The Outlaw Bride (10 page)

“Five days,” she answered. “Would you like some water?”

He tried to nod but found it less painful if he remained still. “Yes.”

She lifted a cup and a reed, studied him for a moment, then placed the reed into the cup and sucked water into it. Next she covered the top of the reed with her finger to trap the liquid before she inserted it into his mouth.

The water was tepid, but he thought it was the most welcome thing he’d ever experienced. Considering he had no memory of the past, that probably meant very little.

Twice more she drew up water and dribbled it into his mouth. “Enough?”

“Yes.”

She pulled a muslin sheet over him and tucked it beneath his chin. “You should rest.”

She started to move away.

“Wait!”

“Yes?”

“Your name?” he whispered.

“I’m Rachel,” she answered.

“Where are the others?”

Tiny worry lines wrinkled her brow. “You mean the other travelers? They’re in their wagons.”

“And your husband?”

She averted her eyes. “I don’t have one … any longer. He’s passed on.”

There was something wrong with her answer. He didn’t know yet what it was. Then it came to him. “You found me? You took me into your wagon when you didn’t even know me?”

She waited a long time before she answered. “I didn’t have to. I always knew you would come.”

She didn’t know him, but she had been expecting him? Nothing made any sense. Suddenly he felt a cold rush of fear, as if he were stumbling through icy water,
being sucked down by a current he could neither see nor touch. As he tried to line up his thoughts, a feeling of urgency swept over him. There was somewhere he had to be. “I thank you, ma’am, for taking me in and caring for me. But I have to get back home.” He had to—

“Where is your home, Jacob?”

He started to answer, then realized that he didn’t know. “I … I’m not sure. I can’t seem to remember. I don’t know. I don’t know who I am.”

“You’re Jacob,” she said softly. “Don’t be afraid. I’ll take care of you.”

“Why? Why are you doing this? Why were you expecting me?”

“Because I prayed for a good man. And God sent you.”

Josie walked into the Laramie City jail in the middle of the afternoon. She hadn’t wanted to come, but after three days of assuming that Will was changing Callahan’s bandages, she knew it was time for her to resume some responsibility for her patient. Now he was her client.

The town jail had started out as a store with two windows on the front. Dr. Annie had insisted that they be opened in the heat of the summer, so they’d covered the windows with bars. But the bars didn’t keep people from looking in. From the sidewalk she could see Will Spencer. He sat in a rickety chair, his back to the street, his feet crossed at the ankles and resting on his desk.

She entered the open door, walked past him, and stood outside the only cell. Will snored lightly, his head leaned against the crude log wall behind him.

Callahan sat on his cot with his back against the far wall, watching her.

“How are you?” she asked.

“About as well as you could expect, considering I’m shot to hell and in a jail cell.”

His reply made her feel like a schoolgirl. “I meant, how are your wounds?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“Yes, I do. I’m your doctor.”

“You’re my lawyer, too. Why haven’t you gotten me out of here?”

Their conversation came in jerky sentences, as if they were strangers, instead of—what were they? He’d kissed her, that was all. No, that wasn’t all. He’d called her darlin’ and he’d touched her—‘loved her,’ he’d said.

In spite of her past, Josie had never heard anyone talk about a man loving a woman that way, not like Callahan had loved her. She shook off the rush of sensation those thoughts dredged up. He was out of her house now. All that was behind them. She understood he was just a man with manly needs that he expected to be satisfied. Yet, she was the one whose needs had been satisfied. What, she wondered, did that do to the man?

“You’re right. I haven’t done my job very well, have I?” Apparently Will had listened to her request and had found Callahan some clothes. He was wearing stiff new Levi’s jeans, a chambray shirt, and scuffed boots. He looked different with clothes on—somehow more distant. And he needed a shave. She made a note to bring a razor and soap the next time she came, and a comb.

“Dr. Annie will be back soon,” she said. “She’ll be able to evaluate your condition and tell you when you can go.”

“That’s not the answer I’m looking for,” he growled.

