The Outlaw Bride (19 page)

“To prove he is innocent. To find the real thief.”

“If he’s innocent, it’s up to you to prove it in court.”

“I would have, if you’d done anything to help me. I still will, once I find the money.”

“I’ve done everything I can. I’ve sent telegrams to every office west and north asking for information about that missionary train. Nobody has seen it. I can’t even prove that it exists. Then I came down here and talked—separately—to the ranchers whose money was stolen. They’re angry. Not only have they lost their money, now they’re about to lose their ranches—all thanks to your
client.
”

“Not Callahan, Will.”

“Not Callahan? Okay, so it was the kid brother, Ben.”

She walked back over to the window and glanced down into the street. Even at this late hour, the ranchers were still milling around, their voices growing louder. Josie didn’t like the picture she was seeing or the possibilities that existed. In the last year, Judge McSparren and the law officers had done a lot to civilize the west, but this was still an untamed territory. She knew what a group of ordinary men could do if they were desperate enough to believe that Callahan was responsible for their losses. She needed to get Callahan out of Sharpsburg and back to Laramie where she had people she could call on to protect him.

“It wasn’t Ben either, and I can prove that.”

“How?”

“I’ve seen his signature on the paperwork settling the loan on their ranch. It’s a forgery. Neither of the Callahan brothers paid Perryman.”

“Probably not,” Will agreed. “I wouldn’t take a chance on coming into the bank and paying the debt either. I mean, folks in Sharpsburg just might notice that the man they’d given their life savings to was spending it. You want to hear something funny? I even interviewed Perryman.”

“I’d expected you to, Will.”

“I asked him if you were the one who’d paid off Callahan’s mortgage. After all, as Callahan’s attorney, you’d legally be able to do things on his behalf, wouldn’t you?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “Perryman said it was Ben who paid the mortgage, the same day as the holdup, before anyone knew what had happened.”

“You can’t believe Perryman,” Josie said. “This is a clear case of forgery.”

“I didn’t say that I did, Josie. But Callahan’s jailbreak certainly makes him look guilty. At the moment it’s Callahan’s word against Perryman’s. Who do you think the ranchers are going to believe?”

“I was hoping they’d feel more sympathy for Callahan.”

“Not when they owe Perryman money. What’s your plan now?”

Her answer was simple and devastating. “I don’t have one. All I know is that I have to stop Perryman from winning.”

Any further discussion came to a dramatic stop when Ellie pounded on the door, then opened it. “Josie! Will! Come quick. The hotel manager says those men are about to string up Callahan.”

Will swore. “Now look what you’ve done. There’s no way in hell I can stop a lynch mob.”

“I’m the one responsible,” Josie said. “Let me talk to them.”

“What makes you think they’ll listen to you?” Will
asked, turning to the door and making his way down the stairs.

“Because …” The solution came to her in a blinding flash as she trailed after him. It had been there all along. “I’ll pay for the cattle myself,” Josie announced.

“Think about that,” Will said. “Even if you wanted to, it wouldn’t be smart. How would you explain where you got the money?”

Josie took in a deep breath. She realized that by coming up with the money, she had just given Will more evidence to make Callahan look guilty. Either she was in it with Callahan or she’d been duped. Either way, the woman who loved him would be buying him out of his mess.

From the hotel counter she took a piece of paper and began to write. “Will, go wake up the telegraph operator and have him send this message to the Sinclair Banking Company in New York. Just so you know, Will, this is my own money. I made it investing in the stock market while I was studying law.”

Will took her scribbled message. “You know that won’t be what people think.”

“I don’t care what people think.”

“And it won’t get Callahan out of jail.”

“No, but it’ll buy some time, maybe keep Callahan from a hangman’s noose until I find enough evidence to dismiss the charges of theft and escape from jail.”

“I’d just like to remind you that as the sheriff, that’s my job,” Will said.

“Will, we’ve run out of time. And right now, I have to get to the livery stable in a minute, or I won’t have a client to defend.”

