The Outlaw Bride Page 9

  Reluctantly, Will had agreed to check out the loan payoff at the Sharpsburg bank, leaving Callahan in the care of the newly deputized hotel manager. He’d seen Ellie walking past the jail, and through the bars on the window, he’d convinced her to fetch Josie. But that was hours ago. Callahan caught the bars and shook them angrily. “Josie!”

  Callahan’s thoughts kept going back to Jerome. There was something not quite right about the man. He’d been dressed like a banker, but he didn’t seem comfortable with his mission. Callahan had been convinced something was wrong when Jerome left on a big dun-colored horse. The scene kept going around and around in his mind. Where had he seen a horse like that before?

  Where? He started back across the cell, then stopped mid-stride. Damn! As clearly as if he’d been thrust back in time, he remembered. When he and Ben had been ambushed, he’d ridden away from the thieves, trying to divert them so that Ben could escape. Then pain. His horse had stumbled and he’d been thrown. Just before he passed out, he’d seen the horse, the dun-colored horse. He hadn’t gotten a good look at the rider, only the brand on the horse’s haunch—white, a shape like a crescent moon.

  Now he’d seen that mark again. Perryman’s lackey was riding the same horse as the man who’d shot him, or a horse with the same brand. Where was Josie? She had to get him out of this jail.

  He heard the sound of a horse—no, horses. Someone was coming. The outside door opened.

  He waited. He knew who it was without having to see her. He recognized Josie’s scent—the same scent as on her pillow.

  “Callahan?” she whispered. “Just hold on.”

  Callahan heard her fumbling with the lock. She swore again, talking to herself as she worked at the door. “You can do this, Josie. You still remember how. All you need is a hairpin,” she muttered. A second later Callahan heard the rattle of the lock as it snapped.

  The door swung open and Josie ran to the bunk. “Callahan, what’s wrong?”

  He grabbed her, jerking her forward so that she fell across him. He intended to twist away and slip out the door. As much as he hated to do it, it was time to find his own answers. But there was one answer he needed first—from Josie.

  He kissed her. She struggled briefly, but was no match for a determined man. It was a rough kiss, built of Callahan’s frustration and the knowledge that he wanted this woman, wanted her badly, wanted her to the point of risking capture by delaying his jailbreak for a kiss. It was easy to tell himself that he was only interested because he needed her help—until he touched her. Then every lie went out of his head. He softened his kiss until he felt her tentative response.

  That did it. He was lost. She hesitantly allowed his tongue inside her mouth. They kissed, over and over, twisting, canting their heads, hands pulling against collars, buttons, shoulders. Her mouth was hot, her breathing sporadic, her purring soft as she pushed herself against him.

  He pulled back. “Damn! I didn’t intend to do this. You drive me crazy, woman.”

  She stared up at him, her lips swollen with passion and her eyes filled with confusion.

  Callahan drew in a deep breath, trying to focus on his escape plan. “Something happened today, Josie. I think I know one of the men involved in the holdup, but I have to get out of here to prove it, and you have to help me.”

  “You can’t go,” Josie whispered, dragging her shattered senses together. What was she doing? She reminded herself that she was here as an attorney, not some wanton woman whose body was nestled seductively against a man’s. She jerked herself free and sat down on the bunk. “Until I reach Judge McSparren, there’s no way you can be released.”

  “Josie, I can’t wait. I have to get out of here.”

  “No. And if you sent Ellie to get me so that I could break you out of jail, forget it. Callahan, I’m sworn to uphold the law. You’re a prisoner who happens to be my client. If you think kissing me senseless is going to persuade me to commit a crime, you’re wrong.”

  “I understand your dilemma. But I won’t lose Ben. Help me, Josie.”

  “You have to trust me, Callahan. I promise, I’ll get you out another way.”

  Her respect for the law and her conviction that he would be exonerated was not only idealistic and misguided, it was downright foolish. He’d been on the wrong side of the law since before the end of the war. The law didn’t protect men like him, even when its representative was Miss Josie Miller.

  She was still breathing hard, and she knew as well as he did that she couldn’t stop him if he really wanted to get past her.

