Wilda's Outlaw (21 page)

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Authors: Velda Brotherton

Tags: #Victorian, #Western

BOOK: Wilda's Outlaw
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She nodded, then wished she hadn’t. The room swung to and fro, and she reached out to steady herself.

“I think you ought to lay down and rest. You took a real knock to your noggin. Still got no notion of who done that to you?”

She dare not let her glance roam toward Baron. “No,” she whispered, then let Calder help her to the bed on the floor, what Rachel had called a pallet.

He bent over her as if to say something, but changed his mind.

“Knock on the noggin. Does that mean I got hit in the head?”

He chuckled, trailed fingers along her temple. “Yes, that’s what it means. Now close your eyes and rest.”

She flinched at his touch. Though she remained cautious of him, Calder’s gentle chiding relieved some of the tension of being in the same room with Baron, who appeared to have calmed down considerably. Perhaps he too was only in his element when planning and executing a robbery. The bank robbery seemed far away, yet she could not forget the danger.

Once settled on the pallet, she closed her eyes. Recalled her soft blue bed at Fairhaven and wondered what Rowena and Tyra were doing. She missed them both so much. The possibility that she might never see them again saddened her.

How foolish to have set in motion events that led her to this. A Victorian lady no more, she was soon to become a gun toting member of the Calder Raines Gang. A bank robber. Nothing but thieves, no matter the rationalization.

The two men clattered outside and down the porch steps, and she drifted off into a restless sleep where she imagined Calder slowly unlacing and removing her corset. As she turned naked to enter his embrace, press her throbbing breasts against his bare chest, Baron barged into the room, grabbed her by the throat and began to choke her.

She awoke gasping for breath, as if the Baron of her dreams had actually tried to choke the life out of her. For a moment she lay there gazing through the open door into the sunlit afternoon that smelled of dust and hot earth. Not once since she’d arrived had it rained, and she was lonesome for the feel of cool mist on her face, the aroma of wet soil and drenched grass. Yearned to see Manchester with its gleaming jade fields, thick green copses, massive trees.

From outside came the low rumble of the men’s voices joined in earnest conversation. Friends they were, friends they would no doubt remain. Sadly, she realized that Calder probably wouldn’t believe her, even if she told him of Baron’s wicked subterfuge. Perhaps the evil threat was empty, even worse, perhaps he and Calder had hatched the idea together to get her to help. But she had offered initially, and Calder had said no. It didn’t make sense unless…

Thinking made her head throb and she closed her eyes and lay very still until the ache dulled. Tomorrow or the next day, they would rob the bank in Victoria City. And from that day on she would be an outlaw on the run. What a dreadful set of circumstances her foolishness had wrought.

****

“And the blamed fool just got huffy and rode off,” Baron said to Calder. “You know how Deke is. He never even said he was going, or good-bye or anything.” Baron chewed on a straw and stared at the rail fence of the corral, refused to look at Calder.

“Even so, I can’t figure Deke for doing this to her,” Calder said, scuffing in the dust with a worn boot.

Baron studied him with a flinty gaze, nodded but said nothing more.

“No one knew she was at Rachel’s. I left her there. She couldn’t’ve walked over here.”

Baron was surely sick of hearing this, but Calder wouldn’t leave it alone. Something bad had happened and he needed to know why and who and how. A dreadful possibility occurred to him. “You don’t suppose they harmed Rachel and her brood, do you? I never thought… Maybe I’d better ride on over there and make sure they’re all right.”

Baron stiffened. “I don’t rightly think that’s a good idea. Suppose it was someone who’s been watching her place? And they’re just waiting for you to show up. No, I wouldn’t do that.”

Calder stared at the shack where Wilda slept. He wanted the man who’d done this to her, wanted to make sure Rachel was okay. “No, I’m just going to ride off in that direction. I’ll be careful, look around, see what I can see.”

For a long moment, Baron said nothing, just tongued the straw around. “I don’t think you want to leave her here with me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? You ain’t going to do something to her, are you?”

“Well, no, but she don’t like me much, and I think she might not want to be here alone with me.”

Calder tilted his head and studied his friend. What was going on here? Something strange, off kilter. Before he could think on it further, Baron went on. “Suppose they get you, you don’t come back. Then what am I supposed to do with her?”

