The Outlaw Bride (21 page)

W
ANTED
FOR
R
OBBERY
S
IMS
AND
B
EN
C
ALLAHAN
B
ROTHERS
FROM
S
HARPSBURG
R
EWARD
Telegraph Sheriff Will Spencer
Laramie, Wyoming
A
RMED
AND
D
ANGEROUS

Rachel’s heart sank.

Sims and Ben Callahan. Wanted for robbery. Rachel glanced around, making certain that no one was watching,
then reached out and grabbed the paper. As if she were holding the handle of a hot pot, Rachel jabbed the paper inside her carryall. With heart pounding, she turned and moved into the store. If Brother Joshua had any idea that her Jacob might be one of the wanted men, he’d turn him over to the law. The flyer had to be a mistake. Her Jacob was too kind and gentle to be a robber.

Her Jacob.
Even his name was a lie. Everything about their relationship was a lie—except the man himself. He’d married her out of a sense of obligation, telling her that he might even be married already. He’d been honest and she’d accepted that—because she needed him. He’d treated her with respect. She owed him something in return. But in spite of this, she realized that the pieces were beginning to fit. The name he’d called out was Sims. Her Jacob
was
one of the robbers.

What should she do?

Nothing, she decided. Not yet. Jacob wasn’t well enough to be subjected to jail and a trial. He needed to be protected. He didn’t know who he was, so as far as she was concerned, until he did, he wasn’t the man on the poster. Inside the post she gave her eyes time to adjust to the darkness and she listened.

“I’m Brother Joshua, God’s messenger,” the minister said.

“Hoke Pierce. This here’s my place. What you folks need?”

“You call this the Oregon Territory Trading Post,” Brother Joshua said. “But I thought the Oregon Territory was still more than a hundred miles away.”

“Yeah, well, it is now, but when folks first come out here, all the land from the Wyoming Territory to the Pacific Ocean was called Oregon.”

The proprietor looked up and caught sight of Rachel. “Afternoon, ma’am,” he said. “What can I get for you?”

“I need just a few things: flour, coffee, cornmeal, salt.” She stepped farther into the room and caught sight of some canned peaches. “I’d like two cans of those peaches, please,” she said, and fished her change purse from her reticule. “And maybe five cents worth of that hard candy.”

The men continued to talk among themselves while Rachel’s order was being filled. “Lot of excitement,” the man behind the counter said. “Did you run into any of those renegade Indians?”

A worried look crossed Brother Joshua’s face. “Indians? No. What happened?”

“Who knows what’s got ’em stirred up,” Hoke said. “But you’d best be careful. The last stagecoach driver through here said he saw several raiding parties.”

“Did they hold up the stage?” Brother Joshua’s scout asked.

Hoke shook his head. “Funny thing about that. Just looked in the coach like they were searching for somebody, then rode off. Driver said he didn’t have no passengers. Guess they weren’t interested in the mail.”

“Here you are, ma’am,” Hoke said, and gave Rachel a total.

She winced while counting out the money. Perhaps her concern over the Indians was unnecessary, unless they were looking for Jacob. But that didn’t make sense. Why would Indians be looking for him? Their unrest was probably just more Indian unhappiness over the loss of their land. Still, she was anxious to get back to the train.

Thanking the storekeeper, she carried her supplies back to the horse she’d borrowed from Eli’s father and led him over to the shade of a tree.

If it were up to her, she’d ride back alone. But the
threat of nervous Indians made that impossible. Brother Joshua wouldn’t allow it. She was neatly boxed in, Jacob and whoever was looking for him behind them, Fort Bridger and the Army ahead. An army fort would certainly be on the lookout for a robber. At least the wagon train would head north, avoiding the fort. And by coming here, Rachel had been forewarned. She’d keep Jacob in the wagon to avoid calling attention to him.

She reached inside her carryall and made sure the flyer was still safely hidden. It was just a matter of time until someone else saw one. When they crossed the Green River, she and Jacob would leave the train. Once they made it to her land, he would be safe. After that, they’d just have to take things one day at a time. Deep in thought, she barely heard the crying. She tilted her head to listen. The sound came from an animal, not crying so much as whimpering.

She followed the noise to a sorry little fenced area lined with sagebrush. Inside, tangled in the brush, was a small hound-like puppy. At the sight of Rachel, his brown eyes lit up and he wagged his long tail limply.

“Oh, you poor little thing,” she whispered, picking him up and holding him close. “You’re half starved, aren’t you?” The word
half
was an understatement. No animal should be treated like this.

She started toward the trading post in strides that meant harm to Hoke Pierce or whoever had penned up the dog. Then she stopped. No telling how long the little thing had been out there with no shelter, no food or water. It was obvious that whoever was responsible didn’t deserve him.

Voices announced the return of the men. Rachel whirled, turned back to her horse, transferred her
supplies to her saddlebag, and slipped the dog in her carrying case. “Be quiet, little one,” she cautioned.

As if he understood, the dog allowed Rachel to mount her horse and hang the handle of her case over the saddlehorn.

“Ready, Mrs.—what is your name now?” Brother Joshua asked.

“Christopher,” Rachel answered. And somehow she had become Rachel Christopher, who, with her husband Jacob, was heading out west to their farm and to start a new life. The pup let out one soft little sound of contentment, and as if he knew, he complied with her silent request for the rest of the ride. Now Rachel was guilty of theft, too. She hadn’t stolen money as Jacob was accused of, but taking a small brown pup was just as much a sin.

Rachel Christopher
, she repeated to herself. She liked the sound of that name. As they rode back toward the train, Rachel Christopher began to sing a familiar old hymn about going home. To her surprise, Brother Joshua joined in.

“Maybe he ought to sing his sermons,” the scout said under his breath, and gave Rachel a wink.