  Josie turned to look at Callahan. She couldn’t see him clearly, for there was no light, but in her mind she could picture his face, hard and chiseled. His eyes were piercing in the darkness and his breathing harsh in the silence. She could still feel the touch of his hands on her face, his lips on her mouth, and she wanted nothing more than to turn around and recapture the moment they’d just shared.

  “I’m leaving, Josie,” he said, breaking the silence. “Before I go, I want you to know that I’m a man who wants you. But I know that this would be wrong—for me as your client and for you as my attorney. So you can scream for help or you can let me go and I’ll never bother you again. Either way, I’m escaping.”

  Josie blinked, stared at him for a long minute, then stood up and backed away, still dazed by the tingling that made her lips feel as if they were connected to her kneecaps. Callahan had kissed her, yes. And she’d let him, welcomed it, and returned his kiss. He wanted her to betray her oath. She touched her mouth with the back of her hand.

  “What did you say?”

  “I said I’m leaving, Josie. I owe you my life, and I didn’t want to go without setting the record straight. What I’m doing isn’t fair to you. But I had to make a choice between you and Ben. You have a family, people who care, who will straighten this out and protect you. Ben doesn’t. I’ll lock you in this cell and you can tell them I overpowered you.”

  “Callahan,” she sputtered, “if you break out of jail, you’ll seriously compromise our case.”

  “I don’t have a choice,” he said moving toward her. “What happens to me isn’t important anymore. I have to find out the truth, but I can’t do it behind bars.”

  For Josie, searching for the truth was a powerful persuader. Callahan’s life wasn’t like Ellie’s stolen watch. So far, she hadn’t found any legal precedent on which she could argue for release. And sleight of hand wouldn’t work here.

  “Ben’s life is at stake, Josie,” he went on. “The Indian who brought me to you claims that a missionary train picked up Ben. If that’s not true, I might be too late to save him. But I still need to prove he’s innocent so that when Will catches up with that train, Ben won’t be branded a thief. To do that, I’ve got to get to Sharpsburg. I had a visitor today, a messenger from Perryman, the banker. The note on our ranch has been paid in full.”

  That caught Josie’s attention. “But … by who? Ben?”

  “That’s what I have to find out. I want to see those papers.”

  “And there’s something else. I think Perryman’s messenger’s horse was wearing the same brand as the one that was being ridden by whoever shot me.” He took a step toward her.

  “You’re not leaving,” she warned, reaching behind her for the cell door. “As your attorney, I won’t let you go.”

  All she had to do was slide out and lock it behind her. But in the time it took her to decide, Callahan reached out and caught her arm.

  “I’m dismissing you as my attorney, Josie. You’re fired.”

  “You wouldn’t dare!”

  He jerked her against him, gave her one last kiss, then, while he had her off-balance, turned around and slipped through the door, closing it behind him and snapping the lock fast.

  “Don’t do this, Callahan,” she said.

  “I’m truly sorry, darlin’. You saved my life and I’m grateful. Hell, I’m more than grateful. Under other circumstances …” His voice trailed off. There wer
e no other circumstances, and there was nothing he could say. He glanced around, wishing the sheriff had left a gun, but there was nothing.

  “My horse is in front, Callahan. Take him.”

  She heard the door open and close. Then there was nothing but silence. It was done. She’d picked the lock and let him break out without stopping him. Now she was an outlaw, just like him.

  A few minutes passed and she went to work on the lock again. She heard footsteps and scurried to the cot to cover herself with Callahan’s blanket.

  “Josie, where are you?”

  It was Ellie. “I’m here,” Josie said, and flipped the blanket off.

  “How’d Callahan get out of jail?”

  “He broke out.”

  Ellie laughed. “Somehow I don’t think your mama and daddy are going to believe that, Josie. I don’t even believe it.”

  “Believe it,” she said and went back to working on the lock. “Get me some light. I’m trying to get this lock open.” She jabbed her hairpin into her thumb, dropped it, and swore.

  Ellie fumbled along the wall until she found the lamp hanging by the front door. “Where’s the key?”