“Until Judge McSparren gets back, you aren’t going anywhere,” Will said, the heels of his boots thumping the floor. “Afternoon, Josie.”

Josie wondered how long he’d been awake. “Good afternoon, Will. I’ve come to change Mr. Callahan’s bandages.”

“Yeah?” he said, eyeing Josie curiously. “Just a minute and I’ll unlock the cell.” He ambled to his feet and, from a nail beside the front door, lifted a ring with two heavy keys attached.

“Do you really have to lock him up?” she asked.

“Nah,” Will answered, with a grin. “You wouldn’t run off if I asked you to stay, would you, Callahan?”

“I think you know the answer to that,” Callahan replied dryly. “Would you stay in a cell, Josie?” Callahan asked.

She felt foolish. She wouldn’t stay in jail. In fact, she hadn’t. On the several occasions when she’d been caught stealing, before she became a skillful thief, she’d played on the sympathy of the law by bawling her eyes out until they sent for her “mama.” Never mind that Mama was dead. Once the policeman left to fetch her mother, Josie would pick the lock on her cell and escape. No, she wouldn’t stay in jail either.

Will opened the iron door and held it back, his hand resting on his gun. “You can have fifteen minutes with your client,” he said. “I’m going to have to lock this behind you. Just holler when you’re done.”

“Thank you.” Josie nodded and slipped inside, then stood awkwardly by the door. There was no stool, and Callahan’s large body took up the entire bunk.

“If you’re still my doctor, get to it. I guess you’re a better doctor than you are a lawyer. You’ve patched me up to go to my own hanging, or maybe my brother’s funeral. Are you going to help me?”

She didn’t have an answer, for she knew his question had nothing to do with her doctoring. “I … I need to check your wounds.”

“Not necessary. They’re fine. I don’t need a doctor. I need someone to get me out of here—an outlaw.”

“Too bad. What you’ve got is me and we have to talk. First, you seem to be using your arm better. Is the soreness dissipating?”

“I figure I can shoot now. By tomorrow I ought to be able to kill a man, if I need to,” he said. “All I need is a gun.”

“I said I could defend you against going to jail for stealing the money.” She untied the cotton strips and peeled back the bandage on his shoulder. “Murder is another thing. Just who do you plan to shoot?”

“The son of a b—”

Will coughed.

“—whoever is responsible for getting me shot and Ben lost,” Callahan finished.

“Will, I’d like to talk to my client alone,” Josie said.

Josie could tell that Will wasn’t at all happy about leaving them, but he finally nodded. “I’m right outside, if you need me, Josie.”

“Talk about what?” Callahan asked, as soon as the door closed behind Will.

Josie jerked off the old bandage on his shoulder and cleaned the wound. “Your defense. I need to know exactly what you and Ben had set out to do. Tell me what happened that day,” she prodded, applying medication to the area. “You told me that the ranchers around Sharpsburg were having a problem with sick herds.”

“Sick is putting it mildly. Try dead.”

Josie nodded as she began to button his shirt. “All right then, let’s try something else. Did everyone know when you were leaving for Laramie?”

“Sure. And they knew the exact route, too.”

She perched on the edge of the narrow cot. “You think any of them might have gotten greedy?”

Callahan frowned. It would be easier to keep his mind on his answers if she were still poking around on his injuries. “Maybe, they’re all pretty desperate. Still, I don’t think any of them would try something like this. It would be hard to keep a herd of cattle a secret.”

“So you pooled all your money and jewels. And now you think you’ll lose your ranches. Tell me more about that.”

“Most of us have loans due in the fall. We won’t be able to make the payments, and Banker Perryman isn’t likely to let us slide. He’s made that clear.”

“Are you certain you didn’t recognize the men who attacked you?”

“Of course I’m certain. They wore masks. It was difficult to hear their voices. Then my horse threw me and I crashed into a big piece of granite.”

“But it could have been some of the ranchers.”

“It could have been Will Spencer, for all I know. Just get me out of here, I’ll find out.”

“How?” she asked.

