Wilda's Outlaw (34 page)

“Reckon it was your friends?” Smith asked in a low voice.

“’Fraid it might’ve been, but I sure hope not. Baron was a bad one, but we were in the war together. That’s a bond hard to break. I can’t see him killing a woman, but his temper’s bad. Deke, well, he was easy led, is all. A preacher before he started running with us.”

“Could have been another bunch. This state’s full of outlaws would sooner steal than work for their keep.” Smith glanced at him. “Sorry, boy, but it’s true.”

“I know, and if I could go back and do it over, I’d maybe do different. My family getting killed filled me with a rage that smothered out all my good sense. I wish things could have been different, I truly do, but guess it’s too late now.”

Not long after that, Calumet came stomping into the jailhouse and threw his hat right down in the middle of the floor. He was so mad his face turned purple. For a minute it looked just like he was ready to stomp the thing into a big wad.

“Sheriff, what’s the trouble?” the young deputy asked, keeping his distance.

“Just come in on the wire. Damned Governor done decreed amnesty for all outlaws that ain’t killed no one. He says if they’ll come in and agree to leave the state and never come back, they’ll have a clean slate. Like you could trust the word of a blamed outlaw. I think I’ll just up and join the Texas Rangers. Least they know how to treat owl hoots.”

“Why did he do that?”

“Ah, hell, who knows? I heard some of his advisors have done convinced him it’s a good way to clean up the state. Beats posses riding out all the time, and putting up with outlaws threatening the lives of innocent folks. Can you beat that?”

Calder leaned toward Smith, who stood next to him gripping the bars of their cell.

“Do you think that means they’ll turn us loose?”

“Maybe so. Howsomever, I wouldn’t put any stock in what Calumet will do.”

“Still, it’s the governor.”

“Politicians.” Smith spat through the bars. “Probably gonna shoot everyone in the back as they ride out of Kansas.”

“Shhh, what’s he saying now?”

Calumet’s gruff voice rose to a roar. “I’ll shoot ’em all ’fore I’ll have any part in an amnesty.”

Smith gave him a look, brows raised.

The deputy didn’t say anything, and the grumbling sheriff retrieved his hat and slammed out the door.

****

After they left the jail, Tyra and Wilda rummaged about in the back alley for a while, finally found some discarded scraps of bread behind the bakery and sat against the building to eat.

“My throat’s so dry, I can’t hardly swallow,” Tyra said.

Before Wilda could reply, a gunshot from the street out front was followed by a flurry of shouts and more gunfire.

Wide-eyed, Tyra leaped to her feet. “What was that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe someone is robbing the bank.”

“Then they beat us to it, didn’t they?”

Wilda sent a wry look toward her cousin. “Let’s sneak around and take a look.”

The alley led past a flight of outdoor stairs that ended at a door on the second floor above the mercantile where a sign read Doctor Earl Ledbetter.

Just as Wilda peeked around the corner of the building, a man on horseback rode past. There was another blast of gunfire and he toppled from the saddle. One foot caught in the stirrup. The horse didn’t slow, and the man bounced about like a rag doll. When he came loose, he rolled toward her and slammed up against the boardwalk maybe ten or twelve feet away. His bloody face and wide-open eyes stared right at her.

“Deke. That’s Deke,” she cried. “I think he’s dead.”

A gang of men came running toward the body, and she dodged back out of sight. Not that it mattered, no one was looking at her, nor would they have. All crowded around the body, and she tried to make out some of the disjointed conversation.

“Shot that pretty Amy Kinderson.”

“Her little girl right there.”

“I seen Dub shoot him right between the eyes.”

“This’un was outside holding the horses.”

“Must have ten pound of lead in him. Reckon this’ll teach ’em to come to Hays.”

“Plum tired of this robbing and killing.”

“I hear the governor said…”

Though she strained to hear, she couldn’t make out what the governor had said. She slid down the side of the building, but Tyra continued to take in the sights.

Wilda’s insides churned. That could’ve been Calder. He could be the one lying dead out there. The other one shot between the eyes had to be that dreadful Baron person. She couldn’t help but be relieved that he wouldn’t be around anymore. It didn’t surprise her that he’d shot a woman. Calder sure did like him, though. And he had saved her and Calder earlier when Prescott’s men were chasing them.