————

“We’re running low on supplies,” Rachel said. “Brother Joshua says that there’s a trading post about two miles west of here. I’ll borrow Eli’s horse and ride in with him, if you’ll keep the wagon moving.”

“No, I’ll go,” Jacob said, then frowned. “Of course, I can’t pay. I don’t even know if I have any money. You’ve just married a man who might not be able to support you.”

“We’ll figure it out,” she said. “I have some money. Enough, I think.”

“I’d like to think that I might able to contribute something, Rachel, but I’m not sure how. Maybe someone at the trading post knows who I am.”

Rachel blanched. He shouldn’t go. Somehow she knew this. Or maybe she didn’t want to take a chance. She’d watched him regain his strength, turning into a handsome young man. Even as the thought came to her, she tugged at her skirt. She wasn’t so old—she just felt old. Looking at Jacob’s dark eyes and thick curly hair, she wondered again how he’d come to be so badly beaten. There was something southern about him, his slow way of talking, his polite manners. Jacob Christopher, or whoever he was, was a gentleman. Wherever he’d come from, he was her gift from God, and she intended to protect and keep him, no matter who he was. By going to the trading post, she might be able to avoid Fort Bridger, the next place they could buy supplies. Fort Bridger was the federal law in this part of the territory. Fort Bridger had a stockade.

She felt a tinge of remorse at her need to protect Jacob from the truth. But as she thought about how diligently he’d tried to fill the role she’d assigned him, all the while struggling with his memory, she strengthened her resolve. Jacob might not be a farmer, but he belonged
to her now, and she intended to keep him. It wasn’t that he was unaccustomed to physical labor—he was no well-heeled easterner who’d never gotten his hands dirty. He was a gentle man, taking a real interest in Eli and making certain the boy always got a portion of the milk.

Jacob’s memory was returning in snatches, and that worried Rachel. She knew it was selfish of her, but if he never knew who he really was, she’d find a way to make him happy. Still, she heard him in the night, talking in his sleep, calling out in fear as he thrashed restlessly. The man who’d been sent to her was fighting his own demons, and she was afraid for him.

Rachel had to persuade him to let her go to the trading post instead. “Jacob,” she began, “I appreciate your offer, but I think I should go. And we’d be better off getting supplies here than waiting until we get to Fort Bridger.”

“Fort Bridger? There’s an army fort ahead?”

“About two days away. But Jacob, you have to be careful. We don’t know who beat you. They might still be out there. You could be in danger.”

He shot her a quick look, a frown marring his face. “What are you saying, Rachel? Do you know something you’re not telling me?”

“Know something? No. I just think it would be safer if I went, just to check it out. Then if you’re … wanted or something, I … we’ll know.”

“Wanted? You think I’m a criminal?” Jacob saw something in Rachel’s eyes he’d never seen before. Fear? Uncertainty?

“Of course not. It’s just that sometimes, in your sleep, you cry out, as if someone were chasing you. I keep remembering how badly you were beaten, and we can’t be sure whoever was responsible isn’t looking for you.” She
moved closer and put her hand on his arm. “Until we know, I’d feel better if you stayed with the wagon. Please?”

“I know you’re right. I don’t know who beat me, or why.” He felt her fingers tremble and frowned. “But I hate hiding behind a woman.”

“I know.”

“I promised you I’d help get you to your farm,” he said, trying to convince her of his usefulness. “Even if my memory comes back I’ll keep my promise. Will you ask the storekeeper if anyone’s been reported missing?”

“But suppose …”

Her grip tightened and he saw her eyes go dark. The laugh lines at the corner of her eyes deepened in concern, and before he realized what he was doing, he put his arm around her. “I’m not a criminal, Rachel,” he whispered.

She stiffened and glanced around, obviously self-conscious. It couldn’t have escaped the attention of their fellow travelers that even though they were husband and wife in God’s eyes, he still slept under the wagon. Everyone knew the marriage wasn’t real.

