The Outlaw's Mail Order Bride

by Linda Broday

Clay was quick to set them all straight. “Except for my soon-to-be wife. I’m not sharing her. You’ll have to get your own.”

  Chuckles erupted with some ribbing, and the lighthearted moment eased some of Clay’s nervous jitters.

  * * *

  After telling Violet a bedtime story, Tally lay in the dark dugout, listening to the rhythm of the windmill and the men’s voices outside. Hoots of laughter occasionally reached her ears. She wondered what they talked about. She liked how these men were so easy with one another. It never occurred to her that hardened outlaws might crave companionship as much as women. But watching Clay earlier, she’d seen his desperate need for someone to share his life with. And she’d glimpsed instant panic on his face when he thought she’d leave.

  She grimaced, wishing she’d handled the bed situation better. She should’ve explained, but the less she said about Creedmore the better.

  Throwing back the worn quilt, she rose, tucking the covers around Violet, who softly snored, and went to stand at the window. Clay was easy to spot in the middle of the group of outlaws. The proud set of his broad shoulders drew her gaze.

  This man with a bounty on his head had claimed her for a wife.

  Tally allowed a smile. For the first time since her father had died, someone wanted her. Clay had promised to fight for her. And Violet, too, even though he’d never seen her before.

  He hadn’t spoken of love in his letters to her, and neither had she. It was far too early to know if that was possible. What he had talked about, however, had touched a chord in her. Things like his desire to better himself, the way he needed to matter to someone, and about his dream of one day being able to travel freely, and not once glance over his shoulder or wonder who lay in wait in the darkness.

  Tally touched the mark on her cheek, wishing for the very things Clay’s heart yearned for. But even if she were to achieve her goals, she could never get away from the tattoo. That had been done on purpose, placed for everyone to see.

  For her, there would be no chance of a life beyond the safety of Devil’s Crossing. Even if by some miracle the men from Creedmore stopped looking for her, she’d never fit in with regular society. She’d seen and done too much to truly be civilized. But here, at least, she’d have a place. Anticipation built inside her for the coming dawn. She would marry this dreamer and stand by his side through everything that came.

  Twinges of pain raced down her neck, then it felt as though someone had a fist around her heart, squeezing. Tally stiffened, trying to ready for the shooting pain that pierced her. She clutched her chest, holding back a cry, until it passed. How long could she hide this?

  Clay’s laughter drifted through the door. Tally let the curtain fall back into place and returned to bed. She stared up in the darkness, imagining lying with Clay beside her, until her eyes grew heavy.

  And she dreamed.

  * * *

  She was bouncing around in the bed of a wagon. Her head pounded and she tried to touch it, only to find her hands tied. What was going on?

  “We’re here,” Lucinda ground out. “Your new home.”

  Where was “here”? A door opened and some men came out. Lucinda told them to get Tally inside and handed the tallest man a wad of money.

  Panic raced through her and she tried to cry out, but her mouth refused to work. Strong hands gripped her and dragged her into a stone room that smelled of vomit—and death. Her teeth chattered from the cold. Where was she? What was happening? Tally couldn’t get her tongue to move, words to come from her mouth. Her eyes didn’t want to focus.

  Shadows swathed the man standing over the table where they’d laid her. “Now, let’s see what we’ve got.” He turned to the woman beside him. “You said you just want her gone and don’t care what happens to her in here?”

  “Make her life as miserable as you can before she dies,” Lucinda Shannon snarled. “I never want to see her again.” Although shadows hid her stepmother’s face, Tally knew Lucinda’s lips would be set in a thin, straight line. Like always.

  “A pleasure doing business with you. I trust you can see yourself out.”

  Footsteps moved away and the door shut, sealing Tally’s doom. His hands moved over her body, squeezing, pinching, taking what he wanted. She tried to fight, to yell and scream, but still couldn’t move her tongue or her arms. In her drugged state, she could put up little resistance.

  She was at the mercy of an evil man. And no one knew where she was.