Finally she rose and tapped Tyra on the shoulder. “Come on, now’s a good time for us to scoot out of here. I don’t want someone to recognize us and carry the news back to Victoria.” She dragged the reluctant girl through the alley and away from town.

On the way out, they stopped at an abandoned house and drew water out of the yard well. Sitting in the grass, leaned against the well curb, they cupped their hands and sipped the cold, metallic tasting water from a battered bucket.

“What shall we do?” Tyra asked. “I’m for going back to Fairhaven, but I’m afraid you’ll be in too much trouble there. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“First we need to go to Rachel’s. When I was talking to Calder in the jail Smith gave me a pouch. I think it’s the tickets to St. Louis and some coins.” She lifted her hip and dug in a pocket, pulling out the leather pouch. “At least she’ll be happy now.” Tears rolled down her cheeks.

“That’s wonderful. I’m so glad, even though I haven’t met Rachel. You want me to go with you?”

Wilda studied the girl for a long while, then touched her cheek with her fingertips. “Why don’t you ride on back to Fairhaven? Leave me Gabe and Jeb and the pack animal. I could probably use the supplies. I know that’s what you want. Tell Rowena I’m sorry for what happened and that I love her, would you?”

Wilda laid her forehead down on her knees and cried. Tyra patted her back, and said no more. After a while, Wilda angrily wiped her cheeks. “That’s enough of that. I’ve a long way to go today, and it’s time I stopped bawling like a baby. Think I’ll leave Rachel’s and head west toward Colorado. Surely I can find some work. If I chop off my hair, and dress like this, men might take me for a boy and leave me be.”

“I wish things had been different.” Tyra drank another swallow of water, then rose.

Wilda stood, stared back toward Hays for a long moment, thinking of Calder and what might have been. No sense in wishing for what couldn’t come true. He’d made his bed, and he’d have to lie in it. As had she.

They found the hobbled horses with little trouble.

“You going back to Fairhaven, for sure?” she asked after they each mounted up.

“Yes. You take care of yourself and try to let us know where you are, will you?”

“I will. Oh, Tyra, I’m so sorry this turned out to be such a lot of trouble for you and Rowena. Would you tell her I love her and I’m sorry? I’m pretty sure that Lord Prescott will let you both stay. He likes her a lot. Things just didn’t work out between us. I couldn’t put up with the way he wanted to treat me. With him and Rowena, it’s different. I don’t know why. It was like I lit his fuse every time we were in the same room.”

Tyra nodded and reined her horse toward Victoria. “I love you, Wilda. Please be careful.”

Watching Tyra ride away was the hardest thing she had done since the night she left Fairhaven like a hostage. The girl sat a horse like an expert. She was tough and determined. Perhaps her life would be good in this new world. As for her own, Wilda wasn’t so sure.

One last look at Hays City, and she climbed on Gabe, and leading the other two horses, headed for Rachel’s.

“Goodbye, Calder. You’ll never know what you missed not loving me.” Harsh sobs tore at her and she clung to the pommel till she could get control over them. Gabe perked his ears at the sound of her voice and she rubbed his neck. “You take care of me, boy, and I’ll do the same for you.”

The ride back was interminable, but at long last she reached the road that led to Rachel’s place. It would be good to get off this animal and spend a little time visiting and playing with the children before heading out.

When she approached the cabin Rachel stood in the yard, hand shading her eyes against the lowering sun. The puzzled look on her face told Wilda she didn’t recognize her in the garb Smith had bought for her.

“Who is that? How’d you get Calder’s horse?” She took a few steps back toward the house, then stopped. “Why, it’s Wilda, isn’t it? How are you? I’ve wondered what happened to you. You were here and then you were gone. And I haven’t seen Calder in a spell either. What happened?”

Sliding wearily from Gabe’s back, Wilda told Rachel what had happened. Together they walked toward the barn where Rachel helped her unsaddle and unpack the horses.

“Isn’t there something can be done about Calder?” Rachel asked when they started back to the house after watering and feeding the animals.

“I don’t know.” Immediately Wilda regretted the sharp tone, but couldn’t take it back.

“You don’t sound like you care.”

Now she had to go through this again. She would try to do it without losing control. The tears rolled even as she repeated what Calder had said when she and Tyra managed to trick their way into the jailhouse.

