Wilda's Outlaw (17 page)

“You let me worry about that. I ain’t been caught yet, have I? I’ll be back with food. Now, any other problems?”

“Yes,” Wilda interrupted. “What do we do if Lord Prescott and his men show up?”

“Lord who?” Rachel asked, turned toward him. “What’ve you done now?”

“What I suspect he always does,” Wilda said before he could answer. “He robbed the train, and then he kidnapped me.” She sent Calder a wicked grin, and he glared back.

“Kidnapped? Why would you kidnap her? It’s about money, isn’t it? Don’t worry dear, he won’t hurt you. He wouldn’t harm a fly. And you robbed the train? Oh, dear. As smart as you are, why can’t you just go get yourself a job like everyone else? Why are you still fighting that war? It’s over and done with, and nothing you do now will change anything that happened.”

“I told him the same thing,” Wilda chimed in. “About getting a job, I mean, but he didn’t listen. And it truly isn’t his fault about the kidnapping. I talked him into it.”

The woman appeared completely bewildered. “Talked him into it? Why on earth?”

“Whoa, hold up, the two of you. I should’ve known not to get in the middle of two women. What one of you don’t pick at the other will. I’m getting out of here. You okay? Both of you?”

Rachel smiled, nodded and scratched her stomach. Wilda gaped at the gesture. Bad enough the woman stood there in front of a man in only a nightdress, but to rub herself as if proud of being naked beneath the thin cloth, with him looking on. It was way too much. She had a long way to go to even begin to understand the lax moral standards of these westerners. Just let folks get free of England and its Victorian morals and they went absolutely wild. Unbelievable.

“Wilda, you okay?” he asked.

“What? Oh, yes, uh, I’m okay.”

He laughed. “Good girl. I’m getting out before you two come up with something else to rag me about. Be back. And if the posse comes by, it might be a good idea if you hide and Rachel can tell them she hasn’t seen us. Or you or whatever.

“Now, you stay out of sight, Wilda and let Rachel do the talking. And for God’s sake see if she’s got something you can wear.” He turned his back and clamped the outrageous hat down on his head, then glanced over his shoulder. “I’ll be back. With food.”

He gave Wilda such a heartrending look she almost grabbed him around the neck and kissed him. Instead, she grinned and wiggled her fingers in a goodbye wave.

“Be careful,” Rachel told him, but he was gone.

Wilda gazed at the empty door until Rachel spoke.

“I swear that man… Well, let’s find you something to put on, you do look well, kind of odd?”

She followed Rachel through the curtained doorway. The flame from the candle she carried revealed two children on the only bed, arms and legs flung wide. Another slept in some sort of makeshift cradle that looked more like a packing box. From a hook on the wall Rachel took down a plain calico dress and handed it to Wilda.

“It may be a bit short on you, but I think it’ll fit okay. Shake it good to get out the spiders.”

“Spiders?” Horrified, Wilda stared at the offering, then took it between finger and thumb.

Rachel laughed. “They fall from the roof, you see. You can change in here.”

Tears filled Wilda’s eyes at the kindness of this poor woman. “I thank you. I won’t eat much, I promise. I wish I could help with…with the food and, uh, things, but…” She shuddered at the idea of raising a family in such conditions.

“Never you mind. We’ll get by.” Rachel grimaced and rubbed her back.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. Hauling water for all our needs gives me a backache. Don’t you worry, I think I have enough cornmeal for some mush for all of us. It’ll hold us till Calder comes back. You get your clothes on now. Those kids’ll be waking up any minute. If you need to use the outhouse, it’s yonder.” She pointed vaguely, then backed from the room.

Dear Heaven. What wee beasties would she find in an outdoor toilet? With a shudder she stripped the shirt and jeans off, stood a moment looking down at the soiled corset cover, then yanked it off as well. She did wish she had some drawers and at least a petticoat to wear under the calico, but the corset would have to suffice. She was too embarrassed to ask for unmentionables and Rachel didn’t offer. Dropping the worn dress over her head she buttoned up the front and smoothed the fabric over her stomach. She took several steps across the floor. How light and free she felt.

“Who are you?” a tiny voice asked, and she jumped, glanced toward the bed.

The biggest of the two girls sat there rubbing her eyes.

“I am Wilda, who are you?”