  Her scream came no louder than a whimper as they removed her clothes and replaced them with a shapeless, scratchy gown.

  So cold. So scared. So alone.

  Her situation became clear. The woman she’d been no longer existed. In just a few short minutes, she’d become a nobody—just a thing for others to do with whatever they wished. Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes. Her hell had begun.

  * * *

  Tally jolted awake, her heart racing. She wiped her tears and forced herself to take deep breaths, assuring herself over and over that she wasn’t in Creedmore.

  Still gasping, she went to the door and threw it open to gulp the fragrant air so different from the stale rooms of her prison. A cool breeze caressed her face, calming her. Someone touched her arm, and she was startled to find Clay in the darkness, only inches away. Had he been standing guard?

  “What’s wrong, Tally?” Concern laced his deep voice.

  She started to reach for him, wanting his touch, but drew back a little. Trust had to start from someplace. She couldn’t continue this way. Hesitant and unsure, she laid a trembling hand on his arm.

  “Please hold me, Clay. Just for a little while,” she whispered. “I need…”

  Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her and she found safety and blessed security in his heartbeat so close.

  Five

  The Texas Panhandle was never stingy with its breathtaking sunrises, but the one that greeted Clay the next morning was likely the grandest he’d ever seen. Sweeping brushstrokes colored the magnificent sky with vivid golden hues, like nuggets glistening in a pool of clear water. As he stood in awe, slashes of rose, purple, and turquoise appeared, blending and swirling into a portrait too beautiful for words to capture.

  He and Tally stood on the rim of the bluff overlooking Devil’s Crossing. The outlaw town was invisible down below, cloaked by the rocks and brush. He turned to face the friends gathered around.

  And the woman he would vow to care for and protect with his life.

  Tall and graceful, Tally wore the sunny, lemon-colored dress she’d arrived in the day before. And Clay had nothing fancy either—just plain, everyday clothes, which were good enough. They weren’t trying to impress anyone.

  Eyeing her dress, Clay could see a place where she’d mended it. There were probably others as well. He made a silent vow to buy her the prettiest dresses he could find the next time he went to a town of any size. And he’d make her a new pair of boots to replace the shabby ones she wore. Although she tried to hide it, he could tell by her limp that her feet killed her.

  Something had happened. While his lady was in Creedmore? Maybe.

  His lady. The words didn’t seem real yet. He reached for her hand and found it a chunk of ice. A glance at her smooth complexion, marred only by the mark on her cheek, revealed the effects of little sleep. But the scared angel he’d held last night had vanished. In her place stood the bold, self-assured woman he’d first met. She didn’t smile.

  He studied her proud profile, facial bones delicately carved. A full, lush mouth. And her hair—wind-whipped strands of fire. Something stirred inside him and awakened a deep yearning.

  “Are you sure about this, Tally? You can still back out.”

  “This is my path to follow, and follow it I will.”

  “So will I.” Maybe this once, the bride wouldn’t walk away and leave him before the
ceremony. But they had yet to speak their vows. At least she’d left off her gun and holster, although he suspected she was rarely without the hardware.

  She hadn’t said what had sent her running to the door the night before, and he hadn’t asked. He’d learn soon enough. Just like he hadn’t told her that he’d planted himself outside the door to make sure she and Violet came to no harm.

  He’d guard those two with his life. They’d given him a reason to keep breathing.

  Bullet scampered to Violet, who stood on the other side of Tally, begging for some attention. She shifted her doll to her left hand and petted him, talking softly. Girl and dog appeared to have become inseparable in less than a day, and Clay was happy to see it.

  Ridge Steele, tall and somber in his black frock coat, stood before them with his tattered Bible, his gun hanging from his hip. He hated to be pressed into service—a reminder that he still couldn’t reconcile his past deeds with his teaching. Like them all, he struggled to find his way.

  “We’re gathered here on this fine morn to join Clay and Tally together as one mind, one heart, one purpose,” Ridge began.