“Oh, honey.” Rachel hugged her close. “He didn’t mean that. Don’t you see what he’s doing?”

“All I can see is he doesn’t love me.”

“He does love you, Wilda. Why, I could see that the first time he brought you out here. Don’t you understand? That’s why he said those things. He didn’t want you to get hurt trying to help him. I’ve known him a good long while. He was best friends with my Jim for years. He would never have said that to you unless he was protecting you from harm.”

Wilda sniffed and released herself from Rachel’s arms. “Do you think so?”

“I know so. So, what are we going to do about it?”

“We can’t do anything. Besides, you didn’t hear the rest of my story. You are going home to St. Louis. Here.” She dug into her pocket and came up with the pouch containing the tickets and money. “These are from a friend of Calder’s. Well, my friend too, I guess. Anyway he said he wanted you and the young’uns, as he called them, to go home. Said he couldn’t think of a better way to use his money than that.”

Rachel’s eyes sparkled and she danced around the room. “Who is he? How can I thank him?”

“Um, well, I’m sorry to say he’s the one who tried to help us get Calder out of jail, now he’s in there with him.”

“Well, then, that settles it. We have to get them out.”

Wilda studied the thin woman. Her capacity for hope was admirable. “I don’t see how. There are soldiers everywhere, the cell is padlocked. We wouldn’t get out of town before they’d catch us, just like they did Smith and Calder. Besides, you need to look to your children. They need you. What if we got caught? They might hang us too.”

“Hang a woman? I don’t think so.”

“Well, maybe not, but they’d sure put us away for a long while. No, I won’t let you do this.”

Rachel tapped a finger on her lips and gazed at Wilda. “Sounds like you’re considering doing it.”

“Never you mind what I’m going to do. We’ll hitch Jeb to your wagon and carry you and your valises into town where you can wait for the next train out. That’s what you’re going to do.”

“But Calder. I need to see him before we go. I must thank this Smith fellow, too.” Her eyes lit up. “Wait, that’s exactly what we’ll do.”

“What?” Wilda asked warily.

She listened to Rachel’s plan, first with doubt, then with a growing hope. Maybe it would work. At least it was worth a try, and like she said they sure weren’t apt to harm two women. As for the children, Rachel knew a friend she could leave them with while they carried out her plan. Once Calder and Smith were free, Wilda could ride away with them and Rachel and her family would board the train for St. Louis. It sounded like a perfect plan. How could she possibly have given up so easily? This woman was made of strong stuff, stuff that made Wilda ashamed.

An hour later, bags packed and Wilda dressed in one of Rachel’s worn dresses, they hitched Jeb to the wagon, tied Gabe and Smith’s mount to the back and loaded up all the valises.

“I need to make one stop.” Rachel lifted the children into the wagon and climbed up beside Wilda.

She gave directions and Wilda drove up a rise behind the house to a lone tree, bent permanently by the constant wind. Beneath it, nearly hidden by the tall green grass, was a wooden cross.

One by one, Rachel helped the children down, they all held hands and walked to the grave. Wilda remained on the wagon seat, so as not to intrude on this personal moment. This was the grave of Rachel’s beloved Jim, and she would never see it or their home again. The woman would appreciate saying her goodbye in private.

Off to the southwest a bank of dark clouds built against the azure sky. The wind shifted, carried the smell of rain. It would be welcome, though she hoped it would only be rain, and not one of those dreaded twisters she’d heard were common to the plains.

Rachel gathered the children and herded them back to the wagon, holding her bonnet on with one hand. The wind whipped at her skirts, revealed her scuffed high top button shoes. When she at last got the children aboard and climbed up beside Wilda, only red-rimmed eyes told of her sorrow.

The leather lines were heavy in Wilda’s grip, and she slapped them gently on Jeb’s backside. Unaccustomed to being hitched, the mare turned and gave her an evil look before moving out. Clearly, the mare would do what was wanted, but wasn’t happy about it.

Who would have thought she would one day carry out a plot to free an outlaw from jail? Not to mention riding out across the plains of Kansas. Her mother would be proud. It was a far cry from St. Anne’s and the gardens of Manchester. All the same, considering everything, she felt hopeful. If this worked, she and Calder would be together and they could go away somewhere where no one knew him and begin a life together. She could only pray that Rachel was right about him loving her.