“I’m Mary Louise Johnson. That’s Elizabeth Ann.” She pointed toward the smaller girl who had opened her big blue eyes to stare at Wilda. “And the baby is John Mark. When he wakes up he cries, so we should be quiet.”

Wilda smiled at the adorable girls. “Well, hello to you both. I am so very pleased to meet you.”

“And we are so very pleased to meet you,” Mary Louise mimicked, then grabbed her sister’s hand. “Come on, we have to go outside. Hurry or you’ll get the bed wet and mommy will fuss.”

At the door she stopped and turned to regard Wilda. “Are you going to be here when we get back?”

“Oh, yes, I will be.”

“Good,” the child said, and dragged her sister from the room.

Wilda followed, watched them scamper out the front door.

Rachel stood over the stove, stirring a steaming pot. “Reckon you met the girls. They can be a handful, but they’re really very good when they want to be. Sorry I don’t have sweetening for the mush, nor butter either. We had a cow, but she died of milk fever a while back.”

How sad. Back at Fairhaven a rich variety of foods were set three times a day on the table, then half of it carried away uneaten. This poor woman had it much worse than Rowena, Tyra and herself at St. Ann’s. How could she live out here like this? And where was her husband, the father of the children? Unless she’d been right and they were Calder’s. After all, he was trying to feed them. He had told her nothing about Rachel except that she needed a hand. From the looks of things, she certainly needed much more than a mere hand.

As Rachel started to dish out the cornmeal mush, the baby set up a howl.

“Let me get him,” Wilda said, and darted off before Rachel could reply. She soon regretted her offer, for the child was soaking wet, as were all his bedclothes.

She gathered him up under the arms, and holding him away from her body, carried him into the other room. Big blue eyes pooled with tears, he studied her, sobbing away the cries and stuffing two fingers in his mouth. His crop of blond curls were matted on one side where he had perspired during the night, yet he was as beautiful as an angel.

Not prepared for her reaction, Wilda’s breath caught. She had never even held a baby.

Rachel laughed. “Give him here, I’ll change him. You sit down. There’ll be time for you to pitch in later.” In one movement, she took the child, leaned her head out the doorway, called to the girls to come in for breakfast and swept a white cloth off a line behind the stove.

Though her own stomach grumbled with hunger, while Rachel was gone, Wilda spooned most of the mush from her bowl into the other four on the table. So little for growing children to eat, let alone a toiling woman. A wish to do something about Rachel’s circumstances took root and grew in her.

****

Calder lurked outside the window of the mercantile until the storekeeper went into the back room and the store was empty. Then he slipped inside, quickly filled a tow sack and was out the door before footsteps signaled the man’s return. Gabe stood patiently at the hitching rail, and he loaded the food into his saddle packs and rode slowly out of town. Like anyone who’d just bought a tote of supplies. No one paid him the least mind. Once he reached the outskirts of town without incident, he relaxed.

No true outlaw stole from a shopkeeper, but this was a special case. Stealing from these foreigners was not quite as exciting as robbing a train. There was really no challenge to it. They hired folks who didn’t care that much about what wasn’t theirs in the first place. Still, his stomach remained clenched and his heart raced until he was several miles away from Victoria City. Working a regular job could never be quite as thrilling as making a getaway.

Yeah, big outlaw. Stealing food and getting away with it.

He took his time approaching the Johnson cabin, keeping his eyes peeled for anything unusual. Seeing nothing, he helloed the house, and found both women sitting in the shade of the porch roof, children gathered at their feet.

“We heard you coming,” Rachel said, sounding happier than she had in a while. The two girls, one carrying the baby, jumped up and raced to meet him when he dismounted. They hung on his legs while he removed the saddle packs from Gabe’s back.

Laughing at their antics, he turned to see Wilda standing in the door. His breath actually hung in his throat, like a young man who caught sight of a pretty woman for the first time. Wearing a simple calico dress short enough to reveal her ankles, she looked like a schoolteacher instead of an English lady. Her long red hair, brushed and tied away from her face with a ribbon, tumbled down her back. He ached to plunge his hands into the masses of curls.

When they were all inside the cabin, merriment lit her eyes as the kids scrambled onto chairs to watch him deposit the heavy bags on the table.

“Children. Mary, Elizabeth, John, behave yourselves,” Rachel said. “Mind your manners. Let Mister Raines breathe.”