  Violet, wearing a crown of braided daisies, removed her hand from Bullet and clutched Tally’s dress. Clay glanced down at her upturned face and winked before he remembered she lived in darkness. He ached for the pretty little golden-haired girl. He couldn’t imagine such a life, with peril at every turn that she couldn’t even run from.

  He swung his attention back to Ridge and repeated his vows. His eyes misted as he realized all a marriage entailed. From now on, he had to put Tally and Violet before his own needs. That was the true mark of a man.

  “Do you have a ring, Clay?” Ridge asked.

  “Of sorts.” Clay fumbled in his pocket for the ring he’d found in the sack of coffee beans. He took Tally’s right hand and looked deep into her eyes. “This isn’t much, but it’s all I have right now. I’ll buy a better one later to match my pretty bride.”

  He slipped the silver band on her finger. The small, sparkly stone glittered in the sun, but he had to stifle a curse when he realized that it was too large. “Sorry about the fit.”

  “It’s perfect.” Tally gave his hand a reassuring squeeze but still didn’t smile. “I’ll wrap string around the band and it’ll be fine.”

  “Just until I can do something better.” She was clearly used to settling for less, but Clay would get her a ring that fit one day or die trying.

  Ridge concluded the ceremony. “You may now kiss the bride, Clay.”

  Swelling with emotion, Clay pulled his beautiful Tally close and lowered his mouth. At the touch of her lips, warmth swept the length of his body.

  He slid an arm around her and splayed a hand on the curve of her back. Happiness surged, making him tremble.

  He was no longer alone and he asked for nothing more.

  This marriage might not be perfect, but they’d try to find a way to make it work.

  Whether intentional or not, Ridge had left out the obeying part from Tally’s vows. Thank goodness. Already this early in their marriage, Clay knew that the words obey and Tally were never to be uttered together. She was a free, independent spirit and he wouldn’t have her any other way.

  The kiss ended and Tally raised her eyes. “Mr. Colby, we’d best get out of these clothes and get busy. The day’s wasting.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Clay doubted ten sticks of dynamite could wipe the grin off his face. He took Violet’s hand. “Let’s go, pretty girl. I’ll walk you to the wagon.”

  She raised her panicked face. “No, I want Mama Tally.”

  “Okay, honey.” He and Tally hadn’t talked about the girl and her adapting to him. It was all going to take getting used to. And maybe even longer for someone who couldn’t see his face. Maybe she would grow more comfortable after he spent some time with her.

  Violet took hold of Tally’s hand, whispering loudly, “I don’t know him.”

  “Give her some space, Clay.” Tally solemnly met his glance. “She doesn’t trust men, but she’ll come around.”

  “I have all the patience in the world for her—and you.”

  Her quiet optimism about Violet offered hope. Tally made him believe that he could have everything his heart desired.

  Yes, maybe even love over time. If he played his cards right.

  Clay watched how careful Luke was with Josie, helping her to the wagon. His wife carried the dream for their future. Clay’s gaze swung to Tally and found her expression guarded. Probably trying to figure out what she’d gotten herself into. The early rays of sunlight fired the red of her hair, making it flame, and his breath caught in his chest. With luck, maybe one day she’d grow fat with his baby.

  Still a bit hesitant and unsure of her reaction to his touch, he slipped his arm around her waist and leaned close, inhaling her fragrance. “How did you like the sunrise, Tally? I ordered it specially for my beautiful bride.”

  “The sky, the ceremony was everything I’d hoped. I never thought you’d have a ring though. It’s lovely.” And then she smiled for the first time since he’d met her, and he’d never seen anything so dazzling.

  It felt as though he’d just emptied a full bottle of whiskey in one gulp.

  It was a beautiful day in which to begin the rest of his life.

