip of the hot brew before answering. “We do it again tonight.”

  “And if Roberts doesn’t show?” she asked. The look on her face told him she still didn’t approve of his plan.

  “I’ll cancel Saturday’s search and turn the money over to the sheriff,” he said.

  She drew in her breath as if bracing herself for the worst. It suddenly became necessary for him to move as far away as the small kitchen allowed. It was the only way to keep from taking her in his arms and telling her that everything would be all right.

  * * *

  The following night, Ellie-May stepped outside again with coffee and quilt. She couldn’t see Matt in the dark shadows of the porch, but she could feel his strong, masculine presence. Just knowing he was there was both comforting and alarming.

  Alarming, because she hated what he was doing. Though she’d agreed to work with him, she still hated how her family’s welfare hung in his hands. Hated more than anything how he’d used her. Even though he’d denied it, she had a hard time thinking his interest in her family was real. But even as she doubted his sincerity and worried about the wisdom of his plan, she still felt compelled to see to his comfort. It made no sense.

  “Brought you coffee,” she said, keeping her voice low.

  She heard him shift in his chair. “And not a moment too soon,” he murmured back. He sounded tired.

  Irritated at how his nearness made her feel all fluttery and nervous inside, she handed him the steaming cup. Their fingers touched for a mere second, but it was enough to make her heart beat faster. Ignoring the temptation to lean in closer, she stepped back. Careful to avoid the stream of moonlight that flooded half the porch, she was grateful for the shadows that hid her blazing face.

  “Ellie-May, we need to talk about tomorrow,” Matt said, his voice as low as it was serious.

  The tone of his voice made her pull her shawl tight around her shoulders and stare at his dark form. Tomorrow, the truth would be known, and she’d no longer be able to protect Lionel and Alicia from the scorn that would surely come their way.

  “If nothing happens tonight,” he said slowly, “I’m gonna have to turn the money over to the sheriff.”

  “I know,” she managed to squeak out.

  “No one’s gonna blame you or your children.”

  Something snapped inside her. “You don’t know that.”

  “I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he said, his voice thick with meaning.

  She wanted to believe he meant what he said, but he was a relative stranger in town and didn’t know it the way she did.

  “And who’s gonna to protect us after you’re gone?” she asked. Giving him no chance to answer, she continued. “They’ve treated Neal like a hero. How do you think people will feel once they know that he—”

  “Things aren’t always what they seem,” he said, and something in his voice told her he was no longer talking about tomorrow; he was talking about something more intimate. He was talking about the kiss they’d shared. The kiss that continued to haunt her, even as she’d tried denying it had ever happened.

  Not wanting to go there—unable to go there—she forced herself to concentrate on the immediate problem. “No one else could have hidden that money beneath our porch,” she said. “Only Neal.”

  Fighting back tears, she turned to the door. But just as she reached for the doorknob, something made her stop.

  The sound of a galloping horse.

  Matt heard it, too, as he was on his feet in a flash, a speck of moonlight glinting off the gun in his hand.

  “Quick! In the house,” he ordered, not bothering to lower his voice. No sooner had he spoken than the night was shattered by the blast of gunfire.

  31

  Matt ducked low. After making sure that Ellie-May was safely inside the house, he peered between the porch railings.

  Ears ringing from the sound of gunfire, he quickly assessed the situation. The shots had been fired from behind the toolshed. He knew where Roberts was. What he didn’t know was the identity of the horseman.

  The galloping horse came to a quick halt in front of the house, and another shot rent the air. The horse reared back on its hind legs with a loud whinny and tossed its rider to the ground.

  Matt caught only a quick glimpse at the rider as he fell, but it was enough to send a cold chill shooting through him. What in blazes is Jesse doing here?

  Fearing the worst and mindless of his own safety, Matt leaped off the porch, gun in hand, and ran to the still-dark form on the ground. More shots were fired, and the bullets hit the ground by his feet as he ran.

  “Jesse!” He dropped to his knees by the boy’s side and shook him. “Are you hurt?”

  Jesse raised his head. “Pa’s gone,” he said, seemingly oblivious at having been shot at or even the danger that he was still in.

  Matt reared back. “What?”

  “Pa left Doc’s house, and I can’t find him.”

  Cursing, Matt quickly checked Jesse over for injuries. He felt no blood, but the boy winced when Matt moved his right arm. “I want you to go to the side of the house. Can you do that for me?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Stay there and don’t move. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  For once, Jesse didn’t argue, which was proof e
nough that the boy was hurting or scared or both.

  Matt shielded Jesse with his body and waited for him to reach safety before springing into action. Crouching low, he leaped forward and darted behind a tree.

  “Roberts! Come out with your hands up!”

  Roberts fired again, a flash of light showing he was still behind the woodshed. Matt held his gun steady but didn’t fire back.

  The big, orange moon was straight up, and there was no way of reaching the toolshed without being an open target.

  His best chance was to get Roberts to fire until he had to reload again. It took what? Fifteen, twenty seconds to load a gun. With his long legs, Matt could cover a lot of ground in that amount of time.

  With this new plan in mind, Matt pulled the trigger, careful not to aim at the man. He wanted Roberts alive.

  As predicted, Roberts fired back. One, two, three…

  Roberts kept firing, which could only mean he had two guns. Cursing beneath his breath, Matt ducked low and considered his other options. He then heard a yell, a grunt, and a groan. What the…?

  Bolting forward, he found Anvil and Roberts rolling on the ground behind the toolshed, both clutching a single gun between them.

  Timing his move, Matt jammed his weapon against Roberts’s back. “Hold it right there!”

  Roberts froze in place, allowing Anvil to roll away and stagger to his feet.

  “Drop the gun,” Matt said. When Roberts didn’t immediately obey, he repeated the command, this time sharper. “I said, drop it.”

  The gun fell from Roberts’s hand, and Matt kicked it away. He glanced at Anvil.

  The older man stood panting like an old hound, blood trickling down the side of his face.

  “You okay?”

  Anvil nodded. “There’s rope in the shed,” he said. “I’ll get it.”

  Moments later, Roberts’s hands were cuffed and his feet secured with rope at the ankles. Matt wasn’t about to take chances on Roberts escaping a second time. He was about to ask Anvil to check on Jesse when the boy’s voice rang out behind him.