Jacob understood her fear that he might leave. Reverend Joshua had already made it plain that without a husband and supplies, Rachel would be left behind. And now that he was well enough to ride, there was nothing to keep him from going.

Except honor. Their marriage vows were a lie and yet he felt bound by them. Rachel had taken him on as her responsibility, and she’d become his.

“Don’t worry, Rachel,” he said, pulling her close. “You’re right, maybe you’d better go into town with the reverend. I’ll drive the wagon.”

14
 

Callahan swore and kicked the door. The room in which he’d been placed was too big for storage, too small for a stall, and too dark to find a way out. Spencer had locked him in the sleeping quarters that had been built into the stable. The livery owner had made it as snug as possible for the Wyoming winters and sturdy enough to keep out any liquored-up, cattle-driver cowboys. The sheriff had taken no chances with locks that could be picked; he’d laid a heavy timber on brackets across the door to prevent his prisoner from escaping. The only light in the room came from a glimmer of moonlight that shone through a crack in the wall opposite the door.

Moving forward, Callahan stumbled over what he discovered was a bucket and a … chair? An object caught him mid-knee, plunging him forward—an iron bed. He groaned. At least he’d found it with his uninjured side.

Callahan wasn’t sure he was ready to accept the word of an Indian on his brother’s whereabouts, no matter who the Indian was, but Josie had been certain. He clung to that hope. It was all he could do. Now, thanks to that same Josie, he was back in jail. And if the ruckus he could hear coming from the other side of the wall was any indication, he was about to be strung up—with or without the benefit of her expert legal help. He climbed up on the rickety bed, balancing a foot on either side of the frame.

A sliver of light came from a crack in the wall where the window might have been, if there’d been one. If he could just get his fingers behind the plank …

His hands were too big. He needed something to rip it off, an ax or a good knife. Too bad he didn’t have either. Too bad he didn’t have Josie Miller in here. He’d use her stiff backbone to pry it open or just let her argue the boards off the wall. The more he thought about what had happened, the more frustrated he became. It made no sense. The logical portion of his mind told him she hadn’t set him up, but his heart wasn’t so certain.

Callahan swore. Whatever the reason, he’d let a woman distract him, and now he was locked up again when he ought to be on the trail of the wagon train. Then again, what good had he ever done? They’d lost the plantation back in South Carolina. He hadn’t saved his sister and Ben from the horrors of the war. Now their cattle ranch was on its way to ruin. He hadn’t even been able to protect the money entrusted to him by the ranchers. Even worse, Ben was missing.

And then, there was Josie.

Will had caught both of them red-handed. He’d chosen to overlook Josie’s part in the break-in, protecting her by insinuating that she’d been part of a plan that would
result in Callahan’s arrest. But Will knew she’d implicated herself legally in the crime for which Callahan had been charged.

Involving herself, Callahan now knew, was something of a given from the start. Josie looked after every stray in Laramie, but up to now they’d mostly been women and drifters down on their luck. This time she’d taken on an outlaw. And he didn’t think that her normal rescue services included making love in a river. Once she’d kept Will Spencer from removing him from Dr. Annie’s clinic, the die had been cast. He hadn’t wanted her help; he hadn’t wanted to be obligated to any woman. But it seemed as if fate had taken a hand and determined that they belonged together.

Miss Josie Miller, his guardian angel, was the adopted daughter of the most prominent couple in Wyoming, in a time when women were coming into their own. They could vote, they could hold public office. Josie was an attorney, and she was a better doctor than ninety percent of those hanging up a shingle. But more than that, she was a woman who knew what she wanted and went after it. The last thing he’d ever expected was that someone like her would want a man like him.

Or that he’d drop his guard to trust her. Loyalty was a rare quality in anyone. He respected that. He respected Josie. Hell, he was probably in love with her. That made it impossible for him to let her suffer for her big heart. Or allow her to take charge and protect him by making sure he stayed in jail. He’d look after himself—if he could just get out of here.