“What’d you bring us?” “Did you bring candy?” “Let us see.” No amount of scolding would contain their excitement, all bouncing about like a litter of pups.

“Mary Louise, Elizabeth Ann, John Mark,” Rachel repeated in a sterner tone, but it was no use.

His arrival, loaded down with goodies, was simply too much for them to handle.

“Tell you what,” Calder said, plucking up John Mark and resting him on one hip. “I think I found something you might like. I’ve got it right here.”

Making silly faces at the child, he dug around in his shirt pocket, brought out three sticks of candy and passed them around. “Now, you’all go sit on the porch while I unload the rest of this. How’ll that be?”

He set the boy down and all three did as he bade, squealing and laughing all the way out the door.

“And don’t you run with that candy stick in your mouth, you hear?” Rachel called.

Wilda and Rachel both laughed, the sound like sweet music in the warm afternoon air. Calder wondered if there was a better place to be than with happy women and children. He didn’t let the feeling linger too long, though. Some things were not possible.

Wilda helped him unpack while Rachel stored things in the cupboard, exclaiming over the variety of goods. He reached for a can of milk at the same time as Wilda, his hand closing over hers. He held it, glanced into her eyes, awash with tears. She didn’t pull away, and her expression of sorrow made him want to cry.

Rachel settled the children down for a nap after everyone ate a late dinner of hot biscuits slathered in honey and drank a concoction of sweetened coffee and canned milk.

“This evening I’ll fix them a good supper,” she explained, buttering another biscuit for John Mark, “but I’m going to be really careful and ration the food so it’ll last.” Hazel eyes thoughtful, she tilted her head toward Calder. “Though I’m grateful, I can’t have you stealing, not even to feed me and my young’uns. There must be a better way. If only I could get them back to my folks in Saint Louis, things would be better.”

Wilda licked honey from her fingers. “Can’t your parents help with train tickets?”

“I wrote and asked for money to go home on, though I so hated to. Papa works hard and they don’t have much. I haven’t heard anything and it’s been a while. I sure do hope nothing’s wrong. Maybe they didn’t get my letter yet. The mail is so slow.”

Though she experienced sympathy for Rachel’s predicament, Wilda felt a certain contentment, when, after the kids were put down, the adults went to sit on the porch in the shade.

Rachel relaxed in the rocker, its rhythmic creak blending with the songs of trilling birds. Calder sat beside Wilda on a hand-hewn bench against the front wall. The sensual heat from his body tantalized her senses. Far off in the distance, heat lightning flickered in eerie silence.

“Lord, it’s hot,” Rachel said. “Wish it’d rain and cool things off a spell.”

Calder’s hand moved into Wilda’s lap to cover hers and she allowed it to remain there. Took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Pretended he was a suitor come to call. How she wished things were different. If he weren’t an outlaw, if she weren’t betrothed, if the situation weren’t so tenuous. If their cultures weren’t so diverse. If, if, if. Too many ifs. Far too many.

Behind them, Rachel rose. “I think I’ll go put some beans on to cook.” She hesitated in the doorway, then said, “Thank you, Calder. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you for what you’ve done.”

His hand clasped tightly over Wilda’s and he drew a quick breath. “Thanks is more than aplenty. Don’t worry about anything. We’re going to work things out. You’ll see.”

After Rachel went inside, he pulled Wilda’s hand to his lips, sending delicious shivers through her. But she had to know one thing, absolutely had to. “Are they yours? The children?”

He paused, then chuckled, let go her hand, stood up and fumbled with his hat. “No, of course not. Their father’s dead, and he was a friend, that’s all. I’ll be going now. Don’t worry, I’ll check on you from time to time, see how you’re getting on.”

She rose, touched his arm. “Calder.”

He stiffened, but didn’t move away. Said nothing.

“I want to thank you, too,” she paused, grinned, “for kidnapping me. Without your help I don’t know what I would’ve done.”

His hands went to her shoulders, surprising her when he pulled her close, almost as if he were angry and would shake her. For an instant he didn’t move, just held on like he could not let go, no matter what.

She did the same, cherishing the moment. Memorizing it.

Head tilted to look down, his warm breath feathered over her cheek. Chills trickled down her spine, spread to fill her with bright tingles, as if she had eaten something incredibly delicious. On tiptoe, she reached toward the ardent promise of his moist lips, tasted them, closed her eyes and swayed, immersed in the wonder.