  * * *

  Tally stood with Clay, waving goodbye to Luke and Josie. She’d thought she might dread this moment, but looking deep inside, she found no twinges of regret. It had been time to listen to Luke and Josie and her heart, although it had taken courage to leave the safety of Deliverance Canyon. This marriage could be a big mistake, but she realized she wanted to be here. Surprise accompanied that admission. How could she feel so at peace about a place this soon? Could it be possible that it might not be the place at all?

  It could be the feel of Clay’s nearness and his strong arm around her. She liked this man, her husband, wanted outlaw or not. He carried the scent of this wild Texas land and power in his touch. Yet, the look in his eyes spoke of doubts. He didn’t fully believe yet that dreams really could come true.

  But hopefully he would.

  She let her arm slip around his waist and wondered at her boldness. She glanced up into his honest brown eyes that seemed to promise things he couldn’t find words for. She couldn’t imagine why any woman would turn him down. Didn’t they see what lay buried under all the loneliness and isolation?

  Tally smiled at her new husband, and he brushed her cheek with his calloused finger. She did belong here. With Clay Colby. At least until spring. Who knew beyond that?

  A conversation she’d had with Hester Mason came to mind. She’d met Hester while inside the asylum—things would’ve been a lot worse if not for the woman. She’d come to take over the care of the women in Deliverance Canyon, but even knowing Hester was now in charge, Tally had balked at leaving.

  “You’ve worked tirelessly toward the survival of the escapees, Tally,” Hester had said. “But it’s your turn to find a better life, to find the man who’ll love and cherish you. You’ve earned some happiness.”

  “What about you, Hester? You deserve it, too. We all do.”

  “I’m old and long past matters of the heart. All I want is to live out my days here in this place. There’s beautiful peace here.” Hester had patted Tally’s shoulder. “You go and try this marriage thing out. If it works, then maybe some of others can get out of here, too, and walk in the sunlight.”

  Hester knew Tally wouldn’t abandon them and meant to carry on her work of freeing the women of Creedmore. She’d also gather supplies for them, and if those escapees wished to move farther west, Tally would take them. Clay was another matter, and she saw no reason at present to have to choose between them. This was her pledge to those women, her vow to herself.

  A niggling in her brain said that maybe one day she might be forced to split her
loyalties—her husband or the women of Deliverance. She wouldn’t relish that decision.

  Clay pressed a hesitant kiss to Tally’s forehead, jarring her from her musings.

  “You look a million miles away,” Clay remarked. “Having second thoughts already?”

  “Not yet.” Her gaze found Violet nearby with the dog. “Devil’s Crossing might be good for Violet—and me.”

  “Music to my ears.” He released her. “I guess I’d best get back to work on that bed, Mrs. Colby. It’ll be dark before we know it.”

  His nearness made her heady and Tally had trouble keeping her thoughts straight. “While you’re doing that, I’ll start clearing away the charred mess here. Luke will be back in two or three weeks with the new lumber. We want to be ready. What do you have in mind when you get those two buildings back up?”

  Clay ran his fingers through his dark brown hair. “A mercantile for one, and a small hotel for the other. A place for Luke and Josie as well as folks passing by. Traders come pretty frequently. And maybe one day a stage line will add us to their route.”

  “We should think about a jail soon. We’re going to need one. I’m glad Luke took those other two away—I didn’t like the looks of them.” Luke had bound and gagged them before throwing them in the back of the wagon, but their surly attitudes had revealed the depth of their hate for Clay. If they happened to escape, this would be the first place they’d come.

  “You’re right about the jail. For now, I’ll rig up some sort of temporary cells. Many towns hold their prisoners in iron cages right out in the open. I reckon that’ll work until we can build something better.”

  Ridge strode toward them, leading a half-dozen men. They were loaded down with the makings for a new bed. Jack limped behind them, pulling a few bales of hay on a sled for the temporary mattress.

  “Guess I’ll get to work.” Clay paused, then kissed her cheek. “Tally, thank you for taking a chance on me. I promise never to make you regret it.”

  But he surely would. Tally shifted her gaze away from him. “A wagon rolls much smoother if both of the team pull equally.”