The Outlaw's Daughter

by Margaret Brownley

  “Shoo!” she yelled, waving her arms. The bird took to the sky, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

  Even the act of breathing seemed to hurt. Oh, Neal. Will you ever forgive me?

  She must have been out of her mind to think that her dear, sweet husband would do something so awful as rob a stage. One sack—one lousy sack of money—and she had jumped to all the wrong conclusions and believed the worst about him.

  She should have known better. She’d done to Neal what the town had done to her: judged him unfairly. To some, she would always be an outlaw’s daughter. Nothing she could do about that.

  She’d heard it said that people see in others what they see in themselves. If true, then what did assuming the worst about Neal say about her? That it wasn’t just the town that saw her as an outlaw’s daughter but that was how she saw herself?

  Such were her thoughts that she failed to notice that she was no longer alone until a voice broke through the early morning quiet.

  “Thought I recognized your horse and wagon.”

  Startled by how the mere sound of Matt’s voice made her pulse pound, she turned, and her heart took another leap.

  Matt touched the brim of his hat in greeting. “Just wanted you to know, Roberts made a full confession to the sheriff. Your husband is officially in the clear.”

  “Thank you,” she said, and though the words came from the deepest part of her heart, they seemed lacking in some way. Inadequate.

  “Just doing my job.”

  “It was more than that,” she said. “You believed in Neal even when I didn’t. For that, I’ll always be grateful.”

  His gaze softened as he studied her. Today, his dark eyes reflected glimmers of light that were more gold than brown. “I don’t think you stopped believing in him. I think you stopped believing in yourself. Believing in your own judgment.”

  The kindness of his reply—maybe even the truth of it—caught her off guard. His effect on her only added to her remorse. To have such confused and unresolved feelings for a man not her husband added yet another layer of guilt to her already burdened shoulders, and tears sprang to her eyes.

  Concern shadowed Matt’s face as he reached into his pocket for a handkerchief. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.” Stepping forward, he dabbed at her moist cheeks, and his gentle touch sent warm ripples trickling down her spine. He must have felt her tremble as he pulled his hand away. “You okay?”

  She nodded. “I just feel terrible. I knew the kind of man Neal was, and yet I believed the worst about him.”

  “The evidence was pretty compelling.”

  “But not to you,” she said.

  He shrugged. “I have to admit, I had my doubts. But something didn’t sit right. Comes with years of experience. I’ve been around long enough to know things aren’t always what they seem. So don’t be so rough on yourself. Anyone in your shoes would have jumped to the same conclusion. And I think if your husband were here, he’d tell you the same thing.”

  “That’s…very kind of you to say.” His words didn’t completely absolve her guilt, but they did make her feel better. Especially the part about Neal.

  “I’m not just saying it. I mean it.” He tilted his head, and his brow furrowed. “I hope you don’t still believe I tried to trap you. I would never use you or your children in such a way.”

  She studied him. If what he said was true, then his kiss had meant something, and his interest in her family had been real. The thought brought a jolt of pleasure followed by another surge of guilt. Forgive me, Neal…

  “It looks like I was wrong on two accounts,” she said. “I was wrong about you and wrong about Neal.”

  “Kissing you was a mistake and should never have happened. I don’t blame you for not trusting me.”

  Biting her lower lip, she wondered how he could so easily discount something that had affected her so deeply. Not wanting him to know how much his words cut her to the core, she lowered her lashes and moistened her lips. “I guess now that your work is done here, you’ll be on your way.”

  “That’s the plan,” he said, dashing any hope she had of him staying. “I asked Doc Avery to keep an eye on Jesse.”

  She met his gaze. “Jesse will miss you,” she said. I’ll miss you…

  Matt smiled fondly and rubbed the back of his neck. “Much as I hate to admit it, I’ll miss him, too.”

  They gazed at each other for a moment without speaking. Unable to tell from his expression what he was thinking, she waited for him to say something. To reach out and touch her. To tell her he didn’t want to go. To say that he’d miss her, too, and that kissing her had not been a mistake. But the words she longed to hear didn’t come, and the silence hung between them like a thick veil.

  “I guess this is so long,” he said, snuffing out the last of her hopes.

  “Guess so,” she said, her voice hoarse.

  “Take care of yourself.”

  She lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. “You, too,” she said, sounding brighter than she felt.

  He looked about to say something more but instead turned and walked back to his horse. Not wanting to see him leave, she swung around to face her husband’s statue.

  Caught between the two men who were lost to her, she felt her heart break into a thousand little pieces.

  * * *

  Matt swung into his saddle, his gaze focused on Ellie-May’s back. She looked so small and defenseless next to her husband’s statue, but he knew that was only an illusion.

  Where her children were concerned, she could turn into a lioness in a blink of an eye. That was one of the things he most admired about her. If his own mother had been more like Ellie-May, perhaps Charley wouldn’t be in the bind he was today. Instead, their mother had folded like a wilted flower after his father’s death and had never recovered.

  Not wanting to dwell on the past, Matt pushed his thoughts aside, but the future wasn’t looking that great, either. He knew saying goodbye would be tough but never had he imagined how tough. The call to duty was great, but the call of his heart was even greater.