“I’ll start by finding out if anyone from Sharpsburg’s been spending a whole lot of money.”

Callahan took Josie by the arm and forced her up and toward the head of the bunk.

“What are you doing?” she asked, trying to push him away.

“Getting up.” He held on to her and pulled himself upright. “The thieves could be halfway to the Oregon Territory by now. You’re a lawyer, Josie. All you know is books. Books won’t find Ben, and they won’t save me.”

Callahan was right. Josie’s lawyer mind kicked in,
overriding her frazzled emotions. “Callahan, are you sure you aren’t fooling yourself? Ben had the money and now he’s gone. Maybe he didn’t want to raise cows anymore.”

There was a long silence. “Ben would never steal, Josie. I’m the only one in the family who has ever been dishonorable.”

Callahan caught Josie’s arm, then let go and touched her cheek as he said softly, “You’ve got to help me, Josie. Get me out of here.”

“I can’t,” she whispered, leaning against his hand. “I am an attorney and I’ve sworn to uphold the law. But I’ll find a way to get you out of here. In the meantime I’ll find out who’s been spending money. Trust me, Callahan. I’m on your side.”

Trust her? He did trust Josie Miller. It was the rest of Wyoming, making plans to hang him, that he feared.

Long after Josie left, Callahan paced his cell. His attorney was an exceptional woman. A beautiful woman who occupied much too much of his thinking. He could still feel the soft touch of her lips, and his face still burned when he remembered what he’d done to her on her veranda. She seemed to have put the incident behind her; why couldn’t he? And why would this kind of thing be bothering him now? He must have had fifty women in the last fifteen years, and he couldn’t remember a single face. Why this one? Why now when life was crashing down around him, his future gone and Ben was missing?

Callahan flinched, feeling the weakness in his body. She might not be a doctor, but he was still alive. And he trusted her. But finding the men who’d shot him and chased Ben to God knew where, was a job for a man. It was his job. He had to get out, to learn the truth. As much as he hated the thought of it, he had to use Josie
to do that and he had to do it quick. Otherwise, some bounty hunter would believe that Ben had the money and go after him. Ben could be killed before Callahan could find him—unless Callahan found out the truth.

But where to start? Everybody in Sharpsburg had known what he and Ben were doing. Their mission had been the biggest topic of conversation in town. Even the drifters from the cattle drives knew everything, from the route they’d taken to the time they’d left. Any one of them could have been among the thieves who’d attacked them. But he hadn’t recognized any of them. He had only a vague recollection of a horse with an odd marking.

Callahan forced himself to walk. He had to get out of jail. To do that, he had to move.

All that afternoon and the next morning he paced his cell, stopping only when the stranger showed up at the Laramie City jail.

8
 

“I have a message for Sims Callahan,” the stranger said to Will Spencer. “Understand you have him in your jail.”

Will ambled to his feet and blocked the opening. “I do.”

“What I have to say is private.”

“Who are you?” Will asked.

“Name’s Jerome. Work for Lester Perryman.”

Will nodded. “Perryman? The banker over in Sharpsburg?”

“He owns the bank, yes. Among other things.”

“And what business would Perryman have with Callahan?” Will asked.

“My message is for Callahan, sheriff. Now, will you open his cell and let me in?”

“Callahan?” Will called over his shoulder, “You have a visitor, works for Perryman. You know him?”

Perryman? Oh, yes, Callahan knew Perryman, knew
him well. He held the mortgage on his and Ben’s ranch. He’d expected to hear from the man, but not so soon. The loan wasn’t due until fall. “Yeah. Let him in.”

“Guess you’d better let me search you,” Will told Jerome. “Just in case you plan to break my prisoner out of jail.”

“I certainly do not!” Jerome sounded offended. He held out his arms while Will checked for a gun.

Wearing a black suit and a small round hat, the man looked downright odd. As Callahan watched, it came to him that it wasn’t the clothes so much as it was the man wearing them. He was lean and suntanned, not like a banker’s associate, and his boots were those of a cowboy, not a clerk.