  “I didn’t see it when I came in so I … uh … It’s too complicated to explain, Ellie. Just give me one of your hairpins.”

  “You’re picking the lock?”

  “I’m trying.”

  By the time Josie got the door open, her hair was hanging loose over her shoulders and she was biting her lip and muttering in frustration. “I have to go after him. If he falls off that horse and rips open the stitches, he could bleed to death. I need a wagon.”

  “Callahan isn’t a saloon girl you can save. You could get hurt.”

  “Callahan may be desperate, but he won’t hurt me. You go on home, Ellie. I can take care of this.”

  “You stay put,” Ellie said in a voice that realized argument would be fruitless. “I’ll get the wagon.”

  Josie turned back into the jail, gathered up the blankets and a jacket that was hanging on a nail. Ellie’s arrest had planted the bar girl on a new path, a path that she was following with confidence and gumption. Time passed and Josie began to fidget. She was about to light out on her own when Ellie slipped around the edge of the building.

  “Let’s go.”

  “What took you so long?” Josie grumbled as she put her blankets inside.

  “I was arranging a little misdirection. Get in the wagon.”

  “You don’t have to come,” Josie said. “No point in you getting in trouble, too.”

  “Too late,” Ellie said. “In a little while everyone is going to think that someone was hurt over toward Cheyenne and that you’re heading up there. I’m going along to help.”

  Ellie’s cool head was a pleasant surprise. “Well, if everyone believes there is an emergency, then I guess we’d better hurry.”

  Josie figured Callahan had at least a half hour’s head start, and they would be moving at a slower pace in a wagon. She took the reins and gave them a flick. At the edge of town, Josie drove behind the buildings and doubled back, heading south.

  “By the way, where are we really going?” Ellie asked.

  “To Sharpsburg.”

  “But isn’t that where Will is? Doesn’t that seem a little chancy?”

  “It’s downright idiotic, but that’s where Callahan is heading.”

  “Well, let’s get moving.” It would be morning when they got there, and riding into town would undoubtedly catch the sheriff’s attention. That is, if they didn’t meet him on the road along the way.

  With the moonlight turning the plains into a silver carpet, they would never be able to conceal their presence. Luckily for Josie and Ellie, neither could Callahan. When they caught up with him, the horse was walking slowly down the road, with Callahan sitting so upright that he looked as if he were mounted on a pole. It was obvious that sheer willpower was keeping him that way. Thank heavens he’d been riding Solomon, who never traveled in a hurry. Josie pulled even, reached out, and took the horse’s reins. “Whoa!”

  Callahan started. “What are you doing here?”

  Josie ignored his question. “Help me get him into the wagon, Ellie.”

  Together they pushed, shoving the protesting man into the back. “If we’re arrested,” Ellie said, “I’m going to swear I was kidnapped and didn’t know what you were doing.”

  Josie made a pillow with the jacket and covered Callahan with the blankets. “I told you, you weren’t strong enough to ride.”

  “The last time I knew, riding was exactly what I was doing. It’s not my fault that nag is a hundred years old.”

  “Why do you think his name is Solomon? He’s a lot wiser than you.”

  “I’m sorry, Josie. If you’re determined to help me get there, stop wasting time and let’s go. Here’s what you’ll—”

  “No, this is what you’ll do,” Josie said, tying Solomon to the back of the wagon and climbing up to the wagon seat. “You’ll shut up and rest. I’ll get you to Sharpsburg. Then we’ll decide what we’re going to do.”

  Ellie, who’d been quiet up to then, turned to Josie. “And how do you plan to explain breaking a prisoner out of jail?”

  “She didn’t break me out.” Callahan groaned as he stretched out in the back.

  Josie ignored him. “I don’t know. I’ll figure that out when I need to.”

  Ellie sat for a moment. “Okay. Give me those reins and you get back there and minister to your client—or patient—or whatever he is. I’ll drive.”

  Maybe Ellie was right. Josie climbed in back and ran her fingers inside his shirt. “At least you haven’t torn these stitches.” She unbuttoned Callahan’s Levi’s.

  He shifted his position. “Better watch where you put your fingers, darlin’.”