  He was tempted to go back to her—to say the things that had been left unsaid—but she’d turned to face her husband’s towering image, and that told him where her heart was.

  Neal Blackwell was the town hero and deservedly so. What mortal could compete with such a man? Matt sure couldn’t. Wasn’t sure he wanted to.

  He had a job to do. There were outlaws to catch and still that business with his father’s death and the need to seek justice. But the uppermost thing in his mind was the burning hope he could still save his brother.

  Oh yes, there were reasons aplenty for not giving in to the dictates of his heart.

  Once he hit the road and returned to his unit, he would put Ellie-May Blackwell out of his mind for good. Had to.

  His thoughts as tangled as straw in a mattress, Matt tugged on the reins and headed back to his hotel. After paying his bill, he raced upstairs to his room to grab his bedroll and other belongings and left.

  Moments later, as he stood tying his bedroll to the back of his saddle, Jesse ran up to him, his arm in a sling.

  Today, he was all smiles.

  “What’s up, Ranger?” Matt asked. “Your pa okay?”

  “Yeah. He spends a lot of time with Doc Avery, but he stays away from his saloon.”

  “Not his saloon anymore, son,” Matt said. The good Lord willing, it would never be again.

  Jesse’s grin almost reached his ears. “Came to tell you that Pa’s gonna reopen his furniture company, and he’s hiring me as his partner. He’s getting a new sign that reads ‘James and Son, Fine Furniture.’”

  Matt arched an eyebrow. Never had he imagined James had it in him to turn his life around. “That’s good news.”

  “I told Pa what you said about changing my name, but he sa
id that would be a mistake. Said it was high time that people started thinking fine furniture when they heard the James name. Not outlaws.”

  Matt nodded approval. “I agree with your pa,” he said. “Guess that means you’ll have to quit your other jobs.”

  “Already have.” Jesse flashed a quick smile before turning serious. “Pa said that if I ever see him touch a bottle, I’m to fetch the doc right away.”

  Matt nodded approval. It sounded like James was doing everything right. “Glad things worked out,” he said. His bedroll secure, Matt tightened the saddle’s tie strap. “What about your plan to join the Rangers?”

  Jesse hesitated. “I guess it’ll have to wait. Pa needs me.”

  Matt squeezed the boy’s shoulder. “I’d say you need each other.”

  Jesse scraped the ground with the toe of his boot. “I’m gonna miss you,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “You have to promise to write to me.”

  “Will do,” Matt said, pulling his hand away. “Any chance I can talk you into returning to school?”

  Jesse made a face. “Pa said if I wanted to be his partner, I had to go to school in the mornings and work for him the rest of the day.”

  Matt grinned. Good for his pa! Since Jesse looked about to tear up, Matt reached into his pocket for a coin. “James and Son calls for a celebration. I’d say ice cream is in order.”

  Jesse’s face broke into a wide grin. “Oh yeah. I forgot. Celebrating is one of your rules.”

  “Here’s another rule—take care of yourself. And take care of your pa.”

  “I will,” Jesse said.

  Surprised once again by his reluctance to leave, Matt sucked in his breath. “I gotta go. Got a train to catch.”

  The corners of Jesse’s mouth drooped. “Wish you didn’t have to go.”

  “It’s time. My job is done here.” Matt slipped his foot into the stirrup of his horse and mounted. “Will you do me a favor? Will you check on Mrs. Blackwell from time to time?”

  Jesse’s forehead creased. “I was right. You do like her.”

  Matt sucked in his breath, and a wave of emotions washed over him. Like didn’t begin to describe his feelings. Still, if he admitted even to himself any more than that, he’d never be able to leave town.

  “Yeah, I like her,” he said.

  “Then why are you leaving?”

  “Got work to do,” he said, and before Jesse could ask any more questions, Matt snapped the reins and rode off with a wave of his hand.

  His heart seemed to grow heavier by the minute as he arranged for his horse to be transported on the animal car and boarded the train himself. He didn’t even chance a glance out the window for a last glimpse at the town. Didn’t dare.

  34

  For the next three months, Matt tried forgetting Haywire and all that had happened there. Tried forgetting a certain pretty lady and her two adorable children. Tried focusing solely on work and tracking down his brother.

  Other than the fact that Charley was still on the lam, it had been a productive three months. The Rangers had helped settle a labor dispute and tracked down a group of fence cutters. They’d also caught a gang of cattle rustlers that had been plaguing the area for months.

  Catching the rustlers had required Matt’s company to spend long hours in the saddle. Matt spent even longer nights tossing and turning on the hard ground beneath the starry skies while the others slept. This gave him plenty of time to think about things he didn’t want to think about. Remember things he’d best forget. Like pretty blue eyes and a winning sweet smile.

  Though he was tempted to chuck it all and return to Haywire, he wouldn’t. Couldn’t. He had things to do. Outlaws to catch. Responsibilities. Promises to keep.

  Charley was now one of Texas’s most wanted men and always seemed to be one step ahead of the law. No bank was safe. He had even managed what many had thought impossible; he had single-handedly held up a train.

  It was this latest holdup that convinced the captain to relent and let Matt work solely on the case.