Brother Joshua was returning to his flock.

Rachel was returning to Jacob.

15
 

Tired of tossing and turning, Ellie eased out of bed and went to the window.

Through the gauzy curtains, she could see Will across the street. After the crowd had dispersed earlier, he’d dragged a bench outside of the livery stable, lit up a cigar, and settled in to keep watch over his prisoner.

Did he know she was watching him now? Ellie wondered, then decided it didn’t matter. The only watcher he was interested in was Josie. And Josie was interested only in Callahan. Ellie knew that hoping for a life with Will was a dream she’d never realize. Ellie had decided to take Josie’s offer to finance a small restaurant back in Laramie—that was, if Josie still had enough money after this ordeal.

A restaurant wouldn’t be the same as having a husband and a family, but she’d have respectable work. Cooking might not be her best talent, but she could learn. And
maybe she’d be able to employ other women who needed to support themselves, an idea she would have never thought about had it not been for Josie.

Opening the buttons of her gown, Ellie fanned herself. Wyoming summers were intense and hot. A slight breeze broke the stillness, and she could smell Will’s cigar, rich and pungent. She liked it. She didn’t smoke, but many of the girls she worked with did. The men seemed to enjoy it, and it was one pleasure they were willing to share without expecting anything in return.

Hoping to catch more of the breeze, Ellie stepped through the window and out onto the roof over the sidewalk. Though the moon was near setting, the stars were so bright that they sucked up the darkness. She sat, covered her feet with her gown, and rested her elbows on her knees, listening, feeling a sadness sweep over her.

Across the street, Will watched. He’d sensed movement for some time before the shadowy figure stepped through the window. For a moment he thought it was Josie. Then he caught sight of the darker hair against the pristine white of a nightgown and knew he was looking at Ellie. The pale starlight showered over her, recreating the kind of painting he’d once seen. She was beautiful, and he wondered why he had never noticed that before, and why she looked so dejected. She bent forward and rested her chin on her drawn-up knees.

Lonely, Will thought, settling back to study her while he smoked his cigar. Her pain reached out and touched him in a way he didn’t understand. He’d never thought much about Ellie, never paid for her services or even noticed her. Not until she’d been accused of a crime. Who was she, this Ellie Allgood who had been a saloon girl defended by Josie Miller?

Remembering that defense, Will smiled. Virgil had
given Ellie the watch; he was certain of that. But Will hadn’t been able to find it when he searched her room, and he knew damn well it hadn’t been in Virgil’s pocket all that time. Josie found a way to get Virgil to hug her and somehow managed to put the watch in his pocket.

He thought back to when he had searched Ellie’s room. It had been neat and clean and dignified, despite its pitiful furnishings. She was a proud woman. He wished he knew what was making her so sad now.

She stood, and for a moment Will feared she would go back inside. Instead, she moved to the edge of the roof and looked across at him, almost as if she were waiting.

Will eased to his feet and walked out into the middle of the street. “Is something wrong, Ellie?”

“No,” she replied quickly. “I just can’t sleep. I feel like I’m the one in jail.”

“Maybe you’ve been cooped up in the heat too long. Come on down and keep me company for a spell.”

“I don’t know,” Ellie said hesitantly. For years she’d dreamed of Will being one of the men who led her up the back stairs at Two Rails and a Mirror. But she didn’t want that now. She would never let any man, not even Will, touch her that way again. She wanted to be loved.

“Please.” He held out his hand.

Unable to resist, Ellie walked barefoot along the roof to the steps at the end and down to the street.

When Will touched her fingers to lead her to the bench, she hesitated for a moment, then let out a deep breath. “What if someone sees you?” she asked.

“Sees me?”

“With me. I mean, you’re the sheriff. Your reputation is important.”

“Well,” he teased, “I guess I could get into trouble
meeting a beautiful woman wearing a nightgown in the middle of the street.”

Ellie gasped and made a move to leave.

“Don’t go. It’s
your
reputation we need to protect. I know—if we have to explain, we’ll just say you were sleepwalking,” he said, chuckling.

“There was a girl once, back in Cheyenne, who walked in her sleep.”

“Where did she go?” Will asked curiously.

Ellie realized that Will was still holding her hand. “To church. She never set foot inside a church in the daytime, so far as I know. Bar girls weren’t allowed to attend services. But when she was upset, she’d get up and walk there in her sleep. I used to follow her inside. She’d run up to the altar, just stand there listening, as if she were hiding or maybe waiting for someone. Then she’d start to cry and wake herself up. ‘He promised he’d come,’ she’d say.”

“ ‘Who?’ I’d ask. But she’d never answer. Finally, I’d take her back to bed.”

“Do you think whoever she was waiting for ever came?” Will asked.

“I’m not sure if he was who she had in mind, but there was a man who came for her—a big, mean man. He beat her, then put her on a horse, and they rode out of town. I never saw her again, but I never forgot the sound of her crying.…” Ellie finished, her voice trailing into silence.

Will squeezed her hand. “At least she had you to care for her, for awhile. Some people never have that.”

Ellie’s throat was tight from holding back her tears. Everyone needed someone to lean on, she thought. And now, just for awhile, she had Will. He made her feel safe.

They didn’t talk about Josie or Callahan or what might happen. They didn’t talk about Ellie and what she had been and done. Every once in a while one of the horses in the livery moved or there was a creak from the settling building. But for the most part, Will and Ellie simply sat, quietly, peacefully.

They knew the hour was late when a cold breeze swept by and Ellie shivered. Will let go of her hand and put his arm around her. She snuggled against his side and they sat, two people alone in the quiet night, strangers who now shared the simple story of a woman who walked in her sleep and the warmth of each other’s company.