  “Stop that and be still,” she retorted. “I have to make sure you’re not bleeding.”

  “I’m not bleeding, Josie,” Callahan said. “Besides you’re my attorney now, not my doctor.”

  “No, I’m not. You fired me. Remember?”

  “Well, until we find the money I’m supposed to have stolen, I’m rehiring you—provided you work on credit.”

  Josie remembered the nest egg she’d made investing her money on the advice of her grandfathers, money that was still drawing interest in the Sinclair Bank. “I’ll take my chances on your credit,” she said.

  “Fine. You’re rehired. At least you are until Will Spencer finds you with me. You think you can defend all of us from jail?”

  “If I have to,” Josie said, satisfied that Callahan hadn’t damaged her medical work.

  “I hope you mean that,” Ellie called out. “I’m trying to make Will notice me, but I’ve had enough of jail.”

  Callahan let her fasten his trousers, then reached up and removed the man’s felt hat she was wearing. He pulled her down beside him, resting her head on his good shoulder. “When we get to Sharpsburg I’m going to have to find a way to get into the bank and look at the loan papers.”

  “And how do you expect to do that, just walk into the bank and ask?”

  “I haven’t worked that out yet,” he admitted. “I may have to find a crooked locksmith, or maybe an out-of-work pickpocket.”

  Ellie groaned.

  Josie looked up into the night sky that was full of stars. She wondered what Dr. Annie would say if she knew that her adopted daughter was lying in the back of a wagon in the arms of a criminal. She could guess what Dan would do.

  “Your hair smells good,” Callahan said, his voice slow and heavy. “I missed your pillow.”

  “Go to sleep, Callahan.” Josie forced herself to remain focused. “I may have helped you escape, but from here on out, we’re doing this by the book.”

  “By the book,” he agreed, his breathing beginning to slow with sleep.

  “And which book is that?” Ellie asked later, when it was obvious that Callahan was sleeping. “And what would it say about an attorney running off with a thief?”

/>   “Not my law book, Ellie, the Bible. Judge not that you be not judged.”

  “Somehow,” Ellie said, “I don’t think Judge McSparren is gonna accept that.”

  9

  The wagon train had circled for the night, something they’d done every evening since leaving the main trail. Now the men were arguing about the shortcut their leader had taken. The scout had been certain he’d seen an Indian on a ridge in the distance, and so he decided they should leave the main trail. But this route would take weeks off their journey, and they’d been assured it was safe. In another two days they were supposed to reach a wilderness trading post, where they could replenish supplies—if they had money to do so.

  Rachel went about her work as she did every night, without joining in the women’s discussion. The others lighted cook fires to prepare the evening meal. Their movements were hushed. Even the oxen seemed quieter.

  Inside Rachel’s wagon the man lay half conscious, half asleep, trying to give form and substance to the vague shapes and sounds swirling through his mind. He still couldn’t remember anything for certain. Hazy impressions of rocks and grass drifted through his dreams. And pain.

  Through the opening in front of the wagon, he could see the western sky, tinged pink and orange, with wisps of purple clouds nestled across the mountain peaks like a thick patchwork quilt. It was a beautiful sunset, peaceful and reassuring. He could hear movement outside the wagon and smell something frying. The woman called Rachel worked hard. He could tell there were others around—cattle, horses, and children. But she’d been left alone.

  Jacob forced himself to sit up, fighting light-headedness and pain. It was time for him to get out of the wagon and face whatever lay beyond, but weakness made him stop and wait. He watched the orange flames deepen into darkness and heard the call of a night bird as it signaled to its mate; he remembered Rachel telling him that God had sent him to her. What had she meant? Who was she?

  A small, thin woman—wiry, rather than delicate—she might have been softer once, but the sun lines on her face and rough callouses on her hands told of her fierce determination to do whatever she had to do to make this journey. Deep, dark brown eyes darted about, seeing him but never directly facing him. Her dress was drab and wrinkled. On her head she wore a black-brimmed man’s hat, the kind a banker or a preacher might wear. It was sweat-stained, but vanity didn’t seem to be a characteristic she spent much time worrying about.