“Well, hell, how should I know? I don’t even know what to do with her myself. This crazy idea of her helping us rob that bank. What if something happens and she gets hurt, killed even? What do you think came over her, she wants to be an outlaw? Thinks maybe it’d be a lark?”

“Who knows with women? I say she wants to she can help us. She knows the layout and hell, she wants to do it. Who are we to deny her? I just don’t aim to carry out the robbery without you, not in broad daylight.”

“Well, I’m coming back, so there’s no need to worry about that. I’ll just go in there and tell her I’m going on over to Rachel’s for a bit.”

Baron shrugged. “Whatever you say, but I ain’t fetching and toting for her, and I sure as hell ain’t taking her to the outhouse, so you’d best hurry on back.”

Calder punched his friend’s arm. “Not afraid of a little ole woman, are you? Hell, she cain’t weigh no more than a sack of feed.”

“Afraid, no. Leery, yes. I don’t rightly trust her completely. Can’t figure out why a girl like her wants to be stole and dragged off to a place like this.” He swept an arm around to indicate the mean surroundings. His eyes squinted and he stared toward the shack. “You don’t suppose it’s a trap, do you? What if they sent her to trick you into this and she gets word to them about the bank robbery and they’re waiting for us? Did you ever think of that? Huh?” Baron grew agitated with the idea.

“Hell, no, why would I? She wouldn’t do that. All she wanted was to get away from marrying that remittance man. He’s mean to her, she told me so. Besides, she coulda had them waiting for me at Fairhaven if she’d been in cahoots with them.”

“Unless they want all of us.”

Calder stared past Baron toward the open door. She’d never agree to such a thing. Doubt clouded his mind. He really didn’t know her that well. Suppose—?

Baron interrupted his train of thought. “What does she intend to do?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, she surely didn’t figure to ride the trail with us the rest of her days. I say she’ll be right back in that old stone castle snuggling up to that Englishman, and we’ll be locked up in some pen somewhere. You just got your head set on poking her, cain’t see the truth for that purty smile of hers.”

“No, it’s not possible.” In spite of his denial, Calder wasn’t all too sure. Baron made a crazy kind of sense. It would explain why Wilda approached him with that crazy kidnapping scheme.

If it was true, who beat her and why? When he thought about it, that was easy to figure out. After all, she hadn’t really been hurt, just slammed around a bit. She could be faking the headache and dizzy spells. Her arms were bruised, but that was all. No other marks on her. Well, what part of her he could see. What if she did have second thoughts about betraying him and they gave her a little lesson? How could he have thought a girl like her could fall for his sweet charms? That’d be the day, huh?

“I’m telling you, it is possible,” Baron said, after giving Calder a while to ponder what he’d said. “What’re we gonna do?”

“Let me talk to her,” Calder said, his plan to ride over to Rachel’s forgotten. If what Baron said was true, Rachel was in no danger. The only ones in danger were he and Baron.

“What good that’ll do, I have no idea. She gives you one little look and winds you around her finger like warm taffy candy. Why don’t I talk to her and you stay outside and listen? Maybe I can trip her up. Course, she’s apt to say anything, so we gotta be careful what we believe. Right?”

Gripped once again by Baron’s flint-eyed gaze, Calder could only nod.

On the way up the steps, he said, “You don’t lay a hand on her, you don’t hurt her, you hear? And I’m coming in with you to make sure.”

Baron didn’t reply and Calder grabbed his arm. “You hear?”

“I hear,” the dark man growled. “Dammit, I hear.”

****

Wilda’s stomach growled. She hadn’t eaten since the day before. A kettle stood on the cook stove and she moved carefully, favoring her injured hip, lifted the cover and peered in. A rancid smell drifted from the mess inside and she slammed the lid back down, nearly gagging.

Footsteps at her back startled her and she turned too quickly, leaning against the cold stove to keep from toppling on her face.

“Feeling better?” Baron asked with a sneer.

Calder punched him.

“I’m starved. You can’t mean to eat this, it’s spoiled.”

“There’s some side meat in that sack,” Calder said. Something in his voice alerted her to a change in his demeanor, yet his expression remained friendly.