  Matt immediately set to work questioning witnesses, hoping for that one vital clue that had so far eluded him. Eluded everyone.

  Finally, he got his wish. It happened shortly after Charley robbed a stage outside Austin.

  One of the passengers was a telegraph operator by the name of Abigail Meadows. Miss Meadows was a small, meek, birdlike spinster who hardly seemed like the kind of person to give anyone trouble, let alone an outlaw like Charley. But she had noticed something that no one else had—the man who’d robbed her stage wore an unusual deer head signet ring.

  During the excitement that followed the holdup, she’d forgotten about the ring. It wasn’t until she’d spotted the same exact band on a man in town that she thought about it.

  She then did something unexpected and most likely out of character for her—she bravely followed the man to his cabin.

  It was the very same cabin that Matt scoped out late that afternoon from behind a grove of trees. Rangers Parker and Madison were supposed to have met him there, but so far neither of them had shown up.

  Matt grimaced. Should he wait for them to arrive or move in? The fact that the captain had arranged for the other two Rangers to meet him was proof that he still didn’t trust Matt to treat his brother like any other outlaw.

  Rankled by the thought, Matt studied the house with narrowed eyes. Built from white-washed adobe with a flat roof, it was just as Miss Meadows had described it. The ends of wooden support poles jutted out from beneath the roofline, and green shutters hung haphazardly from a single window.

  It had been roughly built as a square box with a stone porch leading up to a weathered wooden door. The house probably once belonged to a miner. Years ago, gold and silver were discovered in the area, and people had flocked there in droves. Cabins sprang up like mushrooms after the rain. Unfortunately, the hoped-for boom failed to materialize, and the makeshift cabins were deserted as quickly as they’d been built.

  Matt had imagined this moment many times over—the moment he came face-to-face again with his brother. He thought about what he would say to him. If he could get Charley to surrender, a judge was more likely to be lenient. The outlaw Jesse James’s brother Frank had turned himself in. He then stood trial and was acquitted. Word was that the man had gone straight. Matt hoped the same for Charley.

  Wishing he had a spyglass, Matt narrowed his eyes against the glare of the late-afternoon sun. The only sign of life was a single brown gelding tethered in front. The horse was saddled, which suggested that Charley planned to go out.

  His impatience growing by the minute, Matt forced himself to wait for the other two Rangers. Did they get lost? What?

  The sun sank lower into the sky, sending long shadows creeping across the earth like giant fingers. It was the fading light that made Matt decide to act.

  Eyes alert for the least bit of movement at the house, he crept to the edge of the trees. The gelding twisted its head to one side, cocked its ears, and stared at Matt.

  Matt covered the twenty or thirty feet between the trees and house without making a sound. The soil was soft, muting his steps. The horse maintained its intense stare but didn’t move.

  Speaking softly to the horse, Matt untied it and kept hold of the reins. He’d hoped that releasing the horse would bring Charley outside on the run. The cabin was miles from town, and the loss of his horse would present a hardship. The problem was the soil was soft and the sound of horse’s hooves might not be heard from the house.

  In the end, the gelding solved the problem by tossing his head back with a loud neigh. Matt barely had time to slap the horse’s rump to get him running before the door to the cabin sprung open. He ducked out of sight by the side of the porch just in the nick of time.

  Seemingly oblivious to everything else, Charley ran down the porch steps, waving his hands over his h
ead and yelling for his horse to come back.

  Matt stepped up behind him, gun drawn. “Hi, Charley.”

  Charley whirled around, hand on his holster. Quickly recovering from his initial surprise, his lips thinned into a smirking smile. “Well, if it’s not my dear brother. How’d you find me?”

  “I have my ways,” Matt said. Charley was younger than Matt by five years. Maybe it was the mustache, or even the cynical expression, but today, he looked considerably older. “You’ll make it a lot easier on us both if you throw down your gun and put your hands up.”

  Charley scoffed. “When have I ever taken the easy way out?”

  “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  “Oh no? Then what are you doing here?”

  “Hoping to take you in nice and peaceful-like,” Matt said. “You have a price on your head. Better to come with me than to chance facing a bounty hunter.”

  Charley gave a short, hollow laugh. “Go with you? What? And get my neck in a loop? No necktie party I ever saw was nice and peaceful.”

  “Far as I know, you’re only wanted for robbery,” Matt said. “Frank James turned himself in and was acquitted.”

  Charley scoffed. “You think that’ll happen to me?”

  Matt shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. The most you’ll get is time in the state pen.”

  “You have it all figured out, don’t you? Like always. After Pa was shot, the family fell apart, but not you. You were the big man. You didn’t even blame me for his death.”

  “Wasn’t your fault.”

  “There you go again.” Charley sniffed. “Always taking the high road. ’Course it was my fault. Pa wouldn’t have been at that shop had I not forgotten to pick up kerosene on the way home from school.”

  Matt studied his brother and remembered something Ellie-May had said. “So how much longer do you plan on punishing yourself?” Matt knew arguing with his brother would do no good. Still, he had to try.

  “Is that what you think I’m doing?” Charley asked. “Punishing myself?”