He fetched the greasy cloth from its hook and peered inside. “It’s a little green, but we can trim it.” He tossed the meat onto the table.

Disgust shriveled her hunger pangs. “This is a wonderful way to live. Eating rotten food or none at all. I should think you’d both be ashamed, grown men going about stealing from people who work for a living and settling for such as this.”

“You asked to come here,” Baron growled, retrieving the side meat. He pulled a hunting knife from the sheath on his belt and began to trim away the mold. “You might fetch some kindling for a fire while I do this.” He pointed a stare at Calder.

She didn’t miss Baron’s raised eyebrows, nor the look that passed quickly between them. Calder glanced at her, then back at Baron, who jerked his head toward the door. Shooting her another glance, Calder headed for the door.

He was leaving her alone with this monster, this beast. Clutching at the stove, she sent a silent plea his way, but he kept right on going.

Baron continued to prepare the meat, flicking her an occasional glance. “You feeling better, are you?”

Throat so dry she could hardly speak, she managed to murmur, “I suppose.” Her knees wobbled and she moved to sit in one of the chairs as far from Baron as possible.

He pinned her with a deadly stare that sent a shiver down her spine. “That’s good, cause we need to get this job done and be off. Think we’ll light out for Dodge City or Abilene when it’s done. No sense setting around waiting for a posse to show up. What’re your plans?”

“My plans?”

“Yeah, your plans. After we pull this off, what’re you going to do?”

“Why, I guess I didn’t think.”

“We’re not gonna let you out of our sight, you know.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Before we pull the job. If I have to tie you up, you ain’t leaving here.”

She cleared her throat, tried to find her voice, but couldn’t. What was he getting at? One good thing, he hadn’t come near her. If he did, she’d scream and tell Calder everything. Let the two of them fight it out. She was tired of being afraid of this man. And if Calder didn’t defend her, then she’d find some way to escape the two of them.

Calder clattered in with a few sticks of wood in his arms. He knelt by the stove, stirred up the ashes from the day before and started a fire. Not once did he look her way. Soon the small cabin heated up, and she went out on the porch and sat on an upturned crate. Despite what the meat looked like, it smelled good cooking. She was only too glad to eat her share when he brought it outside still in the skillet. Baron joined them, grabbing up a few pieces before sitting on one of the porch steps.

The meat was hot and Calder juggled a piece back and forth before handing it to her.

“Sorry about the accommodations. Reckon you’re used to better.”

“Some. But damask tablecloths and silver and china don’t make up for bad manners.”

He glanced at her, a strange expression in his green eyes. “No, I don’t reckon they do. But some folks will tolerate anything to be comfortable…rich.”

“What will you tolerate to be rich? The law always on your heels? Nightmares about hanging at the end of a rope? That is what they do to outlaws out here in your wild west, is it not?”

He handed her another slice of meat. “Not unless they catch ’em, ma’am. Do you reckon they’re gonna catch me?”

Oh, dear Lord, I hope not,
she prayed, but kept her mouth shut. It was not pleasant, the way he called her ma’am like that. So formal, cold. She squeezed her eyes closed to keep from looking into his handsome face, reading what she feared might be there.

Baron grumbled something, rose and stomped back inside. Silence hovered over both of them like a dark cloud. She concentrated on chewing the last bit of meat.

From the shack came a clattering and she glanced in. Baron sat at the table cleaning his pistol. The hostile gaze he shot in her direction sent a fresh wave of alarm through her that clutched at her insides like a great fist.

“You can’t change me, you know,” Calder said with a sharpness she’d never heard in his voice before.

When she didn’t reply, he went on.

“Turn me into one of your English dandies.”

She touched his rigid arm. “I don’t want to change you. I like you just the way you are.”

“So, instead of changing me, you’ll change. Turn into an outlaw? Somehow I can’t see you doing that.”

“Why are you angry with me?”

He still refused to look at her, but stared toward the river, where fish hit the surface gleaming like silver dollars in the sunlight.

“Look at me. Tell me what’s happened to make you so angry.”

Instead of answering her, he rose and went inside. She sat there a long time, listening to the two men talking in low tones. Something bad was going on and it terrified her. She felt abandoned and alone, afraid of what would happen.

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